#in memory of my own grandfather - who just passed away

[spaceorphan18]

Scenes from December (24/24)

Klaine Advent 2022 Day Twenty-Four : Burst

****

December, 2083

Beth leaned against the archway connecting the dining room to the living room.  She folded her arms across her chest, thinking that she should have worn another shirt under her sweater.  Demetri’s Aunt Katharine always the heat cranked, and with the fireplace going, it felt more like the middle of summer than late-December.  Still, she didn’t mind so much.  Demetri himself was a raging furnace and between that and the pregnancy, she had just accepted being warm all the time.  

Besides - the holidays were her favorite part of the year.  

Beth was used to a much bigger family -- Great Aunts and third cousins twice removed always popping up around the holidays was the norm.  Demetri’s family was much smaller, but that didn’t make them any less enthusiastic a family.  And the house was as cozy and welcoming as any on her side of the family.  

The sleek, modern-designed house was fully decorated; the faux silver and blue Christmas tree perfectly decorated with gold and blue ornaments and bright, white lights stood in the corner next to the fireplace, where the stockings - plenty of them, each embroidered with a family member’s name, hung from the mantle.  The mantle itself had a cute, little display of Santa, Mrs. Claus, and a bunch of Elvin figurines depicting Christmas at the North Pole.   And hanging on the wall was a gigantic wreath that framed the oversized photo of the family - one taken just as she and Demetri had begun seriously dating. 

The photo featured Demetri’s grandfathers, sitting on chairs, looking dapper in their suits, as the rest of the family surrounded them.  Beth, herself, was barely visible in the back - she assumed (humorously) in case they needed to crop her out.  She remembered that day fondly, as it was mass chaos, and the only one who could get them all to focus was Demetri’s Grandpa Blaine who, unfortunately, had passed away the previous year.  Despite the cheery nature of the family, his absence was felt.  Though when Beth looked at Demetri - and noticed the same ridiculously shaped eyebrows, over the most loving of hazel eyes, she didn’t think Grandpa Blaine was entirely gone. 

Demetri didn’t notice her watching him.  He was too busy on the couch, discussing the old Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer claymation kids movie that was playing on TV with his cousin Abby and her wife.  On the floor were his brother's kids, taking turns with a gamepad, oblivious to the bizarre film that was playing in front of them.  The movie was drowned out by the sound of the electric piano in the back corner - Demetri’s uncle getting schooled in piano by his daughter Emma.  Meanwhile, over in the kitchen, Beth’s brother-in-law Arnold and his wife were in the kitchen - attempting to make dinner.  If she had leaned back far enough, she could have seen them arguing about the turkey possibly not being ready in time with everything else.  

In the dining room behind Beth was her mother-in-law, Tracy, and Aunt Katharine, setting the rarely used, large oak table with the fancy silverware.  Beth assumed she wasn’t supposed to be hearing the conversation happening, as it was in all hushed tones, but she couldn’t help but listen anyway.  

“I still can’t believe they said only three-to-six months,” Aunt Katharine was saying.  “He was just diagnosed.  That doesn’t seem right.” 

“Well, they won’t operate because of his age,” Beth’s mother-in-law replied.  “They’re afraid of any aggressive treatments, which, I guess is what he needs.”  

“Have you told him yet?” 

“No, the doctor told us that it might be easier to wait until after the holidays.  I figured we could sit him down and ask him what he’d like to do.” 

“Well, you know him.  He’s stubborn enough that he’ll make it a hundred on sheer willpower alone.” 

“Katie, you haven’t been around the past couple of years.  He wasn’t doing great before Dad died.  But after last year… I’m amazed he made it to this Christmas.  I don’t know about next year’s.”  

Aunt Katharine didn’t continue, as they both noticed that Beth could hear them.  Not wanting to intrude, Beth turned her attention to the subject of their conversation.  

Grandpa Kurt sat in the lounge chair on the other side of the room, snug with a knit blanket (with little bow ties) around his shoulders.  He seemed to be in good spirits.  Someone, earlier, had placed reindeer antlers that had little bells on them on his head, and he was using them to entertain his seven-month-old great-grandson, her sweet little baby boy, who sat on his lap.  There was a burst of laughter as the baby reached for the antlers, and at the last second they were pulled away.  One chubby arm reached out, trying to grab it, as both of them laughed at the game. 

Endeared, Beth made her way to that side of the room sitting on the ottoman next to the chair.  Demetri had always said he had been intimidated by his grandfather.  But Beth adored him for his quick wit and intelligent conversation.  She knew that underneath all those rough edges was a soft and sweet inside.  Maybe she saw that legacy in her husband, too.    

“Glad you guys could make it out to Ohio this year.”  Grandpa Kurt continued to play with the baby as he made conversation with her.  “The snow makes it hard to travel.” 

Beth smiled.  “Yes, but family’s important.  We wanted to make sure we came this year.” She rubbed her baby’s back, the little boy seeming quite at home on his great-grandfather’s lap.  

She didn’t need to elaborate on why she wanted to make sure they came this year.  As much as he seemed to be enjoying the moment, there was a weariness in his eyes that she had never noticed before.  She had a hunch that her mother-in-law was probably right.  This would be their last Christmas with him.  But at least they had this time together.  At least he would get to know her little boy, even if it were for only a short time.  At least that bit of love shared would be passed down and remembered and cherished.  

Grandpa Kurt leaned forward, finally letting the baby grab on to the antlers, making the shake and jingle.  The baby laughed gleefully.  

“Are you having fun, Kurt?” Beth asked. 

Grandpa Kurt was quick to reply.  “Why yes - I’ve been known to steal focus at many a party.” 

Beth chuckled. “You know I was talking to the baby.  But I’m glad you’re having fun, too.” 

“Clearly, the mix-ups were bound to be inevitable.  Why on Earth would you name a baby Kurt, anyway?” 

Beth reached out her hand to give his a loving squeeze.  “Well, it was a pretty easy decision to name him after you.”

[bluerosefox]

Taking a Chance

I want more TaliaxDanny stuff so how about this AU. Its mostly HEAVILY hinted though.

[Side note: Danny is in his 20s, maybe mid 20s btw, also enjoy my actual writing style, haven't done this in a while besides some small snippets I write]

Talia discovers the future plans Ra's has for her baby, her heir, her child. She is hurt and enraged because "How dare he! How dare he raise my son to be a sacrificial lamb just to extend his own life!" And the fact he had no plans to truly step down from being the Demon Head. (Basically the timeline where Ra's planned to overtake Damain's body)

-x-x-

Talia stared, her green eyes almost glowing toward the sleeping form of her son on her bed. Her eyes roamed his tiny face, the way he lightly dozed the day away unknowingly of the danger that had set in stone for him. Yes, being not just her son but the son of the Bat and the grandson of the Demon Head he was always going to be in danger but never had she really thought the danger would come from the very person who just declared him his heir. At least not in the way its been presented.

Talia had just discovered the fate her father, Ra's al Ghul, the same man that had held Damian not even a day ago and spoke of the future he could see Damian bring to the League once he was of age and would lead it, had actually planned for her son.

He planned on using her son, raising him to be the perfect heir.... to... to...

Use him as a vessel in the end.

He planned to leave his old decaying body, a body that was beginning to no longer respond to the Lazarus Pits as of late, and basically jump ship to a younger and better body...

The body of her son. The son she created and craved to have and raise. The son she made with her beloved's blood running in his veins.

Despite how enraged she is' Talia knows she can't confront her father. He would kill her... no he would torture her by hurting her baby to the point death would be a mercy if she tried. She also knows she can't go running to Bruce, she had burned the bridge to him ages ago when she refused to leave her father and his teachings and knows he would rip Damian away from her should she tell him what she did. He would, under the guise of protecting their child gain sole custody from Talia, set up next to nothing visitation rights for her to follow. He would say it would be to protect Damian from Ra's but Talia knows Bruce, knows he would use it as a half-excuse just to keep her away... but Talia wants to be in her child's life. Wants to raise him. Wants to be his mother, despite knowing next to nothing on how to be an actual normal mother, she wanted to try. She needed to try.

Running away was also out of the question, especially since Damian had been declared her father 'heir'. He would hunt them down and there was no where in this world she could hide that her father could not find them...

And-

Talia barely gives any warning when she flings the knife behind her. She waited for only a second, either to hear the ting of metal being blocked or the sound of it burying itself onto the wooden door she knew was in its pathway.

Instead she heard neither of those things and instead heard the ticking of a grandfather clock and a deep chuckle.

"As expected from the daughter of the Demon. Sharp and deadly with no hesitation in sight."

"Who are you." It was not a question but a demand. She slowly turned her head and was meet with an odd sight that even the daughter of the Demon has never seen before.

"At most.. an ally to have. At worst, merely a passing stranger with an offer."

The ticking never stopped.

Everything else outside the room though did.

-x-x-

Danny stared, his currently green eyes burning even more brightly than they normally do. Many emotions passed through them, anger, frustration, pain, sadness, regret, heartbreak, and hopelessness to name a few.

He stared at the tiny sleeping face within the healing pod in front of him and closed his eyes as memories of spending time with the one sleeping filled his mind.

"My King." A voice began, Danny's sharp pointed ears twitch for a moment and he turned his head slightly but it was all the speaker needed to know that they had his attention even if he didn't give them his full attention.

"I bring the updated reports from Chief Frostbite you requested." The young yeti ghost said, this had Danny finally turning around and looking upwards and towards the young yeti, who was smaller than Frostbite but none the less bigger than Danny. Danny held his hand out and took the stack of papers in their hands.

Once the papers were in his hands he gave a curt wave of his fingers as if to say 'go on' without actually saying the words and turned his attention to the words on the papers. The young yeti, Icewinds took the signal and began.

"Princess Danielle's core has remained the same since the last check up. No major sign of deteriorating or destabilizing... However that also means there have been no signs of improvement or healing as well..." Icewinds stopped for a moment, allowing their King to register the words being spoken "We will continue to monitor her as best as we can but... My King..."

Icewinds took a deep breath and delivered the news everyone already knew "Without a female donor to complete her Ecto-DNA, should the Princess suffers from another Fading even a minor one, I fear it might be too much for her core and with her current body form it will not be able to withstand the stress... I'm truly sorry My King."

The room fell silent, the only real sounds being the monitors in the room and sound of rustling papers in Danny's hands, who was staring blankly at the words written on them but not really taking them in.

After a moment, Icewinds shifting uncomfortably for a second, Danny spoke his voice raw but strong and firm "I understand. Please inform Frostbite I am... grateful for his, yours, and everyone's continued support and everything everyone's has done to help her... If you do not mind Icewinds, I would... Like to be alone for a while and think... For a moment."

"O-Of course My King." And with that Icewinds left the room, Danny barely taking not of the door closing and his enhanced hearing picking up the hushed soft words being spoken to the Knights that stood outside the room of Danny's request of being left alone for a while.

Once the talking outside the room faded, Danny tilted his body and head back on the chair he had been sitting in for the last few days and allowed the papers he had his hands to fall out and onto the floor. Danny took in a shaky breath and closed his burning eyes as he tried to keep his core emotions in control, knowing if he lost control the Realms would echo him and would panic or worry his people.

And he couldn't deal with that. Not now.

"Clockwork, whatever timeline you are trying to set in motion, I hope it pans out soon." Danny rasped out as he tried his best to keep himself from falling apart. Losing Danielle, losing the girl that was his clone, his mirror, but also was like a sister... daughter sometimes would break him, harshly and deeply.

He knew his advisor and resident Timekeeper had something in the works, the way the aging spirit had looked at him before he left was telling when the news of Danielle's suffering from another Fading attack and Frostbite having to perform a Core Transform nearly last second, which in turn turned her into a baby from how close she was to fully Fading, had been delivered to Danny and the others.

But despite knowing Clockwork had a plan, Danny knew that smile he had before he had left. It had been Clockwork's 'Have hope, but even I am unsure.' smile, a rare one the Timekeeper would wear when even he didn't know which way the pendulum of chance would swing first.

So he did the only thing he could do for now, and that was to remain in the room with Danielle, keep her stabilized as best as he could with his own ectoplasim flowing, and wait to see if whatever Clockwork had planned would work out.

Waiting, even with all he's done in his life from becoming a Halfa, to defending his home and haunt, from fighting off insane Fruitloops to dismantling government bigots until there was nothing left of them, all the way to fighting a tyrannicidal Ghost King to the point Danny had won the crown by Trail by Combat thus taking up the mantle of Ghost King of the Infinite Realms since his seventeenth birthday and bringing the Infinite Realms into a new age of healing the broken crumbling lands and ruling over all justly but firmly, waiting was all he could do for Danielle.

And the waiting. The stress. Was agonizing.

Because what they needed was...

Was a miracle if Danny was to be honest. They needed a female, a donor in all sense of the words, to complete Danielle's incomplete Ecto-DNA, because of course that damned Fruitloop tried skipping steps in creating a clone of Danny and it was no wonder he had failed so many times with only Danielle the most stable of them all and given the fact she still wasn't was damning, but they couldn't just have any female donate their DNA to her.

No the DNA needed the donor to at least be limenal, thus turning the DNA into Ecto-DNA because Danielle was created to be a halfa... The only problem was that the person in question needed to be Jazz level of limenal Ecto-DNA as well.

Meaning that despite both Sam and Val offering their Ecto-DNA from the years of being exposed to the Realms and Ectoplasim theirs wasn't enough to work with Danielle's. Jazz's Ecto-DNA was off the table seeing as she was his sister and mixing it with Danielle's would just lead to problems.

No they needed someone who was born near or in ectoplasm, breathed it, ate or at least filtered it, grew with it for years like Jazz and Danny did, basically the person in question just needed one odd day of dying and returning to life at the same time to becoming a halfa levels of limenal. Only those high levels could complete and combined with Danielle's.

Which given the fact only Jazz had those levels, finding someone near those levels was like looking for needle in space, because forget the haystack.

"....You've returned." Was the only words Danny said when his ears caught the sound of a ticking clock suddenly in the room, his anxiety raising as both dread and a tiny slimmer of hope both slowly climb up in his emotions, knowing whatever answer Clockwork would give him would outweigh the other.

"On time, as always My King." His cryptic Timekeeper responded "I bring... a chance."

Those words were enough to snap Danny out of his chair, he quickly looked towards where Clockwork's voice had been coming from and floated. His eyes burning with determination for a moment before he caught sight of movement behind Clockwork.

Behind the ever changing being stood a breathtaking woman. Tall and proud from the way she held herself, she looked a few years older than him but Danny could sense she was far older her soul not really matching her body. She was lovely to look at no doubt but deadly, very deadly and that was something else Danny could sense after all he was the Ghost King.

And she wasn't alone for in her arms was a baby, roughly the same age that Danielle had been de-aged to as well.

Danny blinked at them when he noticed something.

She...

She was limenal.

Very limenal. Even more limenal than Jazz.

In fact both of them were.

"I would like you to meet Lady Talia al Ghul and her son Damian, My King." Clockwork said as he gave a tiny bow towards the woman who stepped forward, a frown on her face she took in Danny's features and her eyes darting towards Danielle's healing pod for a moment, Danny could see she was tensed and a little weary from no doubt everything so far.

".... Welcome Lady Talia to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." Danny greeted, his many years of training with other royalties coming forward as second nature now, he wasn't some normal teen from the middle of the Mid-West after all. "Has Clockwork told you the reasoning as to why you have been... chosen?"

He honestly would put it past Clockwork to be cryptic about the reasoning, but he hoped he hadn't because Danny really didn't want to explain the importance of it all and why they needed to hurry. And judging by the roll of his eyes Clockwork knew what Danny had been meaning as well.

"Yes King Phantom" Talia spoke, her voice rich and silky that sent a tiny shiver up Danny's spine from the sound "You need my DNA to help heal your clone. Should it be successful however it will change her from being merely a clone to instead into becoming yours and mine daughter."

"Correct." Was Danny's response, short and to the point. He needed her answer now if they wanted to save even a fragment of Danielle's core.

The room fell silent again, each them of taking a moment to think.

But eventually Talia spoke. Her voice steady and strong.

"I will offer my aid to you and yours... But only if you swear to both me and my son that we will be given sanctuary from my father and any who dares harm us for the blood that runs in our veins."

Danny only had one answer to that as his eyes caught hers.

Because despite being the Ghost King Phantom nowadays. He had once been Danny Phantom whose core started as a protector spirit and could sense the honestly of needing safety in her words.

"Yes."

-x-x-

Clockwork watched and smiled at the two adults in the room as they continued to stare at each other.

He knew he had been cutting it close, waiting for Talia to be at the ends of ropes and needing a chance to finally leave her deadly and abusive father without the toxic strings attached her ex would tie around her under the guise of safety for their son.

Turning his attention away from the two as they began to speak terms, Clockwork cast his gaze towards an window in the room and stared out of it, smile still on his face as glimpses of the rare future he saw slowly rose up more frequently.

Danny and Talia slowly and surely working together to raise not just Danielle, or rather Ellie as they renamed her since she was no longer a clone of Danny, but also Damian together. Passing them off as twins to those outside the Realms or Amity Park.

Talia learning to release the toxic love she had towards Bruce Wayne, and understand if someone truly loved you for you, they would demand sudden change from the only way of life one knows. That since she was no longer the thumb of her father she could finally be free to be herself.

Danny learning that despite being crowned so early in his life, that the weight of the crown didn't need to be carried alone. Sure he had his friends and family but Danny needed someone, someone who understood the weight of the feeling of needing to wear it head held high. And who better to help teach that than the woman who had to carry the name Daughter of the Demon Head herself.

The two growing closer and closer. Until fondness changed and shifted into more. As they raised the two infants with laughter and joy and love.

Ellie getting a kiss from Talia on the forehead when she had a nightmare and seeked her mother out for comfort. Toddler Damian riding Cujo around the castle as he copied Fright Knight after watching him ride off, Danny floating right by him making sure he didn't fall off. Ellie learning how to fight not just from her mother but from her idol Pandora. Damian learning to identify the stars and their names from the man he saw, and later wished was, his father. Ellie and Damian building pillow forts in the library and reading all manners of stories to each other. Danny and Talia holding their tiny hands as they took them to their first day of school within Amity Park their joyful laughter bringing soft smiles on their parents faces.

Danny holding a crying Talia as she explained the things she had been taught and forced to learn by the orders of her father in the dead of night. Doing his best to calm her down as he had been taught by Jazz ages ago.

Talia standing tall and firm when the Observants tried to undermined a order, no a law Danny had set in motion that had upset the eyeballs badly. How she gathered evidence of their attempts to go against it and how they were nothing but traitors towards their King and couldn't weasel themselves out of it this time.

Clockwork smiled warmly when he caught sight of one more glimpse of this future timeline.

Talia dressed beautifully, a crown made of stars and black jewels on her head. Her son dancing with her as firm as he could but his little tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated on his steps and was dressed like a tiny prince complete with a tiny crown of stars on his head as well, Talia's face held a tiny smile of love watching him try his hardest to dance correctly with her. Joyful squeals of laughter rang out as King Phantom twirled with Ellie, who was dressed like a true princess, in his arms.

Around them in the ballroom the citizens of Realms laughed, joyfully danced, sang, ate, or merely watched. For the first time in many, many years the Realms felt... Complete. Whole. Happy.

A true wonderful afterlife that all could enjoy.

Yes.

He knew waiting the last second was a long shot, for a chance that almost wasn't, but the future he saw was well worth it.

A good future. A balanced one. A happy afterlife one.

Now, all he had to do was wait for the seeds of this future to bloom.

[oofthwoods]

CHAPTER ONE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: "what is a legacy? it's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. i wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me". | a victorious journey always begins with a death and an offer.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: funerals, grief and death. if you don't feel comfortable with these themes, go straight to the part after 2023. you won't lose much, i promise! the second part is somehow based on right hand man from hamilton, don't ask about it. this is pretty much a prologue number two tbh, but i still hope you enjoy it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 3.2k

⭠ previous masterlist next ‭→

2021

In the solemn setting of the cemetery, the sun hung in the sky, seemingly unaware of the grief below. Its golden rays contrasted sharply with the darkness consuming your soul, each beam of light piercing through the heavy clouds of sorrow. As tears streaked your face, the warmth of the sun felt out of place, a painful reminder of the world's indifference to your shattered heart.

Standing beside the graveside, you looked up to the sky, seeking solace in its vastness. But the heavens offered no comfort, no relief from the ache within. You wondered why the sky remained clear, why it didn't reflect the storm of emotions raging inside you. Its serene blue expanse seemed to mock your devastation, its unwavering indifference amplifying your pain.

Your mother and her siblings stood ahead, their shoulders bowed under the weight of grief, their sobs a haunting melody that echoed through the air. But you stood alone, isolated in your sorrow, drowning in memories that threatened to consume you whole.

Memories of your grandfather flooded your mind like a deluge, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. His laughter, once a source of joy and comfort, now felt distant and painful, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. His stories, his wisdom, his gentle touch — they all seemed like distant echoes of a life that was slipping further and further away with each passing moment.

You recalled his final moments, the frailty of his form, the sadness in his eyes as he whispered his last words to you. "Be proud of who you are," he had said, his voice barely a whisper, his breath brushing against your cheek. "And never forget where you come from. Your roots are your strength, my dear." His words had been a lifeline in the storm of your grief, a reminder of the legacy he had left behind, of the love that would endure long after he was gone.

As you stood beside his grave, the words offered little solace. They felt empty, a faint reminder of the warmth once found in his embrace. You longed to reach out to him, to feel the warmth of his touch one last time, to beg for just a moment more in his comforting presence. But he was gone, lost to you forever in a world that seemed infinitely colder and darker without him.

You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely as you whispered your silent goodbyes to him, each word a prayer for his eternal peace. But even as you spoke, you knew that no amount of tears could ever hope to fill the void he had left behind, that no words could ever hope to capture the depth of your loss.

As you stood there, lost in your grief, the soft sound of footsteps approached from behind. You turned to see your mother returning, her eyes red and swollen from tears, her expression etched with the same pain that weighed heavily on your own heart. For a moment, you simply stood there, sharing a silent understanding born from the depths of your shared sadness.

Without a word, she wrapped you in a gentle hug, her arms providing solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. "I'm not sure I can go on without him, Mom," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you buried your face against her shoulder.

Her embrace tightened, her fingers gently combing through your hair. "I feel the same way, sweetheart. But we have to find strength, for his sake," she whispered softly, her words tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination.

As you leaned into her embrace, the weight of your grief seemed to press down upon you, threatening to crush you beneath its relentless force. Your mother's presence briefly brought comfort, like a delicate lifeline amidst the stormy sea of emotions swirling inside you.

"I miss him so much already," you confessed with your voice trembling. "It feels like a part of me is missing, like I'll never be whole again."

Her arms tightened around you, a silent reassurance that you were not alone. "I know, my love. I do too," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "He was the heart of our family, the glue that held us together."

A bittersweet silence fell between you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Memories of your grandfather danced through your mind like flickering candle flames, casting shadows of laughter and love against the walls of your grief-stricken heart.

"Do you think he's watching over us?" you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the evening.

Her hand stilled against your hair. "I'd like to think so," she replied, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "I'd like to believe that he's found peace, that he's somewhere out there, looking down on us with love in his heart."

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined him, a silent guardian in the heavens above, watching over you with a warmth that transcended the boundaries of life and death. "I hope he knows how much we love him," you whispered, your words a fervent prayer whispered into the vast expanse of the sky.

"I'm sure he does, my dear," she murmured, her voice soft with tenderness. "And I know that wherever he is, he'll always be with us, guiding us through the darkness, lighting our way with the love that he left behind."

As your mother's words gently washed over you, a sudden movement caught your eye. In the corner of your vision, a flash of royal blue fluttered amidst the solemn surroundings. You blinked, momentarily startled, before fixing your gaze on the delicate creature that alighted on a nearby branch.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you beheld the bird, its feathers shimmering like fragments of the sky woven into living form. With a heart full of wonder, you watched as it stretched its wings, basking in the fading light of the evening sun.

"We can leave now, if you're ready, sweetheart." her mother murmured, delicately turning her daughter's face to meet her own. 

As your mother looked into your eyes, you could see the sadness reflecting in them, speaking volumes on its own. Although she softly hinted that you could go if you wished, it was evident that she longed for some respite from the weight of your mutual grief. Beneath her calm demeanor, you sensed her vulnerability, a silent plea to escape the overpowering sorrow surrounding you both. With a simple nod, you silently agreed.

With a mix of sadness and resolve, you followed your mother's lead, letting her guide you away from the graveside and back into the world. While you walked together, a quick look back caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the scene you were departing. And there, on top of the gravestone, sat the blue bird, its colorful feathers standing out against the solemn surroundings.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you watched the bird, a silent sentinel overlooking the final resting place of your beloved grandfather. He seemed to look at you, and, if birds could smile, you would swear he did.

2023

You find yourself standing outside a closed door, your hand hesitantly reaching out to lightly tap against the wood. The muffled voices from within only add to your uncertainty, but the urgency of speaking with the team principal before the Abu Dhabi sprint pushes you to take action. Whatever discussion awaits behind that door must be significant enough to pull you away from your pre-race meeting with the mechanics.

In the stillness of the hallway, time seems to stretch endlessly as you wait for a response that never comes. With a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins, you finally muster the courage to grasp the doorknob. Its cool metal provides a fleeting sense of reassurance as you turn it slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest as the door swings open to reveal the dimly lit room beyond.

