#its a two/three language pun? word play to me (that is also a bit of a stretch)

[vrieseasees]

Anyone else still in denial that Greed died? lol

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct: Chapter 6

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6200 (yup, the words ran away from me!)

Warnings: Language, mention of death.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

To an untrained eye, need and love are as easily mistaken for each other as the real master's painting and a forgery.

Deb Caletti

Chapter 6

A low lit room- more fitting of an old jail than an art lock up- surrounds you with cool air that tickles the tiny hairs on the back of your bare neck, as you bend over double, digging through the equipment in the abyss of your bag. A gap forms between the waist of your jeans and t-shirt, revealing the tiniest bit of the lace edging from your bra band- a tantalising fact that catches Marcus’ breath, alerting you to his presence, “Hey, you ok?” you ask straightening up, “Did you find something?”

“Yeah, uh sorry. Think I just had a bit of dust in my throat,” Marcus stammers, utterly thrown by that glimpse of your underwear, as he tries to clear his throat and remember the reason he was standing in front of you, “So, uh, yeah, um- we found a couple of signatures from Paul Guillaume and Albert C Barnes- weren’t they the guys we had to look out for?”

Looking over the papers with your cotton gloves still on, you pour over the shaping of the letters that made up the signatures of the possible previous owners, “I dunno. I’m not convinced- the positioning of the letters seem odd- like a crude rendition of someone’s signature. Almost like someone’s faking their mum’s signature to get out of PE class. Only the thing is, you know the movement of your mum’s hand as she signs something because you’ve watched her do it a million times before. Those signatures do not seem real to me, personally.”

Marcus’ eyebrows raise as he crosses his arms, desperately trying to hide the smile that was creeping across his face. “You faked your mom’s signature a lot?”

“Poacher turned gamekeeper,” Élodie remarks as she crosses between the two of you, straightening your t-shirt up where it has caught upon the back of your jeans.

Marcus tries not to let his disappointment show. Calm down, Pike, you’re hardly a horny seventeen year old. But that was how you made him feel and certainly the uncomfortable pressure building in his jeans might prove otherwise.

“I don’t think we will necessarily manage to get this solved today,” you begin, “The section that Élodie looked at dates it reasonably within the time period but those signatures are now tingling my spidey senses. It’s probably going to need to be sent for further investigations at a proper lab. I’m about to look at it using the stereomicroscope- do you want to have a look with me?”

Marcus nods eagerly, earning a grin from you, and you start setting up the pieces you need- ensuring that the video camera is linked to your iPad so Marcus can see everything you are looking at in real time along with you.

Marcus drifts closer to the painting. You haven’t seemed to notice his closeness yet, and he half hopes you don't, as from where he’s standing the aromatically pleasing scent of your shampoo wafts dreamily from the dark shimmer of your hair.

“So tell me more about this piece. I love listening to you speaking about art. You make it seem like I’m looking over the artist’s shoulder as they’re painting it.” Marcus remarks, smiling when he notices the flush creeping over your cheeks that his words bring.

Impressed by your decision to play into his words rather than focus on how awkward you feel at the compliment, he loves how you fan yourself and flutter your eyelashes at him, “Monsieur, you flatter me! Well, looking at this piece it’s not difficult to imagine that Soutine may have had a longstanding beef with food. Though he was fascinated by food and frequently painted these edible arrangements, this stands as one of his most memorable and dare I say, raw interpretations.”

At these terrible puns, Marcus pretends to drum, “Ba da boom tish!”

“Do not encourage her!” Jacques shouts from the other side of the room where he is labeling the bags for the slide samples that Élodie had been collecting, “Once you acknowledge one pun, she’ll ensure that everything she says has one. Queen Nush of the dad jokes!”

“So at the meat of Soutine’s obsession,” Marcus half-snorts, half-groans, intending to encourage you as you add, “You find that a combination of not having anything to eat due to extreme poverty and using what food the family did have to practice Kosher traditions is largely to blame for his playing with his food rather than eating it.”

Marcus watches you flick through your phone so as not to interrupt the finally clear feed from the stereomicroscope focussing on how you bite your lip. You quickly google the Rembrandt that you want him to look at. “The remains of this omnivorous…”

“Oh you’re still gonna continue with that theme, yeah?” Marcus’ feels his lips curve at your humour, shaking his head at the ridiculous word play.

“Oh, I can keep this going all day,” you say with the cheekiest of winks, and Marcus hopes you will.

*****

“Omnivorous obsession,” you continue, “was based on his adoration of Rembrandt whose 1655 Flayed Ox was frequently salivated over by Soutine on his regular visits to the Louvre. Rembrandt’s carcass is noted for its vivid colors but when compared to Soutine’s, which was coated almost daily with fresh buckets of blood by his assistant, Rembrandt seems downright dull. The smell of rotting beef and fresh blood became so oppressive that neighbours called the police, who almost threw away the fermenting flesh before, what I can only assume was the Frankenstein-esque assistant, shooed them away like so many flies covering a carcass.”

“Always with the focus on the graphic elements of art,” Jacques calls out with a snort at your zombie-like impression before receiving a sharp nudge to his ribs to focus on the job Élodie has asked him to complete.

“Art is just a reflection of the things that humanity finds interesting and what can be more interesting to a temporal being than their own mortality or that of the creatures and objects that surround it?” At this statement, you tug Marcus’ coat sleeve away from the piece to come and look at the feed you have set up for him, “Come on you, we’d better focus or Élodie will have my guts for garters for not concentrating on what I should be doing!”

Marcus allows you to lead him over to a black metal folding chair to look at the feed, “So what are we looking for, Mademoiselle Pathologist?”

“Hah, did you just call her mademoiselle? She’s too old for that!” Élodie shouts in your direction.

Refusing to respond verbally to Élodie’s rudeness, you flick a finger up at her and turn back to Marcus, “Madame Pathologist will do- I am comfortable with my age. So what we are looking for are any bits of difficult to detect damage, fading, repairs and the ways paints and other coatings are distributed. Also if there are any strange fibres that we can spot using the double lens.”

Hovering the microscope over the bottom left hand corner, you start to scan the piece, “So what we’re looking for are any irregularities that we might not have picked up on a first scan that Élodie did to take the samples. The stereomicroscope helps us to understand the art in more 3D terms- so we can see something that generally looks flat becomes a landscape of hills and valleys.”

“Why’ve you chosen that corner to start?” Marcus probed inquisitively, wondering as to whether there’s method in your madness.

“Just felt like it!” You shrug and snort at his look of mock horror. “Nah, it’s where the signature is and ‘cos I’m not sure about the signatures on those documents you found, I want to take a closer look at Soutine’s over here. Kinda feels like a sensible place to start.” Your eyes squint as you drink in the images in front of you, snapping up when you hear a small grunt of consternation from your boss, “Have you found something, Marcus?”

“That’s weird. It kind of looks like the signature has been scratched into the art,” Marcus squints at the signature on the screen, reaching over to the table where the possible documents with Guillaume and Barnes’ scrawls lie, “Also, I am not an expert in graphology but the letter e looks consistent across the three names- they all arch at the same point.”

“Waouh- that’s a good catch,” Élodie agrees, pulling Jacques with her to look over Marcus’ shoulder at the finds upon the feed.

Jacques escapes Élodie’s clutch and starts to flit back and forth, checking between the painting and the feed with a mild look of confusion on his face, “This is preposterous. Why have they done the signature in a different medium to the one used to paint it? It’s almost like they want to be caught.”

“It looks like it has been lacerated by a needle,” Marcus scratches at his patchy beard in astonishment, “Spot on Jacques, it’s like they can’t even be bothered to hide their tracks.”

“Ok, I think we may have found one of our fakes,” a smile slowly creeps across your face, “Obviously, we can’t be definite -there are still so many tests that need to be done but I don’t think this is an original,” you shake your head with a half smile, “Élodie, I think we need to organise for this to be couriered back to the labs.”

An excited squeal from Élodie and a soft oof from Jacques puncture the cool air as she flies into his arms, squeezing him in sheer delight. As the pair embrace with joy, you and Marcus are left there- Marcus on the fold out chair, gripping the iPad tighter than necessary- I swear that man never quite knows what do with his hands- and you sitting cross legged on the floor with the stereomicroscope lying in your lap- grinning like idiots at each other.

✪✪✪✪✪

More coffee and cakes are devoured in the aftermath whilst you await a courier to come and pick up the likely forgery- you are not entirely sure that the blood in your body hasn’t entirely transformed into sugar and caffeine at this point. After checking alongside Élodie that the painting had been carefully loaded into a van, you sit next to her on the pavement outside the auction house.

“Do you know where Marcus and Jacques are?” you question as you sink onto the dusty ground next to her.

“Yeah, they’re inside taking an informal statement from the auction house owner before the local police quiz her properly,” Élodie rests her temple to your shoulder, “Today has been wonderful. I really like Marcus - from what I have seen of him. I think this will be a good move for you.”

“I do miss having you here though. Today feels like the first time I have had both of my arms. Since you returned to London, it has felt like a part of me has been missing.”

Hauling a deep breath into your lungs to try to quell that gnawing ache in your belly, you turn to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, “I am sorry, El. To be honest, I don’t even know where to start explaining what happened or even truly understand how everything fell apart so badly.”

The mountain wind decides to blow an icy gust that cuts through your clothes to the bones of you, “It was a normal undercover job- we’d been watching the comings and goings of the gang from a inside a local greasy spoon for ages-just trying to get a clear idea of what their patterns of behaviour were and it just all went South so quickly.

