#fly high queen miss u every day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

��Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

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First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other��‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

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quokkacore · 4 years ago

Text

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM]

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM]

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.

[7:57 AM]

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.

A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.”

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.”

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.

Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”

The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect.”

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?”

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal."

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen

#kwritersworldnet #nct angst #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #lee jeno x reader #my writing

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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first of all can i just say congrats on the 500 like i'm so happy for you and you absolutely deserve it (huge bear hug :) ) now i had this crazy hcs idea and i immediately thought of you so long story short how would Karasuno , Aoba Johsai and Nekoma react to their sweet manager having powers similar to those of scarlet witch (marvel) or mirajane strauss (fairytail anime) feel free to pick whichever one is easier and thank you so much for indulging my crazy request. love u lots - safiyah <3333

oh my goodness thank you sm for your words here’s a bear hug <3 also also i was literally just thinking just how cool it would be to have like a supernatural au haikyuu thing and then you send me this wow we on some mind reading shit. anyways i really hope you like this. sorry it’s like hq on crack if you want a serious one lemme know hsjkhsk

karasuno high

they lose their shit.

every single one of them.

mentally they’re all like 12 (except daichi and mqybe ennoshita) so i definitely think they’d have a very childish reaction to it.

it’s so endearing though.

they find out while walking you home one night: it’s very stormy and they just wanted to make sure you get home safe because they worship the ground you walk on. cue like a fucking billboard nearly falling on you and the group of boys and your instincts just kick in and you stop it mid air.

noya’s still screaming even after everyone’s just gone silent and is gawking at the fact a billboard (or whatever the object is i can’t think rip) is hovering above them. in mid air. because of you. what the fuck?

daichi’s blood pressure drops he’s like somebody catch me im about to faint wtf is going on.

you kinda freak and just toss it away and run your way back home, as far away from the boys as possible.

but alas, you’re their manager, and you have duties to fulfill. so you show up to practice the next morning terrified for your life.

you’re not really sure why you’re so scared and nervous. you just are? it’s a huge part of who you are and it’d be a big bummer if the most important boys in your life didn’t accept it.

noya greets you with a really big hug

tanaka’s so loud but what’s new <3

daichi and suga just come up to you and gently ask if you’re okay because you ran off so quick yesterday

they all act super normal during practice but you can tell

you can tell

they want to ask so many questions they’re gonna explode

after practice, when coach ukai and takeda leave, and it’s just you, kiyoko, and the boys, it’s s o quiet. you would hear a pin drop.

you just sigh and go “you can ask”

your poor eardrums </3

they’re so fascinated by everything you say

kiyoko’s like “i had a hunch” like how do u have a hunch about something like this anyways what a queen

noya’s like “make me fly”

and tsukki in the back “drop him on his ass pls”

they definitely make you do so many things for them with it

cleaning duty is now on you because hello !! you can move things with your mind !!

kags doesn’t get it. he’s like. ok? and ? i can set volleyballs perfectly, hinata can jump really high despite his height, she can move things with her mind? so what?

i love him

they’re also crazy good at keeping it a secret?

not hinata tho he slips up so often like thank god the secret isn’t realistic or believable

he’ll be like “oh yeah? well our manager can move things with her mind!”

and suga just has to usher him away with a pained smile like “yeah she’s so incredible haha” while doing that thing moms do where they squeeze or pinch your shoulder if they’re mad at you in public

it feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders when they find out because the closer you grew to these boys, the more they felt like family to you.

aoba johsai

my favorite team

i hc makki as someone that smokes weed. pls don’t try to convince me otherwise. look at him. he’s a pothead <3

this is going somewhere i swear.

so you’re a 3rd year manager, meaning you’ve been with these boys a while now, specifically the third years of the team, so y’all are pretty close.

how they find out: it’s like 3am on a weekend, the seijoh 4 and some of the second years. you’d baked a cake with like all of them all at once in the kitchen, so it was now a mess, so you’re attempting to clean it up as fast as you can the way you know best — with your hands and your mind. makki walks in, high as shit, sees this and just.

“damn must be the weed.”

you don’t hear him. so. uh oh.

he was probably sent there by iwa to get water or something, so iwaizumi walks in and just yells so loud “what the fuck!”

it’s like they’re all summoned by this. they eventually all pile into the kitchen and you’re literally just frozen in fear with pots and pans and utensils and specks of flour hovering by you. and then you maintain eye contact with iwa as you lift one hand and direct the pans into a cupboard and slowly shut it.

“so it’s not the weed?”

they honestly. don’t act any different tbh

it’s like an added feature of yours that they appreciate.

oikawa asks you to read his mind to test if what happened that night was real and you just lift him up from off his seat.

“i asked you to read my mind tho hm”

yeah mind reading is just a regular thing now. they will slyly ask you to read the other team’s minds during a match and you’re like no that’s cheating. but you do. and you subtlety give them advice. like “hm i wonder if that team’s gonna do this specific attack”

also oikawa asks (read:begs) u to like help them make it through to nationals

you say “will it feel like a true accomplishment if i do?”

shuts his pretty face up <3

they also make you like. toss volleyballs to them. but with your mind. multiple of them. they take it as some stupid challenge idk these boys are dumb i love them

they also love throwing things at. YOU. LIKE WTF?

like haha dodgeball but it’s a group of 6’0+ athletes against just. you.

sounds fair

they also become insanely protective of you after they find out. idk how that clicks w them but. yes.

especially mattsun and iwa ? like men. relax.

anyways they would abuse the shit out of your powers genuinely but it’s okay it’s out of love <3

nekoma high

they. they’re idiots. all of them.

kuroo would probably be like but scientifically ! this makes zero sense

omg kenma would lose his MIND.

HES A GAMER BRUH

HED BE OBSESSED W YOU.

but lowkey bc none of that simp shit </3

ooou okay so you’re at a training camp and they sneak you in with them so you guys can play truth or dare

bc yk. you’re kids.

and y’all are going around and you just pick truth and someone asks what’s the biggest secret you’ve ever kept from us and they expect some dirty shit they’re nasty smh

and then you straight up go “i can move things w my mind”

and theyre like ok miss stop playin fr

keep in mind it’s dark as hell in the dormitory and eerily quiet and you shift one of the chairs in there, and it squeaks loudly

yamamoto jumps and looks at you w so much fear in his eyes. “that wasn’t you”

“bet?”

and then suddenly all chairs are moving all at once and yamamato deadass screams

kuroo’s shrugging like. “it’s just the wind,” like ur not in a closed off room w all the windows shut whatever u say sir <3

lev’s like

gone into shock. seriously someone go get him water or something.

when morning comes they’re all like hella scared to approach you except kenma and kuroo bc kenma— is in awe. kuroo — does not believe it.

you’re kinda :( that they’re scared of you and you approach them after the day is over and just apologize, and tell them you didn’t mean to scare them and that you’d never hurt them or even consider it.

they do a 180 bruh they just all go “awwwwww” and suffocate you in a group hug so you shove them all off for good measure lmao

kuroo still doesn’t believe it until you save his ass in broad daylight and he’s like ok maybe it wasn’t fake so what sue me

whenever there are training camps where other schools come they beg u to help them prank the boys

especially bokuto and hinata

and you do obviously

it’s hilarious watching them scream as something moves slightly. you never do it that it’s suspicious just enough to be like did that happen or is my mind messing w me rn

scarlet witch also has the ability to mess w people’s mind in the literal sense and whenever one of the boys pisses you off particularly you just make them see their biggest fear

kenma asks you to reenact some of his favorite gameplays for him

it’s literally just roleplay and you couldn’t care less someone catches the two of you you’re no pussy you can admit when you’re having fun

overall a very chaotic reaction

they don’t treat you any different they’re just like 100x more hyped about who you are. like the fact that you’re their manager is already a blessing and now this !!!

incredible <3333

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #karasuno x reader #aoba johsai x reader #nekoma x reader #haikyuu au

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ginazmemeoir · 3 years ago

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for @gopikanyari - i couldn't draw them but i did write this fic.

tagging @taareginn @momo-all-the-way @dragonfairy1231 @aadyeah @weird-u @holding-infinity-and-a-book @aloomu @carmen-riddle @mango-pickle

Everything slows down. All I feel is my breath, the sweat trickling down my face, and the tension in my hand dissipating as I release the knife and let it fly. It strikes the dummy with a ‘thwack’, and I keep staring at it. Miss. Again.

My father didn’t consider educating his youngest child, a girl, in the art of warfare. So after getting married to five men, all brothers, in a strange twist of fate, having near death experiences in the forest and at my husbands’ home in Hastinapur, I decided to instruct myself. Swords made me feel confident, bows and arrows made me feel like a hero in an epic, but knives? They made me feel like a toddler playing pretend. And yet, Drona, my husbands’ mentor and father’s sworn enemy, insisted on teaching me in “the art of the blade”.

I lean against the wall, wiping the sweat off using a cloth, and head for a bath. As I exit, my maid Malti approaches me, her face writ with worry. “Um… uh… Your Majesty…” she stutters. I place my hand on her shoulder and calm her down, “What happened Malti? Something in your family?” I ask. Instead, Malti hands me a card. I take it from her, beaming at the seal – a dolphin encircled by a peacock feather – Krishna’s emblem. I greedily tear the elaborate wrapping, desperate for the kind of raucous and “unladylike” interaction that I only got with Krishna. My eyes skim over the letter’s contents, and my heart sinks. “Impossible,” I mutter, clutching the letter in my hand, “my husbands promised me complete fidelity. They cannot remarry again.” Malti, her voice trembling, then uttered the words which my feeble brain couldn’t read, “Your Highness, the invite was delivered by a member of the Dwaraka council. Prince Arjuna is getting married to Subhadra, Lord Govinda’s sister.”

The streets of Hastinapur are jubilant with celebrations, as their prince returns with his new bride. All over the city, repairs were done, and frivolous, expensive structures were erected, all in an effort to show the audacious wealth of the Kuru empire. The cheerful, flower and gold bedecked exterior hid the internal deformities. Suyodhana’s maternal uncle, Shakuni, or as everybody called him in the land – the snake – fumed at what had transpired (from what I gathered Suyodhana was to be wed to Subhadra, who had eloped with my husband); King Dhritarashtra boiled in silent anger, while Queen Gandhari taunted and cried out her distress every now and then.

Arjuna arrived on the gates of the palace, his new bride at his side, followed by my other husbands (his brothers) and Krishna. Both bride and groom were bedecked in the finest of clothes and jewels, looking like overstuffed dummies. Even from here in my balcony, I could clearly see the bride’s discomfort in wearing the heavy jewellery and silks preferred by the Hastinapur royalty even in the scorching summer. All the ceremonies and rituals were performed with due tradition, thus amounting to an hour or two, and then only did the entourage enter the palace. I hurry down to meet the party, when I see the newlyweds walking towards me. Anger floods every pore of my body. Had I had my way, I would have scorched the palace with the same fire from which I was born. What kind of man is this cruel, taking his second wife to meet his first? Disgusted I slam the door on their stricken faces, and bury myself in my misery. Was I never destined to be happy?

The years pass by, and an unlikely bond forms between Subhadra and I – the kind of bond shared by mothers. It took six pregnancies to break the barrier between us, and she had approached first. That would always be a guilt I would carry – that I hadn’t extended my hand earlier, blinded by pride and anger. Soon, awkwardness gives place to an unlikely friendship, with her teaching me the various wonders of the world she had seen on her various trips; Greece, China, the Golden Isand of Lanka, she had seen it all. Meanwhile I taught her how to wield a sword , and helped her navigate the tricky waters of politics and party throwing. It was a rare, pure friendship – one spent wearing a cotton sari under a scorching sun, eating mangoes with sticky hands and giggling, one I had never experienced before.

I walk towards my palace. Or, not my palace, since Duryodhana owns it now. Nothing is left, not even my pride and dignity. My dishevelled appearance, torn sari, entangled hair and bruises make for a frightening appearance apparently, stunning everybody into silence. I don’t feel human anymore, just a husk slowly inching its way before it collapses, for my soul was stripped along with my clothes in that den of gamblers and cowards. I seethe with a burning hatred against my husbands, pretentious motherfuckers cowering behind their false dharma and “code of chivalry”, which conveniently vanished when they took multiple wives and yet made me marry all five of them against my will. I want to rage and burn and destroy and drink the blood of Dushasana and use Duryodhana’s skull as the cup. I thought my city, this magnificent city of Indraprastha, loved me the same way I loved it. And yet, in my darkest hours, none came to stop what followed, except perhaps Vikarna, a brother of the man whom I didn’t consider human. Subhadra was in the guava orchards with Abhimanyu, when she saw me. She quickly put him down, and rushed towards me, trying to cover me with a scarf, as if I cared anymore. She took me inside, and drew a bath for me. That day, I scrubbed my skin raw till it turned red and almost tore my hair from my scalp, trying to rid myself of Dushasana’s filthy touch. She then gives me some khus, which I drink gingerly, my tears mixing with the sweet green concoction. At first, she looks stricken, unable to believe what had transpired. Disbelief gave way to pity, which gave way to anger. “It’s useless Subhadra. Nothing is left. And I will make sure, that nothing will be.” I console her. I see the fear in her eyes then. Good. People had forgotten who I was, but I’d make sure I’d remind them in the years to follow. They blamed me for what had happened right, that I was too weak or too proud? Well then I’d like to prove them right. I am Draupadi. Paanchali. Yajnaseni. Born from fire, born to wreak havoc, born to change the fate of this cursed land of Jambudweep, where the roll of a dice values more than a person.

The 13 years that follow are spent in agony. Twelve years of wandering in the forest, facing arrogant saints and malevolent creatures. I keep wondering of Subhadra and my kids. When she had heard the news, she had slapped an unsuspecting Arjuna, and taken Abhimanyu and my kids with her to Dwarka, safe and secure, forbidding him to show her his face until he proved himself worthy. Arjuna soon parted ways with us in the forest, going off on some adventure, finding new beauties to marry and accumulating more powers for the war to follow. I meet Hidimba in the forest as well, Bhima’s first wife. I envy her freedom and her life. And then comes the dreaded year of agyaatvasa – living in the shadows, for fear of recognition. Yudhishthira becomes advisor to King Virata of Matsya, Bhima a cook, Nakula the master of stables, Sahadev a shepherd and I, the mighty Draupadi? A hairdresser. How cruel life was, making the woman who kept her hair unkempt and open as a reminder of her revenge, a hairdresser to a queen. Arjuna also returned, but as the eunuch dancer Brihannala. Even here, peace eluded me as the queen’s brother Keechaka turned his perverted gaze towards me. But this time, I had enough. And so I invite him to a secluded spot and then have his skull crushed by Bhima.

It’s the time of war. Vultures and hyenas gather in the fields of Kurukshetra in anticipation of the feast to follow. I reside in the camp with the other ladies and children of the house. I am unable to recognize my own kids at first, how quickly they’ve grown and how much they have changed. They greet me with the same love and respect, but something has changed fundamentally in our relationship, a cherished bond that would never be the same. Subhadra is there by my side, making me live their childhood through their mischievous stories and their life at Dwarka, and yet my mind wanders to our six sons – wearing their armour and lifting their weapons, barely on the cusp of manhood and yet already thrust into a war that isn’t their own. I stopped believing in gods long since, and yet I pray to any that might exist with a shred of mercy in their heart towards me – let my children live.

Abhimanyu’s mutilated corpse greets us on the thirteenth day of war. His body looked so gruesome, even Yamraj would have shuddered. Subhadra’s wails pierce through the sky, reverberating more than the clang of metal and steel. She reaches for Abhimanyu’s body, hugging him close, with his head on her lap, embracing her son for a final time before the fires engulfed him. I am too shocked, and Subhadra too bereaved, to either comfort or be comforted. There is no sermon, no balm, no magic for this loss. His loss permeates into every single cell of our being, and stays there. Subhadra cries the entire night, her eyes red from crying, consuming neither food nor water. I stay by her side all along. The other ladies comfort his wife Uttara, in the final month of her pregnancy, devastated by the destruction of her own small world before it could begin. Finally, when dawn breaks, and her body is devoid of tears, does Subhadra arise, but she’s not the same. She goes with the Pandavas to cremate her only child, and returns back. She utters not a single word, conveys not a single emotion. She doesn’t rage like fire – she is instead like the oceans near her home. A turbulent storm rages within, which the calm face doesn’t give away.

I come back to my tent having exacted my revenge. The sound of Dushasana’s arms being ripped off, his skull cracking open echo in my ears. My hair drip with his blood, my face smeared with sweat. I thought I would feel victorious, at peace now that I had avenged myself, avenged Abhimanyu’s death. But then Subhadra gazes at me, and a single gaze is enough to communicate everything in my heart. Is this who I am now? What more atrocities would be committed in this war?

The war has come at an end, as Duryodhana lies dying in agony, his thighs shattered. I go with everybody to cremate the fallen and pay my respects to Grandsire Bhishma, as he too draws his last breath upon his bed of arrows and leaves this world. All the bodies are collected in a massive mountain of rotting half eaten flesh, and cremated. The fire blazes high, an inferno reaching for the skies, taking the souls of everybody within it towards Indra’s court, which receives anybody who dies fighting. The flame reminds me of my own birth, which seems like a lifetime away. I return back to camp, weary from all the death that surrounded me, and am instead greeted by a fresh nightmare. My brother Dhrishtadyumna’s head hangs at the gate, his decapitated body beneath him, hands closed around his sword even in death. I rush in to find everybody dead – physicians, maids, cooks, attendants, charioteers, guards, everybody. I enter my sons’ tent, fearing the worst and that is when I see their corpses. They were still in bed. Sleeping. They were supposed to ride out tomorrow to Indraprastha, their true home. They were supposed to grow up and live their life far away from court or war. They were planning to finally visit the fabled Palace of Illusions, swimming in the Mirror Lake, plucking fresh fruits from the orchards. Sutasoma intended to devour all the books he could lay his hands on. Prativindhya wanted to try wine. Srutakarma wanted to learn pottery and sculpting. Shatanika wanted to try make up, while Shrutasena wanted to learn music and painting. My children were robbed of their lives and their futures in their sleep. Now I truly knew the meaning of loss. I would rather die a thousand times over just so I could bring them back. I collapse, the last thing I hear is Subhadra shouting my name. I don’t feel the ground as I fall.

It is in this hell on earth does Subhadra’s daughter in law Uttara give birth. She screams in pain as she tries to push her child out of her womb, the last child of a massacred dynasty, when the room suddenly fills with a scorching white light. It disappears as suddenly as it arrived, and everybody immediately figures out what happened. The Brahmastra, the strongest weapon in the universe. Aimed directly at Uttara’s womb and her unborn child. It is an unspeakable crime. The death of his grandnephew makes Krishna goes insane, and for the first time in my life, I see him become the angel of death. He picks up the babe, and proclaims, “If I have been a truly righteous human, let this child come to life.” The child, a boy, gasps and cries, strong and powerful. I have stopped believing in miracles, but this is one I admit. Subhadra reached for her grandson, and cradles him in her arms. Her tears drop on his forehead, as she smiles at him. As she hands the baby to me, there’s an understanding in our eyes. An agreement. A promise. Never shall this child know suffering. Never shall this child know pain. He will have what we could not. He will have a childhood, a future, a life.

We make this oath to ourselves. Sisters, united by pain, suffering and hope.

#draupadi #subhadra #paanchali #panchali #mahabharat #mahabharata #india #hindu mythology #mythology #story time #vasu

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yolkyeomie · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Hearts | Lee Juyeon

summary — trembling hands? flushed face? nervous stuttering? this wasn’t like you, you’ve never reacted like this to anyone before. so why is it that when you were with him you acted this way?

word count — 17.2k words

pairing — juyeon x female!reader (w/ mentions of chanhee, sunwoo, younghoon, and hyunjae)

genre — princess!reader, knight!juyeon, fluff with a hint of angst if you really squint, slowburn-ish, strangers to lovers-ish

disclaimer — mentions of minor violence and sword fighting !! I spent three days writing this through a hyper fixation and I REFUSE to get this beta read, so if u see any errors pretend like you didn’t see it at all 👁 this is also really self indulgent and I’ve never even written for tbz I’m so so sorry if this is extremely inaccurate

You were a little upset with yourself, you weren’t going to lie. For the past few months you had found yourself curiously leaning over your balcony railing, trying your best to catch a quick glance of all the knights in training that were just a few feet below. Eagerly you watched as they honed their skills, determination fueling their bones as they swung, slashed, and clanged their dull and worn out swords against each other in a mock battle.

They fought with all their might to become the next knights of your kingdom’s army or the next royal guards that would patrol the palace with the king and his family. Though, you knew that your mere presence made them strive for their goal even harder than before. Who wouldn’t want to demonstrate their rising abilities in front of the princess of their nation?

Your prying eyes made them itch with anticipation and wonder. Will they get a chance to greet you if they flaunted hard enough? To take your dainty hands in theirs, rough with hard work and tenacity, and place a gentle kiss atop your skin?

You weren’t interested in them, per se. In fact you had never been very interested in the upcoming knights that trained in the barracks below you. Since you were a child, the tiara and gown lifestyle wasn’t really for you, longing to hold the hilt of a long sword within your hands and slash your opponent in one clean swing. You wanted to fight, you wanted to run, you wanted to get rough and dirty with the knights that were sworn to protect your kingdom. It had been your biggest dream and fascination to even sit in on one singular match between the generals and their young and hopeful squires.

However, the amount of times you’ve been scolded for your unattainable dreams was too many to count on one finger. How unprecedented of you to even think such a thought! Young ladies are to never step foot on the battlefield, dirtier their long gowns or scraping their soft skins, that’s what you’ve been told. The swords are for the young men who fight for their country and the women who stay home and wait for them. A sword was to never be picked up by a lady, especially the princess.

But it was so boring! Why must you have to sit and smile like a porcelain doll too expensive to be rough housed with? You could never understand how your mother, how past queens and princesses, could handle such a repetitive job. Smile for the allies, smile for your king, smile for your people, and most importantly, produce an heir that will make the kingdom thrive. That was nothing you wanted to do!