Inside, seated at a table, is Mr. Vowles, engrossed in conversation. Your presence at the threshold goes unnoticed for a moment until you gather your resolve and speak up, your voice barely above a whisper as you address him.

"Mr. Vowles, did you need to see me?" you venture, your words hanging in the air with a hint of uncertainty.

At the sound of your voice, James looks up, his expression softening into a welcoming smile.

"Williams, come in," he says, his warm tone instantly easing your nerves as he gestures for you to enter. "Have you met Sargeant?" he continues, motioning towards a figure standing nearby, their presence previously hidden in the shadows of the room.

As James mentions Logan, it's like a floodgate of memories bursting open, whisking you back to the time when you and Logan shared an unbreakable bond. You were inseparable, navigating the twists and turns of life at the academy with laughter, support, and a shared vision of the future.

But as the competition for a spot in Formula One heated up, your friendship began to strain. What started as friendly competition slowly morphed into something more complicated. The pressure mounted, and with it came a subtle shift in your relationship. Each race seemed to drive a wedge between you, rather than bringing you closer.

It was at the peak of your rivalry that things started to unravel. Every little disagreement or perceived slight seemed to fester, poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere between you. Despite your efforts to keep up appearances, there was an underlying tension that threatened to fracture your bond.

When Logan secured a seat at Williams while you remained in F2, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. Of course, you were genuinely happy for him, but there was also a pang of envy and disappointment gnawing at your heart. It felt like a piece of your own dream slipping away, leaving you grappling with a sense of loss you couldn't quite shake.

And then, just when you thought things couldn't get any more complicated, James hinted at the possibility of you stepping into Logan's shoes. The idea of replacing your friend-turned-competitor added another layer of complexity to an already tangled web of emotions. It was a constant battle between your ambition and the fear of losing the one person who had been by your side through it all.

"Yes, sir," you respond, choosing a simple response. Logan's gaze meets yours, seeming to ignite with intensity. "We keep on meeting"

In a deliberate choice of silence, Logan sidestepped any engagement with you, his eyes fixed on the team leader instead. "As I was just saying," he began, his voice brimming with confidence, "I truly believe that with these adjustments, I can improve my control over the car."

James reciprocated Logan's smile, though his gaze hinted at a wandering mind. "Sargeant?" he interrupted, signaling a shift in focus to another pressing matter.

"Yes, sir?" Sergeant replied promptly, ready for further instructions.

"We'll talk about this later. Close the door on your way out," James commanded, his tone decisive, drawing their exchange to a close.

As Logan's footsteps faltered on his way out, a pang of unease settled in your chest. You couldn't shake the guilt that crept in, knowing your success might come at the cost of his dreams.

In the relentless world of Formula One, sentimentality was a luxury few could afford. You grappled with the harsh reality that success often meant sacrificing the dreams of others. It was a something you had grappled with since the beginning of your journey, one that forced you to confront the truth that in this fiercely competitive arena, there would always be someone waiting in the wings to take your place if you faltered.

As you redirected your focus towards James, the man who now held the reins of your family's team, you couldn't help but reflect on the rarity of such a moment. Conversations with him had been few and far between, a testament to the typical hierarchy within Formula One teams where direct interaction between a team leader and a junior driver, especially mere hours before a pivotal race, was uncommon.

“Have I done something wrong, sir?” You ventured, a tinge of uncertainty coloring your tone.

"Not at all, quite the opposite actually," James responded, rising from his seat and leaning casually against the table, his arms folded. "Your stats this season are impressive—seven wins, numerous podium finishes. You've got a bright future ahead of you. But here's the thing, every day I see offers come across my desk to buy out your contract, and frankly, I find it amusing."

"Uh, sorry, I'm not following," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.

"Williams, why is it that no team seems to be able to snag you?" James clarified, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. "You're undeniably talented, but turning down offers from big names like Alpine and Alpha Tauri might not be the smartest move."

"To drive their tractor, or worse, become a reserve driver? I don't think so." you remarked with a disbelieving smirk.

"Think about it, a spot at Alpha Tauri could open doors at Red Bull down the line," James suggested, attempting to sway your perspective.

"Everyone knows they have their sights set on Daniel Ricciardo, or Liam Lawson at best" you countered, a note of frustration creeping into your voice. "I'm a bit lost here. Why are you laying all this out for me?" you questioned, a perplexed furrow creasing your brow. You knew full well the offers on the table and why you were declining them. James likely wasn't in the dark about your reasons either.

"I'm just being honest with you," He replied, his tone carrying a hint of earnestness. His hand reached up to rub his forehead, fingers tracing over the lines etched there as if seeking solace in the familiar. "We're on a tight budget," he explained, a touch of resignation in his voice. "We're short on engineers and mechanics compared to almost everyone else, except maybe Haas and Sauber. While we've made progress since last year, I can't promise our car will match up to the competition next season."

James lifted his gaze, fixing it upon you with a mixture of earnestness and concern. "I'm not one to squander talent. I know you've got your reasons for sticking with us, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to have you on board. But I can't move forward without ensuring you understand exactly what you're signing up for."

"I'm just asking for a shot, James. Just one chance to prove that we've still got what it takes," you implored, your words tinged with determination. Images of past triumphs flickered through your mind, a reminder of the team's glory days.

With a weary smile, James let out a soft sigh. "Seems like sheer tenacity runs in the family, huh?"

"They used to say I took after my grandmother," you remarked casually, a wistful grin playing on your lips.

Turning to the desk, the man retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer, his movements deliberate and measured. "What are the odds?"

You knew precisely what he was referring to. "Iwasa's already out of the running. If I take the sprint, I'll have enough points to clinch the championship."

Extending the contract towards you, James presented it as if unveiling a glimpse of what lay ahead. "Win this championship, and the seat is yours."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between you. With the contract poised like a tantalizing promise, the room seemed to hold its breath.

You reached out tentatively, fingers hovering over the document that held the potential to shape your future. The paper felt crisp beneath your touch.

"I know it's a risk, trading one rookie for another" James conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "But I believe in you, and I need someone who believes in this team."

A surge of determination coursed through your veins, bolstered by James's unwavering faith. "I won't let you down," you vowed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.

"TO TOP OFF AN INCREDIBLE SEASON, Y/N WILLIAMS WINS THE ABU DHABI SPRINT AND HAS ENOUGH POINTS TO CROWN HERSELF A CHAMPION." The narrator's voice reverberated through the sprawling circuit, amplifying the momentous declaration that crowned your achievement.

The roar of victory surged through the airwaves as your race engineer's voice erupted over the radio, a symphony of celebration. "You did it, Williams! Formula 2 champion, with one race to spare!"

Amidst the cacophony of cheers echoing from Rodin Carlin's garage, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the weight of your accomplishment settling upon your shoulders like a mantle of triumph. Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, a torrent of exclamations, gratitude, and tears that threatened to overwhelm your senses.

As you gradually eased the car to a decelerating pace, you couldn't help but feel the swell of pride and disbelief wash over you. With trembling hands, you lifted them skyward in a gesture of reverence, a silent tribute to the one who had inspired you journey.

"This one's for you, grandpa," you murmured, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of roaring engines and jubilant cheers. "I hope you're proud up there."

Amidst the jubilant chaos enveloping the pit lane, your thoughts swirled like a tempestuous storm, each emotion vying for dominance in the tumult of your mind. As you joined in the exultant cheers of your team, a sense of disbelief mingled with elation, the reality of your victory sinking in with each heartbeat.

In the midst of the celebration, you couldn't help but steal a moment to glance towards the podium, where your destiny awaited. The anticipation pulsed within you, a heady mixture of excitement and nervous energy propelling youforward.

As you ascended to the highest step, each stride felt like a triumph, a testament to the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice that have led you to this pinnacle moment. Your mind hummed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, a kaleidoscope of memories and aspirations swirling in the depths of your consciousness.

The thunderous roar of the crowd enveloped you like a tidal wave, the sound of applause echoing in your ears as you stand upon the podium, bathed in the radiant glow of the spotlight. Your chest swells with pride, your heart beating in time with the pulsating energy of the spectators.

Locking eyes with James amidst the sea of faces, you feel a surge of excitement washing over you. There's a silent understanding that passes between you, a shared recognition of the journey you will embark upon together. In that fleeting moment, as your gazes meet, you know with a certainty that transcends words— you'll be signing that contract.

With a triumphant smile, you raise the championship trophy high above your head, the weight of your accomplishment buoyed by the unwavering support of your team and your unyielding belief in yourself.

And in the middle of the bustling paddock, a blue bird chirped happily, swooping towards the girl as she lifted the trophy high. It appeared as though he'd be sticking around a while longer.

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3 | italic means i couldn't tag you) :: @formulanni @clownrrari @leilanixx @notyouraveragemochii @alliwantisadonut @oooom4rie @watermelon-sugars-things @glitterquadricorn @minkyungseokie @formulaal @itsjustkhaos @thebearchives @hiireadstuff @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cptg00s3 @welovediaaxx @eugene-emt-roe @cha-hot

[my-religion-greek-myth]

Freedom far away - B

Yap, until my kink is satisfied, I'll keep writing these lol Who knows, once I'm satisfied, I'll stop writing suddenly. I'll prolly writing whole night tho..

Thanks all for liking this. Some of you probably noticed, that this story isn't set in America cuz this is all inspired by my own fanart (Korean Joseon Era), but I try to be subtle about any indications, so you can just imagine as some whre in western or other american town other than westview or salem.

Freeom far away - A

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

The first time you met Agatha and Rio, their presence lingered in your mind long after you exchanged names and hurried home. As you retreated, Rio's voice had called out, "See you later," her tone playful and lilting with a hint of laughter. You did not dare look back, but their gazes had felt almost tangible—slithering and coiling around you as if urging you to turn. It took every ounce of willpower to keep walking, to not succumb to the strange pull that seemed to emanate from them.

Days had passed since that encounter at the well, but their image haunted you. Whether you were studying, eating, or even engaging in conversation with your family, part of your mind was consumed by thoughts of the duo. You found yourself unconsciously touching your right hand, where Agatha's fingers had briefly brushed against yours. No other touch had ever left you feeling so electric, so unsettled. Their memory persisted like a faint melody you could not shake, and you found yourself debating—should you return to the well? Could you face them again? Would they even still be there?

With a deep sigh, you made up your mind. Opening the door to the courtyard, you noticed three servants diligently cleaning. One of them glanced up and immediately bowed when he saw you.

"Is there something you need, milady?" he asked nervously, his voice trembling as if he feared some unspoken reprimand.

You blinked, realising you had been unconsciously glaring in his direction, your mind preoccupied with Agatha and Rio. You opened your mouth to respond but thought better of it, shaking your head instead. You slipped on your shoes and made for the main entrance without another word.

"Where are you going?" came the familiar voice of your younger sister behind you.

You turned sharply, raising an eyebrow at her. Standing beside her was your younger brother, both looking at you with curious expressions.

"Did grandfather send you to keep an eye on me?" you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Your siblings and even the nearby servants visibly recoiled at the authoritative edge in your voice. It was a tone you seldom used, but it had a way of surfacing when you were particularly annoyed—or, in this case, deeply conflicted. And today, your irritation was palpable. The pull towards Agatha and Rio, the confusion they stirred in you, made you want to brush off any interaction with your family and rush to them.

Your sister quickly composed herself, though a frown etched on her face. "I was just asking. No need to snap," she muttered.

"We’re going to Jun’s house for archery practice. Want to come with us?" your younger brother interjected, clearly trying to ease the tension before it could escalate. He knew all too well how quickly tempers could flare between you and your sister.

"No, thank you," you replied curtly. "I have other matters to attend to."

"As if," your sister scoffed. You could almost picture her shaking her head in exasperation, arms crossed in that typical defiant stance of hers. But you did not care. Ignoring her remark, you stepped outside, your pace quickening as you made your way back to the well, determined to see if Agatha and Rio were still there.

---RAR---

The looming shadow of the mountain cast a dark veil over the well, making the place feel unusually eerie despite the daylight. You glanced around nervously, unsure why the familiar space suddenly made your body shiver. Your eyes caught the fluttering ribbons tied to the shaman's tree, their vibrant colours contrasting with the oppressive silence.

"Well, well, we have the pretty lady back here," came a lively voice.

Startled, you jumped and turned to see Rio, her warm brown eyes glinting with amusement as she chuckled softly. In her left hand, however, was a small dagger that gleamed faintly in the dim light. Beside her, Agatha stood poised, her fingers grazing her lips, a faint smile playing on her face as if she were appraising you.

"I told you we'd meet again, didn’t I?" Rio said, her steps deliberate and confident as she walked toward you.

Instinctively, you stepped back, but in your haste, your heel caught the edge of the well. Your breath hitched as you felt yourself teetering backward, the dark depths of the well below you. Before you could fall, a firm hand grabbed your arm. Rio, her grip strong yet gentle, pulled you back to safety.

The touch sent a jolt through you—an unfamiliar sensation that made time to slow. You had read about such moments in the romantic novels you had secretly consumed with your noble friends, moments you had laughed at for their absurdity. Yet here it was, and it was undeniably real. A sudden warmth spread across your face as you realised what had happened. Rio smirked, her gaze sharp yet teasing.

"Oh, don’t tell me you’re blushing, doll," Agatha said, her melodic laughter carrying a mischievous edge. She stepped closer, her ocean-blue eyes darkening briefly, like the sky before a storm. For a moment, you could not decide whether her eyes were a deep navy or an ethereal blue, but you knew they were the most captivating thing you had ever seen.

Before you could reply, Rio suddenly pulled you closer. Your face pressed against her chest—a distinctly feminine curve beneath the garments that suggested otherwise. Her warmth and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat enveloped you in a strange comfort. Without thinking, your arms circled her in an unconscious embrace.

Agatha pouted dramatically, crossing her arms as she watched. "Seems someone’s getting all the attention," she remarked, her tone playfully aggrieved.

"Don’t worry," Rio murmured above you, her voice teasingly soft as her breath tickled your hair. "I think the pretty lady has enough love for both of us."

The comment made you stiffen. You pushed against Rio’s chest, but she let you go with an easy laugh, nudging you backward—right into Agatha’s arms.

You gasped as you felt Agatha’s hands steady you, her grip firm yet gentle around your middle. Her scent—subtle and intoxicating—filled your senses as she leaned down, resting her chin lightly on your head.

"You smell nice, doll," Agatha murmured, her voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart raced your mind a whirl of confusion and resistance. You had come to the well seeking answers to the strange pull you felt toward them, but now they were toying with you, unravelling your composure as if it were child’s play.

"Why are you here, pretty lady?" Rio asked, stepping closer. Her long fingers lifted your chin effortlessly, forcing your gaze to meet hers.

You froze, unable to look away. Her darkened eyes were filled with a predatory intensity that made her presence feel overwhelming. Behind you, Agatha’s hands brushed through your hair, loosening it from its neat styling. The gentle motion was so intimate that it made your breath hitch again.

"Answer her, doll," Agatha’s voice purred in your ear, her warm breath caressing your skin.

You could not speak. The sensations overwhelmed you; Rio’s fingers tracing your face, Agatha’s hand trailing through your hair, the suffocating awareness of their proximity.

"How are we supposed to get to know you if you won’t answer?" Rio whispered, her face now so close to yours that her nose almost brushed against yours.

Agatha’s fingers tangled gently in your hair, her touch sending a new wave of shivers through your body. You were caught between them, their presence intoxicating and inescapable, as if the world had narrowed to just the three of you. You did not know whether to flee or surrender to the strange pull that bound you to them.

"I'm…" Your voice trembled. "I'm not scared of you two."

"That's not an answer," Agatha's voice carried a hint of a frown, but it softened quickly. "But I'm glad you're not scared of us." Her lips brushed lightly against your ear, sending a burning sensation through it.

"I can't stop thinking about you two," you finally admitted, gulping hard.

Rio pulled her face back, and, to your surprise, you felt a pang of disappointment.

"Why?" Rio asked, tilting her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief as they roamed over you. "We only told you our names."

"That's why I'm here," you said, frustration bubbling up. "I've never felt like this in my life!"

Agatha chuckled, her laugh light but somehow weighted with something you could not identify. She finally released you, and seizing the moment, you stepped back. Both of them watched you with amusement, their darkened eyes betraying some unreadable intent you could not comprehend.

"You’ve never been in love before?" Agatha asked, smiling that same captivating smile she had worn when you first met. It was hypnotic, alluring—utterly impossible to look away from.

Your eyes widened. Love? The very idea made your stomach twist. Love? With them? You had only just met them, and to feel this way for two people at the same time? It defied all logic and everything you had ever been taught.

You took another step back, and still, they did not stop you. Their smiles only grew wider.

Panic surged within you, and you turned, fleeing towards the safety of your home.

As you ran, Agatha’s melodic voice rang out behind you, the sound trailing you like a spell.

"See you later, doll!"

---RAR---

Your footsteps thundered against the path as you bolted away from the well. Your mind was a cacophony of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, and a simmering warmth you could not quite place. Love? How absurd, you thought, shaking your head. You had only just met them. And two people? At once? The very idea seemed preposterous, something out of fanciful tales told to wide-eyed children.

The cool air brushed your face, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks. You could not forget the way Agatha’s lips brushed your ear or Rio’s gaze seemed to peel back every layer of your being, leaving you bare and exposed.

As you reached the entrance of your household, you slowed to a halt, clutching your chest as you tried to steady your racing heart. What was it about them? Their presence was unlike anything you had ever encountered—intoxicating, overwhelming, and magnetic.

"Milady?" a servant called, stepping cautiously into the courtyard from the backyard. "Is everything alright?"

You startled slightly, realising how dishevelled you must have looked from running. Straightening your posture, you smoothed your dress and forced a neutral expression onto your face.

"Yes," you replied curtly, brushing past her and heading toward your chambers.

Once inside, you closed the door firmly and leaned against it. The silence of the room felt suffocating, yet your thoughts continued to churn. Despite your attempts to banish them from your mind, their faces—Agatha’s piercing, ocean-like eyes and Rio’s mischievous grin—kept invading your thoughts.

You slid down against the door, your knees drawing up to your chest. What are they doing to me? You could not shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

[back2bluesidex]

Six Degrees of Separation - MYG [Preview]

✨ Patreon Membership Exclusive Series ✨

Pairing: Best Friend Yoongi X Female Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au, pining, more angst, eventual cheating and smut and fluff.

Word count: Each part will contain 1k to 2k words.

Summary: Break up hurts, but being rejected by the man you have loved for five solid years and losing him and his friendship in one damn night - only for him to show up a year later holding your cousin's hand all ready to tie the knot hurts more.

Break up hurts, but going through all six degrees of separation from the Man who was never yours - hurts a lot more.

Warnings: heartbreak, rejection.

Update Schedule: Every Tuesday 4:30 am UTC.

Read the full chapter

Chapter index:

Prologue -> Degree 1: Shock -> Degree 2: Denial and Desperation -> Degree 3: Anger and Betrayal -> Degree 4: Depression -> Degree 5: Acceptance -> Degree 6: Moving on -> The Gaps of the Theory -> The Exceptional Case -> ? -> ? -> ?

“So, do you have anyone under your radar? Anyone you like?” Yoongi is funnily interested now. It’s probably the most interested he has been in your love-life. 

Again, the reasons stay unaware.  

“Yes. Yes, I do.” You manage to utter, heart already acting wild inside your ribcage. 

“Really? Who is it? Do I know him?” Your best friend perks up. 

Curiosity makes him look so young. You see the young, twenty one years old Yoongi whom you met through Jimin. You see the Yoongi with mint hair too focused on the bottle of your nail polish reading the chemicals that it contains, you see the twenty three year old boy who waited for you at the hospital lobby when you banged your head against the corner of your bed, you see the twenty four year old man who cried like a baby in your embrace when his grandfather passed away - right then you realized you never wanted to see him cry again. Right then you realized Yoongi’s happiness means more to you than your own. 

You see the twenty five year old Yoongi, the Yoongi who made you realize what jealousy is, the Yoongi who made you realize - you had fallen in love with him. 

“It’s you. I am in love with you.” it’s not you, it’s the memories you share with him that makes you speak, that makes you confess. You never meant to say these words without any preparation, you never meant to say these words until you reach your breaking point - maybe you have reached it after five years?

Your chain of thought has clouded your head so much that your mouth ran in its own accord.

And you regret it. 

You regret letting out the truth you have successfully hidden for the past five years because the look you see in Yoongi’s face can’t be compared to anything you have seen before. 

It’s a mixture of disgust, disappointment and hurt.

“W-what? Y/N you can’t-” 

“Why can’t I, Yoongi? Is it forbidden for me to love you?” You chuckle dryly. 

Yoongi closes his eyes, runs a hand through his hair and sighs deeply. “If this is a prank, Y/N, I-” 

“It’s not a prank, Yoongi! I love you! I really do. I have been in love with you for the last five years but you are just too blind to see!”     

Yoongi turns his back towards you, as if looking at your face will pollute his vision now, “I wasn’t blind. I was just-  was just praying to be wrong, Y/N! Damn it! This is not right. You and I, we are friends! This is not-” 

While you have been praying for Yoongi to feel the same, Yoongi has been praying for the complete opposite. As his words sink in your blood, your vision starts blurring. 

“Yoongi, can’t you try?” You plead. Never in your life have you ever considered pleading with anyone for love - but when it comes to Min Yoongi, your resolves don’t last long. 

“No! No, Y/N! I can’t. You are my friend. My best friend. I can’t see you as anything else!” He finally looks at you, looks into you and rows his words deep in your soul. 

Yoongi takes a step back from your figure, then another, then another, “and just so you know… I have someone.” 

With that he walks away in the opposite direction, leaving you behind. 

The first stage of separation is Shock. 

They say shock happens on both physical and psychological level, that it leaves you feeling out of your own body.

As you stare at his retreating figure with tears making a mess on your face, you realize, you just reached the first degree of separation from Min Yoongi - a man who was never yours to begin with.

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a

part two: the caretaker and the sister   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

iv. the caretaker

“gonna be real, i’m sure you know why we’re looking at you funny.” jungkook was blunt, but you had to give him kudos for it.

  “oh, why is that?” you replied dryly, 

  the way you had narrowed it down for your parents seemed more simple in your head when you rehearsed it a dozen times over before having each individual sit-down. the property was just going to rot and go to waste. it’s what grandpa would have wanted. so many sweet words intertwined with one another, but not once did you mention your perpetual unhappiness.

  explaining it to two people who were essentially strangers should have been easier, but something told you that the look jungkook was giving you hinted that he knew there was more of a story than that. on the other hand, namjoon, who was still confused by the entire conversation somehow, either didn’t care to ask or knew it wasn’t his place to press. 

  by his sympathetic glance towards your dirty duffel bag, it seemed to be the latter. he slowly came to the ground from his horse and gave you one of those sweet smiles that only a gentleman from the countryside could give. it was the same one your grandpa and jungkook had.

  namjoon gestured down the road. “need a ride into town?”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when namjoon said “ride” and then your eyes fell on the beautiful stallion that he had a gentle hand on. oh. somehow, the idea made you stomach drop and you were shocked to find that.

  “what’s wrong? we used to ride all the time when we were kids,” jungkook said, having read the expression formed on your face.

  one of the thing that your mom warned you about was that no one was going to take you seriously in the valley. your grandfather was a well seasoned farmer, as the property had been passed down for generations until your mom declined the responsiblity. and, of course, you grew up in the city and you definitely looked like it. there wasn’t another reason to add onto this obstacle.

  you shook your head. “i, uh, injured my ankle a week back. pilates.” a hollow chuckle that jungkook and namjoon overlooked and nodded in understanding. “so, it’s best if i don’t ride into town.”

  you weren’t sure why the idea of getting on a horse made you nervous. it had been many years, but there was a time where you rode more often than you walked on your own two legs. pushing the feelings away to deal with another time, there was a bigger issue at hand. the movers were likely going to make it to the farm before you were at this rate.

  “oh, no worries! stay put, we’ll come back for ya,” jungkook said, “shouldn’t take long. you’ll be okay waiting here?”

  you smiled and nodded, giving the two kind semi-strangers a thank you and off they went. 

  it was a relief that small-town hospitality was a thing. you hoped that would be the case, as you remembered amber valley to be a tight-knit community, as everyone knew each other. this left you to wonder who else you would be encountering in your new life here from your past. there weren’t too many kids your age growing up and you assumed that most of them would want to leave the valley like you did, given the lack of opportunitites. you wondered why jungkook and namjoon were still around.

  although you were just standing on the side of the road alone, you didn’t feel unsafe at all. after all, your grandpa would allow you and jungkook to roam around the town until late at night with no supervision when you were kids. there was not a single vehicle that passed by as you waited. if you hadn’t gotten namjoon’s attention as he was riding by, you were going to end up hitchhiking and probably in the wrong direction, too.

soon enough, you saw a car in the distance and you breathed a sigh of relief. a baby blue mustang, its age was apparent by the blaring roar of its engine and clank of its metal. coming to a stop, the windows rolled down and you gave a small wave.

  while jungkook sat at the passenger’s seat, there was a different face behind the steering wheel. another person around your age, you couldn’t recognize him by face, even calculating his smile that reached his eyes. however, when he opened his mouth, the man’s voice hit you like a truck.