“Being a tiny caff on an industrial estate by the Thames, it was open 24 hours and the day it happened, it was during the middle of a night shift when the gang decided to up the ante. They’d obviously clocked that we weren’t exactly who we said we were,” you snort softly at the memory, “I mean Jas’ accent was a bit sus for being a short order cook but still.

“The gang openly marched the illegal immigrants out of the container and made them kneel in front of the caff as a lure to us, trying to get us to drop our cover. These fucking innocents just trying to find a better life and the evil fuckers just started executing them- one after the other. Jas just ran out there straight away- dropping his cover without any proper back up, a flak jacket or anything. His stupid, kind self trying to save at least one of them without a backward glance.

“I said the code word so we could have armed back up within minutes but I knew it wouldn’t be there quickly enough,” your voice starts to falter as your throat tightens over the words.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, chouchou,” Élodie squeezes the thigh nearest to her.

“I know but I should tell someone, somewhen. You’re probably one of the few who would understand.”

You pause, squeezing your eyes tight shut as you allow that stagnant, putrid box of memories to reopen, flooding your senses with the foul gangrenous smell of the past.

Having called in backup, you make the decision to slip out of the back door of the caff and run for cover behind the large communal bins. The incessant rain was giving zero sign of stopping and the noise was deafening as it bounced off the metal sides and drummed upon the tarmacked surface. You could barely hear the desperate negotiations that Jasper was trying to make for the lives of these poor, exploited humans.

From here, hiding amongst the shadows, you could catch the eye of one of the kneeling men and signal to him as to when he should try to make a run over to you. He’d reached his little finger out to the person to his right to alert them to the plan. Achingly slowly, tiny gestures had passed down the line of five remaining fellows, from person to person, notifying them of your presence and how you were attempting to save them.

You counted them down and then screamed for them to run. Gunshots rang throughout the air as they made a break for the supposed safety of the bins by you as blue lights and sirens swirled, announcing their arrival between the shipping containers. You counted them as they ran for their lives past you.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

But the gunshots…

Jasper.

As you ran to your former partner’s lifeless form, three more shots rang through the air, taking out the associates who’d been ruthlessly gunning down their illegal chattel. Jasper lay there in the harsh headlight of the armed response unit car, his apron and chef’s jacket were no longer the starchy white that glowed under the strip lighting of the kitchen but his skin had taken on a similar pallid tone as his life force pooled around him, staining the oily surface with a bloody bloom. Knelt there with the grit from the floor biting into the skin of your knees, you held his head in your lap, stroking his cold cheek as a shadow cast across you both.

“He’s gone, Nush.”

Tears course down your face in tiny rivulets and spill into Élodie’s hair, “If I had said yes at Fourvière. If I had accepted the position St Vincent had offered me, he’d still be here. He would still be here.”

After putting a hand on each cheek, Élodie then taps you upon the nose making your red-rimmed, watery eyes look into hers, “You didn’t shoot the gun. You didn’t kill him,” she says so matter of fact that you almost feel an inclination to believe her, “You have to stop blaming yourself at some point.”

“He made the decision to go out there without back up or any protection. If I remember correctly, it was Jas’ decision to head back to London too, effectively ending the freedom you had out here,” she adds gravely, “Everyone has to make decisions, Nush. Ours just tend to have more life or death outcomes and remember, the choice you made- you saved five people.

“As for marrying him, you didn’t want to and I don’t know quite how to clearly say this but you don’t have to marry someone because they ask you. Or because you think it’s the right thing to do. You saying no to him, had zero implications in how his life ended,” Élodie smooths a tendril of hair that has escaped your plait behind your ear, “Your relationship didn’t have a true balance because you spent so long trying to hide it- everything feels so much more amplified if you are constantly watching your coattails.”

Rubbing the exhaustion from the onslaught of emotions from your eyes, you turn to face Élodie, “What if that’s it? What if that was my chance of happiness?”

“Okay so you’re now fully in the ridiculous territory, idiot! So bloody naive,” Élodie rolls her eyes and slaps your knee, “ There’s no one person out there- nobody is perfect for you. There are just people who enter your life at different times and there is a certain compatibility…”

“Like you might want to jump their bones,” you giggle through the snot.

“Yep, that definitely helps! But after a while, other stuff comes up and again, you have to make those decisions whether you want to move to the next one or work at the relationship you have,” Élodie says frankly, “ Your first proper grown up relationship wasn’t ever truly allowed to develop into something normal and healthy but please don’t ever think for a second that is all you deserve or will ever get.”

“More happened than just Jasper’s death,” you confide in your ally.

“I know sweetheart. You tell me when you are ready,” Élodie pats your leg, “You will always have Jacques and I here for you. And I reckon Pierre would take you back in a heartbeat if you ever need to escape Marcus, not that I think you will.” You feel a little confused by Élodie’s last statement but don’t have time to swell upon it as the door to the auction house swings open.

Noticing two figures- one wiry and talking rapidly with his hands, the other broad and showing great interest in what the other has to say- walking towards you, you offer Élodie a hand up from your pavement seat. You feel a gentle hand brushing over your bottom and crane your neck to see who it belongs to, “Well, I’d hate for you to make my car any dirtier,” Élodie winks at you.

✪✪✪✪✪

The trip back to Lyon didn’t allow for any more rest for tired eyes against cool car windows. Excited chatter filled the car as between the four of you, you were all busily beavering away from making shouted calls to the science laboratories in Interpol- calling in favours to get your samples tested first- to fingers tapping on screens, flinging emails back to offices trying to inform everyone who needed to know. Although the journey was far longer, it felt as though five minutes had passed from the moment you’d left the auction house- the exhaustion from your disclosure to Élodie giving way to the adrenaline pumping through your veins with the excitement of having found a piece of the puzzle.

Jacques quickly parks in the Interpol car park, where you all pile out of the car, heading back towards the offices. As you walk together, you hear Marcus answer the phone to Andy back in London, filling him in on the events of the day- thankfully leaving out the parts where he’d talked you through a panic attack or accidentally held hands with him.

You didn’t need anyone else in the London offices thinking you were unprofessional. There were enough of those already.

Marcus. So much of the fear has ebbed away about the new role, and in such little time, thanks to your new boss. This straight-speaking American, who makes you speak up and want to stand up a bit taller. For the first time in what felt like forever, work doesn’t feel like a chore to pay the bills for a small, damp flat in South London. It isn’t so much the work as you know that like the back of your hand- it was that feeling of appreciation.

That feeling that someone sees what you can offer and values your contributions- not just as some rookie in an established office but as an equal. You know you are lucky- you get to use all the knowledge from your art history degree (oh how your family had groaned in consternation- doctor or lawyer- those were the proper options. Y’know, a proper career path not something seen as being so wishy-washy) and use it to protect the beauty of art from the shadier underbelly. Not that you could ever explain that part to your mum or her sisters, who just thought you were in some IT job with ridiculous hours.

In fact, it was the first time. You’d worked your way up from being a rookie with Stephens and although you'd got to work in a field with which you had a borderline obsession, you were still always seen as the new kid, even though others came and went after you’d joined and that got a bit wearing, especially when you’d hit your thirties and as you edged ever closer to your forties, it had bordered on the ridiculous.

But Marcus. He didn’t just listen to what you had to say, he positively encouraged you to speak- never expecting you to hold your tongue or wait for the “grown ups” to stop talking.

“Hey, Earth to Anushka,” those ridiculously warm eyes try to call your attention into focus.

“Sorry, heard you on the phone to Andy and took the opportunity to disappear with my thoughts for a bit. It’s been a bit of a day, hasn’t it?” you mutter as the knuckles of your hands almost rub holes in your eye sockets.

“Yeah, I thought we’d find zip on our first check as a team but that was something else,” Marcus nods, pouting his lips in thought, “I honestly thought it was an authentic piece when I found those signatures- just shows how careful we have to be with these crooks.

“You look about ready to collapse- that sleep on the way over, not help? I was about to ask if you fancied grabbing some dinner together but you’re dead on your feet.”

“Didn’t really get much sleep last night. Was kind of dreading what today would bring but,” your hand extends to squeeze Marcus’ forearm, “But you’ve made today far less painful than it could have been.” You feel a warmth creep through you, blooming from the spot where Marcus has placed his hand on top of yours, his thumb unconsciously tracing small circles upon your skin.

“How about a slow walk back to the hotel, we grab some pizza on the way back and sit and watch Sharknado 4 this evening?” you suggest, still not removing your hand from his arm, ”I need to eat something other than breakfast pastries today.”

“Hmmm, I would say that dinner is the best time for breakfast food but yeah, probably best that we find something a bit more substantial,” Marcus relents reluctantly like a petulant child as Élodie and Jacques turn towards you both.

“Oh, why the sad eyes, Marcus? Has she been mean to you? ” Élodie teases, “We have contacts- we can make her disappear…”

Jacques shoots you a despairing look from under his arched eyebrow. The aching sadness returns in your tummy- you’ve missed them so much and missed out on so many special moments with them, “Oof, hey Nush! This isn’t goodbye- no matter the threats Élodie makes upon your life!”

Élodie leans in to sandwich you between the pair of them, “No, Marcus has given me your phone number and your email address- and he has promised me that even if you don’t respond to my communications, that he will send regular updates.” You look over at Marcus, who sends you a sheepish grin and a slight shrug of his shoulders, flashing that goddamn dimple in his right cheek.