Yet you were the only child of your nation’s queen and king, so that’s what was expected of you. You had no brother to hide behind and force to take the throne. You had no sister you could hide behind and force to smile and wave. You had to do it without any questions and without any backlash.

You’d think they’d at least let you learn to defend yourself since you were the only heir to the throne? Sure you will have royal guards protecting you for a majority of your life but it wasn’t bad to be a little precautious just in case a happy incident occurred.

Just thinking about the mistreatment made you frown, slumping over the balcony railing with a huff and using your hand to prop up your head in annoyance. Not even watching the knights-to-be scramble to display their tiny growing muscles or aimlessly swinging their blades around could make you feel any better.

And then you heard it, a deep and loud horn echoing across from the barracks all the way to the balcony you stood on. It caught your attention almost immediately, standing up straight and leaning over the railing to see what was going on. Unfortunately you hear what they must be saying from the height you were at, but the slow opening of the barrack gates was enough to clue you in on what was happening next.

“Oh, I’m just in time!” A voice chirped behind you, your skin jumping off its bones at their sudden appearance. You turn your head innocently to catch the sight of a fellow member of royalty slinking you to your side, his tiny physique making his footsteps light and silent as he stepped across the marble flooring of the balcony.

“Why, if it isn’t his Royal Highness, Prince Choi Chanhee of Fantasia!” You teased, watching as he rolled his eyes at his formal title. Only recently had the boy been pronounced the next king of his nation and he still wasn't used to the new form of address he had been given. You took this as an opportunity to poke fun at him, knowing all of the times he’s done the exact same to you. “What do I owe the pleasure of seeing his Royal Highness today?”

“You are so annoying,” Chanhee snided, earning a knowing smile from you as he leaned over the balcony railing just as you did before. “My father has come to discuss some important matters with your family, something involving the trading between the two kingdoms. I was forced to tag along being the next heir and I came to give you a bit of company, but it seems as though you’re already a little preoccupied.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his last words, knowing he was trying to jab right back at you for watching the squires of your kingdom. “Very funny, Chanhee, but I’m not here to watch the scrawny pretty boy’s fight for a simple smile from me.”

“You find enjoyment in their pinning though, I know you do,” He noted, not taking his eyes off the barrack gates. They were completely open now, leading out into the field that was right front of the balcony the two of you were standing on. “You would never give a singular one of these men a chance because the little she-devil inside of you likes toying with their hearts.”

“You describe me so coldly, it hurts,” you laugh, watching a smile etch on the prince’s face at your words. You enjoyed your little banter like this, fighting back and forth like a pair of siblings rather than potential suitors. And let it be known that everyone in the palace wanted Chanhee to be the one who would finally court you, but he didn’t seem too interested in the idea either.

Once again a horn was blown to catch the attention of the people, it’s deep sound resonated across the field and the two of you turned your gazes towards the barracks once more. This is what Chanhee was looking forward to, the weekly evaluation that the knights-to-be of your kingdom endured four days every month. To be honest, you looked forward to it as well, as it usually was used as a way to not only assess the squires but show off the power of the kingdom’s next knights and royal guards.

After a few moments two horses shot out of the barrack gates, galloping across the open field at such intense speeds that if you blinked you would have missed them.

“This week is archery!” Chanhee exclaimed, clapping his hands together in glee as he pointed out the worn red targets that were placed about the field.

You narrowed your eyes as you finally settled your eyes upon one individual, Chanhee’s gaze following the other rider as they rode in the wind. The boy you were watching was riding upon a black stead, the steeds jet black coat nearly matching his slate colored hair. The only reason you could see the boy upon the black horse was because of his contrasting blue tunic and the evergreen colored grass underneath them.

As the two approached the first target, the boy began to rise off of the saddle straightening his back as lifting up a bow and arrow held in his hands. He focused in on the target in front of him, quickly snatching an arrow out of the quiver strapped around his back and nocking his bow. Both you and Chanhee watched in silence as the boys drawed back on their bowstrings, aiming carefully for the bullseye with unheard precision.

Thwish! Chanhee’s boy was the first to release his arrow, the object flying through the air and sinking deep into the plywood of the target. The boy let out a cheer as his chestnut steed began to pick up the page, charging straight for the other two targets that were left to clear. Only a few seconds after the first the boy you were watching released his arrow, stabbing into the target just as, if not harder, into the target than the first.

There was no cheering coming from him, no gesture of victory, not even a hint of an eager smile. He only grabbed onto the reins of his horse and commanded it to continue forth.

After the first moment of hesitation, he was no longer the one waiting for his fellow knight-to-be to make the first move. He surpassed the other boy in a matter of seconds, shooting his arrows deep into the plywood targets in a heartbeat.

“That’s incredible,” Chanhee couldn’t help but comment, reaching out for your arm as he stared down at the field in pure amusement. “Did you catch that Y/N? Each one of those shots, straight into the bullseye? And on the back of horse running at full speed? He’s inhuman, there’s no other way.”

“What can I say?” You bragged, a smile donning in your face as the boy’s horse began to slow into a casual trot. Only then did the remnants of a grin don his face, basking in his easily gained victory. “My kingdom’s soldiers are the best in the region? There is a reason everyone wants to be our allies and not our enemies? The boys from the village could crush yours in a fell swoop.”

The current squires weren’t everything to brag about now, but once they finished training? Ascending to the ranks of knights and royal guards? They were unstoppable, worthy of not only your praise, but the kingdom’s as well.

“That’s so unfair,” Chanhee pouted, stepping away from the balcony to throw a small fit. It was nothing too serious, just blowing off some steam from being the lesser royal member in the room. “You should really send some of your knights to Fantasia once you become queen. We could really use the unstoppable knights of your kingdom to better protect our own.”

You snort at his words, glancing down towards the open field where the targets laid. “Not a chance, your Royal Highness,” you tell him, your eyes glued to the slate colored hair of the squire below you. In a heartbeat he turned his head to the balcony, turning to the side like a dog as his gaze met yours. “Not a chance.”

II.

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn,” you say, your brain barely keeping up with the words that were spilling out of your mouth. “But what? You’re doing what?”

Your father couldn’t help but smile at your confusion, leading you down the busy hallway of the barracks. Any knight or general that would walk the same path as the two of you would gasp and bow before you, letting the king and his daughter pass them before even daring to continue on their way. Squires young and old would all gawk and stare from the windows and doorways of their rooms, their gazes never leaving their sovereign’s side until they were out of view.

You were in the barracks. For the first time in your life you were walking the corridors of the knight’s barracks, their training grounds, side by side with your father’s permission. Sure, you were still dressed in the long feet covering dress and shiny silver crown you had inherited so it meant you were not going to do any sort of fighting while you were here, but they didn’t matter to you. This was a big step for you to be taking in first place! Just walking within the barracks was a simple dream come true.

“Progress has been made,” your father’s royal adviser spoke first, explaining the situation to you as simply as he could. “The general in charge of training the newest squires from around the nation had reported that he believed that some of them were ready to ascend the ranks. So your father is here to judge and give the final verdict personally.”

“You saw the evaluation a week ago, didn’t you?” Your father suddenly asked you.

Your brain was doing marathons around the room as they spoke to you, trying your best to keep up with the conversation. Though the mentioning of the weekly evaluation snapped you back into reality, remembering the talented boy that rode across the field on the black stallion and easily demolished his competition. “Of course,” you responded, a little too fast for your liking. Quickly you added on, “who doesn’t remember the evaluation? Prince Chanhee was so impressed by the skills of our knights-to-be that he begged me to send some to his kingdom.”

“I know,” your father sneering, reminiscing over a memory you hadn’t witnessed. “These boys, the ones I’m going to evaluate, are around your age. I thought it was useful for you to see them personally, as there is a very strong potential that you’ll be growing as the next queen alongside them.”

“So…,” you mumble, stopping with your father in front of the door archway led to the courtyard where most of the knights-to-be were being held. “No training with the knights?”

Your father shot you a glance before laughing to himself, allowing his royal advisor to pass by him and walk out first into the courtyard. “No training with the knights.”

“May I present to you, his Majesty the King and Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N!”

Both you and your father stepped out into the courtyard, everyone in the vicinity of the two of you bowing in respect. Your father spoke a few words to the general in charge, an exchange of words you didn’t quite catch. You were too distracted by your surroundings to focus on what was being spoken to you.

The ground around the archways was paved in cement, creating a small pathway to be walked on around the courtyard. Yet in the middle courtyard was completely dirt, grass only making an appearance in spotty areas from being traversed on so many times. The dirt stained the hem of your dress with a brown tint, having it been raining a few nights before and the ground hadn’t completely soaked up all of the water that had been doused upon it.

But you didn’t mind, why would you care about your dress when you were finally in the barracks! Your eyes were glued to the more important things, like the targets that were hung up against the walls with arrows puncturing the wood or the many dull swords and swords that were littered across the ground forgotten with the king and your arrival.

You must look like an idiot as you looked around the barracks like it was the most exquisite place of the century. To them squires, it was just another building that barely had anything to give. But to you? This was heaven on Earth, the garden of Eden in a cold and unforgiving world.

“General, please, no need to flatter,” your father’s voice spoke, finally snapping you out of your daydream-like state. When you looked up towards him, he was laughing and smiling with the man over all of the knights-to-be, turning towards the younger boys with an expectant glint in his eyes. “I am here to see the potential we’ve gathered within our ranks.”

“Of course, your Majesty!” He replied in an instant, turning towards the young men as urging a few of them to stand in front of him. It was only three of the boys close to your age that stood before you and king. “These are our finest boys to date, great fighters they’ve proven themselves to be, and hopefully even greater knights as well. Kim Sunwoo, Kim Younghoon, and our prized apprentice,”

It was him, the boy who has easily shot three arrows into a target’s bullseye on horseback. “Lee Juyeon.” You had never seen the boy up close before, you had never seen any of the knights-to-be up close before yet somehow, he made you falter. Your breath stopped upon finally laying eyes on him, unknowingly eying him as you tried to regain control of your brain. You weren’t used to this, being the person who was struggling to compose themselves, it was usually the other way around.

Most knights and knights-to-be were all talk and no bite, carefully trying to court you with sweet words and no skills to back up their courageous attitudes. Not even a single bat of an eyelash could make you want to give them the time of day. Yet Juyeon simply stood there, his head held high with well earned confidence and naturally captivating looks. He knew he was better off than most of the boys that had been spent off to become knights for the king, he must know!

Why else would he drop his gaze from his father to you, unspoken words passing between the two of you before he turned back towards your father. He knew you, he recognized you, and he was simply going to continue about his day. It killed you to know that you had been caught lacking, bewitched by his skills and appearance after being known as the princess who plays with knights for so long.

Was anyone watching you? Of course they were watching you, you were the princess and were standing right next to the king! Everyone must have seen you gawking at the boy before you and who could tell what was racing through their minds now?

“You're the boy from the weekly evaluation last week, aren’t you?” Your father questioned, addressing Juyeon first. You glanced between the two men for a moment, racking your brain around so you could follow along with the conversation. “Mounted archery, black horse?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” he responded politely, his voice making your hands twitch with a sudden spark. Immediately you put your hands behind your back, fumbling and fidgeting with your fingers nervously. How did he do that? The boy said three words and now your body was beginning to lose control!

You pinched the inside of your palm, cursing at yourself for allowing yourself to act in such a way. What was wrong with this? This wasn’t supposed to happen, you weren’t supposed to be reacting this way to a person you had just met!

Your father gasped in response to Juyeon’s answer, not even noticing your change in demeanor. “They don’t call you the finest for no reason then. Truly, your one of the most talented people I’ve seen come into our barracks in years. How long have you been with us, Juyeon? It must have been a year or so, hasn’t it?”

“You flatter me, your Majesty,” he smiled, his ears burning at the compliments given by the sovereign. “It’s only been two months.”

“Two months?” Both you and father exclaimed, sharing nearly identical expressions of shock. You cover your mouth with your hands, not meaning to speak out of turn. Your father cleared his throat not long after, trying to shake off the minor embarrassment from reacting in such a way.

Juyeon didn’t seem to mind though, his smile growing from ear to ear as he glanced over towards you once again. Your eyes followed his as he leaned down just slightly before speaking to you. “Are you okay, your highness?” He questioned, his own hands twitching from their place at his sides.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you quickly reply to him, cutting the conversation short between the two of you almost immediately. Was your face red? You hoped it wasn’t red, that would have been embarrassing.

The entire courtyard’s breath stopped as they started at the two of you. Juyeon, the finest upcoming knight, and you, the princess of the kingdom, spoke to each other. Out of turn and slightly more casual than expected, none of the knights and squires had ever gotten close enough to even get a decent response from you. Yet Juyeon had not only gotten a reaction out of you, but a flustered response as well!

“Juyeon,” your father called, snapping the boy’s attention from you to the king. Thank the heavens he stopped looking at you, you didn’t know how much longer it was going to be until you melted on the spot. You hated it, the sudden and newfound emotions the squire was putting you through. Your head was going to explode if you shared one more conversation with him, and that was barely a conversation to begin with. “How good are you with a sword?”

“Excellent, your Majesty,” the general cut in, giving the boy a stern pat on the back. Juyeon didn’t move from the position he was standing in, but it definitely looked as though he felt the brunt of the general’s hit. “He probably rivals those of the recruits from last year, already on their level or higher.”

“Perfect,” the king smiled, glancing around the courtyard for a moment. Before turning back towards the general and Juyeon. “Then shall we have a mock battle? If you don’t mind, I’d like to see your skills in action.”

“Of course,” Juyeon responded, “I can do anything for you, your Majesty.”

III.

“What the hell was that?!” Sunwoo yelled, punching Juyeon in the shoulder as hard as he possibly could. The boy winced as a result, numb from the mock battle he had participated in just a few minutes earlier. Though he didn’t retaliate like he should have, slumping into the bed that was provided for all the knights within the barracks. He was exhausted, having to exert a lot more energy than he was used to in order to impress the king as best as he could.

Had he known the king and the princess were visiting the barracks today, he wouldn’t have stayed up the night before.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Juyeon responded, his voice muffled against the worm pillow he laid his head on.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” the boy insisted, twirling the dull longsword in his hands by the hilt. He stopped as he pointed the tip at Juyeon’s back, threateningly hovering the blade over him. “You? And the princess? Flirting not only in front of our faces, but the king’s face? Are you crazy or what!”

“I wasn’t flirting with the princess,” he answered, turning to snatch the sword out of Sunwoo’s hands. He wasn’t even supposed to be bringing weapons within the sleeping quarters, all of those were supposed to stay within the barracks army for safety reasons. “I have no reason to flirt with the princess.”

“You were kinda flirting with the princess man,” Younghoon spoke from the other side of the room, glancing at the two boys with a curious glint in his eyes. Juyeon had totally forgotten he was even with them, quietly slinking around the room to eavesdrop on Sunwoo and his conversation. Usually he could tell when the boy was trying to sneak around them, but it seemed as though he was too tired and preoccupied to notice this time. “I mean, what else could that whole situation with you and princess have been?”

“I said like five words!” Juyeon insisted, holding the right amount of fingers up. “Five! How could I have flirted with her when all I asked was if she was okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, leave out the important details like the way you were smiling at her when you spoke to her,” Sunwoo pointed out. “Or the way you specifically were fighting much harder than normal to catch her attention during the mock battle? Huh? How do you explain that?”

“The king!” The boy argued, “the king was right there! Did you want me to slack off right in front of the sovereign of our kingdom and embarrass myself? You saw the way the general and king kept showering me with compliments, I had no choice.”

Younghoon shook his head in disappointment before dropping it up with his arms and speaking. “The princess couldn’t keep her eyes off you man, you suddenly became eye candy for her. And it definitely wasn’t just because your skills were really good, the princess doesn’t know enough about swordsmanship in order to be watching you for your skills.”

“You don’t…,” Juyeon stuttered, trying to find a way to defend himself. “You don’t know that…”

“Yes, I do,” Younghoon confirmed. “Everyone knows the princess barely knows a lick of swordsmanship. She was watching you, Juyeon.”

He knew that, everyone knew that the princess didn’t know anything about fighting in general. It’s the first thing that a person learns upon reaching the barracks from their hometowns, the princess does not know how to fight. She’s tried for years to run towards the barracks to even just watch the knights train their apprentices but every time she’s been denied access to the barracks.

Truth be told, he also knew that the princess was watching him during the mock battle too. How could he not, for every glance he threw the king’s way he would nearly make direct eye contact with the king’s daughter. Juyeon would quickly look away, ducking below blades that were swung above his head or dodging a jab that was aimed directly at his chest.

Everyone wanted to impress the king and the princess now, knowing that it was up to the king to decide whether or not they’d ascend the ranks and become fully fledged knights. The only thing in their way was Juyeon, the two month old apprentice from the more rural area of the kingdom. If they could take down him in a mock battle, or even get a small nick on his body, they’d get a sure fire way into the ranks of knights and royal guards.

The mere fact that the princess was accompanying her father for the first time ever wasn’t really in their favor either. Juyeon knew how much everyone adored the princess of their kingdom, scrambling and begging for just a peek of her from the balcony above the barracks. Now she had been right in front of their faces, breathing the same air as them and watching them carefully for the first time in her life. There could be no mess ups here, for who knew when they’d next see the princess within the walls of the barracks once again.

But it seemed as though Juyeon continuously kept snatching up every little opportunity there was to catch her attention. It wasn’t even on purpose, but his charms and skills stood up more than anyone else who had fought against him.

It’s impossible to catch any woman’s attention when Juyeon stood in the way.

The worst part about it was that he didn’t even mind all the attention he was receiving. Usually he’d humble himself, placing his fellow peers on a pedestal to try and uplift them and provide a source of support and strength for them. Yet the electrifying feeling he got from watching the princess’s face shift from bewilderment to flustered was addictive in the worst way possible, Juyeon almost cracked a smile just thinking about it. His power was truly unrivaled in a way he didn’t even mean for it to be.

Juyeon covered face with his hand, trying his best to conceal the ever growing flush on his face. This feeling… it shouldn’t have been this addictive.

“Either way,” Sunwoo began, cutting straight through Juyeon's thoughts like a sword to the chest. “You can’t be flirting with the princess.”

“Why not?” He asked, responding a little faster than he anticipated. Both Younghoon and Sunwoo gave him a knowing look, as if the boy had confirmed their suspicions of courting the king’s daughter. “I’m not saying I was, god! I’m just asking… why I can’t if I ever wanted to try…”

“Number one!” Sunwoo called out.

“There are dozens of knights trying to court her at this very second,” Younghoon pointed out. “Becoming one of those people will not only give you an unfair advantage but also make you gain a lot more enemies than you think. I’m almost one hundred percent sure you don’t want to mess with the already established and trusted knights within the king’s circle.”

“Number two!”

“She’s a princess, daughter of the king of the entire nation,” Younghoon stated, pointing an accusing finger towards Juyeon. “What are you compared to that?”

Juyeon rolled his eyes at their words, leaning up against the bed once again before answering. “I’m a knight’s apprentice, son of a barely known blacksmith in the rural areas of the kingdom.”

“You’ve got nothing to offer. She’s got a whole kingdom, you’ve got nothing but a sword and your face,” Sunwoo told him, shaking his head in disappointment. “If you’re going to try and court a princess of all people, I think you’d need a decent background to even try. Most of the people who try and flirt with her are people with lots of money, connections, or are just close to the king and his circle.”

“Alright then…,” He mumbled, glancing between the two of them. “What’s number three?”

The two boys looked at each other for a moment, a smile growing on her faces as they turned back towards Juyeon. “We kill you for leaving us behind!”

IV.

“I hate this stupid game,” you mumbled, keeping your head propped up with one hand as you stared down at the chess pieces in front of you. Chanhee had come to visit again, companying his father on legal matters that neither of you could care for. With nothing to do for the day he had offered to play a game with you, a game he was learning to play back in his own kingdom.

You agreed believing that both of you wouldn’t be very good and manipulate the rules in order to play, but that wasn’t the case at all. Chanhee was beating you badly, snatching a majority of your black chess pieces off of the board and assaulting your side with his white pieces. He said he wasn’t good but it seemed as though he was natural at this game. “It’s not a stupid game,” he corrected you, placing his white pawn near your black queen. “This game is all about trickery and strategy, if you can’t do that how will you win a war?”

“There is no war to be fought,” you explain to him, grinning to yourself as you moved your black knight piece and took his white pawn. “Even if there was, I have generals, allies, and a council of people to help win said war. That’s kind of their job after all, planning battle strategies and executing them flawlessly.”

Chanhee snorted at your answer, innocently looking down at the board and carefully plotting his next move. “Thinking like that will make you a weak queen, Y/N. I hope you know that. It’ll make you easy to manipulate if you can’t think for yourself… checkmate.” He stated finally, using his white bishop to move diagonally towards your black king. You curse to yourself quietly as you realized the predicament you were in.

Without knowing, Chanhee had nearly completely surrounded your king. His white chess pieces were all clustered up around your king, his bishop, both his knights, two pawns, and his queen closer to him for backup. “This game is so stupid!” You call out in frustration, moving another the last black pawn on your side to take his knight. Without hesitation the prince moved his bishop and quickly took your king within his hands, replacing your most crucial piece with his mocking white bishop. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

“You don’t want to play because you’re bad at this game,” the prince teased, placing the chess pieces back into their original order as you pushed your chair away from the table like a child. “It’s not my fault you can’t use your brain to its full capacity, my Royal Highness, Princess Y/N.”

“You’re so lucky you’re my friend,” you threatened, mentally wiping that catlike smile off of his delicate features. “Had you been any other person I would have hurt you by now.”

“Oh no!” He gasped, sarcasm dripping off his tongue as he mockingly waved his hands around in fear. “The princess with no fighting experience is going to hurt me! I’m so scared, what will I ever do?”