  “hi, you’re - “

  “park jimin?” you gaped.

  the park family ran a generation spanning fishing business in amber valley and your mom was once high school sweethearts with jimin’s father. that’s why his mom was particularly snippy with you as a child and didn’t want you hanging around her son, feeding him ideas of how evil you apparently were - or so, that’s what the gossip from jungkook’s mom was. the three of you were baking cookies one day and jungkook wanted to drop some off to jimin. you went along and jimin called you a witch, so when you cried the entire walk back to jungkook’s house, his mom told you not to worry and that his mom was just a bit petty. ever since that day on until your last summer in amber valley, you declared jimin an enemy after realizing why he had done the same to you.

  jimin peered over, analyzing your face for a few seconds. beside him, you could see jungkook noticeably stifling a laugh. when the realization clocked in, jimin mirrored your slightly dropped jaw.

  he couldn’t help but laugh. “oh shit, you’re bunny.” there was no sense of resentment or snarkiness, which was surprising with your history - but, then again, this wide-eyed individual with the sweetest smile you’d ever seen was nothing like your childhood bully.

  “i remember one time you ripped all of my silly bandz. you were evil!” jimin exclaimed.

  once you got into the backseat, duffle bag nestled beside you, the atmosphere was actually quite lively. a beyonce album from the 2000s was shuffled in the background and although the road was bumpy and old, no one seemed to mind. you raised your eyebrows, trying to recall jimin’s anecdone.

  jungkook added in, “yup, you guys hated each other. i had to play peacemaker all the time.”

  “hmm…” you trailed off. “oh yeah. i think you had to physically hold me back from jimin a few times.”

  apparently, from “forcing” jungkook to eat mud and terrorizing jimin’s dinosaur silly bandz collection, you were a menace. thankfully, it was all fun and games, as the three of you exchanged giggles about being kids in the valley. slowly, piece by piece, you were grasping some memories that you didn’t even know were tucked away at the back of your mind.

  jungkook looked at you from the mirror. “you doing okay? we’ll be reaching the farm in a few minutes.”

  “where did namjoon run off to again? i was supposed to lend him something,” jimin said.

  “something about helping his dad with something, i dunno,” jungkook shrugged at jimin and then turned back to you. “he says good luck with moving in, by the way, and that he would have helped out if he could.”

  jimin sighed. “he’s always at the beck and call of mayor kim. poor guy just wants to get out of here.” you assumed he was talking about amber valley as a whole. 

  this made you a bit curious, thinking again why these young adults were sticking around the small town. the average demographic for the town was definitely on the older side, from what you saw at your grandfather’s funeral service. you ended up asking what both of them did and while you noticed jungkook go quiet, jimin piped in.

  “just helping my parents out with the family business, probably become the owner when they retire. i actually don’t mind it here and i could see myself staying here - “

  “ - that’s because you’ve never left your entire life,” jungkook interjected.

  “and it’s great! except the dating pool is a bit shallow. gotta figure that out.” jimin’s pout made you laugh and made it feel even more bewildering that this was the little brat from your childhood.

  eventually, you all drove right past the path leading into the centre of town and made a sharp turn towards another dirt path that had a singular route to your grandfather’s property. the lively air of the conversation distracted you from the confrontation due, despite your hasty acceptance of your new role. the last two weeks had been a whirlwind and you grew anxious of what it would feel like to see your grandfather’s greatest pride and joy once again.

  it’d been almost half a year since your grandfather’s passing and you prepared yourself for extensive work on the farm. there were also floating questions about the property that you weren’t sure who to ask. the property was in your name and the transition to move happened in the blink of an eye. but, what about grandpa’s other possessions? the animals? the furniture?

  the moving truck was already parked out front and checking the time on your phone, you were relieved to see that you weren’t too late past the agreed arrival time. the three of you exited the car and you gave the two men a warm smile.

  “hey, thanks for the ride. i really appreciate it, i would’ve been toast without your guys’ help.”

  “it’s no problem at all! i think it’s really cool you’re taking over the farm, keeping it in the family,” jimin replied. “plus, we’ll probably be business partners. don’t worry, my days of being a pain in the ass are over.”

  the two of you laughed and exchanged a playful handshake. meanwhile, jungkook took out your duffel bag from the trunk for you and walked over. you thanked him and took the bag from him, quietly impressed by his quick chivalry. 

  jungkook smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile just a little bit wider. “do you need help with anything, by the way?“

  “oh, no! trust me, you have definitely helped enough.” you waved him off. the neighbourly spirit was definitely strong in amber valley, but you already felt bad about having them fetch a whole car because the idea of you riding a horse was going to give you  a heart attack.

  “you sure?” jimin added.

  you said, “absolutely. the movers got most of it anyway.” you were slightly worried about exploring the property and looking at the state of it, but that was just the first task you had to take care of in your new role.

  “alright, cool. well, i hope to see you around! jungkook, you’re good?” jimin turned to the other male, who nodded. “nice. see ya then!” and just like that, jimin was off. a ray of sunshine, but seemed like the type who was always on his feet.

  you were confused why jungkook didn’t leave with jimin and then you remember he lived about a five minute walk away. that reminded you why the two of you seemed to never leave each other’s sides.

  “okay. you probably remember where everything is, but the chickens were fed this morning and - “ jungkook started and you were confused. what was he talking about?

  “wait, has someone been taking care of the farm?”

  you finally got a good look around the front and you realized everything looked. . .normal. it was exactly like how it looked in your memories, when your grandfather took meticulous care of the property. the grass was cut and emerald green, not missing a day of water. 

  your grandfather’s farmhouse had never gotten an renovation since being built and while it certainly showed, the age of the house accentuated a certain charm that only old houses gained over the years. the wrap-around porch was still in tact, despite its chipped paint. its unique bright red roof faded into a dirty maroon, losing remnants of what was your mother’s favourite colour, which your grandfather had customized the roof to match. the shrubbery around the house was overgrown, but didn’t look like it had been so for nearly half a year, indicating there was maintenance at some point between now and then.

  jungkook took a second to speak. “well, your mom was paying for basic maintenance every now and then. for the grass and stuff.”

  you didn’t know that, but you weren’t too surprised. after your grandpa died, there was really no talk about where his property was going to go. you didn’t know that he had left it to you, but you later found out that your mother was actually aware of this, but assumed you would be disinterested and didn’t say anything to you. 

  “i guess she thought i wouldn’t care about the property and took matters into her own hands,” you shrugged. “but, sorry, you said something about the chickens? and what about the fields?”

  he put his hands into his pockets. “well, you know before your grandpa passed i was helping him around the farm and stuff. i just. . .kind of continued even after.”

  you responded, “you’ve been taking care of the farm?”

  you weren’t sure how to feel. you were certainly shocked, having not understood how truly deep jungkook’s relationship with your grandfather ran. for him to come out to the farm and perform labour on his own accord, as well as the way jungkook spoke about him, there was a true sense of care involved. 

  “well, yeah. there was no one else to do it. your grandpa worked all his life to grow this place and i didn’t want any of it to go to waste. i wasn’t sure what the situation was with the property until you came today, but the animals had nowhere to go!” jungkook seemed genuinely exasperated by the situation. “don’t worry, it’s not like i’ve been profiting off of his animals. i’ve used everything just to back into taking care of the farm and it’s been just enough, since there aren’t any crops.”

  “jungkook. . .” you were left speechless. you couldn’t believe how golden of a heart this man really had to be keeping your grandfather’s memory alive, all behind the scenes and for no recognition.

  he just chuckled. “look, i’m not just glad someone is here now to get things up and running again, but the fact that it’s you. you’re the perfect person for this.”

  “am i?” you asked, looking down at the ground. you were about to fill some really big shoes and you knew it. those words of affirmation meant the world to you, suddenly feeling immense pressure on your back once actually seeing the farm in person for the first time in years.

  jungkook said, without missing a beat, “of course. you’re here because you care about your grandpa’s legacy and all the work he’s done, i can see it in your eyes. you’ll be a natural, don’t worry - i’m sure all the little things are gonna come back to you!” he was so confident and you couldn’t believe it. you could only try to hope he was right.

  “hey. . .” you began and couldn’t help but approach him. he seemed to share the same idea as you and opened his arms at the same time you did, enveloping you in a hug. neither one of you knew that the other had tears forming. “thank you, jungkook.”

  “of course. maybe it’s actually best that i show you where everything is?”

  you agreed without hesitation. after making sure that the movers didn’t need anything from you, the two of you left to embark on a quick tour of the property and its different buildings. when you were little, everything on the farm seemed so big and far and the entire world seemed to be unimaginatively endless. now, as an adult, things seemed just as daunting with the new chapter in your life, despite things not looking as big and far. 

  after an hour or so, jungkook said his goodbye and the movers had long finished their job. now, with your grandfather’s farmhouse living room filled to the brim with cardboard boxes and wrapped up furniture, you knew there was a lot ahead of you. you made a cup of tea and before getting to anything, found yourself outside and sitting criss-cross on the steps to the front door, wondering what was to come next. 

  v. the sister

there was just one grocery store in town, about half a kilometre of a walk and wasn’t going to pose any trouble for your vehicle-less self. this was your first time going into town since moving in, having been cooped up and living off of ramen noodles since you lacked the energy to go grocery shopping. friday night, after finishing work for the day and unpacking the last of your boxes, you decided to put on your big girl pants and run some errands.

  the first few days on the farm were exhausting, to say the least. thankfully, because of jungkook’s help and your mother’s contributions to the property, it was a lot less work than you remembered. you performed many of the tasks naturally, having spent summers doing the same thing over and over again. this didn’t mean you weren’t tiring come the weekend and you just wanted your trip to be a quick in and out.

  with an hour to closing, the store was basically empty and this gave you a sense of relief. you walked in, wearing stained sweatpants that were far older than you were willing to admit and your hair held up into a messy updo by a claw clip. 

  after about ten minutes, you were in the cereal aisle and deciding on if you wanted to pick out the one with the best cartoon on the cover or the one with the best nutritional value. this is when you felt something tugging on your pant leg.

  “oh..? oh!”

  you jumped slightly when you saw it was a beagle with the cutest eyes you’d ever seen. noticing the dog lacked a leash or collar or any kind, you quickly put the cereal you had been inspecting back on the shelf and crouched down.

  you whispered, “who do we have here?” your own eyes softened, as you crouched down to pet the tiny animal. 

  from behind you, you hear the sound of spongy footsteps - almost like a squeak with each step. turning around, you were met with a little girl and realized the squeakiness was coming from her hot pink light up sneakers, the kind that only ever made noise on tiled flooring. with a leash that matched the colour of her shoes perfectly in hand, her distress visibly eased upon laying eyes on you and the dog.

  “oh, peanut! oppa is gonna be so mad at me,” she gasped, immediately enveloping the puppy into her arms and re-attached the leash. looking at her, she couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

  still crouched on the ground and meeting her at eye-level, you asked, “are you okay?”

  “sorry, yeah! it just looked like she needed a second, so i took it off.” her frown, despite how distraught she was, was adorable. “thank you, miss!”

  so much for the in and out. you didn’t mind, though, as peanut approached you again and jumped up, narrowly missing your face with an excitable lick. you giggled in a way you hadn’t in a while, petting the puppy. 

  soon enough, another round of frantic footsteps followed. you looked up and weren’t surprised to see a familiar face.

  “jiwon, how many times have i told you to keep peanut leashed when we’re inside the store?”

  honestly, it was to your luck that you ran into jungkook here. after he left you at the farm on your first day, you realized you didn’t get his contact information. you were definitely considering it as he gave you a quick tour of where everything you needed was, but the idea of asking a man for his number for any given reason made your stomach jump. thankfully you didn’t need immediate assistance, save for the various things that were just broken around the property, but it would have been useful.

  clad in a graphic muscle shirt depicting a band you didn’t recognize, you couldn’t help but admire the way his tattoos were exposed and adorned his arms. you had to snap out of it. he finally made eye contact you and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

  “y/n. how’s your first week gone?”

“oppa, why are you making your voice sound like that - “

  jungkook cleared his throat. “shut it, jiwon.” you thought you saw his ears turned pink, but he adjusted the baseball cap on his head and his hair fell down to cover them.

  you looked between the two of them, confused. who was this little girl? putting the thought at the back of your mind, you opened your mouth to answer his question when two other figures began to approach.

  “hey! there you guys are - we got the cake.”

  you’d never seen so many people wear cowboy hats in one place than amber valley and this individual was no exception. he was easily one of the most handsome men you had ever physically laid eyes on - what was with this town? and of course, blue jeans. the friend beside him was also incredibly good looking, but dressed more like your neighbour from your old apartment complex and stood out against the other people you’d seen in town. apple watch, expensive nike dunks and a hoodie from an instagram streetwear brand that recently blew up.

  “who’s this?” the first man asked and his gaze made you a little more frozen than you were willing to admit.

  jungkook replied, “this is y/n. she’s taking over the old farm, it was her grandpa’s.” 

  “oh, i’m sorry for your loss. welcome to amber valley, though. i’m taehyung,” he smiled and offered his hand, which you took. “i’m new, too. i moved here last year.”

  the other man also offered you his hand. “i’m yoongi. welcome to amber valley - good luck.”

  “i’m not new - wait what?” you looked at yoongi, confused. “what do you mean, good luck?”

  the other three began chuckling amongst themselves. yoongi only looked exasperated. you raised an eyebrow.

  jiwon cut in. “yoongi says he got tricked.”

  “tricked?”

  “tricked to come here,” taehyung said, in between his laughs. “he’s from the city, something about his realtor lying to him about what the town’s like before he moved here.”

  yoongi rolled his eyes. “it’s not a joke - i didn’t know i would be moving to the middle of nowhere!”

  you learned that yoongi was a computer programmer and lived at home, worked from home, and hated leaving his home. he stayed in amber valley because on the few occasions he was forced to go into the office, it was only a short drive to where his company’s headquarters were in the next town over. 

  “i mean, it’s definitely different from the city. . .” you tried to offer, but yoongi waved it off. his friends were just amused and you could see the tiniest smile at that, so you assumed he wasn’t totally unhappy.

  meanwhile, taehyung proudly declared that he - wait for it - chose to move to amber valley. he was a novelist and moving to the town inspired the setting for the newest manuscript he was working on.

  “i love it here, it’s really peaceful,” he said.

  the last to be introduced was jiwon, whose appearance baffled you more and more when you looked at her. it was because she looked just like jungkook. and she was calling him oppa. you put two and two eventually.

  “my annoying little sister.” jungkook reached over, but jiwon instantly slapped his hand away from her head, as if on instinct. 

  there wasn’t too much surprise at the sibling you’d never met before, just a little bewildering to think a whole new human was made while you were gone from amber valley. after all, jungkook’s parents were relatively young, both the same age your own parents, who had you at nineteen. this explained two main things in your childhood, the first being why it was a no-hesitation decision for your parents to send you away to your grandfather’s care over the summer. free childcare was incredibly unreliable in the city and it was just easier for them.

  and, of course, like most kids from the valley, your mom grew up alongside jungkook’s parents. for that, it was encouraged and even expected for the two of you to eventually become friends. there was also a high level of trust because of this. out late biking with jungkook? oh, you’re with jungkook, it should be fine. left unsupervised on the fields? it’s okay, you and jungkook would look after each other.

  “it’s nice to meet you all. it’s a little weird that you have a little sister this grown now - has it really been that long since i left?” you shook your head.

  jungkook only laughed. “longest nine years of my life since this brat was born.”

  “hey!”

  “your mom did always say she wanted a daughter,” you attempted to joke, but ceased when you saw the atmosphere explicitly shift. 

  taehyung and yoongi looked away, eyes darting anywhere but the current conversation. jiwon looked like she had just seen a ghost. on the other hand, jungkook’s expression went blank. what the hell did you do wrong?  

it was taehyung who broke the silence. “hey, jiwon. wanna go pick out a card for jin?” 

  jiwon nodded enthusiastically - a little too enthusiastic. she happily skipped away, giving peanut’s leash over to jungkook, and yoongi and taehyung both left with her. 

  “i’m so sorry, was it something i said?” you blurted to jungkook, as soon as the three were out of your line of sight. what a horrible first impression you must have just made.

  jungkook said, “ah, no, it’s nothing, really. . .there is something you should know, though.” he took a second, as if preparing himself. “you see, my mom and dad passed away six years ago.”

  “what?”

  the familiar feeling of grief struck you like a lightning bolt, causing your chest to drop and you blood to run cold. you thought you heard him wrong. six years ago? your grandpa never told you this - or maybe he did and it went in one ear and out the other. you couldn’t believe it, your body frozen and detached. 

  “hey, it’s okay, you couldn’t have known.” he reached over and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, instantly calming you down at his touch. 

  you shook your head anyway. “i’m so sorry, jungkook.” you didn’t know what else to say.

  “really, it’s fine,” he broke out into a light chuckle. “it was an accident and it happened a long time ago. it’s just a bit hard on jiwon because she doesn’t really remember them.”

  “oh, i feel awful!”

  “it’s okay, y/n,” jungkook continued to assure you, while peanut just looked up at you with those big eyes.

  you still didn’t seem to find the words, as you mentally grasped at any remaining memories of jungkook’s parents. they were always around during the summer and were always so good to you. they cared for you like one of their own. jungkook’s mom always joked that you were the daughter she always wanted.

  jungkook decided to be the one to change the subject, even though you had lingering questions about his and jiwon’s situation. he told you the reason why the four of you were in the grocery store in the first place, talking your ear off about how excited he was for his friend’s birthday party tomorrow.

  “we’re throwing him a surprise party at the local pub - well, i guess it’s the only one in town,” he prattled and looked at his feet. “do you, uh, want to come? it’ll be a lot of fun.”

  you felt your cheeks turn hot. “oh, i really shouldn’t intrude - “ something about jungkook inviting you out to a social setting made you nervous like a school girl.

  “no! no, it’s no intrusion at all,” jungkook interjected, “trust me! there aren’t a lot of people our age in town and we’re all pretty close, so it’d be nice if you could meet everyone, too. jin is a really friendly person, he’ll want to meet you and make sure you’re fitting in well and everything.”

  you paused. “i don’t know. . .”

  “think about it!” he continued to insist, as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone from his back pocket. oh no. now, you were really frozen in place.

  what was it about the way jungkook made you so nervous? this was literally the little boy that used to cry if your beyblade was stronger than his. you couldn’t believe yourself.

  jungkook tapped on his phone a few time and then turned it around for you. “put in your contact. i’ll text you sometime tomorrow afternoon and see if you made your mind up?”

you did, in fact, give jeon jungkook your number. your hands were quivering ever so slightly when you did, but at least you didn’t have to be the one to ask. it gave you heavy relief that you didn’t have to be the one to text first either. but, then, you came to terms with the fact that you were certainly going to be checking your phone every two minutes for a text from the man in question. this was insane.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822@seokout @firelcrds

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Chapter two)

Pairing | John Wick x Original Fem! Character

Summary | In search of a breath in his tumultuous life, John Wick finds himself in a charming bookstore where he meets a sweet and welcoming woman. As they grow closer, John questions whether she can love him despite the dark secrets he carries. While battling the shadows of his past, he must protect the love that is blossoming and discover if hope and redemption are truly possible.

Word Count | 3.1k

A/N | Hey guys! In this chapter, I tried to show John’s work and a bit of Mia’s struggles. Sorry if there are any mistakes in my writing 🤫

Previous chapter!

At the back of the bookstore, Mia should have been busy shelving the new books that had arrived, but her attention was quickly diverted by a small romance novel. The cover was captivating, and as she flipped through the pages, a wave of warmth spread across her face, leaving her cheeks slightly flushed. With an involuntary smile, she let out a small giggle, immersed in the unfolding story. However, reality soon pulled her back: she had promised to stop by the market with her aunt later, and time was already ticking. Quickly setting the book aside, she knew she would soon have to close the bookstore and leave.

Mia sighed, still with a faint smile, as she returned her focus to the shelves. The smell of new paper and the familiarity of the books comforted her, almost like a warm embrace. She carefully organized the volumes, reminding herself of the promise she had made to her grandfather before he passed away: to take care of the place that meant so much to them both. The bookstore was a refuge filled with memories and shared laughter, and now more than ever, she felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.

As she worked, her eyes drifted to the window, where the sunlight was beginning to fade, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. The contrast between the beauty of the moment and the internal struggle she faced made her sigh again. Keeping the bookstore alive in a world increasingly indifferent to places like it was a constant challenge. She remembered the conversations she had had with her grandfather about the dream of passing the bookstore down, and that pushed her to fight for the legacy.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who cares," she murmured while arranging a few more books. Despite the difficulties, the love she felt for the bookstore kept her going. She knew that every book there wasn't just an object but a doorway to other worlds. And as long as she could, she would do everything possible to protect that special place.

A light knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. A customer walked in, interrupting her introspection, looking around with a curious air.

"Good afternoon! Can I help you with something?" Mia asked, keeping a warm smile on her face, although her mind was still a bit distant.

The customer hesitated before answering, “Oh, yes! I’m looking for something about history. Any recommendations?”

Mia immediately brightened up. “We have great titles in the history section. I can show you a few I often recommend.” She walked over to the shelf, feeling the enthusiasm grow with each step. The bookstore always had that effect on her; even on difficult days, her love for books and the connections they brought made her feel more alive.

As she guided the customer, Mia cast a brief glance at the window, where the sky was already darkening, tinged with soft shades of blue and purple. She knew she’d have to leave soon to meet her aunt at the market, but she couldn’t close the store now with customers to serve.

“Mia!” Tom called, appearing from the back with a box full of new books. His usual carefree smile lit up his face. “Need help with the customer up front? I can give you a hand.”

She smiled, accustomed to his lighthearted tone. “Actually, I’m about to head out. I need to help my aunt at the market. Can you manage on your own for a bit?”

Tom feigned a look of concern, placing a hand on his chest. “On my own? I’ll try not to let the place fall apart.”

“You’ll be fine,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Just don’t suggest a cookbook to someone looking for adventure.”

“Got it,” he winked, with a grin. “Come back soon, or I might end up selling a mystery to someone looking for romance.”

“Just don’t let the customer leave without buying something,” Mia laughed, feeling lighter as she headed to the door.

Outside the bookstore, Mia noticed a crowd gathered near a fancy nightclub at the end of the street, its flashing lights twinkling like stars in the night sky. The distant sound of laughter and vibrant music reached her, suggesting something interesting was happening inside. Though curious, she knew she didn’t have time to get distracted.

With a soft sigh, Mia put on her long gray coat, which wrapped around her like a cozy embrace against the chilly wind. As she walked away from the bookstore, she cast one last glance at the nightclub, imagining the stories that might be unfolding inside.

Inside, however, another story was already in progress. The ceiling lights flashed frantically, and the loud music echoed everywhere, but John remained focused. The target was at the center of attention, surrounded by women laughing and dancing around him, a scene that only reinforced the superficiality of those people. A dishonest smile spread across the man’s face, and it made John’s stomach churn. He had a job to do, and none of that distracted him.

He positioned himself in a shadow, observing from a distance. The voices were a blur, the music a distant wave, while his mind focused only on the task at hand. The festive atmosphere was a stark contrast to the coldness enveloping his heart. The world around him became just a backdrop as he prepared to move.

John moved with precision, each step planned and calculated. He infiltrated the crowd, his presence almost invisible, like a ghost passing unnoticed. The laughter and pulsating music around him became distant noise; his only concern was the man who stood out among the rest.

He identified two security guards nearby, chatting casually, their attention drawn to the nightclub’s lively scene. Seizing the distraction, John approached silently, his trained body moving with almost supernatural grace. With a swift move, he neutralized the first guard, a precise strike that left him unconscious before he could make a sound.

The second guard had no time to react. In a split second, John was already on him, using the silenced weapon for a clean shot. The man fell, unaware of what had just happened. Now, only the target remained standing, surrounded by admirers who seemed oblivious to the approaching threat.

John adjusted his aim, feeling the adrenaline surge through his veins. The man, still laughing and enjoying himself, had no idea what was about to happen. He pulled the trigger, and with a single shot, the man fell, his smile frozen on his face.

The music continued to play, but a murmur of confusion began to spread as people around started to notice the scene. John, keeping calm, quickly withdrew. His experience had taught him always to have an escape plan. He moved through the shadows, blending in with the crowd, avoiding curious looks as he headed for the exit.

With his skill in disappearing amidst chaos, John left the nightclub unnoticed. The weight of a completed mission lingered, but he had no time to dwell on it. However, as he stepped out onto the street, a thought hit him: there was a nearby bookstore he couldn’t get out of his mind, the peaceful and welcoming atmosphere he’d felt upon entering. The memory of the young woman who had caught his attention brought a soft sigh to his lips.

He hesitated for a moment, the bookstore’s door in sight, but the memory of the mission pulled him back to reality. He decided that, for now, he should keep his distance. There were other concerns on his mind, like the consequences of what had just happened.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

On a rainy day, Mia was organizing some books on a high shelf, balancing on the tips of her toes. The late afternoon was approaching, and the sunlight filtered through the large bookstore windows, casting long golden shadows on the wooden floor. Her friend and coworker, Tom, had missed work due to illness and had sent a prior notice to the young woman. She sighed softly, distracted by the thoughts that haunted her. The bookstore, once her grandfather's refuge, now felt like a growing responsibility weighing on her shoulders. Keeping his legacy alive was important, but finances were tight, and she feared she wouldn’t be able to keep it open much longer.

Additionally, the worry about Tom tormented her. She always considered him more than just a coworker—he was a dear friend, and his absence left her uneasy. With the kindness that was characteristic of her, she thought of stopping by his house later to bring some warm tea and maybe some homemade food. A simple gesture, but one that could make all the difference on such a cold and rainy day.