“Élodie, are you going upstairs to get everything ready?” Jacques questions his wife, “ There’s only twenty minutes before I need to pick up Xavier from my parents so I’d probably better head off. Can you grab a taxi home afterwards? Nush, I love you and I will see you soon.

“Marcus, it has been a pleasure. I will ensure that all the details are shared with you in London. Let’s keep the lines of communication open between us, oui?” A firm handshake was not the only thing to pass between the men, as Jacques pats Marcus on the back and they wordlessly share a thought, Marcus’ eyes flickering back to you with a small smile.

“Come on, let’s find food and a film before we collapse,” Marcus beckons you towards him with a wave back to Élodie and Jacques before they head off in their respective directions, Élodie’s hand stroking yours as she walks away.

✪✪✪✪✪

Half an hour later, you find yourself standing barefoot outside Marcus’ hotel room door, oddly nervous about knocking. Your hair hangs in waves around your shoulders, still holding some of the twisted kinks that the plaits you wore it in had formed over the course of the day, face scrubbed but you are second guessing your choice of wearing pjs to your new boss’ room. Not that they were in any way indecent- just a good old pair of cotton jammies from M&S and you’d kept your bra on underneath, because not even the worst war criminal deserves to be tortured by the sight of you with your bra off. Just as you were about to head back for a hoodie to perhaps offer an ounce more decency, the door swung open and a slightly surprised look adorns Marcus’ face.

“Hey, I was just about to check where you were. Pizza’s getting cold and you should probably have something warm in your belly that isn’t coffee today!”

“Oh, I was just going to swing back to my room for a hoodie,” you awkwardly mutter in the direction of the deliciously soft looking man, wearing grey joggers and a white t-shirt in front of you.

A small pout crosses Marcus’ lips, “Come on, if you’re chilly, the pizza’ll warm you up but if you’re still cold after eating, you can grab one of mine- that is if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” he checks by lowering his eyes and gently lifting your chin.

Deciding not to keep the pizza waiting, you nod and shuffle past Marcus, the plush carpet deliciously soft underfoot, “I haven’t forgotten that we were halfway through a conversation this morning when El and Jacques arrived to pick us up. You want to tell me why you don’t feel like you are where you feel you should be?” you don’t look at Marcus as you ask him, picking the olives off the top of your pizza.

“I thought you said you like olives?” Marcus questions confusedly as he grabs a slice himself.

“Oh I do, but I’ll eat them afterwards as I like to savour them by themselves,” you giggle at your weird pizza eating habits, “Was that a wish to evade the question? Would you prefer to put on a film?”

“Hah, no! You’re full of quirks, y’know? It’s cute,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.

“Cute?” you raise an eyebrow at this affectionate comment, “Eh, I dunno. I don’t think you can get to almost forty without embracing your quirks at some point.”

“I just hoped that by this point I’d be married with 2.4 kids, a dog and a nice house. Y’know, settled- never taking it for granted, obviously but comfortable with a family,” there’s a flicker of pain that passes through Marcus’ eyes as he speaks and it cuts through you like a knife.

“How on Earth are you not in a long term relationship with a lucky person? From what you’ve shown me over the past two days, you’re kind, considerate and thoughtful- although you should never tease a woman about her supposed snoring,” you pull an ugly face at him, sticking your tongue out and wrinkling your nose to diffuse the tension in his forehead, forcing him to laugh.

“Oh, I was married once and had long term relationships but neither worked out, sadly,” Marcus shrugs, focussing intently on his next pizza slice, “Can’t the same thing be said about you? You’re a beautiful, funny and intelligent woman and although you are a menace to yourself and those around you with a coffee cup in your hands, I don’t get why you haven’t been snapped up.”

Grabbing the pizza box and Marcus’ hand- pulling them both towards your room, you say, “Come with me.”

Thrusting the pizza box towards his hands, you put the keycard in the door and the light flickers to green. Guiding Marcus by the food container through the room to the balcony, you swing the French doors open to be greeted by a stiff Alpine air and the twinkling lights of Lyon spreading towards you.

“As you know from today, I was here in Lyon before. My partner and I were seconded here to work alongside Interpol on an art smuggling case- that’s how I knew El, Jacques, Pierre and everyone else from this morning’s meeting. We weren’t just work partners, we’d been hiding a romantic relationship for just over a decade in London as we knew that our supervisors wouldn’t allow us to continue to work together,” you clear your throat and see a flash of concern from Marcus seeing how much your hands were trembling.

He reaches for your hand with the lightest of touches grazing your ring and little fingers but not letting go.

Drawing a deep breath, you continue, “You see the beautiful cathedral up there- Fourviere?” you catch Marcus giving a gentle nod as he looks in the direction of your hand, the one he’s not holding, “Jasper asked me to marry him up there. And I, um… I said no.” Your eyes guiltily shift to the left after owning up to your shoddy track record.

“I mean, I did love him but I couldn’t offer him what he wanted or needed from life or from me. We’d hidden too long in the shadows and the thought of trying to explain everything to our families, to our friends, to our workplace was just too overwhelming. I had a lot more to lose than him.

“As you said earlier, our work is very much an old boys network and as a mixed race woman against a white man- who’d got his position due to a bit of nepotism as his uncle was our London boss- I stood to lose so much more. I have always had to work harder and to be a more impressive candidate to be taken as seriously as any white man in the room.”

“Had we returned to London as a married couple, there would have been so many unspoken questions about when we would think about having babies so there’d never be a chance of going any higher for me. And although seeing El and Jacques today- they have it so balanced. El was telling me that they split her maternity leave equally and that even now their baby is one, they have flexi working times so although they have such a little one and such intense jobs, they can still be there for bedtimes and neither of them be sidelined. But I know that’s not how it would have worked with us. Jas would have worked full time and I would have been a simmering pot of resentment.”

You notice that despite your confession that Marcus still hasn’t stopped holding your hand and regardless of the evening chill, warmth spreads through you at the thought that you haven’t entirely repulsed him with your actions.

“Where is he now? DId he ask for a transfer when you headed back?” Marcus gently questions.

“He took the ultimate transfer. We were working together undercover and he was shot multiple times trying to save some people from being murdered,” with a small shrug, you take your hand back from Marcus despite the comfort it is bringing you and cover your face. As you do so, he pulls you towards him, holding you tightly into his chest, resting his chin on top of your head.

With a gentle push back from his broad chest but without leaving his arms completely, you tilt your face up at him, “In fact, other than Jas’ death the bitterest pill was me being transferred out of the department. As you can probably imagine, a lot of shit went down after that night and a lot of the blame from it was laid at my door. Whilst it was all happening, I wasn’t allowed to have any contact with work colleagues and of course, your family can only know so much of what’s going on when you follow our line of work.

“So, I spent eight months in a stupid kind of limbo- being paid full whack whilst sitting at home, mourning a man who I’d been with for a quarter of my life but didn’t want to marry.” Shaking your head slowly, you continue, “That’s why I was a bit of a mess today- I kind of dreaded seeing everyone and how they might blame me for everything that happened with Jas.”

“Shit, I’m sorry sweetheart,” with that affectionate nickname confidently trickling from Marcus’ lips, you look up and smile broadly at him, “I am sorry that you went through all that. I have to be honest, as I am a terrible liar- there is a part of me that is glad that our paths have overlapped- I just wish it could be under happier circumstances.”

“No,” you pat him upon his chest, “You don’t get to our age without some kind of baggage and in our occupation, it’s hard for most people to understand our commitment to our job.”

“Hah, you can say that again- that’s what ended my marriage. That and her new partner,” you scrunch your face in consideration of Marcus’ pain, your thumbs rubbing back and forth, “And the failed engagement is what brought me to London- kept seeing her and the man she left me for around the DC offices.”

“Let’s go toast to those ghosts and our converging paths with what will be now a very warm bottle of white wine and cold pizza,” with eyes widening in amusement you smile at him, your hands still on his chest and his hands on your back, “But indoors as it is fucking freezing out here, no matter how pretty it is.”

“Agreed,” Marcus chuckles deeply, moving his hands to rub some warmth back into your arms.

“Just going to grab a hoodie,” you call over your shoulder as you go back into your bedroom. As you rummage through your bag, you miss the flicker of disappointment on Marcus’s face that he wouldn’t get to smell your perfume on his clothes.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Hey,” that beautifully soft baritone meltingly drifted up from the sofa in Marcus’ room, “Comfy now? I hope you don’t mind but I chose Casablanca instead of Sharknado 4.”

As you cross the floor in socked feet to try and thaw them out from your balcony adventure, you shake your head with a lopsided smile, “Not ok,” but to put Marcus’ raised eyebrow at ease, you add, “It’s my favourite - but you’d better have tissues at the ready as it will make me a snotty mess.”

“Already prepared,” he holds a tissue box aloft, “It does the same to me too.”

Instead of sitting at the other end of the sofa, you grab a glass of wine from the table and slide into Marcus’ side- half sitting up, half leaning against him. He reaches over, pulling your head onto his shoulder, stroking your hair away from your face and there you stay, comfortably curled into his side. Not for the hour and three quarters of the film, but until rays of spring sunshine filter through the blinds the following morning.