“Chanhee!” You yelled, jumping out of your chair in a heartbeat. The prince laughed at you as he leaped out of his seat, sprinting out of the room and closing the door behind him as fast he could knowing he was going to be faster than you. While you’ve been wearing fancy dresses and expensive, custom made heels your entire life, that didn’t make it any easier to run in. “Chanhee, you annoying little prince! Come back here and take back those words!”

You grumble to yourself as you kick off your shoes, desperate to catch the boy and give him a piece of your mind. You may have little to know fighting skills, but you didn’t need to know how to defend yourself to choke someone out. In a rush you hurry towards the door, swinging it open with an intense speed you didn’t think was possible only to open it to the face of your father’s royal advisor. “Good day, your Royal Highness.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to compose yourself as best as possible before properly responding to him. “Good day, sir. Is there anything I can help you with today? I’m kind of in a rush right now… his highness, Prince Chanhee—”

“—Can wait,” the royal advisor finished, urging you to open the door wider so that he could step in. Awkwardly push it open a little more, stepping to the side and inviting him inside. He gratefully entered, not hesitating for even a moment to begin explaining things to you. “As you know your father, the king, had decided a month ago to allow a few of the knights in training to ascend to the ranks of true nights and royal guards.”

“Of course I know,” you respond, grabbing the heels you had discarded in your attempt to chase after the Fantasia prince and throwing them off to the side where the royal advisor couldn’t find them. “He told me and my mother about it, he was thinking about adding new royal guards to the ranks since a few of them had notified my father of their retirement from the ranks.”

“Excellent, I’m glad you’ve been caught up that far,” he explained, making you raise a skeptical brow. Caught up that far? What else were you missing? You were the princess, it was rather important that you were updated on things that involved you and your family’s safety and security.

“Unbeknownst to you, the king and queen had sworn in a total of five knights earlier in the day while the king of Fantasia and his family were discussing their own matters of importance.”

“Without me?” You questioned.

“Without you.” The advisor confirmed. “Prince Chanhee of Fantasia had you occupied, and no one wanted to bother you while you were having one of your very few days off within the palace.”

You didn’t know whether you should be grateful for the privacy with Chanhee or upset with the fact that your father and mother did not think to invite you to the swearing in of the new royal guards. “Do not be distraught, your highness,” the royal advisor told you, a small smile playing on his lips as he began to speak. “It was simply a matter of keeping your best interest within sight, you will meet the newest royal guards whenever you feel the need.”

You nod your head in understanding, there was no need to be upset now. The damage was already done and it wasn’t too hard to move from. “Can I at least know who has joined us in the palace?”

The royal advisor nodded his head in response, standing up straight in response as he began to recall the names of all the knights that had joined them. “The most notable names I can recall at the moment are all from the barracks here within the palace walls. Knights Kim Younghoon, Kim Sunwoo, and Lee Juyeon, your personal guard.”

You froze upon hearing the royal advisor’s words, slowing processing everything in your brain as the gears began to turn inside of your brain. “I’m sorry but,” You laughed softly, trying your best to hear correctly. “Can you repeat that one more time? Who is the new royal guard?”

“Of course, your highness,” He agreed, “the new royal guards are Younghoon—“

“The last part! I just need the last part.”

“Lee Juyeon, your new personal guard. He was the barracks finest apprentice, being the most talented and skilled boy we have received in a few years.” Your father’s royal advisor explained, highly praising the boy as he spoke, “your father decided to place him as your personal guard, to protect you from any dangers while your father is away. It’s simply a safety precaution— Princess Y/N!”

It was too late. By the time the royal advisor called your name, you had already thrown on whatever pair of shoes you could find and scrambled out of the door to find your supposed personal guard. Out of all the people the king could have picked to be your specific guard, he chose Juyeon? The one that had made you flustered and fidget? The one that made your face and ears burn with a pinkish hue at just the mere sight of his smile? The talented mounted archer from just a month or two ago? That Lee Juyeon?

You stepped out into the corridor with a disheveled look on your face, your eyes darting around anxiously for the boy. Why him? Why was he popping up into your life again, right after you had gotten over the way you had completely embarrassed yourself at the barracks?

“Princess Y/N?” You sucked your breath as you turned around, coming face to face to the boy you hoped to never see again. He was still just as breathtaking as before, his eyes shining even brighter than when you first saw him full of confidence as his face glowing like the sun rays filtered through the windows was just a simple accessory for him.

Nothing much had changed about him since the day you first saw him, the only difference was now he had a genuine sword held within the scabbard that was hanging from his belt and that he was wearing your kingdom’s crest on the fabric of his tunic. Juyeon smiled at you as he pushed himself off of the wall, taking a few steps in front of you before speaking once again. “It’s been awhile since we’ve last seen each other, hasn’t it?”

You finally exhaled, the emotions tied into your sigh unknown as you worked up the courage to reply back to him. “I believe it has been… Sir Juyeon, I guess I should start calling you? With the whole… rank change and all.”

He shook his head at your suggestion, unable to shake the happy grin off his face as he spoke to you. “No, you don’t have to. I don’t like being too formal, plus we’re around the same age, aren’t we? You can just call me Juyeon.”

“But… you’re a knight now, a royal guard even,” you insisted. “You’ve worked hard to earn this rank, to earn this title even, I should address you the correct way at least.”

Though Juyeon was persistent whether you liked it or not. “Seriously, I don’t really care about titles and things like that. You can just call me Juyeon, it’s fine I promise.”

You nod in understanding, feeling your hands begin to twitch in anticipation once again. How were you going to handle being Juyeon being your personal guard when you could barely keep yourself from nervously fidgeting around? The boy was stuck with you until your father appointed a new guard or took away his knight status completely and you could barely compose yourself just standing in front of him.

You hated this feeling he gave you. It was like he casted a spell on you, where you could no longer think correctly or control yourself upon being in the same room as him. But you didn’t know how you could get rid of it, you don’t know if you could even get rid of it at all.

“I see you two are already acquainted with each other,” your royal advisor noted, smiling at both you and Juyeon. “Perfect this will be a smooth ride from here on out.”

It had been about three months since Juyeon had been assigned to you as your personal guard and you genuinely hadn’t believed things would ever shift between the two of you. Your original dynamic had been stiff and tricky, you were withholding yourself from trying to become close to the knight and he was very determined to get to know you better.

Every time he would flash you one of those dashing smiles of his while the two of you would walk down the hallway you’d have to force yourself to not twitch, hands down at your sides and face turned forward to avoid making eye contact. Though the boy seemed to enjoy your very clear struggle to compose yourself, carefully prying into your thoughts when no one was around and teasing you about how you could never truly look him in the eyes.

For a good four weeks or so, that’s how the two of you functioned. Juyeon would smile, you’d become flustered, and he’d tease you for your reaction.

That’s as far as he’d ever go though, never reaching over boundaries or talking out of turn when he was with you. Because of the clear line of comfort the two of you had placed in between each other, you never thought that you’d become any closer. You put him at arm's length for two months because you were afraid of shaking and fidgeting under his gaze.

But then somehow, he had been able to crack your nervous shell. Juyeon had pointed out one of the swords you had hooked up against the wall, shining in the dim light of your room and covered in rare and bright gemstones. Somehow he had finally found the on switch for you, pressing the button and watching you suddenly ramble on and on about your interest in swordsmanship like no one had even tried to ask you beforehand. It was a little embarrassing to explain your long term obsession with fighting, but Juyeon never seemed to mind.

After that the two of you clicked. No longer was your relationship just ‘Juyeon your personal royal guard and Y/N the princess of the nation’, but Juyeon and Y/N. Two people of the same age that got along like birds of a feather. The palace itself seemed to notice this change the two of you went through, their eyes lingering on the two of you as you passed to try and decode your muffled giggles and his beaming smile.

Though the person who was most astonished by the change was none other than Prince Chanhee of Fantasia.

He hadn’t visited the palace at the same time you had first gotten Juyeon as your guard so he had not first hand experienced your growing friendship with the knight so it was understandable how he was a little confused. “Y/N…” Chanhee began, fumbling with his fingers as he glanced between the two of you. You looked back as well to find Juyeon walking behind the two of you, distracting himself with the walls of the palace to give you and the Fantasia prince some privacy. “Of all the people you could have picked… it had to be the archer from that day?”

“It wasn’t my decision,” you insisted, turning away from Juyeon to walk forward once more. “It was a situational circumstance and it was bound to happen now that we were going to walk the same path as each other, literally walk the same path as each other.”

“I know, you’ve told me this a million times.” He nodded, yet still unsatisfied with the answer you had provided him. Chanhee quickly picked his pace to match yours, not wanting to be any closer to Juyeon than he already had to be. “But I can’t help but… odd about this.”

You raised a brow at his words, letting it sink and marinate within your mind. “You feel… odd about me getting close to Juyeon?”

“Not in a weird jealous way,” Chanhee clarified, “I would never care about you that much. I mean I’ve been noticing your body language when you’re around him. You’re very much relaxed and it’s very clear that you enjoy his company but you have… nervous quirks. When you talk to him your hands shake like a woman with hand tremors and not to mention the way your ears will burn like a night’s lantern at the same time!”

“They still do that?” You whispered, holding your hands close to your chest. You could have sworn that once you and Juyeon had become friends all of your nervous habits stopped. You were anxious around the boy because you barely knew him and the way he made you felt in a crowd of people made you embarrassed, but that should have all ended once the two of you had gotten close! “God, do you think he’s noticed at all? I tried to get over the whole hands shaking thing after our first encounter at the barracks and I didn’t feel my hands shaking at all after I started treating him like a friend.”

The prince had to conceal a very heavy sigh that wanted to escape his mouth, glancing around the hallway for a moment to find a place where the two of you could receive some privacy. Without warning Chanhee grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the study on the right side of the hall. “Juyeon!” You called, allowing the boy to pull you along with little to no effort. “Give us like… five minutes? Stand guard, we’ll be out soon!”

You didn’t get a chance to see or hear the boy’s reaction as you were yanked inside of the study, the door closing behind you as Chanhee finally let go. “What was all that about?” You demanded from him, standing in the middle of the sunlight study with a scowl donning your face.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to realize… it took you three months to realize!” Chanhee exclaimed, shaking his head in pure disbelief as he paced back and forth. “Honestly at this point you’re either completely clueless or stupid, though I could bet it was both at the same time.”

“That was rude,” you bite, slapping his shoulder in retaliation for his harsh words. A smile broke out on the prince’s face for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe you had the utter audacity to hit him. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Chanhee. Explain yourself.”

“Y/N! Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of her nation!” The boy exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air before bringing them down onto your shoulders. “The princess has finally fallen!”

“Fallen?”

“Fallen in love!” Chanhee dodged out of the way of your fist this time, skipping around the room with a spring in his step. You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. You? The princess known to make knights and squires squirm for just a small glimpse of you? Fallen in love?

“No, Chanhee, I haven’t—“ you tried to explain, distracted by the boy’s overwhelming excitement. “—I’m not in love. That’s crazy, Chanhee. Get a grip on yourself, this is absurd!”

The boy turned to you with his catlike grin, refusing to take no for an answer as he began to take light steps toward you. “How is this absurd, your Royal Highness? I mean, does the pieces not make a clear picture for you? You’ve fallen in love with your personal guard, that’s what all these nervous habits you have are suddenly about! Plus the fact that you turn as red as rose when you address him sometimes, there’s no other way to describe it!”

You wanted to fight back the Fantasia prince’s words, debating him on what your true feelings were and that you simply saw Juyeon as a new close friend of yours. But when you looked back on all your memories of him, the ones with the two of you together and the ones where you were alone, your words didn’t match up with your actions. All the tiny stolen glances you’d give Juyeon when he wasn’t aware, the way your heart would accelerate every time you saw him in the morning, the way your hands twitched in anticipation when speaking to the personal guard.

“No…,” You mumble to yourself, standing there in disbelief, before trying to find a chair to sit in. “There’s no way…!”

“Yes way!” Chanhee insisted, almost as if he was reading straight into your thoughts as he walked towards you. “Y/N, it’s time you come to terms with the facts that've been placed in front of you. Your own body is telling you that you enjoy your personal guard’s company a little more than the average person! Face it, Y/N, you like him.”

“This has got to be some sort of mistake, I don’t like Juyeon. Yes, I think he’s attractive, one of the most stunning knights my kingdom has ever seen, but they doesn’t mean—“

The prince let out a frustrated groan, covering his face with his hands as he fell on to a chair not far from yours. “Do you even hear yourself at this point? Y/N, you’re telling me to get a grip, you need to get a grip! How are you going to deny all of the evidence that is right in front of you? What else do you need to confirm my suspicions?”

“I don’t know!” You snapped, a burst of confusion and frustration exploding out of your mouth in the form of your tone. “I don’t want to believe that I’ve fallen in love with Juyeon, do you know how awkward that’ll be for me? I’m with him at every waking moment of day, I’ll never get a moment's rest if I really do like him. And there’s no way I could like him, I’m the one who makes knights and squires swoon, it’s not supposed to be the other way around.”

Both you and the prince sat in silence for a moment, struggling with each other to come to terms with the arguments you presented. The worst part about it is that if you have in fact fallen for your personal guard, you wouldn’t be too bothered by the thought.

Chanhee suddenly spring up out of his seat, a smile growing across his face as his brain began to twist and turn at the new thought that had popped into his head. “That’s it!” He exclaimed, turning towards you with a mischievous look on his face. “I know a way you can figure out if your feelings for the boy are true or not, and you actually like the idea I’ve come up with. It keeps your best interest in mind.”

VI.

“Prince Chanhee of Fantasia…” Juyeon began, peering into the sleeping quarters cautiously to make sure no other knight was inside of the room. The only people inside were Sunwoo and Younghoon, both who had shot up out of their beds at the sound of the boy’s voice. “Who exactly… is he to the princess?”

“You see us for the first time today and all you have to talk about is the princess?” Sunwoo snorted, falling right back into his bed with a huff. That was a fair reaction, seeing as Juyeon spent nearly twenty four hours with the princess on a daily basis. He could at least have something new and different to talk about when he was with his friends. But he couldn’t help it this time, not when he was curious about the prince who had visited for the day.

Both the prince and his father were gone now, sleeping in their giant and extravagant beds of their own kingdom instead of spending the night here. But Juyeon couldn’t help but feel some sort of way about the Fantasia prince, his eyes had been locked into his head since he had first approached the princess when he arrived. Though whether he was watching him out of intrigue or jealousy was unknown to him.

“He’s the princess’s close friend,” Younghoon shrugged, answering for the stubborn boy who refused to give him any sort of help. “I heard they’ve been friends since they were children and many people including those outside of the palace walls thought they were going to be betrothed to each other at one point. It made sense, both of them were of royal descent and have known each other well enough for it to happen. The kings of their respective nations were close to each other.”

“Oh,” Juyeon responded, falling into his assigned bed a little harder than he had originally planned. “That’s good to know.”

“Prince Chanhee has not tried to court the princess though,” Sunwoo explained, staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. Despite handing over the information he knew, he still seemed upset with Juyeon but the boy was simply stubborn like that. “They’ve been friends since forever and not once in my life have I heard he’s ever tried to make a move on her. As much as the kingdom wants the two to get together, they’re probably just friends.”

A quiet sigh of relief left Juyeon’s mouth as he nodded, covering his face with his hands as he responded in a slightly chirper tone. “Oh, that’s good to know.”

“Hey!” Sunwoo scolded, sitting up at the speed of light as he caught the boy’s tone of voice. “What did we say about the princess?”

He groaned in response to Sunwoo’s words, sitting up out of his bed as he recited, “dozens of knights are trying to court her, she’s a princess and I have nothing to offer, and you’ll kill me if I leave you behind.”

“Exactly,” Younghoon smiled. “I’ll drive a sword right through your stomach and Sunwoo will shoot your heart with an arrow if you even think about abandoning us for the princess.”

“I can’t shoot an arrow through his heart,” Sunwoo argued, shooting a mischievous smile towards Juyeon as he called out. “Not when the princess already shot one in the bullseye!”

“Leave me alone!” Juyeon hissed, ignoring the boys devilish giggles behind him. He couldn’t help himself from being so enamored by the princess’s mere presence, especially when he was around her for the majority of the day.

When he first came to the barracks, he couldn’t have cared less about the royal family’s daughter. He simply there to train as a knight for his kingdom and provide some sort of stability for his family back home. Juyeon was usually the one innocently teasing the other knights and squires for their one siding crush on a person they could not have, but the tides had completely turned on him. Now he was the one secretly pining after royalty.

His attention was caught when he heard soft knocking on glass, turning his head towards the window as confusion crossed his face. Sunwoo and Younghoon didn’t seem to notice the noise as they were too caught up in their teasing of the boys unfortunate feelings so the boy didn’t even bother to alert them at the sudden intrusion.

As swiftly and quietly as he could he slipped out of the bed and peered through the window’s glass, trying his best to see what had caused the sound. So one could only imagine his disbelief when he caught sight of your face in the window, standing in your tiptoes to look inside of the barracks. When your eyes caught each other's, you immediately smiled back at him and confirmed to him that you were truly standing outside of the sleeping quarters. “Y/N?” He exclaimed, a little louder than he originally had meant to happen.

Juyeon turned around and saw both Younghoon and Sunwoo staring at him, unable to comprehend the fact that he had called you by your name instead of addressing you by your full title. “You’re…,” Sunwoo began, struggling to get the words out of his mouth, “you’re on a first name basis with the princess?”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He assured them, knocking the glass to signal that he was coming to meet you. Immediately both Younghoon and Sunwoo jumped up, scrambling towards the boy with a million questions on their mind. Juyeon just narrowly dodged their onslaught, dashing to the door and closing it on their faces. “Just give me ten minutes! I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back!”

“You’re in a lot of trouble when you get back!” The younger knight whispered, but there was just enough diction in his voice to know that he was threatening him. Juyeon only smiled to himself as he took a few steps away from the door, searching for the nearest archway to lead him into the courtyard. How had you even gotten this close to the barracks? If he remembered correctly, most guards within the palace would have stopped you before you could even get close. Did you really only need to walk inside the barracks once to sneak in for good?

“Want to explain how you got here without getting caught?” He asked you as he rounded the corner, leaning up against the wall with a knowing smirk on his face.

You stood up from where you were sitting on the ground, the white nightgown you were supposed to be wearing to sleep practically glowing in the moon’s light. You hesitated to respond to him as you played with the sleeve of your nightgown unconsciously, though sharing that same smile you had given him earlier in his sleeping quarters as you asked, “did you call me by my first name in there?”

“I did not.”

“You did!” You gasped, pointing an accusing finger towards him as you walked toward him. “I know you did, you said my name without any titles attached to it. You can’t play dumb with me, I knew as soon as you noticed I was there and said something from behind the glass.”

“You’re avoiding my question,” Juyeon pointed out, putting a hand out in front of him to keep a small distance in between the two of you. “How did you get here without being caught?”

“You’re avoiding my question!” You argued. “Did you call me by my first name when you were with your friends? It’s totally fine if you did, you realize this right? I don’t mind if you don’t use titles with me, but I just want you to admit what you said.”

The two stood stared at each other in silence, refusing to let up first and wanting the other to reveal the information they had. Juyeon would have thought you would go on for longer, being the fiercer out of the duo about what you wanted. Though after a few seconds you nervously cleared your throat, stepping back and away from Juyeon to stay out of his personal space. “You know what, forget it, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, you were just about to tell how you got into the barracks without anyone catching you,” he insisted, watching as you rolled your eyes in annoyance. Despite losing the ‘staring contest’ you weren't about to give away any of your little secrets to him. “That’s a big achievement for you, isn't it? Knowing that you haven’t stepped foot into the barracks since the day you arrived with your father makes it even—“

“I want you to train me, teach me the whole swordsmanship thing,” you blurted, cutting off Juyeon in the middle of his sentence.

Slowly his smile began to drop into a look of disbelief, unsure of whether or not he had heard you right. In a rush, you quickly rambled on, “it doesn’t have to be as intense as your training from when you were a squire! And I don’t need to know everything you know, I just want to be able to fight. You know, slicing and dicing my enemies up in order to protect myself if need be— I know I have you and the entire royal guard on my side but this is just something I’ve always wanted so… please?”

“Why… why me though?”

You froze upon being asked his question, struggling to form coherent sentences to continue the conversation. “Because…,” you stuttered, your ears turning a rosy red hue as you tried to make an excuse. Juyeon attempted to not notice, keeping his eyes focused solely on you and waiting patiently waiting for your answer, but he couldn’t help himself. Whatever you were going to say to him next wasn’t going to be good enough erase the undertones of your silence.

There was a very likely possibility that you harbored the same feelings for him as he did for you, if he was reading the nature of the room right. Of course, there was the offset chance that you were simply embarrassed to give him your real reason, so he couldn’t just put all his money on one option only to be disappointed in the end.

“You’re my friend,” you finally explained. “Not only are you my friend, but you’re my personal guard and the ‘supposed’ finest knight within the kingdom’s men at the moment. So wouldn’t it make sense to learn from someone who is an acquaintance and is skilled in the area I’m trying to learn in? I don’t know, it sounds like logic to me.”

“Right,” he nodded, thought speaking more for himself than for you. Juyeon couldn’t get his hopes up, not when the person he had fallen for was a member of royalty. High hopes would only get him utterly disappointed when everything came back around. “That’s logical thinking, you’re right.”

VII.

Two nights out of every week you snuck out of your room and met up with Juyeon at the barracks. He’d cautiously sneak you inside of one of the very many training rooms that the barracks had to offer with the help of his friends and there he would teach you all he knew about sword fighting. Well… kinda.

It was a very difficult process to endure as you were something less than a beginner and Juyeon was something more than a master. Your varying levels of proficiency made it hard to work together since the personal guard wanted to skip the basics immediately and you had never even touched the basics beforehand. All your experience of sword fighting had only ever come from watching others from afar, so you truly didn’t know anything.