When she came down the ladder, a familiar sensation took hold of her—that comforting stillness. The doorbell rang, the sound light but enough to catch her attention. She turned, and her eyes once again met the figure of the mysterious man. He was standing there, silent as always, but something in his gaze seemed different from the first time—an exhaustion, perhaps, or a heavier burden on his shoulders.

“Good afternoon! What a surprise to see you again,” she said with a soft smile. “Did something bring you back today?”

John didn’t answer immediately. He made an almost imperceptible movement with his head, as if agreeing, and began walking slowly through the aisles, running his fingers along the spines of the books. The contrast between his calm walk and the intensity he carried was almost palpable. Mia watched from her place at the counter, feeling a growing curiosity. Who was this man who appeared so unexpectedly, and why did that weary look always linger in his eyes?

Mia continued to observe him for a few moments as he wandered through the aisles, his hands lightly touching the books as if searching for something he couldn’t quite define. There was a tension in his movements, a constant vigilance, but at the same time, something about the bookstore seemed to soften him. Maybe it was the warm, welcoming atmosphere, or perhaps Mia’s presence, so different from anyone else he encountered in his routine.

She approached the counter, maintaining a respectful distance but not losing the lightness in her posture. “If you need help finding something... I’m here,” she said, her voice low, almost as if she was aware that he preferred silence.

John paused for a second, his dark eyes studying her over the books. There was no direct distrust, but a trace of caution was always present. Even so, he nodded slightly, accepting the offer without words, as if the simple act of Mia being there, offering genuine tranquility, was already something he didn’t find elsewhere.

She realized he wasn’t the type of person to open up easily, and that didn’t bother her. There was a natural calm between them, as if the silence between their few words said more than any hurried conversation could.

While he scanned the books, Mia watched from afar, organizing the pile she had finished arranging earlier. Her thoughts, which had been trapped in the difficulties she faced with the bookstore, now floated around the unexpected presence of that man. The mystery surrounding him intrigued her, but more than that, there was something about him that made her want to offer more than just a refuge.

John, sensing her gaze, finally broke the silence. “This place... seems different from the last times I was here,” he said, almost as if speaking more to himself than to her.

Mia raised an eyebrow, surprised by the comment. “Maybe it’s the time of day,” she replied softly, not wanting to force an answer from him. “Or maybe you’re just seeing the place differently today.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but there was a slight nod of agreement in his eyes. She was right, and he knew it. The world outside was cold, unforgiving. But here, between books and whispers of stories he had never read, there was a small moment of peace—a breath amid the chaos he usually called life.

Their interaction was brief, almost imperceptible, but carried a depth that both recognized, even without admitting it. Mia smiled, returning to her work, respecting the silence she knew was so important to him. John, for his part, continued to walk among the shelves, more relaxed, but still alert to everything around him, as if something inside him knew that the peace found here was temporary.

As Mia continued to organize the books, the rain outside intensified, filling the bookstore’s silence with a steady and almost hypnotic rhythm. The small, cozy space became an even more welcoming refuge on days like this. Several people were scattered around the store, some sitting on comfortable sofas along the sides, immersed in their reading, others at the small coffee table, talking in low voices. The bookstore pulsed with the softness of whispers and the sound of turning pages, creating an atmosphere that warmed Mia’s heart a little more.

She discreetly watched John from behind the counter, seeing him lose himself among the shelves, his fingers brushing the spines of the books as if searching for something familiar, yet unattainable. The contrast between his presence and that of the other people was palpable—while everyone else seemed relaxed, he radiated a silent tension.

A sudden thought crossed her mind. It was a cold and wet afternoon, and although she knew he was a reserved man, perhaps a simple gesture of kindness would be welcome. She hesitated for a brief moment, wondering if it would be intrusive, but the memory of how he seemed more at ease in the bookstore encouraged her.

Without saying anything, Mia went to the back of the store, where she kept a small kitchen for herself, something she had inherited from her grandfather. Quickly, she prepared a to-go cup of coffee. The warm, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and she smiled softly, appreciating the contrast between the sound of the rain and the welcoming smell of coffee.

When Mia returned to the front of the store, she saw John sitting on one of the sofas, the book resting on the table in front of him. He was engrossed in reading, his eyes fixed on the pages, but his rigid posture revealed a constant vigilance, as if every sound around him was something to be analyzed, a possible sign of danger, even in a seemingly safe environment like the bookstore.

Mia approached carefully, holding the to-go cup with both hands. The warm, familiar aroma filled the air, a comforting reminder in contrast to the cold rain outside. As she neared the table beside John, where he had momentarily rested the book, she placed the cup on the surface gently, trying not to disturb the silence.

“I... made some coffee for you,” she said softly, almost as if offering a gift. There was a quiet kindness in her voice, something that didn’t demand anything in return. The closed cup was a practical choice, allowing him to decide what to do—whether to take it or leave it behind.

John slowly raised his gaze, the surprise in his dark eyes quickly replaced by an expression of caution. He observed the cup for a few seconds, his mind analyzing every detail of the gesture. Part of him found it curious, almost unsettling, that someone would offer something so simple without a hidden motive. In his world, where kindness often came with ulterior motives, accepting something from a stranger felt like a risk.

But at the same time, there was something different here—a touch of authenticity in Mia’s way. She didn’t seem to demand anything in return, just left the coffee as a considerate gesture, and then moved away. There was no insistence, no attempt to get closer beyond that small act. That made him hesitate.

With a controlled movement, he murmured, “Thank you.” His voice was low, carrying a near-automatic suspicion, but at the same time, there was a small spark of acknowledgment. He knew this didn’t have to be a threat, but his nature prevented him from fully letting his guard down.

Mia nodded with a small smile and returned to the counter, respecting his space, without trying to continue the conversation. She did what felt right and now left it up to him to decide what to do with the coffee.

John remained seated, looking at the cup on the table in front of him. He didn’t pick it up immediately, nor did he reject it. Instead, he continued pondering the gesture. Why would someone do that? He was used to favors coming with a price, to kindnesses masking dubious intentions. It was almost instinctive to see the coffee as something potentially risky, something he should refuse.

And yet, the warmth emanating from the cup seemed to bring a sense of comfort. It wasn’t the coffee itself, but the simplicity of the gesture, the offer of something in a world that, for him, rarely offered rest. He knew that distrust was a survival tool, but part of him—a part he rarely listened to—wanted to believe that there was nothing more behind that coffee than pure kindness.

He left the cup there for now, untouched but not forgotten. He continued reading, trying to focus on the words before him, but his mind wandered back to the cup. That small act of humanity made him uncomfortable, but because it was something so different from his reality.

John didn’t drink the coffee right away, but he knew he would take it with him when he left. He didn’t know if he would take a sip later or leave it in some corner, but the simple fact that it was there, offered so genuinely, made him reconsider, if only for a brief moment, the isolation he imposed on himself.

While the environment around continued with the soft sounds of turning pages and the pattering of rain, Mia watched from the corner of her eye, returning to her routine tasks. She understood that he was a man surrounded by shadows, but even the darkest nights have their stars.

As the afternoon passed, John finally got up, leaving a few bills on the table to cover the coffee and the book. Without looking directly at her, he left the store quietly, just as he had arrived. But something about his departure felt less cold this time, as if, little by little, he was opening up to something beyond the constant vigilance.

Next chapter!

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 13 Elf

A supernatural creature of folk tales, typically represented as a small, elusive figure in human form with pointed ears, magical powers, and a capricious nature.

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija @mspurpl3

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

If someone had told him a couple months ago that he would fall in love with the MOST unusual girl that had ever graced his workshop..He'd have told you to never speak such nonsense to him again, probably would have scoffed, told them they were insane, and dismissed it from memory bank forever. Him, a proud master blacksmith of the arts, with a girl like her?? HA! What nonsense...

Or was it?

Not to him right now it wasn't as she kissed him and held his hands and he found himself not fighting against it. What was wrong with him!?

Oh right. ..It started with her walking into his shop.

The sounds of metal clashing against metal rang out loud and clear in the air. The inside of the shop was hot enough to even send a dragon out to drink cold water. Sweat dripped down his body and his lungs heaved from the excessive force of the hammer that he brought up only to bring it back down repeatedly. Hammering the burning orange iron into submission. To be molded and crafted into a perfect halberd for a dwarf client of his. He would've continued to mind his own business if it hadn't been for the beautiful woman who walked in with a smile on her face.

He stopped mid swing hammer in the air as she walked through the opening of his shop and looked at you. Your eyes wondered around the shop and all his tools set up everywhere before looking at him and smiling.

"Good evening. I'm looking for an elvan man by the name of Hatoro Haganezuka?"

"You're looking at him." He grunted lowering his hammer and eyeing you. Noticing the small cloth you carried in your hands. "What do you want?"

"I heard you fixed blades?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"I was hoping you could fix something for me." 

You should have been as beautiful as you were when you smiled and unraveled the cloth in your hands. Revealing a rather puny dagger that was not only rusted but broken in half. Obviously not cared for at all. He felt disgusted at the mistreatment of his and his disgusted face reflected that. Eyeing it before the beautiful maiden who held it up to him.

"What a disgrace. What do you intend for me to do about it?"

"It used to belong to my grandfather but he passed away. This is the only thing I have left of him. Could you please fix this for me?"

He still stared at her beautiful face before scoffing. "I craft actual important things. Weapons for warriors. Beautiful objects that are supposed to be used to defend, hunt, help survive life. Why should I waste my time on a simple dagger?!"

"Please. I'm willing to pay whatever price you want."

Dam her cute face. In the end he reluctantly accepted her request and she gratefully hugged him despite the sweat rolling down his body before leaving him with it.

He felt like he was going crazy wasting his time fixing the puny little thing.

It felt like a two part problem in his mind. On one hand it was as if he was betraying his loyalty to his duty and everything that it stood for by accepting such a measly thing to fix..for falling for such a girl. While on the other hand it was a betrayal of his own emotions for denying his affection for her in the first place. He grew weaker by the day, losing sleep over his inner turmoil. It wasn't long before people started to notice, dark circles appearing under his eyes and his usual scowl deepening as his mood worsened. No one dared to actually ask him what was the matter, but he could feel their concerned stares and worried glances. Even so, he held out, pushing thoughts of her away as he tried to go on with his life. Just ignore her, he told himself. He would feel better once he forgot about her. Just get this job done and you'll get over her!

 But no matter what she wouldn't leave his mind or him alone. Oh WHY did he have to be plagued his existence? Even AFTER you had returned after a month or two with various check ups to see the progress and then FINALLY getting it done with him shoving it into your awaiting hands.

You STILL plauged his mind.

How beautiful you smiled. How soft you were when you hugged him. How tight his chest was when you kissed his cheek in thanks. 

HE COULDN'T WORK IN THESE CONDITIONS!!

He once told her to leave him alone because she didn't need to be anywhere near him....It ended up with him breaking down in the middle of the day crying and all those sleepless nights catching up to him finally. His work performance was slipping, he was acting like a baby, and it was ALL her fault. She wouldn't listen and go away like some stalker. After that he had passed out from his yelling fit and woken up insidd due to exhaustion.....And to her crying and holding his hand. Ironic wasn't it.

And he made a noble effort to forget about that incident, but it was all for naught.

He reached his tipping point about a month into his rejection to the monster. He was exhausted, eyes sore and bloodshot, and his performance still wavering concerning all their neighbors. Lost in his thoughts while working. he heard a single word. His name. That made him stop in his tracks. His head snapping up in recognition, eyes widening. No! Not her! Not now! The last thing he wanted was the she demon to back him against the wall and talk her pretty little head off. He felt like he was suffocating. He barely slept for days. He couldn't take it- The voices were becoming so much his head was going to explode-

"Haganezuka? You don't look so good."

That was the last thing he heard before he passed out for a second time that month. She had carried him. CARRIED HIM!! HIM!! All the way back inside filled with worry. Don't ask him why she didn't  just leave him there. If the resident blacksmith was just found passed out against the ground it would've been less humiliating than a girl to carry him all the way to his bed where he remained when he woke up and numbly laid there as she went off chattering again. He didn't know what he was thinking when he suddenly exploded at her letting everything out. Maybe it was his frustration? The stress and strain he was feeling from her relentless presence? Maybe the days of little to no sleep? His mind zoned out as he mindlessly yelled at her but he certainly wasn't expecting it to end up with her kissing him and him being compliant to her affections. Leaning into her warmth and all around easing the stress he was always. Good grief what did he say? At one point she pulled away and he attempted to kiss her again which ended embarrassingly thanks to his lesser height which ended up with himself missing her lips and pecking her jawline which sent her beautiful face into giggles and the soft hands cupping his already crying and red face rubbed away at the stressful tears.

"You shouldn't beat yourself over like a little crush. I would've been happy to know either way. Oh. Please don't cry."

He wasn't sure why he felt so assured or comforted right now, but for now he leaned into those soft hands holding him up with the pretty angelic face of his relief

[aciddrattboyy]

the bug collector

after an accident with a curse, yuji finds himself in a random small-scale hospital nowhere near his home. growing tired and sad over his bleak and lonely surroundings he wished that the days would go by faster. that is until a certain nursing assistant made him wish for the exact opposite

yuji x f! reader ☆ fluff, eventual smut(maybe), eventual angst(maybe), ☆ wc: 2.4k cw: mentions of blood/injuries a/n: AAHHH my first ever yuji fic tehe he is so completely growing on me au where yuji grew up and became a sorcerer but none of sukunas fingers were involved not beta read but nothing i write ever is </3

pt: 01 || ...

☆

yuji didnt always hate the smell of hospitals. they used to remind him of better times visiting his grandfather, bringing in flowers for the friendly nurses, and spending the evenings with his only remaining family. 

but as yuji lay on his own hospital bed, trapped to this small room lit by bright fluorescent lights, he began to hate it. he groaned while staring up at the ceiling tiles, reliving the events of the weeks prior. taking up a high-risk assignment was a stupid decision. shooing his assistant away out of kindness was, now that he was in this position, a very stupid decision. 

from what he was told by nurses and doctors alike, a pedestrian found him unconscious outside of an abandoned morgue and called the authorities. now he’s here, holed up in some random non-sorcerer regulated hospital, having to feign amnesia and pretend he had no idea how he ended up there. he rolled onto his side, staring out of the window as frustration washed over him. he felt weak and alone and wanted nothing more than to be out of here. 

a soft knock brought him out of his self-deprecating thoughts, turning over and sitting up as per routine of the last few weeks 

“come in,” his voice was hoarse but you could hear it from behind the door. having just started your nursing position job only a month ago, you were a bit nervous. having heard of the mysterious boy found bloodied and unconscious with no memory of what happened, you were nervous you would some how fuck it up. but with a tray in one hand, you steeled your nerves and opened the door. 

peaking your head in, you offered a smile to the tired looking pink-haired man covered in bandages. 

“hi, yuji is it?” you knew who he was, everyone on this floor and then some knew who he was. being the only person to come into this small hospital with such injuries in years, the nurses and doctors definitely talked. he nodded as you walked further into the room, feeling his eyes on you as you pulled out the table and set the tray down. “im y/n,” you held your hand out, waiting awkwardly for a few seconds before yuji shook it. he looked a wreck and you could see where the sense of mystery came from. you couldnt help being intrigued by him, wanting to know more about his story. “i brought you lunch, if you dont like it i could bring you a menu to choose from,” you spoke lightly, trying to portray yourself as friendly and welcoming as you could. 

it seemed to work, a smile tugging on the corners of yujis lips as he reached over to grab the cup of orange juice. 

“thank you,” he spoke softly, seeming unable to take his eyes off of you. you seemed different from the other healthcare professionals that passed through; more kind and personable. most importantly maybe, closer to his age. having been surrounded with a lot more experienced, older doctors, it felt nice to see someone around his age group. 

you nodded in response, your smile growing as you grew more comfortable. you grabbed your clipboard, trying not to seem too obvious as you assessed his behavior for anything youd need to report. you could see various scars scattered over his torso and arms down to where the thin blankets covered his lower half. glancing up from your clipboard in a way you hoped was subtle, you watched as he ate. he didnt seem to be picky, taking bites of everything on the tray. but once he caught your eyes you couldnt help but try to change the topic.

“your doctor said you were healing well,” you tried to keep an air of professionalism in your tone, but the way he was maintaining eye contact was making you a bit flustered. “so you should be able to go out to the common room if you wish- just let a nurse know,” yuji nodded along to your words, finding comfort in your voice over all the monotone hes been forced to endure. “im sure you already know this but we do have books and such available if you want anything to help the time go by. i know it must be hard being cooped up in here,”

yujis smile grew, you seemed so nice. you brought about a sort of gentle air that made him feel at ease her. you were the first one to come in here and not try to get him to ‘remember’ what landed him here. you genuinely seemed to care only about his well being, and it was, to put it in simply, refreshing. 

“i’ll be off then, if you need anything you can let me, or any of the other nurses know with the call button,” you motioned to the red button on the arm of his bed, growing shy over how he didnt bother to look, keeping his eyes on you. “enjoy your lunch,” with a final smile and short nod, you pivot on your heels, making your way to the door. 

“wait,” yuji spoke suddenly, causing you to turn around swiftly, a hint of alarm coursing through you before seeing he was still okay and didnt somehow collapse in on himself the minute your back was turned. you looked at each other with equally large eyes. yuji seemed to have spoken before he could think. but the truth was he did feel alone, having had no visitors and seeing no friendly faces. despite having spent less than an hour with you, he wanted to be able to feel this comfortable as long as he could. “could you… stay,” you nodded your head, attempting to give him a smile even though you were sure your confusion was painted on your face. 

“yes of course, is everything alright?” you scanned his face for anything alarming as you pulled up a chair to the side of his bed, sitting down next to the table. 

“yeah i guess i just… wanted to talk,” yuji didnt know where he was going with this. he didnt really know where he was going with this. he dreaded the words as soon as they lift his lips, becoming worried that the conversation would steer to you interrogating him about that night. you nodded slowly, trying to assess how he was feeling just from his expressions

“we can definitely talk,” you said encouragingly. you’ve read his files, you knew the other staff would use this opportunity to try to talk about the night he was brought in. but you felt that maybe he really just wanted some company, as far as you were away he hadnt had any visitors or even left his room. you felt sorry for him in a way, and wanted to keep the conversation light for his sake. “how about you lead the conversation,” you suggested, passing the ball to him in hopes that he’d understand you wouldnt be trying to get answers out of him. he was practically beaming at your offer and you knew in that moment that you you were right about him. your own grin grew, the air of comfort around yuji growing contagious. 

“well have you seen any of the human earthworm movies,” he felt like a total loser asking such a dumb question, but seeing your eyes twitch with a mix of interest and confusion before letting out a small chuckle made him feel a bit better about it. you shake your hair, the mood a stark change from your otherwise stressful workday.

“no i havent, but i take it you have,” you cocked your eyebrow jokingly, enjoying how easy it felt to talk to yuji. he nodded his head enthusiastically, before taking a bite out of his sandwich. 

“ive seen all of them- multipe times,” he spoke between bites, taking a swig of his juice before resting his hands on the table. noticing the hospital band around his wrist brought you back to reality. remembering how he had seemed to be all alone these past weeks and was finally getting the chance to talk to someone. you made a mental note to check up on him regularly during your shifts. no one should have to heal on their own. 

yuji had gone into explaining the series, using his hands to act out certain scenes. he seemed to really be enjoying the conversation, not showing any signs of pain despite all of the bandages adorning his arms and torso. 

unfortunately, yuji’s display was cut short with a short knock on the door. you shot up, worried that maybe you had been away for too long. but as another nurse came in, he was followed by two other men; one with snow white hair and a shit eating grin, the other with darker hair and a very stoic expression. 

“yuji you have visitors,” the nurse dead panned, seeming not too interested in the matter. with a quick comment about visiting hours to the two men he was out of the door. 

you saw yuji’s face light up, body twitching to get up and greet them. feeling a bit awkward about standing in the middle of their visiting time, you carefully pushed the chair back up against the wall and saw yourself out. 

“im glad youre getting better yuji,” you gave him a polite smile, feeling somewhat vulnerable as the white haired man stared at you intently from behind his sunglasses. you grabbed your clipboard, nodding to the men standing idly. “someone should be in here to bring you dinner,” yuji watched as you stiffly nodded your head towards megumi and gojo, waiting for you to close the door behind you before anyone said anything.

“so who was she,”

“what took you guys so long,” yuji quickly asked, ignoring gojos question entirely. he watched as gojo smiled, grabbing a chair, and pulling it up where you were previously sitting. 

“well since you had so kindly sent the assistant who accompanied you on your assignment on their merry way, it took a while for anyone to raise any alarms. and then we had to locate what hospital you were in,” 

yuji listened intently, glancing over at megumi who was leaning against the wall. he thought of the assistant, hoping they didnt get into too much trouble for just listening to him. 

“we tried to visit a little over a week ago but they said you werent able to take any visitors,” megumi spoke in a monotone voice, scanning yujis current state. yuji was shocked to hear they tried to visit, this being the first time there was any mention of anyone trying to visit. too distracted by his thoughts, yuji didnt even notice gojo swiping his sandwich until he spoke up around a mouth full of food.

“we could have you transferred to a more uh sorcerer friendly hospital if ya want,” gojo waved the sandwich around as he talked, dropping it back on the plate. “this food sucks,” he commented, exaggerating sounds of disgusting. 

“no its okay-,” it seemed like yuji was the most shocked at his own words. not entirely sure why that had come out of his mouth when he had dreaded every second being here. but then he remembered you. he knew he could just be emotional, you having been the one shred of silver lining in this dismal place. but he wanted to stay. he wanted to talk to you again. plus, he was sure he would be getting out soon anyway, whats wrong with spending the next few days there. 

gojo glanced at megumi before looking back at yuji, his smile growing all the more obnoxious. 

“is it because of that pretty nurse?” 

yuji threw a balled up napkin at gojo, trying to distract the two of them from the blush he was certain was now warming up his cheeks. shaking his head, he fiddled with his hospital bracelet, feeling a bit uncomfortable. 

“no its not,” he tried to sound as confident and truthful as possible, but the snort coming from megumi told him he failed. “i’ve just been here the whole time, seems stupid to leave now when i’ll probably be out in a couple days,” he trailed off, words turning into a muttered mess. he knew he sounded stupid, before he even knew you existed he spent his days counting ceiling tiles and wondering when the hell he would be able to get out. “i’ll just wait it out,” he added, the silence and intensity of stares thrown his way making him feel like he was in some sort of spotlight. “so uh what happened to that curse?” he quickly asked, desperately wanting to change topics. 

“i exorcized it,” megumi said, eyes squinting just a tad as he looked yuji up and down. “are you sure you dont just want to stay because of that nurse?” gojo’s laughs filled the room while yuji buried his head in his hands.

“oh my god,” his voice was muffled by his palms as he tried to get them to stop asking embarrassing question with the sheer power of his mind. sadly for yuji, it did not work. gojo continued to tease him around mouthfuls of the very food he said was disgusting. “i didnt want you guys to come here just to eat my food and embarrass me,” yuji groaned into his hands, praying this whole thing would end

“alright alright,” gojo raised his arms in surrender, standing up and pushing the chair back. “we’ll leave so you can get some rest and definitely not so you can go back to talking to your hospital crush,” without waiting for yuji to answer, gojo was walking out, waving his hand and obnoxiously stomping. megumi stayed behind for a few moments, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. 

“get better soon,” yuji smiled back at him, megumis nice words making him think the utter torture was over. “so you can take her out on a proper date,” megumi quickly shut the door behind him, not waiting for yujis protests. 

once he was alone, yuji’s mind wandered to you again. and as he made himself as comfortable as he could on a hospital bed, he hoped he would be able to see you again soon. he felt childish once he really thought about it. but he liked talking to you and whether or not it was his foolish confidence, he thought that maybe if you met under different circumstances, the two of you could at least be friends.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3

[noctxj]

the reaper | part i

as far back as human memory can recall, the origin of flower marks remains unknown. if perhaps they came during or after the birth of humanity, or are benevolent gifts from the gods to aid ones navigation in life— milestones to remember and learn from, a north point on a compass lest you stray from your path. regardless, they have always been. and while flower marks remain an important aspect of ones journey, there is none other more significant than the soul flower mark. wherein the moment someone is born, this mark blooms above ones heart, as it is considered a pure reflection of who that person is and will be.

part i / part ii

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

so it was no wonder that during a gloomy winter evening, stricken screams of hysteria and the shrill wailings of a newborn baby echoed off the walls of the cold estate in a coalescing manner. the head midwife having no choice but to hurriedly pass the tiny squirming bundle to a reluctant nurse and focus on trying to placate the madam’s delirium— 

"that is no child of mine! keep that accursed child away from me! nurse--!" 

flower marks are a language all on its own, one that humans do not need to learn. rather, it is an inbuilt knowledge and understanding. and in the case for this newborn child, their soul flower mark had already predetermined their fate as forsaken.

as amidst the turbulent mess of bloodied towels and blankets, death had just been born. 

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

initially mesmerising in its opulent visage, its only when the mind catches up and registers its meaning that its beauty is quickly replaced with fear and alarm. 

a blooming grandiflora rose of black petals mixed with subtle hues of reds and haunting purples rests above the girls heart, with bramble-like stems arching up across her frail collarbones to ensure it is there to stay.

a black rose, promising the bearer as the omen of death.