Tag list of glory: If you’d like to be added or dropped from the tag list or have any thoughts, thots or suggestions, please do get in touch! I don’t bite hard 🥰

@astroboots @silverwolf319 @lunaserenade @danniburgh @leonieb @mrsparknuts @sirowsky @yespolkadotkitty @agirllovespancakes @tardisfangurl @zukoyonce @absurdthirst @green-socks @pedropascalito @disgruntledspacedad @mouthymandalorian @the-ginger-hedge-witch @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

[incorrectlumityquotes]

FULL REVIEWS: “Lost In Language”

Lost in language and I don't know much. Was I thinking aloud and fell out of touch? But I'm back on my feet and eager to be what you wanted.

Seriously? Nothing? You guys have never heard Air Supply? I mean, they’re old AF but still. It’s a funny pun. Whatever.

Back in the day (like it was so long ago) I didn’t know what to expect from this episode. The only thing I caught from the description was library, but hoo boy, we got so much more!

I love the cold opens to this show. It always reminds me that Luz is a silly ass hyper fangirl who still wants life to play out like it does on TV. 

“Learning about love and life through the eyes of a child.”

Spoken like a true person who have never done any actual babysitting. The Bat Queen gets her own soft intro for another episode, which I’m noticing more and more re-watching this show. She pays Eda to watch her baby in exchange for a butt-ton of money. Eda, in classic Eda fashion, would rather not split the cash with Luz and gives her an errand to run so she doesn’t have to do it. 

I don’t know about you guys, but liked going to the library when I was a kid. It was the only way I could play computer games or go on the internet. Getting online is the easiest thing in the world today, but when I was a kid, it was a luxury my parents couldn’t afford. And dumb-dumb kid me didn’t know that you can borrow movies and comic for free at the library too. That’s how I saw Jaws for the first time.

The library at The Boiling Isles is almost exactly what I expected. Kinda like the Hogwarts library, but with a lot more teeth and eyes everywhere. Luz has a bunch of fun just messing around, until she stumbles upon the cutest goddamn thing ever!

Amity reading to kids at the public library in her free time. My god.

I’m with Luz here. Holy hell, I did not see that coming. I thought Amity was the rival character, the Draco Malfoy of the show, the reluctant ally, the jerk with the heart of gold DEEP in there somewhere. Instead she’s at the Kid’s Corner reading her favorite childhood classic to toddlers. I didn’t know there were angels in the demon realm.

Stop. Stop! You’re already cute.

Seriously this moment made me go “aw” and laugh at the same time. It was weird. Also how does this library have a manga section? Do they import these books from JAPAN in the HUMAN REALM? Is there a publishing company that acts as the middleman? Or are these just the books that the trash slugs ended up barfing on the beach somewhere? I’m thinking too hard about a throwaway joke in the background. Big brain hurt.

AND back to reality...

Luz tries to extend the hand of friendship to Amity and Amity rejects it. I have...thoughts.

First, they this up with another parallel to Azura in the beginning of the episode. I get it. It’s a theme that they are doing, but I would have rather have Luz try to befriend Amity because she wants to, not because Azura did it. It’s not the only reason she does it, but it does kinda bug me a bit. It kinda goes back to Luz wanting life to play out like a story. 

Also, a part of me thinks that this is something Amity likes to do alone. Her way of getting away from everyone else and just do something that she enjoys and makes her feel good. We have no proof that it gives her extra credit, so she could just use that as a way to save face. She seemed so happy to do it too. 

Finally, you know what this else this reminds me of? The Karate Kid and Cobra Kai. There’s a popular fan theory that has been around since the eighties that if you look at The Karate Kid from the rival’s perspective, the protagonist is the bully. I’m more than sure that’s what going on here. From Amity’s perspective, Luz just gets her into trouble. We’ll get more into that later.

Luz walks off dejected and we get the second big surprise to punch me in the face.

Holy hell, why the fuck are you two so goddamn fucking pretty? I mean, holy shit, look at these two. My god. And ERICA LINDBECK as Emira? Jesus Christ, I’m going to be feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling in places I can’t say!

Joking aside, we get one of our first full introductions that didn’t come with a soft intro from a previous episode. Enter Emira and Emira, Amity’s older siblings who in true sibling fashion like to give Amity a hard time.  

“Hey, mittens!”

This seems normal at first. Siblings always rib each other. No big deal.

Amity storms off. The twins introduce themselves proper to Luz (and the audience) and they mess around for a bit. 

In fact, they have so much fun messing around with Luz that they decide to invite her back afterhours to check out The Wailing Star. Luz thinks that this is a great way to get on Amity’s good side by befriending her siblings. Why she would think this I have no idea.

Meanwhile the B-plot continues its adventures in babysitting. I don’t like using the word filler (so I won’t) but this B-plot is really just for two things: setting up Escape of the Palisman and jokes. It does both. No harm, no foul.

Also the twins said for Luz to meet back at midnight and Luz was at The Owl House for like a hot second. There’s like a huge gap of time there. What did she do until midnight? Whatever. If it was important it would have been animated.

Also also, I love all of Luz’s little saying in this episode. She does it a lot but they cranked it up in this episode. Featuring great hits like:

“This sour lemon drop has a hidden sweet center.”

and

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

and my favorite

“Call me a library book because they were checking me out.”

I hope they keep doing that.

Back at the literal Wailing Star (I laughed so hard), The twins and Luz discover that The Wailing Star brings the content of the books to life. Does that work for all books in The Boiling Isles or just the library? Enough. No more big brain. The three proceed to...mess around some more.

The twins discover offscreen (Really? Really.) that if you edit the contents of the book, you change what comes to life. Then the twins reveal their true objectives. Apparently, Amity has been tattling on the twins whenever they cut class or do whatever it is that they want. They’ve decided to look for her secret little hideaway (that they somehow know is in the library), find her diary and post all the pages all over school to teach her a lesson. 

Um, fucking no.

And here we enter the true lesson of this episode and probably the reason why Hecate is draw with two faces. People being more than just what they appear to be at face value. 

Amity appears to be the bully character of the show, and while she did bully Willow, Luz and King, there’s more to her than that. Amity is lonely. As a fellow person who grew up lonely, trust me. I can tell from a mile away. She puts pressure on herself to be the best at whatever she’s doing and to be the best. She hates that she follows the rules but people like her siblings seem to get rewarded for breaking the rules and doing whatever they want free of consequence. She sees the double standard that they live by and it angers her. But at the same time, everyone seems to give the twins a free pass so she can’t do anything about it. 

Even worse, there’s no one for her to confide in. It wouldn’t make it better but it would make it easier for her to just vent and get the bullshit out of her brain. She doesn’t like her friends and the one friend she did like...that’s for another episode. Hence, the diary. Amity is a big ball of frustration and loneliness. I know because I grew up in a very similar way.

When you’re forced to keep your anger inside you, you lash out at any little thing that bothers you just to ease your frustrations. It doesn’t make it okay but it’s the only way to cope sometimes just to get by.

The twins on the other hand seem like everything you’d want in a friend. They’re fun; they like you; they’re attractive; they’re attentive. But in reality, they live in a world where they believe consequences and accountability don’t apply to them. And they’ll do anything to keep it that way. Even humiliate their sister.

Luz seems like a happy-go-lucky, friends to all things kinda person, but she can also be innocently insensitive. She just does things hoping they turn out the way they would for Azura without considering how the people around her would feel about it.

It doesn’t make any of these characters two-faced. We just are different things to different people.

Amity discovers what’s going down and Luz (being the empathic person that she is) decide to try to go talk to her. 

Then I’m reminded that this is a horror-comedy.

My god, you’re ugly.

One climax later (don’t laugh), and Luz and Amity try to make amends with each other. They both have to think about how they’ve been treating the other, earning the title of bully or not. They’re not friends yet but this is...better.

FINAL SCORE: 5 - Loved it.

Damn, The Owl House is one a roll. That’s what? Three 5 scored episodes already? Hot damn. This episode was fun but it really hit hard with the character work on Amity. She quickly became one of the most interesting characters and a fan favorite. And the third act provided a good amount of horror to call this a horror comedy. The B-plot is fine but probably one of the weakest only saved by several funny jokes. This is one of those episodes I kept coming back to and a favorite to watch.

Could you two please not? I’m gonna get in trouble.

[fanfic-me-up]

Unwithering | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (1)

Part Two

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Prompt: Flower shop AU, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Warnings: Mild Swearing. Flowery language (pun intended 😉... I’ll show myself out)

Word Count: 2,250

Taglist: Reply to this post if you want to be added for future chapters!

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub​ event going on! Thank you for giving new writers in the fandom, like me, a place to promote their work. Shout out to @smolmilkyways​ for letting me use this beautiful piece of fanart above! Go check them out! Also, thanks @gallickingun​ for letting me tag you in my first fic. You gave me some pretty solid advice that pushed me to get this out here. This was originally a one-shot, but of course it turned into a multi-chap, so stay tuned for more! 

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your fists gripped the hem of your dress. The sunflowers on it reminded you of him; a burning sun at the center of your universe. The boy in front of you crinkled his forehead at your statement; as if the love you spent years building up the courage to confess was no more than a pebble - insignificant - that he could kick to the side without a second thought.

Midoriya gave you a slight thumbs up from the back, but the rest of the boys cackled with no remorse. 

“You hear that, Bakugou? She looovvveesss you!”

“Freaky flower girl and Bakugou sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Awww is she gonna cry?”

The lump in your throat was difficult to swallow, but you refused to prove them right. It would only add fuel to the fire threatening to burn the seed planted in your heart.

