#didnt mean for this to become a lecture and i hope it didnt come off that way

[bluegiragi]

honestly love how we don't have to pay for art held hostage because there's ways to view your patreon without subscribing <333

well, i think it's a little bit eyebrow-raising to ever refer to an artist's pay-walled content as being "held hostage". i share all my art because I'm in a position where I'm comfortable doing so. And I know you meant this as a compliment, but I'd never view myself as any better than artists who keep certain pieces patreon-exclusive, so i hope you don't either anon. it's a tough world out there for artists right now, I'd never begrudge any of them for doing what they can to get by <3

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[gomzdrawfr]

Hi Gomz! Been so inspired by your art, I'm considering picking up digital drawing again haha. What device and app do you use? What would you recommend if I wanna restart drawing? Would be great if you can answer with doodles :D thanks!

Hello Cumi! Thank you very much for this ask, to think I can inspire other people with my doodles means a lot to me <;3 ((def not cryin rn))

In this ask response, I'll include some links that you can check out for the appropriate stuff! I hope you can understand some things by the end of it :D

Disclaimer: im no professional, so most of this is just based on my experience!!

Okie dokie first off:

What device and app do I use?

I draw using a drawing pad, the Deco Mini7 on my laptop, and I use Krita to draw :3

Krita is free to use! You can download it here, or if you can afford it, clip studio paint is definitely a popular choice out there, some people use adobe too!

I will say it may seem complicated at first BUT it is relatively easy to learn once you get the hang of it, there have a full tutorial on their website with videos included if you wanna know more! digital art apps usually works the same way, once you get the fundamentals you can draw on any app tbh

Or if you do want to start using Krita, then you can send me another ask in the future and I'll share you my tips and tricks (which are honestly pretty scuff HAHA))

Other recommendation if you want to draw on phone/tablet/ipad!

2. I know you didnt ask this, but I wanted to share my experience starting out with digital painting/using the drawing pad for the first time

the thing about digital painting is that there's a lot of features here and they serve to make the process easier, but it can be quite overwhelming when you start off! examples are layers

drawing pad also means getting used to not looking at the pad and the screen at the same time + getting used to the pen, I had a hard time with it but the more I use it, the more i got used to it :D

funnily enough, I actually gotten this drawing pad bcuz I started using lecture notes online through pdf and such xD

3. What would you recommend if I want to restart drawing?

Not really sure what you mean about restarting, but Im assuming like finding a new artstyle or trying out different art medium is it? (like from traditional pencil doodle to stylus pen) but if you mean literally restarting then uhhhh XD I guess you gotto start drawing then haha?

I think my motto when it comes to drawing is that no matter what it is, just do it

"its gonna look bad" its okay bcuz at least I drew it, yk? xD the thing with art is the more you draw, the more you're familiar with it, the less intimidating it will become(tho it can still be scary, but hey! baby steps right?)

perhaps what I would recommend is testing out all kinds of artstyle, ask yourself:

what am I going to draw? ex: I wanna do self potraits! I wanna do silly doodles of my favourite characters!

what style do I wanna do? ex: Chibi, non-chibi, landscapes

Sometimes, you won't know those answers to those questions until later on, which is exciting dont you think? one day I said "im gonna draw Ghost in full gears" then the next I decided "actually nah screw that im gonna make Ghost cute" -w-

didchu know my first few digital doodles were done on OneNote? haha yes! and on my lecture notes nonetheless pfttt (this was around october 2022)

When in doubt, always ALWAYS start small and simple. Draw a circle, draw a blob, anything! Make it manageable :D

You can, of course, challenge yourself and go big! the most important key is you're drawing for yourself :3 and you should do something you're happy with!

well, sometimes there are moments where you wont like what you draw or artblock, when it comes to those time Id recommend taking a break xD

Finding your artstyle is an ever growing journey, I would suggest looking through websites like Artstation or Pinterest and collecting artstyle that you like! then learn from it, replicate it, trace it(AS LONG AS YOU DONT CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN AND YOU DO IT FOR PRACTICE PURPOSES!!!) and study it :3

like heck I just found a new artstyle yesterday literally HAHA so you know, enjoy the fun!

4. Other helpful links and video for starting out digital painting:

Marc Brunet, has a ton of tutorials that are useful! my fav one being this one about face drawing and cell shading

Bluebiscuits, very cute artstyle and the videos are always soothing and calming to watch! they did this video about finding your artstyle which I highly recommend! their face drawing tutorial is also really good :3

I also watch tppo occasionally, his video focuses more on how he study other people's artstyle and then implementing it on his own! If you like art studies you can give it a go, like this one!

practice, practice and practice! things like art takes a while to master and get happy with :) like i said, keep trying and dont forget, all of this is for fun!

have a good day! feel free to ask me anytime if you want if you want some clarification <3

[simplysimpingsimp]

hi can i have headcanons of akaza reacting to his male human s/o who tries to stop him from killing slayers all the time. hes really pure and thinks all forms of murder is wrong including demon slaying. and when he doesnt kill someone he gets all gushy and affectionate with him saying that hes proud he didnt kill someone.

Hi hi anon !! Thank you so much for requesting <3!! I can definitely do this for you :D and thank you as well for being the first to ask for an upper moon/demon character !! I like this idea very much :D with Akaza especially (,: I love that boy dearly. Please enjoy and I’m very sorry if it’s not what you expected these are just my thoughts when reading your request and I’ll be honest I’ve never done a hc post so I hope this is okay T^T! I have done my best !

❄️—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—❄️

Akaza x Male!Reader Headcanons

Pronouns: he/him

⚠︎︎Tw: mentions of killing⚠︎︎

-

-

-

-

❄️Soft and Sweet

Akaza being someone who loves to fight to test his skills, it’s been difficult to not kill anyone or at least restrain himself

Y/N, his beloved s/o, would always be the one to stop him and did his best to encourage him to not kill more people — as he would say, “Please don’t make others suffer” during his lecture on why it was bad to kill people

On nights when Akaza would go out, y/n would stalk him occasionally — and it caught him by surprise to just see him sitting by himself, looking stunning in the moonlight

He’d always felt proud when Akaza wasn’t hurting anyone and knew deep in his heart that Akaza was doing his best to resist the urge to fight just to make him happy

He’d go home and wait for Akaza to come back, Akaza often just appearing before him as he would sit outside and wait for his presence

Akaza would come home with a grimace but it would drop at the sight of his adorable happiness

The pink haired demon would scold him as well saying it was dangerous to be waiting outside without him being there

Y/n would drag him inside the home when the smell of human blood wasn’t present anywhere on Akaza

While it would catch Akaza off guard how clingy and gushy he suddenly was, he didn’t mind it at all - in fact he loved the attention

Y/n would ruffle his hair and massage his scalp, telling him of proud and happy he was that he had gone a day without taking a life

Akaza felt it wasn’t too big of a victory but he would tell him that it was a big victory because it meant he didn’t make anyone suffer

Y/n would hold him tightly in a hug, Akaza pressing his body against his while Y/n would cuddle him

His soft hands would always be busy caressing his face and gently outlining the thick dark blue tattoos across his face

It always made Akaza lightly blush at the sensation of Y/n’s soft lips peppering kisses all over his face, never leaving a spot untraced by him

He would kiss him constantly, leaving Akaza a blushing mess and the added gushy comments about how adorable he looked when he was blushing made him feel like he was floating

There was a special attention on his tattoos that made y/n’s heart flutter despite the meaning behind them

Y/n always emphasizing that he was doing his best to become better and that’s what counted

Lots of adoring looking into his yellow toned irises and repeating the words “Upper Moon 3” in his head

Akaza’s gaze seemed truly loving and held no intention of harm

There was always a glimmer of sweetness in them when he would look into e/c eyes that held a pure and innocent look

Both their faces would be red from the closeness

Akaza’s grip on his body was protective and firm as he would delight in the affection that he was receiving

Akaza would gently nuzzle his cheek against Y/n’s neck when he would rest his head on their shoulder.

“I love you best when you’re not covered in blood,” y/n would muse as he would kiss his face all over and peck his lips multiple times

In the approximate 100 years he has lived and since becoming a demon, he had truly felt love because of Y/n

ᴇɴᴅ

❄️—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—❄️

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ! ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ

ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀs/ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/ᴀsᴋs/ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ !! ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ

ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴄs ʏ-ʏ! sᴇᴇ ʏᴀʟʟ sᴏᴏɴ <3

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Depths

Part Eight of Take Your Time

Two Days | Masterlist | Guilt

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand Rating: M (this may go up—if it does, I will give everyone fair warning before there is any explicit content) Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 🧡

Warnings: Cursing; angst; yearning

Summary: There are moments, small, infrequent moments, when a flicker of guilt passes between Oberyn and Ellaria.

The first day underwater is terrifying.

You’re queasy; you can’t keep anything but tea down. It’s not sea sickness, it’s nerves.

The boats are all in order, your team is set for the dive. Everyone is buzzing with excitement as they look over the plans that you’ve set out for them for the day. The first couple of days will be used for observation, planning, and photography. The water is cool; the visibility is better than anticipated. When you surface, you have fewer bubbles of fear, and more bubbles of nerves. A lot of the structures that you can identify as part of the Old Palace been very badly corroded; some have become artificial reefs for marine life, and you already know that you can’t disturb them, lest it harm the ecosystem that’s taken form. There were a few things glinting at the sea floor, a few materials that you believe are copper, but couldn’t get a good enough look at at the time—your tank had been low on oxygen, and the team in the boat had been urging you to surface for the last hour.

You tug your gear off, sucking in a breath of fresh air and raking a hand over your face. Your team is chattering around you, delighted, volleying species spotted, structures noticed. You cast your eyes back toward the water. The artificial reefs, what they were covering...Well, you’ll have to review the pictures, but you’re certain, based on what you’ve seen in drawings, that those were key components to the upper portions of the burial chambers. If you’re right, then there will be no touching them—the Dornish ecological society won’t allow it. “...Boss?” You turn your head back to your team. Someone’s said something to you and you’ve missed it. You push a smile onto your face. “Sorry guys, what’s up?” -- Oberyn and Ellaria see very little of their archaeologist in the week following. It’s not that they don’t try—they certainly do. They drop in on her classes, leave notes with invitations for dinner or drinks the desk in her office. They even take The Red Viper near the area of the dive once. They see her pulling on her gear just before she drops off of the boat and into the water. Oberyn watches her during one of her lectures. Where she’s had an ease, a joy to talking about these topics before, the archaeologist is now distracted and almost rigid in her teaching. He’s seen the papers, he knows that the early findings underwater haven’t been nearly as promising as she’d hoped. It’s beginning to wear on her, the threat of failure. And there are moments, small, infrequent moments, when a flicker of guilt passes between Oberyn and Ellaria. They know what else lays at Blackmont Cove—they know what she’s looking for, and they know that she won’t find it in the depths. But they’ve kept their anonymity for so long—they’ve managed to stay afloat by being careful. Doran and the Sand Snakes went out of their way to destroy so many depictions of them, save for the ones that remain in Blackmont Cove. If they’re found...Well, it’s not worth thinking about what may happen.

They get the notes that they leave for her back—slipped under their doors or pinned to the bulletin boards outside of their offices. They bear responses like Sorry, the dig is too busy, or, Some other time. This happens for weeks. They can’t even catch the archaeologist after her classes—she steams out of there, and they know she’s headed for the dive. Ellaria inspects the latest note that she left for the archaeologist—another invitation to the open-air market. This one just has a hurried scribble that reads Can’t. She glances up as Oberyn comes into the office, sees the slight calculation and subsequent concern in his expression. “You look troubled, my love,” He says. Ellaria holds the note out for him, and he takes it, looking over the response. She sees his brow furrow just a touch. “A disappointment, but not a surprise,” He passes the note back to her. “I suppose,” She concedes, looking down at the note again. Oberyn rests his hands on Ellaria’s hips as he considers her expression. “...What is it?” He presses. She takes in a deep breath, her eyes flitting around the office. “It’s just...Quite rare that we meet someone that understands so much about...The lives that we knew. It was refreshing.” Oberyn hums, urging her on, and Ellaria meets his gaze, “I let myself get my hopes up, and now it feels...Foolish.” Oberyn smooths his thumbs in soft circles along her sides. “It’s not foolish to want someone, or to appreciate their prowess.” “Yes. You spent many hours appreciating her prowess.” Oberyn chuckles, raising his hand and cupping Ellaria’s cheek, “Be serious a moment.” Her mirth drops away as quickly as it arose, and she lowers her eyes to his chest. “Well,” She says, “Whatever happens, I enjoyed our time together.” Oberyn nods, tipping his head up and brushing a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. “Giving up so easily? Now who is being timid?” He teases. “There is a difference between being timid and taking the proper caution. I attended her class this morning—I’ve never seen anyone so tired.”

-- The Dornish Ecological society is staunch in their insistence that you leave the artificial reefs alone, as you knew that they would. You’re on the phone with them when you hear a knock on your office door. You glance up and spot Oberyn there. Something in your gut clenches—something nervous and twisty. You hold your hand up and point to the phone.

Oberyn nods.

And you figure he’ll leave, but instead he steps further inside and shuts the door behind himself. You narrow your eyes a little bit, lowering your eyes back to the files in front of you and refocusing on the conversation.

“Right…” You answer into the phone, “No, I understand that that species has become a vital part of the Harbor—...I understand, I’m not proposing that we—” It hurts you to press on, “I’m no longer proposing that we raise and restore those structures.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Oberyn still in his looking at your shelves; you see him tip his head back toward you, clearly listening in on your conversation. You clear your throat before you go on:

“But I would like to get a better look at a few of the objects along the sea floor in the area. I think they may’ve been uncovered by the most recent tide…Yes, I had a hydrographic survey done. The area I’m proposing to excavate along the floor is minimal in regards to the entire site, but I'd like to retrieve them before the next tide…I could run the survey down to you now...Yes. Thank you,” You hurry to hang up before you bend over your desk, hurriedly gathering your materials. You glance up as you feel Oberyn turn to face you fully.

“Is there something I could help you with? I’m sort of in a hurry.”

“I can see that,” Oberyn nods, “...The structure you won’t be raising, is that—”

“Yes,” Your answer is hurried and clipped. It’s not your ego that tells you that Oberyn has been keeping up with the dig—it’s how well you’ve come to know him, his fascination and love of Dorne’s history. That brings back that twisting feeling, and take in a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of it You stack the folders and files that you need and grab your bag, shifting it onto your shoulder.

“I gotta go,” You skim around the desk, “So—Sorry that you’ve wasted your time coming over here—”

“It wasn’t a waste—”

“Feel free to stay and to—to browse whatever books you like—”

Oheryn catches hold of your hand, stilling you, and you turn to look up at him, brow furrowed. He’s watching you with something that you can’t quite place—it seems too near concern, too close to something warmer, and you don’t want to read too far into that. “Take a moment for yourself,” He urges you, “Not now, but...Slow down, sweet—when you have time.” Maybe he doesn’t mean for the advice to irritate you; maybe it’s not just the urging, maybe it’s the softness of his expression—maybe you feel that the man has no right to look at you softly, with a concern that should be pointed at someone like Ellaria. You shake his grip off and reel away, slipping out of your office and into the hall. It isn’t fair—what does a man like Oberyn Martell know about time?

Tag list: @massivecolorspygiant ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @recklessworry ; @paintballkid711 ; @peoniarose ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @missredherring ; @writeforfandoms ; @grogusmum  ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @donnaa ; @natandtasha ; @quietpainter ; @acrossthestars ; @elen-aranel​ ; @letsfly-andbe-free​ ; @wonderlandgabby​ ; @amneris21​ ; @you-didnt-see-that-cuming​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @ayamenimthiriel​ ; @librariantothejedi​ ; @revolution-starter​ ; @softdindjxrin​ ; @whovianayesha​ ; @youngkenobilove​ ; @emotionalsupportdaydreams​

[ohheyitsokay]

🎉Congratulations lovely! 🎊

The tattooed phrase trope is absolute gold in soulmate AU fics.

Am also a sucker for rivals to lovers ^^

Maybe a fluffy little piece between Poe and the reader with the Reader's phrase being "Well show me what you've got then, flyboy?"

hellooo welcome to the chaos (since you're new here!)

I'll do my best, I hope you enjoy!

warnings: I think this is just fluff, with vague mentions canon typical drama

>>

soulmate requests / follower celebration

<<

There was something about those hanger hallways, something that made it feel like you had to walk fast.

Maybe it was the clean sharp lines, and the regular announcements, and the smooth lines of droids on their merry way.

Maybe it was the urgency of saving the universe from pompous 'rulers' who thought they had any idea what was best.

Or, maybe you just liked to move quickly.

It was in your blood - not because you were born into it, but because you had shed blood, with sweat and tears to get to where you were. And because the universe had half dictated it that way.

"I hardly think it matters. Not that I dont think good pilots help, but I dont save lives," you retorted to the rebel beside you, her steps in pace with yours. "Not like you."

"Become a medic then," Jane rolled her eyes. Your mouth opened, words still forming on your tongue, before your friend stopped dead, hands on her hips. The hallway was forked, little labels indicating youd half pulled her in the wrong direction.

"Hush," she said. "I dont care what excuse you have this time. We both know you don't have a option." Eyebrows raised, and you sighed, dodging another hurried rebel as they almost tripped on a little mouse droid.

On your arm for years now were the words So, you're a pilot?

Long nights you'd spent arguing about fate with your friends - you loved flying, you really did, but-

"It's such a glory job," you always protested.

"Main characters are pilots," she would reply, her sturdy shoulders shrugging. Her agreement didnt make you feel better. If you were lucky, someone else would add, "But you're not like that."

Because you weren't. You were just... you.

"I just want to help people." And no one would argue because that was true, too.

It hadnt come upon awhile, fate, and short lived careers, and how infuriating it was when people held nations lives in their hands because they loved the attention. You lived with it, and kept your mouth shut. because General Organa needed all the help she could get.

And you couldn't deny that you loved it, and it was easier to bear the stress of reality when you didnt think too hard. But -

"Why is this coming up again?" A rhetorical question, delivered with a smirk, and responded to with a childish face.

Jane was pulling you down the opposite hallway, towards the bay, and your stomach twisted, despite the friendly teasing. He was there, you'd told her before, so she knew the reason you'd been antsy, looking for something to blame.

Poe Dameron.

A hotshot pilot, maybe the best in the galaxy. An infuriatingly handsome, ridiculously charismatic, obnoxiously smart, stupidly kind rebel who had nearly blown up your favorite x-wing.

You couldnt decide if he deserved an award or a good solid slap to his cheek. The favored option switched each day, but nothing would come from either - you had never actually talked to him, always too afraid of... what youd be opening yourself up to.

Becaus even from far away you saw him, late at night repairing that dumb x-wing with his bubbly little bb unit, talking to the little thing like he really was sorry. Because you saw him hugging a new recruit, talking to them for what must have been hours after their first mission. Because his smile, the same one that had captured the hearts of almost everyone around, was full of thoughtfulness and earnestness and confidance.

And if you didnt tell yourself that he was selfish, flying for all the wrong reasons, and that you were going to show him? If you didnt protest that your attention was solely in seeking pilot humility?

Then, Maker help you, you were in love with him.

"Shut up," you said sternly, as your friend grinned, and the two of you approached the ship you'd spent all morning checking and rechecking. Her response blew away, drowned under the noise of chatter and intercom announcements and the chaos of the hanger.

A hard hug, a fistful of fabric, and shouts to stay safe, and both her and her teasing disappeared, and your turned the the hunk of metal above you.

"So, you're a pilot?" It was the words, but the voice that made you flinch. You'd heard him before, voice like dark caf in mornings, sweetened at the edges with golden honey.

No way he was talking to you.

"I mean, obviously you're a pilot." Why was he here? Wasn't his ship... oh. Next to yours.

"And a damn good one, I hear," he kept talking. Your words were sticking in your throat, alarm bells screaming to tell him off, to spit out your righteous lecture or tell him to mind his own business or something. You unintentionally ignored him, but he just... kept talking, content to let you work opposite of him.

"I... I've seen you around." For the first time, your gaze snapped into his, wondering at the nervousness of his tone. Regretting it instantly, you turned away. His eyes were like his voice, dark and warm and bad for you. Bad, bad, bad.

"You talk about how we do this for others."

Hand on the top rung of your ladder, you paused, this time looking at him deliberately. He really wanted to have this conversation? And... Maker it felt like you'd hit an asteroid. All those walls, sharp and sturdy like tempered metal, crumbling around you.

He shouldve looked smaller, hanging from his own ladder like he didn't have anywhere to be, but he didnt. Of course he didn't.

"I agree," he said, awkwardness replaced with a resolute phrase. Almost a promise.

And you grinned.

"Well," you held his gaze as he pulled himself up another rung, to be even with you. "Show me what you've got then, flyboy."

And he grinned back.

He disappeared from view for a moment as you pulled yourself into the cockpit, and your mind, which had gone blissfully silent, abruptly began to scream.

Something - something just happened - but it was time to go, and you had a mission, and the coms were switching on, and -

Looking over you saw him, his beautiful eyes as wide as yours felt.

And then you got the all-clear for take-off.

-

He had searched for you the moment you landed. You knew he did.

But you had landed a row away from where he did and hunkered down in the cockpit and tried to breathe and process the mission - a resounding success - and the terrifying thought that you had maybe just found your soulmate. And been one slightly-less-perfect maneuver away from losing him again.

He - he probably got swept away int he rush of celebrating crowds like he always did. Not that you noticed.

The phrase, on your arm, it was... it was common, right? Anyone could say it.

The whole mission you'd shoved it out of your mind, only focused on getting everyone out of there alive, and now that it was over...

You didnt know what to do. The hanger was quiet, void of cheering crowds and pilots alike, and you climbed out, hitting the ground with a thud.

Poe was waiting for you, looking almost shy as he buried his hands in his pockets. Sleeves rolled up, you saw words youd never noticed before... words you'd felt in your mouth mere hours ago.

"How'd I do?" He asked, his smile small, dark eyebrows bending in.

Like before, the chaos of your thoughts stilled, storm waves settling to a gentle tide. You walked towards him, wondering at the feeling.

"Not too bad," you said, trying your hand at a matching smile. It came easy, easier than you were prepared for.

"Yeah?" Was he always so tall?

"Didnt get anyone killed."

"Good point," his voice sounded rough, and... he was close.

"I think," Poe wet his lips, and you could almost feel it, he was so close. "I think my soulmate prefers it that way." He was right.

Hand on that broad chest, flight suit streaked with who knows what, you kissed him.

He kissed you.

Warm and sweet.

And slow.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz @saradika @zinzinina

[mitts2002]

Aight’ Bet

Hi this is my first time posting on here so I hope whoever is reading this enjoys!! This is a noritoshi kamo x reader where the nori and (Y/N) need a little push from their wonderful Gojo sensei to finally confess~

"Dont you think (Y/N) and noritoshi would make the cutest couple!?" Gojo screamed over the phone to Utahime who sighed in response.

"I can't help but disagree Gojo, Noritoshi doesn't seem ready for a relationship plus is the only reason you rang me really to discuss our students non existent love lives?" Utahime retorted knowing that the couple would in fact be adorable yet refusing to accept that Gojo could actually be right about something.

"No Utahime! I bet if them two were able to spend a few hours together the tension would build up so high that one of them would burst and BAM a couple would be born" the blue eyed male replied, the volume of his voice increasing with each word trying to convince her that they were the highschool sweethearts the jujustu world needed.

“How could you even say that!? I get that its cute whenever they glance at each other and shy away with cute little blushing cheeks but i bet it would take more than a few hours for a whole relationship to-” “OH you bet“ Gojo interrupted an obvious smirk on his face knowing Utahime wouldn’t back down from his advances.

“you know what i meant idiot i wasn’t actually trying to make a bet with you especially after what happened last time” the black haired woman scoffed after hearing a chuckle through the phone.

“Aight’ bet! tomorrow ill bring my second years to kyoto for some training and then lets see if something happens between our precious students“ Gojo proposed excitedly as if he were a child in a sweet shop.

“you know what fine! and im only agreeing cause i know nothings gonna happen tomorrow between them i mean noritoshi is too stiff and (Y/N) always backs out last minute” utahime exclaimed not wanting to prove Gojo right. “GREAT! if i win then you will have to be my slave for 2 whole days and if you win ill be your-” “wait i never agreed to that!” “see ya tomorrow then!” Gojo had quickly rushed his farewells before hanging up relieved he avoided Utahime’s lecture.

"Alright class!" Gojo sensei yelled excitingly as he burst through the doors. This overgrown man child always had something new, it could never be a regular class where his students actually learn then were let out for a break. No Gojo Satorou had to be the most extra male on this earth and for the first time ever it worked in his second year student (Y/N)'s favour.

"What it is now?" Maki groaned with an annoyed expression on her face. No one could blame her though after all the blindfolded man put his beloved students through. "Don't be so sour maki! Be like me a sweet little mochi~ Oh and before I forget I wanted to let you all know that we will meeting with our lovely sister school for some training. Isnt that great!?" Gojo sensei had announced clapping his hands and smiling brightly.

'I wonder if training is all this is' (Y/N) thought to herself realising how sus this situation was before speaking out "wait Gojo sensei weren't we meant to learn a super secret technique today? You said that you were gonna show it us yesterday and that nothing could stop you" (Y/N) questioned as Inumaki gave a little "shake" for support.

"Well my dear (Y/N) something VERY important has come up and we must go to kyoto immediately. You have no right to deny and we will be leaving in 30 minutes so go grab whatever you kids need" Gojo sensei had practically sung before skipping out the door. What an odd man everyone collectively thought before getting up to grab whatever they needed.

30 minutes has passed and in that time panda had gathered his and maki's weapons while you and toge stocked up on cough medicine and basic medical equipment. The journey was short since Gojo had practically teleported you all there and all that was left was to approach the students.

A few figures from the distance were slowly coming into view and (Y/N) could vaguely make out that only utahime, miwa, mai, momo and noritoshi had attended this last minute joint training.

Despite the others reaching and gathering around your small group of second years giving their greetings the only thing your eyes could focus on was noritoshi’s thick black hair as it gently swayed in the breeze. Honestly it was as if the man was in a L'Oréal advert or something.

"(Y/N) stop staring we all know you both have this weird thing going on but we're here to train not flirt dumbass" Maki had whispered into your ear but little did she know that you were in fact here to flirt and not train due to a certain bet between two teachers.

“alright kids listen up! me and the wonderful Utahime sensei have set up this last minute training as its always good to train with new people and techniques. Everyone will be working in pairs“ Gojo announced before Utahime continued.

“The teams we decided on today will be Maki and Miwa, Momo and Imumaki, Panda and Mai then (Y/N) and Noritoshi. Eveyones free to do whatever they want in their sparring matches just don’t severely injure each other, me and Gojo will be watching over the matches and determine the winners“ Utahime informed all the students before they scurried off to in different spaced out areas.

"So Noritoshi how are you? Its been a while since we've last seen eachother" (Y/N) said trying not to let her nervousness show.

"I'm alright just studying and training to be honest. Although I recently started to practice cursive and can even write my own name now" he responded with pride and a small nice.

You laughed causing Noritoshi to cock his head to the side in confusion. "Is there something wrong with cursive?" His deep voice asked with clear offense.

"No no it's just that's so freaking cute and you look so happy about it too" (Y/N) teased with more laughter and ruffled his hair

"Oi don't touch my hair do you know how long it takes to do these wrap bang things?"

"Well how would I know I've never done them nori"

"Well one day I could teach you if you'd like" Noritoshi offered looking to the side trying to hide his red cheeks.

"Aww I'd love that I'm awful at doing hair to be honest so learning some new styles would be great but first we gotta get this dumb sparring match over and done with" (Y/N) moaned as she got into position.

_______________________________

An hour had flew by and the students were taking a break from their matches happily chatting away while the teachers spoke in private about their progress. “come on look at the way they look at eachother OH (Y/N) touched his shoulder SHES FLIRTIN-” “GOJO SHUT THE FUCK UP YOUR SO DAMN LOUD” “sorry but loooook they in love” Gojo cried out with fake tears in his cerulean eyes

“Alright lets just observe look theyre going to the vending machine to get some drinks like FRIENDS DO“ Utahime emphasised on the friends worried she might lose and become this awful mans slave for 2 days.