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

even at such a young age, the cruelty of fate had already determined that little flora would not be given mercy or reprieve from the reality that is her cursed existence. a forsaken trail of purple anemones had lightly entangled itself amongst the thorny stems of her soul flower, almost as if to placate its loneliness. 

a swath of lilies of the valley sprawl from her left shoulder over and down her shoulder blade, the burning trail of pain and suffering almost numb to her senses. 

and then upon the delicate skin of her left wrist lay a singular bloom— a moonflower, reflecting little flora’s most earnest thoughts, dreaming of love from her own mother.

all these marks permanently etching themselves into little flora’s skin before her third birthday.

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

despite living under the same roof as her mother, rarely did little flora see her; instead following in her late grandfathers footsteps as a ruthless businesswoman, silver spoon in her mouth and all. instead she herself was always surrounded by staff always heeding to her mother’s orders, to "always have that child within your sights", with an ever rotating door of tutors and nannies.

“madam, miss flora is an intellectually gifted child, it is quite remarkable! she has just—", 

"… so?" her mother had sharply interrupted, “a high level of intelligence is a common trait within this family. i expect you to provide the girl with more difficult material to not only accomplish but also excel in; anything less than perfect and dare i say failure to meet my— this family's standards, will not be tolerated. or are you stating that you are not competent enough to fulfil your tutor roles' duties and responsibilities?"

"i— no— my apologies madam, of course there is no problem. if you would allow me, i have colleagues who would be thrilled to assist in miss flora’s academic—"

"do as you please. now, i have an important meeting with a gentlemen flying in from st. petersburg. a mr. z it appears… the estate staff will assist with your queries about the girl. so do refrain from contacting me any further-"

so as determined as a young child her age could be, she promised she'd keep being good to strive for her mothers praise, be an obedient and perfect daughter that her mother would realise is worthy to be loved— despite her soul flower.

“a curse that should never be shown to anyone lest she receive punishment,” her mother would often remind her.

a punishment that envelopes the expanse of her back as raised scars. milestones just as permanent as her flower marks. more lilies of the valley creeping down her back. 

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

little flora never knew who her father was, had asked her mother once and received a harsh slap across her cheek, her small body whipping to the carpeted floor from the force. 

the silent burning of nightshade on her right pointer finger ironically mocking the hush motion.

she never cared to ask again. 

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

little flora remembers the day she believed her mother had finally saw value in loving her. barely eight years old and still holding onto that naive hope— and she foolishly believed she finally did.

waking up early in the morning as per her routine, only to see her mother sitting in the chair beside her bed, happiness written across her usually severe expression, looking at little flora herself. blinking once— twice— then rubbing her hands across her eyes to make sure what she is seeing is real and not a dream.

“good morning flora,” what is going on— “you and i have an agenda for today, so please come downstairs for breakfast once you’re ready.”

is today the day? did she finally do it? is her mother finally learning to love her—

“as it is a special occasion, i’ve taken the liberty of selecting your attire. now, off you go to wash up.”

little flora had been ecstatic, her heart thrumming like a hummingbird out of excitement to prove that her mother would not regret placing value on her. 

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

little flora’s only ever seen her mother’s soul flower once, only by chance of course. her evening robe slightly loose across her shoulders, her motions lax from the glass of wine she was nursing— a far cry from her usually sharp and elegant appearance. 

a beautifully victorious gladiolus cradled upon her chest. she envied it, a blessing to be born with. unlike herself. however, it wasn’t until later that she understood why her mother despised her existence so much.

as victory and death are eternal enemies— always on opposing sides. 

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

“it is the perfect place for you to grow in flora, a place for you to finally thrive in,” her mother’s words had echoed in flora’s ears.

she doesn’t know how long ago that was.

she didn’t even feel alive.

flora’s small body strapped down to a cold metal table, no longer wearing the attire her mother had especially picked out for her. instead wearing a customised medical gown, allowing an unobstructed view of her accursed soul flower mark to the blurry shapes her dull gaze had tried to focus on.

the harsh clinical smell of the room burning her nose, and the glaring overhead lights further disorienting her senses. flora couldn’t move her head if she tried, a strap also tightly bound across her forehead attached to the metal table. 

what is this place? why would mother send me here? this is wrong, they must of got it wrong, i shouldn’t be here, i—

flora could feel the burning of a new mark directly below her soul flower. almost the same in size she guesses, if only she could move her head.

the agonising pain of a broken heart flourishing as a vibrant yellow rose.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.✦ . ˳

tric’s notes

this highkey spawned from my hanahaki disease fic. flower meanings/symbolism was a bit difficult to grasp (ie. countries, cultures, time periods), so don't take this too seriously lol. 

i was hoping to make this a oneshot but it just kept going ugh. this is unedited. part ii may be more backstory, part iii the boys will appear (no promises though, just a rough idea).

i recommend listening to “my flower” by ladies code. it’s a korean song but i think it matches the mood of this piece - so i encourage listening to it.

thanks for stopping by!! ♡︎

crossposted on ao3 (same username)

[cinderella-ish]

Let's Talk About Kyoru!

I shared a little while ago (in my first-ever analysis post!) that I don't really have a lot in common with Tohru or Kyo, and I didn't really "get" them or their relationship right away. Today, someone asked on Reddit "What are your personal thoughts on Kyou x Tohru?" and I wrote out a long comment explaining how I grew to love them. So, here's an expanded and edited version of that comment, edited for Tumblr!

I loved both Tohru and Kyo as characters from the start. How could I not? Kyo is an endlessly meme-able, over-the-top tsundere cat-boy with a heart of gold, and Tohru is a lovable, overly-giving people-pleaser who's also a total space cadet prone to some very funny mishaps (that are maybe a little less funny once you understand her character).

What I didn't see at first was how their romantic relationship was an essential part of both Tohru's and Kyo's character development. Their arcs couldn't really have ended any other way, with how Takaya-sensei set them up.

See, Tohru begins the series in denial about the reality of her mother's death and unable to ask for or accept help, even from those closest to her, and even when people offer their help or support up front. She risks her own health and even her life to avoid burdening others, likewise risking herself to protect her memory of her mother (represented by the framed photo).

And Kyo begins the series convinced defeating Yuki will erase his past "sins," or alleviate his guilt from both Kyoko's and his mother's deaths. It's a Sisyphean task and he knows it, but he keeps at it because it's better than the alternative (actually dealing with his trauma) and possibly because he thinks he deserves to suffer defeat after defeat. He's in an extremely fragile place, having just returned from his trip to the mountains, and he truly believes he only hurts the people he loves.

I also think there's some small part of Kyo that's fighting to keep going, even from the start of the series. It's a twisted way to go about living, but he is still trying to live. He has the possibility of a life outside the Cat's House, and he's working his ass off to try and achieve it, even if it's most likely impossible. To me, that's not a character who's given up or accepted his fate.

Similarly, I think there's a small part of Tohru that knows she'll eventually need to accept that her mother is dead and make the decisions that are best for herself. It's harder to see this inner desire in Tohru than in Kyo, but I think it becomes clear when she chooses to stay with the Sohmas rather than return to her grandfather's house. She believed, at that point, that her grandfather was the only person left who knew and loved her mother, yet she knew she would be happier continuing to live with Kyo, Yuki, and Shigure. With the encouragement of her grandfather (and with Kyo and Yuki's heroic rescue mission), she moves forward on the path that will make her happiest.

It took me really digging deep and understanding each of their individual arcs to love them as a couple as much as I do now.

On first pass, it was obvious to me how much Tohru meant to Kyo, and the ways she directly countered his extremely low self-esteem and overwhelming guilt. However, I didn't really understand what Tohru liked about Kyo in a romantic sense.

I think this was probably due to my own anxiousness around men who yell, which strongly put me off of Kyo as a romantic lead. I also didn't like how he promised to protect Tohru again at the end, but that was again due to my own hangups. I have a strong dislike of being "protected" by my romantic partners (it feels patronizing and usually is done without asking or considering my own feelings about being protected). But I'll come back to that.

We know from the start that Tohru tends to reject attempts to care for her, or simply makes sure no one will be in a position to offer that care to her. She doesn't ask to stay with either of her best friends and she doesn't remain with her family during the renovations.

And Kyo is the only person who not only recognizes when Tohru's diminishing her own needs, but he's also the only person who consistently makes sure she has the support she needs, even if she initially refuses it. He tells her it's okay to get angry, asks her to vent her frustrations to him, and reminds her it's okay to be selfish.

I think with anyone else, she would have burned herself out and cut off most of her uncomfortable emotions. Kyo takes care of Tohru, and that's what she needs, because Tohru Honda has very different needs than I do (and that's okay!).

Also, Kyo doesn't yell nearly as much after the first season, but something I realized while writing my series on Kyo and Momiji's relationship is that most of Kyo's yelling is him trying to protect her and the others he cares for (like Momiji). He yelled because he was terrified of hurting her again, or of letting her get hurt through inaction. He'd yell at her when she did something that could've gotten her hurt, or he'd yell at others when they did something that could hurt her. That poor boy was carrying so much guilt over Kyoko's death, he made it his entire personality to try and protect Tohru, including from himself.

At Kyoko's grave, when he promised to protect Tohru for life, I initially read that as a step backwards for him. Wasn't that just a recipe for more guilt? After all, he couldn't possibly protect her from everything. But after some reflection, I think that was him finally internalizing the lesson from that last fight with Yuki: he was protecting her all along by making her smile and being there for her. That's Kyo recognizing that his presence is good for Tohru, and it's a huge shift in how he sees himself and his own self-worth.

So that's really why Kyo and Tohru are so perfect together. Kyo needed someone to help him see his own worth, and Tohru did that simply by needing him. Meanwhile, Tohru needed to prioritize her own needs and happiness, and she did that by admitting how much she needed Kyo. It's a loop that feeds back into itself. The more they care for each other, the more they overcome their initial mistaken beliefs about themselves.

I once shared in response to an ask that I believe Tohru needed Kyo even more than he needed her. Thinking of how badly she was suffering during the hospital arc, when she thought he'd rejected her, and how much she repressed her heartbreak during that time, I think it would've destroyed her if he hadn't decided to try and move forward with her. It would've taken a long, long time before she would've been able to open up to anyone like that again, and she may not have been able to ever again, given how hard it was for her to admit her feelings for Kyo in the first place.

So, I love them. Took me a while, but I'm fully aboard the Kyoru train now.

[mysafehaneul]

VII. AQUAMARINE (M)

CHAPTER 7: DIFFERENT PATHS SAME DESTINATION

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 11k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

ANGST, SMUT, FLUFF.

Most of our lives are spent in the search of a meaning, a purpose and often we end up looking for it in the wrong places and forget the fact that it was not about the destination, rather the journey and the people we meet along the way. Because we don’t have small lives, we just start living it a bit late. 

The corridor on the mansion's second floor was a gallery of ornate antique decorations and vases, each with its own story to tell. As Y/N walked through this elegant hallway, Noel was out fishing with the Jeon men and Joon-hee's daughter, enjoying a day of outdoor activities.

The corridor featured high pane windows framed by heavy curtains, ornate walls, and a large portrait of the Jeon family. The portrait depicted Wonwoo's grandparents sitting on a comfortable couch, with their children standing proudly behind them. It was a beautiful representation of a bygone era, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the timeless family bond it portrayed. Wonwoo's father stood behind his father, and his aunt stood in the middle, with one hand on her father's shoulder and the other on her mother's. On the other side, Wonwoo's uncle was grinning, with his eyes meeting his father's. The family resemblance was striking, particularly in the similarities between Jungkook and his father.

Y/N's gaze settled on the hands of Wonwoo's grandmother, and she noticed that the elderly lady wore the same ring that now adorned her own finger. It was a connection between generations.

"That's my mother-in-law" Y/N heard a voice behind her making her jump slightly, she turned around to see her mother-in-law standing just a few steps away, her gaze focused on the family portrait.

Sunmi continued with a smile, "Out of her collection, she cherished that ring the most." Her eyes shifted to Y/N's hands, which held the same ring.

Y/N commented, "I see, it is a pretty ring."

Sunmi looked back at the portrait and reflected, "I think more than the beauty, it's the history of the ring that held more significance."

With a turn to face Y/N, she added, "When Wonwoo's grandfather was just 11, his father sent him to her house." Sunmi nodded toward the image of Wonwoo's grandmother. "They were the family of one of the most remarkable goldsmiths of that time. Your grandparents might have known them."

Y/N replied, "They passed away when I was young."

Sunmi expressed her condolences before continuing with the story. "He used to work under her father as an errand boy then as an accountant to support his family. His own father was a loan shark who valued money more than feeding his wife and children." Sunmi's voice carried a mix of sadness and understanding. "Her father held him in high regard, perhaps because he recognized his potential. When my mother-in-law was 16, she fell in love with a local thug and ran away from home when her father found out. But, unfortunately—or fortunately, as life would have it—that thug never showed up at their decided meeting spot."

Sunmi went on, "Omonie's father was highly respected in his community. To save face and preserve their family's reputation, he decided to marry his only daughter to Wonwoo's grandfather and sent them here."

As the story unfolded, Y/N learned about the rich history of the ring she now wore. Sunmi revealed, "Abeonim hated making jewelry, but he was sadly skilled at it. This ring is the first and last piece he designed and made, created solely for his wife. He gave it to her as a symbol of his love, after confessing his feelings to her, of course." Sunmi chuckled softly, her eyes reflecting fond memories.

With a deep breath, Sunmi summed up the heartwarming tale, "She wore it until her deathbed, and much to the dismay of few people, she passed it down to Wonwoo. Funny how sometimes the things we consider as misfortune turn out to be blessings in disguise."

The conversation continued as they made their way toward the grand staircase, and the gentle sunlight filtered through the mansion's windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished floor.

Sunmi began, "It wasn't until their 30th wedding anniversary that Abeonim told me why that guy couldn't make it; he was busy getting a beating from him."

Y/N chuckled, "You were quite close to them, weren't you?"

Sunmi confessed, "Not initially, but Wooshik was very close to his parents. After my first miscarriage, our family doctor suggested I be around people, and we moved in with them. Some days were more disagreeable then previous one’s but she thought me that ties made out of love can be stronger than of blood if we are ready to bend our knees and let Love take precedence over pride."

They had strolled out of the mansion without realizing it and were now heading towards the greenhouse. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of various-colored iris flowers. These irises painted a mesmerizing display with deep purples and pale blues, their colors dancing under the gentle sunlight. Birds chirped cheerfully, and a pleasant breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees.

Sunmi, her eyes filled with memories, noted, "These are her favorite flowers." She reached out to touch a petal, gently caressing it. "She and Abeonim planted them together."

Sunmi extended her hand to touch a petal of the iris, gently caressing it. As she spoke, her eyes held a mist, like she was transported back in time. "I used to ask her how she knew that she loved him," she began, her voice filled with nostalgia. "She said, Wooshik's father is not a man of many words, but when you look at him closely, you can see his love and consideration woven into every action. Empty promises may sound sweet to the ears, but it's the actions that truly win the heart."

Y/N listened intently, her gaze lowered to the ground. Unbeknownst to her, her thoughts began to drift to the moments she had shared with Wonwoo – him holding her hand in court, refusing to leave her side at dinner until she had finished at least half her meal, sitting next to her on that cramped airplane after their wedding, defending her against Nikolai and even his own parents. These past two months had been a whirlwind, and it felt as though a lifetime of experiences had been crammed into this short time. Y/N found herself questioning when the last time she had genuinely laughed was. When had she last felt like she had someone to lean on when life got heavy?

Her eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation. As she looked up, still lost in thought, she noticed Wonwoo and Noel approaching, accompanied by Jungkook, who held Somi's hand. They were engaged in a lively conversation and carried fishing equipment. Noel sat on Wonwoo's shoulders, a beaming smile on all their faces.

"Y/N," her voice broke through your musings, "misunderstanding is that poison that can spoil even the strongest roots, especially when you pick up words that are hushed in the corners."

You realized that she knew about the disagreement that had taken place between you and Wonwoo the previous day.

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Sunmi gazed at you intently for a few moments and then confessed, "I was quick to misunderstand you, your intentions, and even the origins of Noel. I assumed, to the extent of thinking you were barren, and I even questioned the reasons you married my son. You know, I've had some bitter experiences," she emphasized. "But my son made me realize that sometimes, in order to understand someone, you have to step into their shoes, not just view them through your own lens."

She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "My heart goes out to Noel's birth parents and the struggles they must have endured to protect their child from their own family. I am grateful because of you, I am seeing glimpses of the Wonu we lost at 16 after the death of his friend Mingyu. Please forgive me, my darling. I hope we can put the mistakes of the past behind us and make new memories as a family, creating a special place for Noel in both our families and our hearts."

You reciprocated her squeeze, offering a warm smile and nod. However, your mind was racing with questions about what had happened to Wonwoo at 16 and who this mysterious Mingyu was. Underneath the guilt, you couldn't help but wonder how much it would hurt when you and Wonwoo eventually divorced in five years, as per your agreement. The guilt from the conversation with your father-in-law wasn't enough not forgetting the fact the history and rekindling of friendship between him and your mother.

You engaged in a brief conversation, Sunmi updating you on the progress she and your mother made with the upcoming Gala at the end of next month. When, her phone buzzed, signaling that it was time for her medicine and to leave the greenhouse, and you both headed out.

As you emerged from the greenhouse with Sunmi, Wonwoo spotted you and his mother walking together. His brows knitted in confusion at the sight. Sunmi waved goodbye and went in the direction of the pool house, leaving you to continue your journey.

You soon noticed Joon-hee, accompanied by Eleanor, walking together. Joon-hee's daughter, excitedly spotting her, let go of Jungkook's hand and rushed towards her mother, screaming, "Mama!" With a joyful smile, she picked her up in her arms, showering her with kisses.

Meanwhile, Noel, who had been sitting on Wonwoo's shoulders, observed the commotion and excitement. He saw you approaching and couldn't contain his enthusiasm. With a loud, enthusiastic shout, he exclaimed, "Tante!" and waved his little arms energetically. All eyes turned toward you as Noel's excitement drew their attention.

Wonwoo put down his wiggling form, and the little boy immediately darted towards you. You opened your arms, and as he reached you, he threw his little arms around your neck and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"Did you have fun?" you asked softly, your fingers gently caressing his back. The warmth of his embrace filled you with joy.

Noel pulled away from your embrace, his face beaming with enthusiasm. "Grandpa taught me how to hook a worm, and I even helped him reel in," he excitedly recounted in French.

You smiled at his youthful excitement. "That sounds like a lot of fun. What else did you do?" you inquired as you both approached the entrance where the rest of the group was standing.

Noel continued his story, animatedly sharing, "Then, Jk and Dad's hooks got tangled in the water, and they both thought they caught a fish. They started pulling, but when they saw their hooks caught each other, they started fighting. All of us just laughed, and then Grandpa scolded them for fighting and put them in two different corners."

Your attention shifted to Wonwoo as he heard "Dad?" Noel looked at you with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard. But before either of them could respond, Somi chimed in, saying, "Yes, Uncle Jk was pouting the whole time," and she laughed.

Impressed by her fluency in French, you asked, "Wow, Somi, you speak such nice French. Who taught you?"

Somi beamed with pride, responding, "Thank you. Aunt Wonwoo and Mama taught me."

Joon-hee corrected her, saying, "You mean Uncle. Her pronouns are a bit weak."

You offered reassurance, saying, "It's alright, Somi. You'll get the hang of it." The atmosphere was filled with warmth.

"Noona studied in Switzerland, right?" Jungkook asked, then corrected himself, saying, "Sorry, I mean Heyongnim."

You smiled warmly at Jungkook's question. "It's alright, Jungkook, you can call me Noona. Yes, I was mostly based in Switzerland for the last 12 years."

Wonwoo exchanged a curious glance between you and Jungkook, who playfully stuck his tongue out at him.

Joon-hee added, "Well, the four of us," emphasizing herself, Wonwoo, Jungkook, and Eleanor, "we all studied in London."

You nodded in agreement. "Yes, Wonwoo told me about that." He didn't, you read it in his file that Rachel made. 

However, the unexpected voice of Eleanor chimed in, a question that surprised you given her prior lack of interest in your conversations. "Don't you miss your friends and family back home?"

Bending down to Noel's eye level, you glanced at Eleanor with a raised eyebrow but quickly composed yourself, aware of Wonwoo's watchful gaze. "Yes, sometimes I miss my friends from the old school."

You swinged the hand you held and asked, "What about JJ and Vicky?"

He smiled and responded, "Yes, I miss them too, but I talk to them every day."

Eleanor continued with feigned innocence, "And what about your parents?" Her words cut through the air like a sudden chill, and you instinctively tightened your grip on Noel's small hand. Wonwoo, too, glared at her at the same moment, clearly sharing your displeasure. What was her problem? You were about to speak when Noel calmly said, "I do, but Tante says they are always with me," placing his hand on his heart. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded back, reassurance in your eyes.

The atmosphere grew tense, and you could see the muscles in Wonwoo's jaw twitching. Jungkook, always quick on the uptake, chimed in, "Funny how children have more sensibility compared to some adults," his eyebrow arched and a sarcastic smirk on his lips as he glanced at Eleanor. Then he reached his free hand over and ruffled Noel's hair.

"Baby boy, why don't you go inside and ask Mrs. Tham to pack your bag? We'll be leaving after lunch, right?" You looked at Wonwoo, who nodded in agreement. The tension was palpable, and it seemed like a wise decision to change the topic and move forward.

But just as he was about to do so, Somi grabbed his hand and said, "Mama, can't Noel and I have a sleepover?"

Joon-hee sighed and replied, "No, baby, we have to leave as well. You both have school on Monday."

Somi's reaction was swift, like thunder preceding a lightning strike. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she dropped to the ground, wailing loudly. "No! I want to have a sleepover with Noel! I don't want to go home! I want to have a sleepover now! Now! Now!"

"Damn, Joon-hee, your daughter definitely takes after you," Jungkook remarked.

Joon-hee rolled her eyes and snapped, "Shut up, JK."

"Kwon Somi, get up from the ground this instant!" she sternly commanded.

But Somi was having none of it. "NO! NO!!! NO!!! I WILL HOLD MY BREATH UNTIL YOU AGREE!" she declared, puffing out her cheeks defiantly.

You were taken aback by the scene. How come my child never throws a tantrum like that? You gave Joon-hee a thin-lipped, sympathetic smile. She put her hands on her hips and said, "This girl, wait till I tell your father."

"And what's he going to do? Roll on the ground with her?" Jungkook quipped.

Joon-hee glared at Jungkook, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

You crouched down to Somi's level and said, "Hey, Somi, can I tell you something?" The girl, hiccuping now, stopped her wailing and listened. "How about you first get up from the ground? It's dirty and filled with insects and germs, okay?"

Somi remained on the ground. You continued, "Come on, I know you're a good girl. If you'd like, you can come to our place and have as many sleepovers as you like. I'm sure Noel would like that, right, baby?"

Noel remained silent, which left you a bit puzzled. So he wants to have a sleepover too but isn't saying it…

Jungkook clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "How about this: let the kids have a sleepover, and we can have a little drinks around the fire, like the old times."

"No, I can't. I haven't seen my husband in the last two days, and I want to go home," Joon-hee insisted.

Somi started wailing even louder. "Oh, come on, call him here. Just ask him to drop by in his chopper," Jungkook suggested. "Hyung, come on. We rarely get together."

"Noona," he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and a pout.

You turned to Noel and asked, "Do you want to have a sleepover with Somi?" He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"What do you say, Wonwoo?" you asked, looking at him.

"I'm fine with it if you are," Wonwoo replied. These were the first words you had exchanged since last night.

"Okay, it's settled then. Thank you, Noona, you're the best. Let's head inside," Jungkook exclaimed.

"Joon-hee, call Hoshi hyung. I haven't seen him in a while!" Jungkook added.

Joon-hee retorted, "If you miss him so much, then call him yourself, you ass."

You rose up and gestured inside with your head, saying, "Shall we?" and started walking inside. Jungkook left with the bags, and Eleanor, whom you had forgotten was still standing there, followed Joon-hee.

As you were almost inside, Wonwoo gently grabbed your arm and softly said, "Can we talk?" You looked at him and then back at Noel, who was heading inside. Nodding in agreement, you told Noel, "You go in first, sweetheart."

Noel disappeared into the mansion, leaving you alone with Wonwoo. He gestured toward a picturesque gazebo nestled in the garden, surrounded by various vibrant peonies of different colors. The gazebo was adorned with comfortable couches and a small table, creating an inviting atmosphere for conversations and relaxation.

You followed Wonwoo to the gazebo, the fragrance of the blooming peonies filling the air as you both settled down on the couch.

The sun beamed down in the noon, and birds chirped melodiously in the background as you and Wonwoo settled into the comfortable gazebo. He opened and closed his mouth as if struggling to find the right words to say. However, before he could speak, your phone rang. Rachel's name flashed on the screen, and you answered the call.

"Yes, Rach? What's up?" you inquired.

"I was wondering what time you'll be here," she responded.

"Well, we're having an impromptu gathering, and the kids wanted to have a sleepover. So, in all probability, tomorrow morning," you explained, examining your nails casually. "Why do you ask?"

"I see. Then I'm sending you some files; please check them," Rachel informed you.

"Sure, I'll take a look. See you tomorrow. Bye," you replied, ending the call. Placing your phone on the table, you waited for Wonwoo to begin.

He cleared his throat and mentioned, "So, Rachel?"

"Why, curious?"