He stepped toward you. The scent of burnt sugar filled your lungs; like fresh apples picked from your mother’s garden, dipped in melted caramel. You heard it’s a side effect from his quirk, but it was the first time you were close enough to experience it for yourself. 

You willed your eyes to find his. The soft breeze blowing past provided a cooling relief to the intense heat felt in your cheeks. When your eyes locked, a spark flashed within his own. You couldn’t catch it in time, but your heart stuttered in response.

 Any chance of a flower blooming died the next moment.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

A year passed before you saw Katsuki Bakugou again.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Here’s your pickup order, Tanaka-san, I’m sure your wife will love them!” 

You ring up the older gentleman who’s been a regular at your mother’s flower shop for years. His wife loves the smell of scented geranium, a sweet apricot that never fails to remind her of the orchards back home. He’s convinced your flowers are the reason she’s still here; the true medicine to her illness.

You always deny this statement, shaking your head with a playful giggle, but the compliment warms you. It’s nice to hear people cared about your flowers.

“She loves only the ones made by you, dearest.”

He winks as his shaking hands grab the large bouquet. You smile and turn your hand, palm up, towards Tanaka whose eyes never fail to widen in awe at your quirk in action. A small stem sprouts from the center of your palm, growing taller by the second. You hone in on the bright yellow dot on the center of each petal. A wash of white forms around each dot, acting as a transition for the violet that envelops the rest of the petals.

Each petal opens up one by one to reveal a golden bud. 

You hand the flower to Tanaka.

“On the house,” you wink back. 

“Oh very nice, very nice, indeed,” he bows in thanks, “What is the meaning of this one?”

“Irises give hope. In Chinese tradition, it is referred to as ‘the purple butterfly’ because its petals flutter like butterflies.” 

The breeze from outside trails in at the perfect time and the petals flutter about.

“Very pretty,” Tanaka remarks, “I’ll be sure to let the misses know about this one!”

He thanks you one more time before walking out with a newfound spring in his step; the lone flower nestled in the pocket of his worn out janitor uniform. 

You’ve been working at Paradise Blooms for the past three years after your parents separated, and your mom needed the extra hand more than ever. It was difficult balancing school and work, especially when you were busy prepping for U.A. exams last year, but you could never say no to your mom. She’s been the constant in your life since day one.

The back door to the supply room squeaks.

“A little help here?” 

All you see is the top of your mom’s head, adorned with a multi-colored flower crown. Her face is covered by the high pile of crates she’s trying not to drop. You rush to catch the top crate before it tumbles.

“Phew. That was a close one. Thanks, honey!” 

She bends down to take the supplies out, arranging the items on the counters around the shop. She weaves through the aisles - it looks more like a garden than an actual shop, in your opinion, but you think it gives the place character. She stops at the row of potted flowers sitting on the far right of the shop, soaking in the sunlight cast through the window. It’s the new collection your mom got in time for the 2020 Garden Glow Event. Every year, flower shops all over the city participated in an annual gardening event to educate the public on gardening techniques with fun activities for the children. Your mom spent hours on the phone dealing with difficult vendors to get this specific collection for the event. Water sprinkles out from her palm as she takes the time to water each and every flower.

Since there’s no customers at the moment, you grab the broom from the storeroom and set to sweeping around the shop. It’s not long before your mom’s watering routine is interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” You continue sweeping, gently humming along to the tune playing through the speakers, but your voice catches when you hear, “Mitsuki! Hi! How are you?” 

Mitsuki? Your mom couldn’t possibly be talking to Mitsuki... Bakugou? 

Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the life out of the poor broom as you wait for confirmation. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The memories you tried so hard to forget come flooding all at once.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You’re snapped out of the memory.

“Yes, bring him in! Great! See you in a few, bye.” 

Your mother returns to watering the flowers like nothing happened - like that single phone call didn’t just turn your world upside down, after you spent the last year flipping it right side up.

“Who was that?” 

You’re afraid of the answer. 

You promised yourself you moved on from Katsuki Bakugou. It proved to be easier said than done. Even if you both went to separate high schools and most of your days were spent either studying or working; at night is when your thoughts strayed. You wondered what he was up to… was he passing all his classes? You’d giggle at the absurdity of Katsuki not being number one. Was he still bullying Midoriya? Did you ever cross his mind?

Was he happy?

Because more than anything, you wished him happiness - even if that happiness was not with you. Was that weakness? Was wishing for someone’s happiness, who could care less about you, considered weakness? 

“Hm?” Your mom turns to you, “Oh! That was Mitsuki Bakugou. Her son, Katsuki - I believe you went to school with him? Well, he needs a part-time job to help pay for tuition. Can you believe he got into U.A.? Mitsuki must be so proud of him.”

“I figured you’d be happy,” she continues, " I know you’ve been struggling with balancing school and work, so I thought having another person around would help lighten the load a little bit. Besides, I owed Mitsuki a favor.”

Your mother blushes at the last part.

Favor? What favor?

But that’s the last thing on your mind when you suddenly feel the need to pass out.

Katsuki… is… working… here? 

“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I - I’m not sure I can…” you trail off. Your mom didn’t know about your confession to Katsuki. When you came home in tears that day, with your dress all wrinkled, you told her it was because kids were bullying you for trying and failing to get into U.A. 

It was the half-truth. 

“Y/N, did something happen between you and Katsuki? I can call Mitsuki back right now if you don’t feel comfortable with him around.” 

It was as easy as breathing or using your quirk, second nature, all you had to do was utter a two letter word and your mom would immediately have Mitsuki on the line, apologizing for the inconvenience, but making sure to recommend a few places in the area who were hiring. A simple “no” and your world would become right side up again, the boy you loved long forgotten during the day and only remembered at night when there’s nothing to consume your mind, but him. 

Taking the easy way called out to you, beckoning you to relinquish your strength, and give in. But if you couldn’t face one boy, then maybe Katsuki was right. Maybe you were weak. 

“I’m fine, mom, I can work with him,” you say.

Pounding footsteps against the pavement outside cut your mom off from her next words.

“OI! LET ME GO, OLD WOMAN, I’LL KILL YOU!” 

“CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU!” 

Your breath hitches at the sound. You haven’t heard that voice in over a year; it’s gotten deeper, raspier in tone. You take a few breaths in and out to calm yourself so you don’t melt into the floor at first glance.

The door swings open - the “We’re Open” sign rattles dangerously against the glass -  and in barges Mitsuki Bakugou, dragging her son by the ear.

Katsuki struggles to get out of his mother’s grasp, his arms stretch toward the door, but Mitsuki pulls him all the way inside.

“I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING, WOMAN!”

“AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING A JOB!”

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!”

“YOU’LL MAKE TIME!”

Katsuki growls. His palms curving into themselves like he’s trying to reign in his quirk from exploding Paradise Blooms where it stands.

You and your mom look at each other, unsure how to inject yourselves in the rather awkward exchange. Truthfully, you’re not surprised by the interaction; you’ve seen Katsuki and his family at school events in the past. The Bakugous had an… interesting family dynamic. 

Mitsuki notices the both of you watching and immediately releases Katsuki. She smiles and greets your mom with a hug as if the previous interaction never happened.

“Y/Mom’s/N, it’s great to see you! How’s the event planning coming along?”

Your mom and Mitsuki engage in small talk for a couple minutes leaving you to sneak a quick glance over at Katsuki leaning against the door. He’s looking out the window with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms to stop himself from fisting his palms, a sign you picked up on when he’s itching to get on the field and obliterate. 

You find yourself thinking how beautiful and destructive at the same time.

Once Mitsuki and your mom finish catching up, she directs her attention towards you. 

“And you must be Y/N?  Your mother has told me so much about you!”

You catch the flash of recognition in Katsuki’s eyes, but you’re wrapped in a hug before you can think. The hug is a bit awkward with the counter digging into your side, but the warmth radiating off Mitsuki makes you feel at home. She lets go of you and turns around to where Katsuki is still standing by the door, ready to leave the first chance he gets.

“And this is my son, Katsuki,” she beckons him over, but when he doesn’t move she barks, “Don’t be rude! Get over here and introduce yourself.” 

Katsuki grumbles under his breath, but trudges over. 

“Sup.”

Mitsuki growls and slaps Katsuki over the head, “Oi! Where are your manners!?” 

She glances apologetically, “I’m sorry. He’s… a bit much to handle. I really appreciate you agreeing to hire him. He’s had trouble in the past with defying authority.”

Katsuki scowls at the ground when Mitsuki pats his head affectionately this time. 

“But he’s a good kid at heart, a little rough around the edges, but overall a good kid. I hope you’re able to see that and work with him.” 

She bows; her hand on Katsuki’s head nudges him to do the same. His nose twitches, but he listens this time.

Your mother is an empathetic person, able to walk all paths of life and notice the beauty in each one. It wasn’t like her to turn someone down in need. 

Your mom smiles, “I’m happy to work with Katsuki. What about you, Y/N?”

She’s giving you a way out for the last time. 

Mitsuki looks at you, hope in her eyes.

Doubt laid out its hand for you to take; to lead you away from the pain that still ate away at you everyday. The teasing. The pointing. The rejection from U.A. and from Katsuki. Working with him would force you to face the pain head on.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You lock eyes with Katsuki for the first time since that day many moons ago; he’s awaiting your answer, a twinge of hope laced in his eyes overshadowed by a grimace. 