_______________________________

“Nori im gonna go get a drink from the vending machine do you want one?” “Actually ill just come with you if you dont mind” “OH sure thats fine does anyone else want anything!?” (Y/N) yelled to the whole group receiving a choir of get me this please or get me that and the single tuna mayo.

The walk to the vending machine was quiet but a comfortable silence had fallen upon the pair. It was always like this when you were around Noritoshi Kamo. Peaceful. She didnt feel the need to go the extra mile to entertain him or ensure he wasn’t bored in your presence as your playful banter and sarcastic remarks towards one another was enough for the both of you. 

“(Y/N) is it me or have Gojo and Utahime sensei been staring at us more than the others?“ Noritoshi questioned unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. “Um i’m not too sure i havent been really paying attention to anything other than yo-“ Embarrasment washed over (Y/N) as the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Is that so?“ Nori smirked slightly as you swore you could drop dead right here in this moment. “No i just meant that” “Meant what?“ Noritoshi interrupted leaning closer as you fumbled through your words

“OH LOOK the vending machine is right there better get those drinks“ You quickly said and scrambled away before Noritoshi could get any closer.

“SEE Nori was too intimidating and (Y/N) ran off despite clearly wanting him! its never gonna happen today“ Utahime whispered to Gojo benhind the bushes as he shook his head. “Trust me i have faith in my wonderful (Y/N) I AINT RAISED NO BITCH“ He exclaimed in response while Utahime facepalmed.

The two young adults had collected all the drinks they needed and were ready to walk back to the group. ‘come on (Y/N) you’ve liked this man forever now and everyone knows he must like you back ITS NOW OR NEVER HOE’ (Y/N) screamed words of encouragement to herself before grabbing Noritoshi’s sleeve.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” “I have something ive been meaning to tell you Nori, I um like you a lot and i’d like to take you out if you dont mind” (Y/N) had practically yelled at the poor boy because of her stupid nerves and adrenaline.

The silence was broken by an angelic laughter coming from none other than Noritoshi Kamo. “Well i would’ve liked to be the one to take you out but i guess sometimes its alright for traditions and stereotypes to be broken by the younger generation” Nori responded as he walked closer to (Y/N) wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a sweet kiss. The kiss was messy and clearly new to the both but filled with much love and passion that was finally being expressed by the pair.

As their lips eventually pulled away never wanting this to end, heavy breaths filled the air and cheeks flushed but all that was interrupted by a white haired male clapping in the background screaming “YES I WIN” while the other teacher crouched to the ground tears in her eyes.

[liberolove]

Soft Tsukki

A/N: I feel like tsukki wouldn’t be the way that most people portray him as. in my opinion, he’d be a soft boi, just waiting for the right person to come by and show him how to open up. (btw this takes place the 1st year of college)

Before Dating

tsukki would definitely be a smart cookie, scoring some of the highest grades in his classes

and that’s just one of the many things that attracts you to him

you also find it interesting how he always seems to be in his own little world, constantly having headphones on

youve noticed that he likes sitting in the back of the lecture hall, never asking questions

its like he already knows everything

you’d be curious about where he goes after class is over, so one day you lowkey follow him just to see what his routine looks like

but this sneaky motherfucker is not dumb, and you’re not the best at following from a distance

this man would legit turn around and walk up to you, straight up asking you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

his calm demeanor would catch you so off guard that all you can say is “ummm... uhhh.. you see... what had happened was..”

tsukki would scoff and walk away, thinking, “what the hell is wrong with her?”

after that, you’d be deadass scared of this man. but it would also make you so much more attracted to him

you decide to never try that again

~~~~~~~

later on in the semester, you find yourself studying in the library, but you realize youre having trouble with the material

and guess who sits across from you at the next table?

you look up and you see that he’s already staring at you, making you blush like crazy

next thing you know he moves his stuff and sits at your table, and asks, “are you having trouble with our class?”

your mind is racing a million miles an hour that you can only squeak out a barely audible “yeah..”

you’ve now unlocked study partner tsukki

this man has all the patience in the world and answers all of your questions in a way that helps you understand everything easily

you realize its 10pm already and almost everyone has left the library already, except you two

“hey, it’s late. thank you so much for all the help! i hope i didn’t use up too much of your time..”

“no problem. and nah you didn’t. teaching people is the way i study, so you’re helping me too. and uh, if you need any more help, just let me know. here’s my phone number..”

tell me why this smooth fucker would already have his phone number written down on a piece of paper

he’d pull it out like a goddamn business card

you’d hold out your hand to grab it from him and you feel his calloused hands and it makes you  s h i v e r

you just touched him omg

after this first study session, you two study together for the rest of the semester

both yours and tsukki’s grades improve immensely

he starts getting 100%’s and you get 85%’s

yall are doing great

~~~~~~~

finals week comes in so fast and suddenly the feeling of dread makes its way into your mind

you didn’t think about this before but this may be one of the last times you get to be with him.. you won’t have an excuse to be near him anymore

it’s 3 days before your class’s final exam and you try to bring it up. in a shitty fashion, but you do it nonetheless

“hey, tsukishima.. uh so you know how class will be ending soon? i just wanna know.. what’s gonna happen?”

“what do you mean? we’re gonna take the exam and pass. and then we’ll be on to the next semester.”

“ugh, i know that. i meant.. what’s gonna happen with us?”

this man turns around so fast so that you don’t notice the way his cheeks have turned bright red

“we won’t have to study anymore for this? i don’t understand your question.” he says, but he knows exactly what you’re trying to say. he’s only playing dumb to get you to say it out loud. poor tsukki would never say it himself.

“i’m trying to say, uh, will i still see you? tsukishima,.. i really like spending time with you..”

my mans would literally mumble “me too” under his breath because he can’t believe it either

thank god you have sharp ears or else you wouldnt have heard it

“do you really?! can we hang out sometime? something not school related?”

tsukki wouldn’t even be able to speak because he’s so flabbergasted that you basically asked him out

“why aren’t you answering? you’re making me nervous..”