The perfect stance, how to hide your weak points, you didn’t even realize how heavy a genuine sword was! The mere thought that you were supposed to be the one controlling the swords slicing and slashing and not the other way around was astounding to you.

It was embarrassing to know that Juyeon had watched you nearly topple over yourself when you grabbed a sword for the first time, your arms not used to the amount of weight that you were carrying. You could barely pick it up, let alone sling it over your shoulder as the boy did ever so flawlessly. He’d giggle and tease you for floundering all over the ground with the sword in hand, slightly mocking you as he twirled his blade with ease. You’d sit there mumbling under your breath small threats and empty promises as your face would burn in shame.

If anyone had caught you two in the act of training, they would think you were a lost cause at first.

“A quick jab and turn isn’t going to do anything, Y/N,” Juyeon innocently told you, his sun rivaling grin growing across his face as he pointed the tip of his blade towards you. You were on the complete other side of the room, keeping your distance away from the personal guard instead of attacking him head on. “This isn’t fencing, these weapons are made to cut, not poke.”

“I know,” you angrily reply, growing tired with his ongoing cat and mouse game you two played. “You’re just really obnoxious.” You tried to attack him, rushing in with no genuine plan in your head. The dull swords clashed together with an angry metal screech when you swiped your blade at him, your attack quickly being blocked by Juyeon as he lifted up his own sword to block against your attack. Frustrated, you began to press the majority of your weight onto the sword, forcing it to move towards the boy’s torso at a slow pace as he fought against it.

Wordlessly he stepped forward, pushing back against your attack and forcing you to move back with a heavy foot. You yelped when you suddenly lost your footing, the weight you had pressed into the blade betraying you as you hit the ground with an unfortunately loud thud. You stayed down on the ground for a little longer than you wanted, catching your breath and making sure you didn’t potentially crack your head open on the stone floors. The two of you couldn’t train in the courtyard in fear that someone would catch you in the barracks, but now you were willing to risk the chance.

“I’m not obnoxious,” the boy defended as you secretly rolled your eyes at his words. “You’re just bad at fighting and… wildy easy to predict.”

“That’s because someone didn’t teach me the basics like they were supposed to!” You complained, lifting yourself off the ground and pointing an accusing finger at him. Juyeon sheepishly smiled as you continued to call out, “you just threw a sword at me the first day and said hit me! I nearly fell when I grabbed that thing and you wanted me to fight first thing? I thought I already established to you that I knew nothing at all?”

“I know the basics are so boring after you’ve completed it all. If you want someone else to teach you just say so, I’m sure that Sunwoo and Younghoon would kill to be in your presence and teach you how to fight,” Juyeon argued, leaning up against the pommel of his sword and curiously looking down at you. When you didn’t respond to his suggestion, he shrugged his shoulders and joined you in the ground for a moment. “That’s what I thought.”

The entire ‘Juyeon teaches you sword fighting’ idea was all Chanhee’s plan, conjuring up the brilliant idea in a matter of seconds. The Fantasia prince had suggested it as a way for you not only to learn swordsmanship but figure out if you truly held feelings for the personal guard as you would be engaged in a lot more close combat and would be alone with each other for a few more hours within the day. Honestly you think that was the first time you had ever called the boy a genius, mainly for the reason that you would finally dabble in your long term interests.

However instead of falling completely and uncontrollably in love with Juyeon, you just wanted to slice his head off. He was nothing like he usually was when it came to fighting, his condescending smirks and over the top mocking getting the best of him whenever he had fought against you. Though his continuous and annoying teasing only fueled your drive to master sword fighting even stronger than before, so you guessed that was one thing that was working out for you.

Though, if you had to be honest, you did have your moments where you faltered not because of your own lack of skill but because of Juyeon in general. Let it be known that whether you had feelings for the personal guard or not, he was conventionally attractive. Running his fingers through his hair, his beaming smile of knowingness, even the arrogant looks of victory was enough to distract you from your adrenaline fueled drive to stab Juyeon in the chest. Did he even know he had that effect on you?

Maybe it’s best he didn’t know, you didn’t need another weakness to add to your ever growing skill set of cans and can’ts.

“Why didn’t you actually teach me the basics though?” You asked him, catching his attention almost immediately. “I mean… I learned the basics by myself with no help by mock battling you for several nights straight. I’m not the best fighter but I’d at least like to stand a chance against you instead of humiliating myself over and over again.”

Juyeon thought to himself for a moment, staring at the ceiling and anxiously running his hands through his hair. “Is ‘because it’s fun to mess with you’ a valid answer to your question?”

You gave the boy a strained smile and you hissed, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Then i don’t know,” he admitted, lifting himself off of the ground and fumbling around with his hands. Juyeon wasn’t looking directly at you as he spoke, staring off into the void with an unknown emotion swirling around in his eyes. “I’m not that good of a teacher for close friends if I’m gonna be honest. I get competitive, more focused on the fulfillment of my joy and worth than actually… teaching someone how to do a task or skill.”

You nodded in understanding, all of the frustration and annoyance from earlier gone within a flash of his words. What he said was fair, some people just don’t have the ability to teach others and he just happened to be one of them. “So then why’d you agree that night?” You asked him, now trying to wrap your head around that fact. “I mean if you knew you’d have a hard time teaching me how to sword fight, you didn’t have to say yes… you do know that right?”

“I know,” he responded, before turning to you with his signature smile. Your hands began to shake once again at the sight of it, the same exact smile he had the audacity to give you in front of all the knights and squires when he was among their ranks. The one that would go from ear to ear in pure amusement and endearment from your words and reactions. That one, the one that started this mess in the first place. “I know I could have declined if I wanted to but… something in me wanted to help you anyways.”

“And that something was…?” You questioned, your words trailing off just a little as you urged him to explain. You don’t know exactly what you’re expecting for him to say. That he agreed out of obligation? The kindness of his heart? That he simply wanted to spend time with you? Did you even know what you wanted his answer to be? Or how disappointed you’d be if it wasn’t anything that would give you the false hope you were unconsciously reaching for?

He sighed to himself for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, really. Like… I know but at the same time I don’t? It’s complicated and I don’t really want to bug you with it.” Juyeon explained, glancing down to your nervously trembling hands with a teasing smile growing on his face. “What’s with the shaking hands? When you were holding that sword you were as tough as a rock, feeling a little vulnerable without it?”

“Shut up,” you snapped at him, immediately putting your hands behind your back, squeezing them together as you tried to keep a straight face. Of course he was going to notice that nervous tick of yours one day, it was inevitable especially after the Fantasia prince had caught onto it. Chanhee wasn’t even at the palace every day to even pick up on it, he just knew you well. So why would you ever believe that Juyeon, your personal guard for heaven's sake, wouldn’t have noticed it? “It’s just cold,” you lied, “we aren’t doing anything right now and the night’s cold just gets to me something.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Juyeon questioned, earning himself a skeptical look from you. In a heartbeat he reached behind you and scooped up your hand and his, holding it tightly in his grasp with a grin.

You snatched your hand in retaliation, your ears burning the unfortunate rosy red as you shout, “woah! Hold on, what are you doing?”

“Relax, Y/N,” the boy laughed, gently taking your hand back and holding it up for the both of you to see. “I’m holding your hand because you said you were cold, and exchanging body heat might warm you.” His hands were so much bigger than yours, rough and firm from the work he put in as he trained with the other knights of your kingdom. It was a very stark difference from your dainty and softer hands, the only work you had ever done was smile and wave to the people and royals of other nations. Yet somehow, despite these differences, his hands fit perfectly into the gaps of yours.

You wondered how many knights and squires would have ridiculed Juyeon if they could see you two now. The princess of their nation, who was notorious for playing knights like lyres and rejecting their advances, was willingly holding hands with the finest and most favored knight within the palace walls. “Well don’t tell anyone I let you do this,” you warned, relaxing after a moment of silence. “Not even your other knights friends can know I let you do this! I have a reputation to keep up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy nodded, no longer paying attention to you specifically and simply observing the way his hands fit in yours. “I promise I won’t. Your secret is safe with me. I like the way your hand fits in mind anyways.”

VIII.

When your parents asked you if you had found a potential suitor to be your future king, you told them no almost immediately. Your quickness made your father raise a skeptical brow at your answer and your mother nearly fainted in shock, gasping hysterically.

Their daughter, the princess, the future queen of their nation, had not yet found a boy to be her king? Unacceptable, impossible! They couldn’t allow this behavior of yours to continue, knowing how you had played with the hearts of countless knights within the palace walls. So they had decided to take matters into their own hands, they needed to place down a platter of men around your age that you could pick and choose whatever your little heart desires.

A ball, they had told you, they were planning a ball and were inviting all their noble and royal allies to attend. They were going to bring their sons ,have them attempt to court you, and then you would pick one of the boys to be your king. Genuinely, when they first informed you of their plans you thought they were joking. They wouldn’t actually do all of that because you said you didn’t have anyone in mind yet right?

And they did.

Here you were, standing on the ballroom floor with Chanhee by your side with the most bewildered expression your face could muster. You were adorned in a large wine red ballgown, matching your family who wore nearly identical, with jewels scattered across your arms and ears for an extra shimmer to your already extravagant look. Not to forget the most important piece of the whole attire, the signature silver rhinestone crown that identified you as the princess of the nation.

The tiara and grown lifestyle, the lifestyle you haven't been fond of even as a child. You were unwillingly living it.

“Careful,” Chanhee whispered, placing a comforting hand on your bare shoulder. “I don’t need you exploding in front of everyone right now, who knows what kind of scene that’ll create.”

“I might as well!” You snap, catching the unwanted attention of the nobles around you. Both of you turned to them and smiled, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible about your true feelings of the event. When they bowed in greeting before finally turning away from you and Fantasia prince, you were back to being the ticking time bomb you had entered the ballroom being. “You think I wanted to have this event planned? You think I wanted to have this event at all?”

“Of course you didn’t, I know you. You like to horseplay and run around like a little village girl.” Chanhee explained, rolling his eyes at your prevalent attitude. “But you can’t really do that right now can you? One small misstep and you’ll embarrass your parents right before their eyes, you need to keep it together.”

“How?” You asked him, maneuvering through the crowd of nobles so that you and Chanhee could have a little more privacy. Who knew what random noble or king’s son would walk up to you in the middle of your conversation and beg you to have a dance with him? “I don’t feel comfortable in what I’m wearing, I don’t want to be here in the first lance, I’m getting on my last nerves, and who knows when some random boy I don’t know tries woo me into liking him? I might actually lose it here!”

Chanhee struggled to keep up with your demands, trying to think of another quick solution to your problems like he always did. He must have something in that brain of his doesn’t? Or was it all just full of strategies to absolutely destroy you at chess? “I got it! Just talk to me.”

“What?” Chanhee’s suggestion stopped you dead in your tracks, giving him the most bizzare expression you could make at that moment. “Your very Royal Highness I’m sorry to inform you, but people won’t care if I’m talking to you, you understand that right? They know you wouldn’t even attempt to try and take my hand in marriage so they’ll just barge in anyways.”

“I don’t mean like that,” he hissed, softly hitting your shoulder in retaliation. “Talk to me about the personal guard and I’ll lead you away from the party. We just need to super busy in order to pull off the act that we’re walking around and definitely not trying to leave the ball.”

You nodded in understanding, though feeling your face begin heat up and turn into that all telling rosy red color. “Why— why him specifically? Can’t I talk about something else?”

“Where is he now?” The Fantasia prince questioned, holding out his arm for you to take so he could drag you out of the ballroom. “He's your personal guard isn’t it, your Royal Highness? Why isn’t he flanking your every step and protecting you like a dog to its owner?”

The boy snickered at his words until you elbowed his side, stopping both of you in your tracks to watch him crumble to his knees for a moment. Did he really think he could get away with insulting Juyeon like that? To your face no less? “He’s on duty with the rest of the royal guards,” you explained, nonchalantly glancing at your nails as you waited for Chanhee to recover. The boy was all sticks and bones, easy to hinder thanks to his small body. “They’re patrolling around the palace and the ballroom to make sure no incidents occur.”

“Incidents?” Chanhee questioned.

“Like putting the king and queen pieces into checkmate type incidents,” you told you, referencing the game of chess they had played months ago. “Either way, Juyeon couldn’t come with me and enjoy this god forsaken ball with me, but maybe that’s for the best.”

“Is that in terms of you two had a sudden falling,” The Fantasia prince tried to clarify, “or as in you think you’ve finally gotten your feelings figured out?” You grimaced at the thought, unsure of how to exactly answer Chanhee’s question. Did you have your feelings figured out?

Juyeon (with the exception his friends) was the only knight whose heart you hadn’t ever attempted to toy with. You let him get away with countless things: saying your name without a title, holding your hand when it trembled, willingly allowing him to make you flustered and not suffer any sort of retribution for it. On top of all of that, you even enjoyed his company! Juyeon didn’t make you feel like a prize that needed to be one, just made you feel like… you. And you liked it.

At first, you loathed the thought of being in the knight’s vicinity because he made do and feel things you weren’t used to. You thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to use you in the way that you lead the squires and knights of the palace along. But he didn’t, the only thing he had done to you was send you flying deep into this well of the unknown without even realizing it.

“Oh I hate you,” You mumble under your breath, shooting Chanhee a knowing look. “I hate you so much.”

He blinked a few times at your hurtful words before it finally clicked in his brain, covering his mouth with his hands as he squealed. “You’ve figured it out? You realized that you like him? Y/N I’m so—“

“Princess Y/N!” The two of you turn your heads in alarm at your name being called, the worst case scenario of someone actually having the audacity to stop you coming true. You tense up upon seeing your mother wave her hand towards you, bringing attention to both of the royals from all the bystanders around you. With her was an older man, perhaps around your fathers age, staring up straight and tall with a curious glint in his eyes. His attire for the ball was littered in gold and silver medallions, purposely flaunting all of the achievements you wouldn’t bother to learn.

Though beside the older man was a boy, around your age this time, nervously glancing between the queen and the man who seemed to be his father. He tugged on the man’s sleeve desperately, trying to get him to take action but was ultimately getting ignored due to the adults taking the lead in the conversation. The queen pointed to both the boy and man with an expectant look on her face as she spoke, “please, Y/N, come join us! I’d like you to meet someone.”

“Potential suitor,” you whispered to Chanhee.

“On the count of three, run in the total opposite direction and get out of the ballroom,” He replied back.

One. “This is General Lee from a neighboring kingdom near Fantasia,” your mother explained, quickly introducing the two of you and unaware of the chaos you and the Fantasia prince were about to create.

Two. “This is his son, Prince Hyunjae. The general is the brother of the kingdom’s current king and his son will be taking the throne as the king and queen of that nation cannot produce an heir on their own.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Hyunjae began, awkwardly bowing in front of you now that all eyes were on him. “Truly it is, I’ve heard so much about you Princess—“

“Three!” You and Chanhee split from each other as quickly as possible, darting through the crowd of people in a desperate get away. You could hear the general and the queen call for you, struggling to keep up with your speed fueled by adrenaline but you paid no mind to it. They needed your presence so that you could sit and have an unfulfilling conversation with Prince Hyunjae and you weren’t going to give it to them. No offense to the prince or anything, you just don’t think you could handle that situation knowing your heart had settled on someone entirely different,

It only took you a matter of two minutes to reach the ballroom doors, muttering soft yet empty apologies to everyone you ran into and slipped through the crack in the door.

IX.

“Stupid princess,” Juyeon muttered, charging down the palace halls as fast as his legs would take him. “Stupid Y/N!” One could only imagine his panicked expression when he was suddenly approached by Sunwoo with a nervous glint in his eyes. He was so used to seeing the younger knight’s bright smile that it took Juyeon completely off guard when the boy grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied his footing.

“The princess,” Sunwoo told him, glancing between him and the corridor leading to the ballroom. “Princess Y/N, she ran from the ballroom and no one knows where she went.”

Juyeon thought he was joking at first, brushing off his words with a small laugh and teasing smile. Yet when Sunwoo’s expression didn’t change and the weight of the situation had finally processed in his mind, he shot off like an arrow towards all the spots the princess could have been hiding.

He knew you didn’t enjoy the big fancy balls and extravagant dresses of the royal life, but he thought you were going to be able to stick it out. Every time you had mentioned the king and queen’s wild idea to throw a gathering to find you a suitor, a king of your own, you were relaxed. You weren’t bothered by the thought of all and even joked about it with him every so often, so Juyeon had trusted you to be fine.

He didn’t like the idea of the ball for completely different reasons from you. He liked you, and the thought of your parents sending you off to some noble child or prince he’s never heard of made his blood boil. Because why have a ball to father suitors when he was right there? But the constant reminder from Sunwoo and Younghoon that he had nothing to offer to you and he wasn’t even in the status to even try to become betrothed to you, made him unwillingly back down from voicing his opinion to you and opposing it.

Now he was regretting, because you were missing somewhere in the palace and he didn’t know why.

He wasn’t in the ballroom when it all had happened, instructed to stand guard and patrol around the perimeter of the gathering to protect all the guests and the royal family. Juyeon didn’t understand why he was tasked to do such a thing in the first place, when he ascended the ranks into becoming a knight he was specifically told he was your personal guard. He was supposed to watch over you and protect you, so why did they have him stationed away from you?

It wasn’t until he realized that a majority of the palace, specifically the knights among his rank, had recognized his growing fondness for the princess. If they couldn’t have the princess to themselves, then neither could he.

“Y/N!” Juyeon called, completely throwing out the titles and addressing you by your first name. It’s not like anyone was around shooting him dirty looks for having the sheer audacity to call the princess by your name only. Even if they did, he wouldn’t mind. There were more important things to worry about than what he can and can’t call you. “Y/N, where’d you go? Come on, we can’t play this game of cat and mouse forever.”

He stopped at a door at the end of the corridor he was running down, grabbing a hold of the handle and shoving it open with unnecessary ferocity. Could you blame him for being a little too aggressive? With every growing second you weren’t in his sights the more anxious he was becoming. What if you were hurt? What if you were crying? What if you were—

“Juyeon, right?” Prince Chanhee asked, sitting in a chair with his feet kicked up on top of the desk. Juyeon has opened the door to one of the very many studies within the palace and out of sheer coincidence he opened the doors to the one the princess’s friend was using. Well at least… he thought it was a coincidence. I hoped it was a coincidence.

“Prince Chanhee of Fantasia,” he began, looking the boy up and down for a moment. It didn’t seem like you were with him, not a trace of your existence left in the study. It was possible that you didn’t even come in this room at all. “Where is she?”

“God, you skipped right to the point a little fast for me,” Chanhee grimaced, taking his feet off of the desk and sitting up straight. “Do you have to know where she is like right now? Because I had this whole speech I was going to give you set up and I really wanted to—”

“Prince Choi Chanhee,” Juyeon demanded, putting emphasis on each word that came out of his mouth. He didn’t have time to play around with others right now, as much as he would have loved to encourage him any other day. You were somewhere in the palace, alone, and he had to know where you were and what happened. He needed to know if you were hurt so that he could find the culprit and drive his sword straight into the chest of the wretch.

The boy raised his hands up in defeat, shooting Juyeon an annoyed glare before clearing his throat. “Y/N is at the balcony above the barracks, where the field for the mounted archery evaluations was held months ago.” The memory of the weekly evaluation was immediately triggered in his head, seeing him back months prior to his falling for the princess. The day he had proved to all of the knights and squires around him that he was the best of the best, the day he had first laid eyes on you.

“I know where that is,” he breathed, turning in his heel and getting ready to rush out the door once again. Though Chanhee scrambled out of the chair to catch up to Juyeon, stopping him from moving any further towards the balcony to reach you. “What?”

“Before you go,” the prince began, letting go of Juyeon with the hope that he wouldn’t run off at the sight of freedom. “Please don’t do anything stupid, Y/N is my friend. And as much as I tease her and bully her, I won’t let anyone hurt her. Even if that’s her wildly skillful and kinda scary personal guard.”

Juyeon couldn’t help but laugh at Chanhee’s words, reminiscing on the fact that only a few months ago he couldn’t tell whether he was intrigued by the prince’s closeness with you or jealous of it. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare.”

You leaned up against the railing of the balcony taking night time air with a deep breath. It was hard trying to avoid all the royal guards and knights within the castle, knowing that after the scene you caused they’d be searching for you. It felt like a scene from a fairy tale really, clutching the fabric of your wine red dress so you wouldn’t trip and hastily running up the stairs. Behind you you could hear the calls of all the knights and royal guards of the places looking for you, their boots heavy against the marble floors and their armor clanging against each other.

They were like walking bells, unaware of the fact that their prized armor was alerting you of their position. If the guards were coming up the corridor, you turn around and run the opposite way. If they were going down the corridor, you’d spin on your heels and make a complete u-turn. Sometimes you’d sneak into a room on whatever hallway you were on and wait for them to pass, sometimes you’d just keep running and hope your legs didn’t give out on you knowing you were wearing heels.

It was a little funny in your eyes, but that’s because you were you. You’re almost one hundred percent sure no one else thought this game of cat and mouse you were playing was fun.

“Wait, I should have gone and found Juyeon first,” you realize, shooting up off of the ground. You were so busy with attempting to successfully make your get away that you had forgotten that Juyeon was also one of the knights in duty. He was probably worried about you, searching for you around the palace like all of the other knights within the palace. With no explanation of exactly what went down in the ballroom, he’d have no clue on what was actually going on.

“I should go find him, leaving him with no context will probably drive him insane,” you nod to yourself, marching towards the balcony doors to run back into the palace. Though you stopped once you reached the door, your hands hovering over the door handles hesitantly. You should tell him what happened, it was the right thing to do after all. But were you really ready to face him again?

In the middle of that ballroom, just seconds before you had been involuntarily introduced to Prince Hyunjae, you had a revelation. You liked him. You liked your charming person guard that had caught you weak kneed from the first time you laid eyes on him. No one had ever made you feel the way you felt about Juyeon and he had done it nearly completely by accident. He was trying to court you and you simply fell for him anyways.