You wonder if you now hold the fuel to the fire threatening to burn the tiny seed of hope he’s trying so hard to bury.

For better or for worse, you were also a person who found beauty in all paths of life.

“Welcome aboard,” you say.

[cto10121]

Mercutio and Romeo’s Battle of Wits: Or, the Mercutio-Romeo-Benvolio brOTP

Or, Mercutio Misses Romeo Something Fierce As His Main Bro Because Romeo Is Not A Whiny Wimpy Stick-In-the-Mud and Is Actually Very Fun To Be Around and Benvolio Is Good and All, but He’s Just Not The Same(tm), You Know?

So the first half of Act 2, Scene 4, when Mercutio and Romeo have a game of wits before the Nurse enters gets cut or abridged a lot, for obvious reasons. The double entendres and witty Elizabethan wordplay are very difficult for even great actors to convey them to an audience, and they don’t seem to serve a narrative or thematic function apart from “two bros just being bros!!!” That bit of the scene just feels like filler safely cut or abridged in order to jump to the Nurse’s entrance and thus the plot. R&J the play, after all, is long; the whole play done completely is usually touching three hours. Cuts are always necessary, and for the most part it’s justifiable.

But I’m not going to lie, I like this bit a lot. Always have. Not only do we get Mercutio’s attitude toward Tybalt and his growing concern over Romeo’s love doldrums, but we get another side of Romeo hitherto unknown to us: Romeo being witty and fun and actually roasting Mercutio good, even besting him in a game of wits. And Mercutio actually being happy about it and just surrendering the battle to Romeo (!!!) What is this cinnamon roll of an exchange, too pure for this world, doing in an otherwise heavy tragedy? Are Romeo and Mercutio out of character just for some punny times? Not at all! The punny times are entirely necessary narrative and thematic-wise, sets up the tragedy, and shows needed nuance and dimension to both characters and the Montacrew in general.

Where the Fuck Is Romeo Seriously, I’m Getting Kinda Worried

So we begin the scene with Mercutio right away wanting to know where Romeo is:

Mercutio. Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?

Benvolio. Not to his father’s, I spoke with his man.

Mercutio. Why, that same pale, hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, torments him so that he will sure run mad.

It’s really hard not to read even a little bit of concern in that first question past the bluster, but in case you missed it, Shakespeare makes it explicit by having Mercutio blame Rosaline and worrying that Romeo’s love for her is driving him crazy. Once again, we get the sense that Romeo was not really himself pre-Juliet, and that, according to Mercutio, this is something to be concerned about.

We then segue into news that Tybalt has challenged Romeo via letter. Benvolio expresses confidence that Romeo would fight him, but Mercutio has doubts:

Mercutio. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! Stabbed with a white wench’s black eye, shot through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow boy’s butt shaft—and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

Once again Mercutio switches to troll mode and characterizes Romeo’s love angst over Rosaline as him “being dead” (“the ape is dead!”)—which would be dramatic, to say the least, except that the tone is humorous/satiric. But it does betray an anxiety on Mercutio’s part and gives the understanding that whatever Romeo’s infatuation with Rosaline was, it was not “typically” Romeo, at least according to Mercutio and by implication Benvolio, since he doesn’t challenge it. When Romeo finally enters, Mercutio continues his satiric portrait:

Benvolio. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!

Mercutio. Without his roe, like a dry herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!

We get it, we get it, Romeo has turned a lameass pussy by ~love. But unbeknownst to Mercutio but knownst to us, Romeo is not the same guy of previous acts. How will Julietsimplord!Romeo react to Mercutio? This is going to be good.

Mah Bruh is Back and He’s…Fucking Roasting Me?

So we get the first encounter.

Mercutio. Signior Romeo, bonjour! There’s some French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

Romeo. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?

Mercutio. The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?

Romeo’s greeting is polite, open, but unconcerned, perhaps a bit breezy, perhaps humoring. Notice how Romeo before has given Mercutio a ton of slack for his satiric mocking—his only critical comment so far in the play is “He jests at scars that never felt a wound,” which can read almost as dismissive (this in contrast to Benvolio’s worry that Mercutio would anger Romeo by talking about Rosaline lewdly). Either way, he responds to Mercutio’s acerbic queries about him ditching them straightforwardly and without heat.

Romeo. Pardon me, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

Mercutio. That’s as much to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.

Notice how Mercutio doesn’t ask Romeo directly about what his business was, but rather assumes that it was sexual (“bow in the hams,” to flex his butt cheeks). Again, typical of Mercutio, but it does justify a little why Romeo, at this point in the story, does not immediately tell Mercutio and Benvolio about Juliet. And also why he says this instead:

Romeo. Meaning, to curtsy.

Mercutio. Thou hast most kindly hit it.

Romeo is 100% trolling here, doing a Mercutio, in fact by pretending to take another meaning—oh, yeah, you obviously mean curtsying, right???? This marks the first reply in which he doesn’t answer openly, but instead answers slyly. Mercutio answers accordingly with an equally troll-y, “Oh yeah, that’s definitely what I meant, super PG” *snort*

Romeo. A most courteous exposition.

Mercutio. Nay, I’m the very pink of courtesy.

Romeo. Pink for flower.

Mercutio. Right.

Romeo. Why, then is my pump well flowered.

My Burton Raffel edition, infuriatingly enough, only gives one definition of “pump” as shoe, but make no mistake—Romeo also obviously means “dick” (the pump, I think, being the “head” part of the shoe, and thus….you get the idea). Mercutio is immediately excited—Romeo is speaking his language now.

Mercutio. Sure wit, follow me this jest now till thou had worn out thy pump, that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular.

Romeo. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!

Mercutio. Come between us, good Benvolio, my wits faint.

Romeo. Swits and spurs, swits and spurs, or I cry a match.

Mercutio. Nay, if our wits run the wild goose chase, I am done, for thou hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five.

Barely does the game of wits begin when Mercutio seems to give up, and now Romeo is the one urging him playfully to keep going or else *he* wins. Mercutio could just be joking about needing to be “rescued” by Benvolio, but he does say explicitly that nah, Romeo is just too witty today to continue to “chase” the joke, or the goose (“wild goose chase” eventually became a cliché all on its own, and it’s really just a throwaway line).

And now for my absolute favorite Romeo retort:

Mercutio. Was I ever with you there for the goose?

Romeo. Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there for the goose.

“Was I ever with you for the game?” “Bitch, you weren’t with me for anything but the pussy!!!!!” “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”

Mercutio. I will bite thee in the ear for that jest.

Romeo. Nay, good goose, bite not.

“I’ll fucking jump you for that” “A pussy jump on me??? Oh no, I’m ~scared” 🤣

Mercutio. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting, it is a most sharp sauce.

Romeo. And is it not, then, well served in to a sweet goose?

“Your game has some spice, bro” “Like the spice they’ll put on you after cooking your ass????” 🤣

Mercutio. O here’s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell narrow to an ell broad.

Romeo. I stretch it out for that word “broad,” which, added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

“You’re stretching that joke so damn much it’s going to break” “As much as I’ll stretch your stupid ass out because you’re the joke, bro!!!!!!” 🤣

And then comes the end of the game of wits with the final twist:

Mercutio. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo, now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature.

“Jokes on you, bro, I’m into that shit!!! (Seriously, though, glad you’re back, bro, omfg, finally)”

Conclusions

So now for some wrap-up:

Mercutio in the beginning of the scene thinks the Romeo he knew is lost or “dead” by love. This has been established before in the after the ball scene, but here it is explicit—The Romeo he knows is gone and replaced by a pussy all over Rosaline’s pussy. Not good. There is also more than a trace of concern and worry—Mercutio is the one who asks for Romeo, and not Benvolio, the guy’s own cousin.

Mercutio is not upset by Romeo beating him at the game of wits and in fact gives in rather too easily. It’s not too clear why Mercutio does this. Mercutio has been established as a witty, satiric character. Romeo is as verbally dexterous as he is, if not more so, but his wit is warm and expressive, not satiric. His roasts and shade are playful and good-natured for the most part. By all accounts, Mercutio should have won the skirmish. It could be that he is too happy with Romeo actually making witty puns to care about winning, but personally I think Mercutio would be too proud of his verbal acrobatics, to concede that easily and make himself a willing target for Romeo’s roast (especially since he has roasted Romeo so damn hard these past scenes). It’s not like Mercutio to go easy on Romeo or even anyone, as he proves with his roasting Tybalt and even ragging on Benvolio. It could be Shakespeare is slyly characterizing Mercutio as a character who can give it out, but not take it, hence his backing down so easily, (“Okay, okay, you win!”) but usually that type of character responds with impatience and even anger. Mercutio’s replies are too amused for that. Perhaps he was too surprised by Romeo suddenly taking a page out of his book after scenes of him just angsting—to his perspective, but not ours, this does seem to come out of nowhere. But his replies don’t sound like someone who is surprised at all by this show of wit by a good-natured friend—on the contrary, it is taken as proof that the friend is back.

By the end of the exchange, Mercutio believes Romeo is more himself again. Not entirely, as he does cast further shade on his infatuation with Rosaline, but he is genuinely glad to see Romeo act more like himself again. We are once again reinforced with the notion that the mopey Romeo with Rosaline and even the radiantly lovestruck Romeo with Juliet is not the Romeo his friends have known. We receive proof of this: Romeo can and will throw shade over you for a song.

Not going to lie: I am here for all of this.