he’d still be tongue tied so all he would do is nod yes, and smile shyly

~~~~~~~

once finals are over, you two start texting each other in an effort to get to know each other on a deeper level

you figure out that this man is your musical soulmate

you both listen to all the same bands and love the same songs

its crazy how compatible you two are

you’re so antsy over seeing him in a different light that you text him first

“so.. when do you wanna go out? and what do you want to do?”

“whatever you want.”

“wanna go grab some frozen yogurt and go feed the ducks some seeds?”

“sure.”

“how’s tomorrow around noon sound?”

“it’s a date.” 

tsukki at this point is internally SCREAMING because he can’t believe he just said that

you, on the other hand, you just stopped responding

you cant believe that its finally happening and that you didnt have to ask if it was a date

however, you weren’t 100% sure because he could have been kidding? oh well, you’ll find out on the day of the “date”

First Date

he’d come over to your place so you could walk together to the frozen yogurt shop

you’d get some vanilla, with mango yogurt and add in some oreos and gummy worms.

tsukki would see you get your order and make some snide remark like, “wow i didn’t know you were so basic”

you’d just roll your eyes and look at him get what he wants, and this man would literally just get vanilla and add chocolate syrup

“well, at least i’m not as basic as you”

he wouldn’t even have a comeback for that

you’re BOTH basic bitches, but that’s just another reason why you two work so well together

you’re about to buy your yogurt when he slips between you and the cashier and PAYS for yours too

he doesn’t even ask you, he’s already paid for you

you thank him and he says “it wasn’t even that much, since you’re so plain”

salty tsukki has come out to play today lol

you two make your way to the park and you take out the bird seed from your bag so you can feed the ducks

you sit down in front of the lake (or pond or whatever) and start feeding the cuties

all tsukki can do is stare at you and how beautiful you look doing something so mundane

you feel his eyes glaring into your soul and all you can do is try your hardest not to look at him

“hey, i never asked, but what’s your major?” he asks

“im a biology major, and you?”

“well that makes sense since you like being around ducks like this.” he chuckles to himself. “i’m a music major.”

“huh, i never would have figured that out.. what with your headphones always plugged in”

“yeah, i hope to become a producer one day.”

“i hope you make it” you smile at him and this makes tsukki’s heart EXPLODE

you stop feeding the ducks and lay down, staring at the clouds

there are always breaks in your conversation, but it isn’t awkward or anything. it’s comfortable, and tsukki appreciates it, although he’ll never admit it. he hates admitting anything

he lays down next to you, and your hand slowly starts to inch towards his, and he’s doing the same.

the moment both your fingertips meet, you feel an electric shock

he apologizes but then continues to interlock your fingers 

“is this okay?” he asks

“mhhm. it feels... nice.”

“good”

tsukki smiles to himself and starts daydreaming about how he’s going to ask to kiss you next

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME -11 |N.Y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, explanatory mention of a pistol!

words :: ~5k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

“  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: @kpop-choco​ @moon-yuta​ @kawaiiayasan​ @btm-taeyong​ @exfolitae​ @lanadreamie​ @cheersskznct​ @hyuckiesgf​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​ @suhweo @minejungwoo​ @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​ @ro2424​ @itlittlefangirl​​ @nctzens-world​​ @bl--ankhaeji​​ @simplybree​​

 networks :: @kafenetwork​ @neowritingsnet​  @nct-writers​

K.M masterlist

K.M 10     next

a/n :: header was made with detailed instructions from lovely @cirrus-lily​ (thank you so much for your patience).

Previous night , taeyong’s office.

The thick, heavy unnatural silence was breached by the phone call. Taeil’s muffled words didn’t reach anyone’s ears but taeyong’s reaction was enough for an estimate!

“what did taeil say?”

Taeyong glanced at yuta’s hopeful yet helpless face. Taeil's order was far from what yuta's eyes sought. The past ten minutes were spent listening to the unsynchronized ticking of the clocks and some random whispering of the younger ones from the living room. And now, several pairs of eyes were asking for the answers.

“you will be stationed in nice, f-for two months.”

Yuta’s face hardened at his words. He gulped and opened his mouth to say something but stopped. The words stuck on his tongue would not be able to convey what he wanted to, he thought.

“with johnny?" Jaehyun uttered.

“no yuta is replacing him" taeyong mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

Yuta snickered , “ as expected.” as much as he didnt want to sound bitter, his senses were not cooperating with him too much.

“this is not about you or johnny. It’s better if you both stay away fr-

“did taeil tell her the truth?” yuta coldly cut him off.

“i don't know about that!"

“then I'll have to do it myself." Yuta stood up, alerting everyone.

“do not stretch this yuta. This can end right here. Your absence woul-

“you got it wrong taeyong!” yuta cackled , “I'm dying to leave this place but don't you think she deserves to know that she's wrong here.”

“please yuta. For last time. trust taeil. this is the last thing I’m asking from you. You’d get the chance to explain. Ju-just not yet.” Yuta scowled at taeyong’s hollow pleading.

He inched forward slamming his palms on the table , “ since when did you start playing with wrong players taeyong? you are supposed to be the smarter one here. Who are you fooling here? you think I don’t know why she’s here or jaemin, jeno, jungwoo, chenle, jisung, mark, they don’t have a hint?” taeyong eyes danced around the room avoiding any contact as yuta continued, “Don't stretch this taeyong. this can end right here. without hurting another one and right before they can get attached. I hope when i come back , you would have sorted this mess out or you won’t have time to regret this time”

Scoffing at taeyong’s hunched figure, he smacked the table once before leaving the room.

Doyoung  followed soon , leaving Jaehyun and Taeyong alone.

Panic engulfed jaehyun’s entire being as he pondered over yuta’s words.

“he’s right. You saw her today. She’s getting worked up over a stupid misunderstanding and you saw the way taeil is acting! This was never the plan. She’s not timid. You cannot possibly make her agree to anything at all. Taeil would never let that happen. Heck! Yuta’s getting weirder these days. Let her go. We can wait unt-

“We. Can’t .wait. I know my limits, Jaehyun and two months are enough..” Taeyong whisper yelled “ I care about her more than you’d ever do so get the fuck out of here. You don't get to tell me what I should be doing.”

Jaehyun leered at the older man, muscles in his jaw twitching at his words  “you have lost it taeyong. if we fail this time, you’d be the one to blame.”

Perfectly ironed shirts were wrinkled as yuta threw them into the case. doyoung was ready to accompany but he refused all the assistance proposed to him. He left nothing. from t-shirts and pants to jumpers, he packed as if he was going for a one way trip to france.

He groaned , jumping on the suitcase, trying to bury the clothes deeper into the case so he could zip it. Once finished,he pushed the cases out of the room and into the hall. locking the door, his running and hurried eyes fell on the opposite room. It was bare of any presence. This was his first time peeking into your room. He was merely looking from afar but the very next second he found himself going through the album resting on the bed covers. a perfect normal photo album was calming enough to subside his inner turmoil.  

yuta scrunched his nose at the small girl who was either frowning or crying in most of the pictures. the family of three looked quite happy. But the girl didn't seem to resemble any of the adults. He almost let out a laugh at your wailing form in every other photo. Just looking at the pictures, anyone with two eyes could tell that you were a spoiled kid. No wonder you were full of attitude and ego, he thought.

closing it, he glanced at the room, simple and plain. Not that his own wasn’t but he couldn’t find anything that had prompted you to lock your door for the whole day. He left the room to lock his own but when he pocketed his keys, they met with something at the end of his pants pocket.

A grunt left his throat at the sight of the screws. He had placed them in his pocket to follow your fuming body, the reason of which he didn’t know back then. He was about to throw them on the bed when the album caught his eyes again. He cursed at himself for being so indecisive. Pacing back and forth , he noticed how composed he had suddenly become. He wasn’t feeling anger, just some traces of irritation for the whole drama that had unfolded.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he took a paper from your desk, scribbled with a trembling hand and left it on the counter.

All while hoping taeil was actually being reasonable , just this once.

12:30 p.m

Looking through the power window, you stared at taeil’s arriving form, hands full with brown food bags. He hit the car door with his one knee prompting you to open the door from inside.

“when I say you are no better than others ,I really mean you are NO better than them!” taeil chortled as he shoved a bag into your lap.

“what did I do this time?” you rolled your eyes as you anticipated another moral lecture from him.

“nothing. you are making an old man to get food for you!”

“and I had suggested the said old man to enter the drive thru!”

“and drive thru is no fun, duh! The vintage the better!”

“just like someone I know! you exclaimed chewing the burger.

“very funny. You know highway stops are all about breathing in fresh air while stretching your arms, yawning so widely that you have to hide your face in your stretched arm to save yourself from the embarrassment. The first step out of the car after hours of driving feels like restoration of something that was denied to you for such a long time. and the second phase of happiness comes at the engine purring, the feeling is like no other, I’m telling you. but someone lost their chance to experience it .”

“you sound poetic taeil but you lack facts. The fresh air you just inhaled is what we consider a polluted one.I’ll prefer to sit inside and miss all that instead of going out and dying. So let go of the  fancy peace thoughts and develop your perceptions according to the changing world. The sound of this vintage engine is a source of headache and not happiness.Now lemme eat. IN PEACE”

“we’ll see whose perception changes” taeil mumbled munching on the fries.

You both ate in silence for 20 minutes. As the drive continued ,the stilled milieu took you back to the uncertainties you were trying so hard to suppress. When taeil had knocked at the door in the morning, which was beyond expectation at first, he gave you the liberty to question his actions but you had passed that opportunity, precisely to show that you weren’t that greedy. But you were! The endless queries were now making you anxious. Why did taeil come with you? what was the reason behind his pleasant behaviour, how could yuta agree to go like that? sure he liked your presence not more than you did but was he the kind to bow down so easily! Or was he designing something under the colour of acceptance. taken together ,you ended up being the ruthless one here. But the leading one was why did yesterday happen! Multiple stolen glances at Taeil were fairly noticeable; you were waiting for him to just start something. And he perhaps was waiting for you to initiate. Dilemma remained unsolved and you arrived in seoul just like you had left it, but visiting your parents had lessened the encumbrances weighing you down.

You were about to retreat after thanking him when he finally spoke up,

“b.n at 6! No exemption. And instead of racking your brain, just ask. it’s simpler than you make it to be y/n.”

Slamming the door shut , you dragged your feet for the apartment, shaking your head at the man.

Of course he knows everything! And maybe could ask him someday to get your own answers.

10 days later

The gun went off with a bang which if it hadn’t been for the ear protectors and the noiseless sheets, would have deafen your ears. Fingers pointed at the target, eyes coloured with impatience, jungwoo didn’t move. After he was done with his dramatic action, the glass shield slid and he entered inside.

“this is target A. this one is B” he asked for a confirmation with his wide eyes which you nodded at.

“right. so!” he walked circling the dry grass to stand between two targets, “so when I say hit at A, you should be firing at A, precisely aiming anywhere in this space.” he explained again, hand moving in front of the said space.

“I hit at the center jungwoo! The fucking center! For the first time in two weeks.”

“yes. You did hit the core but of the wrong target.”

“how does it matter? It's a perfect shoot”

Jungwoo blinked multiple times focusing on your puzzled face. He wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to annoy him or you seriously lacked a few braincells to understand where you were wrong!

“at the wrong target.” he pressed.

“but I still hit-

“Ok. listen to me carefully now. Lets assume A is taeil hyung and B is a killer. If i shout to you that kill B and you mistakenly shoot A instead then you’d end up killing taeil hyung instead of the killer and then you’d be a killer yourself and even if the shot was perfect it was targeted wrongly thats why when i say hit A, hit A and when i say B, hit B. understood now?” dumbfounded, you stared at him bobbing your head a few times to indicate you understood. But you really hadn’t.

“You are not lying right?”

“Dont accuse me of lying!”

“Oh! So you still don-

“hey beautiful!”

Your heads jerked towards the owner of the voice who had just interrupted the bickering.

“johnny” you whispered.

“I meant jungwoo y/n.” jungwoo sticked his tongue out at you as he jumped forward to hug johnny.

“When did you come back?”

“just now. I flew directly to Japan from nice. didn’t he inform you all? And why is nobody at home?”

a small smile graced your face while jungwoo started explaining to him about some business event. You felt like jungwoo won’t shut up anytime soon so you turned around from the scene and made yourself busy with the magazine. As you were counting the rubber bullets to fill the magazine, a pair of arms touched your both shoulders.

“wh-

“how are you y/n.”

“you done talking to your prince.”

Jungwoo groaned approaching you with a stern look.

“you’ll have plenty of time to chatter. Focus on your job instead!”

“ugh. You are so annoying. I’m done for the day.” You announced handing the pistol to him.

“wait! what am I missing here.” Johnny's eyes shifted , not knowing what was going on in his absence.

“yuta hyu-

“I know all that. I’m asking about the bullets!”

“Taeil told me to learn some basics to defend myself and jungwoo is my assigned teacher who don’t seem to appreciate my skills at all”

“liar!” Jungwoo screeched and continued, “she’s poor at shooting, hits anywhere but the point I’m indicating at an-and she never listens to me.”

Snorting dramatically at the end, he glares at you. you welcomed his complaining speech with a toothy grin which seemed to annoy him more. One thing you had learnt in the past two weeks had been that jungwoo was frustrating when he was hungry and during the time he was supposed to teach you, no food was allowed in the basement, making him a hunger monster.. Johnny watched the exchange with an amused smile, just like you were doing a few minutes ago.

“alright. You both need to chill. Jungwoo, she's not a professional so go easy on her and you! you should listen to him. or if you want I can be your tutor instead!”

“don’t hijack here. she's my student and I was chosen because I am the softest and the sweeter one her-

“who is a second away from having a breakdown!”

“no go out. You are not invited anymore. nobody is allowed here from 6 to 7:30 .” Jungwoo announced as he started pushing Johnny out the door.

‘”yaa! Jungwoo. I’m go- don’t push me you rascal. I am going. Bye y/n. I’ll be waiting upstairs.” He shouted and waved in the air which you, for no reason, found yourself returning even if he wasn't going to see it.

As johnny was gone, jungwoo pressed the switch again to close the partition. Coming behind you, his arms embraced you and he placed the gun in your hand as he ducked himself to reach your height with another try to improve the hand-eye coordination. Occupied with each other, you both missed the pair of eyes watching you both  in a very unpleasant manner.  

“how’s your research going?” johnny asked with a mouthful of meatballs.

“it’s meh! The library is under construction so I can't properly look through books and besides minjun is too whiny to let me do anything. I can’t leave that kid alone so we're always hanging out after 1. I’ve some resources saved so I’m fine for now” you replied.

“seems like that minjun guy makes you very happy. Is he the one?” jaehyun took your attention as he pinched his neck. You narrowed your eyes at his unnecessary remark.

“my happy pill is not minjun but you jaehyun dear. I haven’t seen you in like 5 days i guess? So that eliminated all the reasons for my unhappiness. Your absence is my elixir jae. ” You grinned. Jaheyun pointed his chopstick at you but before he could utter anything, taeyong spoke up.

“woah. Don’t you two start now.” he cried.

“he’s the one that starts everything! I just continue his shit for it-

“well I won't initiate if its not for that stinky tongue o-

“Shut up before I lock both of you in a room.”

Hearing several snickers, it seemed like taeyong was the only one getting annoyed, everyone else seemed to be enjoying it.

Just when you were about to pour more juice, everything else finished and left the table. it seemed strange as how fast they were done with their dinner.

“how can you all eat so quickly?” doyoung seemed to be more perplexed as he asked taeyong.

“don’t you both know?” you settled your chopsticks on the plate as taeyong proceeded, “the last two to finish cleans the dishes.”

You instantly scanned the whole dining table and the instant regret of eating like a sloth washed over your face. There were only three left and next second there were only two. Jungwoo shot up from seat with his stuffed mouth, waved and left. Taeyong didn’t waste any time before he also scurried away.

“this was a conspiracy y/n.” doyoung murmured.

“I know right. they knew it. w-we have to wash for 14 people.”

“look at the brighter side, we don’t have to hurry now.”

You shrugged at his words, filling your glass with juice again.

“you should not be drinking juice at nighttime.” He lectured

“then why is it on the table?”

“aish! You are impossible.”

“so are you.”

You continued bickering with doyoung until both of you were finished. Like everyone else, you too had started to find joy while annoying doyoung. The responses from him were always a treat. He was also awfully similar to you. the nit-picking in almost everything, forever sceptical body language and lastly the  identical frown you both wore all the time. but you were not the one that detected the similarities, it was doyoung himself.

It was not just doyoung! With exception of jaehyun, it seemed like everyone was trying to make you a part of their daily lives. The day after the incident, you had hesitated to knock the door, scared of their reactions towards you but the dark cloud of worry had floated away with the warmest hug jungwoo had welcomed you with. You detected no rejection, no unpleasant remarks, instead you were strictly instructed to not to leave the premises without having dinner. And that one day became two and two a routine. You were confused as you were the reason someone dear to them was somewhere he wasn't meant to be at the moment and yet they treated you like you were their own! For first few days you were at edge, the affection not digestible. Feeding your suspicions , you tried to choke something out of mark who was also your designated driver but all he unveiled was his endless jokes and contagious giggles weaved with the various stories. Each day he recited a new one, sowing the seeds of intimacy with his family which, you couldn’t deny, were sprouting into something unprecedented. However vague it was, you liked it. You liked this unsought acceptance, being included like a family, taking you back in the time. But you never had the luxury of an easy life. Was this worth trusting? Were you ready to return their affection by placing them on the pedestal as same as jungkook and yugyeom. But this house wasn no more reeking of any resentment and you were more than fine with that for now.

"Stack the glasses, I'll pick up the plates"

"This is so tiring" you complained while scraping the sauce on the plates.

"You'll get used to it." Doyoung deadpanned.

"Tell me why i agreed to this!"

"You know the rules. And don’t you remember because of you, I washed for 20 people that day! You deserve the suffering woman!”

You chuckled at the memory. A few days ago, You, doyoung and hyuck were the last ones remaining.  And you had won the rock paper scissors. Though the last two were the supposed cleaners, hyuck had ditched the poor boy, leaving him with extra load.

"You carry some heavy dark clouds on your head man. I don't know how you manage to end up with dirty utensils!every fucking single time" Doyoung glared at your remark and you both continued washing and wiping the dishes side by side.

"Where are the spoons?"

"On the table. Wait , I'll be back in 2 minutes!"

Carrying the cutlery you made your way back to the kitchen but chanting of a familiar name froze you in your steps.

"He's acting like a child johnny! Had he called you after you left?" It was taeyong speaking in a hushed manner, but he was not doing a very good job in whispering.

"Nope. He just took names and contacts of all the whistleblowers and that's it. But i can’t understand the need for that taeyong! I had everything in control. What do you wanna achieve with your stupidity!”

"Jaemin, hyuck and jisung are in constant contact  with him but only to receive the codes he's sending. He's just unreachable and I'm not just talking about his cell network johnny. I'm losing him. He- taeil thought it’s for the best. They won’t see each others face for sometime an-

“And everything would be fine? Right? Sounds very legit. Goodluck with daydreaming princess.”

Hearing some shuffling, you trudged for the kitchen, not wanting them to be aware of your eavesdropping.

Stretching the hem of your knee length skirt with your hands, you kicked your feet in the air to get the non existing elasticity to work. chances were not less but anybody could see you so while cursing at chelin for the tight skirt you made your way inside the office. Your bag made contact with your right hip as you walked into the office corridors. You entered the security doors through the pass that was generated online for first day entry.You never wanted to enter this side of the famous company but with minimum options available you had no choice but to associate yourself with this branch, infamous for saving culprits of money laundering, false accusations and what not.

“ms. y/n?” a receptionist shifted your attention to her tall frame. You affirmed with a nod and she extended her hand asking for the documents.

“I’ll place your original documents in our custody room. No need to worry, this is a mere formality as we don’t make interns sign confidentiality papers. As you already know , you can end your internship with a three weeks prior notice and when we receive that application, your document would be handed back. And in case, you become an associate, and that would depend on your performance, you’ll get them at the promotion.”

You followed her steps as she stopped at a desk and gave you the papers back.

“change the folder to a chois file. And sign this receipt. I’ll give you a copy and don’t lose it if you want your degree back.” You blinked drinking each and every word she said. You again nodded like  a lost child and completed the formalities. After a few minutes you were shown to your small desk that was decorated with a pyramid of legal files.

“do I have to work on these” you voiced your fear. Even if it was a stipend based internship, nobody would take up that work load.

“oh no! actually I forgot that you were joining but I’ll get it cleaned in the evening so you can adjust for today right?” before you could respond the sound of her heels faded away in the distance.

“Welcome to the great chois y/n” you mumbled to yourself, picking up a random file to pass the time until further orders.

A week later

To keep your mind off the distasteful look painted all over mr. kwang’s face, you chose to look at his new assistant. The clicking or rather banging of the keys of the computer combined with the occasional scratch of her nails was highly uncomfortable but not more than the man sitting beside her. Your professor didn’t find it amusing that his favourite free fund student was asking for her permitted leave.

“how much have you progressed with the thesis?” he scoffed, respectfully dumping the application  on the table.

“I’ll be working half day. I’m not supposed to accompany them to the hearings so I’ll be back in the university in the late afternoon to research on that.”

He sighed, clearly not satisfied by the answer, “you want to skip lectures for an assistant job!”

“I would be promoted shortly so it’s acceptable sir.” A lie slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“what about getting distinction in thesis?”

“I’ll be surrounded with experts so it’s not a big deal sir.  I’m getting late. I’ll see you in Friday’s lecture.” In sync with his eyeballs, he rolled his chair to face the other way. Picking up the paper you bowed to his back and left the staffroom , a grin of content bedazzling your face.

"He did what?" Johnny tried hard to control his laughter but the scenario you were narrating was too humorous for him to keep his hands stable on the wheel.

"I'm not kidding John. Yugyeom seriously forgot kook  at Busan. But he did go back to get him though but I won't blame gyeom for this error!"

"Oh yeah! Just because jungkook slept in the gym doesn't justify his mistake girl. The driver should count the passengers before taking the wheel. Look at me, i never forget anyone no matter what!"

"Stop blowing your own trumpet. Don't forget you are driving a stolen car!"

Johnny rolled his eyes at the comment , "no, borrowed from mark so I can spend more time with you. stop lawyering and tell me what you did in the break. Apart from flirting with jungwoo of course."  

You shook your head at him as he repeated the same you-flirt-with-jungwoo mantra again but this time decided to follow the lead , "so what if we flirt! He's teaching me to save myself from predators , abductors and he’s very gentle with me. Have you seen his eyes! I want to drown myself in the depth of those brown sea-

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I'm never mentioning that again but please stop. You are awful with words." His laughed again, you joining him soon. " Now seriously tell me how were your holidays"

"Umm nothing new except that everyone was on university funded trips leaving me with minjun , his camera and the plants. We explored botanies and flower shops an-

He had lied. You were not sounding awful but he just hated how quickly his heart beat at someone else's mention from your lips. He consumed each and every word like he could be tested on the said information later on. His eyes were glued to the road and his ears to your voice. He wanted nothing more than to be the only one you’d see. He wanted nothing more than to be subject of your talking but the voice in the back of his mind said fuck it johnny, you are already asking for too much. He hated how he lost control over his senses whenever you were near him but he was slowly getting used to the dilemma. But the trance he was trapped in quickly broke down when you mentioned something. Abruptly stopping the car by the trees, he faced you to confirm.

"You are doing what?"

"I'm interning. Don't look at me like I stole your candy John. I need money." You innocently replied not aware of the reason behind his sudden dumbfounded expression.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on masters!n yuta is supposed to pay for you so why do y-

" I can work for my money johnny." Frustration made its way to your face as you continued,"drop me home johnny!" You weren't sure whether it was for his mention or him questioning your ability to feed yourself but you were offended.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I won't mention that again" a hollow apology and the car sailed again.

Hiding himself in his car seat, Johnny's fingers hovered over various contacts. Taeyong, taeil, Yuta, jaehyun! He wasn't sure what he wanted to do or whose side he wanted to take. He just wanted to be with you and no one else! but he couldnt do that !

Kicking harshly at the brakes, he screamed. The voice reaching no one’s ears but his own.

Was he asking for too much?

i wanted to add more to this chapter but i dont find enough time to write due to some commitments! but i’ll update one more chapter before this beautiful year ends. and all the smut chapters would be uploaded again sans the adult stuff for the minor readers! and there are few more chapters left. masterlist says 12 chapters bcs i’m lazy（￣︶￣）↗　

HAPPY DECEMBER EVERYONE. HAPPY HANUKKAH AND MARRY CHRISTMAS. BE THE SANTA OF YOUR LIFE AND SPREAD HAPPINESS!!

[darling-i-read-it]

Entrée

1x06

Will Graham x reader, eventual Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, some cancer talk, murder talk

Author’s Note: I am having a grand time making Alana more likeable and hating Jack Crawford on main :) the boys y’all. This is shorter in terms of words but it’s the same length because I did more dialouge this time round. Also yes I used two gifs of Will from a scene I didnt’ even rewrite because WOW

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar.

Official Episode Summary : Jack and Alana are contacted by a former colleague, Dr Chilton, who believes he has The Chesapeake Ripper in custody, but then one of his patients commits a murder that matches The Ripper's profile.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif) 

“Where are you going?” you asked as you slid on your shoes. Will was doing the same thing beside you although he typically wouldn’t be up this early for class. He let out a shaking sigh.

“Baltimore State Hospital,” he told you, meeting your eyes through his glasses. You let out a small scoff and leaned on your back foot, looking him harder in the eye.

“They gonna let you out?”

“That is to be seen,” he admitted tiredly. 

“Why are you going? I thought you were going to try and talk to Jack about all of this stuff and how it isn’t good for you,” you said. He opened the door and gestured for you to walk through. You would have to take separate cars. The hospital was far too out of the way for you to drop him off on your way to work. 

“I tried and then he pulled me right back in,” Will said. You walked down to the cars together and you shook your head the whole way.

“You don’t have to do it you know.” 

“I know. I guess he’s right though, people will die and I’ll be stuck in my classroom without helping anyone,” he said. He had too much of a heart for this job. People like Jack were heartless, taking what they pleased to get a good end result. You hated seeing him this way, so people pleasing. “As for why I’m going, Frederick Chilton thinks he has the Chesapeake Ripper in his hospital.” You scoffed.

“Doubt it. Did he kill someone?”

“A nurse yeah. The same way the last ripper victim was found.” 

“I thought the last ripper victim was never found.” He nodded and shrugged.

“The last one they did find.” 

“Good luck. Try and stay in your own shoes.” He kissed you quickly.

“I’ll try.”

You got in your respective cars and drove opposite ways out of the driveway.

-

Much later that day the door opened to Hannibal's office. You had started to put things away because Hannibal didn’t have any more patients. You trained your head to see who it was and around the corner was Jack Crawford, looking visibly shaken. When he saw you he didn’t look happy.

“I often forget you work here,” he said bitterly. You were glad you had become a nuisance to him. A constant reminder that what he was doing to Will was wrong. 

“Yeah well,” you said, putting your rain jacket on. There was a steady sprinkle outside when you had gone out last. “You don’t have an appointment.” He nodded.

“I was just...in the neighborhood,” he said meekly. Jack was clearly sad. Something was wrong, he wasn’t willing to challenge you. Perhaps the murder earlier had been trying. You only hoped Will would come in in one piece. 

Hannibal opened the door. 

“Agent Crawford,” he said, not seeming very surprised. “Does he have an appointment?” Hannibal asked at you. You shook your head.

“No you’re finished officially for the day.” 

“May I take your coat?” Hannibal asked Jack. “You may go for the night Y/N,” Hannibal said as he ushered Jack into the office. You nodded and started to get ready at a steady pace now that you were allowed to go. 

“I’m not staying I-” Jack started and then turned to you before the door shut behind him. “Will looked a bit shaken about the crime scene today. In case he pretends he wasn’t,” Jack said simply. You nodded slowly, startled that he thought to even tell you.

“Thanks.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and you were alone

-

At home that night you waited up for Will to get home. It didn’t take him very long after you got back but Jack was right. He seemed distracted if nothing else.

“Hey,” you called as he came in, looking up from your spot on the couch. He waved meekly and put his jacket down and slid his shoes off. He greeted the dogs and then walked over to you. He sat down on the couch beside you and put his forehead directly on your shoulder. “Good day then,” you teased and he groaned, bringing his head up to look into your eyes. 

“Frustrating.” 

“Did you find your murderer?” you questioned. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“I ran into Jack at the office today. He said when you did your thing at the crime scene you were a bit...startled,” you said, attempting to put it nicely. You never asked about what he did at crime scenes. You had only seen him do it once. 

“It was a particularly odd one,” he admitted. “It was the mind of a killer but not really the killer I wanted. He smacked a nurse around a room, gouged her eyes out,” he told you. You imagined Will doing that. You shook the thought out of your head quickly. 

“I have part of the day off tomorrow. Can I come catch a lecture?” you asked. He nodded,shrugging but glad at the change of conversation.

“Sure. We can drive together.” 

He put his head back on your shoulder and you rubbed his back, fearing trouble ahead. 

-

The next day Will had a small lecture that he did. You hung around afterward between classes and before you had to do anything really. You grabbed him coffee and when you walked back inside his hands were in his head, eyes closed through the cracks of his fingers. You walked over slowly and he startled himself awake. 

“You tired?” you asked, handing him the coffee. He shrugged. “You looked like you were dreaming.” He shook his head and took the coffee happily.

“I’m okay.” Jack and Alana walked in then, one of them happy to see you.

“You awake Graham?” Jack asked and he nodded again.

“I get that a lot but yes I am.” 

“I should go to work Will,” you said and he nodded stiffly. You put an arm on Alanas and she shrugged.

“Call soon,” Alana said and you nodded. 

“I will.” You gave Jack a curt courtesy nod and he gave one back. 

-

That day you were in office, your feet on your desk as Hannibal was in session with somebody. Your phone started to ring and you picked it up after finishing some last numbers for payment.

“Hello,” you said absentmindedly. You hadn’t even looked at the caller ID.

“Hey, you busy?” It was Alana. 

“When I agreed to call soon I didn’t mean the same day,” you joked. She laughed on the other end and it was nice to hear her laugh. She was one of your only friends that wasn’t Will or Hannibal and while you thought she looked at you professionally you looked at her as a friend.

“Well are you busy otherwise? I could use a wind down,” she admitted. 

“What’s up?” 

“I don’t think this guy is the Chesapeake Ripper,” she admitted. 

“Neither does Will.”

“Neither does Jack,” she said. You scoffed

“You mean he still has functioning brain cells?” you questioned. She chuckled and you clicked through some things randomly on your computer, having exited out of work.

“He thinks he’s getting phone calls from Miriam Lass,” she said. 

“Isn’t she the last Chesapeake Ripper victim?”

“A note on ‘victim’,” she said tiredly. You raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps Jack has lost all his marbles.” 

“Maybe.” 

The back door opened which indicated Hannibal was finished with the session. He didn’t have another for about thirty minutes. You clicked on an article from tattlecrime.com, another by the infamous Freddie Lounds.

“You see the new tattlecrime article?” you asked. Hannibal walked into the waiting room. 

“It’s already out?” 

“Huh? I gotta go, I’ll call you later. Take care of yourself Alana.” 

“You too.” You hung up the phone and put it down. Hannibal walked up to the desk and you gave him a sheepish smile. You weren’t technically supposed to be on call while you were working.

“What’s the new article?” he questioned, clearly having heard the end of the conversation.

“Here. Says this guy Gideon is the Chesapeake Ripper,” you said, scoffing. Hannibal looked it over and this real dark look went over his face. You watched him and he quickly reserved it once he noticed you were looking. 

“You don’t think he is?” You shook your head.

“From what I’ve heard about him, no. Plus Will doesn’t think so.” Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

“Is that right?” 

“I don’t think Jack does either. Freddie Lounds huh. Once a hack always a hack,” you murmured, closing the article out. He looked over at you.

“Why doesn’t Jack?”

“Supposedly he’s getting calls from Miriam Lass.” He hummed.

“Who do you think is the Chesapeake Ripper?” You shrugged.

“From what I gathered, someone much more charming and intelligent then this guy.”

Hannibal smiled. 

-