His skills, his face, his smiles, his personality, just him a person entirely. You adored it all, you liked him.

Well liked was an understatement now, you had truly fallen deeply in love with him and you just had to realize your genuine feelings in the middle of a party meant to find you a king. Horrible timing on your part but you just weren't sure until then.

So maybe you should wait, wait until you can gather your thoughts and feelings together without fidgeting and shaking in front of him. The nervous habit probably would have increased tenfold now that you realized why exactly you trembled when he smiled at you, and you weren’t ready to watch that whole fiasco go down. How embarrassing would that be? To get completely weak kneed in front of Juyeon without a coherent thought in the brain? Surely you’d like an idiot, wouldn’t you?

“I’ll wait,” you convinced, stepping away from the door with cautious steps. “I’m not even going to be able to look him in the eye if I see him again, I should just wait until tomorrow… but I’ll probably get scolded by my parents for running away during the ball when they had done all that planning just for me. But it’s not like I asked them to throw that ball in the first place, just because I didn’t suggest any suitors I liked!”

You yelped in alarm when the door to the balcony swung with great speed, making you jump out of skin at the sudden intrusion. “Heavens, do you know how to knock?” You asked in retaliation, your heartbeat running marathons as you tried to calm yourself down from the shock. Though when you turned to look back toward the door again, you were greeted by the rather familiar sight of your personal guard, “Juyeon?”

The boy’s eyes widened at the sight of you, as if he couldn’t believe that you were standing in front of him right now. “Y/N,” he said in between gasps, trying hard to catch his breath as he reached his hands out for you. “Y/N, you're okay.”

“Of course I’m okay,” you tell him, unsure of the thoughts that were running through his mind. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Juyeon didn’t respond to your questions, letting go of the door handle before running towards you and scooping you up in his arms. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around him for support, not wanting to fall out of his grasp despite knowing he wouldn’t dare drop you even if he commanded to. “I thought something bad happened,” he confessed, “when Sunwoo came to me and told me you had left the ballroom, I thought someone had hurt you.”

“No, nothing like that happened,” you assured him, urging him to let you go. Just looking at his relieved face made your heart begin to race again, though this time marathons weren't the only thing that it was running. “My mother was trying to set me up with his prince from another kingdom and instead of doing as she said me and Chanhee ran for it out the room.”

“Why would you do that?” Juyeon questioned, stepping away from you in disbelief. “The queen, she’ll be furious when she sees you again. The king— your father, what will father say about you running away?”

“Juyeon I don’t care about what they think, haven’t you noticed by now?” you argued, your hands beginning to tremble at the rising tension between the two of you, “they can’t just force me to pick a boy from that gathering when I didn’t even bother to learn their names. When none of them are you.”

Juyeon thought to himself for a moment, letting your words sink and replay inside his brain. “When none of them were… me?”

“I wish I had realized before they even had a chance to plan the ball but I just have the worst timing possible,” You admitted, thinking back to all the very clear signs of your growing feelings for Juyeon that you had avoided. “I think I fell in love with you, Juyeon. Not think, actually, I know I have.”

“You’re serious?” Juyeon questioned, unsure if he had even heard you right. When you nodded your head to give him confirmation, he pulled you closer to him with warning, his eyes growing wide like the full moon that was hanging above the two of you. “You’re not joking at all, no tricks, no teasing, you’re being one hundred percent serious with me right now?”

“Of course!” You exclaim, grabbing him by the shoulders with a beaming smile etching across your face. “I’ve never been so sure about something in my entire life. Why do you think I asked you to train me in the first place a few months back, because I was just trying to use your skill set to my advantage? I know I have the reputation of being desperate for sword fighting, but Juyeon I was in love with you! I was just using the training as a way to figure my feelings or not.”

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” he confessed to you. “I wanted you to like me back, but Sunwoo and Younghoon didn’t want me to get my hopes over a fruitless crush. They told me that pursuing you wouldn’t work, because I didn’t have a decent enough background for me to even compare to anyone else. I mean, you’re a princess! I’m just barely a knight, I’m a blacksmith’s son, Y/N, not some high ranking noble from across the land. I have no connections, no power, no money, nothing to give you in return for your affection.”

“Juyeon,” you respond, confusion crossing your face at his words. Did he really think you wouldn’t like him just because his status was up to the standards of the king and queen? He thought you cared about things like that?

“I have nothing to offer you,” Juyeon whispered, holding your hands in his as gently as possible. It was if he thought he’d let go of you now he’d wake up from this dream like scenario you two were in, where you were no longer in his arms and in a place he could not reach. “There’s nothing I could even dream of giving to you.”

You can’t help but smile at his words, removing your hands from his and cupping his face instead. He didn’t even flinch at your touch, only turning a crimson red at your next few words. “Why do you think that matters? None of that matters to me, it never has. You could be a poor boy from a family of farmers and I’d still fall in love with you.”

“But your parents—“ he tried to argue with you.

“They mean nothing to me,” you assure him, pulling his face towards yours as you whisper, “they may be able to control this kingdom to their will, but they can’t control who exactly I fall in love with. They couldn’t even control my urge to learn sword fighting and that’s an interest I’ve had since I was a child.”

“I hate you so much,” Juyeon laughed, the words he spoke not carrying the same weight thanks to his jittery and hopeful tone. He was happy, happy to know that you felt the same way about him and that you didn’t care for anything of the things that should have been hindering your feelings for him.

“Clearly you do,” you tease in response, “you haven’t even attempted to kiss me yet.”

You didn’t need to tell Juyeon twice. He gave you one small kiss on the forehead, pulling away as fast as he registered what he had done in that moment. It felt illegal to be kissing a princess after being told countless times that trying to pursue you was a horrible idea. Though you didn’t give him any time to try and open his mouth as you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him back, grabbing onto his shirt collar and pulling him close.

His eyes fluttered closed immediately, smiling against your lips as he brushed his thumb against your cheek. “Does this mean I get to become king if I end up marrying you,” Juyeon questioned, his tone lightheartedly as he stopped for a moment.

You didn’t even open your eyes as you pulled him back towards you again, a sly grin prevalent on your face as you whispered to him. “Only if you finish the sword fighting lessons we started,” you teased, “maybe then I’ll consider making you my king.”

353 notes · View notes

certifiedmarkleetrash · 4 years ago

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songs that make me feel like a main character (includes kpop)

*I made this playlist on spotify, I know I could link it, but I know some of these songs do not tickle everyone’s fancy. ALSO, I listen to a wide range of music (kpop, pop, rock, etc., so its kind of everywhere*

*added the Spotify link*

Please feel free to suggest songs that make you feel like a main character, I would love to listen to them!

I may or may not get some of these songs off of tik tok and if you work at Aeropostale, you might recognize a lot of these songs

I will add new songs too!

Girls in Bikinis - Poppy

12345SEX- UPSAHL

Zombie (English Ver.) - DAY6

Afraid -DAY6

1 to 10 - DAY6

Love me or Leave me - DAY6

Day and Night - DAY6

Stay Tonight - Chungha

Lies - Will Jay

Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

Electric Love - BORNS (yes I know the dude is problematic but this song is a main character bop)

Dark Paradise (Parov Stelar Remix) - Lana Del Rey, Parov Stelar

Wildflower - 5SOS

No Shame - 5SOS

Role Model - Phoenix

On My Own - 3LAU, Nevve

In Degrees - Foals

No Going Back - Yuno

Fading Youth - Punctual

Maybe You’re the Reason - The Japanese House

The Hype - LEISURE

All For Us - Labrinth, Zendaya

Sundress - A$AP Rocky

Dang! - Mac Miller, Anderson .Paak

Ladders - Mac Miller

Best Friend - Sofi Tukker, NERVO, The Knocks, et al.

Swan Song - Dua Lipa

Rocket Girl - Lemaitre, Betty Who

Graffiti - CHVRCHES

I Think I’m OKAY - Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD, Travis Barker

So What - LOONA

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

Sexy, Free & Single - Super Junior

The Chaser - INFINITE

Treat People With Kindness - Harry Styles

That’s The Way It Is - Daniel Lanois

She - Harry Styles

To Be So Lonely - Harry Styles

Falling - Harry Styles

Psycho - Red Velvet

Adore You - Harry Styles

Watermelon Sugar - Harry Styles

Golden - Harry Styles

But, Honestly - Foo Fighters

Spark - Taeyeon

365247 - DAY6

Deep In Love - DAY6

It’s Okay To Cry - SOPHIE

Lights Up - Harry Styles

My Body - Young the Giant

False God - Taylor Swift

I Forgot That You Existed - Taylor Swift

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince - Taylor Swift

The Archer - Taylor Swift

WHO DO U LOVE? - Monsta X, French Montana

FACE - Woosung

Best Part - DAY6

Wanna Go Back - DAY6

Time of Our Life - DAY6

Awkward Silence - Stray Kids

Illusion - ATEEZ

CROOKED - GDRAGON

Don’t Need Your Love - NCT Dream, HRVY

ME - CLC

gogobebe - Mamamoo

Bon Bon Chocolat - EVERGLOW

Photograph - Def Leppard

Butterfly - LOONA

WANT - Taemin (bop of 2019, fight me)

We Must Love - ONF (stan ONF you cowards)

Youth of the Nation - P.O.D.

Don’t Blame Me - Taylor Swift

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Sassy Me - Red Velvet

My My My! - Troye Sivan

Anybody Out There - Young Mister

Bloom - Troye Sivan

Shout - Tears For Fears

We Are The World - U.S.A. For Africa (can we do a reprise of this for the pandemic PLEASE)

Hysteria - Def Leppard

Livin’ On A Prayer - Bon Jovi

Don’t You (Forget About Me) - Simple Minds

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic - The Police

Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears

Woman - BoA

Replay (PM 01:27) - NCT 127

1, 2. 3! - Seungri (I hate you seungri, rot in prison, I also hate you put a bop this good)

SEE SEA - Hyolyn

NANANA - IMFACT

I’m Not Afraid - Holland (stan Holland YOU COWARDS)

BLUE MOON - Kyeongri

1, 2, 3 - NCT Dream

Beautiful Feeling - DAY6

Naughty Boy - PENTAGON (okay but who else cried rtk ep 3)

Seesaw - Suga of BTS

Euphoria - Jungkook of BTS

HANN (Alone) - (G)-IDLE

Youngblood - 5SOS

Now or Never - SF9 (bop of 2018 I will fight you on this)

Taking Off - ONE OK ROCK

What’s Good - SVT Rap Unit

Take What You Want - ONE OK ROCK, 5SOS

SUNSET - Kim Donghan

Better Better - DAY6

Feeling Good - DAY6

We Are - ONE OK ROCK

Something New - Taeyeon

Forever Young - BLACKPINK

Take Me Higher - A.C.E.

Spotlight - Pristin V

Good Evening - SHINee

Needing/Getting - OK Go

This Too Shall Pass - OK Go

Call Your Name - JBJ

Trigger - VIXX

Shine - Pentagon (okay but also bop of 2018, and ptg should of gotten their first win with this song, ROBBED)

Egoist - Olivia Hye of LOONA, Jinsoul of LOONA

LIKEY - Twice

I Wait - DAY6

I Smile - DAY6

I Loved You - DAY6

INTRO: Neo Got My Back - NCT

BOSS - NCT U

THANKS - Seventeen

Bad Boy - Red Velvet

LOVE SCENARIO - iKON

Take The Dive - Jonghyun

Heroine - Sunmi

Greedy - Ariana Grande

She Is - Jonghyun

Born Hater - Epik High, Beenzino, Verbal Jint, et al.

Run Away With Me - Carly Rae Jepsen

new - Yves of LOONA

I Just - Red Velvet

Crazy Sexy Cool - ASTRO

Callin’ - A.C.E.

ON/OFF - ONF (stan [and I cannot emphasize this enough] ONF you cOwArDs)

I’M THE ONE - MXM

MOVE - Taemin

Sting - Stellar

You & I - One Direction

Ride - Lana Del Rey

Pied Piper - BTS

Like This - Pentagon

Don’t Know You - HEIZE

LOVE ME LOVE ME - WINNER

Story of My Life - One Direction

Act My Age - One Direction

Clouds - One Direction

Night Changes - One Direction

Girl Almighty - One Direction

Don’t Hold Me - DMEANOR, Swings

What U Do? - EXO

You Better Know - Red Velvet

View - SHINee

Singing In The Rain - Jinsoul of LOONA

Long Road to Ruin - Foo Fighters

My Hero - Foo Fighters

Will - Jeong Jinwoon, Tiger JK

Really Really - WINNER

I - Taeyeon, Verbal Jint

Why - Taeyeon

WAKE ME UP - B.A.P.

I Got Love - Taeyeon

Deepened - Brave Girls

Learn to Fly - Foo Fighters

Walk - Foo Fighters

Everlong - Foo Fighters

Into the New World - SNSD

Wheels - Foo Fighters

Come on Get Higher - Matt Nathanson

Wonderwall - Oasis

Alone - Heart

Home Sweet Home - Motley Crue

God is a woman - Ariana Grande

Maker - Big Wild

Me and Michael - MGMT

Are You Bored Yet? - Wallows, Clairo

God’s Menu - Stray Kids

fever dream - mxmtoon

Prom Queen - Beach Bunny

Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

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monkeydlesbian · 4 years ago

Note

time to ship your moots!

*rubs hands together like a little fruit fly* OKAY!

@catchmewiddershins + sukuna: it just. it makes sense. we talk about yuujikuna 🤝 all the time and it even works out bc i get yuuji she gets sukuna. clings to his arm like a little parasite as he looks down at her like she IS one but he LOVES HER TO DEATH DONT BE FOOLED. she loves to tease him and be like I Bet You Wouldnt Kiss Me Right Now. You’re Too Weak. and he’d take the bait like a goddamn fool.

@sems-diarie + bakugou: SEMS KEEPS KATSUKI ON HIS MF TOES!!! she might be just a Leetle bratty but he’s only lying to himself when he says she’s annoying 🙄 he’s so soft for her tho,,,, he let’s her get away with MURDER (as he should) sems is so soft and bakugou looks a little scary and when you see them in public it’s like How Is This Possible but that’s what makes them even cuter.

@shintaroo + bokuto: come on. Come On. it just makes sense. they’re so bright and pure and fundamentally GOOD THEY HAVE TO BE TOGETHER. bokuto genuinely never leaves her alone.... he is literally so enamored with her i know it I JUST KNOW IT. mari actually does need air when they kiss but that isn’t bokuto’s problem 🙌

@marviess + levi: listen i don’t even WATCH attack on titan but have u seen her and her levi anon interact?????????? what the fuck??? that’s love. that is literal love and u can’t tell me otherwise. he is so soft for her??? levi is a scary man but march breaks him down a lil and she makes it difficult for him to keep up this terrifying captain act he’s got going on 😩

@gg9183 + konoha: every day i think about gracinori. every day i think about them. they are so goddamn ANNOYING with how cute they are. they’re the couple u see on the street that makes u HATE being single, because they look so ENAMORED with each other. he’s such a tease and he pulls so much shit to fluster her but OH HO HO! miss gracie has a few tricks up her sleeves herself. mr and mrs jack of all trades 😏

@meliorist-midoriya + midoriya: i literally wouldn’t have said this if they genuinely weren’t perfect for each other. believe it or not i am NOT saying this to kiss kelley’s ass 😁 but her and midoriya just fit together so well I CANT BELIEVE IT every time i think of izukel i lose my mind. they help each other with homework and midoriya indulges in her love for plants. that is love.

@tetsusaki + kuroo: me and mila Just became moots like two goddamn days ago but call milatsu mr and mrs worldwide or something bc they are THEE couple!! they’re so hot together and mila is a little hotter than kuroo but it’s ok bc she still loves him 💔 she loves him despite the fact he started investing before he even left high school and THATS when u know they’re meant to be. kuroo is one lucky mf

@kekozume + kenma: i won’t lie the two of them scare me. feral vibes they are batshit insane together but that’s why they WORK!!! i see the two of them staying up until 4 am doing absolute jackshit together. she was fearless and crazier than him. she was his queen, and god help anyone who dared to disrespect his queen👺 yeah but kenma has the biggest soft spot for ami and i can just imagine the two of them lounging around together.... it’s SO CUTE!!

@alto-march-of-death + tsukishima: al my fav tsukki fucker. they are MEANT TO BE u don’t understand like. he’s so snarky but then she snaps back with a little snark of her own and he’s like so this is love.... tsukki might be a little bitch sometimes and tease her a lot but he LOVES HER!!!!! literally so much he can’t even deny it when his friends tease him. he’s so whipped for al and can u blame him 🙄🙄

#fyfa answers #anon #moots ☀︎︎#the way u sent this ask and i literally couldn’t think of a single one of my moots #i actually ship all of my mutuals with myself so jot that down #if i forget someone i will combust spontaneously. love and light <3

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 12 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: HELLO i am so sorry that this took me so long :((((( but it’s here now! welcome to strictly au 12!! this isn’t the last chapter, there’s 2 more to come after this, but aaaah how mad that we’re almost coming to an end!!! hope u all enjoy this chapter, it’s MUSICALS WEEK!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

27th November, 2020

The bursting open of the rehearsal room door makes Vanessa jump, her head jolting off its position on Brooke’s shoulder from where they’re both slumped against the mirrored wall, having glugged the contents of their water bottles after a full run of this week’s dance. Her racing and paranoid heart, however, relaxes instantly when Monique and Monet strut obnoxiously into the room.

“Hey hey hey!” Monique greets them both, way too fresh and bouncy and cheery for Vanessa’s exhausted self.

“What’s with the fuckin’ SWAT team entrance? You the sex police now, is that what this is?” Vanessa deadpans, and Monet gives a chuckle as she loops an arm around Monique’s and makes her go all shy.

“It’s not Strictly Cum Dancing,” she sticks her tongue out, and as Brooke splutters Vanessa snorts.

“Strictly Come Boning,” Monique chips in. Vanessa can feel Brooke narrowing her eyes beside her.

“Your girlfriend’s was better,” she retorts, and Vanessa watches as the two of them visibly baulk. She digs Brooke very firmly and squarely in the ribs, realising a little too late that that was probably entirely too visible. They’ve not had that conversation yet. Neither have her and Brooke. That’s okay though. They’re focusing on the competition. It’s not like the only thing Vanessa wants with every iota of her being is to call Brooke officially hers.

“What’d you two come to bug us about anyhow?” she not so much segues but handbrake turns, steering the conversation off the cliff Brooke’s hanging the metaphorical car off of.

“You eaten?” Monique asks with a shrug. “Me n’ Mo were gonna go try that new Mexican that opened up round the corner. You know, where the old burger place used to be?”

“Well anything’ll be a step up from gettin’ shut down by environmental health.”

“Shit, what happened?” Brooke’s face contorts in horror. Her eyes open up all wide, eyebrows fly up to her hairline. Every expression she pulls suits her, makes her look even more adorable than usual. Even when she’s sad, though Vanessa would do everything in her power to stop Brooke from ever feeling that way ever again.

“Lil’ rat shits through the plastic cheese slices. Shame, ‘cause their chilli cheese fries were awesome,” Monique pouts, and Monet fixes her with a quizzical eyebrow.

“You’d really risk getting bubonic plague for a basket of damn fries?”

Monique looks incredulously at her. “Babe, you never ate them. You don’t know what you missed out on.”

“Much as I’m heartbroken that I too won’t get to taste food seasoned with rat shit anytime soon, no, we’ve not eaten. And I’m quite hungry, so I’m down to grab food,” Brooke interjects, before they can entertain this conversational topic any further.

So they end up all leaving for lunch together- the shared and mutual understanding between the four of them that they all want to hold their girls’ hand, or curl their pinkies together, or slide an arm around their waist unspoken and yet deafening. It’s nice to get out of the studio for a bit, though. She and Brooke have been putting so much effort into their dance this week- a Waltz- and they both want it to be perfect.

“Just like you,” Brooke had said, before tapping Vanessa gently on the nose and setting off a spark in her stomach.

They reach the restaurant and all crush round formica tables on chairs with wobbly legs and gossip and chat and vent. It’s nice to see Brooke and Monet getting along so well- Vanessa knows Brooke was close with Yvie and now she only really has Jackie as her other celebrity friend in the competition, so it’s nice to see the beginnings of a friendship blossom between her and Monet. As she listens to Monet and Monique bicker about their choreography this week Vanessa secretly keeps her eyes on Brooke, catching little moments that she knows Brooke won’t even remember but Vanessa will secretly treasure; the way Brooke brings both hands up to hide her teeth when she laughs, the way her eyebrows draw together minutely when she’s concentrating on whoever’s speaking, the way she picks up each of the nachos she’s ordered delicately with her thumb and index finger leaving the rest to fan out into the air like a bird’s wings.

Vanessa feels as if she’s been living a dream all week. She’s nervous, because she knows there’s only an amount of time until she wakes up from it. Knowing Brooke likes her back and getting to share little moments with her is like the feeling of being wrapped in a cosy duvet- safe, secure and calm, and it seems like everything is too good to be true. She’s trying to enjoy their time together though, really drinking in every moment just in case it’s ripped away from her at any time.

As if she’s able to read her mind, Monique points at her and furrows her brow. “So who d’you think’s going home tomorrow?”

Vanessa flinches, because she hasn’t thought about it. Doesn’t want to think about it. Despite their high scores last week Vanessa knows that out of the five of them that’re left, it’s the other couples that the judges seem to favour. She knows how heavily she and Brooke rely on their fans to get them through (they’ve done two Insta lives this week as a thank you) and how it’s been a few times that they haven’t got the scores they’ve deserved.

So she swallows the nerves that Monique’s question has triggered and shrugs, pokes her tongue out at her friend. “You, with any luck. Won’t have to listen to you bang on about how hot you think Monet is all the damn time.”

Monique almost chokes on her burrito and Brooke and Monet roar a laugh. When she collects herself, she’s pointing an accusatory finger Vanessa’s way.