Wonwoo's gaze, filled with intensity, made you uncomfortable. "You may find it difficult to believe, but these days I find myself curious about you. Your past, your feelings, your day-to-day life. Will you ease my curiosity, Y/N?" he asked.

your palms grow slightly sweaty under his scrutinizing stare. You replied, "I don't know what to say, Wonwoo."

He gently reached for your hand but then hesitated, holding himself back. "I am sorry, Y/N, for my words last night. I know I hurt your feelings."

As you sat there, your eyes were drawn to the serene lake behind him. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you uttered,

"I don't think you can hurt a woman who has already been hurt by her own heart. I've loved a man who belonged to someone I cherished the most in the world. You just called me something that most were afraid to say out loud."

"Y/N, I—" Wonwoo began.

"Wonwoo, don't you think it's very hypocritical of me to criticize you when we're both using each other equally? To fill our voids, to soothe a guilt, punishing ourselves for something we had no control over?" you said, avoiding a direct answer.

"Don't you get tired?" Wonwoo asked, his eyes searching yours.

Your gaze met his, and you replied, "I do, but then I remember I have someone's childhood in my hand."

The wind ruffled your hair, and the sun's reflection in your eyes made you look radiant in Wonwoo's eyes. He reached out and tucked the rebel strand behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. A warmth crept into your cheeks, and you became acutely aware of the heat between you two.

"That day at my parents' house, I told them about Noella's family and even the reason why his family is a threat to him," He admitted.

"I know. Your mother told me about it, and I'm regretful of my accusations regarding their intentions. They're good people," You acknowledged.

"Y/N, you know what my father said to me today? He said, 'You can't be good at everything, but that doesn't mean you can't do anything. Just because we can't solve each other's every problem, that doesn't mean we can't understand them. I know we both have our reasons for doing the things we do, and maybe one day we'll trust each other enough to talk about it.'"

A small smile played on your lips and thought We're in too deep to go back now, aren't we Wonwoo?

"And since we're both on the same team, why don't we treat each other as one?" Wonwoo suggested.

"I like the sound of that," you replied, feeling a sense of relief.

"So, friends?" he offered, extending his hand for you to shake.

"Friends," you agreed, shaking his hand.

"Again, I'm sorry about last night. I don't know why I reacted the way I did," Wonwoo apologized.

"Hmm, I'm sorry too," you admitted.

"So, we're cool then?" he inquired.

"Wait," you scrunched your brows, "don't you want to apologize for one more thing?"

"About what?" Wonwoo looked perplexed for a moment, then glanced at your lips. "Oh, you mean the kiss."

You nodded, displaying your obvious annoyance. "Yes."

"Yeah, no, I'm not sorry about it," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You kissed me back."

"Seriously," you muttered.

"Why should I apologize for something I don't regret?" Wonwoo teased.

"You're unbelievable," you grumbled and began to march back to the mansion, leaving the laughing man and your phone behind.

As you reached the second floor and settled into your room, you realized your phone was absent. Puzzled, you retraced your steps, intending to retrieve it. However, while heading back downstairs, you happened to glimpse Wonwoo and Eleanor through the window on the second story. They were engaged in a hushed conversation, their faces close, and Wonwoo was gripping Eleanor's forearm.

Your lips tightened into a thin line, and you decided not to intervene. You continued to your room, thinking that it was time to check your emails and get back to your work. Before you entered your room, you stopped a passing maid and asked her to retrieve your phone from the gazebo where you had left it earlier.

Wonwoo was smiling to himself when he noticed your phone on the table. He picked it up, the corners of his lips curling upwards at some amusing thought.

Just as he turned to head back into the mansion, a voice cut through the air, "What's got you smiling like that, Wonnie?"

The voice that once felt like a first sip of water after walking in the desert now felt like swallowing sand. He ignored her and continued walking.

Eleanor, however, wasn't one to be ignored. She stepped in his way, a sly smile playing on her lips. "What do you want, Eleanor?"

He drew in a breath and stared down at her with a stern expression. "What we can't even talk now? We weren't on that bad of terms five months ago. Or is it that you're trying to get into good graces by playing a virtuous husband to your young wife and doting father to a little charity case? I must say, I'm loving this look on you."

His patience was running thin, and he harshly grabbed her elbow, pulling her close as he spoke through clenched teeth. "That night was one of the most regrettable nights of my life, you chose this for yourself so now live with it. You're the last person who should be talking about virtue here. Keep my wife's and son's names out of your damn mouth, because if I start, you won't have anything left to crawl back to."

Eleanor's eyes widened at the intensity in his voice. She stammered, "You have no idea who you're messing with. I am a congressman's wife."

Wonwoo let out a bitter laugh and looked down at her with pity. "The way you act, you don't seem like one. Stay out of my family's business unless you don't mind losing whatever faux pride is left in you."

With that, he shoved her out of the way and stormed inside the mansion. Eleanor gritted her teeth, vowing to herself, "You will regret this, Jeon Wonwoo."

...

...

The airport bustled with travelers from around the world. The Heathrow Airport was a massive, modern structure, filled with glass windows that allowed the daylight to stream in, and a high ceiling that made the space feel grand. Travelers scurried about, dragging their luggage, while the constant sound of announcements echoed through the terminal.

In this bustling environment, Jeonghan and Victor emerged from their arrival gate, eager and excited. They were welcomed by Victor's sister, who stood there with a placard that read, "Grooms to be." Her enthusiasm was contagious, and she exchanged warm hugs with the newly arrived duo.

"Welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice. "We have so much to do today. First, let's head to your new home, and then we have a dinner appointment with your wedding planner."

As they left the airport, Victor's sister skillfully maneuvered her way through the London traffic, and along the way, Jeonghan and Victor caught up. They discussed what Jeonghan had been up to, particularly his new thesis project.

Then, curious about their plans, Victor's sister inquired, "When is your friend, Y/N, coming?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but beam at the thought. "I plan to go there and surprise her myself, and my mother is coming too. We know it's in the middle of all the planning, but I can't wait to see their shocked faces." He interlaced his fingers with Victor's, their hands held firmly together and planted a kiss at the back of Victor's hand.

...

In a lavish hotel room on Hoxton Street, Nikolai paced restlessly, an expensive crystal glass filled with aged, amber whiskey in his hand. The glass was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, etched with intricate patterns, and the whiskey inside was a fine, aged liquor that spoke of luxury and taste.

He was in a heated phone conversation, his voice laced with frustration. "What do you mean they're threatening to cancel the contract?" His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the glass. The voice on the other end explained in German , "They're saying that if you aren't able to secure capital within three weeks, they will cancel the contract."

Nikolai could feel his blood pressure rising as he processed the information. "Did you tell this to Dad?"

The person on the line replied indifferently, "Boss says that this is your project, your problem."

Nikolai's patience wore thin. He hurled the phone against the wall in a fit of rage. His loyal lackey stood nearby, watching his boss slowly lose his composure.

"Find out where Noella's little bastard is and end him right on the spot, and make it look like an accident," Nikolai demanded, taking a menacing step forward.

The lackey hesitated, "I don't think killing the child will be beneficial."

"Say what?" Nikolai demanded an explanation.

The lackey continued, "Our insider said that, according to Ms. Noella's will, if something were to happen to her, the kid will go with Y/N. But there's no mention of what to do if something were to happen to Y/N."

Nikolai contemplated this for a moment. "But the court has a restraining order against me."

The lackey smirked and added, "But not against boss."

Nikolai's lips curled into a sadistic smile. The lackey pushed further, "That way, we can have access to all of his inheritance."

"But what about Dad? He will not agree," Nikolai pointed out.

The lackey, always ready with a solution, pondered for a few seconds and replied, "Everything takes a little convincing. I'm sure he misses Ms. Noella, especially after the death of Mrs. Bulavia. Having her child near him may soothe his pain. And this way, you will also gain his favor. As far as the restraining order is concerned, what is there in this world that money can't buy?"

Nikolai gulped down the remaining drink in his glass and grabbed the lackey's face, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You are a genius."

"Thank you, sir," the lackey said with a sinister smile.

Nikolai turned to the window, his eyes scanning the busy streets below, and he thought, 'So long, Y/N.'

...

...

Slowly, as per schedule, all the family guests left. After lunch, everyone except for Wonwoo's and Jungkook's parents, Aunt Haeri, and Lee Chan had departed. Aunt Haeri had an early morning surgery, and Lee Chan left with Mrs. Tham. Joon-hee assured you that Somi's caretaker would be there to watch over the kids, so there was nothing to worry about. However, your mother-in-law insisted that Cecilia, the head caretaker of the mansion, be there just in case to take care of Noel.

You were working in your room, engrossed in your tasks to check the proposal's file, and lost track of time. You didn't even realize when the sun settled down and the stars emerged in the sky. There was a knock at your door, and you called, "Enter." Noel appeared in the room, dressed in his nightwear. You smiled and said, "Hey, baby boy, all ready for your first sleepover?"

He looked a bit confused and replied, "But we used to have sleepovers all the time."

You gently placed the laptop on the bed and pulled Noel into your lap, saying, "Well, yes, but this is your first sleepover with a friend."

Noel nodded excitedly. "You're liking it in here, aren't you?"

He nodded and replied, "Yes, everyone has been good to me, especially Grandma and Grandpa. They even said that I can visit them whenever I like. And Somi said that I look cool when I speak French, so I help her as well."

You brushed his innocent, cerulean eyes, pushing his fringes aside, and asked, "Oh, did she now?"

You advised him with a smile, "Have fun, and no scary stories or horror movies, okay? And not too many sugary drinks before bed."

Noel protested, "Tante, I'm not a kid anymore."

You kissed his chubby cheeks and said, "Yes, yes, you're a big boy now." He fidgeted with his fingers.

Then he mentioned, "In the afternoon, when I called Uncle Wonwoo 'Dad,' you didn't mind, right? Grandpa told me that he is my dad now, not my uncle, so I should call him that."

You reassured him, "It's not about me, but about you. Don't let anyone pressure you into something you don't like. You can continue calling him 'Uncle' if you're comfortable with that."

Noel contemplated and then responded, "I don't mind calling him 'Dad'."

You smiled and told him, "If that's what you want." Then you asked, "How come you never call me 'Mom'?"

Noel explained, "Because you're Tante." You kissed his forehead and said, "And you'll forever be my baby boy. You know, Noel, if you ever want something, you can always tell me about it."

"Even throw a tantrum?" Noel asked.

You chuckled and said, "Well, not to the extent of rolling on the floor, but yes, you can." He continued to tell you about JJ, who called and is also excited about his first sleepover.

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo, whom you hadn't seen since lunch, was standing, or rather leaning, against the door frame, looking at the both of you. Noel spotted him first and hopped down from your lap, giving you a hug and saying, "Good night, Tante."

You smiled and replied, "Good night, baby boy." Noel then went to Wonwoo and wished him, "Good night, Dad." Wonwoo ruffled Noel's hair, saying, "Good night, bud. Have fun."

As Cecilia came to pick him up, Wonwoo closed the door behind him and plopped down on the bed next to your feet. You picked up the laptop again, reading the file, and he remarked, "Well, at least someone will have fun."

Your eyes were glued to the laptop as you teasingly asked, "Why is that, 'Dad'?"

Wonwoo opened one of his eyes to peer up at you from his lying position and replied with a grin, "Jealous much?"

You retorted, "Oh, please, you should be proud of me. Most women take at least nine months to make their husband a dad, and I made you one within two months."

You both shared a laugh. He added, "What can I say, words fail me. I have such a talented wife."

With a sigh, he confessed, "God, Y/N, I don't want to go."

You empathized, "Then don't."

He challenged your reluctance, saying, "You have no idea, JK will kick down this door and drag us there. He can be a little—"

"Persistent?" you offered.

"Well, he's a lawyer. What else do you expect?" adding further.

"But I wish it were just that. Jungkook's friend will also be there."

You questioned, "Congressman Lee?"

Wonwoo confirmed, "Uh huh."

"That means Eleanor will also be there," you pointed out.

He responded with a nonchalant tone, "Hmm."

You recalled their interaction earlier by the gazebo and couldn't help mentioning it, your voice growing more serious. "You weren't dreading her presence when talking to her in front of the gazebo after I left."

Wonwoo rose up from his position and stood in front of you, trying to explain, "Y/n, I swear she stopped my way. It's not what you think."

You questioned, "And what do I think?"

He was at a loss for words and struggled to explain further, "Listen, Y/n, she stopped my way—"

You cut him off with a composed response, "It's alright, Wonwoo, you don't owe me an explanation. It's none of my business."

He seemed taken aback by your response, so you continued, "So, whatever I do is none of your business."

You responded calmly, "Well, until the time it doesn't directly affect mine or Noel's life, it's not."

Wonwoo tried to test your reaction further, asking, "So, you wouldn't mind if I flirt with other women?"

You nonchalantly shrugged, your inner thoughts conflicted. The angel on your right shoulder whispered, "You're digging yourself a grave, Y/n." Meanwhile, the angel on your left shoulder cheered, "Tell him. If he doesn't mind you flirting with other men."

With a mischievous smile, you responded, "Sure, if you don't mind me flirting with other men." you can hear a small sound of someone face palming themselves from your right shoulder.

His reaction was swift. Wonwoo bent down to your eye level and lightly grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, his gaze intense as he said, "I'd like to see you try." The unexpected sensuality in his voice made your core tighten in reflex, and you couldn't help but clench at the sensation. He smirked at your dumbfounded expression, then turned to the wardrobe and took out a pair of black wide-leg formal trousers and a cotton shirt.

Wonwoo emerged after changing into his attire, his shirt fashionably unbuttoned at the top, offering a teasing glimpse of his well-defined chest. His silver Rolex Yacht-Master II watch graced his wrist, and his sleeves were casually rolled up, giving him an effortlessly stylish look. There was no denying the fact that Wonwoo was an attractive man, and the addition of his glasses only accentuated his intellectual charm.

As you watched him, you often found yourself pondering why male poets wrote pages describing the beauty of women when there seemed to be insufficient words to truly appreciate a man's splendor. Maybe it was because men wanted the world to know about the magnificence of the objects of their admiration, while women preferred to keep such treasures safely nestled within their hearts.

Caught in your contemplation, you met Wonwoo's playful smirk with a knowing smile "Like what you see?"

You refrained from entertaining his teasing and looked back at your laptop.

"Are you coming?" Wonwoo asked.

You replied, "I'll be there after replying to a few emails and checking the sheets."

He offered, "You can skip if you're not feeling up to it."

You told him, "I'll think about it," and returned to your work. About twenty minutes passed, but you couldn't shake the thought of your attractive husband outside.

'Isn't he looking a bit too good then normal?' a small voice spoke from your left shoulder. what will she do in front of her husband? The memory of her throwing herself in front of Wonwoo's car on your wedding day sent goosebumps racing across your skin. I mean, you're certain that everyone is aware of their history but 'you can't let yourself be disrespected like that if something does happens there,while you're in the same premises as them'.

Fine, you decided, "I'll attend," and in no time, you had changed into a black viscose mini dress and some comfortable Isola flat mules. Letting your hair down and applying light makeup, Within half an hour you headed to the pool house where everyone had gathered.

Jungkook skillfully mixed drinks at the bar, engaged in conversation with Congressman Lee. Eleanor animatedly recounted the story of how they once stayed past curfew to attend a Beyoncé concert.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo sat on a cozy two-seater, his legs crossed, and a glass of wine resting on his perched knee. He seemed rather disinterested in the ongoing conversation and was scrolling in his phone. Joon-hee nestled in her husband's lap, you try to put a name to the face, Ah Kwon Hoshi the two of them sharing affectionate smiles as they listened to Eleanor's tale.

Kwon Hoshi, the heir of Tiger Baby Media. It was widely known in their social circles that both he and his father were passionate about tigers, even actively supporting causes to protect these magnificent creatures.

'when did he arrive?' then you recall the loud noise of a chopper landing on the helipad outside around 5 pm. A maid, upon being questioned, informed you that Han Joon-hee's husband had arrived.

"Oh, Noona, you made it," Jungkook greeted you as you entered, the first to notice your arrival. All eyes turned in your direction, but it was Wonwoo's gaze that lingered on you. He couldn't help but gulp as you both appeared to be perfectly coordinated.

"What would you like, whiskey or wine?" Jungkook inquired.

"Whiskey, please," you replied.

"Right away." Jungkook set about preparing your drink. You settled down next to Wonwoo, who slipped his phone into his pocket and casually placed his hand behind the headrest, your right shoulder lightly brushing against his chest.

You exchanged pleasantries with Kwon Hoshi, acknowledging Congressman Lee who just raised his glass at your direction and his wife, who was giving you disapproving looks.

Amid the conversation with Joon-hee, Wonwoo leaned in and whispered in your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. "You look ravishing," he praised, sniffing behind your ear. "and smell fucking delicious."

You turned your head and whispered back, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Complimenting my wife," he responded.

If two can play at this game, you thought to yourself and whispered in his ear, "You don't look half bad yourself."

He seemed to be getting a bit buzzed. Jungkook handed you your drink, and you thanked him. Jungkook took a seat in a single chair opposite Hoshi and Joon-hee, while Eleanor and her husband sat across from you and Wonwoo.

Lee Joon-suk sipped from his glass, his eyes unfocused as he reclined in his seat, and then he started addressing you, "Ms. Y/N, you've grown into a fine young lady. I remember you when you were sixteen, accompanying your mother to the exhibitions hosted by my aunt." He turned to look at Wonwoo and remarked, "You're one lucky guy."

Wonwoo cleared his throat, replying, "Sure am."

Lee Joon-suk continued, "I heard that you both are working on a resort together." You nodded and said, "Yes, construction is underway."

He drained his glass and set it on the table. "Well, do let me know if you need any help. It's always a pleasure to be of use to a beautiful young lady."

You felt the annoyance radiating from Wonwoo, his grip tightening around his glass. To ease the tension, you placed your hand on his knee and replied, "My husband and I will keep that in mind."

You didn't miss the subtle smile Joon-hee gave behind her glass, raising her eyebrows in intrigue.

As the moon ascended higher in the night sky, food and drinks continued to flow. You had a helping of food and kept taking small sips from your glass. You couldn't afford to get drunk in front of people you had just met. Wonwoo, too, switched to whiskey. He apparently had a higher tolerance than you initially thought.

The mood was light, and jokes were exchanged. Hoshi and Jungkook began playfully teasing Wonwoo.

Jungkook grinned mischievously and quipped, "Hey, Hoshi Hyung , you remember, he used to be such workaholic he even brought his laptop as a plus one to your wedding"

Hoshi chimed in, "Yeah, man Y/N must have done some real magic, For you to agree to get married."

Wonwoo, unfazed, responded with a smirk, "Well, what can I say I had no interst in seeing him cosplay a tiger in white suit and kiss my sister every five minutes"

You couldn't help but smile at the back and forth, your nerves relaxed to the point you didn't even mind,The hand that was initially behind you slowly settled on your nape, fingers pressing lightly on your left collarbone. Your hand, which had been drawing circles on his knee, reached up to his thigh. Laughter filled the air as everyone shared antidotes from their past, and they chuckled, except for Eleanor, who remained silent, her discomfort palpable. Isn't it funny how fate works at one point where someone who used to be the most important after a time seem irrelevant.

Upon Jungkook's insistence he poured you an another glass, you weren't drunk but you were feeling a little buzzed, your back comfortably against Wonwoo's chest, his warm breath on the top of your head.

Amid the jovial atmosphere, Jungkook suddenly whined, "Guys, I'm the only one without a partner here!"

You tilted your head curiously, "Jungkook, why don't you have a partner?"

Joon-hee, ever the sharp-tongued one, chimed in, "Well, he's the jack of all trades, master of none. He's been switching partners so often that at the end, he's all alone."

Jungkook pouted and complained, "Noona, for the past few days, I've wanted someone, but she's not giving me a chance!"

Wonwoo, intrigued, asked, "Do we know her, kookie?"

Jungkook smirked and replied, "Well, not you, but Noona knows her very well, actually." Making you knit your brows in confusion. He then stumbled over to the bar, grabbed an empty wine bottle, and suggested, "Let's play truth or dare!"

Several rounds of the game later, the bottle landed on Wonwoo, and he chose "dare." Jungkook, with a mischievous glint in his eye, gave him a wicked ultimatum: eat a spoonful of hot sauce or switch to "truth" and share his most embarrassing sexual encounter.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo opted for the hot sauce. However, as soon as the spoon rested on his taste buds the pain made him realise that people can see stars with their eyes close as well. His face turned red, sweat poured down his forehead, and his eyes watered uncontrollably.

You saw Eleanor concerned face as she rose to grab the water bottle for the side but Quickly, you grabbed an ice cube from your glass, put it in your mouth, and took Wonwoo's face in your hands. You kissed him deeply, letting the ice cube melt in his mouth as your lips met his. After breaking the kiss, you looked into his eyes and asked with a smile, "Feeling better now?"

Wonwoo, still recovering from the fiery hot sauce, nodded. whatever little intoxication he felt, all sobered down you noticed his eyes slightly dilated.

Amidst the collective "ooooooo" of amazement and laughter that echoed around the room, Jungkook exclaimed, "Damn, Noona, you're so cool!" playfully teasing.

But what soured eleanor's mood further was that her husband had indulged a bit too much in the drinks. Eleanor excused herself from the group, helping her tipsy spouse as she made her way towards the door. Jungkook kindly offered to prepare a guest room for her, but she politely declined, explaining that she had a meeting with the party board members early the next morning. Her driver was ready to assist, guiding her inebriated husband to the waiting car. Her husband slurred his goodbyes to everyone.

Amid this scene, you overheard Joon-hee's sweet words as she kissed her husband's cheek, saying, "I'm so glad my baby is not a sloppy drunk." Hoshi, who had also had his share of drinks and was now sporting rosy cheeks, gave a warm, somewhat goofy smile that was reminiscent of Somi's charming expressions. It was a heartwarming moment.

It was now Jungkook's turn, you dared him to do ten shots off Hoshi's body. He whined, saying, "Noona, are you trying to kill me here?" You retorted, "You should have thought of that before you shoved hot sauce down my husband's throat," which caused Wonwoo to burst into laughter.

"So you both a team now huh?

Hoshi lay down on the now empty table, and Joon-hee lined up the shots on her husband's body. Jungkook managed to down six shots before he fell onto a two-seater couch. Out as the daylight, Wonwoo rang for the butler to assist Jungkook to his room.

You turned to find Hoshi and Joon-hee, lost in their own world, were busy making out, while you and Wonwoo sat in tense silence,

Things were getting a bit too steamy with Hoshi and Joon-hee, so you leaned over to Wonwoo and whispered, "I think it's time for us to call it a night."

Wonwoo nodded in agreement, and you both quietly excused yourselves from the room.

You were acutely conscious of his presence behind you. The flavors of whiskey and hot sauce still clung to your taste buds, and Wonwoo wasn't faring any better. His heart raced in his chest as you led the way. You held the door open for him, and he stepped inside. You followed, your against the door, trying to regain your composure, and your breaths came in measured counts.

In the stillness of the night, your hands worked swiftly to find and secure the lock, while you and Wonwoo engaged in an unspoken duel of wills. It was a contest of who could maintain the intense gaze without faltering. Your fingers danced behind the door, seeking the lock mechanism, and when it finally yielded with a soft click, the sound reverberated in the room.

The room was wrapped in a cocoon of silence, interrupted only by the gentle hum of crickets serenading the night outside. Wonwoo, with his hand extended, palm up, broke the silent challenge, offering you to take his hand. He whispered softly, "Come here."

You pushed away from the door and took a step towards him, your hand slipping into his. His warm, calloused fingers caressed your knuckles before he raised your hand to his lips, recreating the tender gesture from the first time he visited your house for dinner. His deep kiss spoke volumes without uttering a word.

Wordlessly, he turned your hand still in his and guided you towards the curtained window. With a graceful sweep, he drew the curtains aside, “you know why I always chose this room". You couldn't trust your voice at that moment, so you silently mouthed, 'why.'

He moved behind you, his strong arms encircling your waist. His warm breath tickled your neck as he answered, "Because of this."

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the breathtaking view. The path leading to the garden was bathed in subtle, soft lights. Around the irises, many fireflies danced, casting a mesmerizing glow. It was as if the stars had descended from the heavens and were scattered across the ground, creating a scene that was nothing short of magical.

"It's beautiful," you breathed in admiration as you took in the enchanting view.

"It is," the timber of his voice resonated through you, adding to the enchantment of the moment. You turned to find him already gazing down at you, a silent understanding passing between you. Your eyes danced between his eyes and his lips, and as if drawn by an invisible force, you both leaned in, closing the distance that separated you.

He captured your lips with his, and the world outside disappeared into the embrace of your shared kiss. It was a moment that needed no words, a moment of perfect togetherness under the canopy of stars and fireflies.

Your senses were ablaze as the taste of whiskey on his tongue mingled with the faint remnant of hot sauce on yours. His hands moved with a gentleness that contradicted the burning intensity of the kiss, sliding up your arms.

Time slipped away as you explored each other's lips with a fierce longing, the tension that had lingered between you all evening now ignited into a passionate flame. The heat in the room seemed to increase, and the air became charged with electricity.

Wonwoo's kisses trailed down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He whispered in your ear, "I think we've had enough games for tonight."

Your hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the contours of his sculpted chest. "I couldn't agree more."

PG-15 VERSION ENDS HERE

A/N: (After '------' this line you can read the Extra)

You felt Wonwoo's fingers deftly working at the zipper of your dress, allowing the fabric to cascade to the floor. Your bare skin tingled under his touch. His lips found yours once more, and you could taste the raw desire in his kiss.