You picked Will up from the observatory because you took the car to work. He climbed into the passenger seat.

“Do you ever think we should just take two cars?” he asked. 

“No, it saves gas money. What do you not like riding in a car with me?” you asked. He shook his head.

“We have two cars.” There was a moment of silence.

“Why am I picking you up from an abandoned observatory?” you asked him finally. He let out a long sigh.

“We tracked the calls Jack has been getting here. He said he’s been getting calls from-”

“Miriam Lass, Alana told me.” He nodded.

“We found her phone. And her arm.” You raised an eyebrow as you drove out onto the main road.

“Pleasing.” He nodded. 

“So we’re guessing the ripper isn’t Gideon.” Will shook his head.

“That my faithful girlfriend is very right.”

“Then who do you think it is?” you questioned, echoing Hannibal’s question to you earlier. He shrugged.

“I don’t know yet.” 

You drove home talking lightly about other things, trying to keep your minds off of a serial killer at large.

1x07

[brelione]

Defender (JJ Maybank X Reader)

Warnings:Canon Rafe,Canon Barry,Violence,short.

Request:Hello, can you do one with JJ when his girlfriend is in some kind of danger and he is very worried about her? A bit angsty and fluffy❤️You’re the best!!!

JJ woke up at two in the afternoon to a call from you.He smiled, wondering what you were calling him for.Sometimes you’d call him to tell him a fun fact or about a really funny joke you had just heard.

The others werent awake yet and he wasnt planning on being awake for a couple more hours, wondering why you would be awake at this time.Half asleep he answered the phone,his smile quickly fading.

 “What?”He asked, wanting to make sure that he had heard you properly. “I have no idea what to do, like they’re still there.”You whispered,glancing outside your bedroom window to see Rafe and Barry standing there, both of them holding pistols as they waited for you to answer the door.

You knew what this was about, that they were probably hoping JJ or the other pogues were there so Barry could have his money back.Your bedroom door was locked, hoping that they wouldnt kick the door down.

 “Alright, just stay put im on my way.”He whispered through the phone, scared that if he talked louder Rafe and Barry would break in faster.You stayed still, hiding under your windowsill as far from your door as you could be.

You couldve called the cops but then you’d have to explain why the two men were here in the first place and what your boyfriend had done which would do more harm than good.You did your best to keep your breathing under control, knowing it wouldnt help to be gasping and sobbing the whole time.

He got on his bike, figuring that it would be faster than John.B’s shitty van, speeding to your house with his heart pounding in his chest, tears pricking at his eyes.If you got killed it would 100% be his fault.He couldnt let it happen,picking up the speed, thorns slashing at his ankles but he couldnt care less.

Barry kicked your door in, shouting for you.Rafe hoped he wouldnt be forced to kill you.You were one of the few pogues he wasnt absolutely disgusted by and he didnt want to make that list any shorter.

 “Come out, come out wherever you are!Cant hide from us forever!”Her shouted,chuckling right after.Rafe was shaking, knowing that Barry probably wouldnt hesitate to shoot you.JJ skidded across the grass of your backyard,jumping off the bike with his hand on his gun,hurrying around the front of the house to see that the door had been forced open, cursing.

He wouldve texted or called you to ask if you were okay but luckily he thought about it, knowing that your phone would ring and give away your location to the two intruders.He tip toed through your house,finding Rafe in your kitchen.JJ was careful as he came up behind the older boy, getting close enough to press the cold barrel of the gun against the back of his head. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”JJ whispered,knowing that he had power over Rafe at this moment.Rafe went to turn, only for JJ to kick him to the floor, foot on the boy’s back and then gun to his head, Rafe’s gun falling from his hand.

 “I-Barry is upstairs-he knows that you took his money.”Rafe managed to squeak out, the bottom of JJ’s shoe pressing further into his spine.JJ leaned down, grabbing Rafe’s gun. “Get the fuck out and dont come back, ever.I will blow your fucking brains out, understand?”JJ asked, stomping down on his spine to prove his point.

Rafe held back a shout, nodding, running out as soon as JJ removed his foot.He now had two guns which meant that now he was more powerful than Barry.Speaking of, he could now hear the sound of all the other doors being forced open.

He carefully made his way up the stairs,Rafe’s gun in his hand now because it seemed more powerful.He saw Barry approaching your door, praying that you had barricaded it.He was shaking slightly, knowing that he had the upper hand since Barry hadnt seen him yet.

He ran at full speed towards the man, slamming him to the ground.It was all kind of blurry,everything happening quick as JJ’s hand pressed into the brunette’s throat, lifting him up before slamming him back down, blood coming from his cheekbone,temple and lip.

He was nearly unconscious when your door flew open to reveal you holding a metal baseball bat as you prepared to bash someones head in. “If you ever come back here I will fucking kill you.”JJ shouted,shaking Barry by the shoulders.Barry was to dazed to even look at the blonde,his head rolling to look at you instead.

 “You got yourself a defender, huh?”he chuckled, coughing blood.You glared down at him,stomping on his hair and making him hiss in pain.Barry got up, stumbling out of your house, the blood not stopping.

JJ let out a sigh of relief, looking up at you.He took the bat from your hands, hugging you tight. “Fucking hell, (Y/N).Im sorry.”He muttered,squeezing you so hard you thought your ribs might break. 

“Its fine,JJ.Im fine, everything is fine.”You whispered,fingers combing through his hair.He was just lucky that he had arrived before Barry got to the right door, silently thanking the universe.

He insisted on taking you back to John.B’s, claiming that you would be safer there not that Rafe and Barry knew where you lived.You held onto him as he drove the bike,head on his back.He had gone slower on the way back, not wanting you to get your ankles slashed by the same thorns.

He had to explain the situation to the rest of the pogues, all of them outraged by the situation.They had lectured him about taking the money, “I knew we shouldnt have taken that money, I told you this would happen!”John.B exclaimed, becoming frustrated. 

Pope and Sarah a lot more concerned about how you were doing mentally and physically after it, Pope asking if you were hurt at all and Sarah apologizing for her brohter doing something so terrible.

You told them that you were perfectly fine, not understanding why they were making such a huge deal of it. “God, I hate my brother.”Sarah groaned,resting her head against her palm.Kie rolled her eyes, looking over at you.

 “Thats what you have to say?Rafe tries to kill (Y/N) and all youre worried about is what it has to do with you?”Kiara sighed, making JJ smile. “Uh oh.”He mumbled into your ear, kissing your cheekbone lightly. 

“Shut up!”Sarah shouted back,John.B smacking his head against his seat. “Guys, seriously?”He asked, looking between the two girls. “Oh, as if you’ve been helpful!What are we gonna do now that they know where she lives?She cant go back there!”Kiara exclaimed, making JJ sit up.

 “I agree there, that’s why I think she should stay with you for a while. I mean think about it, your parents like her best, right?And you guys have that fancy ass kook security so they cant get to her there and you two get to have fun sleepovers.I see this as an absolute win.”JJ agreed, his hand somehow ending up on your knee.

Nobody really protested it, agreeing that it was probably the best option they had. “I’ll just find a way to sneak in at night.”He whispered into your ear.Kiara bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about it.

She would be lying if she said it wasnt a pretty good plan, nodding. “Yeah, okay.”She agreed, pretty sure her parents would be fine with it.They liked you mainly because you were a girl and you were quieter than the others, they couldnt really complain about you much.

The rest of your day was spent pressed against JJ’s chest on the living room couch, kisses being placed on your forehead and neck. “I love you.”He repeated over and over again. “Love you too.”You muttered, his constant touching making you tired. 

“Im sorry that Barry tried to kill you.”He muttered, sounding so serious that it made you laugh. “It’s fine...”You mumbled, still kind of shaken up over the whole situation. “Nope.”He replied, kissing you gently. “But i’ll make it up to you, promise.”He held up his pinkie, twisting it around yours.

@nas-marie-loves-u @28cnn @sexytholland  @yuxsh06   @ifilwtmfc  @cherryobx @poguestarkey @n1ghtsh4d3-67  @poguestyleskye @judayyyw  @sunwardsss @meaganjm @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @jj-fic-recs @homophobicclownmoviestan @jj-iz-bae @natalie-kate-98 @negativity4you @nxsmss @ofmaybankheart @broken-jj @joshy-obx  @curroptbunnie @outerbnx-stiles​ @angelreyesgirl100  @hannahhh-marie @sadnessrehab  @outerbongs​  @copper-boom​  @httpstarkey​ @teenwaywardasgardian @drewswannabegirl​  @simonsbluee   @jiaraendgame  @khiaraaa-in-spacee​  @on-socks-off​  @abbiesthings​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless

[shotokimchi]

Promise (Dad!Kirishima x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Kirishima was your first love and when you had to leave, he fucked up but he is going to win you back!

"Daddy, wake up!" when he opened his eyes, Mizuki was sitting on top of him, squeezing his cheeks. "Daddy come on! You are gonna be late for work!" Kirishima finally managed to open his eyes and looked at his daughter, she was already in her white dress that had daisies on it. He smiled at his daughter and looked at her beautiful crimson eyes. Her hair color was pink just like her mothers, her teeth werent like his but her eyes were just like his. "Im up, sunshine." He smiled and Mizuki gave him a kiss on the cheek "Im waiting for you in the kitchen, daddy." then she left, she was just 7 but she was acting like an adult, she was always so mature but kind and loving at the same time. Kirishima looked at the door that her daughter closed and sighed he quickly took a shower and got dressed. Then he looked at the time and gasped 7.45 am ?! he had 15 minutes then his phone rang and he looked at the contact info "Y/N" his heart started to beat faster. You were his one and only L/N Y/N, his highschool crush... His dream was becoming a hero and having you by his side, now he was a hero and you were always by his side but thats not how he wanted to and he was going to change that.

-

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Everything happened in your second year in U.A, your father was running a business in America and you were staying with your mother in Japan but your father wanted his family next to him. You got in an argument with him, your mother knew how hard you worked , you were a successful student, Mr.Aizawa was hopeful about your future, life was perfect with your loving friends, your high grades but he was the main reason why you worked so hard. His name was Kirishima Eijiro, you had a crush on him since the first year of U.A high. Your sunshine... Everyone knew what was happening between you two and your friends supported you till the end. One day when you were listening to Present Mic's lecture the door of your classroom suddenly opened and Principal Nezu called you, you could feel the confused looks your classmates gave you. You quietly stood up and followed him, Kirishima was worried. When Principal Nezu opened the door of his office you saw your father sitting there with your mother, at first you were so happy to see them "Father! You came back from America?!" He smiled, but then he got serious, Principal told you to sit down and started to tell you that your parents were going to move to America and they wanted you to come with them. You were furious you talked about this before and told them that you wanted to stay at U.A but now Principal Nezu was trying to explain that people need to make hard decisions sometimes. You started to cry... You were going to leave everything behind, what about him? Your sunshine? Then the door opened and Mr.Aizawa appeared, he wasnt pleased by the information of you leaving, he tried to convince your parents but it didnt work. When you heard the bell rang you got up, bowed to Principal Nezu and started to walk towards your classroom then you heard All Might, he was jogging towards you, he gave you a hug and told you to work harder. He knew how determined and strong you were "Young L/N, never give up, we trust you especially Mr.Aizawa." you gave a weak smile and started to walk again, he sighed and tought *You are strong L/N.* when you arrived your classmates immediately walked towards you, you tried to explain that you needed to leave for your fathers job and all of a sudden you broke down... You were crying while Momo was patting your back and Uraraka was hugging you. Thats when Kirishima stepped in the classroom. He saw you and his eyes widened, your red eyes bc of crying, shiny tears... He tought that you got hurt, he ran towards you and kneeled in front of you. Your body acted on its own, you wrapped your arms around his neck and cried. "E-eijiro..." This was the first time that you called him by his first name, his eyes met yours "I dont w-wanna..." you were trying to speak between your loud sobs, everyone got more worried. "Hey... Its okay Y/N, take your time." He smiled and squeezed you. "I dont wanna leave..." He leaned back and looked at your eyes "You dont wanna leave?" he asked, you started to explain everything that happened, when you finished his brows were furrowed, he clenched his teeth, the love of his life were... Leaving? "W-what? You are going to live there?" You nodded and looked at the floor. No one wanted you to leave. After packing your things in your dorm, everyone was gathered in the common room to give you warm hugs, even Bakugou was there. When you hugged everyone, you looked at your sunshine... His eyes were glued to the floor you knew he was trying so hard to not to cry, you walked towards him and took his hands, he didnt wanted to cry while you were leaving "My sunshine..." his eyes widened, you never called him that. Yes, he knew that both of you were crushing on eachother but it was just flirting, shy smiles and gettin protective. Tears started fall from his eyes "How can you look so manly and beautiful while crying?" You smiled and his cheeks were getting warmer. "I promise you, i will work hard for you then im going to come back." He looked at you, you were tearing up too... "Y/N..." his voice was trembling, "Im going to work hard too... Im going to be the strongest so please count on me!" his tears were falling to his shirt, you smiled between your tears and hugged him. Everyone was silent it was like a scene from a sad movie. Kirishima closed his eyes, then he felt something soft on his cheek, when he realized that you pecked his cheek, his eyes started to shine and a small smile appeared on his lips. "Thats better." you said and smiled back. "Keep texting me ok?" he asked and you nodded then you took your suitcase and left the building. Ofc he cried...

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Then everything started to get complicated, you were attending to a prestigious school in America but it wasnt lively like U.A everyone looked so cold and fake. You finished highschool with high grades and the texts you sent to Kirishima started to get shorter and shorter. He understood that you were having a hard time with college and stuff so he respected you but being so far away from you was hard for him. When you felt like you were going to give up you always remembered the promise that you made *Im going to work hard then come back.* that promise always boosted your energy. It was the same for Kirishima, he always tought about the promise he made and worked harder to become a strong hero.

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One day, when you were taking a walk with your mother at a park, you accidentally dropped your phone in the lake and bought a new phone, your contact list was gone but luckily the girls wanted your number by messaging your social media accounts. The texts that you send to Kirishima were pretty short and propably once a month, it was the same for him. When you were talking with Uraraka on the phone she accidentally let something slip from her mouth and that crashed you. "Y/N look, you know having a long distance crush is very difficult and since both of you have goals you cant start a relationship but Kirishima has female friends and they are kinda affecting him..." You were broken, Uraraka panicked bc of the silence and you asked "Who?" she gulped and said "Mina..."  you froze, Uraraka explained that theres nothing going on between them but she had some suspicions about Mina having a crush on him and she told you that Mina loved you but feelings couldnt be controlled. Their relationship was affecting him bc they were close but you were so far away... Your college was in America and your father didnt let you leave, you really needed to see your friends, ask about Mina and Kirishima's relationship, Kiri was your sunshine and you trusted him. After gathering your courage you decided to call Mina...

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Kirishima was sitting on the couch with Kaminari and Bakugou, Mina was in the kitchen and Sero was sitting on the floor. "Come on Mina, we already chose the movie!" Kaminari yelled. Mina came with a bowl of popcorn and looked at the guys. "Umm where am i gonna sit?" she asked, Kirishima was sandwiched between his friends. "Tch, on the floor." Bakugou replied with a cold tone. When you left, Bakugou made a silent promise to himself to support his buddy but Kiri being close with Mina was pissing him off because he knew you were working hard for him, Bakugou didnt told anyone but he was texting you sometimes and you always told him that you were working hard and trying to come back, he felt so mad. While you were working your ass off, Kiri was having fun with Mina and making things complicated for both of them. Bakugou once said "What are you trying to do, shitty hair? Dont you love L/N or somethin' why are you letting Racoon eyes flirt with you? If you want to be a hero keep your promises first." He didnt mean to be harsh but someone needed to warn Kiri. Kirishima sighed and said "Dont be rude bakubro!" and smiled. Mina started to push Kaminari and he sat on the floor then she sat next to Kiri and put her legs on his lap, Bakugou made an unpleased noise. Just then, Mina's phone rang and it was on the floor, Kaminari quickly looked at the contact info and said "It's Y/N!" the blood drained from her face and Kirishima's heart stopped. Mina quickly grabbed the phone and excused herself. Kirishima was frozen on the couch, Bakugou looked at his friend and sighed... Mina quickly closed the door and answered "Hello Y/N?" when you heard her voice your heart started to beat faster, you didnt wanted to accept the fact that she was gettin intimate with him. "Mina, i need to ask you something." Mina gulped normally your voice was always energetic but now it was irritated and cold. "Are you dating with Kirishima?" her heart stopped the next question only made her panic more "Do you like him?" her throat was dry, hands were cold and mind was spinning. Kaminari got up and started bite his nails he looked at Kirishima, his eyes were on the floor, his was avoiding eye contact. Bakugou smirked, he was proud of you but he was mad at the same time how could something like this happen? You guys made a promise and Kiri didnt even bother to tell you that he was flirting with Mina. "Uh... Should i go and check on her?" Sero asked. "Shut up and sit." Bakugou replied then they heard Mina scream and she got louder, they all panicked except Bakugou. On the other hand your voice was trembling with anger "WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME THAT YOU WERE FLIRTING WITH HIM?!" you were yelling at this point "WHILE YOU GUYS WERE GETTING LOVEY DOVEY, I WAS TRICKING MYSELF WITH STUPID ASS FAKE PROMISES THAT WE MADE!" you started to cry... Mina was only gettin louder cuz she didnt had the right to defend herself then she hung up on you. You broke down and started to cry, on the other line Mina started to tear up too. 10 minutes later Mina came out of the room 4 pair of eyes were looking at her with curiousity. She didnt said anything and started the movie then Bakugous phone got a notification and he got up. It was from you, he sighed and started to head towards the kitchen but Kirishima stopped him, Kiri had an anxious look in his eyes but it looked like regret too. "Watch the god damn movie im coming shitty hair." then he left, Kiri was looking at the TV but his mind was a complete mess he was making theories. Bakugou opened his phone and saw your name on it, he sighed and looked at the message that you sent to him.

You: Bakugou, i called Mina, i know i promised you that i was going to be strong and work hard but i cant take it anymore. Mina confirmed the fact that she was having some sort of thing with Kiri and i dont know,i feel so weak. 

Bakugou: Dont feel weak bc of people, never. If you wanna make them regret it, stay strong.Dont forget that. Shitty Hair is the one who broke the promise isnt he? Why do you feel weak, he should be the one who's feeling weak. Stupid y/n what am i gonna do with you huh?

You: Bakugou, thank you. Im gonna get stronger and when i come back, lets eat some spicy food, ok?

A small smile appeared on his face and he sighed.

Bakugou: You better get stronger, its a promise now. Dont chicken out cuz when you say spicy i expect something spicy. 

You looked at your phone and smiled, having someone strong like Bakugou as a friend was such a blessing. Bakugou on the other hand sat on the couch and he had a genuine smile on his face. His friends started to look at him with surprised eyes and he gave them a 'the fuck you want?' look then continued to watch the movie.

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One year later...

You opened your mail box and saw an invitation, you looked at it, it was written 'Midoriya x Uraraka Wedding Invitation' on it, “THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED?!” You screamed and called Uraraka, she said that she really wanted to see you on her wedding with Deku. Everyone missed you so much and since it was an important event your father would porpably let you go. You quickly asked for permission and he said yes. You quickly looked for a dress then found a gorgeous royal blue dress and silver earings with a necklace. Your father quickly booked you a room from a luxurious hotel and you packed your things. Your flight was comfortable, when you came to the airport you saw Momo and Shoto, Momo ran towards you with teary eyes and hugged you, Shoto gave you a warm hug and took your suitcase. Your friends knew about the fight with Mina so they made a plan to keep you away from eachother. You were going to be with Momo, Jiro and Uraraka while she was going to be with Tsuyu and Hagakure for the most of the time. Shoto and Momo dropped you at your hotel and gave you some time to relax. You quickly took a shower and layed on the queen sized bed. The wedding was at 7.00 pm so you set an alarm to 5.00 pm and decided to take a nap. A phone call woke you up, it was from Jiro she asked you if were ready or not and you quickly started to dress up then you got a call from the front desk saying that you have a visitor. It was Momo, when she saw you she let out a gasp "Y/N, you are beautiful!" you smiled and she started to design your hair. Then you helped Momo wih her make up and quickly left the hotel, Shoto was waiting outside. When you got in the car, your stomach started to burn Kirishima was going to be there... After the fight you didnt had a conversation with him and blocked him. Momo sensed your anxiety and held your hand.

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Kirishima didnt had a clue, he didnt know that y/n was coming, so many things happened in a year. He asked Mina if she wanted to be his partner for the rest of his life but he didnt proposed, he tought it was too early and he couldnt get someone out of his mind 'y/n'. Whenever he tought about her, his heart started to beat faster and faster. His mind was a mess, he was trying so hard to move on with Mina but his heart was always telling him the opposite. He wore a tuxedo and put a crimson rose on his suit. Bakugou was gettin ready at the bathroom. Then he saw his bro's phone on the bed, a notification popped up, he quickly grabbed the phone, then he saw it. 'Message from y/n: Baku im on my way with Mo and Sho!" He stopped breathing and threw the phone to the bed. Just then Bakugou came out and when he saw a pale Kiri, he got worried. "The hell Shitty Hair? You saw a murder or somethin?" Kiri gulped and shook his head. "Hahaha, you are funny bro, come on lets go!" he started to make new theories his best friend and y/n were... talking? Were they...? No. Bakugou wouldnt do that to him. Bakugou grabbed his phone and looked at the message, he smiled to himself and left the house with Kiri.

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"Y/N!" Ojiro walked towards you, "Ojiro-san! Oh, its been so long how are you?" you started to chat and he showed you the table that reserved for class A. When you walked towards the table you saw your friends Kaminari, Tokoyami, Hagakure, the others and... Mina. You made eye contact for a second then she averted her eyes. "Y/N, you look amazing!" Hagakure said. You thanked then had a little chit-chat with her and Tsuyu. "Uh, Kaminari? Where is Bakugou?" You asked and some of your friends looked at you. Kaminari knew that you were close with Bakugou in some way bc he accidentally saw some of your texts and he didnt know that Bakugou could be soft. He was relieved that someone was supporting you. "Dont worry, he is on his way!" he said. Then Momo came and took a seat next to you, all of a sudden she took your hands in hers and you looked at her. "Y/N, calm down and slowly stand up okay?Bakugou is here... with Kirishima." Your eyes widened, Momo saw your expression and squeezed your hand. You stood up turned around and your eyes immediately met with crimson ones but luckily it was Bakugou's and you gave a sigh of relief. He smirked and walked towards you, you smiled. "Hey, how are you Bakugou?" he snorted "I should be the one asking you that." oh Bakugou and his attitude. Then your eyes drifted to his left and you stopped breathing, Bakugou quickly saw the change on your face and turned around, Kirishima was standing behind him with wide shiny eyes. You quickly averted your eyes and sat down. Bakugou grabbed Kiri's wrist and they sat down. Your friends were chatting to ease the tension but you were looking at your hands in your lap a waiter came and offered you some wine, when you started to sip it Mina started to tell Tsuyu about her wedding plans and you stopped on your tracks. Bakugou was watching you carefully. "Kiri and i are thinking of something simple, he still thinks its early but we have plans for our future." what... future...? Everyone went silent and Tsuyu nodded at Mina, then she turned at you and asked "By the way Y/N how was America? Are you seeing someone at the moment, you are pretty succesful and beautiful." Your father introduced you to his business partners sons but you always tought about Kirishima. *Ok then lets play dirty Kiri.* you tought and started to talk "Well, America is good but Japan has a special place in my heart, also yeah there are some guys that my father introduced me to and im not so sure yet but there is one..." you trailed of and gave a side glance to Kirishima, he was directly looking at you. Well you lied, you refused all of those guys but you wanted Kirishima to get hurt (emotionally ofc) "Oh my, foreign guys are interesting arent they?" Hagakure giggled and you decided to go with the flow so you nodded and giggled back. Kirishima was squeezing his fists, he hid them under the fancy table and clenched his teeth. He had a big ache in his heart. Then all of a sudden someone touched your shoulder and you turned "Hey, hey, hey Y/N!" your eyes widened "Fatgum!" you stood up and hugged him, he patted your shoulder. "How's your father doing huh? When are you going to move here?" he asked, you smiled and huffed "Well he wants me to work at his hero agency." Fatgum furrowed his brows and opened his mouth "You know Y/N, the crime rate in America is higher than Japan, you have a strong quirk and i really need someone like you in my agency, why dont you work with me?" Kirishima's breath hitched in his throat and quickly looked at you "Oh, well if my father lets me then why not?" Kiri's eyes shined so Fatgum's "He is my old friend dont worry i will convince him!" he laughed and left than you sat down and met with Momo's confused face. She whispered in your ear "Y/N, Kirishima is going to work at his agency..." Your eyes widened then you started to think, you were going to accept his offer and took revenge from Kirishima, he was going to see your face everyday and you were going to do everything you could to make him suffer.  "Its okay Momo, i got this." You winked at her and she gave a worried smile. Then the lights go off and you saw Uraraka and Midoriya, they danced and started to talk with the guests, Uraraka quickly saw the table for Class A and ran towards you, you stood up and hugged her "Y/N, you came!" she was getting emotional so do you, "I cant miss this now, can i?" you both giggled and Midoriya appeared "Welcome back Y/N!" you smiled and said "I'm home..." then everyone at your table looked at you with wide eyes, you just made your decision in 5 minutes, you were going to stay at Japan. "Y-you are staying here?!" Uraraka almost shouted and you nodded. "Well, i saw Fatgum and he made an offer so... Guess im movin here!" Uraraka started to tear up and you hugged her "Hey! No crying, beautiful lady!" she laughed and squeezed you tighter. They continued to talk with other guests and Jiro turned at you "We should celebrate this Y/N!" Tsuyu and Momo nodded. "Hey, what about us?" Kaminari whined. "No boys allowed!" Jiro frowned at him. After the wedding Shoto dropped you at your hotel and you quickly made a phone call, your father answered the phone and you started to tell him about the wedding and Fatgum, when he heard his close friends name he laughed and started to listen carefully, you told him about his offer and he went silent, he told you that he needed to talk with Fatgum and hung up. You sighed and layed on your bed.

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Two years later...

You woke up and took a quicky shower, it has been two years and you started to work at Fatgums' agency, he always supported you and told you to do your best. Magically, he managed to convince your father telling him the rising crime rate at America and how Japan is safer. So many things happened in two years Kirishima and Mina got married, Uraraka was pregnant and you were pretty popular in the agency, everyone was talking about how strong you were but it didnt matter because it has been 5 months... Kirishima and Mina were married for 5 months and it hurted like hell ofc you didnt showed up at their wedding and Uraraka told you that the tension at the wedding was pretty thick but that was none of your business. You quickly got in your car and drove towards the agency, you only talked with Kirishima during the missions and it was obvious that he wanted to talk to you but you always took a step back and ignored him, whenever you called his name bc of paperwork, his eyes shined like a little boys. It was weird, he was married so why was he making things complicated for you?

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Kirishima was getting ready for work but he didnt wanted to go, yesterday was terrible. He was having problems with Mina since the day they got married. Mina was always attacking him with "You dont love me Eijiro!" and "Do you still love her?!" or "If you are confused why did you wanted to marry me?!". But yesterday was terrible. When he came home from work, Mina was sitting at their couch with a plastic thing in her hand, she told Kiri to sit and started to explain that she got... pregnant. Kirishima loved kids but they didnt had a healthy relationship, he was still questioning himself about his feelings and you were working at his agency. He got up and washed his face and Mina started to cry. Ofc they were going to have the child but Kiri was sure now. He never loved Mina, he always wanted a child from you but that was not going to change the fact that the baby in Mina was his and he promised himself to love the baby no matter what. He quickly grabbed his keys and left the apartment. When he arrived at the gate of his agency and parked his car, he saw you. He was trying so hard to melt the ice wall that you created. He quickly jogged towards you "G-good morning!" you looked at him and nodded when you started to walk he followed you and when he opened his mouth to start a conversation his stomach growled loudly. You quickly raised an eyebrow and his face turned red he quickly chuckled and scratched his head you looked at the paper bag in your hand and opened it, he curiously looked at you and you handed him a muffin and a cookie. "F-for me?" he asked, you replied "What do you think?" he smiled and took it "Thank you..."

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You quickly sat at your desk and started to write some stuff then a woman came "Lady Magma, the interns are waiting for you." that was your hero name 'Lady Magma' Your quirk was Lava, if you touch an object you can melt it or if you stare at something and activate your quirk it starts to melt and turns to lava. "Im coming." you stood up and left. Kiri looked at your desk and an idea popped in his head. When lunch time came you noticed that you forgot your phone on your desk. When you approached your desk you saw a paper bag and opened it, there was some muffins and donuts in the bag. You raised your eyebrow and noticed the little note 'Enjoy the muffins -Kirishima' You gulped and took a donut, when you had a bite you noticed the falling tears from your eyes. Kiri left early from work and started to head towards Bakugou's house, he sent him a quick text and Bakugou told him that he was on his way. His hands started to tremble just when he was trying to make it up to you, Mina was telling him that she was pregnant. He needed Bakugou's advice. When Bakugou came he saw Kiri sitting on a chair, his hands were pulling his hair. "What happened again, Shitty hair?" he asked but when he saw his friends eyes filled with tears he quickly took of his coat. "Oi Kirishima, why are you crying?" he sat down and Kiri opened his mouth "Mina is pregnant." Katsuki's eyes widened, he didnt know what to say bc Kiri didnt looked happy. "Just when im trying to fix things with Y/N..." the tears continued to fall and thats when Bakugou snapped, Kirishima was his best friend but he needed to be realistic. "How are you trying to fix things with her? Kirishima you broke your promise, you know that right? She trusted you and you wounded her! Then you got married with racoon eyes and you expect your marriage to be good, you dont even love her! Stop living in a dreamland and be realistic for a second, Y/N moved on, even if she still loves you, she managed to move on. You made a mistake so stop playing with her mind and feelings. She is trying to forget you and since your 'WIFE' is pregnant she is going to get sad again, thats enough let Y/N breathe." Then he got up and poured a glass of water. "I dont know what to do..." he looked at Bakugou and sighed. "What do you feel? If you dont love racoon eyes why are you sticking with her? Think carefully Kirishima, im going to take a shower." Then he left. Kirishima closed his eyes and started to think "What do i feel...?" He knew everything, he knew that he was still in love with you but it was too late, he didnt even explained himself in the past but he wasnt happy and he wanted to be happy so he was going to listen to Bakugou.

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When he got home Mina was eating cookies and watching a movie. He sat down and closed the TV, Mina looked at her "Mina, we need to talk." her eyes widened bc of Kiri's serious tone. "What are we gonna talk about?" she asked, her stomach started to turn. "I want a divorce." he looked at her and waited for a response then Mina started to shout "Are you going to leave me alone with our child?! I knew it, you never loved me!" Kiri grabbed her arms and pulled her in a hug "Im not going to leave you with our child, im going to love our child no matter what but we cant stay married Mina and you know it. Im tired, i dont wanna lie to myself anymore." her sobs got louder "B-but Eiji, i loved you!" Kirishima took a step back to meet her eyes and said "Mina, lets be honest to ourselves from now on."

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You were drinking some coffee with Momo and Uraraka, it was a quiet evening and your friends brought some cakes to eat. When Momo took a sip from her cup she started to speak "Y/N, we heard that Mina is pregnant." You stopped chewing your cake and looked at her, they got married and it was natural that they were having a child but it still hurted. You wanted to built a family... With him... "Oh, congrats." Uraraka and Momo shared a nervous look then Uraraka continued "But... They are getting a divorce." You started to cough and choke on your cake. "Oh god!" Momo quickly patted your back and you chugged down a whole glass of water. "Why?" you asked them with wide eyes. "They had problems from the start, Mina always told us that she was suspicious about Kiri having feelings for you." you stopped breathing. "They are getting a divorce bc of... me?" you asked, you tried to move on but it was your fault??? “No Y/N, ofc not!" Momo interrupted and continued "Mina called me and told me that Kiri was struggling with a problematic marriage and she told me that Kirishima said something like 'I cant lie to myself anymore." or something similar to that, so its Kirishimas fault not yours." You were furious, you were going to give him a piece of his mind, you waited for the girls to left your house.