So I think it’s fair to conclude, based on the above information, that Mercutio has missed Romeo, perhaps something awful. His constant ragging on him for Rosaline and being mopey (lovers aren’t even supposed to be sad, wtf man) and his asking for him and just generally talking almost exclusively about him (that could just be his supporting character role, though) supports that. His joy at Romeo roasting him also characterizes a key component of their friendship and dynamic hitherto missing or not as present: Jokes, teasing, puns, wordplay, outright roasting when called for.

Not only is bro bonhomie clearly established (brohomie!), but also the macho culture—this exchange is far from locker room talk, more focused on wordplay than crude expression, but it does set up the dynamics of the duel scene and Mercutio’s motivations. Mercutio is most happy when Romeo performs masculinity through puns, wordplay, and roasting; when he doesn’t, or refuses to take stand in the defense of his honor, that’s when Mercutio gets frazzled. This is not because he believes Romeo is inherently a wimp—far from it, as he clearly expects Romeo, once he seems unstuck from the quagmire that is Rosaline, to duel Tybalt. He is unsurprised when Romeo throws shade on him right back, and is even pleased. So it’s shocking and disturbing for him when Romeo refuses to step up as he had done in previous scenes to fight the likes of Tybalt, for seemingly no good reason.

On a related note, expectation is noticeably absent in Mercutio’s own dynamic with Benvolio, whom he sees as helper and abettor of his wit and decisions, a soundboard, and a quasi-sidekick (“come, shall we go?” “Come between us, good Benvolio, my wits faint” “Help me into some house, Benvolio, / Or I shall faint”). When he does rag on Benvolio for his supposed sword-happy temper, Benvolio does not rise to his bait or roast him back, but gives only mildly amused replies, if gently pointed, to Mercutio’s surly displeasure.

Benvolio. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mercutio. The fee simple? O simple!

Mercutio may want to fight someone badly enough to go after Benvolio, but he also wants a challenge, the excitement of a back-and-forth of wits—hell, even for someone to tell him he is full of shit if so he could hit back. Perhaps that’s what Mercutio needs and perhaps secretly desires: Someone to roast him and tell him to shut the fuck up every once in a while. But would Romeo do this?

Nurse. I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this that was so full of his ropery?

Romeo. A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear himself talk and will speak more in a minute than he would stand to in a month.

The answer is yes. Yes, he would.

R&J Adaptations’ Weirdness with This Exchange

So why the difficulty retaining this fun exchange? Well, Romeo talking about well-flowered pumps and Mercutio just happily taking his roasts goes against the usual romantic!Romeo and charismatictroll!Mercutio characterization of earlier scenes. Even in adaptations that do keep this part of the scene, they tend either to brush it by (Baz Lurhmann) or even mischaracterize it a bit to keep it consistent with the interpretation of the characters as established (Zeffirelli). McEnery’s Mercutio in the Zeffirelli is in control and dominant all of the way through, and one of his lines (“Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting, it is a most sharp sauce”) is given to Romeo instead. The Baz Lurhmann plays it only broadly in terms of group male camaraderie and not so much Mercutio-Romeo dynamics; Benvolio does not participate in the game of wits and is by all accounts just vibing (my personal troll headcanon is he is keeping track of the game of wits on a slate. 2 Romeo, 1 Mercutio, that sort of thing).

Also, perhaps due to Mercutio being on Romeo’s case for most of the play and his being a lil’ shit at points, some adaptations take a weird Ho Yay approach to the dynamic, especially productions that make Mercutio gay or queer. If so, then productions have to do a lot of heavy lifting to interpret Mercutio’s gleeful/amused roasting of Romeo, his lewd blazon of Rosaline, and his anger at Romeo’s loss of honor in refusing to fight Tybalt as signs of romantic love towards Romeo. Romeo’s own emotional independence from his friends and his willingness to roast Mercutio also works against this interpretation. Thus another reason why this exchange is often cut or abridged (although the Globe Theater just decided to go ahead and have Mercutio roll all over Romeo while Romeo is roasting him as a shameless pussy chaser in this scene, because of course that makes perfect sense. Is it any wonder why I don’t like most R&J productions and adaptations?).

The only adaptation I know that gets the camaraderie and dynamics even close to right is the French musical (and to a certain extent, the Hungarian version) through that earworm and evergreen bop, Les Rois du Monde. It captures the spirit of their friendship and youthful zeal so delightfully. Mercutio, Benvolio, and Romeo were so well cast you can identify which is which at a glance—and they are literally as far as from my personal faceclaims for them as you can get, and it’s great. Presgurvic didn’t have to go that hard, but he did and it was glorious.

TL;DR

Mercutio roasts him, Romeo enters, they trade quips and wordplay, Romeo roasts him, Mercutio is too happy to gaf, and everything is character-building fun that will pay off very nicely later on, except that versions and productions can’t make the puns and wordplay comprehensible so they prefer to cut or abridge it (ten points from Gryffindor). And all because Mercutio actually misses Romeo and wants his bro back. Bruh.

[sapphiewritesandstuff]

Could you do Headcanons of the twins seeing their former crush when they were alive in school to coming back years after as teacher?

Your wish is my command, Anon-san~

Although it was never specified that Tsukasa had a crush on the reader, I hope this does imply it. In my head, he’s a very chaotic character and probably wouldn’t recognize the feeling of crushing on someone. I hope I conveyed his affections for the reader in his own, unique way :D

Headcanons of the Yugi Twins’ Former Crush Returning as a Teacher

Hanako (Amane Yugi)

The first time he heard of you, it was from Nene

“Hanako-kun! We have a new English teacher. She came from America and can speak over five languages! She even let us call her by her first name!”

That, he found weird.

Afterall, you had moved away to America a year before his death.

And you were cool

Could it be…?

No way, he told himself. Things like that don’t just happen!

But he decided to check it out himself

So the next day when Nene was in class, he floated to the teacher’s lounge

Before he could even go into the lounge, he heard someone say, “Wow, (Last Name)-san, that’s amazing.”

It hit him

(Last Name)... it had to be you, right.

But Hanako knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up too high

What if it wasn’t you after all?

Deep down, he hoped it is you

You had left before he had the chance of confessing his feelings. And then he died.

Hanako might be dead, but his love for you isn’t

The door opened, and you walked out, laughing about something.

It is you. You look older but he could still tell it was your beautiful face.

He took a moment to admire you.

His immediate concern is that you can’t see him.

That breaks his heart but he pushes his disappointment away to think of a plan for you to notice him

“Hey, Yashiro. Can you do me a favor?”

Nene gave him a wary look, “Depends on what it is.”

She had a gut feeling it was going to be something concerning her new English teacher…

Tsukasa Yugi

Tsukasa had found you unintentionally.

He was going around the school, looking for some poor spirits to torture— er, to play with.You went straight through him, literally.

He stopped for a minute, brows furrowing, his usual grin faltering.

It can’t be you.

You had been his friend when all the other kids thought he was strange and wouldn’t play with him

Except Amane, of course

You never really hung out with him when his older twin brother was around

But you always found time to hang out with him alone

Then you moved away without saying a word to him

He only knew because of Amane bursting into tears one night

Tsukasa asked him what was wrong and the news of you leaving came out quickly

So Tsukasa assumed you left because he didn’t want to be his friend anymore

It’s okay though, he still had Amane!

But if you didn’t want to be his friend anymore; why would you come back years later? After his death, nonetheless.

He decided to find out

So he followed (stalked) you throughout the school, not even bothering with the mokkes he saw along the way

Strange, indeed.

Like Hanako, he also found you to be… slightly different, but in a good way.

Your face lost its roundness and obtained a more angular look to it

Your eyes lost the naivety it once held, replaced with an intelligent glint

And your body, well

You had grown a lot in the years you had been away, so much that you were now much taller than him

Tsukasa couldn’t decide whether he liked that or not

But in the end, he decided he loved everything about you

He loved you just as much as he loved Amane!

“What?” Hanako’s brows furrowed as the mokkes continued, waving it’s ears around urgently. “That scary apparition was following that girl you wanted to meet!” 

He frowned, feeling conflicted. On one hand, Hanako was puzzled as to why Tsukasa of all people would stalk you around the school. His brother hadn’t been very close to you from what he knew, so why would his twin do such a thing? Unless there’s something he was missing…

On the other, it made perfect sense. Tsukasa had figured out that you were someone precious to Hanako, which made you an obstacle in the way of his older brother’s love. 

“He wouldn’t…” Hanako muttered to himself, gazing out the window towards the direction of the staff room. 

---

“Yashiro-chan, are you sure?” You laughed nervously as the ombre haired girl stubbornly pushed you into the girl’s bathroom. “Please, (Name)-sensei. Everyone is terrified of Hanako-san of the Toilets. It would make everyone feel better if you proved that the rumor is fake!” Nene gushed, shooting the third stall door a look that said, I’m doing this for you, Hanako-kun, so you better be grateful! Inside the third stall, Hanako gave her an apologetic look, despite the fact the radish-legged girl can’t see it.

You sighed, a long, drawn out sigh that echoed across the small space you two occupied. “Alright, Yashiro-chan, I’ll do it to rest your spirits.” Nene bit back a laugh at the unintended pun. 

“So…” you muttered to yourself, a habit you had that Hanako remembered vividly from your middle school days. 

Knocking three times on the red bathroom door, you cleared your throat before asking in a clear voice, “Hanako-san, Hanako-san, are you there?” Behind you, Nene braced herself for Hanako’s entrance and your reaction.