Wonwoo gently lifted you, carrying you to the bed guided you to your knees and took a step back to appreciate your enticing appearance. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you looked up at him, your eyes dilated and filled with longing. He put his hand on your shoulder, his voice deep and sensual as he whispered, "Tell me you want this."

Your fingers deftly worked down the buttons of his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest beneath. With deliberate sensuality, you scraped your nails lightly down his defined abs, and he bit his lips in response to the electrifying sensation.

"I want you, Wonwoo," you murmured, your voice filled with desire. You rose, your lips trailing hot and wet kisses along his neck, down to his collarbones, and further, slowly descending toward his belly button. He threw his head back and groaned, overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensations you were invoking.

Looking up at him, you took in the effect you were having on him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, the heat of your mouth on his body driving him wild. You circled your hands around his waist, fingers working on his belt buckle, each touch stoking the fiery passion between you.

You unlatched his belt buckle and removed it from the hoop, letting it drop to the floor with a distinct cling sound. You were about to undo the button of his pants when his strong hands engulfed yours, halting your movements. Confusion flickered in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He gently cupped your chin, tilting your head up to his lips and whispered, "There's a lot of time for that, baby girl." His fingers brushed your hair away from your face, and he began to plant soft, teasing kisses along the path he traced: from your forehead, your left eye, the side of your nose, your cheeks, and the corners of your lips.

As your mouths met and opened, your tongues engaged in a sensuous dance, exploring each other's desires. His hands reached behind you to unhook the clasp, freeing you from the confining embrace of your garment.

His warm palms firmly cupped your chest, causing a deep groan to rise in your throat. He bit your lower lip, making you moan in response. Breaking the kiss, he used his left thumb and slipped it into your mouth, commanding, "Suck."

You obediently complied, wrapping your lips around his thumb and swirling your tongue sensually around it. All the while, you peered up at him, watching his reaction. He gazed down at his thumb in your mouth, his jaw clenching as if trying to control himself.

With a wet pop, he withdrew his thumb and trailed it down from your mouth to your collarbone, leaving a cold and tingling sensation in its wake. Finally, he reached your breast, circling and tweaking your nipple with a teasing touch. His right hand slid down your body, slipping beneath your panties, his fingers delving into your heated flesh with a firm and demanding grip.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but cry out, "Fuck, Wonwoo." Your head arched back as the intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. With deliberate intent, he tugged at your nipple and slowly pushed you onto your back, his desire evident in his every move.

He gripped the waistband of your panties and slowly removed them, leaving you completely bare and at his mercy. Wonwoo climbed onto the bed on his knees, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks flushed. He gazed at you with a fiery desire in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, his fingers trailing from your knees to your thighs. “Your spark lights a flame with me” He removed his glasses and threw them on the bedside table. Bending down, he began to kiss your neck, his lips exploring the sensitive skin below your ear. You moaned softly, your fingers digging into the back of his head, grazing the blades of his well-defined shoulders.

Descending further, he captured one of your nipples with his warm mouth, sending a shock of pleasure coursing through your body. After lavishing attention on one breast, he switched to the other, his tongue and lips setting your nerve endings ablaze. Your core throbbed, and you found yourself grinding your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find.

Noticing your struggle, Wonwoo quipped, "Is my baby girl in pain?" You shot him a glare, wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face. However, you had other plans. You hooked your legs behind him, and with a swift motion, you flipped positions, straddling him. Your bare sex rubbed against the rough material of his trousers, which concealed his evident arousal, and both of you hissed in response.

As he looked up at you, naked and sitting atop his clothed arousal, you began to move your hips provocatively, eliciting a throaty growl from him. "Fuck, Y/n, slow down," he implored, if you don't, I'll end up coming in my pants, He thought to himself.

You dismissed his words, your voice heavy with desire. "Less talking, more fucking." You moved your hips rhythmically, and he raised to his elbows, gripping your hips tightly to halt your movements. "Raise your hips," he instructed, "I promise I won't tease. I need to prepare you, love."

Without further delay, he began to give your bundle of nerves the attention they craved. His thumb circled your sensitive bud while he slowly inserted his forefinger inside you. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt your arousal building from your spine to your womb, flooding you with pleasure.

Your vision blurred, and the sensations washed over you, causing your body to tense and quiver. You bit into Wonwoo's neck, desperate to muffle your moans as your climax approached. His name became a chant on your lips, and your hips began to ride his hand, your movements taking on a mind of their own. You were lost in ecstasy, your world reduced to the pleasure that consumed you.

When he added a third finger, you gasped, and your hips twitched involuntarily. "Wonwoo," you gasped, and he whispered, "Let go, baby. I've got you."

With a mind of their own, your hips raised from his thighs, and you began to ride his hand, the overwhelming sensations driving you closer to your climax. You were too lost in your ecstasy to notice Wonwoo opened his trousers a little and brought out his member giving it a few pumps making him moan at the sight of you. But just as you were about to cross that exhilarating threshold, he withdrew his hand, leaving you gasping in shock. "WHAT THE FUck–" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, he seized your hips and thrust his throbbing member deep inside you.

Your world exploded as he penetrated you, and you screamed as he entered your most intimate depths, causing your inner muscles to clench around him. Two powerful thrusts were all it took for your first orgasm to crash over you, an electrifying wave of pleasure that sent you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body convulsed around him, and he groaned, overcome by the intense grip of your tightness.

Your chests pressed together, your foreheads touching, and he pushed up into you at a languid pace, allowing you to ride the waves of your orgasm. He paused when he noticed your furrowed brow, knowing you needed a moment to come back from the euphoric high.

With one arm, he held you up as you lay upon him, your hair cascading like a curtain over his face. He kissed your neck and nipped at your earlobe as he allowed you to regain your composure. As your heartbeat gradually returned to normal and you opened your eyes, a silly smile graced your lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing it’s just that in the afternoon you said let’s be friends”

“Ah”

In the blink of an eye, he shifted your positions once again. You lay on your back, and he knelt between your parted legs, your hips hovering in the air. “Then let me show you how good my friendship can be”,His hands gripped your supple buttocks, surely leaving marks in their wake. As he entered you again, you felt his gaze locked onto you with an insatiable hunger in his eyes.

With a husky whisper, he purred, with a wink, "My turn."

TBC.

.

.

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EXTRA:

When Jeonghan was in his first year of college, he read the concluding lines of the main character in Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night": "Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe; what is decreed must be, and be this so." He couldn't disagree with something more at the time, but little did he know how much he would have to eat his words.

Jeonghan had come to drop off a pin drive you'd left at home in your office. He was about to step into the elevator when Victor rushed in before him. In German, Jeonghan asked, "Hold the elevator, please," but Victor, who was also late for a meeting, just gestured to his watch and said, "Sorry, short on time." The doors closed with Victor inside, leaving Jeonghan grumbling and taking the next elevator.

When Jeonghan reached your office, he saw the same man showing you something in his file and making you sign some documents. Jeonghan glared at him, and the man looked a little awkward. You introduced Jeonghan to him.

"Ah, JJ, come in. Mr. Sine and I are almost done here," you said.

"Mr. Sine, this is my good friend, Yoon Jeonghan, an Assistant Professor at KIU," you continued.

"JJ, this is my new representative, Mr—"

"Mr. Short on Time," Jeonghan interrupted with a sly smile.

The air between the three of you seemed charged with unspoken tension. You, ever perceptive, sensed it and said, "Okay, why don't you take a seat, Mr. Sine? Shall we continue?"

Mr. Sine cleared his throat and agreed, shifting his attention back to you as he began to explain the contract clauses, pointing to where you should sign. Meanwhile, Jeonghan settled into a nearby couch, picking up a magazine and pretending to be engrossed in it.

Jeonghan couldn't help but notice Victor attempting to act cool about it, and, true to his petty nature at times, he decided that if two could play this game, he'd certainly be up for the challenge. For the next six minutes, while Victor stood next to you, his peripheral attention was continuously drawn to Jeonghan, feeling the weight of his stare.

...

Two days after the encounter at your office, Jeonghan found himself in a pub with his friends, passionately discussing the decline of the social sciences. They delved into the structure of society, which seemed to be transforming into a conformist matrix that stifled critical thinking and suppressed diverse voices.

Victor happened to enter the same pub with his coworker, and he immediately spotted Jeonghan. The conversation around the table focused on whether criticizing problems would lead to solutions.

Victor quipped, "What can be done? Your criticism doesn't always result in a solution."

Jeonghan, who was ardently immersed in the debate, responded, "Sometimes the journey toward finding an answer is more liberating than the answer itself."

Victor, his eyes locked with Jeonghan's, engaged in a silent battle of wits and wills, momentarily oblivious to their surroundings. Jeonghan's coworker interrupted their silent exchange by clearing his throat, prompting Jeonghan to break his gaze.

When Jeonghan's coworker noticed another person entering the pub, he excitedly exclaimed, "Oh, he's here!"

Both Jeonghan and Victor turned their attention to see an average-looking but seemingly confident guy, often referred to as a "chad" among their friends, entering the establishment.

"This is the guy I was telling you about," the coworker said to Jeonghan. "Come on, I'll introduce you to him."

Jeonghan hesitated and replied with unease, "Robert, I told you I don't want to meet new people just yet."

Undeterred, his coworker insisted, "Oh, come on, Yoon. A simple 'hello' won't hurt. It's not like I told you to marry him."

He attempted to pull Jeonghan from his chair to introduce him to the newcomer. However, just as Jeonghan was about to be dragged away, someone firmly grasped his other wrist. It was Victor, his gravelly voice and authoritative gaze stopping the coworker in his tracks.“He said no, didn’t he?”

Jeonghan's heart quickened, and he felt a tingle in his stomach. He couldn't help but be captivated by Victor's protective response, and from that moment on, the rest became history. Dating Jeonghan was no easy task, but for Victor, every moment spent with him was worth the effort.

In college, Victor's boyfriend, a literature major, once read out a verse by Charles Bukowski: "When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?"

Turning to Victor, his boyfriend had asked, "What do you think, Vic? Is it freedom or loneliness?"

Victor, who had grown up in an immigrant household where his parents and four siblings had always been busy, striving for a better life, and chasing opportunities, answered confidently, "Freedom."

Then why is it now when he walks into his house, in the same streets where he used to deliver newspapers in so he could afford some pocket money for his bus card, as he walked into his house, closing the door of his Audi and opening the door to their home, where Jeonghan's absence was strongly felt because he was away attending a conference, Victor couldn't help but feel that this moment was closer to "loneliness."

After taking a shower, Victor entered the kitchen, planning to open the fridge. However, he noticed a post-it note that read, "Warm up the lasagna and don't forget to take out the trash. P.S., don't eat my muffin."

And that's when Victor had an epiphany. … It had been three days since your wedding, and you had flown down to Switzerland with Victor. As he drove both of you to the office, you were fiddling with your engagement ring and staring out at the passing scenery.

Victor broke the silence, saying, "It's a pretty ring."

You snapped out of your reverie and looked at him, slightly confused. "The ring," he clarified, nodding toward your hand. "It's pretty."

"Ah, thanks. It belonged to my husband's grandmother," you replied.

"Heirloom, eh?"

"Yes," you confirmed with a somewhat awkward laugh.

"So, how are things between you and JJ?" Victor asked.

"Good, as good as they could get," Victor responded with a chuckle.

"Good is nice," you hummed.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Victor said, changing lanes. "I'm going to propose to Jeonghan."

You looked at him with surprise, your eyes gleaming. "And you want my blessing for it?" you teased.

"Since you and Noel are the closest thing Jeonghan has here to family, you could say that. I mean, you did play a pivotal part in our meeting," Victor explained.

"My, my, Victor, I'm flattered. Who knew you had a heart under all that muscle?" you joked, dramatically touching your chest.

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Can you pretend you don't know for a bit? You know how Jeonghan gets when-"

"He's kept out of the loop," you finished the thought with a chuckle.

You both shared a laugh. "What about his parents?" you asked.

"Well, the last time I talked to his mother, she seemed happy," Victor said.

"And what about his father?"

Victor sighed and gave you a sad smile. "Well, that's a conversation best served with drinks."

"Have you guys talked about it?" you asked.

Victor nodded. "Yes, we've discussed it. He has his whole plan ready. But don't you think everybody deserves a proposal?"

You pondered his words for a moment, gazing out the window. With a small smile playing on your lips as you fiddled with your ring, you whispered, "Yes, everybody deserves a proposal." … It had been two weeks since Noel and you left, and there were moments when Jeonghan would start yelling for "El" to come down for something before he'd stop mid-sentence, remembering that you had left. Even though you'd been Facetiming regularly, adjusting to the old routine without you as a constant presence in his life was difficult. However, the joy Noel brought to both yours and Jeonghan's lives was undeniable, serving as a living reminder of the people you both held dear.

Victor had asked Leila to arrange a basket and took Jeonghan on a day trip to Lake Lungern. During the two-hour drive, Jeonghan's antsiness grew as he repeatedly asked, "Are we there yet?" Victor's patience was wearing thin.

As they approached their destination, Jeonghan's anticipation grew. "Oh, my Vicky, you didn't!" he exclaimed as he took in the stunning view. This place held sentimental value as it was where Jeonghan had taken them for their first date before it became a hotspot.

Victor was driving and couldn't drink, but he wouldn't have minded a glass of wine to calm his nerves. His heart raced, and he had cold sweats accumulating on the back of his neck. He finally brought out a blanket and a picnic basket.

Jeonghan commented, "Ah, ever since I came back from the post-doctoral program, I haven't had time to catch a break. Thank you, Vicky."

"Anything for you, Dr. Yoon," Victor replied.

"Please don't call me that in public," Jeonghan joked.

They laughed together, and Victor felt the love in the air as he looked at Jeonghan with adoration in his eyes.

After a moment, Victor cleared his throat. "Jeonghan, we need to talk."

Jeonghan's heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. "Do you ever wonder where we'd be if we hadn't met at Y/N's office nine years ago?"

Jeonghan looked at Victor, then at his fingers, and shook his head. "No, not really. You?"

Victor stood up and walked towards the lake, surrounded by flowers. Jeonghan followed closely, waiting for his answer. Victor took a deep breath and began, "I've never felt the need to wonder, and even imagining a life without you terrifies me."

He turned to face Jeonghan and extended his hand. Jeonghan placed his hand in Victor's, listening intently.

Victor continued, "Yoon Jeonghan, meeting you made me realize what living feels like. You breathe life into my soul. My mother used to say that there are no accidents in life. Even the rustling of the leaves due to the wind is written in the stars before the seed of that tree came to exist. I used to think it was absurd, but now when I look at you, I thank the stars for aligning our fates. I want all your mornings and nights. I want the privilege of growing old with you. I want your rants and all your moods."

Jeonghan interjected, "I'll become more critical of some of your choices."

Victor chuckled and said, "Jeonghan, I will love you even if you become the next Karl Marx."

Jeonghan laughed, "No, thank you."

Victor continued, "You do what your heart desires, and I'll be rich for the both of us."

With those words, Victor took a platinum ring from his pocket and asked, "Dr. Yoon Jeonghan, will you marry me?"

Jeonghan's tears welled up, and he was overwhelmed by emotions. He'd rarely cried in the past, but watching the love of his life profess his love and commitment to him brought forth an unstoppable flow of tears.

He managed to joke through his tears, "Do we really need to involve the government in our relationship?"

Victor, with tears in his eyes, slipped the ring onto Jeonghan's finger. They shared a tight hug, foreheads touching, lost in their bubble of love as the sun set and made way for a new beginning.

Jeonghan admitted, "When you said we needed to talk, I thought you wanted to break up with me."

Victor replied, "I would question why you'd even think that, but right now, I just want to kiss you."

And so, as the sun set in the background, they kissed, sealing their love and commitment to one another.

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A/N: Phew this took me FOUR days to write. I want to thank everyone who showed support and reminded me that just because something does not have a lot of admirers does not mean it is not worthy of love, time and effort. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and meet you all with the next one.

xxx

MSH.

[iliothermia]

Hi, I had some process questions I wanted to ask if it gives you some joy in writing up answers.

Your art has a lot of detail in it, and they are often larger pieces with multiple characters and half or full backgrounds. How long does it take on average to do an art piece, start to finish?

There are textures I enjoy incorporating into my art, but are extremely arduous to put in. There are other textures that aren’t my favorite to use a lot, but are fun to make. Do you have a favorite texture(s) to make? Are they one and the same?

What are a few of your favorite embellishments you’ve made? E.g. the repeating prints, objects, things you use to fill out the scene that you post on their own every now and then?

💜💛 wishing you well as always

to be honest most of the texture in my work is all just my brush I use while hand-drawing in every line. All lines are the same brush, just different size

I do save a lot of the plants that symbolize certain memories, cultural imagery, pompoms / embroidery / lace I draw though by habit, knowing I'll someday want them again.

My favorite little things I've drawn and posted alone though are -my little besamim full of stars -a hinged deck of cards based off a gift my grandfather gave me not long before he passed away, it had the art of many artists in it and really impacted me. -a comb used for preparing the dead (jewish), with the heads of a stork and a heron on them. The lore i've read for those birds is a constant reminder and really important for me as someone who grew up feeling misunderstood.

Thank you for asking and I hope you're alright, my friend 💗

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 73, Part 2

Downstar and Weedfoot are ambushed by… something.

[Image ID: Downstar overlooks a crowd that includes Oilstripe, Lavendertwist, Rabbitjoy, and Paleseed on the left, James, Carnationspeckle, Waspdawn, and Puddlewhisper on the right. Under all but Downstar, it reads + CONDITION: GRIEVING. Under Downstar, it says LIVES LEFT: 3.]

Weedfoot woke up with a sudden, violent gasp. Her memory flashed, blood spasming to catch up to the present. Phantom pain pressed her into the moist grass. Breathe, breathe, breathe. No, not just that, move. Where was Downstar? She had been right next to Weedfoot, the two on their first patrol alone in ages, a flash to the earliest days of RippleClan… where had she gone? What had happened?

The creature. Weedfoot remembered it now. It had come out of nowhere. It was no dog, no wolf or bear or human. Something… thin, hollow, and hungry. Weedfoot grit her teeth so tight she thought her fangs would pierce into her brain. She forced herself up, the memories of claw and tooth sharp against her pelt. 

Weedfoot wanted to be sick. All she saw was blood on the grass, vibrant green turned dull purple in the late evening glow. It splattered along the tall pine trunks and pooled under Weedfoot. The stench of innards and exposed muscle twisted her stomach. But the worst part of it all was Downstar, laying with her back against an oak tree, battle wounds covering her bicolored pelt and a large chunk of flesh missing from her stomach.

“Downstar!” Weedfoot whined, scrambling to her friend and leader. Downstar’s chest shivered slightly. Her paws twitched. Her half-open amber eyes stared hazily at the horrific scene around her. Weedfoot skidded in front of Downstar, keeping her eyes away from her awful wound. Had she already lost a life? If she hadn’t, she was close. But she had five to spare, Weedfoot could get her to the clerics. She would be fine. Yet could she move Downstar with a wound of that severity? 

“I’m here, Downstar,” Weedfoot moaned, setting her paw against Downstar’s bloodied shoulder.

Her paw phased through Downstar’s body.

“She’s already lost one life. It’ll take another before we can heal her, and she’ll still be in danger.” That voice. Weedfoot squeezed her eyes tight, trying to fight back the wave of misery and hopelessness that flooded her face. Weedfoot heard that voice whenever her daughter shot out a clever remark or insightful comment. She heard it in her memories, both good and bad.

Puddlespeckle and Applepelt’s spirits stood beside Downstar’s dying form, pelts sparkling and shining onto her bloodstained fur. Weedfoot wasn’t sure she had ever seen her father look so young. She named Puddlewhisper right; she looked just like her grandfather. It had been so long, Weedfoot had almost forgotten the resemblance.

“Not now,” Weedfoot moaned, her whole body shaking in a decisive no. “Please, not yet, Father. Lightningkit and Cobaltkit are still in the nursery. Waspdawn just lost Littlekit, he’s been so strong, he can’t lose me too.”

“Weedfoot,” Applepelt warned, “as someone who cares about you, I’m telling you now, do not look at your body. You don’t deserve to remember yourself like that.” They walked around Weedfoot, pushing her head forward as it instinctually looked back. Weedfoot only caught a glimpse of her own bloody paw, claws splayed out in the heat of battle.

“Applepelt is here to take you to StarClan,” Puddlespeckle explained. “I… wanted to come with for this.” For a moment that disgusted Weedfoot as soon as it passed, excitement sparked through her chest. She would see Ripplefern again. Fennelspot and Burdockstream, Lavenderleaf, Wasppaw, Paleshade… but she would leave so many behind. The dozen different emotions battling for control in her chest fused together into a single clear thought.

Downstar needed help.

“I’ll go,” Weedfoot choked out, backing up, “but not before I save my friend!” She shut her eyes as she spun around Applepelt and ran in the direction of camp. She knew if she saw herself, she would lack the strength to do what needed to be done. She was still RippleClan’s deputy, and she would do her job!

“Let her go, Puddlespeckle,” she heard Applepelt snap behind her. “This will be better.”

As Weedfoot ran home, she noticed a strength in her muscles that had, day by day, left her in recent moons. She felt like she could run across all five Clans without so much as a single pant. Even her fur, translucent as she now saw it to be, looked brighter than it had since Scaleripple’s birth. The world, settling down into a cool summer night, was more alive than ever before. And all Weedfoot had to do to see that was die.

“Oilstripe!” she yowled, voice catching against the trees. “Oilstripe!” She had always wondered what it was like for her former apprentice to see the spirits of StarClan as they roamed their old home. How she hated to be one of them that day.

Weedfoot could see the shipwreck now. The decaying wood looked golden in the setting sun, with huge shadows of spruces, elders, and rowans dappling the rocky walls of camp. Puddlespeckle and Applepelt had somehow beaten Weedfoot to camp, but they sat on the Resting Place, watching quietly. Leathermask sat guard outside of camp, unflinching to Weedfoot’s call. Weedfoot slowed at the crest of the trees when Oilstripe hurried out of camp, wild eyes meeting Weedfoot’s. Weedfoot’s soul broke just a bit more; how often did Oilstripe have to learn of a Clanmate’s death in such a way? If there had been any better option, Weedfoot would have spared her dear friend the pain. But instead she squared her shoulders as Oilstripe bolted at her.

“No no no,” Oilstripe cried as she reached her old mentor, legs weakening with every frantic step.

“Stop,” Weedfoot barked. Oilstripe gasped, paws digging into the sand and dirt. “Oilstripe, I’m sorry, but you need to listen to me right now. You can’t save me, but you can save Downstar.”

“How—” Oilstripe whined. She panted so hard, she could barely speak.

“Just listen, please,” Weedfoot begged. “I need you to find Spikecrash, Rapidleaf, and Honeybuzz. It has to be Honeybuzz, not Troutpool, do you understand? I know your daughter, she won’t be able to focus on Downstar. Get those three cats and have them bring a long pelt and whatever medicine Honeybuzz needs to treat a gaping wound. Only bring those three, nod if you understand.” Oilstripe swallowed hard, but nodded. “Do not let anyone else come with you, especially not my family. Have the patrol follow you, and I’ll lead you to Downstar. Oilstripe, when I tell you to stop, you stop. Don’t go any further, just send the patrol forward and tell them to cover my body. Don’t look at me, I am begging you, Oilstripe, do not look. Do you understand?” Oilstripe nodded once more, paws twitching, ready to run. “Now go!” Oilstripe was off like lightning, scrambling back into camp with a yowl. Leathermask jumped as she soared past him. He followed the heartbroken molly back into camp.

Applepelt and Puddlespeckle were silent witnesses as Weedfoot led her Clan to Downstar’s rescue. She could see them, sitting, watching, waiting for Weedfoot to acknowledge them once more as she made sure Honeybuzz could save Downstar’s remaining lives. Weedfoot ignored her father as Oilstripe begged Weedfoot for answers that she could not provide. She stayed silent as Rapidleaf and Honeybuzz hurried Downstar to camp. She watched over RippleClan’s camp as one by one, everyone she cared for crumbled under the news.

As midnight crept closer, Weedfoot found herself tucked into the shadows of the medicine den, staring at Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw as they sat around Downstar. Bandages wrapped around Downstar’s belly, clean moss stuffed into the healing wound. Cobwebs concealed Downstar’s smaller scars, turning her calico. Weedfoot stared into her dear friend’s tired eyes and prayed once more that she could offer some comfort. Firelight dapped the den floor.

“If you don’t rest, you’ll lose three lives rather than two,” Honeybuzz muttered, testing the tightness of Downstar’s bandages. 

“Regardless, I need to gather the Clan,” Downstar sighed. “They need to hear from me before midnight.”

“That won’t be hard,” Weevilpaw gulped, glancing out of the den. “I don’t think anyone’s asleep tonight.”

“I promise, Downstar,” Troutpool said, touching her leader’s nose, “we’ll try a few rituals to figure out what attacked you. As soon as the half-moon comes around again, we’ll petition StarClan for more information.”

“Help me to the edge of the den,” Downstar said softly. “Weevilpaw… call the Clan for me.” Weevilpaw stiffened, nodding solemnly. Honeybuzz and Troutpool got on either side of Downstar, trying to scoop her nest with her. With Downstar providing what strength she still possessed, the three inched the tortoiseshell leader close to the entrance of the medicine den. 