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After an hour of talking, Mina kicked Kirishima out and he was going to stay at Bakugous place. He was thinking about her, the love of his life, Y/N. Everything could be perfect but he ruined it. Then Bakugou came with two cans of beer and sat beside him. When he brought the can to his mouth his phone rang and both men saw the name on Katsuki's phone. "Y/N?" Kirishima looked at his friend and Katsuki shrugged, he pressed 'answer'. "Hey, Katsuki." he heard your voice from the other line "What up?" he replied. "Where the hell is Kirishima?" Kirishima heard his name on the phone and quickly looked at his friend "What is she saying?!" he asked, Katsuki gave him a 'shut up' look and asked "Why? Is it about work?" you started to get more irritated "WHY DO I NEED TO GIVE YOU A REASON WHERE IS HE!" Katsuki's eyes widened and he looked at Kirishima, even he heard her shout. Then Kirishima nodded and Katsuki continued "Hes at my place." then you replied "Ok, im already on my way tell him to come out." Katsuki was dumbfounded what the fuck was happening? "What?! Why are you coming here-" then you hung up "Damn it !" Kirishimas eyes were wide open "Y/N is coming here?!" Katsuki grabbed his shoulders and looked at him in the eyes "She is coming for you and she is furious! You got this!" then he started to shake him "Ya hear me?!" Kirishima was trying to understand the situation but both of them were confused as heck. "W-wait bro, what am i supposed to do?!" he panicked and Katsuki replied "The hell, i dont know?! Just go there and listen to her! She is almost here!" Kirishima quickly brushed his teeth and used one of his bros perfume. He was trying to do some breathing exercises then both of them heard your cars horn. "Ok, go there and stay strong!" Katsuki opened his apartments door and Kirishima nodded.

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You leaned onto your car and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Then you saw a stupid redhead walking towards you with a nervous face, your heart clenched in your chest. "H-hey Y/N, how can i help you?" oh his stupid voice, his stupid eyes. You hated him, how he made your heart stop, how he made your cheeks flush, how he made your body shake. Then his eyes widened and you asked "What are you looking at?!" and he slowly gulped "Y/N, you are crying..." Then your eyes widened and you touched your cheeks, why were you crying? He should be the one who was crying! "I-i.... You-!" You started to sob, he didnt know what do all he wanted to do was hug you but he knew that you didnt wanted him to touch you. "Y/N-" , "Stop! Dont even open your mouth and listen to me!" he stopped and waited for you to calm down. "I heard that you are getting a divorce, is that true?" you asked and tried to stay calm "Yes..." he answered "Why?" you asked another question without waiting. "Why are you gettin a divorce it has only been 5 months ?" you even knew how long. "Isnt she pregnant? Shouldnt you be supportive?" Kirishima's heart stopped, you knew that Mina was pregnant? "I cant do it, it doesnt feel right. Im going to be a dad for our child but...", "But what, Kirishima?" he was gettin more nervous "We just cant get along." he gave a short answer. You took a deep breath "Uraraka told me that she was accusing you for having feelings for me." His cheeks started to burn and he saw the sad look in your eyes "I tried to move on, Kirishima i tried... I didnt do anything to you both and you are getting a divorce BECAUSE OF ME?" you started to raise your voice "No! Its not because of you, i cant take it thats why we are getting a divorce!" he raised his voice, he wanted you to listen. "I want answers! WHY DID YOU LEFT ME ?!" your legs started to shake and you were having a hard time trying to stand straight, he immediately tried to hold you but you pushed him "KIRISHIMA TELL ME! WHY DID YOU STOPPED LOVING ME?!I WORKED SO HARD JUST FOR YOU! YOU WERE MY EVERYTHING!" you were crying on the floor, he started to cry and kneeled in front of you, he pulled you into a tight hug, first you struggled and begged him to let you go but he was too strong for you. He waited for you to calm down and started to stroke your hair. When he felt your hands clutching onto his shirt he didnt wanted to let you go and inhaled your scent. "I dont have any excuse, i ruined our future, you were so far away yet worked so hard just for me, Mina and i had a friendship and we just lied to ourselves, i was such a stupid teenager and im still so stupid, on the wedding i kept imagining you walking beside me... I never loved anyone else but you..." he waited for you to say something but when you stayed silent he continued "We started to have fights on the first day of our marriage and she always brought you up saying that i was still in love with you, i never denied it because it was true and she knew that." he sighed "Bakugou always warned me about my desicions but i was keep following my stupid thoughts, even all of our friends were against the idea of us getting married but they stayed silent because they didnt wanted us to think that they are bad." you raised your head and looked at him in the eyes, his eyes were begging for you, it's been so long... you were finally touching him. "Y/N, i want you, i want you to be my partner, i want you to be the mother of our kids, even if you hate me... I love you, you are the only one im thinking about since highschool." you touched his cheek and his eyes started to shine with tears again, he quickly covered your hand with his "I dont hate you Kirishima, you... yes you are stupid!" he laughed and you joined him. "Y/N, please give me a chance and lets build our future." he looked at you with sincere eyes and rested his forehead on yours. "Kiri... Promise me, you are going to do your best." he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, you let out a yelp and turned red "I promise, sunshine." your heart started to beat faster, you used to call him that. He leaned closer and closer... Then after all these years both of you shared your first kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he squeezed your waist, he didnt wanted to let you go, he finally had you by his side and he promised himself to make you the happiest woman in the world. When you exchanged numbers you gave him a goodnight kiss and left, Bakugou was waiting for him in his living room, he expected to see a sad and broken Kiri but when he returned he had the biggest smile on his face. "Did she hit your head with a metal stick, why you smiling?" Bakugou asked, this dude was crying 45 minutes ago but now he was jumping around like a little boy. Kiri told him everything that happened and Bakugou was happy for his best friend "You better not ruin it this time that stupid Y/N is my friend too, or something like that." Bakugou never admitted loudly but he cared about you he was the one who supported you all this time.

-

-

-

After all this events, Kirishima finally managed to separate his ways with Mina and took Y/N on several dates, the girls were so happy for Y/N and the boys supported their relationship then congratulated Y/N for her patience and keeping up with Kirishima's stupid actions. After some months Mina gave birth to a little baby girl. Kirishima promised to be a caring dad and he rented an apartment for himself. His daughter was really fond of him and he was the sweetest dad ever but sometimes you got jelaous bc you wanted him to be the father of your kids. One day when you were watching an animation with Mizuki, Kirishima suddenly grabbed your hand and dragged you to his kitchen, he wrapped his arms around you and peppered your cheeks with kisses then things started to get intimate and you stopped him "Kiri, Mizuki is here remember?" he smiled, how could you be so thoughtful? You were such an angel, he lifted you and made you sit on the kitchen island, he layed his head on your chest and you started to stroke his hair. Then suddenly Mizuki appeared and you quickly pushed Kirishima, she came with an empty bowl that used to be filled with cookies "Can i have more cookies?" she asked and Kirishima sighed "But didnt Y/N filled that bowl with cookies, dont eat too much." she made puppy dog eyes and you giggled "But i love eating Y/N's cookies!" she whined then looked at you with confused eyes "Why are you sitting up there Y/N?" you quickly remembered what you were doing a minute ago and your cheeks started to burn from embarrasment, Kirishima started to laugh "Why dont you come up and sit on my lap Princess Mizuki?" you smiled and she ran towards the island, Kirishima lifted her and gave her to you "Now you are tall just like your daddy!" You poked her cheek and she laughed "Im the princess bow down daddy bow down! You are the knight, you are going to marry me!" all of you started to laugh "Ok then who am i, your fairy?" you asked. "No! Im the princess so you are the queen!" you smiled and Kiri looked at the both of you with loving eyes "Yeah, she is our queen." you blushed, all of you started to play a kingdom game. Then Mizuki got tired and fell asleep, Kiri carried her to his own bed and you waited for him on his couch. He appeared with two cups of coffee in his hands and sat next to you, "Thank you for spending your day off with us, baby." he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you replied "Anything for both of you." He kissed the tip of your nose and sighed. "Im so grateful Y/N, you dont need to support me you know? Mizuki is not tiring you is she?" you took his hand and gave it a squeeze, "I love her, Kirishima." he put his mug on the table in front of you and pulled you to a tight hug "I dont deserve you, angel." you giggled and replied "I know." he laughed. "Mizuki loves you so much, Y/N. First she was confused about us being a family or not but she knows that i love her no matter what." you nodded and started to talk "Kirishima you are her dad and Mina is her mother, i cant change that but i love her with all my heart." Kiri grabbed your chin and planted a kiss on your lips. "I love you so much Y/N."

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You just came home back from work and saw a missed call when you looked at the contact info you saw her name. "Mina" its been so long since both of you had a conversation but you decided to call back. She quickly answered "Oh uh um, hey Y/N." she was nervous and it was obvious. "Do you need something from me?" you asked and she was silent for a moment then started to speak "Listen Y/N, you are always taking care of Mizuki and she always talks about you, im so grateful for that... I just wanted to... Apologise to you. Y/N i had a crush on Kirishima but it was temporary and i lied to myself. I got married with him, we tought that our friendship was something else and its hard to accept it but he always tried to pretend that i was you, he failed. Because you are the one he loves, i cant be you and we had a strong friendship with you Y/N. I made a mistake and i want you back." your mouth was opening and closing like a fish, you didnt know what to say. You had a beautiful frienship with Mina when you were in U.A so ofc it wounded you when you guys had an argument. "Mina, i forgave Kirishima for his mistakes and i cant ignore you bc it wouldnt be fair to you so... Its okay." you heard sobs and hiccups. "Y-Y/N thank you, everything was so hard and a big mistake! I love you so much and i dont want our friendship to fully end..." The coldness you felt towards her vanished, she realized her mistake and was apologising for it, that was the important thing so you took a deep breath and continued. "Im not cruel Mina, we lost so many years so lets make good memories, okay?" she sniffed and replied enthusiastically "Yes! Lets make good memories and rebuild or friendship!" then you chatted a little and hung up.

-

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Now...

Kirishima quickly answered his phone and heard your beautiful voice. "Kirishima you are running late for work!" he could see your face through the phone "Baby, do you have a frown on your face right now?" he asked "Omg are you here?" he started to laugh "No baby, its obvious from the tone of your voice." you sighed and laughed. "Hurry up stupid redhead! We have so much work to do!" he chuckled "Ok baby im coming, dont worry, love you." you replied "Ofc you love me, im the one who has to deal with you everyday so you better love me more!" both of you were laughing like stupid highschool kids. "Im coming, angel." then he hung up and head towards the kitchen, Mizuki was walking back and forth. "Daddy hurry up, lets go!" Kirishima quickly dropped her to Mina's place and drove towards Fatgum's agency. He quickly checked his pocket and grabbed the velvet box. He opened it and eyed the ring one more time "You can do this Eijiro, you better do it!" He quickly gave Bakugou a call and he answered "Im working shitty hair." he sighed and started to talk "I know dude but, im going to propose to Y/N today." Bakugou snorted "Finally. Then what are you waiting for huh? Go." Kirishima smiled to himself "Thanks for everything bro." "Yeah yeah i know, dont keep that dumbass waiting if she gets mad shes going to kick your ass and you are already late arent you?" Kirishima chuckled nervously and Bakugou sighed "Later, Eiji." he hung up and Kiri quickly got out of his car. He saw you in the lobby, you were tapping your foot on the floor impatiently. He laughed at the sight and approached you "Hey baby." you gave a sigh of relief and punched his arm "Come on! We have a mission to go!" The mission went smoothly it wasnt that dangerous, some low level criminals. When you came back to the agency you quickly head towards the showers. The girls in the changing room greeted you and one of them asked "L/N-senpai when are you going to get married with Kirishima-senpai?” Your cheeks flushed and you coughed. "Um... We are gonna get married but i cant give you a specific time." some of them gave 'oohs' and 'awwwws', you quickly took a shower and opened your phone, you got a message from Kirishima.

Sunshine: Hey baby, why dont you come over tonight?

You: Sure! I have some paperwork to do, its not gonna take long.

Sunshine: Ok, im going to leave early today and i will be waiting for you in my place, love you!

You: Got it, love you too. <3

You smiled at your phone then started to head towards your desk, it took 30 minutes to finish the damn work and you quickly sent him a text saying that you were coming then you started to drove, it took 15 minutes to get in front of his apartment, you climbed the stairs and opened the door with the key in your pocket, you had his apartments key bc you can? "Kiri, im home." You looked around but the living room was dark, you started to head towards the kitchen and the lights were off "Kiri?" you called but there was no answer then you felt strong arms wrapping around your waist from behind, you jumped and turned to see Kiri with a smile on his face "Welcome home, baby." your cheeks got red 'Home...' "What were you doing in the dark Kiri?" he laughed and took your hand in his. "Lets go to the balcony shall we?" He dragged you towards the balcony and slided the door open. Then you saw a blanket fort with yellow lights and fluffy pillows in it, you giggled. When you were a student in U.A, you loved making blanket forts with your friends, especially with Kirishima. "Surprise!" he laughed and you started to jump "Awww Kiri, this brings back memories!" he quickly crouched down and layed on the soft sheets it was a high and big blanket fort so it was comfortable. You quickly layed next to him on your stomach and supported yourself with your elbows, you looked at his cute face and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Then he handed you a bowl of popcorn "I chose an action movie from my pc, come on lets watch it!" you nodded and both of you got comfortable in eachothers arms. When the movie ended, Kirishima pulled you onto his chest and started to stroke your cheek, you guys started to chat about random things and stupid stuff that you did in U.A, he slowly got up and you followed his action. "Y/N... I love you so much." he smiled but his aura was different so you started to get nervous, was there a problem? "I love you too, Kiri." you smiled back then he grabbed something from his pocket and you stopped breathing, there was a velvet box in his hand, you quickly looked at his eyes and he was smiling so sincerely. "My angel, will you marry me?" your eyes started to water, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Yes, yes, yes! A million times, yes!" He started to cry and hugged you with full force. Then he put the ring on your finger and looked into your eyes, "I promise you, i will make you the happiest woman in the world my angel." You kissed him and replied "Oh my sunshine... Lets build our future together."

A/N: This was my first one shot! I hope you liked it!<3

[yeoldontknow]

Ciperion: 1/2

Author: @yeoldontknow​ as part of the Anchors & Arrows collaboration with @imdifferentshadesofpurple​ Pairing: Jaebeom x Reader (oc; female) Genre: fantasy!au; shipwreck au; jaebeom is a fisherman; romance; angst; elements of horror; ghosts; eventual smut Summary: Everyone on the Isle Indolon knows the story of Ciperon, though none believe it is true. Over centuries, the tale of the long lost ghost ship on the high seas has become little more than urban legend. In his youth, Jaebeom always thought the story was heartbreaking, and he did his best to avoid it - the same way he avoids the missionaries that have taken occupation on the island. On the anniversary of Ciperion’s ill-fated port date, you wash up on sea, and only you have the answers he’s always been seeking. If only you could remember who you are. Rating (this part): PG-13 Warnings (this part): angst; shipwrecks; references to head trauma; jaebeom does CPR; jaebeom rescuing an unconcious woman; allusions to sexual assault but it didnt happen, he just is protective and misinterprets everything; anxiety; ptsd; vomiting; ghost stories; graphic depictions of violence; mentions of blood; non-major character death; themes of horror; lots of grief; memory loss; jb doesnt really know what to do with himself; mentions of becoming a widow; it sounds really sad but i promise its not that bad; tbh oc is a really great sport Word Count: 17.5K

Three hundred miles off the emerald coast of Isle Indolon, Second Mate Ansil Green looks up at the shimmering night of the dark sky and feels a chill of apprehension burrow deep within his bones. 

There are only three days left to their journey, and for five months he has charted each with meticulous accuracy. It is easy to rely on the stars, he thinks. Their steadfast illumination and the reassurance found in their seasonal rotation have brought him immeasurable comfort throughout his life, and not once, not even on nights when storms threaten to eat their way through the ship’s bowsprit, have they ever led him astray. 

In the berthing hull, the missionaries say their prayers with tightly clasped hands, while others read their scrolls in preparation for new lectures once they reach the shore. Back in Indolon, Ansil’s wife and two children anxiously await his triumphant return, and everyone, every crew member and stow away rat, is eager to breach land. Even now, he can see it clearly - his wife’s pretty eyes as she laughs, small crescent moons that remind him of the night sky; the youthful, almost violent laughter of his sons as they play in the fields; the creaking if their iron bed frame as he rocks between her thighs, not unlike the ship as she rocks against the sea. 

Tonight, he wonders if these simple treasures have fallen too far out of reach, if they have slipped, imperceptibly, out of his grasp. 

Because tonight, the stars are wrong. 

Gripping the mahogany banister, he leans against the side and cranes his neck, angling his view slightly to the right in the hopes of correcting the pattern. Something about this is terribly wrong, wrong enough that the deepening doubt bites at him, heating his skin like a fever. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he does his best to swallow this worry,  attempts, rather meekly, to focus on the light flapping of the mainsail above him, on its rhythmic and soothing white noise that often helps him drift, hazily, through sleepless nights. Now, it offers him little comfort, the wind that moves the ship rustling through his hair, stroking against the shell of his ear, carrying whispers of splintered wood and rocky shores blackened by sea water mixing with spilled blood.

Heavy footsteps make their approach from behind, the purposeful strides and confident gait of Captain Grier L’Allante causing the heels of his boots to shatter the false sense of peace. Ansil does not move to greet his Captain, and while this would be considered an insult on any other crew ship, he supposes Grier has become used to his flippant and yet focused attitude when the stars are out, decades of manning ships alongside one another having reduced the rules of propriety almost entirely non-existent. Keeping his gaze on the sky, he feels Grier come to stand beside him, the heat of his closeness full of pride and awe; admiring the vastness of the sea before him, he exudes an energy that puts a sour taste in the back of Ansil’s throat. 

How he hates to ruin the evening.

‘We’re going in the wrong direction,’ he announces, feeling Grier stiffen rather than deflate entirely.

His captain hums in consideration, never one to give over to fear or uncertainty. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Look at the stars.’ Ansil corrects his posture and regards his friend with pleading eyes. It is, perhaps, the first time he has ever shown signs of fear with his captain, but Grier maintains his composure and presses his lips into a thin line. ‘They’re at the wrong angle by about twenty-six degrees,’ he continues to explain. 

Pointing up at the constellation Cassiopeia, he gestures a long straight line back behind him, back towards the foresail, in the direction of Hydra. Turning once again to look at Grier, he waits for some kind of flicker of emotion to pass over his features, and when nothing comes, he simply sighs, pressing his friend for more. 

‘This distance shouldn’t be this wide,’ he offers grimly, straightening his posture to stand at his full height. ‘Did we turn?’

‘No.’ Grier barks his reply with forceful authority, though, behind his eyes there is a storm brewing, a brief flash of concern that placates Ansil. ‘I helm this ship myself, and you know in your heart we haven’t turned. You said straight on until dawn, and the wind is steady at four knots to the South-West. We’re still on course.’

In unison, they turn back to the sky, and Ansil tightens his grip on the railing. ‘There’s something bad about this. I can feel it.’

Grier chuckles amicably. ‘What you’re feeling is five months staring at the same bloody lights in the sky.’ His gaze falls on Ansil’s profile, and he can feel him regarding his features with probing scrutiny. ‘You didn’t even take a woman at the last port,’ he states, nudging his shoulder with a force that makes Ansil lean to the side. 

‘They’re not precisely the same,’ he admonishes with a laugh. Grier regards him expectantly, but all Ansil can manage is a sigh of longing. He’d love to laugh at this kind of crude joke, and normally he would, but three days is somehow longer than five insurmountable months, the ability to count them transmuting the number into something brutal. ‘And you know I’d never do that to Mala.’

Taking off his hat, Grier runs a hand through the greasy black strands of his hair, grimacing through his laugh. ‘Too loyal for your own good.’

This is something Ansil can tease him about, and he offers his friend an impish grin, taking his own opportunity to nudge Greir’s shoulder roughly, revealing his hidden strength. ‘And your prick is too slippery for your health.’

It’s childish, the way they punch their fists into one another’s arms, the jovial nature of this making him feel as though they are teenagers once again. At once, he is nineteen and Grier has just convinced him to come out to sea, to stow away on his father’s vessel, and they are laughing at the reckless foolishness of this idea. But they are smiling, already hungry for the adventure, already wanting the spray from the waves and the salt that shall never leave their skin. They are young and they are hopeful, and now, even after the bloodshed and the violence and the horror they have seen among the ocean, he thinks they have never been quite as dangerous as they were then.

‘You need rest, mate,’ Grier advises once they’ve settled back against the railing. They look out over the ocean, the water as black as the night it reflects, light of the moon illuminating the peaks of waves and casting shadows behind them as long as the sea is wide. Releasing a deep sigh through the flare of his nostrils, he suddenly becomes alarmingly serious. ‘Otherwise, it’s scurvy.’

A beat of silence passes between them, a pregnant pause in which neither one of them breathes, the word hanging heavily between them both, unwilling to be touched. Until, they erupt into laughter, Ansil leaning against the railing to steady himself atop the wet baseboards. A wave hits the side of the ship and sprays gently against his cheeks, cooling his skin and for a moment, he is grounded in the happiness of this. For a moment, the sky is clear and he can see Grier’s warm, too kind smile; can see the way the ship is heading home, steadfast and unyielding in her journey.

For a moment, there is peace.

Calming his breath, he runs a hand over his face and nods. ‘What I would give for a peach.’ 

Ansil waits for the inevitable hum of commiseration, a sound of companionship in the memory of the juicy ripeness of Indolon peaches - the yellow of their fruit so moist it would leave their hands sticky for days. He can almost taste the burst of flavor in his mouth, tongue wet in desperation for something other than the salt and brine of oysters and trout, and finds the only consolation for this hunger is that they shall arrive in time for the peak season. 

Ansil waits for Grier, but the sound never comes, his captain watching the waves beyond the ship with lips parted in pale shock. Knotting his brow, Ansil takes his time turning to look where Grier’s focus rests, the tendrils of dread rising once more within his belly. The fear in him feels almost inhuman, taking full control of his joints as they stiffen, keeping him rigid and held firmly in place. Grier continues looking out to sea, blood rushing away from his cheeks, likely retreating within to service more important pieces in preparation of survival. 

When Ansil finally gathers his strength, he swallows thickly, and looks out to the water. He has lived through war - a great many battles on Naval ships both larger and smaller than this. He has seen dying men beg for both life and death, the fear in their eyes making it unclear which they crave more. He has seen waves rise taller than the ships he crews, seeking an immortal companion for her enduring loneliness. 

But he has never seen fog overtake the earth quite like this, or with such wrath.

It comes from nowhere and everywhere all at once, swallowing both sea and sky as it crawls across the horizon. From its center, an ethereal light seems to glow, a beacon to herald the nothingness that surrounds them, but even this light too is a half formed shadow, the core of its rays smeared across miles as it spreads within the clouds. The blood in his ears in unrelenting, the rush of his blood to his thunderous heart making his head begin to hurt as he watches it spread. Has anything ever been so fast? 

The fog works quickly to cover everything in sight, racing towards the ship at a speed he simply cannot comprehend. When he was young, and newly appointed to Third Mate Naval Officer, he sailed aboard the Cygnus, the fastest ship Indolon had ever produced - reaching a record breaking thirteen knots in the correct wind conditions. Somehow, this fog is so much faster, ravenous for absolutely everything it touches as the waves begin to still beneath its touch. 

The wind ceases.

The waves still, cannibalised by the fog.

And as he looks to Grier, their eyes mirroring the horror they find in each other, he realizes the ship has come to a full stop.

It is when the fog touches the boat that he hears it, the anguished screaming of men beneath their feet. Even at war, he has never heard such terror as this. The sound is born from men suddenly learning that they will die, this death an ambush to the unsuspecting and therefore all the more gruesome in its wake. He regards his feet with a disgust that taints his numbness, the abjection of this noise releasing a myriad of feelings within his veins - the urge to run, the urge to scream, a tightness in his throat so painful he fears he may suffocate on the size of it, and the overwhelming desire to cry. Yet, it seems his body cannot decide upon any of these, and so settles on none, rendering him absolutely and completely silent. 

They stand above the berthing hull, listening to the missionaries burst to life for one extraordinary moment before their echoes die one by one, their last breath a wail of anguish. As Ansil takes in a long, slow inhale to steady his growing panic, he can smell the acrid stench of blood and piss wafting up between the boards, bile rising to the back of his throat. The silence that befalls them in the aftermath is threatening, an eerie calm that raises gooseflesh along his skin. Bones brittle and mouth dry, he simply stares at Grier and takes in every detail he can, unfailingly certain this is the last time they will see one another. 

In the distant horizon a tall mast looms beyond the mist, the main mast taller than that of their vessel. The crow’s nest is empty, and if he focuses long enough he has the passing sensation he could look right through the wood into an empty, eternal void. 

‘It can’t be,’ he whispers, reminding himself it is just a legend and that legends are buried in the past.

They are buried.

His voice carries no echo, the atmosphere around them tight enough his voice lives and dies before him, reaching nowhere else but his own ears. Grier does not even react, does not make any movement at all, save for the shifting of his attention to the world behind Ansil, eyes trained on something that makes his adam’s apple bob in the effort of swallowing his trepidation. 

A bead of sweat glides down Ansil’s spine, and he can feel an angry shadow looming behind him. Burning like hellfire, he waits for the scent of his own flesh bubbling beneath his chemise to reach his nose, readying for immolation. Death comes slowly for people like him, he supposes. It likes to take its time weighing the worth of his soul and the value of his existence. He has made love and he has made life, but he has taken far more than he has created, and so he suspects this slow conquering of his person is deserved - retribution for the bloodstains etched into his palms.

‘Ciperion,’ Grier says, eyes widening in sudden, terrible realization.

It is the last thing Ansil sees and hears before cold hands wrap around his jaw, pressing fingers into his mouth and pulling until the pain in his bones, his skin, his muscles is so great the world turns black.

Standing on the old oak dock behind his home, Jaebeom stares out at the open sea and knows that, today, the water is ruthless. 

He can feel the rage beneath her waves, the violent and unforgiving aggression of the current guiding the water as it rolls up against the edge of the dock, shaking its legs as if testing the foundation’s strength. The first light of morning is unable to penetrate the intense cloud cover along the horizon, their peaks and valleys tinged with red shadows behind the murky green and black. Awake far too early to begin his descent to the jetty, he balls his fists in the pockets of his linen coat and eyes the gathering storm with suspicion. 

Once again, he’s been brought out.

Pulled from his feather bed by some unseen force, it has become a habit for him to spend his early hours on the dock, overtaken by a profound sense of longing. Rooting himself to the wood, he has grown used to the passage of time that drifts beyond him, and finds that he is unencumbered by these lost moments. It’s been happening more often as late, his sleep interrupted by the desire to see and to know, an endless stream of questions burning at the back of his mind that chase the sleep from his limbs. But, always, the words are garbled, the thoughts unclear. 

It is worse today - somehow, he knows this with all of his being. Even as he stands, completely alone and unseen, he feels naked all the way down to his nerves. Narrowing his eyes, he peers at the water, unblinking, taking hold of the ache within his chest. Something is missing, has been lost. Or, perhaps, it was taken from him, the intense longing in his chest delivering him a nostalgia too great to be expressed or understood. If he looks long enough, he can almost envision it emerging from the horizon, precariously balanced as though hanging on a thread. 

But the image never fully forms, never reveals its nature, and he is left bereft, hissing a sigh of frustration between his teeth. 

Gulls pass overhead, making way for the Southern shore. Their calls are the music of the morning, a siren song that only serves to mire him deep within his thoughts, and he blinks several times as he rolls his shoulders back, trying, and failing, to collect himself. The current sends a rough breeze through the thin fabric of his chemise, the uncharacteristically cool summer air nipping at his skin, and he bristles though he does not shiver.  Digging his nails into his palm, he struggles to gather the will to leave, every bone in his body telling him he must wait.

Each morning Jaebeom finds himself in this position, looking out to the open water and waiting - wanting to write love letters, wanting to write odes, often wanting to simply cry or curse the tide for what it has taken, but he remains mute, dumbfounded, lingering expectantly for an answer that will not come. And he is angry, muttering to himself that he must leave, that there is no purpose here, but the thought of missing it only serves to aggravate his insistence on keeping still, on looking and looking harder. 

‘Come on,’ he mumbles, as if willing a response from the sea.

When nothing comes, the muscles in his arms and thighs tense as he presses himself into the dock. ‘Show me,’ he hisses, emphatically.

Immediately he feels terribly silly, not even certain to whom he is speaking. It is not the first time he has made these demands, not the first time he has called out to the sea as if it would even deign to reply. The answering silence and empty air should neither surprise nor disappoint him, but as his posture curls and his chest deflates, he finds both of these things happen in quick succession. Something is out there, something beyond the place the light touches, and he thinks what frustrates him most is the endless unknowing. 

Voices along the shore break his concentration, a group of missionaries walking side by side, barefoot in the warm sand as they talk, sometimes laugh, amongst one another. The sound of their chatter breaks the magic of this hour, an unwelcome interruption to the morning solitude. At once he returns to himself, hands in his pockets relaxing out of the fists he’s been holding, and suddenly he feels rather neutral about his position on the dock, about the ocean, and the thick clouds overhead. 

The town has started to wake, the missionaries commencing their morning walk a sign that he is late - terribly late, and the time it will take him to prepare his sails and his nets will likely cause him to miss the golden fishing hour. Closing his eyes, he hangs his head and sighs, certain he will lose the best crabs of the day. 

Briskly walking along the shore to the jetty, he keeps a wide berth from the missionaries as he passes. Jaebeom keeps his eyes trained on the rocky jut of the shoreline, keeping his posture rigid in the effort of not being overtaken by the staggering sense of unease that gradually drops his feet to his stomach with each step he takes. He’s certain they must feel this, must feel the crushing weight of his discomfort, and he furrows his brow, swallows thickly, and grits his teeth as he prepares for conversation. 

‘Good day,’ they chime in unison, bowing their heads in greeting. The steely chill in their voices makes him shiver. ‘May Deus keep you.’

Jaebeom simply nods politely, but says nothing, finding no solace in their words. On instinct, his attention diverts to the slotted diamond shaped symbols on their rosaries, a sense of nausea rising in his stomach. Lifting his gaze to their faces, he focuses on their features - their eyes, their well practiced smiles, their royal blue square hats - but all the while, he battles against himself, soul willing him with all its might to look, once more, at the rosaries. 

Quickening his steps, he hurries past them, releasing a breath he did not know he had been holding. Running a hand through his hair, he chastises himself sheepishly for his disrespectful behavior. He’s old enough now, nearly thirty and well past the age of childish anxiety, to know they are harmless, it is harmless, but still he feels a rattle in his bones even after they have disappeared from view. He remembers the monthly service ceremony - his mother, her pleading eyes, and his frightened distress as she brought him along. Long into the night, he would be plagued with the memory of their long faces and their empty expressions, the fear and hatred in him making him feel sick with fever. 

Eventually, he grew out of this level of anguish but still his maturity and his logical reasoning do not serve as a comfort. In the numerous missionaries that occupy Indolon, he finds no refuge, no joy, somehow more sure now, in his old age, than ever of their wrongness.

His schrooning boat is docked at the base of the rocky cliff side, just below the lighthouse and pushed far away from the crowded wharf. As he makes his approach, he feels the eyes of other fishermen bore into his spine, their judgement of him, his lack of a First Mate, a crew, and his placement of his boat always deeply felt at this hour of the morning. But he does not mind. 

Since he was small, Jaebeom’s understanding of the sea, of her nature and her cruelty, has kept him at a great distance from his peers. As a child, he preferred to listen - to listen to the ocean and to watch it change, finding a deep affinity in her tumultuous loneliness. This kind of loving relationship, he thinks, has developed into a skill that keeps his family well paid, a roof over his head, and the bellies of many full. Maintaining a crew would simply distract him, his mind less on the water and more on the work of his members. 