“Well screw you, bitch! I hope you break a leg for real,” she jokes at her, and Vanessa smiles smugly back at her in response.

“It’ll be Gigi and Jackie in the bottom, leaving us, Akeira and Asia sailing through to the semis,” Monet nods her head, convinced. Vanessa wishes she had the same levels of confidence. “You three are the most talented pros, it makes sense.”

“Aw! Thanks baby boo,” Monique smiles at her, charmed. Monet cocks an eyebrow at her.

“You, barely. You’re there by the skin of your teeth. Akeria’s Mutya, Vanjie’s Keisha. You’re Heidi Range.”

Vanessa and Brooke burst out laughing at Monet’s niche Sugababes reference, and Monique yelps in protest beside her. As talk turns to girlbands, the thought of elimination is forgotten for now.

That is, until lunch is over and Vanessa and Brooke are arriving back in the studio, and Vanessa lets out a nervous sigh which Brooke quickly picks up on.

“Hey,” her forehead wrinkles, crossing over to take both of Vanessa’s hands. Brooke’s are cold from the icy air outside but the gesture still manages to make Vanessa feel a little warmer, a little slice of July on a November day. “Talk. Speak.”

Vanessa lets out a soft chuckle at Brooke’s orders and as she looks up and meets her kind eyes, she lets her worries out. “I’m just rattled. Mo got me thinkin’…we really are gettin’ down to the wire now, an’ everyone left is so talented. What happens if we gotta dance again tomorrow?”

“Then everyone gets treated to the best Waltz that’s ever graced Elstree two times instead of once,” Brooke shoots back instantly, making the knot in Vanessa’s stomach begin to unravel. “If fact I think all our fans are going to vote for other people just so they can see it done twice.”

“God, don’t say that,” Vanessa shakes her head and half-groans, half-laughs. She sinks her body against Brooke’s, wraps her arms around her waist and lets out a shaky exhale. “I’m never nervous when I dance, but I’m gonna be nervous this time, you know? I just don’t want to let you down.”

Brooke splutters a disbelieving laugh. “A world Latin champion is telling her TV presenter partner that she doesn’t want to let her down. We are truly through the looking glass.”

“Shut up,” Vanessa mutters against Brooke’s chest, looking up at her and seeing the little twinkle in her eye that flips her stomach.

“Make me.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at her before leaning in and meeting her lips in a soft kiss, Brooke greedily deepening it after a few seconds and pressing their bodies close. Vanessa feels a pleasant wave of heat wash over her and, as she slides her arms round to rest on Brooke’s hips, she’s reminded about their morning in Blackpool, something she’s thought about constantly since it happened. They haven’t had a round two since, they’ve both been too focused on wanting to do well. Still…maybe they need a way to let off steam, and Vanessa’s beginning to wonder if all the hassle she’s given Monique over hooking up in the rehearsal room has been justified given how much she’d risk getting walked in on by a camera crew for Brooke’s tongue to be back between her legs-

And then Brooke breaks away, strokes her cheek with her thumb from where her hand’s cupping her jaw and winks at her. “Kissing’s not going to get us those tens, sweetie. Let’s get to work.”

So, obediently and only somewhat reluctantly, Vanessa rehearses. Their dance means a lot to her this week, even though it’s musicals week and they aren’t really her thing. She’s never seen Waitress- she’s not seen many musicals- but Jan, self-confessed queen of musicals week had a playlist on the speakers last year and a song in particular had come on which prompted Vanessa to ask for its name. It reminds her of her, little Vanessa starting out at dance school thousands of miles away from the rest of her family, and her Mama who’s always supported her through everything she’s ever done. And now it reminds her of Brooke, too. All the good things in her life and all the dreams that have somehow managed to come true. She knows that full marks are the highest they can get, but she still wants more. The pressure she’s heaping on herself is crushing, but it’s good because it helps her concentrate. She wants to do her best for Brooke. She cares about her so much that she finds it a little bit dangerous.

Saturday rolls around in mere hours, and the day passes as a blur. Vanessa bites the skin around her nails so much that she bleeds and Brooke chastises her, goes to find plasters from the medics. She’s so nervous that she can’t even enjoy roasting Monique and Monet about the fact they’re dressed entirely as nuns (a Charleston to Sunday Morning Fever) or find hope in the fact that Gigi’s hands are shaking as she practises her hand jive with Crystal. She moves through the pro dance in a daze, not even the fact that it’s all being broadcast live affecting her. The pro dance is simply an inconvenience, something she needs to get through before the main event.

And then, thank God, they’re dancing first. She doesn’t need to wait too long before they’re both sitting on their set- the countertop of a diner, soft blue lights illuminating the studio- and finally, the commentator’s voice can be heard overhead.

“Dancing the Waltz…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

Vanessa already feels emotional as the guitar strums out through the studio, filling the silent room with its warm sounds as Vanessa rolls her neck one way then the other, catching Brooke’s eyes.

“Sugar…sugar, butter…flour…”

Resting a palm against the blue countertop, Vanessa presses against the flecks of glitter that have been sprinkled there by the prop department and brings her arm softly over her head, letting the sparkling silver flecks scatter over her as Brooke mirrors her movements too. They do the same with the other arm; soft, slow movements that Vanessa takes her time over because this dance is precious to her and she doesn’t ever really want it to be over. Vanessa looks at Brooke and they share a smile, blowing a handful of glitter at each others’ faces just like they’d practised in rehearsal over and over.

“Sometimes I still see her…my mother, the dreamer…she’d say nothing’s impossible, child…”

Brooke lowers herself off the counter, picks Vanessa up on the last beat with her strong arms holding her waist. Vanessa pushes down on Brooke’s shoulders to elongate her frame as Brooke spins her around, then gently deposits her on her feet. Their foreheads are pressed together as Vanessa takes Brooke’s hand and they end up in hold; one elbow bent, the other slightly extended out in front of them as they hold hands. Brooke keeps her other hand on her back and Vanessa rests hers on Brooke’s forearm as they move across the ballroom.

“A dream needs believing…to taste like the real thing…like some stranger you recognize…”

The movements come to naturally to them both, their feet meeting and stepping in the classic 1-2-3, 1-2-3 style, and Vanessa’s sad she can’t turn and face Brooke, can’t look her in the eyes with adoration like she wants to on that last line because it’s crazy; this BBC One presenter that started out as some cute girl that flirted with her on the induction day has become someone Vanessa cherishes and cares for so much, and all from the fact fate put them together to dance as part of a TV show.

“So pure…so pure, so electric, so sure…so sure, so connected…”

They both extend out from each other then Brooke twirls Vanessa across to the other side of her, the little skater skirt on her diner costume kicking out into a perfect circle. They then do the same again- out, in, twirl across, swaying together like calm waters.

“To those little believers inside…”

As Vanessa meets Brooke and their bodies end up pressed together, she extends her leg up in a long, slow kick and keeps her other leg steady as she balances on the ball of her foot. Brooke walks her round with her arm around her waist, and their eye contact has a level of depth Vanessa’s not sure she’s shared with anyone she’s ever danced with before. There’s something more to it- this is more than a routine, it’s Vanessa expressing everything that Brooke makes her feel because at this point she’s Vanessa’s dream, her dream come true.

“May we all be…so lucky…”

Back into hold again, and the pair of them cross the floor in the same 1-2-3, 1-2-3 that they’ve practised so many times now. Vanessa wants to rest her head against Brooke’s shoulder, throw all tradition to one side if only to be closer to her for a little moment.

“But dreams are elusive…”

Vanessa twirls from hold to rest her hands on Brooke’s hips, and Brooke places her hands on her back as she spins Vanessa around in her arms, her feet working overtime as Vanessa extends her legs and points her toes.

“The kind we’ve gotten used to is nothing I can feel, nothing I can hold, nothing I can have, nothing that I know…”

They come to a stop; both facing forward, with Brooke’s arms around Vanessa’s shoulders and Vanessa gently holding her hands as Brooke pulls away, stepping back (two, three), back (two, three) away from her, and Vanessa finds herself involuntarily tearing up because even though it’s just a dance, for Christ’s sake, it still hits too close to home; that feeling of Brooke leaving, the thought of whatever it is they have fizzling out once the competition is over being just too painful to even contemplate.

“Dreams come and they…go…”

Vanessa whips around and runs to Brooke, jumping to her and wrapping her legs around her waist and her arms around her back as Brooke spins her around again.

“But hold them and keep them…and know that you need them…”

Back into waltz hold, and at this point Vanessa is unsure how she can see with the tears misting up her vision, lucky she’s not needed to look at her feet to dance since very probably 2008. Just like it had done in the dress rehearsal there’s silver confetti and glitter raining down upon them, and Vanessa wants to bottle how she feels right now, this equilibrium of nostalgia and sorrow and happiness.

“When your breaking point’s all that you have…a dream is a soft place to land.”

They walk slowly and carefully over to the diner counter they began their dance on, swinging their entwined hands in time to the strum of the guitar. Brooke reaches the counter and sweeps the rest of the glitter away with a perfectly straight arm, clearing the surface before she pushes onto it and hoists herself back up with pointed feet.

“May we all be…so lucky…”

Vanessa joins Brooke sitting on the countertop and they finish with Vanessa resting one hand on top of Brooke’s and bringing the other up to cup her jaw gently, pressing their foreheads together again and reminding Vanessa all too much of kissing her. She wants to so much, but she settles for bringing her lips as close as she can to Brooke’s without touching as they both close their eyes.

“Sugar, butter…flour.”

When Vanessa’s eyes open, they’re filled with tears. Brooke’s green ones are the same, and Vanessa lets out a laugh of relief as the audience’s cheers fill the air. They both did the dance justice, and they did themselves proud. As they hop off the countertop and hold each other in a tight hug Vanessa tells Brooke as much, and Brooke nuzzles her head in the crook of her neck kissing her once, twice, three times.

Michelle calls them over excitedly and interviews Brooke. All the while Vanessa can feel her heart going like a freight train, so full of affection and pride for Brooke but so full of anticipation and nerves for what the judges will say. And as Michelle comes to Bianca first, Vanessa holds her breath.

Bianca moves her papers around on her desk, and if Vanessa had been in a chair she’d be on the edge of it. Bianca pauses, looks up, finally opens her mouth to speak. “Well that, I thought, was beautiful.”

Vanessa flinches as Brooke punches the air beside her, then brings her arm round to wrap around Vanessa’s waist in an excited hug. Vanessa is bouncing on the balls of her feet in happiness. Is it too much to hope for another forty a week after their first one?

“Your timing was excellent, the emotional connection you both have is just unparalleled, everything was just so very clean and beautiful. Unfortunately…”

The audience starts booing in anticipation of Bianca’s next comments, and Vanessa’s heart sinks.

“…I can’t give you a perfect score for this Waltz, because there were a lot of Contemporary elements in there. They were beautiful, and I did love the dance! But sadly, not really a pure Waltz. But you should still be very proud of yourself, Brooke Lynn, well done.”

Vanessa tried to make the smile on her face seem genuine as the audience clapped Bianca’s comments and the spotlight moved to Shangela.

“Yeah, um…” Shangela began, her face set in a frown of concern which made Vanessa’s guts twist. There was a pause as she looked down at her desk, then back up at Brooke. “I mean, Brooke Lynn, you know I love you, girl, and there’s absolutely no denying that dance was gorgeous…however…”

The audience begin booing again as if they’re at a pantomime, and Vanessa can feel all the perfect little pieces of choreography she’d spent so much time on and worked so hard on slowly crumble to dust.

“…as Bianca said, it’s a hard one to judge because you know I love my Ballroom, and that wasn’t…really…a Waltz? But whatever it was, it was very beautiful. I just hope that it doesn’t put you in a precarious position tonight.”

And with that comment, Vanessa’s whole world freezes over.

Worry consumes her. She can hear Kennedy and Laganja speak, see their lips move, hear the audience laugh at some joke Laganja makes, but nothing registers in her brain. Shangela’s last sentence just repeats on a loop in her head. It doesn’t stop as she and Brooke make their way up to the Divinatorium, as they’re interviewed by Divina, and as the camera pans to the judges. Vanessa feels sick as Bianca holds up her paddle.

“Nine!”

Shangela holds up hers. “Eight!”

“Nine!” Kennedy smiles.

“Nina!” Laganja agrees.

Thirty five. They’ve dropped five marks since last week, and it’s nowhere near what they should be scoring at this stage of the competition.

Vanessa is frightened.

Brooke is smiling at the scores but by the way her grip tightens around Vanessa’s waist she can tell something is wrong, and by the time they get backstage Vanessa can barely hold back the tears that are dotting her lower lashes.

“Woah, woah,” Brooke stops her, takes both her hands and steps close to her as Vanessa sniffs uncontrollably. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa whispers out, heartbroken. “I should’ve just kept it to a normal Waltz…if we have to dance again it’ll be all my fault…”

“Hey. Listen to me,” Brooke says sternly, dropping one of Vanessa’s hands to point at her. “What did I tell you in Blackpool?”

Vanessa, even though she’s upset and scared, can’t help the little twinkle that leaps into her eyes. “You told me a lot of things in Blackpool, ‘specially in that hotel room.”

“Christ, stop talking. I’m trying to be serious here,” Brooke exhales a laugh, looking at the floor bashfully. “Before we danced and you got nervous. I said that this isn’t about the competition for me anymore. It’s about getting to dance with you and see you every day. I meant that, ‘Ness. If we have to do that dance again, then we go out and we have the best time doing it, especially if it could be our last time. I don’t want you being upset. You know if you start crying it’s only a matter of time before I join you.”

Vanessa sniffs, wipes at her tears delicately with one finger. “I guess part of me is so sad because…if we get knocked out then I don’t get to see you every day any more. You’ll go back to bein’ busy at work, an’ I’ll still have pro rehearsals…we’ll just fall out of touch and drift apart.”

“Excuse me? Who the hell says?!” Brooke laughs in incredulity, and her outrage makes Vanessa’s spirits lift a little. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. God, Vanessa, I care about you so much. If you think all this is for me is just a random hookup while I learn to fucking two-step then you’re so far from the truth.”

Vanessa’s heart gives a flutter and a huge thud which sets her pulse off racing. She wants to ask Brooke what the truth is for her, what she means by all this, but there’s already too much happening tonight and Christ, if there’s ever a time that she needs to focus on the competition, it’s probably now. So instead she looks up at Brooke from under her lashes, composes herself and smiles softly at her.

“That’s not at all what this is for me either.”

Brooke squeezes her hands, smiles back at her gently. “Well. Good.”

Then, darting her eyes up and down the corridor, she leans in and plants a soft kiss to Vanessa’s forehead. Vanessa closes her eyes and smiles, until she opens them and sees Brooke recoiling in horror.

“Fuck. I forgot I was wearing lipstick.”

Vanessa splutters a laugh, rubs furiously at her forehead and inspects the heel of her hand where there’s a bright red smudge as if she’s squashed an insect.

“Dummy. Guess we better get ourselves to makeup.”

It’s easy to forget about the prospect of the dance off when she’s mucking around in makeup with the girls and Brooke, or when she’s watching the other girls dance in the Divinatorium, or when she’s performing her second pro dance to be broadcast on Sunday’s results show. But when the couples all gather on stage again to stand under their single spotlights and the results are imminent, well. It’s frankly impossible for Vanessa’s heart to stop racing, for her mouth to be any more dry, for her stomach to stop flipping over and over and over again as if it’s on a wash and dry cycle. Michelle opens her mouth and Vanessa’s nerves shoot through the roof.

“Couples, I can now reveal who is going through to the semi-finals…and who will be dancing to stay in the competition another week.”

The studio lights go down and envelop everything their spotlight doesn’t touch in shadows, and Vanessa immediately feels as if she’s five years old and scared of the dark all over again. She’s got one hand around Brooke’s waist and the other holding the hand Brooke’s slung over her shoulder, and she can feel both their palms slick with sweat as Brooke grips her hand tightly.

“The first couple safe and through to the semi-final is…”

The drum beat rings out into Elstree, and it is as if time stands still. Vanessa feels as if she’s frozen, her fate hanging in the balance of a presenter and an earpiece.

Dum-tsh-tsh, dum-tsh-tsh, dum-tsh-tsh…

“Gigi and Crystal!”

Vanessa’s heart plummets as she claps and smiles tightly. She’s happy for Crystal. She’s happy for her friend. Of course she was going to get this far, she’s one of the best pros in the competition. But this means that now there’s less chance of Vanessa, Akeria and Monique all being in the semis together. Vanessa tries to take a deep breath but it comes in all shaky and paper-thin instead.

“The next couple safe and with a place in the semi-finals is…”

She feels Brooke take her arm and squeeze it. It’s the action that reassures her that she hasn’t, in fact, gone numb. Vanessa feels as if she’s disconnected from her body, floating high above it like she’s on morphine. If this place goes to Jan and Jackie, it means the three of them won’t get to keep going together. And that’s a horrible thought.

“…Jan and Jackie!”

As Jan screams in delight and jumps up and down on the steps, Vanessa wants to scream for a very different reason. She looks over at Monet and Monique as she claps, her gaze meeting Monique’s in a similarly mournful expression.

Love you, Vanessa mouths. Monique says it back.

“Okay, Akeria and Asia…Monet and Monique…Brooke Lynn and Vanessa. That means there is only one guaranteed place left in the semi finals. I’m now going to say the name of the couple earning that place, and the remaining two will be dancing for survival. The last couple through to next week…is…”

Dum-tsh-tsh, dum-tsh-tsh, dum-tsh-tsh. Vanessa feels herself tremble in her character shoes. She can feel Brooke gripping her hand with such intensity and perhaps it would’ve hurt if her whole body wasn’t completely filled with adrenaline, anticipation, hope and fear. Vanessa can hear the minute catch in Michelle’s throat as she goes to speak and every muscle in her body tenses up.

“Monet and Monique!”

Fuck.

A lot happens at once. Their white spotlight suddenly flushes them in red, Vanessa feeling like Carrie on prom night. Monet and Monique wrap each other in a hug, the pair of them wearing very relieved but incredibly upset expressions. Vanessa can see tears begin to stream from Monique’s eyes. If she leans forward she can see Akeria looking at her with a grim smile, her body language resigned and deflated.

When Vanessa turns to look at Brooke, she has to take a deep breath to hold back her tears. Brooke instantly wraps her in a cuddle, whispers into her ear.

“It’s not over, babe…it’s not over, don’t worry…we can do this.”

Vanessa breaks away, nodding, and when she goes to hug Monique her friend only ends up sobbing harder. Vanessa knows how she must be feeling, because she’s feeling it too- it would’ve been so amazing to progress the whole way with her two friends all together, and now that one of them is guaranteed to be leaving it hurts badly.

“That means that Akeria and Asia…Brooke Lynn and Vanessa…I’m sorry, you four, but you will be facing the dance off.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Vanessa mutters, hoping all too late that it isn’t picked up by her mic. From the fact that nobody’s given a cataclysmically horrified reaction, she can safely assume it wasn’t.

Michelle announces that Akeria and Asia will be dancing first. They were doing an Argentine Tango, and Vanessa knows how hard it is. She’s so torn. Part of her wants her friend to keep going, to win the whole thing on her behalf. The other part of her selfishly wants her and Brooke to stay in and knock them out, to progress and prove how amazing Brooke is. Not that she’s biased.

As Akeria and Asia take their positions on the dancefloor in their leather jackets and wet-look leggings, Brooke and Vanessa stand to the side, their fingers tangled together as they not so much hold hands but cling to each other. The music begins and so does the girls’ routine.

“This is weird…it’s weird…this is weird…super weird…”

Vanessa gives a bitter, mirthless chuckle. You got that right, song.

“What can we even improve on? Technique wise, we were fine. The judges just didn’t think it was a Waltz,” Brooke frowns at her side, whispering. Vanessa knows she has to put her professional hat on, look at it from a competitive perspective.

“So we gotta make sure we nail the sections in hold. And really amp up the emotion. Which’ll be easy, ‘cuz I feel like my heart’s about to break out of my ass.”

Brooke’s hands fly to her mouth as she covers up her snort of laughter. Vanessa smiles guiltily at her. After a second’s thought, she takes her hand again, gentler this time.

“But most of all…” Vanessa concedes, taking the first properly deep, calming breath she’s been able to manage as all of Brooke’s words from earlier run through her mind. “…we enjoy it. We make the most of it. ‘Cuz if it really is my last dance with you, then it better not be shit.”

Vanessa thinks she sees the shimmer of tears in Brooke’s eyes before she laughs and looks to the floor. “Okay. I promise. It won’t be shit.”

And as the audience clap, Vanessa realises it’s their turn at last. Michelle congratulates Akeria and Asia and wishes her and Brooke luck as they take to the floor and perch on the diner counter that a runner has hastily trundled on.

“Dancing for a place in the semi-finals, please welcome…Brooke Lynn and Vanessa!”

The guitar strums out again as Vanessa rolls her neck one way and then the other.

“Sugar…sugar, butter…flour…”

And their dance is as good the second time round. It’s better, and Vanessa feels more. She completes the entire dance on the precipice of tears, holding tightly to Brooke whenever there’s an opportunity because dreams come and they go, and Vanessa doesn’t want to let go. Brooke’s reassured her thousands of times how much she means to her, and it hits Vanessa with a startling clarity that that means more to her than any title, any competition, any trophy.

When their dance finishes and their foreheads press together, it takes everything in her power not to throw caution to the wind and kiss Brooke, try to communicate everything she feels without speaking, without anything a mic could pick up on. As they grip their hands tightly together and go to join Akeria and Asia in front of the judges’ table, Vanessa can only wrap an arm around Brooke’s waist and use her as an anchor.

“Akeria and Asia and Brooke Lynn and Vanessa have now done all they can. Judges, I’m now going to ask you for the name of the couple you wish to save and put through to next week’s semi final. In the event of a split decision, head judge Shangela, you will have the deciding vote. Good luck to both couples…this is it.”