“Downstar’s calling a Clan meeting,” Weevilpaw called hesitantly into the camp clearing. “Over here.” All of RippleClan sat before the shipwreck, sharing tongues and caterwauls. There was no body to sit vigil for; the look in Spikecrash’s eyes when she insisted on immediate burial silenced even the most curious of cats. Weedfoot’s family all sat together, piled on one another in shared misery. James was almost hidden under his sons and daughters. Even Scaleripple joined in, hiding his head in Waspdawn’s pelt. Lightningkit, Cobaltkit, and Waspdawn’s litter snuggled in where they could, their youth providing no hiding place for their grief. Stormkit, Yellowkit, and Sandkit seemed so… hollow. Oh why did Weedfoot have to be the one to bring such despair to their eyes? When did her family get so, so big?

All of RippleClan slowly made their way around the medicine den. Weedfoot sat beside Downstar, midnight cold sinking through her ghostly fur with every stare that passed through her. Oilstripe could not look away from her, gathered tightly beside Carnationspeckle, Rattlepelt, Tallowpaw, and Slushpaw. It was all Weedfoot could do to nod at her old beloved apprentice.

“What happened, Downstar?” James asked. Weedfoot had never heard such monotone from her mate before. 

“I wish I could explain it,” Downstar sighed, groaning as she shifted to look over her Clan. “My memory is foggy. I barely saw it coming. Whatever attacked us did so with brutal efficiency.”

“Was it another Clan?” Paleseed whined. “Downstar, what did they do to my mother?” Downstar flinched at Paleseed’s cry. Darkkick crept from the back of the crowd, and Paleseed pressed her head into the older molly’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to scare you,” Downstar said. “However… from what I remember, I don’t believe what attacked us was any living creature.”

“A Spirit of Shadow,” Trumpetspore yowled from somewhere in the back of the crowd. “It was a Spirit of Shadow! Not again! Not again!” Trumpetspore’s panic swept through the crowd. Estherfern’s kits seemed half their age as they pressed into their mother, whimpering. Currentpaw wailed as Elmsprout wrapped her tail over him. Rattlepelt slunk behind Carnationspeckle. 

“Please, everyone, we can’t panic,” Downstar called. She groaned as her stomach twitched, strained from the effort of yowling. “There’s a lot we don’t know about what happened, or why. We’ll take every precaution when leaving camp until we have this situation sorted. I will not abandon you. StarClan will not abandon us. We will figure out what happened, drive out this threat, and recover, as we always do.” The cooler heads in the crowd groomed the fur of their terrified kin. The Clan’s voices died down as Downstar took a few slow breaths.

“This Clan would not exist without Weedfoot,” Downstar sighed. “She and Paleshade were the spark that gave us life. When we formed RippleClan, we all wanted her to be our leader. She would have led us well. But she asked me to take my nine lives instead so she could grieve for her first mate and find her footing once again. I regret all the times my mind turned my heart against her, and I will always see her as my sister. It will be many moons before another deputy can match her in skill and wisdom.” Had Downstar always thought that of Weedfoot? Some moons it felt like the pair were always disagreeing on how to run the Clan. But that wasn’t the truth of their relationship, was it? “Despite that, we need a new deputy.”

“We’ve never had to do this before,” Carnationspeckle muttered. “We don’t have to follow the traditions of the other Clans. We can pick a new deputy in the morning, Downstar. It… it might be better.”

“I don’t want to wait long,” Downstar said, glancing at her wound. “I’ll be recovering for the rest of the moon, and the Gathering is in two nights. We need a deputy. And I know who I want at my side.” Downstar cleared her throat. “I say these words before StarClan, so that Weedfoot’s spirit may hear my words and approve my choice. The next deputy of RippleClan will be Oilstripe.” Weedfoot rose, the weight in her heart relaxing ever so slightly. Oilstripe stayed sitting, blinking rapidly.

“But…” Oilstripe gulped. “You don’t like me. You never have.”

“There’s a lot that we disagree on,” Downstar admitted, bowing her head. “Yet your intelligence and compassion have won you many friends. You are a major part of this Clan, and I trust you to lead it when I’m gone.” Oilstripe stared at Weedfoot, mouth half open in utter surprise.

“She’s right,” Weedfoot purred. She stood in front of Oilstripe, the soft glow of her transparent body shining against Oilstripe’s ginger fur. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to follow in my pawsteps.” Sparkling light danced behind Oilstripe. Puddlespeckle and Applepelt waited at the edge of camp, sitting patiently. Weedfoot blinked and found herself standing beside the pair just as the Clan began to chant Oilstripe’s name.

“Let’s make this official,” Applepelt chirped. She touched her nose to Weedfoot’s. Warmth flooded Weedfoot. Her pelt exploded in white light. Stardust sprinkled her body in vibrant patterns. Her blue eyes burned bright. Suddenly, she knew. She knew what happened to her. She knew what attacked her, where it came from, and what lurked over RippleClan’s head.

“We have to tell them,” Weedfoot said, turning back to her family.

“You can’t,” Puddlespeckle said softly. Just as quickly as the future unraveled before her, so too did Puddlespeckle’s meaning. She couldn’t. She literally, physically, could not tell them.

“Will they be alright?” Weedfoot gulped, forcing herself to look away.

“Life goes on,” Puddlespeckle promised. He gently nosed Weedfoot’s forehead. “You were a good daughter to have, Weedfoot. Now come along. It’s time to go.”

(Weedfoot: 122, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Downstar: 132, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Puddlespeckle: 156, male, elder, strict, good hunter, good kitsitter)

(Applepelt: 31, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Oilstripe: 77, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(James: 149, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Paleseed: 39, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

(Trumpetspore: 34, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter, good storyteller)

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Downstar speak with Weevilpaw, Anchovypaw, and Wolfpaw. Honeybuzz says "We call it the Rule of Three. When times of intense peril approach the Clans, it is said the All-Seeing pulls water from the river of space and time and blesses three kits. It explains everything.”]

---

“Anchovy! Anchovypaw, wake up.” Anchovypaw opened his eye half-way. Weevilpaw stared at him, nose inches from his face. He smacked her muzzle back with a groan.

“I’m tired, Weevilpaw,” he groaned, rolling over. “Can we do this later?”

“Downstar wants to talk to us,” Weevilpaw whispered. “She’s with Honeybuzz. Come on, it’s important!” Anchovypaw dragged his head up. Wolfpaw was already awake, fidgeting outside the apprentice’s den. The crest of the sun peeked over the sea, turning the sky purple. The sleeping forms of the other apprentices rose and fell with the soft pattern of the waves. Anchovypaw groaned as he got out of his cozy nest, warm from his body heat, and snuck around Billowpaw and Ravenpaw. Weevilpaw jumped over Silverpaw and followed her friend out.

It was the morning after the Gathering, and everyone was exhausted. Halibutdusk limped back to the warrior’s den, finally relieved from guard duty as Oilstripe guided Clammask and Drumtooth out on patrol. The purple light of the early dawn unnerved Anchovypaw that morning, even though he had seen that sunrise a hundred times. Weevilpaw led him and Wolfpaw across camp to the leader’s den. Anchovypaw could see Downstar’s eyes gleaming from inside her sheltered nest. Honeybuzz sat beside her, fiddling with a cicada wing under his paw. While the bandages around Downstar’s torso were no longer so blood-stained, black ichor still stained them like a hole in the world. Anchovypaw focused on his leader’s face instead.

“What’s wrong?” Wolfpaw asked.

“I spoke with the other clerics last night,” Honeybuzz explained, waving the trio closer. “I may have an explanation for your abilities.”

“Finally,” Weevilpaw groaned, kneading the leather-lined floor. “I knew we weren’t the first. I just knew it. Why else would there be so many stories of powerful cats?”

“There’s a reason those cats come in threes,” Honeybuzz sighed. Anchovypaw moved closer, almost forgetting to breathe. “We call it the Rule of Three. When times of intense peril approach the Clans, it is said the All-Seeing pulls water from the river of space and time and blesses three kits. It explains everything.”

“Intense peril?” Anchovypaw said, no longer able to keep his gaze from Downstar’s wound. “Like now?”

“We’ve come across two Spirits of Shadow in the span of three moons,” Downstar sighed. “Think about your powers. They are designed in just such a way to prove effective against spirits and their powers. You see their influence. You predict their moves. You can even trap them in place.” Downstar pulled a paw over her muzzle. 

“I don’t like using apprentices in this way, but I need all three of you on alert and ready to help. You may be all that stands between our safety and another of our kin leaving us, just like Weedfoot did.”

(Weevilpaw: 8, female, cleric apprentive, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Anchovypaw: 8, male, warrior apprentice, playful, curious about StarClan)

(Wolfpaw: 8, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Honeybuzz: 21, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith)

(Downstar: 132, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

[sunnixsunshine]

Gonna just post this all together lol uh big post, lots of words, whatever, enjoy

Anyway, meet Roronoa Hikoboshi and Orihime! Hikoboshi resembles Zoro’s dad, he takes over the restaurant eventually while Sora is off sailing, Shinjiro is off sailing, and Takehiko is just causing massive amounts of problems to every type of authority out there lol. Orihime is actually Pudding’s daughter, her only child in fact. Idk, Pudding just eventually gets over Sanji(good, hes way too old for you sweetie tbh; narratively I enjoy their story but ooooooof couldnt she have been at least 18?), meets a new gentleman whos just as kind to her. He, too, has an interest in baking and they open a bakery together, which eventually moves to the exact oart of the All Blue where Sanji resides. Hikoboshi and Orihime meet when theyre 15/16 years old and immediately theyre pretty infatuated. With Orihime being a fairytale and love at first sight kind of gal and Hikoboshi being just as much as a hopeless romantic as his father. When the two want ther parents to meet—its pretty awkward at first lol

Hikoboshi and Orihime is directly inspired by the myth and Tanabata festival itself. As I said, Hikoboshi more so resembles his grandfather Arashi. Orihime is supposed to look like her father the most, however I wanted to play with the idea of her resembling Big Mom a bit? Mostly just the hair honestly, which starts off as brown but as he gets older it gradually changes to pink. Which makes me think about the possibility of Pudding maybe holding some kind of issues against her early on???? Idk but I would like to explore the idea! Btw, their moles are supposed to reflect their respective stars’ positions, Vega and Altair!

But anyway heres my designs for Zoro’s parents. Arashi was s two swords style user trying to work his way up to three swords style before he died. He grew up an orphan on the very outskirts of the village after both of his parents passed away when he was roughly 10. Tera grew up on the same island but she wasnt born there, her father bringing her there when she was eeeeeh like 4-6. She didnt grow up in the village though, in fact she didnt up grow up having a home town to name, she doesnt know where in the east blue her family is specifically from, they camped out in a tiny cabin in the wood with a few other bandits. She gets lost a lot, which is where Zoro gets it! She actually ended up having to choose between “carrying on the family business” (being a thief) or Arashi, and she chose Arashi because she’s actually really bad ar being a bandit. They met when they were 18, married a year later, but it took four years to finally have a family of their own. And turns out Zoro is the only kid they ever would have. Quick little details; when Arashi was fatally wounded by the pirates attacking the village, his swords were both essentially destroyed and later buried with him. And so was his earring. Same with Tera, who had genetic illness, Huntington’s disease, however she actually died of pneumonia in the winter time, but her Huntington’s symptoms were prevalent and Zoro was aware of what was going on. She, too, was buried with her earring, two of Zoro’s earrings specifically just being replicas in memory of his parents. And gonna state it outright here: no Zoro doesn’t have Huntington’s disease, but it is a fear of his that he pushes off to the back of his mind constantly. Tbh I just think it makes him more human as a character to have such a natural fear, idk.

Something I kinda REALLY wanna expand on is my idea of Arashi and Koushiro having a relationship somewhat similar to Zoro and Kuina; Arashi being a few years younger than Koushiro who has actual training to begin with, Arashi having no formal training, just his parents’ swords that they left behind. Now neither of them even knew they were like distant cousins, to Koushiro Arashi is just this younger kid with an obnoxiously loud desire to go above and beyond to learn two swords style when he doesnt have any formal training nor does he even know one swords style! Koushiro finds Arashi annoying and even talentless—and yet for several years they met in a field so Koushiro could pass his formal lessons onto Arashi. Arashi couldnt learn at the dojo because he couldnt afford it. The lessons would stop once Koushiro is being prepared to take over the dojo one day and also when he meets his future wife—so hes about 21 give or take, Arashi is around 17 at the least. Their relationship was mostly bickering because Koushiro doesnt like Arashi’s rash attitude and tendency to goof off. And Arashi found Koushiro to be uptight and too grown up. Arashi never could surpass Koushiro in a dual, both one sword style and two sword style. Hes just always been several steps behimd Koushiro and that’s what pushed him to train more. Fast forward to present day, and honest to god Koushiro NEVER connected Zoro to being Arashi’s child. For one thing, he didnt know Arashi had a kid, thats how strained they became, and another, Koushiro, to be fair, doesnt even see an ounce of Arashi in this kid whatsoever. The ego and eagerness to go above and beyond, sure, but what little kid ISNT like that?? Anyway, it comes as a shock and a part of him feels more obligated to take care of Zoro after having witnessed Arashi’s death himself years prior when Zoro wouldve only been a toddler.

[tessenpai]

Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 128.5 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans: (I recommend the use of an adblocker to avoid NSFW content) https://klz9.com/jxsh-kono-oto-tomare-raw-chapter-129.html

Page 1

Isaki [thoughts]: On my 27th winter

Isaki [thoughts]: My father passed away.

Side text: The story of how Chika and Isaki met...

Gen [memories]: If something were to happen to me...

Gen [memories]: Please take care of Chika.

Isaki [thoughts]: ---To me

Chika: Whatever. I don't care.

Page 2

Chika: I don't give a shit what you think of me. Not anymore.

Side text: When his grandfather died, his heart did as well---...

Isaki [thoughts]: He left only one request.

Chapter title: #ex [first light]

Page 3

Isaki [thoughts]: ....Whaaa---... No no, you can't be serious... This? You left this to me??

Gen [memories]: His eyes have been full of kindness lately.

Isaki [thoughts]: Where??

Isaki [thoughts]: Those are not the eyes of a child. Normally, it would've been impossible.

Isaki [thoughts]: Something like this... I've never even raised a child before, this is way out of my league---...

Isaki: !!

Isaki: Eh? Wai- Where are you goi--

Chika's father: Leave him!!

Isaki: Still...

Page 4

Gen [thoughts]: I leave it to you.

Isaki [thoughts]: Really, you ask too much...

Isaki [thoughts]: Wow.

Isaki: Excuse me, could borrow an umbrella?

Employee: Go ahead.

Isaki [thoughts]: He couldn't have gone too far yet but... Where should I even look for him?

Isaki [thoughts]: In a place that looks unsafe?

Page 5

Isaki [thoughts]: What should I do if he got in a fight again?

Isaki [thoughts]: There he is...

Isaki [thoughts]: For now, let's just call out to him. He will probably reject me but... Wait, if I get rejected, is there anything I can do after that? We've just met, so... The most practical thing for me to do would be to go back and call my brother.

Page 6

*No text*

Page 7

Isaki: ....Oh. Um...

Isaki: ...

Isaki: ...Do you know who I am? I'm your father's younger sister.

Isaki: Dad... Did Grandpa ever tell you about me?

Chika: ...

Isaki: About my brother... I think he's just a little bit preoccupied right now, so… maybe you should talk to him when he's a bit calmer and...

Chika: It's fine.

Chika: I really couldn't care less about that.

Page 8

Isaki: What? But...

Isaki [thoughts]: He was crying so hard just now...

Isaki [thoughts]: ...Ah.

Isaki [thoughts]: ...I see...

Isaki: You... Truly loved Grandpa.

Page 9

Isaki: I think the time Grandpa spent with you was really fun and joyful to him.

Isaki: I think you made him happy.

Isaki: For being with him until the end... Thank you.

Chika: !!

Page 10

Chika: u... ugh.

Isaki [thoughts]: ...Aaah.

Isaki [thoughts]: Can't do.

Isaki [thoughts]: I definitely

Isaki: Chika

Page 11

Isaki: Come live with me

Isaki [thoughts]: I can't leave this child alone.

Isaki [thoughts]: ---That was

Page 12

Isaki [thoughts]: The beginning for Chika and me.

Isaki: We haaave arrived! This is my humble abode--!

Isaki: The bathroom is over here--- And over there---

Isaki: Who would've thought you could do that...

Chika: What?

Isaki [thoughts]: He is surprisingly well-behaved.

Isaki: Here, this is my room---...

Sfx: Clack...

Page 13

Isaki: If you enter, I will beat you up ☆

Chika: ...

Isaki: Next up is the living room.

Isaki: And finally-- Your room!!

Sfx: Ta-daaaan

Chika: ...

Isaki: You got nothing to say about it...?

Chika: I'm fine just with a place to sleep in.

Isaki [thoughts]: I was just kidding... I planned on partitioning the living room to create a room for him but...

Isaki: ..............Whatever, I guess.

Page 14

Chika [Sfx]: Look around

Isaki: Hm? Are you looking for something?

Chika: ...I was just thinking that there aren't any kotos around here.

Isaki: Aah.

Isaki: I used to play it a little a long time ago. Now, not at all.

Isaki: My job is related to events so I sometimes get exposed to it from time to time.

Chika: Hmmmm.

Isaki: What, did you want to play the koto?

Chika: Nah, I can't play.

Isaki: Is that right? My fathe... Grandpa told me on the phone before

Isaki: "Chika played the koto!" He was so happy when he said that.

Page 15

Isaki [thoughts]: ----Ah.

Chika: ...Hmmm.

Isaki [thoughts]: His eyes light up as soon as Grandpa is mentioned

Isaki [thoughts]: That's probably his true self...

Sfx: Ruuumble

Isaki: ...Did you hear that?

Chika: ...Well, yeah.

Isaki: That's because I'm hungry. It's almost six, let's have dinner.

Isaki: What do you want to eat? We can go eat out or order delivery---

Chika: I don't need anything.

Page 16

Isaki: ...What?

Chika: Food, I mean... I'll be fine even with little food.

Isaki: What are you even saying??

Chika: It's enough if you just lend me a place to sleep.

Chika: I don't plan on coming for anything except to sleep.

Chika: Today I will also go somewhere else until night hits.

Chika: About my clothes... I would be thankful if you let me leave them here.

Isaki: I will make it.

Chika: ------Eh?

Isaki: Today, Isaki-sama, for your well-being, from the bottom of her heart, will cook for you. So eat. Until there isn't a single crumb left.

Page 17

Isaki: Right now, the only things I have in the fridge are water, alcohol, and snacks. I gotta do some shopping.

Chika: Eh? Wai-

Isaki: Ah, are you coming with me?

Chika: If there's anything you need, we can buy it.

Chika: ...Well, no ...There's really nothing.

Isaki: That so? Well, just stay at home then.

Chika: !

Chika: ...

Isaki: What, you coming then? Is there something you want?

Chika: ...There's nothing, really...

Page 18

Isaki [thoughts]: Yeaaaaaah, I don't get it.

Isaki [thoughts]: He is following me, but he is so far away.

Isaki [thoughts]: Well, you know? Of course, right? From a junior high school student's point of view, a woman around 30 years old is considered an old woman, right?. I'm sure it's embarrassing to walk around with one, right?

Isaki [thoughts]: I totally bought too much.

Isaki [thoughts]: Whatever--- It's just a 5-minute walk...

Sfx: Grap.

Page 19

Isaki [thoughts]: Oh?

Isaki [thoughts]: Ooooh...?

Isaki: Wai- At least let me carry one of those.

Chika: ...

Isaki: Hey!

Chika [Sfx]: Power walking

Isaki: Wha-!?

Isaki: Wait right there! Hey!!

Isaki: Don't ignore me!!

Isaki: Listen here!! I get that you don't want to walk with me but

Isaki: That kind of thing is still hurtful, you know!? I'm grateful you are carrying the bags, though!!

Page 20

Chika: Ah, no.

Chika: That's not... it.

Isaki: Come again?

Chika: ...Did you see how it ended up? Gramps house, I mean.

Chika: It'd better for you not to be seen around me.

Page 21

Isaki: Are you underestimating adults?

Isaki: Gramps house? Yeah, I took a good look at it with these two eyes. It was the worst among the worst.

Isaki: I think the people who did that are really shitty kids. And you're a fool for hanging out with them.

Page 22

Isaki: When I first heard about the incident, to be honest, I was super pissed with you.

Isaki: I thought it was too much trouble, I wanted nothing to do with it.

Isaki: But once I actually met you, you were only a child crying for the death of his grandpa.

Isaki: You have reflected and regretted. But you are still someone who hasn't learned how to look forward, at all.

Isaki: Don't you dare try to put yourself in front of me to try and protect me.

Page 23

Isaki: There's no way I will run from some brats who try to belittle my nephew.

Isaki: I will use my power as an adult to turn the tables on them-

Isaki: So you can rest at ease, and walk beside me. And every day, you can come home normally!!

Isaki: Do you understand!?

Page 24

Isaki: Come on, let's go.

Chika: Carrying it like this is embarrassing....

Isaki; Oh, is that so? Let go, then, and let me carry these heaaaavy bags all on my own.

Chika: Ugh...

Chika: ...

Page 25

Isaki [thoughts]: That night

Isaki [thoughts]: For the first time in several years I cooked

Isaki [thoughts]: A fucking disgusting A slightly different curry

Isaki [thoughts]: Chika did exactly as I told him.

Isaki [thoughts]: And didn't leave a single crumb.

Page 26

Isaki [thoughts]: He is more honest than I thought.

Isaki [thoughts]: And he is extremely clumsy.

Isaki [memory]: ----Eh? You don't want to go to high school and want to start working directly instead? Is there a work you are interested in?

Chika[memory]: There's nothing like that but, normally I would have to pay rent, and earn my living. I wanna pay for it.

Isaki[memory]: What, now?

Isaki[memory]: Your father will be paying for all your expenses, isn't that obvious?

Isaki[memory]: You don't want to depend on your father?

Chika[memory]: Ugh...

Isaki[memory]: Well, is not like I don't understand where you are coming from, but.

Page 27

Isaki [memory]: If there's anything you can use, use it.

Isaki[memory]: If you can rely on something or someone, do it.

Isaki[memory]: There's nothing to be embarrassed about.

Isaki[memory]: For once, forget about things like money and whatnot. Just think about what you want for yourself.

Isaki[memory]: But if after that, you still want to work, then I will support you.

Chika [thoughts]: ...What I want for myself...

Chika [thoughts]: ..............

Chika [thoughts]: I have no clue--... I don't have a hobby or any kind of special talent. Nothing.

Page 28

Chika [thoughts]: ...Truly. I really have nothing.

Chika [thoughts]: Nothing...

Gen [memory]: Chika!

Isaki [thoughts]: I'm home---

Chika [Sfx]: Stare

Isaki: Eh? What is it? You are scaring me.

Isaki: What, did you break something?

Chika: I didn't break anything.

Isaki: What is it, then?

Page 29

Chika: .....

Chika: Ther-

Chika: There's something I... Want.

Isaki: ! What is it?

Chika: ----------

Chika: Pi- picture...

Chika: I want a picture.

Chika: ....Of Gramps.

Chika: I

Chika: Don't have even one... so.

Page 30

Chika: If it's not doable, that's fine.

Isaki: Eh- no-! It's totally doable!!! Pictures, huh! I will bring them over!

Isaki: These are albums.

Chika: Are these all Gramps'?

Isaki: Well, there are also other family members in them.

Isaki: You can grab whichever picture you like.

Chika: ...Thanks

Chika [thoughts]: Oooh...

Page 31

Chika [thoughts]: Around this age, I can already tell it's Gramps.

Chika[memory]: Koto club? What's that, a club where you play koto?

Gen [memory]: Yeah. I was the founder of the Tokise Koto Club!

Page 32

Chika: ---...This.

Isaki: Hm? Ahhh, that's a picture of when the Koto Club was first founded.

Chika: ...Does this club

Chika: Still exist?

Isaki: If I remember correctly, it's still there, but----

Gen [memory]: Do you want to give it a try?

Gen [memory]: Haha, you are pretty good.

Gen [memory]: You actually seem pretty talented.

Isaki [memory]: "Chika played the koto!" He was so happy when he said that.

Page 33

Isaki: -----...

Isaki: Did you find what you want to do?

Page 34

Chika: I wonder if it's too late for me to aim to go to high school.

Isaki: Well, that depends on how much effort you put on i---

Isaki: Wait a second!! You have to submit an application form for the entrance exam! When is the deadline!? It's already December!!

Isaki: Will we make it on time?

Chika: I will go ask Tetsuki!!

Isaki: Eh? Who is Tetsuki!?

Chika: It's ok! I will make it on time!! If I tell Tetsuki, it will be fine, for sure!!

Isaki: Ok, but who is Tetsuki!!??

Chika: Uh... I

Chika: Will go to Tokise and

Chika: I will join the Koto Club Gramps created!!!

Page 35

Isaki [thoughts]: Thank you, Dad. For leaving a light for Chika.

Isaki: That's great!!

Isaki: Well then, from now on, it's full-time studying!

Chika: Starting tomorrow I will ask Tetsuki to help me study, so I will pass for sure!

Isaki: What the hell is a Tetsuki!!!???

Side text: I hope this sound reaches the heavens----...

Isaki [thoughts]: Chika won't lose sight of that light, and this time I will be right beside him.

Isaki [thoughts]: Please, look after us.

---Kono Oto Tomare! will continue in the next issue---