And while he, too, might have agreed the placement of his boat against the rocks is reckless at best, it is placed where he would catch crabs as a child with his father - the best location to spot their lavender and purple shells as they eat the moss along the stones. And just below, the bright vermillion of the king crabs glittering as they sink to the ocean floor.

Stepping onto his boat, he sheds his linen jacket and cranes his head back to observe the large mast, its mainsail tied neatly at the base with a strong sailor’s knot. Rolling up his sleeves, he lets the sea breeze kiss his warm skin, heated and dewy with moisture from his walk, and watches light behind the clouds do its best to illuminate the land below. The rains will likely start soon, the hours left in the day for adequate fishing conditions dwindling, and so he hoists himself up on the shroud, untying the sail in quick, easy motions. 

Climbing up the iron ladder connected to the mast, he reaches for the rope at the center of the sail and latches his fingers, giving one large tug to set the sail free. It flaps loosely in the wind, releasing itself to its full length, and as he makes his way down in the cover of its shadow, he looks out to the lighthouse, admiring the way the tall grass is somehow more viridescent beneath the grey skies as it reaches upwards, asking for rain. Autumn is nestled in the branches of the trees, the peak summer season soon to give way to the burning gold of autumn, but as he regards the lighthouse field he finds it difficult to imagine the world any other way than this. It’s as though the earth has always been green, always been bright, too alive to ever fully be witnessed.

As he takes in the splendor of the earth, letting pleasure root itself against his ribs, he notices, rather curiously, a pile of cloth discarded amongst the rocks. Strewn carelessly across the sharp incline, the ivory cloth has been yellowed and torn, resting long forgotten in the shallows. Narrowing his eyes, he steps off the shroud and leans over the edge of his boat, glad that it is still tied to the fender and not drifting away with the sudden displacement of his weight. As he continues to look, the ivory gives way to the vitality of flesh and long limbs, and his mouth runs dry. 

‘By Deus,’ he whispers, the dread in his veins restricting the volume of his voice. ‘It’s a person.’

Limbs moving of their own accord, Jaebeom is carried back to the dock, hands working quickly to remove his boots. Gaze unwavering, he keeps his eyes on the body, transfixed and horrified, afraid of letting his eyes wander for fear of it disappearing altogether. His heart beats like thunder against his sternum, warring with too many emotions and unable to allow any one a victor. Behind the worry, the confusion, the terror, a curious sense of relief is building, a calm that would almost have him believe he is not in the process of coming undone. 

If he focuses on it, he gets the sense that this is what he has been waiting for - not just in the morning before the dawn breaks, not just in the crash of waves against his boat and their icy waters demanding his spirit, but for always. In this moment, the hollowed sensation in his heart, the sense of something long absent, is scabbing over with each breath he takes. 

Barefoot, he moves at a slow run, something like grief and hope mixing in his blood and putting a swell in the joints of his fingers. Jaebeom stifles these feelings, grounds himself in the reality that someone might be hurt, might be in need, and reminds himself, dutifully, that it is not the time to be carried away with his emotions. Still, there is a tingle at the base of his neck, an urgency that goes beyond humanitarianism, pushing him forward with exhilaration.

'Help.'

A female voice is carried on the wind, musical in its cadence and pleasurable in the way it sings its request. The ocean spray delivers it to him at the same moment the water bursts over the rocks, the sea mist rising up against his cheeks before retreating through the crevices in the earth, cooling the flush beneath his skin. Inside him, it burrows, reaching down and deep to nestle in the long empty caverns of his heart. As he moves over the rocks, carefully placing his feet to maintain his balance, he strains to hear it once more, certain it is a woman he is racing to help and she is begging to be saved. 

'Help heal.'

'I'm coming,' he calls out, voice as shaky as his legs and echoing over the ocean’s roar. 

He does his best not to cut his toes on the angular shards that have been eroded over years of rough sea water, but with each step he takes the water rises over the rocks with an aggression bordering on feral, demanding all of him within its foam. With each rush of water, he has the feeling it is reaching for his ankles, hands desperate to clutch at his person and drag him down, and down. 

Yet, the closer he gets, the more he feels as though he could weep - from joy, from desperation, from loss - and this alone is enough to make him want to rush, pushing through the erratic rhythm of his heart and beyond the lump in his chest that makes each inhale ache. Now, with a clear vision of the body, it is as though you have been spit from the ocean’s mouth, cast out for your transgressions and all the corrupted ways you have disappointed the ocean. There is tragedy in the way you are draped over the rocks, body poised at woeful angles for having displeased the gods. Now, you have been forced to greet the horror of your retribution. 

Only a few rocks away, Jaebeom allows himself a brief pause and takes you in, letting his eyes take their time in their discovery of your person. Hugging himself, he suddenly feels conflicted, as though he is learning your shapes while still becoming reacquainted with something long missed. This state of being is a paradox, and in the full emptiness of it, he has the passing sensation that he is learning the essence of love, and little else. 

Shaking himself free from his idle reverence, he takes a few steps closer and notices the silk of your dress is ruined, perhaps permanently. His jaw drops slightly at the still gleaming shine of the fabric, the most expensive silk he has ever seen. It clings to your skin, dampened and tarnished, fraying at the ripped edges but still doing its best to hold you delicately, clinging to you in the effort of keeping you safe. Something about the cut of the dress triggers a memory he cannot quite reach, a familiarity in its lines and shapes that make him recall there was a purpose behind this outfit, a reason that it is both extraordinary and unforgettable, but it vanishes from him as quickly as it came. The fog in his mind is heavy, muddling his thoughts and pulling at the edges of his concentration and he knits his brow together to keep himself grounded.

In the aftermath of this brief recollection, he bites a whine of longing burning at the back of his throat, a pathetic sound of loss, regret, mourning. Your hair spills over the rocks, eyes closed and skin bruised though not scraped to bleeding. Flickers of recognition press at him, mind racing around the image of your soft lips, the high angle of your cheekbones, and the delicate elegance found in your wrists. Struggling to recall your name, Jaebeom approaches gently, coming to a kneel at your side, unsure what to say at all.

Pressing two fingers to the pulse point in your neck, he feels a dull, yet ever present, throb of life beneath your skin and releases a breath he did not know he had been holding. Alive, though just barely and unconscious, lungs likely full of sea water. Everything about you is soft, the warmth of life fading quickly beneath his fingers and rendering you terribly fragile, and he retracts his hand for fear of his touch giving bloom to more marks along your flesh. 

Glancing around the cliff face, he looks for signs of wood, other bodies, ripped sails or bent iron, but finds nothing. No signs of shipwreck, no signs of a waiting party to receive you. You are alone in this torment, rejected by land and sea, and forced to exist within the limbo of life and death. 

Before he can stop himself, he lifts you to his chest, cradling you close as he rises to a stand. If you were awake, you would be shivering, would tremble in the chill that means to overtake your very bones, and he hurries as best he can back to his boat and the woolen blankets he keeps in case of cold summer rains. Moving quickly over the shore, he stumbles slightly, feet tripping over themselves in surprise as he feels you burrow into him, seeking warmth with a low moan, and brow furrowed in what he hopes is simply the effort of healing. 

Finally aboard once more, he takes you into the small cabin beneath the helm and tucks you into the straw bed he keeps for nights when the winds are threatening and violent, remaining on the boat in case the waves should do their best to reclaim the wood. Draping several blankets over you, he crawls close enough the heat from his chest could radiate into your skin, encouraging a rush of blood in your veins. His fingers twitch, wanting to brush stray strands of hair out of your eyes, but he presses the flat of his hand into the bed, resisting his urges. 

The medic will need to be informed. This realization hits him with a bitterness that speaks of separation, chest restricting and tightening against the air in his lungs until it hurts to breathe. Against his bones, his muscles battle the urge to hold you close and he shuts his eyes with a grimace as a headache blooms at the base of his skull. Yet, as he strains to focus in the quiet of the cabin, he is acutely aware there are no traces of your breath, no labored wheeze no even inhalation, and so he resolutely declares that he will ferry your oxygen, coming to sit up on his knees as he plugs your nose and presses his lips to yours, opening them slightly. 

Cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jaebeom exhales deeply, letting the strength of his breath travel into the limit of your lungs. Squeezing his eyes closed, he exhales for as long as he can manage, giving everything within himself to you before, all at once and all over again, he feels as though he has stepped out of himself. 

Once more, voices materialize at the back of his mind, these new sounds more like echoes that erupt from nowhere and no when, fingerprints of a bygone era carried to him on wings. Their words are a garbled mess of sounds, undeterminable cadences lacking diction or emphasis, but he hears the sound of a man, low and gentle and wondrously tender.

He hears a man, and the man is unmistakably, unfailingly, him. 

Opening his eyes, he drinks you in, and surrenders to the notion he is being conquered by the mere sight of you. One word from you, and it would be as violent as a new beginning, a great shattering of all the comforts he knows of the world. And he would welcome it, knows, as if by magic, that he has given over to it before, would give over to it again, the power in you so great only ritual could contain it.

Blinking several times to clear the shock from his mind, he quickly moves his hands to your chest and presses against your sternum in the rhythmic way his sister taught him when he announced he wanted to be a fisherman, just like their father. Her eyes had glazed over then with the memory of loss and strife, and so she laid him on the floor and promptly taught him how to save a life should the sea threaten to claim a man as her own. The muscles in his harms strains as he continues pressing, and he thinks maybe he will need to press his lips to yours once more, bracing, instinctively, for more voices to fill his head, but a rush of water bursts from between your lips and he quickly moves back, turning you to your side to let it drain completely.

Falling back on your side, you release a cough but you do not wake, the small puddle of water between you both at once threatening and sacred, a reminder that everything Jaebeom has seen and felt is real, tethered to this moment. Tethered to you. 

‘Who are you?’ he murmurs, but even as he says it, even as the words leave his mouth, he knows this is not the right question. 

In the oncoming silence, the correct words swell on his tongue, nearly tumble from his lips, but, instead, he chews the inside of his cheek, aware that the right question will insight a riot in him he is unprepared to endure. 

When Jaebeom carries you into his home, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, overtaken by the staggering weight of deja-vu. 

He’s been in this position before, holding you against him in the center of his small kitchen as the elasticity of his emotions stretches outward for an eternity. There is an awakening occurring at the very center of his soul, bursting like a new star as its white heat slithers down his spine. Glancing down at you, your soft lips, your closed eyes, and your limp frame, held so closely to him, he feels the earth move beneath his feet, the shifting tectonics of his life all leading to this single moment. 

Shaking his head, he releases himself from this, moving to his bedroom with focused steps as he places you in his bed. Igniting the oil lamps, he works quickly to bathe you in warm light, covering you with his down comforter before moving to the furnace tucked in the corner of the room. In summer, he keeps little coal and kindling but he uses the last of the brush wood he’s saved from the recent winter to ignite a small fire that burns red and gold behind the latched closing.

He regards your still form with a frown, running a hand through his hair in distress and grits his teeth. The last several days have been almost unbearably hot, but it seems August’s heatwave has been broken by the cool wind of the day, the overall gloom breaking the humidity and blocking the sun from her usual path. Of all days, it pains him that this would be the day the sea released you from her clutches, sent you from the cold depths of her darkness back to the shore where the sun refused to keep you. 

From his kitchen, he takes a small linen cloth, inspecting it for cleanliness, and folds it into a long rectangle. Warming it in front of the furnace, he rotates it in circles before he feels it is sufficiently heated, just enough to ease tension in your muscles and restore heat where you need it most. It warms his hands, palms already swollen and grown clammy, room becoming relatively stuffy as he slides the cloth beneath your neck while you sleep. Already, a pink flush has begun to settle within your cheeks, the relief in him not unlike a rapture.

What will you say when you wake, he wonders. How will you sound when you look him in the eye, unsure of where you are? More importantly, he worries if you will wake at all, if perhaps the rush of blood beneath your skin is the last tour it will take before it stills altogether, heart too sluggish to keep a steady flow. The thought sends a tremor of heartbreak into the base of his spine, and a pained gasp tumbles through his lips, scorning the very notion of the thought. 

He needs an occupation to distract, needs a purpose to feel as though there is progress being made, and so he turns on his heel and grabs his coat, supposing that when you do wake, he should at least be ready.

The walk to his sister’s cottage is not long, one that he usually relishes in the spring when the path is lined with blossom trees and the foxes play around their dens, their ruddy tails bouncing amongst the high grasses. Today, his strides are long but the journey feels endless, the path reaching well beyond the limits of the land, his mind thinking only of arrival rather than enjoying the view. 

Another group of missionaries passes him along the dirt road, and he crosses to the other side to give himself space, freedom, liberation from their watchful eyes. Offering them sidelong glances, he studies the way they regard him conspicuously, whispering to one another as though he cannot hear the faint sounds of their voices, the conviction of their stares a judgement he feels with all of his body. Do they somehow know that he has found and kept a woman? Have they heard the voices too, the echoes he is resurrecting just by being near you? 

He finds he cares little for the answers to these questions, deeming their existence as something infinitely less important or significant in the light of resolute purpose. 

Byeol answers the door after three hard knocks, her face a picture of confusion that still does nothing to mar her beauty. She stands just shy of his height, one hand on the door and the other on her hip, the laugh lines along her cheeks carrying a secret smile within them. 

‘Jaebie,’ she announces, more a question than a statement. Arching a single brow, her brown eyes bore into his with the chastising admonishment only an older sibling could manage. ‘Shouldn’t you be fishing?’

Jaebeom nods, a noncommittal gesture of affirmation, and presses his way through the doorway, past her slight frame. He wastes no time slipping off his boots as he fumbles for an explanation. 

‘Sorry for the unexpected arrival,’ he mumbles, only partially apologetic. ‘Something’s…’ his voice drifts away, eyes looking everywhere but her face as he searches for the right words. To tell the truth means he must tell the whole truth, unable to hide anything from her, and so he settles for one single, vague word. ‘Happened,’ he says, finally.

Immediately, he regrets it.

Byeol’s eyes widen, hands raising to gently cup his face in her palms. Satisfied he is whole, they run down his shoulders to his arms, searching. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No, no.’ He pulls himself from her grasp, hands raised in surrender, offering her a sheepish smile of amiable regret. ‘Nothing like that. I, uh, need to borrow some of your clothes.’

She takes a single step back, brow knit together in bewilderment. A myriad of emotions pass over her face, and Jaebeom does his best to count them all, the youth of her features rising and falling between her fear, her amusement, her apprehension. Eventually, she settles on curiosity as her eyes rake him up and down, one hand resting on her chest, perplexed yet surprised.

Rolling his eyes, he turns away from her and moves through her home, heading towards the wooden staircase. ‘They’re not for me.’

Byeol follows close behind, hot on his heels. ‘You’re telling me you…’

There’s too much excitement in her voice, the sound and volume of it making him close his eyes as if bracing for a storm. In one fluid motion, she rounds in front of him to block his path, eyes wide in delight as she makes an inappropriate gesture with her hands. 

‘No!’ he scolds, though he finds he must swallow the early threads of a laugh. ‘Not that either.’

Resting his hands on her shoulders, he feels a slight flush creep into his cheeks as she giggles in childish glee. Gently easing her to the side, he continues up the stairs with heavy thuds of his feet. It always amazes him how easily, and how quickly, Byeol can manipulate the atmosphere in the room, her energy always barely contained and always terribly infectious. Questions are burning at the back of her throat, and she follows closely behind, the bounce in her step echoing around the house behind him. 

Just like their mother, she will not let this go until she is satisfied, will not let him leave until she has received at least one answer, and so he releases a silent sigh as he reaches the landing, turning down the hall towards her room. He should be commended, he thinks, for the bravery he must assume to endure her interrogation.

‘There’s a woman -’ he begins slowly, only to be cut off.

‘You bastard!’ she exclaims delightedly, slapping his shoulder blade with enough force to make him stumble. 

She takes his slight hesitation as an opportunity to run ahead of his once more, the glee in her eyes wild and bright, a look he once found vindictive in their youth. Spreading her arms wide, she presses her hands into the frames of her bedroom doorway, full of impish joy as she stares him down. The love he feels for her blurs together with his frustration, the affection in him rising like a tide.

‘Would you stop?’ he pleads, though now he does not bother to stop his laugh. ‘I just need some stays. A chemise and some trousers, too, if you have them.’ 

Standing to her full height, she raises her head elegantly, full of self-importance and authority, swallowing her smile for a serious expression of warning. ‘You can borrow them on the grounds that you give me her name.’

Exasperated, he looks away, letting his gaze move to the side and into the small rectangle that is Sun Hee’s room. It’s messy, the bed unmade and several books piled onto their mother’s antique rocking chair. Atop the books, her stuffed crochet kitten rests, presiding over the chaos like a queen. Along the walls, sepia portraits of his mother and father hang beside cross-stitch pieces his sister did while pregnant: one a rabbit, another a bundle of wild flowers, one a vestige of the sea. In the center of the wall, above her small wrought iron bed, a portrait of her father is framed and hung, the frame a silver gilded edge that catches all the light, even when the clouds threaten to block the sun.

When he looks once more at his sister, he sees how his silence and avoidance has riled her further, her wry grin returned once more with all its damning inquisitiveness.

‘Do I know her?’ she presses, narrowing her eyes.

He shakes his head, and offers a small shrug of his shoulders. ‘No,’ he explains, ‘I actually don’t know it.’

Jaw dropping, she reaches forward once more and slaps his arm. ‘Jaebie!’

Dropping his head, he presses his fingers into his eyes and wishes, with all of him, that her assumptions of his perpetual loneliness and solitude were not such a concern. Wishes, more than anything in this moment, that Sun Hee did not frequently ask for an auntie to play with, her lack of a father rendering her wishes for a sibling obsolete. For any other man on Indolon, a woman in his home, let alone his bed, would hardly be news, would hardly warrant any discussion at all, but Byeol has watched him try, and fail, over the years to find a woman who loves as ardently, as openly, as intensely as he does. 

She has watched him resort to his life by the sea, watched him spend days alone on his boat, returning at sunset and smelling of brine and salt. All her life she has watched and she has worried, alluding to the full weight of her concern only in jest.

‘Can I please just have them?’ he groans weakly.

Lowering her arms from the doorway, she steps to the side and welcomes him through. ‘Yes,’ she acquiesces. ‘Take what you need from the closet, but this isn’t over. And be quick, I’m on my way out.’

Jaebeom tosses her a silent expression of gratitude over his shoulder, moving through her room with quick steps. ‘Where are you going?’ he asks, sliding open her wardrobe and taking things he knows she keeps but does not often wear, certain she will not miss them. ‘Isn’t Sun-hee already at school.’

Byeol moves behind him, gathering her headscarf from atop her bed and tying it with a hum of confirmation. ‘I’m going to Mala Green’s. Her husband’s ship was meant to port two days ago. It never made it.’ 

Jaebeom stills, clothes draped haphazardly over his arm as he turns to greet her eyes. Together, they regard one another in silence, a cold chill seeming to overtake the room. He remembers the look he sees in her eyes now, remembers the bone deep anxiety and the way she did not sleep for weeks, not even months. In a single moment, it is four years ago and they are both bereft.

‘The Pyxis?’ he murmurs, remembering how he and his sister and his niece, and all the town had watched it sail away from port eight months ago, waving until it disappeared from the horizon. 

She nods minutely, a small motion almost imperceptible had he not been watching her intently, looking down at her hands where she nervously picks at her fingernails. ‘She is thinking the worst.’ 

Dropping the clothes to the bed, Jaebeom takes a few strides and comes to stand before his sister. Letting his hands rest on her shoulders, his thumbs press idle, reassuring circles into her muscles, hoping his expression looks hopeful, at least. ‘It could just be delayed.’

Taking in a shaking breath, Byeol nods but does not lift her eyes to his, gaze trained instead on the unsteady  motions of her hands.‘We always like to think that, but…’ Falling quiet, she glances towards her vanity, a distant expression of longing painting her features. He knows she is looking at her wedding photo, but he does not mention it. ‘A woman always knows, doesn’t she?’ she finishes, finally looking at him with an empty smile.

And just like that, in the length of the shallow stretch of her lips, they fall back in time to Port Vela. She clutched his hand as the Aquila departed, the strength in her grip enough to turn both their knuckles white. The intensity of this touching reminded him that to love is to open the heart to grieving, that to love means to welcome the notion of losing, and so he pressed his fingers against hers with the same force, joining her in solidarity. 

Even before the missionaries declared him dead, she knew he was lost. The tears she shed in childbirth were not those of bodily trauma but those of heartbreak, once more holding his hand and begging for him to tell her why Dong Hyun wasn’t there with her, why the missionaries were forcing her to believe he was still alive. She said it hurt to know they were teasing with the heart of a widow, that moment perhaps the last time he ever feigned trust in the gods and their mortal vessels. 

Dong Hyun had left to deliver a group of missionaries from a nearby port, and they were angry for weeks at their failed return, citing a growing population that needed more help. Jaebeom never knew why they didn’t come to the funeral, his sister and his newborn niece crying in unison against an empty coffin while he pressed his feet into the wet grass. He wanted them to see what their selfishness had done, the rage in him putting a sheen of sweat on his neck, the most angry he had ever been. 

‘He’ll be okay,’ he states, pulling them both out of the darkness of their thoughts. ‘They will all be okay.’

It’s a nice thing to say, he thinks, something that sounds reassuring and optimistic, but he wonders, quietly in the back of his mind, to whom he is offering this confidence.

Byeol startles slightly, eyes glassy and slightly glazed over with memory as she takes him in. ‘Yes, well,’ she begins, stepping out his hold to gather her things. ‘It will be good to be there for her.’

Jaebeom watches her move towards the door, hands balled into fists and pressing his nails into his palms. It’s more visceral now, somehow more tangible than ever, the unease he feels when he thinks about their blue cloaks - their endless, royal blue. 

‘Launder those when you’re done please,’ she says, coming to a halt and pointing her long index finger at the clothes piled on the bed. ‘I don’t want to be wearing any of your remains -’

Jaebeom’s eyes widen, the spell of his thoughts broken by Byeol’s teasing giggle. ‘Byeol!’

She simply steps into the hallway and moves down the stairs, her laughter carrying through the house as though the sadness had never been let in. 

It was only when you said you were leaving, announcing the date of your expected departure with wild eyes and ink stained hands, that he thought maybe, horribly, he had not told you he loved you enough. 

You showed him the boarding papers, the crew notes, the bonds list and you were laughing, disbelieving that good fortune could shine on the persistent. Years of work had culminated in this opportunity, and you could not tear your eyes away from the King’s signature, it’s black script so formal you pressed your fingers to your lips to hide the ferocity of your smile. He loved you most then, burning in silence and struggling to find the right way, the best way, to tell you that his love for you demanded he become monstrous, too many hearts in his chest to contain the totality of this wanting.

‘It will be the longest we’ve ever been apart,’ you said, chancing a look at him, and the briefest flickers of grief walked across your face. In an instant, you tucked them away, smoothed your smile over and put the light back in your eyes, hiding from him the very thing that could bring him to his knees.

‘I’ll send a hawk to woo you,’ he offered, the smile tugging at his lips only half genuine, only half true. 

He was certain you knew it, too, but you simply chuckled, arched one perfect brow and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

‘You’ve already done that.’

He only had a week to show you that he loved you beyond reason, beyond the human capacity for emotion. One week, and you would be gone, drifting away from him at sea, and he would be waiting, always waiting. 

‘Then I’ll do it again.’

Again and again he would do his best to win you over, holding you tightly against his chest and reminding you there was nowhere as safe, nowhere as sacred as against his skin, against his heart. You leaned up to kiss him, always eager and impatient for the things you wanted most, but he breathed against your lips, let your twin exhales unify your heartbeats and reminded himself that you were still here.

He could feel you. You were still there.

Jaebeom wakes with a start, hairline dampened with warmth, stress, and confusion. 

The dawn breaks through the sheer curtains of his bedroom window, the heat in the room oppressive and stifling as the embers within the furnace strain to match the gleam of the sun. Curled in a ball atop the lambskin carpet at the foot of his bed, the joints of his knees and elbows are aching, having been forced into one position too long. Tentatively, he stretches his limbs with a low groan, elongating his back against the floor and does his best to remain quiet in his relief. 

When he’d returned home, you were still sleeping. Unchanged and in the exact position he had left you, a brief anxiety overtook him at the sight of your too relaxed face and the weakness in your limbs. There was a fragility in you that frightened him, a treacherous sort of quiet that promised great annihilation consuming the room and reaching down, deep within his ribs, compressing his lungs. He would have shed tears for you, would have unleashed an expression of grief so holy and so silent it would have broken worlds - but you moaned, almost regal in your suffering, and, for a moment, he was weightless.

In the tense tranquility that followed he slumped into the reading chair beside his bookcase, head buried in his hands, and sighed. With his eyes closed, he could pretend things had not changed, that he was still himself, that he still belonged to himself. It was as though there were two of him, battling within his blood - the one that knew nothing, that craved the assurance and predictable simplicity inherent in the life he had built for himself. 

But the other is violent, a torrent against his bones reminding him this life is not his, that you are his life, and the passion in him is pushed into madness at the notion of not being able to follow where you have gone.

‘All this?’ he lamented into the rough skin of his palm. ‘All this over the desire to be loved?’

The moon was midway through its journey across the sky when he fell asleep, nestling into the rug at the foot of your bed - at your feet, though still giving you the distance, giving himself the distance. And all night he had seen you, felt you, let his whole world become enamored with you.

Pressing the base of his palms into his eyes, he groans, letting the dark become coloured with reds, whites, and purples under the pressure. Rustling from somewhere in the room makes his heart stutter in its rhythm, motions still and muscles tense with the effort of not moving, simply listening. His is not the only breath in the room, and when he takes his hands away from his eyes, his vision adjusts to see you - your face framed by your hair as you lean over the bed, regarding him curiously. 

Startled, Jaebeom sits up, head dizzy with the sudden movement, and he presses a hand to his temple though he does not close his eyes, fearing he might still be dreaming. A dark night lives in your irises, hungry for everything that comprises his very being, and even as he lets his vision focus, lets himself recline into the intensity of your stare, he feels as though you are burning inside him, tearing your way through his sinew, the most voracious thing he’s ever seen. You regard him, unblinking, studying every detail and nuance of his features with tension in your brow and parted lips. 

Briefly, he wonders how long it has been since someone looked at him like this, looked at him as though he is both the universe’s greatest secret and its most coveted answer.

‘You’re awake,’ he manages, throat dry and voice constricting beneath such coveted attention.

Instantly, he curses himself for such a simple and obvious statement. All night he had imagined hundreds of first conversations with you, knowing his first words with you would ultimately be the most important, and already he has betrayed himself. You’ve taken all the power from him, left him in such a state of shock, he supposes his words have withered, nothing in the world as sacred as your eyes on him. 

But the smile you offer him at the sound of his voice could combat the sun, the world brightening around the fullness of your cheeks and the pleasure you keep at the corner of your lips, like a secret. A blush burns at the tips of his ears, and he is glad it does not immediately live in his cheeks, pleased he has learned, somehow, to not give himself away all at once. 

‘I am,’ you nod in affirmation. A chill walks down Jaebeom’s spine, the sound of your voice an echo of his dreams, exactly as he heard it all night long. ‘You found me.’

Seconds stretch between your bodies, an infinite eternity between your last syllable and his first breath, his eyes on yours like a pledge of loyalty. 

‘Were you looking for me?’

Hope invades his words without his permission, helpless against their desire to be the thing you sought most, to be lucky enough to be your prize. His fingers press into the soft strands of the carpet beneath him, and he watches as you fall back against your legs, shoulders slumped as you look around the room. All at once, emptiness overtakes you, the light in your eyes dimming as you search within yourself for an answer.

‘I don’t know,’ is your whispered reply. Looking at him once more, he feels as though you are rooting within his soul, continuing the expedition within him. But still, you are lost, voice adrift and lost at sea. ‘I can’t remember.’

He smiles encouragingly, wanting you to know, more than anything, that it is okay. For himself, he reminds you both that everything is okay.

Inching along the carpet, he clears his throat as he rests his arms on the bed, gazing up at you as though he is making wishes on the moon. He wants to be close to you - more than he’s ever wanted anything, Jaebeom wants to be in your orbit, close enough he could taste the salt that still lingers on your skin. Biting his tongue, he swallows all his rushed, messy emotions and clears his throat, choosing instead the words of logic, the words of practicality. 

‘What is your name?’

Little by little, your smile slowly fades, burned by this simple question. Still, you remain calm, perplexed and unsure of how much of you has truly been misplaced. ‘I don’t know.’

‘That’s okay,’ he reassures you gently. ‘My name is Jaebeom.’ In saying his name, he waits for a flicker of recognition, a response that would confirm all he has spent the night feeling, but you simply regard him blankly, glad for the conversation. Shaking his head, he sighs. ‘How did you get here?’ he tries, keeping his voice calm so you find no reason to panic or run.

Now, your smile disappears completely and all that is left behind is you, your sadness, and the way it clings to your body like a shadow. The smallness of you in this moment puts an ache in his chest that feels like an inheritance - something he has been owed, that you owed one another having vanished in the completeness of your unknowing, and, together, you grieve. With a slow shake of your head, you confirm there is a void surrounding the nature of your being and the reason for your arrival, and the longer he looks the more he sees how this torments the deep desire that quakes inside you.

He knows nothing of you, knows only that you are here and you are tangible and you are emptied, but still he can sense you are a wild, impossible beast of a woman. The storm in you could tear the world asunder, and so he tries a different tactic, choosing to ask what is felt rather than what can be recalled, wanting to hold onto as much of you as he possibly can.

‘Are you hurt?’

For a long moment, you consider his question, as if thinking through the concept of hurt, the very notion of it, rather than the truth of it. Running his eyes over your frame, he notices that some bruises on your arms have already faded, as if the midnight sky was your healer. You are far healthier and far more whole than the person he found yesterday, but there is a strangeness to the way you look at him, to the way you think through his questions that gives him the passing sensation that you are not there at all.

He fears, all the way down to his marrow, that if he were to look away, you would disappear completely.

‘It does hurt, yes,’ you admit finally. Offering him a small nod of confirmation, your eyes grow wide as though you yourself are surprised by the experience, the ability to truly hurt a clandestine experience.

Jaebeom had feared this. Always, the most lethal of wounds are the ones not worn on the skin. ‘Where?’

Slowly, you lift a hand to your chest, right above your heart. Pain etches itself on your face, the turmoil of bewilderment and confusion, the misery of things long lost, making a home of your soft features. He watches your brow knit together as you regard him, a slight downturned frown tugging at your lips as you silently beg him for answers. 

Reaching a hand forward, his fingertips nearly graze the smooth skin of your knee, exposed between the ripped threads of your silk dress. When he’s close enough he can feel the warmth from your skin, he remembers himself, retreating back to curl his hand into a fist.

‘Did a man hurt you?’ 

He hates the way the words taste, sour and acrid on his tongue, but he supposes this dress is your wedding gown and he’s seen more than his fair share of broken hearts around town. This, of course, would be the worst he has ever seen, but he chooses not to worry you further, keeping his voice soothing and calm.

‘No,’ you shake your head, looking beyond him into a distance that is both contained within and expanding outward. ‘Not one,’ you continue with a dark whisper. ‘Many.’