There’s a pause as Michelle comes to the first judge. “Bianca, who do you want to see in next week’s semi final and why?”

Vanessa can only take a few short, tiny breaths as Bianca replies to Michelle. “I really loved the refreshing fusion of this particular dance, and I thought it was performed very, very well. So the couple I am saving is Brooke Lynn and Vanessa.”

Vanessa feels like deflating in shock. Brooke Lynn leans down to her ear, whispers a see! which she wants to believe with all her heart but there’s still three judges left to vote and she’s not getting complacent yet.

“Kennedy. Coming to you now, who would you like to save?”

Kennedy lets out a huge sigh, as if she’s the one whose future in the competition is being decided. “Honestly, I have to say…this decision gets harder every single week. It really does. You were both brilliant and I loved both performances…but I’m going to save Brooke Lynn and Vanessa.”

Another vote in their favour. Vanessa feels a little as if there’s a knife twisting in her stomach as she looks over at Akeria and Asia, the two girls hanging their heads sadly as they clap for the pair of them.

“Two votes for Brooke Lynn and Vanessa, that means that if Laganja votes to save them they will be going through to next week’s semi final. Laganja, coming to you now. Who would you like to save and why?”

Laganja sucks air in through her teeth. “It truly does get tougher every week, Michelle, but purely based on what I’ve just seen…I have to save Akeria and Asia.”

Vanessa’s heart plummets. She claps for her friend as the vote moves to Shangela, but her pulse is going entirely too fast and her hopes are raised so high and she holds her breath and she holds Brooke’s hand as Shangela begins to speak.

“Well as the others have said, this is a very difficult decision this week, and both dances were outstanding. But for me, it’s a matter of personal taste and I have to go with the couple I felt had the most content…I’m saving Akeria and Asia.”

And it’s done.

Their journey, just like that, is over.

Asia’s mouth is hanging open and Akeria’s hands fly to her face as Vanessa and Brooke clap for them. Vanessa is proud of her friend. She is, she’s not bitter, but she wishes with all her heart things could have been different. Her pulse slows to a gutted, disappointed decline as Michelle confirms what they already know- that she and Brooke Lynn are leaving the competition. Vanessa crosses over to the other couple and, as Brooke hugs Asia in congratulations, Vanessa clings to her friend and grips her in a tight hug.

“Fuck, V…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey. Listen. You an’ Mo are doin’ this for me now too, okay? Go get that fuckin’ crown. You both deserve it so much,” Vanessa mutters back urgently, truly meaning it all. If neither of them win she’s not going to speak to them for a month. She’s kidding. Probably.

Michelle beckons them over as the audience claps and cheers for the pair of them. It’s the exact definition of bittersweet, and Vanessa presses a hand to the small of Brooke’s back as Brooke hugs Michelle with one arm.

“Brooke Lynn, you have been amazing…look at the audience, all on their feet, the judges on their feet…have you enjoyed your time on the show?”

“Oh, goodness, to be here dancing every week…I’ve just truly, truly loved every minute, and I have to say thank you to everyone behind the scenes that makes this show happen, I have literally lived out a dream being here…and I have to thank my dance partner…c’mere-”

With that, Brooke breaks off, turns and hugs her, and Vanessa can feel the lump that’s already in her throat becoming impossible to ignore. She can’t cry; it’s Brooke’s moment, and she can’t take that away from her, but the opportunity to tell the nation how amazing she is overwhelming.

“You’ve been brilliant, and you got to dance with two pros! Not many Strictly stars can say that,” Michelle smiles at Brooke, and Vanessa almost forgets about Plastique. That whole scenario seems so long ago now, and it makes her want to laugh. Michelle casts a hand over to the monitor beside the camera, prompting them both to look. “Here are some of your best bits before you leave us.”

And they watch it all. Vanessa watches little sections of each dance they did intercut with Brooke talking about her own journey- how happy she was when she got partnered with her, how she opened the first show, how their breakthrough dance was Runaway Baby and how things only got better from there. How special Blackpool was (Vanessa gives her a little dig in the ribs in response to that). And then it shows the comments Vanessa has been asked to give about Brooke, where she’d basically just gushed at the camera.

“To me, Brooke Lynn is what Strictly is all about. I’m so proud of her and what she’s achieved…and I can’t put it into words how much I’ve loved being partnered with her. Next year’s partner is gonna have a hard time coming close.”

To finish, production has put a clip of them finishing their Waltz into the final clip of the video, and Brooke’s voice can be heard over it. “It’s been a dream come true doing Strictly…and it’s been a truly magical experience.”

As the clip ends, Michelle turns to them both and directs a question to her. “You’ve been an amazing partnership…Vanessa, what would you like to say to Brooke?”

There’s a beat of silence in which Brooke turns to look at her, and it’s happening- Vanessa can feel the tears burning her eyes. She takes a deep breath, takes both of Brooke’s hands tightly and sighs.

“Oh my God, so much. So much I wanna say…I’ve been sayin’ it all competition but I’m the luckiest girl in the world. I got somethin’ better than the glitterball…I got you, and you were the best,” Vanessa hears her voice crack, and the audience starts to clap and cheer in encouragement. When Vanessa looks back up at Brooke, she sees two black mascara tears running down each cheek. She can’t help but laugh nervously at how ridiculous they must look. “You’ll never know how amazing you made this experience for me…just by being you. So thank you so much. You’re incredible.”

With that she crashes her head against Brooke’s chest, throws her arms around her and tries to hold back the rest of her tears. She can hear Michelle beckoning them onto the dancefloor for one last dance and then reading out the information about next week’s show.

“I wish I could’ve taken you further,” Vanessa sniffs, shaking her head sadly. Brooke’s got a nostalgic sort of smile on her face as she breaks away from the hug and takes Vanessa’s elbow, leading her out onto the dancefloor.

“I wouldn’t change a single thing about any of this,” Brooke squeezes her arm, places both her hands on Vanessa’s hips as Vanessa slides hers around Brooke’s neck. Brooke’s face breaks into a bittersweet grin as she winks at her. “Okay, no more crying. It’s our last dance in Elstree, I don’t want to have to spend it trying to find you a tissue.”

Vanessa bursts out laughing at her joke. For the millionth time that evening, it occurs to her just how much she wants to kiss her in front of everybody.

Michelle announces their last dance and the pair of them begin to step as the music starts. When Vanessa realises what the song is, she throws her head back and laughs at the cheesiness of it all.

“We got a little world of our own, I’ll tell you things that no one else knows, I’ll let you in where no-one else goes…what am I doing without you…”

As the key change kicks in, Brooke picks Vanessa up and spins her around fast, Vanessa squealing happily as Brooke shows off by holding her with only one arm wrapped around her. She still feels safe, though. She always feels safe when she’s with Brooke. And even though their Strictly journey is over, she can’t help but feel excited for the new one they’re about to embark on together- navigating their feelings for each other after the show, which from the way Vanessa is feeling as Brooke smiles at her and looks into her eyes is dangerously close to something she once felt for a different dancer who broke her heart a little while ago.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #background momo #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #akeria davenport #monique heart #monet x change

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menofkpop · 5 years ago

Text

Taemin’s Experience: (this will be a long post)

Solo Albums:

Ace - 8/2014

Press It - 2/2016

Sayonara Hitori - 2016 Japanese

Flame of Love - 7/2017 Japanese

Move - 10/2017

Move-ing - 12/2017 reissued

Taemin - 10/2018 Japanese

Want - 2/2019

Famous - 8/2019 Japanese

4 - OST

"U" (너란 말야)2012 -To the Beautiful You OST

"Steps" (발��음)2014 - Prime Minister and I OST

"Named" (그 이름)(with Jonghyun)2015 - Who Are You: School 2015 OST

"What's This Feeling"2017- Final Life OST

(Some of Taemin’s solo Concert experience just in the last 16 months)

In 2018, Taemin had 32 concerts in 16 cities in Japan - all sold out

In 2019, Taemin had 16 concerts in 6 weeks in Japan - also all sold out.

Taemin has been in movies, tv dramas, tv shows, and musical.

Taemin’s 11 years with SHINee includes 194 songs recorded (originals and remakes of Korean songs in Japanese) (and I am probably missing some of the Japanese remakes)

"Amigo (A.Mi.Go)" (Korean title)2008

"Best Place (내 곁에만 있어; Nae Gyeoteman Isseo)"2008

"Forever Or Never"2008

"Four Seasons (눈을 감아보면; Nuneul Gamabomyeon)"2008

"Graze (화장을 하고; Hwajangeul Hago)"2008

"Hyeya (Y Si Fuera Ella)"2008

"In My Room"2008

"In My Room" (Unplugged mix)2008

"Last Gift (Majimak Seonmul)"2008

"Love Like Oxygen (Sanso Gateun Neo)" (Korean title)2008

"Love Should Go On (Sa.Gye.Han)"2008

"Love Should Go On (Sa.Gye.Han)" (DJ Oneshot mix)2008

"Love's Way (Sarangui Gil)"2008

"One For Me (Geunyeoga Heeojyeotda)"2008

"Real"2008

"Replay (Noona Neomu Yeppeo)" (Korean title)2008

"Romantic (Neo Animyeon Andoeneun Geol)"2008

"The Shinee World (Doo-Bop)" (Korean title)2008

"Bodyguard (보디가드)"2009

"Countdown"2009

"Get Down" (Key and Minho feat. Luna from f(x))2009

"Hit Me (Might As Well Just Hit Me)"2009

"Jo Jo"2009

"Juliette"2009

"Please, Don't Go (Sleep Talking)" (Onew and Jonghyun)2009

"Ring Ding Dong"2009

"Romeo + Juliette (Boy Meets Girl)"2009

"Scar"2009

"Seaside (Boom Boom)" (with TVXQ and Super Junior)2009

"Señorita (세뇨리따)"2009

"Shinee Girl"2009

"Stand By Me"2009

"Talk To You (I Like You)"2009

"The Name I Loved (Naega Saranghaetdeon Ireum)" (Onew feat. Kim Yeon-woo)2009

"Y.O.U (Year of Us)"2009

"A-Yo"2010

"Electric Heart"2010

"Fly High"2010

"Get It"2010

"Haru (하루; Day)"2010

"Haru (하루; Day)" (X-Mas Version) (feat. Oh Jun-Seong)2010

"Haru (하루; Day)" (Rock version)2010

"Hello"2010

"Life"2010

"Love Pain"2010

"Love Still Goes On (Sa.Gye.Hu)"2010

"Lucifer"2010

"Obsession (Yok)"2010

"One"2010

"Quasimodo (Hwasal)"2010

"Ready Or Not"2010

"Shout Out (악)"2010

"Up & Down"2010

"Wowowow"2010

"Your Name"2010

"Always Love"2011

"Amigo" (Japanese title)2011

"Better"2011

"Kiss Kiss Kiss"2011

"Lollipop" (f(x) feat. Shinee)2011

"Love Like Oxygen" (Japanese title)2011

"Replay (Kimi wa Boku no Everything)" (Japanese title)2011

"Seesaw"2011

"Start"2011

"Stranger"2011

"The Shinee World" (Japanese title)2011

"To Your Heart"2011

"1000years”2012

"Alarm Clock"2012

"Clue"2012

"Dazzling Girl"2012

"Honesty (Always At That Place)"2012

"Keeping Love Again"2012

"Note"2012

"Run With Me"2012

"Sherlock (Clue + Note)" (Korean title)2012

"Sherlock" (Japanese title)2012

"The Reason"2012

"The World Where You Exist (Kimi ga Iru Sekai)"2012

"3 2 1"2013

"Aside"2013

"Beautiful"2013

"Better Off (버리고 가; Beorigo Ga)"2013

"Boys Meet U"2013

"Breaking News"2013

"Burning Up!"2013

"Can't Leave (Sleepless Night)"2013

"Close the Door (닫아줘; Dadajwo)"2013

"Colorful"2013

"Colors of the Season"2013

"Dangerous (Medusa II)"2013

"Destination"2013

"Dream Girl"2013

"Dynamite"2013

"Everybody"2013

"Evil"2013

"Excuse Me Miss"2013

"Fire"2013

"Girls, Girls, Girls"2013

"Green Rain (초록비; Chorokbi)"2013

"Hitchhiking"2013

"I'm With You"2013

"Kiss Yo"2013

"Like a Fire"2013

"Moon River Waltz"2013

"Music Box (Orgel)"2013

"Nightmare"2013

"One Minute Back"2013

"Password"2013

"Punch Drunk Love"2013

"Queen of New York"2013

"Runaway"2013

"Selene 6.23"2013

"Shine (Medusa I)"2013

"Spoiler"2013

"Sunny Day Hero"2013

"Symptoms"2013

"Why So Serious?"2013

"365"2014

"Bounce"2014

"Downtown Baby"2014

"Lucky Star"2014

"Perfect 10"2014

"Picasso"2014

"Alive"2015

"An Encore (재연; Jaeyeon)"2015

"An Ode To You (너의 노래가 되어; Neoye Noraega Dweyeo)"2015

"Black Hole"2015

"Chocolate"2015

"Farewell My Love (이별의 길; Ibyeorui Gil)"2015

"Love Sick"2015

"Married to the music"2015

"Odd Eye"2015

"Romance"2015

"Trigger"2015

"View"2015

"Woof Woof"2015

"Your Number"2015

"1 of 1"2016

"Beautiful Life (한마디; Hanmadi)"2016

"Boys Will be Boys"2016

"D×D×D"2016

"Don't Let Me Go (투명 우산; Tumyeong Usan)"2016

"Don't Stop"2016

"Feel Good"2016

"Good Good Feeling"2016

"Hold You"2016

"If You Love Her"2016

"Kimi no Seide (君のせいで; lit. Because of You)"2016

"Lipstick"2016

"Love"2016

"Moon Drop"2016

"Photograph"2016

"Prism"2016

"Rescue"2016

"Savior"2016

"Shift"2016

"Sing Your Song"2016

"So Amazing"2016

"Sweet Surprise"2016

"Tell Me What To Do"2016

"U Need Me"2016

"Wanted"2016

"Winter Wonderland"2016

"Wish Upon A Star (별빛 바램; byeolbit baraem)"2016

"Wishful Thinking"2016

"ABOAB"2017

"Become Undone"2017

"Diamond Sky"2017

"Do Me Right"2017

"Gentleman"2017

"Get The Treasure"2017

"Melody"2017

"Mr. Right Guy"2017

"Nothing To Lose"2017

"All Day All Night"2018

"Chemistry"2018

"Countless (셀 수 없는; Sel Su Eomneun)"2018

"Drive"2018

"Electric"2018

"Every Time"2018

"From Now On"2018

"Good Evening (데리러 가; Derireo Ga)"2018

"I Want You"2018

"JUMP"2018

"Our Page (네가 남겨둔 말; nega namkyeodun mal)"2018

"Retro"2018

"Sunny Side"2018

"Tell Me Your Name"2018

"Tonight"2018

"Undercover"2018

"Who Waits For Love (독감; dokkam; lit. flu)"2018

"You & I (안녕)"2018

So, When People Say That Taemin Doesn’t Deserve “insert something stupid here” I Say Take One Minute Out Of Your Day and LOOK At The What He Has ACCOMPLISHED As A Member of SHINee AND As Solo Artist And As An Individual and he just turned 26 Years Old.

You can love your fav’s and support them with all your heart and still respect the work Taemin has Accomplished.

#Taemin #SHINee #SuperM #long post

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minichedders · 6 years ago

Text

princess

bodyguard!tom holland x reader

Tom followed you everywhere, it was his job too, and he was good at it. Not once in the day did he ever let his eyes slip from you, watching you carefully, analysing every move, every step and every expression with keen eyes. He felt a rush whenever your eyes would meet, which was a rare occasion considering the circumstances.

Tom was way over his head. He was foolish. You where the princess, you would never settle for anything less than a prince, and even if you wanted Tom, you were betrothed to marry another Prince to strengthen the nationalities relationships.

Prince James of Papua New Guinea. Tom scoffed, what a piss poor excuse for a man; he was selfish, lazy and didnt even care about the moral respect of women. He had visited you twice since the engagement, and Tom watched with his insides twisting at the sight of James' clammy, fat fingers touching your precious skin; and every time James got too close, your eyes searched for his, crying out for help; which was Tom only favourite part of his visit he enjoyed, the sheer need you begged from him.

He found you insatiable, beautiful beyond words, and you fit in with the luxury of the royal life, but still remained as kind as humble as ever. Every day you went around the palace, greeting everyone who walked past and made your way tot he kitchens to help the chefs cook, to which they openly obliged, against the Queens wishes. The queen was tight-lipped, old fashioned and downright rude, especially to you; she hated and disciplined ou whenever you would openly converse with anyone lower than you, or involved yourself with common charity events or fairs; she had her head too far up her ass to see that every harsh word she spoke brought tears prickling to your eyes, which maddened Tom.

Which was happening right in front of him? Himself and the Queen's guard both stood in the corners of the Queens living area, watching the conversation, more like an argument, roll out in front of them, the uncomfortable atmosphere scratching at Toms' neck.

"You can't get out of this marriage Y/N, I've told you millions of times," The Queen sneered, rolling her eyes at her daughter. Every day you went to your mother, begging relentlessly not to marry you off to an old hag, but she never prevailed.

"Please mother, do you not care about love? about my happiness? I don't want to marry someone i don't love," You cried, your hands flying in crazy gestures, your checks heating, trying to control your tears as they threatened to cross your eye line.

"You will grow to love him Y/N," The Queen sighed, pulling the blue and white fine china cup to her lips, slurping at the fresh tea she had her maid pour, which you had poured your own. The wedding was in 3 months, but the buzz of both nations had been roaring on for the last 5. Your mother had put you through multiple wedding events to try and sway your mind, creating your perfect, grande white wedding that you had always dreamed off, but you didnt want this. You had to marry to keep the power, not just of the other nations, but you couldn't inherit the throne without a King by your side.

"I highly doubt it mother," You sneered, landing the china teacup rather harshly on the matching plate.

"You're merely a young girl, what do you know about love, about ruling a country, at least tell me one of the loyal decrees for goodness sake, you are not fit to rule by your self,"

"I'll study!" You cried, "I can learn, you can be my teacher, and i can marry who i want, for love. Give me three months to learn everything you know,"

"You can't learn it all within three months child," The Queen's voice was quiet, her tone changing from unforgiving to sad.

"Tell you what Y/N, if you can find someone else you love within three months, someone suitable and worthy, I will cancel the wedding," The queen said, your eyes immediately turned to capture Toms, a slight blush creeping to your face, "But, you had to attend classes every Wednesday and Saturday to learn how to be a proper princess, which means no cooking, and you make time for Prince James,"

"Deal"

Tom had watched you wander around aimlessly for a whole month, you head dizzy and unfocused ever since you made the deal with your mother. Every man you had met with, Tom hated. He couldn't help it, but he just wanted to scream at you and take you in his arms. He was right in front of you and you were being blinded by the sun.

Your body fell onto your bed, a deep sigh leaving your stained red lips. Your body was sore from your date, where Knight Ben had decided that ice skating would be romantic, but you feel at least 7 times, and Tom was there to pick you up more than Ben was. Toms kind eyes floated in your mind more than you would admit to yourself, every time you caught his eye your hands grew sweaty and they began to shake, he was the most gentle, kind and handsome man you had met, and you thought every night if your mother would think he was suitable enough to marry, because he was the only one you wanted.

"Tom," You spoke, your voice unsure of its self as you stared at the intricate designs of your bedroom ceiling. Toms footsteps echoed in your ear, getting closer to your laying body. Both of you felt dizzy.

"Yes, your highness?" Tom asked. Every time someone had addressed you by your royal title, you cringed, your stomach flipping in the most uncomfortable way, but when it fell from Toms' lips you couldn't suppress the whimper that fell from your unwilling lips.

"Do you think I'm crazy? Thinking I can't find love in three months?" You asked, your head turning and eyes meeting his. Tom could notice the way your breath was shaky, as your eyes watered slightly, and the sight made him want to wrap you in his arms and cradle until he died.

"If i may be so bold to say, your highness, I think you know you are," tom laughed, trying to lighten your mood and make you smile, and when he saw your lips curve upwards for the first time in months his heart skipped a beat.

"True," You replied, staring back at the ceiling. You sat in silence for a moment, before you stood, grabbing Toms' hands and interlocking your fingers together, dragging him outside to the garden. Tom was about to protest, but the feeling of your warm skin so close to his made him speechless, he felt like a nursery boy, madly in love with the most popular girl in school.

Toms' mouth opened, before you shut him off, "Don't talk, please Tom, i just want to enjoy this quietly," Your voice was soft and quiet, and Tom obliged with no questions asked.

Both of you walked slowly around the garden, the sunlight setting, a dark orange hue painted across the sky, shining through the spring branches of the tall trees, and letting the colourfull garden flowers glow. You sat on the edge of the fountain piece, closing your eyes as you listened to the gentle trickle f the smooth water flow, mixed with the chirping birds and the gentle hum of the wind. Toms body sat next to you, hands still interlocking in your lap; he wanted nothing more but to just confess his undying feelings for you right there, but the pain in your face made him ache to comply to your no talking rule.

"Tommy," You whispered, quiet enough that Tom would've missed it if he wasn't so fixed intently on your lips. He hummed in response, looking back to your know open eyes, deep swirling pools of brown searching into your soul.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," Your eyes cast downwards, taking a deep breath in.

"Uh, I was thinking about how beautiful you are, how every man you have met is a fool not to be head over heels for you, and how much i want to kiss you right now," Tom spoke, his thumb now rubbing against your skin, causing goosebumps in their wake. You felt as if you were dreaming, hearing all the words you had wanted ever since you and Tom met, your breath twitched inside your throat.

"Why won't you?" You asked, still refusing to bring your eyes up to meet his. Your hands were shaking, which Tom noticed from the tight grip he had on you, he watched as you brought your other hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Tom brought his hands u to your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes, you had never felt so adored by a man before, and the way that Tom looked at you made your heart leap; but you where still so nervous about how powerful your feelings where about Tom, and how you just knew your mother would disapprove.