Jaebeom does not think himself a man prone to violence or aggression but, in a single moment, he feels his heart is a weapon. His spine straightens as he rears back slowly, relying entirely on the support of the floor beneath him. His hands are no longer his own, knuckles taught with the desire to tear his way through flesh and sinew. There is no limit to the monstrous creatures he would face standing up for you; he’s burning, fully ablaze alongside you, and it surprises him how quickly kindness can burn away.

‘We can report it when you are well enough,’ he announces, clearing his throat in the effort of remembering himself. As much as he would go to battle for you, he similarly does not want to frighten you. ‘When you remember the details we can report it. They won’t get away with it.’

Shoulders relaxing, your hand falls away from your chest as you find comfort in his words, and a small sense of pride prickles at his ears and neck. With anyone else, he’d be sheepish that he is giving himself and his emotions away so quickly with you, but he can’t help it, he thinks. Not when you look at him like this, like he’s the part of summer you’ve been anticipating most and are pleased by the mere sight of him. People don’t look at him like this, especially the people he wishes would look at him and want to continue the mere act of seeing him. You make him feel like someone, and he is more with you than he ever has been on his own. 

Keeping your eyes on his, you shift so you rest on your hands and knees, crawling across the bed towards him. Jaebeom leans back, pushes himself away from the bed and it is only when the heat from the still burning furnace threatens to sear his chemise that he pauses, looking over his shoulder to pout at the proximity. Your hand presses against his foot, stopping his movements and he returns his focus to you once more, all breath and blood flow halted in his veins. 

You’ve climbed off the bed, settled on the floor with your hand on him and a glimmer behind your eyes that says you know he has longed to be touched. Has he been real before this moment? Has he truly existed until the moment you placed your hand on his skin, a paradoxically cold warmth that sends a chill up his legs and into his groin. Until this moment, he has been afflicted with the strangest sense of object permanence, but only of himself - himself and his relation to you, the only thing that has ever truly mattered.

‘You won’t come close to me,’ you explain, sounding terribly sad.

Deflating, he leans forward and places his hand on yours, finally, running his thumb along your knuckles. The salt from the sea has turned your skin into the softest thing he’s ever touched, and he applies just enough pressure to remind himself you are tangible, real, present. 

There’s something familiar and, simultaneously, ephemeral about the way his hand moves over yours. He finds it impossible to look away as he explains, ‘I wanted to give you space.’

‘I’ve had enough,’ you counter, and the sharpness in your words has him taking in your lips, your cheeks, your face in wonder. You are every bit the tempest he knew you would be, and he smiles, amused and gladdened by your confident vehemence.  

Pulling your hand out from under his, you raise it to the side of his face, tucking strands of hair behind his ear and letting your fingers glide along his cheekbone. The intimacy leads him, momentarily, to believe that he is completely naked, exposed to you in all the ways that could truly break him. Once more, he feels you searching within him for something you can almost grasp. Words live and die on his tongue, answers he too craves fading before he has the chance to truly process them.

You are unified in this complex looking, the act of remembering both a mysterious and a fact.

‘You’re familiar to me.’ Cocking your head to the side as you speak, the childlike curiosity you exude has him pressing his hands into the carpet, reminding himself it is still too early to take hold of you, too early to hold you against his heart as he had done in his dream.

‘Have we met before?’ he offers gently.

Excitement colours you, has you straightening as you pull your hand from his skin. ‘Do you know me?’

It’s his turn to shake his head, his turn to smother hope with little disappointments. ‘No.’

‘Then I suppose not.’ 

With a slight shrug, you return your hand once more to the side of his face, palm cupping his cheek to trace the contour of the bone. Little by little, your eyes soften and a silent yearning overtakes your features. Jaebeom wants to tell you everything when you look at him like that. Things he’d never breathe to another person, things he had long since forgotten rise up in his throat and he nearly chokes on them, wanting you to have absolutely everything.

Running your thumb over his bottom lip, a blissful sigh escapes from the center of your chest, eyes slightly glazed as you luxuriate in the texture of his skin beneath your finger. ‘I don’t mind, though. I like looking at you.’ 

How like a child he feels when he is with you - suddenly restless and impatient and young, the boundaries and the calculated logic he has spent years cultivating in his adulthood dissolving the moment he learns you are pleased with him. In his dream, he somehow knew your kisses were a hurricane, all raindrops and wild winds that made his skin feel electric. The way you seem to tear through him now is a confirmation he was correct, the summer in you so immaculate he thinks it is always the bloom of July in your soul.

Were he to look elsewhere in the room, he is certain it would be a betrayal - the treachery of looking away from the gods’ sky. Jaebeom is calmed by the sight of you, the anxious itch in the back of his mind dormant simply because you have decided he is worthy of being adored. He wonders where he has been looking all this time, if he has truly seen anything at all until this moment, the colours of the world infinitely more rich because of how you choose to wear them. 

Clearing his throat, he looks briefly at your hand where it holds his foot like a cross and trembles. ‘I like looking at you, too.’ It feels so silly and unimpressive, repeating your words back like a parrot, but he means it - there is more conviction in those small words than any other promise he has ever made and, when he looks at you again, he hopes you can feel it.

Your answering smile is so rich and full, he finds his thoughts are rendered unintelligible, and so he lowers his gaze to the ripped dress that does its best to maintain the echo of its former shape.  

Clearing his throat, he slowly pulls his foot out from your grip, skin tingling from the loss of contact. The warmth from your hand still lingers, and he frowns, regretting his decision even through his commitment to the choice. Pressing his hands to the floor, he rises to stand and brushes off his trousers, looking for ways to keep his hands busy.

‘Can you stand?’ You look up at him, expectant and congenial. ‘Are your legs strong enough?’

Copying his earlier movements, you press your hands into the floor and, unsteadily, lift yourself to a stand. For a moment your knees wobble, but you keep your eyes on his, shoulders rolling back as you take in a slow inhale. Finding your balance takes focus, brow knotted together with the effort of standing on weakened muscles, but you keep your feet planted, hands spread at your sides to aid in maintaining your center of gravity. And when you stand, stable and sure, at your full height, you nod proudly, delighted you have surprised yourself.

‘Good.’ The most natural thing in the world, he finds, is praising you; a long dormant habit awakening once more ‘I’m actually not sure what I’d done if you couldn’t,’ he admits sheepishly.

Amidst your infectious giggle, Jaebeom finally has an opportunity to truly take in the state of your clothes. He wonders what torment you have seen, what hell you’ve walked through that has torn the silk and chiffon down to the essence of their threads. The bodice hugs your waist, but the whalebone corset is torn at the ribs, threatening to expose your skin. There will be no saving the sleeves that hang limply off your shoulders, falling behind your back like a ragged cape. Sea water has stained the silk to a tarnished, bleak yellow, the sand of the seabed nestled deep within the folds of your skirts. 

Still, too much of your skin is visible to him. The skirts have pulled away from the bodice and a large portion of your thigh remains bare, the other leg free of clothing from the ankle to just above your knee. Standing before him, he sees you as a survivor of a slaughter that bore no claws, and he aches to pull you close, to keep you safe, to remind you that you are whole.

Perhaps, he thinks, the reminder is mostly for himself.

‘I brought you some clothes,’ he announces gently. Gesturing vaguely to the wardrobe in the opposite corner, his nerves get the better of him, words becoming bashful. ‘You look like the size of my sister, so they should fit.’ Running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands to alleviate the tension in his wrists, he pulls himself out of your orbit and heads toward the wardrobe.  ‘We need to go into town anyway to see the medic, so I can get you some if these don’t fit properly. I just…’ 

Opening the doors, he pulls out the clothes he borrowed from his sister- stays for night time, two pairs of trousers, a woolen skirt he remembers buying for his sister one solstice that she has never worn, and three chemises he hopes will fit you. He lays them out delicately on the bed, arranging them into outfits he hopes you find comfortable. Fixating on the trousers, he looks at them too long as his stomach drops. Indolon is one of the few islands where women wear trousers, their propensity for skirts just as enthusiastic and common. He hops the sight of them will not offend you.

‘Thank you.’ Approaching the bed with light, careful steps, the smallness of your voice does little to mask your immense gratitude, hands coming to graze the myriad of fabrics he has selected. 

Something about the feel of them between your fingers astounds you, a stunned silence turning adding a weight to the room that did not previously exist. 

‘These are beautiful.’ Your hand moves to the skirt, the difference in its texture putting a glee in your eyes that makes his heart swell. ‘Thank you for caring for me,’ you finish, finally looking up at him once more.

Time bleeds past him as he falls into you, falls beyond himself and into a love that consumes him. Around your body, light seems to vibrate, uncertain how to hold you and so it holds all of you, and none of you, at once, bending around your back until he wonders if the very nature of this conversation is merely an illusion. Should he look away, he worries you would vanish, that he might forget, and so he steps near enough that he might touch you. 

Keeping his hands forced at his sides, he drowns momentarily in his wanting before he speaks. ‘Anyone would do it.’

Lowering the skirt, you reach up to cup his face, forcing him to look at you. A shiver walks down his spine, followed swiftly by an unfamiliar heat in his blood as you speak. ‘I don’t remember much of the world, but I do remember that is not true. Not everyone would do as you have done.’ You lean into him, close enough your breaths touch between your bodies, his entire existence narrowing to this single moment. ‘I’m grateful for you.’ 

All of him craves giving in to the boundless lust that rages within his chest, memories of his dream resurfacing to haunt his bones. There were other memories within that dream, memories of your body wrapped beneath his, memories of your lips and the way you always pressed hard against his mouth, ensuring he would feel you long after you had departed. Jaebeom wants to live in those memories now, wants to force them into his reality so badly his hands and his sides start to shake.

But in those memories, lives the texture of your skin and the way his fingers have mapped every node of your spine. And it is only when he recalls the distant blur of this experience, so foreign to him it is as though it belongs to someone else, that he remembers there is nowhere in his home for you to undress.

When he had selected this house by the sea, he had assumed his life would contain the dawn, the dusk, the ocean, and little else in between. His home is merely one large square, the kitchen bleeding into his open bedroom and the sitting area tucked into corners he felt would be comfortable. There is, fundamentally, no element of privacy, and this is the only thing, he thinks, that gives him the strength to pull away - the desire to keep you comfortable and to be polite his only saving grace.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles, taking one small step back. It is enough for his head to become clear, enough for the sadness in your eyes at the separation to not sting like a bullet. ‘I can leave you to change.’ 

He moves around you, not really certain what he would say should you inform him you will need assistance with your bodice and corset. They are torn enough and ruined enough he imagines they will not be a problem, but the mere idea of his fingers accidentally caressing the smooth expanse of your back puts a tightness in his chest the magnitude of which has him both frightened and bewildered. 

Jaebeom does not want people like this, certainly does not want them this badly and with this much conviction, and so he walks through the bedroom and into the kitchen, the cool metal of the doorknob a balm against his skin. And it is only when he is outside, eyes closed as he lets the breeze overtake his heart, his spirit, his soul, does he feel like himself once more.

It is only when he is in an entirely different location, far enough away from you he cannot feel you, that he remembers to breathe.

The walk to town, by your side, is among the most eventful experiences of his life. 

Having roamed the island roads all his life, he has grown used to the view, the unchanging scenery resulting in him finding it to be rather dull and grey. He cannot remember the last time he saw this world with fresh eyes, the last time he took in the trees, the slope of the land and felt joy - the last time this world brought him pleasure. You however, combat the very essence of his ennui with your inherent enthusiasm, taking in every sight and every sound as if it is, not the first time you have witnessed them but, the first time you have reunited with them after many years away. 

In you, a language of reconciliation is being cultivated - one that only you will be able to understand, and one that makes Jaebeom cast you curious side long glances as you press your hands together in consternation. Your scrutiny of each detail slows the walk considerably, your presence somewhat distant and hollow as you struggle to define the essence of familiarity within you. Each time, it fades miserably and quickly, leaving you momentarily disheartened only for new wonder to replace the frustration once more. 

Through you, he begins to see the town as something eternal, something so long lasting and sacred that, even if it is forgotten, it is still unchanged and important enough to be missed. Selfishly, he ponders what place he held in your old life, if he held any place at all, aware that, sometimes, you look at him with this same questioning fixation. In his own life experiences, you appear missing, but the way you look at him and touch him assures a small, needy piece of his heart that he is remembered, and therefore not ephemeral. 

Still, he is certain you have been here, on Indolon, that this is your home and nowhere else. Having decided to forgo the shoes he had taken from his sister in favor of your bare feet, claiming it felt more natural to feel the earth beneath your toes, your steps are confident as you walk. Your eyes take everything in with too much intensity, but your steps are sure, certain of the placement and used to the cracks and the gravel that line the journey. When you are not focused on a building, a face, a view, you do not follow behind him. Instead, you are perhaps just a hair’s breadth ahead of him, relaxed in your inherent certainty. 

‘Is any of this triggering your memory?’ he quietly tries, hoping he does not completely disrupt your train of thought.

‘Yes, but at the same time no.’ Your lips continue moving even as your voice dies, murmuring mysteriously to yourself as you look around. ‘It’s like I’ve seen this before in a dream, but then anything can look like anything if you want it to badly enough.’ Offering him a sly smirk, you peer up at him through your eyelashes. ‘I still like looking at you the most, though.'

Heat paints pink smears along his cheeks, and he glances down to his feet momentarily to smile at himself, flattered and, helplessly, twitter-patted. With you beside him, so close, his fingers dig into the pockets of his coat, gripping the cloth in the effort of stifling the desire to reach for your hand.

'Thank you,' he begins, his smile unwilling to fade. Still, he does his best to warp his features into a serious expression. 'I'm glad I'm more interesting than trees and brick.'

The music of your laugh is an eruption, the juicy fullness of it breaking over his tongue and filling his mouth with unprecedented gladness. You are unshy with your laughter, endearingly liberal and letting it echo through the air, demanding everyone hear your pleasure. Jaebeom swallows thickly, feeling almost as though he can taste you on the wind, in his mouth, and he holds his breath wanting to keep you inside him just a moment longer.

'I'm serious,' you tease, nudging into his side

Passing the field of pink and blue wildflowers, you become transfixed by a group of small children playing amongst the grass. Holding hands, they jump and dance in a circle, their laughter interrupting the song they are singing in broken unison. He recognizes the nursery rhyme of Ciperion immediately, remembering how his sister and some of the older children would make him play this game with them, dancing in a circle until the song ended and they had to remain completely still. Always, one of his sister's older friends, usually the boy she had a crush on, would play Ciperion, choosing a victim to steal away from the group. Only then would the circle continue dancing over and over until only one player remained and they had to outrun Ciperion to win.

He chuckles at the memory, how petulant he always felt at being the first one out - always, and without fail. Now, he realizes it was merely because of his strong reaction to being taken that made it more entertaining for his sister's friends, his cries and yells something they would tease him about for days.

‘What are they singing?’ you ask softly, interrupting his thoughts.

Jaebeom hears your voice and looks to his side, finding you are no longer with him. Turning, he finds you have come to a halt alongside the edge of the field, watching the children with a dark fascination that runs a chill down his spine.

He approaches you slowly, looking between the children and you, finding the tether of your fixation to be unbreakable. ‘The song of Ciperion,' he explains gently. 

When you look at him again, your inquisitive expression is marred by such a sincere sense of aloneness his throat runs dry. Your prying eyes demand more from him, demand explanations and answers, so greedy and so painfully hopeful he wonders what the word wounded in you. 

‘It’s an old urban legend on the island,’ he begins, looking back at the children who have now stilled, a little girl roaming behind the group with her hands raised like claws. ‘Everyone knows it, primarily because we grow up hearing it from friends or parents. It’s really just a ghost story. Parents tell it to make sure their children don’t go too far near the shore if they can’t see them, and kids tell it amongst friends just to see who is the most brave.’

Mystified, you keep your eyes on the group of children. ‘And it’s a song?’ 

He shakes his head, meeting your eyes on the raised arms and laughing faces of the children, hoping this contact of just your twin gazes is a comfort. ‘Not really, no. It’s a story, but it’s so old it’s become a nursery rhyme.’

‘Tell me.’

Jaebeom hums, trying to remember the way his mother told him this story when he was small. ‘Centuries ago, there was a ship called Ciperion that was meant to arrive at Port Vela.’

At the word Ciperion, you bristle, eyes widening slightly, though if in terror or recognition he cannot tell.

‘It was commissioned by the King, back when there were Kings,’ he continues, watching your reactions in the corner of his eye. ‘In those days, it was the fastest ship ever created, and had been assigned one of the largest crews - they called it the jewel of the sea. The crew was composed of experts in every field - cartography, cosmology, anthropology - and the ship’s sole mission was exploration.’

When you finally look at him, the heat from your gaze puts a fire in his veins, the sheer fervor and earnestness of your attention making him shudder. Swallowing thickly, he continues. 

‘Legend says that they reached an island and saw how corrupt the Indolon King had been, how far reaching his power and torment really was.’ In the field, a little boy is taken by a young Ciperion, his scream of surprise mingling with the relieved laughter of the other children. ‘They rushed home to stop him from destroying their land, but the ship never made it. No one knew where the ship had gone, especially because the waters had been calm the night of their intended arrival.’

‘So they all perished?’ Even as the words leave your mouth, your focus turning back to the children, he knows this question is not meant to be answered, a small voice in the back of his mind advising him you already know this answer. Its rhetorical nature is anguished, lost, full of a yearning he presumes no language could ever express.

Coughing to clear his throat, Jaebeom nods knowing you cannot see him, and continues. ‘The lighthouse stayed on for weeks, even on clear nights. But still, Ciperion never came back.’

The silence in you is a sea, and once more he presses his fingers in the fabric of his jacket, warring within himself to keep his hand still. Your own hands look lonely, hanging limply at your sides as though you have been defeated by something much larger, and much more complex, than just your lack of memory. As he studies your changing expression, he counts the emotions that swim over your features - anger, fury, loss, grief, and, strangely, happiness - before you settle on none of these, choosing instead to remain empty. 

But the magnitude of this choice renders you disheartened, tears pooling in your eyes, and he watches you swallow, fighting them back to the depths within your heart.

‘There’s never been any proof that Ciperion was real,’ he offers, hoping this will aid in bringing you comfort. It was never real, he supposes, and so there is no need to mourn the loss of made up things.

Yet, this consolation does not help, only serves to insight frustration, hands at your side curling into small fists as your eyes narrow. 

Looking back at the children, Jaebeom combats the ever creeping flush at his neck and ears with the rest of the story. ‘Some say that every twenty years, on the anniversary of its port date, you can see the ghost ship Ciperion sailing along the horizon, looking for ways to dock. Only if the night is clear, that is.’

‘And if it isn’t?’ you question, a bitterness biting at your words that takes him aback.

‘If it’s cloudy,’ he offers delicately, ‘the fog along the water is so thick it blocks the lighthouse altogether. It moves up from the water onto the shore, looking for ways into houses or into town as if it has a mind of its own. And if it touches land, you can hear screams in the clouds themselves.’

As if they never happened at all, as if, all along, you nothing of this story had touched a bleeding wound within you, the tears in your eyes seem to dissolve. Your hands unfurl from their fists, and a touch of pink warms your cheeks. There is contentedness all over you, and you turn to face, a pleasant smile tugging at your lips.

‘That’s a nice story,’ you say, simply, blinking up at him in genuine interest.

A laugh bursts from his chest, one that comes from nowhere at all and instead is a bark of surprise rather than a logical expression of amusement. Furrowing his brow, he laughs to himself through the fear and the confusion, waiting for your earlier expression of grief to overtake you once more. But when it does not come, when you giggle along with him merely because it is something to share rather than an honest or sincere experience of humor, he silences himself with a low grumble and kicks the stones at his feet.

‘Yes,’ he agrees quietly. ‘It’s just something we grow up hearing, but nothing ever comes of it.’

‘Is it the anniversary, then?’ You smile up at him, seeming happy to be included in a story, happy, too, to be sharing his company, and you press your bare feet into the stones, making little shapes with your toes. ‘They’re singing with so much fervor.’

‘Yeah,’ he hums in confirmation, watching you draw circles into the earth. ‘Actually, I think it’s tomorrow.’

‘And will you look for the ship?’ 

Cocking his head to the side questioningly, he studies your face as he speaks. ‘Would you like to?’

‘Are you asking me?’ you press, tilting your head to the same angle as his. The sight of you makes his breath catch, your beauty always somehow the most arresting, the most bewitching, but watching you mirror his position creates an uncanny sense of unease in his belly. ‘I’m not sure what I would be looking for,’ you finish, uncertainty lacing your tone.

‘I’m not either,’ he laments, furrowing his brow as he takes you in. There are so many things he’d like to say to you, only to you, so many things he’d like to ask, but starting feels painful, complicated, as though he’s attempting to speak a language he does not yet understand, so he swallows, drawing the same circles as you with his shoe. ‘I haven’t gone looking for it since I was a kid.’ Your circles are so clean, while his are oblong, and he is unsure why this matters, but he is excited, fundamentally, that there is so much he can learn from you. ‘The last time it was here, I was eight, and even then we didn’t see anything.’

Nodding in understanding you hum, knitting your brow together in consideration of his words. ‘It would be...fun?’

‘If you want to, we can,’ he chuckles, peering at you through his lashes, still waiting for another response of sadness, of melancholic heartbreak to rise up in you again. The legend of Ciperion stirred something in you, touched pieces of your spirit denying access to all else, and he thinks, perhaps, it is the tragedy of lost life and torn wood that triggers memories of spilled blood. Anyone would weep at the horror of this, and so he clears his throat, remembering true horrors are the ones humanity can touch.

‘But,’ he begins, loud enough the children in the field turn to look at them, worrying their play will be halted before continuing to sing once more, ‘you washed up on the rocks.’ Looking at you fully, he feels his chest tighten, remembering the shredded silk and the way your hair wound over the rocks, latching into deep crevices just to keep you safe. ‘People don’t just come from the sea. If there’s a shipwreck somewhere, we’d have to tell the medic and the council. That’s a more pressing ship to be looking for.’

Biting your lip, your eyes grow distant and glassy as you retreat inward, mind racing towards shadowed images that render your voice small and soft. ‘I don’t remember where I was before this.’

‘Sometimes that can happen with trauma,’ Jaebeom advises, and it strikes him that your admission does not bring despair, only annoyance at your failing memory.

Through all of this, not once have you expressed fear at the notion of death, unafraid for your own mortality even after the very essence of it has been threatened and challenged. It hits him now that the only time you have ever been afraid is when confronted with the notion of others experiencing a fate meant for you. One tale of a shipwreck, and so soon were you unmade into a dark beast, woven together by sorrow. 

Kicking the stones away from his feet, he tilts his head encouragingly, wordlessly advising that you continue alongside him. ‘The medic is one of my old school friends,’ he explains with a small grin, readying for Stefan’s loud laugh and teasing sarcasm. ‘He’ll be able to tell you more once he can run a few tests. You’ll like him. He’s quite funny.’

Walking beside him, there is a bounce to your step. ‘I remember that I like funny people,’ you announce, tossing him a playful smirk. ‘Maybe I will like looking at him as much as I like looking at you.’

Jealousy tightens itself around his ribs, the selfish desire for him to be the only thing that brings you pleasure rising in his throat like bile. It is an entirely new experience for him, the notion of love that one must remember its fragility, the sacredness of a lover's admiration more divine than the gods. Already, every breath he takes is heavy with you, body and soul hypnotized by your existence, and, in the effort of appearing aloof and affable, he grits his teeth through a humorless laugh.

‘Better not,’ he teases, though the jovial nature of it is almost nonexistent. As soon as he says it, he becomes upset with himself, the statement alone so preposterous and out of his character he shivers to shake the sound of it off his skin.

You, however, do not seem to notice, nudging into his shoulder once more as you continue on the journey.

Jaebeom has not seen the entirety of Isle Indolon, his ability to travel limited by his small income and the availability of everything he needs being centered to the town. However, he has never truly felt the need to explore, their small city of Sunridge Keep the capital of the island and therefore so full and bustling with activity he finds it impossible to muster the desire to leave. Orange red brick buildings decorated with limestone columns line the road, the gravel and dirt of the path turning into smooth cobblestone, warmed by the light of the blazing sun. 

Hissing slightly as your toes touch the warm stones, you pull your foot back in surprise, only to place it back down with careful movements, mind racing once more as you take tentative steps forward. Immediately, your eyes are everywhere, touching everything all at once. You are hungry for absolutely everything, reading names of shops, studying faces of strangers as they pass, watching the florist hand out daffodils from her wicker basket as though nothing has ever been so marvelous. The bread maker offers you a warm sticky bun, and you look instead to the man’s face, not to the pastry held in his large palm, studying him as though his name might arrive on your tongue.

Jaebeom guides you away, offering the vendor a dismissive wave of his hand, only to find your eyes latched onto something else. He grows light headed watching the trajectory of your focus, your wild discontent and ravenous hunger gnawing you into a frenzied state of almost savage inquisitiveness. There is not a single thing your gaze does not touch, and occasionally you stop in front of shop windows to look in, eyes searching ever deeper for something familiar. 

The center of town always smells the sweetest to Jaebeom, and so he leads you in this direction, hoping that the star shaped expanse and its wide angles will ease some of your tension. Childishly, he plans to acquire some roasted chestnuts, certain their candied deliciousness will provide you comfort even if it does not inspire remembrance. The throng of people eases as he approaches town center, the citadel bell chiming the late early hour, and you pause, looking up into the sky in awe. He’d always loved the bell tower - even if he did not trust the missionaries, even if he made himself believe it was deception that lurked behind their irises and not concern, he always appreciated their music. 

Leading you to the large fountain directly in the center of the star, he settles on the warm marble and gestures for you to sit beside him. The rushing water calms his erratic heartbeat, and, yet again, with his eyes closed he can pretend he is small, little more than a boy who belongs completely to himself and to his mother, the whim of his will the only thing that stirs his reason.

‘We have a bit of time to rest here,’ he says, leaning back and closing his eyes as the sun cascades over his skin. It warms him from within, the magic of his childhood returning on the breadth of a sunbeam. ‘I always like to sit here a while before I run my errands. One can never deny music, can they?’

Jaebeom awaits your response, what feels like his very spirit existing in anticipation of you. But when it does not come, his skin begins to tighten amidst another wave of unease, and he opens his eyes to find you have retreated so far within yourself the shock of it lives on your features.

Hands in your lap, your back is rigid and straight, gaze flicking between the citadel tower and the people mingling at its base - up and down and back again, rushing between each as though you will never have your fill, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek. Your fingernails pick at your skin before pressing crescent shapes into your palms, adrenaline putting you in a state of anxiety so severe he finds he, too, is sitting up straight and watching the crowd for familiar faces.

‘Do you recognize something?’ It takes work to keep his voice calm and soothing, doing his best not to startle you.

‘There’s something wrong with this,’ is all you whisper, and Jaebeom scours the crowd for a sign of injury, panic, even an out of place cart, but he comes up empty, finding nothing untoward in the surroundings.

Once more, he studies every face that passes, every horse drawn carriage that moves past, wondering which of these is the culprit for your turmoil. It is only when your hand moves to his thigh, gripping tightly enough he comes to see your grip as a vice, that he notices what it is that has you so undone. 

At the base of the citadel, the crowd has started to dissipate, the smiling faces of mothers and their children departing after receiving their blessings. A group of four missionaries stands, handing out pamphlets and greeting passerby with neutral, unreadable expressions. Their royal blue cloaks catch the late morning sun, the velvet of the fabric gleaming in all their expensive glory, putting cerulean shadows on the limestone behind them. In this way, they are glowing, ephemeral visions that at once are otherworldly and oppressive, the sort of power in their light that would bring one to their knees.

As always, he shivers at the sight of them, but your grip on his leg tightens and when he looks at you again you are murmuring to yourself and he feels his jaw go slack.

‘Murderers,’ you hiss, softly enough that only he can hear but you say the word over and over, voice rising in pitch until your voice dies altogether.

You watch them, unblinking and repulsed, the fear and loathing in you so great he sees you now as a mere apparition of the woman you once were. A great tremor has started to creep through your limbs, body rocking back and forth as though you are at sea, your center of gravity warped as you continue to look and look. 

Running his hand up and down your back in an effort to calm you, Jaebeom feels his own voice start to waver. ‘What is it?’ 

You say nothing, merely shake your head, unwilling to speak for fear that they may hear you. All his question manages to do is inspire another round of mumbling, calling them murderers only to yourself and only to Jaebeom, simply because he is close enough for your voice to reach. His eyes scour the crowd for a discreet way to remove you from the fountain, looking in the direction of Stefan’s practice only to drop to a disappointed frown. In front of the pathway, at his end of the star,a group of people have gathered to inspect a vendor of Veruvian silk.

‘Murderers,’ you say again, and this time it is loud enough that a young boy passing by hears your voice, his eyes widening in surprise. 

Jaebeom grimaces apologetically, waving the boy along as he pulls you into his side, holding you close. Even in his state of panic, his heart breaks that this should be the first time he holds to him, the first time you would be able to remember, the comfort his arms reduced to merely a time and a place, and not a feeling. The trembling in your muscles is palpable, tangible enough his hands feel as though they are gripping something monstrous, something absolute in its knowledge and power. In a single moment, you have become something Other, shaking against his ribs with enough violence he fears you may tear the marble of the fountain asunder. Your hand leaves his thigh and comes to grip your seat, fingers pressing against the stone until your knuckles turn white. 

He’s certain the missionaries must see you, certain this will turn into something holy and something wholly unwelcome, but they seem to pay you both no mind, their attention devoted instead to the good and to the whole.

And just when he thinks he may be able to ease words out of you, the noise of you reduced to slow, deep inhales between your parted lips and the shaking in your muscles coming abruptly to a halt, you bed over, eyes wide in shock, as you vomit sea water, seaweed, and, most horribly of all, blood at your feet.

Author’s Note: lord god, im telling you i thought this was going to be a very short story but here i am...all this with so much more to go. im just really in love with this world and actually really proud of it? ive never done anything like this and ive been in love with fisherman!jb ever since the dye preview pics came out. ive had this in my mind since i messaged @imdifferentshadesofpurple​ in may about it and im just so glad it lives. did i make an entire story out of that one promo pic and the oyster dress by alexander mcqueen? sure bet but you cannot blame me.

tag list: @red-exo​ @heatofmyexoheart​ @majci​ @yehet-me-up​ @lamichellee​ @ahgishaman​ @softly-savage-mint-yoongi​

[svnarintaro]

forgiveness is a virtue..

read part one here

authors note: an anon asked,, so THOU SHALL RECIEVE,, also i hope y'all like fluff cause i can't write another angst for a while, i gotta stop crying for a while 

synopsis: after kendo called out shinsou for being a grade a jerk, he goes off and gets immensely jealous, and he hopes and prays that he will be able to make amends

words: 1.3k

warnings: !quirkless au! and fluff

!f*ckboy! hitoshi shinsou x reader

“okay we have to put operation: bring back soft boi back into play todoroki.” kaminari was becoming crazy, he was in todoroki’s house trying to convince him to help cheer up shinsou. the poor boy had his heart torn to shreds by his crush’s best friend, he was absolutely miserable cause he was so sure he screwed up a relationship with you before he could ever start. “keep it down denki, my dad is home right now, that’s why you had to get in through my window,” todoroki mentally cursed at denki for having the worst timing imaginable. “i’m sorry dude but i really and worried about shinsou lately.. i just want to be there for him, cause i honestly think he really liked them..” the two boys were solemn without the missing person in their little trio. “so how exactly can we get remotely close to her friends without killing us?” in full honesty they were both deadly afraid of kendo. “we gotta pray to whatever higher power up there cause there is a high chance we are going to be found dead in a ditch if we aren’t smart about it.”

you on the other hand knew what happend that day, you knew how to crack at monoma for him to tell you the truth, but you just wanted to talk things out with him, you wanted the shinsou you knew back. you just wanted shinsou. “kendo i’m not mad at you at all, i understand where you’re coming from but you can’t hit people that aren’t close to you..” you hated that the two of them fought. “in her defence y/n he was in a two foot radius of kendo, i think that was close enough.” you decided to end your mini lecture then and there,”i can’t stay mad at you guys for too long~” your best friends were smiling like fools. “but do you think that he is okay? i haven’t heard any news about him from anyone.. i’m really worried about him.” oh how you just wanted to see him, you didnt even want to talk, you just wanted to see him happy, even if the source of his happiness was not you. “it has been like a week, he will go back to school sooner or later.” kendo reassured you, as much as she hated the guy she had to admit that he made you really happy. she looked at monoma and mouthed the words ‘we have to fix this.’

monoma remembered that he was in the same english class as one of shinsou’s friends and he was starting to regret saying yes to helping kendo. ‘i really have to go around talking to a peasant now? oh the things i do for those two..’ he continued to walk towards a certain boy. “hey.. you, benki or whatever do you have a minute?” denki looked up from his current napping position, “yeah no i will not let you borrow my- OH MY GOSH YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH THAT SCARY GIRL,” denki created a significant amount of distance between him and monoma. “for your information she is more than just scary, but other than that do you know where that nuisance shinsou is? if not proceed to never interact with me if it is not necessary.” denki was slow to decode the big words but he got the picture, “wait, i don’t know where he is, but i do know how to get him to show up somewhere.” and with that the two started scheming.

you on the other hand had no luck seeing shinsou walk through the door of your chemistry class, the guy in front of you noticed that you were in a little distress, “so shinsou didn’t come again? so you wouldn’t mind if i sat with you right now?” you were weary but you needed to get your mind off of this whole shinsou situation, “it’s okay if you don’t want to, i just saw that you were kinda lonely lately.. oh my name is yuki.” the boy in front of you brightly smiled, “no it’s fine here you can sit across from me.. just thank you for trying to cheer me up.” you were happy that there was someone considerate enough to hang out with you. however shinsou was around the corner witnessing yuki get super up close and personal, ‘who does he think he is, y/n is my seat mate.’ gritting his teeth in annoyance. 

you got a text from an unknown number that made your blood run cold, school was over, and the sun was down. the text read, ‘hi, this boy in the park named monoma passed out on the bench can you pick him up.’ and you were getting you jacket on and bolted towards the park. you knew that he made stupid dumb decisions ever since you met him, ‘if he doesn’t end up alive i’m throwing a fit,’ you thought. you hoped that you weren’t too late. 

“SHOOT SHE’S FREAKING FAST I SEE HER COMING AROUND THE CORNER” kaminari complained as he saw you coming towards the park, he was the one to text you about monoma. they just needed to get you to get to the park but they didn’t know that you would come to the park but they underestimated your speed. “it’s okay we got it done.” todoroki assured denki that it was okay, kendo and monoma gave them the thumbs up to indicate that they were done and all they needed to do was hide, “i feel like you guys only keep me around because of my dad’s money..” “todo i like having you around but we gotta boogie outta here cause toshi toshi’s gotta shine right now.”

the moment you got to the park you noticed the trail of candles leading to a small gazebo that was at the park, and you were going to walk away but you saw that there was a note with your name on it that wrote “y/n please follow the path,” ‘okay what is going on here,’ you thought as you walked forward, following the candle lit path. and once you met the end you looked up to see shinsou. he was in black ripped jeans and a write t-shirt, the gazebo was decorated with white fairy lights, making shinsou look like a prince in the lighting. shinsou turned to see you here, in font of him, he had the wind knocked out of his lungs just by seeing your face, “y/n..” he slowly walked towards you and continued to talk.

“i know that i resorted to go back to my old ways.. i know that i could never be good for you, i know that i was..” he breathed in to stop himself from crying. “scared, i was scared of you not feeling the same way that i felt about you and in the end i hurt you. i hate myself for doing that, and i know that i have no right to come up in front of you and tell you that i like you when i have no actions to make up for it.” you were in tears, what he was saying was absolutely beautiful. “there is no words that can express how much you mean to me, and i hope that you know that, i know that forgiveness is a formidable virtue that is invaluable and you don’t have to accept anything.” you took a step forward, “shinsou, i know that you think that you aren’t good enough for me.. but the fact that you changed, the fact that you want me to forgive you.. it shows that you changed for the better.” you were now in arms reach of him. “now if you want my forgiveness, then please..” you wrapped your ars around him, taking in his warm scent, “please don’t go, toshi.. please don’t go, i want you to stay.” shinsou cupped your cheeks in his hands, his eyes shined as if his whole world was in his hands, you were his world. “y/n is it okay if i.. courted you?” you smile, and grabbed the outside of his hand, you felt his warmth and nodded. 

[bulletproofscales]

Could you do a Yoonseok fic where they are uni teachers and they teach in the same room? Like when Yoongi's class finishes, Hoseok's class comes in after and Yoongi has a bad habit of overstaying to get a glimpse of the other cute teacher and they just end up falling in love somehow?

– hello!! i dont know why i had such a hard time writting this request???? like its simple its cute, its lovely. i just struggled so much to find a direction to take it form. so i really hope this fufilled your vision it came out supper fluffy!! i didnt make it feederism because the pormpt didnt specify, theres like hints to a chubby yoongi if you squint . anyways enjoy!!!

3.8k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115707

Yoongi loves literature. 

He’d go as far to say, literature is his favorite thing in the world. 

No, he hasn’t read fiction since he was in highschool, and he hasn’t read fiction voluntarily ever.

What’s that got to do with anything?

When the university offered Yoongi this job as the professor in Thermodynamics, they had assured him his schedule wouldn’t clash with the other Calc II classes he gave during the week; always with a break in between. Which meant, the professor always has at least 2 hours in between his classes to use for research purposes. 

Yes… Research purposes. 

LIsten he hadn’t meant for it to get this far. Yoongi had only curiously stayed as he saw the new professor who was replacing the old lady who gave World Contemporary Literature after his class. The man looked young, about his age, delicate complexion, angelic face. 

His name is Jung Hoseok, and Yoongi had only talked to him for a couple of minutes, welcoming him to the university before leaving for his office. Though he was later very frustrated to find out, he could barely get any work done with his mind playing unhelpful reruns of his exchange with professor Hoseok. The most reasonable thing would be to try and not cross paths with him again for the sake of his investigation, right?

Yoongi is not nearly as strong-willed as he needs to be to accomplish that. 

In fact his time at the World Contemporary Literature class, only prolonged after that encounter. Waiting until the class was full to make his leave, or sometimes waiting until Hoseok started the class, or sometimes even staying for a bit at the front row before leaving. By now, his two bi-weekly classes of Contemporary Literature had become part of his routine. Staying at the back of the class where he admired the young man, as he walked around giving the class diligently; impressively capturing a large number of students who were now actively interested in it. 

Yoongi had been captured, in a different way. 

“You’re staying over this class too?” Hoseok’s voice is soft spoken, not upset but just lightly accusatory. It’s been weeks, of course he noticed Yoongi staying over every single class. And as startled as Yoongi is, he still considers himself lucky that the professor doesn’t sound annoyed. 

“I just–I really…” Think Yoongi, think of anything. “I’ve just really been trying to get into literature.” He manages to smile softly through his lie. And it seems to work, because Hoseok’s expression is widening and then grinning in excitement. 

“Who would have thought!” He beams cheerfully. “Well you’re free to come as many times as you want. Though I might have to start testing you along with the rest of my students?” Hoseok jokes, or at least Yoongi hopes he is joking. He just laughs it off and goes to his usual seat in the back, where he will be doing nothing except staring as professor Hoseok gave his class; without actually registering anything that’s being said. 

Lucky for Yoongi, the test never comes. But him and the literature professor grow closer, Hoseok starts inviting him out to have their lunch break together; since he knows for a fact Yoongi gave his class first thing in the morning and then stayed until near noon in Hoseok’s lecture. And just like had accepted defeat before, the older agrees without a second doubt.

In comparison to his typical lunches stuffed in the Sociology department with Namjoon and Seokjin, those bi-weekly 40 minutes he spends with Hoseok are… so refreshing. He remembers fearing that the literature professor would ask Yoongi what he thought of the class, but that wasn’t the case at all. 

Long forgotten were his heated debates about deeply rooted issues within humanity over lunch. Now Yoongi couldn’t wait until it was wednesday or friday, and he could just converse with Hoseok. Of course it started out like it typically would, professors talk, complaining about students, complaining about their superiors, how they got into teaching. But somehow Hoseok deemed him worthy, and just opened himself up for Yoongi. Nothing too dramatic, but the engineering professor found himself walking down the campus and being able to register what Hoseok’s favorite sitting spot was, under what specific tree; because he had told him. Or pushed himself to get weird stares by his colleagues for grabbing one donut too many because he recognized the strawberry filling ones that were Hoseok’s all time favorites and was considering dropping them off to him. 

It had been half a year, and by now, Yoongi could say he had opened up to Hoseok as well. He was more than happy to take his role as a listener to everything the younger had to say. As useless as it was, Yoongi would soak it up even when he didn’t mean to; and he had come to accept that. But, Hoseok didnt let it happen, always attentive, always considerate; asking Yoongi’s input into anything their conversation had decided to settle on. Asking for Yoongi’s favorite spots on campus, or what donuts did he reach for first when they brought some into the professors’ room. 

And Yoongi… he soaked up all that attention Hoseok gave him, too. 

It didn’t take long until they learnt the other’s schedule, sometimes using their own breaks to stop by the other’s class; just to see one another during the day. He’ll never forget the first time Hoseok came to visit as Yoongi was finishing one of his own classes, and widened at the different graphs and drawings that took over all the chalkboard. 

They were definitely friends, of course they were by now, but Yoongi couldn’t help but think that their friendship had something more special to it. Maybe it was the way the older just felt safe and soothed whenever he was talking with Hoseok, or the way Hoseok didn’t shy away from showing how much he enjoys Yoongi’s company. 

They were friends but they treated each other, just a little bit softer than the rest of their friends.

Which didn’t have to mean anything, of course. Different people have different dynamics and it just so happens Hoseok takes out the gentler side of the engineering professor. Just like it also happens to be Hoseok the one who takes out all the butterflies caged in Yoongi’s chest.

Well… maybe this different dynamic does mean something… To Yoongi at least; and he has come to accept that fact. He had reached an age where he didn’t really think he could get a crush again, yet here he is. 

Considering his feelings, he had felt a little hesitant to initiate anything with Hoseok outside their work hours; a little voice in his head telling him not to abuse the younger’s friendliness because of his own ill intentions. Hoseok made him happy as is, and he should be content with that. 

Surprisingly it’s the literature professor who, during the peak of exam season, offers to hang out and correct exams together. The little voice reminded Yoongi of his ‘ill intentions’ , but, like he keeps saying: he is simply a little weaker when it comes to Hoseok. And that first time, getting to see Hoseok outside their university, at the doorstep of his apartment which he had organized very last minute, casual clothes, beer pack in hand, gentle smile on his face. Yoongi feels himself fall in love all over again. 

Yeah… He is in love, by now he had come to accept it. 

Maybe he should be nervous, but he wasn’t, not really. How could he be when Hoseok had become his safe space? No amount of romantic feelings could change that. 

They laugh, they drink, they revise exams, they drink again, laugh some more; Yoongi finds out Hoseok is a lightweight. Third beer bottle is halfway done as the literature professor slurredly tries to write feedback onto the back of an exam.  

“You doing alright there?” Yoongi can’t help the amusement and endearment in his voice. 

All he gets is a slurred hum, and that’s all the response Yoongi needs. Still grinning as he stands up and comes back with a glass of water to Hoseok, who seems to be in some sort of trance staring at the universe. “Drink up, handsome.” He swears it was meant to sound teasing, but a blush betrays Yoongi spreading on his cheeks. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem to dwell on it, thank fuck; rather focuses on drinking his water slowly and in a way that is too endearing for Yoongi’s heart to bare. He watches as Hoseok downs the glass, trying hard not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, stop staring at his neck in general, creep, and rather rubb the younger’s back. 

He finishes the glass and he leans his head on the table groaning. 

“I think you’ve done enough grading for tonight.” He chuckles enamoured. “Think you can take a ride home?” Hoseok still has his cheek squished against the table and eyes fully closed when he nods. “Ok, Seok, up.” He instructs softly, squatting down as his hands reach for Hoseok’s middle. Surprisingly cooperative, Yoongi manages to get the younger buckled up in the passenger seat of the car looking dazedly out the window. 

It's… pleasant, Yoong thinks. The silence is always comfortable with them, and he gets to drive around the deserted city with simply the knowledge that Hoseok is by his side. He makes sure to take his liberties stealing glances at the younger, his face angelical even when confusedly staring into nothingness. 

“Here we are.” Yoongi feels the need to announce it given they’ve stopped and the drunk man hadn’t made any sign of moving… He still hasn’t. “Uhm… Hoseok?” He offers trying his best not to smile a little amused at the situation. 

It looks like it physically costs effort for him to open his lips to speak. “Can you make sure… I actually go to bed?” His eyes barely meet Yoongi’s, quickly glancing somewhere else. It could be the older’s mind playing tricks on him, but even with the white street lights Hoseok’s cheeks still manage to have a beautiful pink tint. He is blushing, and it only makes Yoongi’s smile spread wider. 

“You don’t seem like the type of drunk to cause any trouble.” He questions with a smile that already gives away his answer to Hoseok’s request. 

“No, but I’ll fall asleep halfway into my apartment.” The younger man manages to smile lazily, dainty hand settles on his shoulder. And Yoongi feels himself swallowing thickly, no person should be allowed to look this good when they’re this pathetically drunk. 

“That adds up.” He chuckles getting out of the car and turning around to open Hoseok’s door for him. “Look at that, you unbuckled your own belt. Impressive.” Yoongi teases as he takes Hoseok’s hand to help him stand. 

“I’m drunk, not 5.” His playful tone and little smile makes the idea of Hoseok being annoyed at him less convincing. He is taller than Yoongi, yet he feels so much smaller when he is tiredly leaning his weight onto the older, a protective arm wraps around the literature professor as they walk inside Hoseok’s apartment complex. 

Yoongi tries his hardest not to blush when the doorman eyes the two oddly and Hoseok mumbles a sleepy: “He’s with me.” with his head buried deep into the engineering professor’s shoulders. And keeps it there all through the elevator ride… and all  through their slow walk around the hallway… and it’s still there as Hoseok clumsily tries to type in the security code for his door. 

He doesn’t want it to go away, the weight of the younger’s head on his shoulder giving him a sense of pride that makes Yoongi want to swell his chest up. But Hoseok keeps failing to type in his code, with his nose buried into Yoongi’s neck. 

“I think you might need to look at the keyboard to actually type the code.” His hand rubs up and down Hoseok’s side, with a smile that’s too fond; though the younger can’t see from where his head is resting. 

Hoseok groans. “Can’t we just be comfy?” The older specifically loves the way Hoseok assumes this position is comfortable for the two of them. 

“Wouldn’t we be much more comfortable on your bed?” Yoongi swears he didn’t mean to say that. And he knows if the other were sober, he definitely wouldn’t brush past it. 

Drunk Hoseok, however; he hums as if thinking it through “Yeah… We would be more comfy there…” He sounds so serious about it, like he was actually considering just staying here for the rest of the night, comfortably settled against Yoongi; the older can’t help giggling. Too cute. 

“Put the code, then.” He urges, big hand squeezing at where it is settled on Hoseok’s waist. 

It���s his first time going into the literature professor’s apartment, it is very neat, even if it’s filled to the brim with books. Yoongi tries to take in as much as he can, while still helping Hoseok balance himself as he takes off his shoes and coat: the hanged pictures, the bookshelves, the toys. Hoseok owns toys: stuffed animals and figurines adorning his couch and bookshelves; Yoongi is a little stunned as they walk by. He never would have guessed. 

“Room is at the end of the hallway.” Hoseok mumbles, not only his head falling back on the older’s shoulder, but his arms wrap around Yoongi’s middle. 

Right… He has to make sure Hoseok gets to bed. 

There’s a knot at Yoongi’s stomach, but he nods; slowly walking towards the closed door. Despite seeming impossible, his room has more bookshelves, bed adorned with a few more odd looking plushies. It’s so Hoseok, the older can help his heart as it does a little flip. The younger settles on his bed, sitting down before letting his back fall. Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself; staring feels a bit inappropriate, yet he doesn’t know if leaving him in such a state is much of an option. 

“Should I…-” 

“I just sleep in underwear.” 

They both speak at the same time. Yoongi’s cheeks blush a furious red, Hoseok seems unfazed. He already managed to get the younger to bed. After all this time he had meant Yoongi had to tuck him in?!

“O–Oh, okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Then, similar to a toddler, Hoseok raises up his arms. It takes Yoongi a full second to realize; and when he does, his face gets simpossibly redder. With timid hands, he slides Hoseok’s shirt off his torso delicately. Yoongi is pretty sure he isn’t breathing, but he can’t bring himself to do so, the moment too fragile for him to possibly ruin it. The little voice in his head tells him it’s immoral to stare, but he does anyway; admiring Hoseok’s lightly tanned, slim body. 

It seems he is Yoongi only one of the two with the professor-chubs, huh. 

His blatant staring is interrupted by Hoseok popping his torso heavily onto the bed, legs extending forward in Yoongi’s direction. The older feels his heart stop completely. Yoongi is so thankful that Hoseok isn’t sitting upright so he can’t see the tremble of his hands as they hover above the button of his jeans. 

He has to hurry, otherwise Hoseok will get suspicious, and he’ll notice Yoongi making things weird. 

He feels like a teenager all over again.

He undoes the button, slowly pulling the zipper down. Yoongi’s slim fingers slide barely underneath the waistband of his jeans and start tugging down. He tries his best to be gentle, but with Hoseok’s dead weight on the bed it’s a little hard; college professors aren’t known for their strength. So he makes the younger’s body rock back and forth on the bed until he gets the pants out of the pool by his calves and finally takes it out. 

Huh, Yoongi totally would have considered Hoseok a boxer’s guy.

He somehow feels he shouldn’t say that outloud, or shouldn’t hint at paying attention to Hoseok’s underwear at all. 

Or maybe, he is just overestimating drunk Hoseok. 

“All done, you just need to wash your teeth.” He says simply instead, and the man plopped down gorans dramatically. His thighs even clench at the loudness of it, not that Yoongi was staring. 

“I need to get up?! Again?” He looks up at Yoongi with a disbelieved expression, like suddenly brushing your teeth was the most ridiculous idea anyone could propose. Yoongi has to hold back a laugh. “Why didn’t you make me go brush before I laid down!?” He sounds so insulted but his lips have the softest pout to them. 

“You plopped on the bed before I got the chance to, genius.” Yoongi finds himself rolling his eyes, all the tension that had accumulated in his body minutes before had dissipated. Even with so much of the expanse of Hoseok’s sin staring back at him, so much so quickly that Yoongi had never gotten to see; the man in front of him is still the safest place. “Come on, Seokie, up.” It feels like a dejavu from getting him out of Yoongi’s apartment. 

Hoseok’s hands are so dainty in his own, he pulls him up gently; chests bumping together softly. Soft chuckles as their noses brush, Yoongi can feel his own adoring smile. “Careful.” He mumbles, his hands squeezing into Hoseok’s. All the response he gets is a grumble, eyes barely opened as they stare directly at Yoongi, shamelessly. 

As sleepy as his gaze is, and as cute as the pout on his lips is, Yoongi can’t help it but feel somewhat intimidated, there’s something blatant about the way the younger is looking at him. And even if he can’t put a name to it, it still manages to make Yoongi shiver the slightest bit. 

He wastes no more time of Hoseok being forced to stand and rather guides him slowly towards the bathroom. Graceful Hoseok, elegant, diligent inside the classroom, that same man is looking down at his feet with a concentrated pout and frown as he takes heavy steps following Yoongi. It’s endearing enough for a giggle to slip out past his lips. 

The bathroom is only a little cramped but, it’s not like it matters; Yoongi was already holding Hoseok close to him already. Lets the younger lean against him as he has to balance his sleepy legs into picking up toothbrush and toothpaste. Yoongi allows himself to stare, even if it’s quiet and obvious he is doing so. There’s something so domestic about the sight, he can’t tear his eyes away; exposing himself through the evident adoration in his stare. 

Hoseok doesn’t pay him any attention, washing his teeth with sleepy long blinks. Only noticing Yoongi through the mirror once he is washing his lips, sleepy as he straightens back up, and when he is back to leaning against the older, he turns his head to face him. Face looking sleepy and ethereal as ever. 

And Yoongi must have gotten too caught up staring at the sleepy glimmer of Hoseok’s eyes because nothing could have prepared him for the slow, soft meeting of the younger’s lips on his. 

Hoseok kisses him like he is the most precious thing in the world; a gentle peck that makes his eyes flutter close relaxed. Not Yoongi though, his eyes are wide like plates until the younger separates. 

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to speak. “Why….Why did you do that?” Yoongi has a hard time finding his own voice, opting for a soft whisper. Part of him thinking this was all just an elaborate hallucination. 

“I didn’t want to do it with bad breath!” He whines like he was being antagonized for doing something completely normal; and not kissing your friend/coworker. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself, or with the Hoseok laying against his body, staring at him expectantly. He feels his face begin to heat up with what is most probably a deep blush. “Uhm… Well I appreciate that.” He tries to say as neutral as possible, getting his hold back on Hoseok to get him to his bed. 

The younger is pliant in Yoongi’s hold, letting himself be dragged as he tiredly lets his head fall against Yoongi’s chest. “You appreciated the kiss too though, right?” Hoseok’s voice is gentle, unsure. And it probably doesn’t help that the older one takes a second to reply; too busy trying to control the tug at his heartstrings. 

He is back to guiding the younger out of his own bathroom, only replying once he manages to set Hoseok down on the bed as gracefully as he can; only then, when worried self conscious eyes are staring up at Yoongi. 

“I do appreciate it, so much.” He mumbles gently with a gummy smile spreading his lips softly. And Hoseok looks so visibly relieved by this, it earns a chuckle from the older. Yoongi is leaning over, hand pressed to the pillow so close to Hoseok’s soft locks it could just– fuck it. 

He runs his hands through the younger’s hair, just to see the way his eyes close relaxed by it. “I’ll get going, yeah?” A little voice in his head urges him to not leave Hoseok’s side, to stay until he gets another kiss from those addictively soft lips. 

But another, more rational, voice tells him he’ll have all the time in the world to do that. 

Hoseok looks unconvinced though, it takes an endeared smile and a kiss at his temple for him to look somewhat pleased. “Fine.” Yoongi has to hold himself back from leaning to peck the pout off his lips. “Will I see you tomorrow?” 

“Text me when you wake up.” 

Yoongi can feel how different everything is from the moment he watches Hoseok walk towards him at the little campus cafe. His eyes are a little groggy stil, and a pout is still on his lips; he looks like he has a hangover, basically. 

And Yoongi is still so, so stupidly enamoured by this man. 

“Morning.” 

“How are you so upbeat? You aren’t even a morning person.” Hoseok grumbles, obviously cranky, taking a seat beside Yoongi instead of infront of him. Their shoulders touch as well as their thighs. 

“I know this may come as a surprise to you, but not all of us get drunk from a couple of beers.” Yoongi teases softly, turning to side eye him. 

“I’m not sorry.” He smiles turning to face the older. Their noses brush similarly to how they did last night. Now it should be different though, the morning fills the small cafe of busy people trying to get on with their day, not private, not imitate, not one bit romantic. They don’t need it to be, though; they managed to fall in love in the simplest of ways; through Yoongi’s obvious love for literature.

[idjitlili]

Swayze

Bard x modern!reader

summary:Imagine going out with Bard to a not very deep river with  ,when telling him about a little fantasy you have had since a child. thank you loteriel_greenleaf for helping me pick a character. xx

word count:1900?

warnings:uh muscles. a/n:sorry for not writing for like two days.

Okay ,okay ,okay so you have been in middle earth for like three years,how did you get here you ask? Yes fourth wall breaking ,can you guess who this is? Deadpool-no,okay anyways. You haven't got a fuck of an idea how you got here only that you dad pushed you into a swimming pool only for you to pass through that and fall into a freezing lake.

Your dad probably freaking out right about now,oh no wheres my daughter oh shit ,shes dead,no what she vanished ,damn I shouldn’t have called her a witch.

When you hit the lake you had lost consciousness,only to wake up a few minutes later coughing up water,laying on your side. Once you turned you eyes had went wide ,next to you a brown haired ,and eyed man sat kneels staring at you. Damn he was handsome with that long hair and mhmm face like gosh damn ,sexy. You were beyond confused ,as you looked around to only see ice and that you were on a bloody boat. "w-where is my dad?" you had spoken pretty well from just coughing up bloody water from almost bloody drowning. The man who was only dressed in a shirt no coat instead that was wrapped around your shoulders ,you were shaking so that definitely helped to be honest.

He had just looked at you confused eyebrows scrunched up ,"your dad? you fell from the sky ,I have no clue ,I want to know how in middle earth that is possible woman."

That's how your life got flipped turned upside down And you'd like to take a minute just sit right there,I'll tell you how you  become the prince of a town called dale. Well not prince maybe queen in a few years ,wink wink.  Anyways you began living with the bargeman you soon knew as Bard ,oh darn he was your will smith to fresh prince.

Anyways you would watch his kids,and in return he fed you and homed you,he even brought you gifts and  dresses.He would take you to the market ,and buy you anything you wanted ,he wasn't poor like he was when you both first met ,especially now he was king.

You had become very close to him and his children; Sigrid and Tilda would tease you saying that their father liked you ,you would tell them no you were just friends. Of course they didnt believe that ,Sigrid and Bain saw the blush upon your cheeks when their father brought you a gift ,or even compliment your hair or bread. You didnt know they would also tease their father ,telling him to get some guts and just tell you how he felt,of course he was nervous.

Dale was almost rebulit now ,you had been living with them for three years, you were starting to lose hope in Bard.

WEll were ,anyways it was like 1 pm on a sunday the kids were out at the library ,as they had homework to catch upon ,well only Tilda but she forgot so Sigrid was helping her. Whilst Bain was out with some of his friends ,doing who knows what. However you  had went  field near a swallow river ,unknownly to you Bard had followed you.You had sat on the edge of a rock bare feet in the swallow water.  You could hear the foot steps now ,making you turn abruptly grabbing a rock only to drop it ,turn your frown into a light smile when you see its Bard.

He lightly grinning,"damn,you followed me?what if i was going to an orgy?" you had teased the bowman/king dude,who scoffed at your words. "you getting it? when? " oyour mouth gapped at his words,your faced scrunched up in fake offence. "wow ,you state the obvious ,like how Bain will lose his virginity before me." okay so maybe you shouldn't have brought his son into this ,you were expecting an lecture but you got a light chuckle as he sat next to you,but didnt put his feet in the water.

"Miss y/n ,I did not know you were a virgin,for such a beautiful woman,thought you would have been courted in the time you have been with us." he had stated simply ,slightly shocked. Your heart sunk,it was clear he didn't want to court you then.  "how many times no miss just y/n/n,also who would I court Alfrid ,oh sorry he's dead, so no one." It wasn't a lie when you thought yourself as anything but beautiful ,in reality you were an angel with your looks even if you couldn't see that yourself.

"no matter what you say ,you are indeed attractive." he had looked at you will softly speaking you had just wiggled your toes in the warm water,it was a hot day,but you felt like it was going to rain later. Trying to hide the blush on your cheeks ,for a couple of minutes neither of you spoke,until you did.

"you know back in my world ,there was this movie,sorry movie is like a play but you can watch it on this box called a tv, they record the original ,its like millions of pictures - okay so its like play thats all that matters. AS a kid it was my favourite ,I would watch it over an over. It was called dirty dancing ,well yeah uh its exactly that well not really. A girl goes to this place for a holiday ,its like a camp where you can learn to dance ,anyways the many dancer gets pregnant ,but cant afford the baby so she gets doctor to get rid of it ,but he's actually a horrible doctor and she gets very hurt. This causes baby the girl who goes to this camp to take over the lead dancer role with Johnny,and he has to teach her. OOh and the dirty dancing bit well they end up doing the dirty to music ,and when I was eight I would re watch the scene over and over-" you try to explain to Bard ,when you saw the lake you thought of the lift ,but you were cut off by Bard.

"So you were 8 ? and you got arroused by a sex scene?! Who let you watch that! I cant imagine what you are going to be like when you finally-" you had gasped at his words ,shoving him playfullly. "hey,hey dont you imagine me like that ,can I get to my point?"you had questioned he had nodded ,shuffing closer to you again,your shoulders touching.

"Anyways ,there was a bit were they had to learn a lift for the dance and they practiced in a lake like this one,I have always dreamed about doing that,so yeah if you were wondering why I was out here ,I like to day dream."he had listened to your words intensely ,before stranding up pulling his jacket off. "W-what are you doing?" you had stood up carefully after him. "why dream of it ,when we can make it happen," your flashed red, you had let out a quiet "okay" as he pulled his boots ,and shirt off you tried not looking but hot damn he was hot. You would have loved if he had a dad body ,but no he was bloody muscular. Damn.

You looked away pulling your dress off swiftly, leaving you in your shorts and a corset in which you had reomoved leaving you in a vest from your home. Bard had looked away ,but why he was going to have to look at you in the water. "Come on." you had ushered grabbing his hand pulling him with you ,as you walked into the water. It was hot day but it didnt mean that water was warm ,it was bloody chilly. Soon the water was up to   Bard's hips when you had said this is far enough. You could feel the fish in the water as stood slightly away from him infront. "how does this lift go,hm?" he had asked looking at your face trying not to make you uncomfortable ,bro its not like the vest was even wet yet so it wasnt see through.

"well,uhm,you put your hands here-" you had walked forward, grabbed his rough large hands placing them on your hips where your skin was bare,from the vest was slightly cropped.  In which he had gripped them slightly. "then I put my hands here-" in which you placed your hands on his shoulders,though they only need to be there until you were off your feet."then when I slightly jump ,you lift me up and then I let go of you ,so its like I'm balancing." you had explained simply as you possibly could, he had nodded understanding in with what you had explained..

You had looked into his brown sorrow eyes,as he stared back into your e/c ones,sorta to make sure he was ready,and when it felt like you had been staring at him too long you had slightly jumpled. In response he had lifted you with ease ,you had brought your arms out to the side like you was a bird as you were held above his head. Bard had looked at you from his steady hands smiling before you had lost your balance falling down,also causing him to fall with you.  Submerging into the water just like how you had both met ,vest sticking to you and becoming see through. Bard had pulled you up so you were both standing in the water like before only super close and super soaking.

You were pushed up against his bare chest as his arms were around your waist."that happened in the movie,a couple of times before they got it." you had stated nervously looking into his big brown eyes ,his wet long hair dripping as did yours sticking to your skin."oh really? well I guess we must do it until we get it" oh how you wished to say thats what she said. Instead you had nodded at the smirking man ,who put his hands on your bare hips again.  

It only took you like seven more tries until you got it and when you did ,he had lowered you down ,wrapping your arms around his neck,whereas his were around your waist. You feet were off the river floor wrapped around him as you clung onto Bard ,grinning down at him,in which he smiled back. "thank you for that,Bard. You are the kindest man I have ever met ,first you save me from drowning in a strange world,then you home me and feed me ,then you make me fall in love with me ,in which I agree is the only bad thing becau-" before you could even panic in regret of your confession he had pressed his lips to yours.

"i love you too ,y/n/n" he had spoken quietly when you had broken the kiss,only for it to start pooring down with rain ,in which you had jumped from bard rushing out of the water ,him following getting dressed,to rush home to your children.

You were brought to middle earth to meet your patrick swayze,though you were so over the moon when you met that cutie hobbit dildo gaggins.