Time seemed to be distant, non-existent as you watched Tom lean forward, his breath against your lips, your heart now thumping widely in your chest. You looked deep into his eyes and down to his pink lips, as you followed his actions and eaned in as well, capturing his lips in for a sweet, meaningful kiss.

The two of you stayed locked together, Toms hands around your waist and you're wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you continued making out. Tiny moans and whimper came from your lips as grunts fell from his, both of you wanting and needing as much a the other could give, you felt as if Toms' lips brought you to cloud nine, as if you had fallen into heaven, soaring through pink fluffy clouds as your body experienced the tingles he sent through.

"I love you Y/N," Tom whispered, breaking his lips away from yours. You couldn't help but smile uncontrollably, laughing and blushing as he watched you deeply.

"I love you too, Tommy," You replied, pulling him back in for a short and sweet kiss.

"Now, whos going to tell my mother?" You said, laughing at Toms horrific facial expression, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you on his lap, eager to remain locked together for the rest of eternity.

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justkeeptrekkin · 6 years ago

Text

The Library Is Open- a drag queen AU

This is a little present for my boo @ladycakepops, with whom i have discussed 100000 Drag Race headcannons!! Luv u m8.

000

“Girl, you know she’s been using that same wig all week, yo, there’s flies comin’ outta that shit it’s so stanky.” “Oh no, here she comes, Miss Thing, lookin’ like she think she about to slay the runway but she left her fashion sense at home next to her ratchet-ass 100 Yen fake-lash kit. Oh no, sweetie.”

“And- oh, ladies and gentlemen boys and girls, you know the house gonna come down when Miss Kamui Woods strut on stage acting like she own the damn place, bitch looks like Groot, motherfucker.”

Club Hero erupts into joyous applause and roof raising laughter. It may be dark, the audiences’ faces obscured by the low lights, but Hizashi knows that they’re all smiling. Present Mic knows how to work a crowd. He can always count on his drag persona to keep the customers coming back with her witty one liners.

“And here she is- it’s Best Jeanist, girl, you know what I’m boutta say. Denim? Again? Where’s the variety? That doesn’t mean she don’t look good, though- whew, that waist is cinched to the gods henny. You’d. Betta. Work.”

At this point their careers, all the queens know that Mic will roast them till the cows come home. None of them take it personally. Any more, at least. At first, the obnoxious delivery didn’t exactly make Present Mic a very popular queen. But it didn’t take long for them to see the kind heart and smarts behind the overbearing facade.

They’re family, now.

“Here she is, Miss Tiger is here, hide your boyfriends, people, she comin’ for yo man- oh, nah, rewind, too late, she already run into him in the gym and snatched him at the weights section. Damn, you seen those muscles on that queen? Girl, she could lift me and through me out the window, I swear to Gawd.”

The laughter ripples through the place, a backdrop to the music that makes the floor vibrate a little, the queens strutting to the beat on stage in their runway looks. Mic sits backstage, watching with her microphone and peering at them over her sunglasses like she’s judging horses at the Kentucky races.

It all started out with presenting. That is how Present Mic found her drag name, after all. One night, Hizashi had come to visit Nemuri at Club Hero, having no clue how much it took to run a place like this. And, having never stepped foot in drag. He’d watched the runway behind stage with Nemuri, found a running commentary pouring out as the queens worked. The team backstage had loved it, and so had Nemuri. And Hizashi had been addicted to their attention, their laughter and encouragement to keep going. It lit a fire in him and gave him a purpose- entertaining. The last thing he’d expected was to find such a thing through drag.

“Mm Miss Shigaraki walkin’ on stage with that weird, spooky drag I know y’all love but come on, girl, I said it last week and I’ll say it again, put on some mothafuckin’ chapstick, yo.”

The audience screams at the burn. Mic grins.

“Mic.” He looks up from his seat to see Nemuri watching with a proud smile. She loves this place just as much as the rest of them. At the end of the day, if they really were to become a family, it’d be her family. House of Kayama.

“What’s up.” “They’re really rowdy tonight.” “You know I always give them what they want.”

The two of them watch as the queens step into formation for a dance routine. So very much not Mic’s thing. She has two left feet and could probably take someone’s eye out with her hair, styled the way it is.

Mic’s gaze drifts to the audience. And although it’s usually impossible to their expressions, there’s a small group of salary-men at the front, in the light of the stage, that draws Mic’s attention.

There’s a big guy. A big guy with red hair and a grizzly face, looks like he’d give Tiger or Vlad a run for their money. A mean looking fucker with a mean looking smile to match. The guy next to him, who looks, impossibly, even bigger, but more the gentle giant type- blonde and dopey and excited to be there. And then there’s the third guy. The third guy who’s shorter and less stocky but still broad shouldered. His tie is undone and his hair is slicked back, there’s stubble across his chin and a wicked looking scar on his cheek that makes Mic a little hot under the collar.

What troubles her most isn’t the big mean guy’s sneer as he laughs at the queens on stage- superior and mocking and all the things Mic hates. No, the thing that distresses her most is the look of utter indifference on the third guy’s face.

Bored? Here? Present Mic doesn’t settle for bored.

“Those assholes at the front,” Nemuri mutters, hands on her hips and a deathly look in her eyes.

Mic stares at them. The mean guy is shouting something, probably nothing worth getting kicked out over, but it’s getting the queens riled up. Nothing abnormal in a place like this- plenty come in just to laugh at them. But what they don’t know is that this place is protected. This is Club Hero. Every queen in here has her power, her own little quirk.

Mic’s about to show this dickhead her quirk.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Mic assures with a grin and wild, wide eyes that she knows freaks people out. She lays a gentle hand on Nemuri’s arm. “I’mma get him, yo. I’mma get him.”

When Mic stands, leather creaks. Diamante studs shine from the disco ball above her head and her heels take her to six foot seven. With the hair- almost seven foot tall. And as she walks towards the stage, thigh-high boots squeaking and leather mini-dress riding up just the right amount, Mic feels as if she could take over the world.

It’s the confidence she needs to do this job. And do what comes next.

The place smells like hot stage lights and booze. The backstage crew sense her approaching quickly- a seven foot tall, leather and diamante clad drag queen is hard to miss. They all step aside and let Mic pass, business-like but hiding smiles, knowing what’s about to go down. Mic passes through, deadly and determined.

One of the crew speaks into the microphone. “Settle down ladies- the cockatoo is flying to the stage now.” As code names go, Mic supposes it’s pretty accurate. The wig is kind of bird like.

The sound of her heels click-clocking against the floor gives her the momentum she needs to step into the stage lighting and take a stand besides her sisters. They turn to measure Mic’s arrival, expressions mixed- some relieved, some just outright pissed at the fact that their dance routine has stopped. The red haired guy is drunk, it’s obvious- he’s shouting some bullshit that isn’t all that offensive, but it’s annoying. The blonde guy is trying to shut him up, looking just as angry as the queens. And the third guy- he looks downright threatening. The look of disgust and disdain that he’s throwing at the red haired guy is impressive. That’s some shade right there. And he’s saying something that the dude can’t hear, but Mic can guess is biting.

The queens hang around on stage, deflated- they’ve stopped the dance routine in anticipation, and look at Mic. The audience have noticed Mic appear, too, and applause and encouragement seeps through the sewage of heckling from red-haired guy.

“Read him, Mic!” “Slaaayyyy!”

“Yas, come through!”

Gunhead is the first to walk up to her, removing her mask to look her in the eye. “You’d better get out there fast. You know our security team won’t throw him out yet.” “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

“You always do,” she smiles. So gentle despite that badass drag she’s got going.

The queens flow off stage. Jeanist stops her for a moment with a hand on her arm. She looks like she can barely breath in that corset. Why it gotta be denim, though? Mic thinks. “Don’t go too hard, Mic. I think this one could blow up in your face. This is one angry bastard.”

The grin that spreads across Mic’s face is evil. Jeanist doesn’t recoil from the expression- she’s used to it by now.

“I’mma have to try not to pop off too hard. Hold onto your wig, girl, I’m comin’ for him.” Jeanist rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh, before removing her hand and walking off stage.

Mic turns to the microphone that’s been quickly set up in the middle of the stage for her. She slowly steps towards it, painfully slowly with a cruel smirk, teasing the audience who know that she’s about to read this motherfucker so hard he’ll run out crying. The heeled boots click against the floor. And Mic is no pageant queen, or a pretty queen- especially not with the highly controversial moustache that she refuses to shave off- but she’s got legs for days. People whoop throughout the room as she stalks to the end of the runway.

She slowly wraps each individual finger, nails painted black, around the neck of the microphone. It’s particularly suggestive and earns a few more whoops.

The three salary-men are sat directly below her. The red haired one tch-ing like he doesn’t know what’s coming. The blonde one equally oblivious. And the third one- the third one is staring up at her, entirely transfixed. Looking like he’s already impressed, and Mic hasn’t even opened her mouth, yet.

Ooh. She likes this one.

“Yo yo yo, how’s everyone doin’ tonight, peeps?”

The crowd explodes with cheers and werks and slays and yas queens. Mic removes the microphone from the stand and twirls the cable around her index finger as she effortlessly steps across the stage in seven inch heels. Looks into the dark of the crowd through red tinted sunglasses.

“There are some ugly motherfuckers in here tonoit.” There’s sporadic of applause and laughter. No one is safe from roasting when Mic’s on stage. “You know I don’t like coming out here.” Some aaws, some boos. “Ok, I’m lying, I love it, I love reading y’all to filth.” Laughter. “I just know that whenever I come out on stage like this, it’s because some asshole is getting in the way of my sisters’ show, and you that ain’t cool, yo.” Some people clap. “Nah. That’ ain’t cool. We show respect in Club Hero, am I right or am I right?”

A chorus of whoops and cheers and yaaassssses. She feels all eyes on her, and whilst she feels more confident commentating backstage- she’s always half-joked that she’s got a face for radio, not TV- she knows that she owns the room right now. She just has to remind herself of that when the nerves kick in.

Her eyes fall on that handsome stranger again. He doesn’t look bored anymore.

“I need some help now, people, I need some help.” She walks up and down the stage, dragging the microphone cable with her as she paces. “Now I just- I just don’t know what to do this weekend, you feel? I need recommendations. I got a whole-ass day free tomorrow and I wanna do something nice, do something special, and I thought about getting out of the city for a bit, but I’m not about hiking in the mountains or some shit- I know some people have arbor ardor but I'm more of a city kitty ya dig? Nah, I wanna do something relaxing. Something super chill. Maybe I’ll go see a movie. Or. You know. Maybe I’ll take out a book from the library.” The crowd bursts into cheers. Mic grins, looking down at the table of highly confused straight boys. That red haired bastard is talking loud, angry nonsense to the big blonde guy, who’s glaring at him. Redhead isn’t paying any attention at all.

“Now, for those of you who need educating on drag lingo- when the library is open, and it’ll open real soon-” More whooping. “- it means that I’m gonna pick one person in this room and roast them so hard the smell of them burning makes everyone hungry, you feel me?”

Redhead continues to have a one way argument with the blonde guy, who’s now noticed Mic watching them. One hand on her hip and one hand on the microphone. Waiting.

“This bitch. This bitch doesn’t even know what’s coming, he ain’t even noticed that I’m staring at him yet, the disrespect, you know what I’m saying?”

Handsome stranger battles against a smirk, peers over at the two other salarymen. Blonde guy nudges red haired guy. And he finally notices Mic. He looks her up and down with a disdainful frown. Mic just stands there, seven foot tall and plastering on her most terrifying, shit-eating grin.

“What’s your name, sweetie.”

Some people applaud in excitement, the rest of the room hushes in anticipation. Red haired guy just stares at her, frowning and apparently unable to believe that he’s being addressed like this. Blonde guy is covering his mouth- he’s shaking with laughter.

“Sorry I- I couldn’t hear you, what’s that?” Mic stoops forward with a hand on his ear to listen to nothing. Red haired guy won’t open his mouth. “Right, right, right. I see what this is, you got some pride to withhold, haven’t you. I get it. He likes being centre of attention only until someone calls him out, huh.”

“His name’s Todoroki.”

Mic looks down at the dark handsome stranger who’s shouted out this name. He’s looking smug, not deigning to give his colleague any eye contact as he warns him to keep your mouth shut.

Mic steps to the edge of the stage and sits down, legs hanging off the edge and continuing to twirl the microphone cable flirtatiously.

Those dark eyes fixed on her. It almost makes her shiver. “And what’s your name, sugar?”

A grin. A grin, just as terrifying as Mic’s. “Aizawa.”

“Aizawa?” She says the name with a responding smile and blonde guy nudges Aizawa conspiratorially. “Aizawa, I think you and me gonna be friends. Can you help me read this son of a bitch right now?” He nods. Mic barks a laugh, loud and abrasive just like the rest of her. “Oh he don’t even care, he’s betraying his friend just like that-”

“He’s not my friend. He’s my boss.”

“Oh my- holy shit, yo, my boy’s shameless. You got more balls than I do, honey, that’s for sure. Shit, I like this one.”

People are calling out suggestive noises and laughing, and Mic has to admit she wasn’t expecting it to go this way. Flirting with audience members is fairly normal, but this is the first time that it’s been so reciprocated. This Aizawa man could snatch all of her attention if she isn’t too careful.

She looks out into the crowd and spots red haired dude, Todoroki, sneering with his chin jutting out.

Mic turns towards him, shuffling in her seat. “Oh shit, sorry girl, I totally forgot about you.” That sneer only increases. Ah, there it is- she could tell from the start. It’s always so, so easy to tell when a guy thinks he’s the most important and deserves all the attention.

This guy’s problem is ego, and egos are easy to deflate.

“I was just flirting with this nice man over here,” Mic continues. “What’s your name again? Todoroki, wasn’t it? Yo, you should move seats. For real, you shouldn’t be sitting next to your friend Captain America, he makes you look like his smaller, bitchier, less impressive version of him, you know what I’m saying?” That earns some cackles and cheers. Captain America’s eyes widen in shock and he continues to hide his face. Aizawa purses his lips against a smile. Eyes still fixed on Mic.

Todoroki goes rigid in his seat, squares his jaw, tenses his shoulders and clenches his fists on the table, beside the empty glasses.

“The library is officially open, people. Oh, shit, I knew that would piss you off- you’re a big man. Big important man who likes to be in charge and wants to be the best. Yeah, I’ve seen you before.” Mic pauses. “Bet you got a small dick.”

It’s not clever comment, but it’s an effective one, one that always gets laughs, and one that always, always works with a man like this- who looks the other way, fist clenching so hard his arm muscles are twitching.

“He about to hulk out, I can tell.” And Mic’s playing a dangerous game, but she knows what she’s doing. She slips off the stage, the spotlight following her as she steps towards the table. There’s a round of oooos as she makes her way with flamboyant purpose towards Todoroki. She pauses in front of him, looming above him, merely staring him down. It’s a testament to his pride that he plays that game, stare locked on her with his chin jutting out.

And then, Mic perches on Todoroki’s knee, legs draped over him and an arm around his shoulder. The audience scream in delight.

“I’ve got some nerve, don’t I?” Mic smirks. Todoroki looks both horrified and furious, in amusing measure. Mic bats her eyelids, puts on her best Betty Boop voice. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Mr Todoroki, sir?” Todoroki stares in the other direction, and he growls the following through his teeth. “Get yourself off of me.”

“He speaks!” Mic proclaims, and the room cheers. “Your voice, oh man, you’re sounding like the shitty porno version of Batman right now.”

She feels Todoroki tense under his arm. She hastily complies, though, removing herself and peering at him over her sunglasses. “Yo, he’s about to kill me just now. Well, maybe I’ll just resort to the safety of my friend Aizawa over here-”

She takes herself to Aizawa’s lap instead, settling on his knees with a feigned bashful expression. And Aizawa looks at her with a mixture of amusement and interest. There’s a furious blush on that face.

“Oh, yes, this seat’s much more comfortable. Shit, when I came on stage I thought this boy right here was straight, I was wrong.” Aizawa smirks, watching her as she speaks, eyes full of interest. “That’s a joke, right? Look at him now, he’s feeling right at home with a seven foot drag queen in his lap. Almost as funny as the joke that people are spreading around saying I’m a top.” Wow. This is one handsome bastard. And not only is he unfazed, he seems to be enjoying Mic’s performance substantially.

Mic likes the attention.

She leans forward a little, resting a hand on the back of Aizawa’s chair. Aizawa doesn’t lean away, eyes on her. “You a top, baby?”

The crowd is going insane, and she hasn’t even started properly roasting this guy Todoroki yet.

Oh shit, yeah, she’s meant to be reading that asshole right now.

This Aizawa guy is way too distracting.

“Oh, honey-” she says in realisation, turning to Todoroki, waving a dismissively apologetic hand. “-Shit, sorry girl, I totally forgot about you again. You’re just that forgettable.” And behind the joyous applause, she hears Todoroki say something. She can read his lips, and that’s the only reason she can pick up what he said: Fucking freak.

Captain America looks furious on her behalf, but sort of like he wants to stay to see how this pans out, rather than drag Todoroki out. And Aizawa doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to Todoroki at all.

That possibly makes her a little smug.

Mic’s had a lot worse before, though. People have called her all sorts of names. People have called Hizashi all sorts of names, even out of drag. But they’re resilient.

A hand flies to her chest theatrically and she makes a motherly gasp. “He called me a fucking freak, ladies and gentlemen!” They boo and jeer. “Mr Todoroki, , how rude. You eat asshole with that mouth?” Even the implication that he might be anything other than straight makes him shift angrily in his seat. The only reason he hasn’t got up to leave, like some people do when they’re being read, is because of his pride. Mic assumes, anyway. That makes it so much more enjoyable.

“No, no, no- I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mic adds, waving another apologetic hand and crossing her legs, still settled nicely in Aizawa’s lap. “I shouldn’t be so mean to you right now, you didn't know what was coming. I should tone it down, huh. OK, let’s get to know you a little better- what brings a boy like you to a place like this?” Todoroki, predictably, doesn’t reply, just looks stoically the other way. Captain America takes this question, leaning towards Mic so she can hear over the rapturous audience. “My friend recommended it, she’s a drag queen too.” Mic’s mouth falls open. “These boys are full of surprises- what’s her name?”

“Nighteye.”

“Nighteye? Holy shit, you friends with Miss Nighteye? I didn’t think anybody was friends with Nighteye, the skinny, shady bitch.”

Captain America laughs knowingly. Mic drapes an arm around Aizawa’s shoulders, and is momentarily captivated by that look he’s giving her. Like he just wants to eat her up.

She stares back.

And then shakes her head, trying to snap out of it. “I’m gonna have to remove myself, yo, you distracting me too much,” she announces with a nervous laugh. This isn’t usually how this routine goes. Aizawa looks a little disappointed, but no less interested in her as she steps away, little leather mini-dress squeaking as she returns to sit on the edge of the stage.

Todoroki glares at her.

“OK, OK, so Mr Todoroki, you got family?” No answer, of course. Mic swings her thigh high boots off the edge of the stage happily. She gesticulates with her free hand as she talks, Todoroki looking at her like he’s willing her to burst into flames on stage, Carrie style. “He ain’t best pleased, ladies and gentlemen, he ain’t best pleased. Girl why you look so pissed? It’s just a game. And that’s what you get for disrespecting my sisters on stage, you know what I’m sayin’?”

Applause fills the room, and Mic smiles down at Todoroki’s fuming expression. He won’t last much longer. She can see the security team stepping through the crowd.

“Oof. Look at that angry face. He’s so pissed. What’s the tea, sweetie? What’s the tea?” Mic leans forward, elbow on her knee and staring Todoroki down. “I wanna know, what’s the matter baby? Did someone steal that red sharpie pen you colour your hair with?”

And then he snaps. Todoroki finally stands up, but before he can get anywhere he has three security guards on him, pulling him away. There’s always that short moment when Mic is genuinely frightened. But she knows she’s safe. And she knows what game she’s playing when she’s reading men like this. She takes the risk because, in her mind, it’s worth it. And so she calmly watches Todoroki being escorted away, the audience exploding with applause and booing.

Meanwhile, Captain America picks up his stuff and confidently walks towards Mic, brows knit together anxiously. He leans forward so that only she can hear, and she removes the microphone so it doesn’t pick up his words.

“I’m sorry for my colleague. He’s a bully. Aizawa and I loved your show.” Even through all the hate in the world, little rays of sunshine like this man peek through. Mic smiles, heart genuinely warmed. “Thank you. Mr?” “Yagi. Yagi Toshinori.” She nods, committing the name to memory. “You’re a good man Mr Yagi Toshinori.” Yagi smiles apologetically and turns away, broad shoulders practically bursting out of the suit. And Mic is about to stand up and get back on stage, call the queens back out- but here comes Aizawa, a calm look of purpose on his face. He stretches out his hand, passing her something she can’t see in the dark of the audience. She reaches to take it.

There’s butterflies in her chest. Christ, it’s like she’s a thirteen year old girl.

It’s a card. Aizawa turns back into the crowd, walks lazily out of the club with his suit jacket over his arm. Mic looks down at the card.

His business card. With his mobile number.

She can’t help but laugh out loud in disbelief.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” she announces with no small amount of excitement. There’s fireworks going off in her chest. Combined with the adrenaline of her reading, this is almost too much. “This is a Club Hero first. I just that nice man’s number.”

The crowd explodes. She turns to look behind her, where the queens are catwalking back on stage and waiting for their cue to being their routine again. Some of them applauding her and cheering her on. Nemuri peers from behind the stage curtain, giving a giant thumbs up. She’s never going to let Mic live this down.

Mic stands up on stage, looks into the crowd, who are still cheering. She laughs again.

“I’m clearly not doing this reading thing properly if I’m coming away with a date.”

#my writing #bnha #erasermic #drag au #fic prompt

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