In the sing-song voice he used on her, Hanako-kun replied lightly, “Here I am~” before setting a hand down on your shoulder, much like what he had done for Nene. Being the great actress she is, Nene screamed dramatically, pointing at the apparition floating beside you, “(Name)-sensei! It’s a perverted toilet ghost!” Of course, taking the time to insult the said ‘perverted toilet ghost’.

Hanako sent an unimpressed look her way (one which she ignored). You had been pretty calm up until this point, your only reaction being an initial flinch.

You sighed, turning away from Hanako to send Nene a flat look. “Yashiro-chan. This is funny and all, but I have better things—”

Before you can finish, Hanako circled around, hovering in front of you, flashing you the smug smirk you knew all too well. “Better things to do, huh, (Name)-chan?” 

Your eyes widened, mouth opening in disbelief. “Amane-kun?” 

Hanako tipped his hat, not forgetting to shoot you a wink along with it. “The one and only,” his eyes softened when tears came to your eyes, “and didn’t I tell you to drop the honorifics?”

You were in shock. “H-How? I heard that…” you trailed off, face crumpling into grief. Hanako nodded gravely, a comforting smile replacing the smirk he had one before. He floated forward cautiously, testing your reaction. When you held out your arms without a word, he met you halfway in a bittersweet embrace. 

Nene backed away from the two, silently giddy. Now Hanako-kun can be happy, she thought happily, watching the heartwarming reunion of the two former best friends. Right when she was about to back out of the bathroom, she bumped into something. Looking up, she stared right into Tsukasa’s smiling face. 

“Ahhhhh!”

You looked up sharply at Nene’s scream, concern for your adorable student overwhelming the blissfulness of being in Amane’s arms again—

Wait, what are you even saying? No, this isn’t the time for this! 

Shaking the thoughts away, you followed after Hanako, who had floated ahead of you to check on Nene, brows furrowed with concern—for you or the radish legged girl—you don’t know. But selfishly, you hoped it was the former. 

“Yashiro?” Hanako asked, voice slightly strained. Silence. Nothing from the ruby-eyed girl. 

Instead, a different voice answered, “Wow, Amane, I thought the older brother knew to share with his younger brother~?”

Hanako’s amber eyes widened as the figure with his face rounded the corner. Tsukasa grinned, eyes narrowing slightly. He did not reach out to glomp his elder brother, instead opting to turn his gaze to you.

You watched, a multitude of feelings fluttering around in your chest, constricting your breathing. “Tsukasa-kun…”

Tsukasa tilted his head to the side, giving you a closed eyed smile, waving his entire arm, “Hey, (Name)-chan! I thought I’d never see you again.” His voice lowered at the end of his greeting, giving you the chills.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t stop yourself from running up to hug the second of the two people you thought you’ll never see again. Despite being a spirit, Tsukasa felt as he had always felt, albeit missing the familiar warmth you used to get from hugging the younger twin.

You heard Hanako’s warning for you to stay away from his twin. You ignored in favor of gripping Tsukasa tighter, fearing if you let go, he would disappear again. Tsukasa stroked your hair softly, softly uttering words of comfort while he sent his older brother a smug smirk.

Hanako gritted his teeth, clenching the handle of his trusty kitchen knife tighter. He could see that Tsukasa would not hurt you, but the brief moment of relief was washed away by the feelings caused by the content look on your face and the smug look on his brother’s.

Sensing a disaster about to unfold, you released Tsukasa, stepping back so you could look at both twins. “You guys…” Giving them both a genuine smile, you grabbed Hanako and brought them both to your chest.

It was messy to say the least. Tsukasa’s cheek squished against Hanako’s and you were all on the ground in the girl’s bathroom, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you can interact with the two people you thought you had lost forever.

That's all that matters.

[ranmanjuu]

Can i request an ikesen hc, how would warlords react to a mc which is a physics major like sasuke and since they are both nerdy they spend a lot of time together and talk a lot about theories and all that science stuff. I think they'll get a bit jealous that mc is spending time with sasuke and confused as to ehat they're talking about lol

as stated before i have absolutely no idea of how physics is, much less of being a physics major. so like,,,,,,, all theories are ambiguous. they don’t exist other than that word. what are they talking about? the one who asked knows not more than the asker.

—shingen:

the first time of him seeing you talk with both such seriousness yet a twinkle lights in your eye, he can’t help but a chuckle let through.

“so, has sasuke finally found someone for himself?”

at first he plays up a bit of, “us mortals cannot understand what you’re speaking, my beloved deity, for you speak the language of the gods!” (”but sasuke can understand them though—”)

would absolutely, and constantly tease you for anything and everything. you could be talking about the inner workings of geophysics with sasuke and you’d hear the faint sound of wiggling eyebrows and metaphorical saxophone playing.

but of course, this won’t stop shingen from trying to win you over.

he does it his own style, the classical flirting with his sexy stature. yet, you always quip back in the jargon language he knows nothing about—and his several seconds of confoundment proves to be a good strategy as you flee the scene.

prior to you telling him that you were from the future, he did find it suspicious how you have so, so many “things that came from your hometown” that was painfully specific. and he’s shingen takeda, he’s known for being well-informed, so why hadn’t he heard of this before? some villages have their own tradition, yes, but it’s usually not enough to write at least twenty dictionaries about.

and even if he wants to find it, where would he go? the only two people who’ve learnt it are you and sasuke.

although he begins to pick up basic things whenever you talk to either him or the ninja. just small references that a high schooler can pick up.

for the sake of it, shingen’d probably try to do a physics pick-up line on you. but due to the lack of knowledge he has, it ends up with you on the floor laughing until you’re clenching your sides.

you can’t help it! it’s so wrong on so many levels it’s insanely hilarious while also painful.

after the laughter dies down, shingen takes it upon himself and pins you to the wall, his sultry eyes burning into yours, “well, it seems my goddess can do a bit of fixing on those, hm? please, my muse, do demonstrate how you do it properly.”

—kenshin:

(honorable mention hc: if you ever use terminology before the affectionate part of him comes in he’ll practically frown at you in deep confusion, “what are you talking about, you fool?”)

if his ninja had met you before he did, he probably wouldn’t have much of a problem. sasuke talks to someone, all he does is frown and just doesn’t care. but hoo boy you managed to slither into his heart without him even noticing it.

he’s just looking around the market for you, until he sees the sight of you chattering so brightly and passionately,,, with sasuke.

phase one: pouty mode. it lasts only for a few second, but his lips form a very strong scowl as it processes in his mind.

(phase one and a half: it’s where he glances at you and notice how you twinkle so brightly in his eyes—like a star beaming at him. except it isn’t at him. and so this honorary phase ends)

phase two: in a split second of his braincells barely managing together, he unsheathes his sword and begins to fish sasuke away from you. (”let’s duel, sasuke.”  /  “i’m afraid i was having a conversation with—”  /  “fight or i kill you this second.”)

phase three: usually it’s where you pull him away and lightly scold him, thus ending his bloodlust.

phase four: usually happens after the other party has left. pouty mode two: electric boogaloo; as he sulks like a child in envy and jealousy and you’re forced to cuddle with him and give him lots of kisses so he Functions properl after that.

of course, you can’t just let it repeat. you had a talk after some time, entailing that, kenshin, please stop chasing your vassals because they say one (1) word to me. with a lot of grumbling and reluctance, he agrees to it.

it won’t stop his lips forming into a scowl at the sight of it though.

he curses the oldened knowledge of the sengoku—he wanted you to talk to him about those big brained things. but alas, there wasn’t much he could do.

(”no, kenshin, you can’t go to the future just cause you wanna learn everything i learnt! the wormhole is gone and it takes at least 4 years—”)

—yukimura:

yukimura meets you the second time while talking to sasuke down in the market. and the decision to rebrand you from a wild boar to a witch casting spells were made in the flick of a second, just like that.

“hey, are you trying to hex my fried, enchantress?!”  /  “yukimura, they’re a friend from my hometown, it’s alright.”  /  “oh.”

as he says, a friend of sasuke is a friend of his! though he still doesn’t understand at all each time you make a physics reference, and still isn’t partly convinced you at least know an ancient language.

he doesn’t exactly buy into the whole ‘hometown-specific’ thing either, but hey. it’s sasuke and you, if you’re lying, he thinks, he’ll let you tell him in your own time.

but in the meantime, the fact you know terminology to references he doesn’t understand makes your daily bickering a lot funnier. what’s an atom and is his brain really smaller than that as you said? fun thing is he’ll probably never know if you and sasuke withhold such information.

if he ever sees you experimenting with something to examine the components, as long as it isn’t dangerous, he’d look at you in mild amusement and confusion, “what are you doing, silly?”

but if it dangerous (like guns, fireworks, etc.) he scolds you with a scowl, one born from pure worry.

once you two got together, you started going to dorky science puns. once again, yukimura doesn’t understand it, but the stupid grin you have on your face is just enough for him.

(he does ask sasuke about it later, resulting in a bright faced yuki, muttering a small “idiot,,” under his breath.)

—sasuke:

the moment you saw him at honno-ji, present day, you felt there was something familiar to him. like it’s a face you’ve passed through in the bustling streets. and the moment you saw his lab coat, you just assumed he somewhat came from the same college as you.

and just after he corrected you referring to him as “that college student” being an astrophysicist, your eyes brightened a thousand times, but tried to stifle it considering you were more or less being chased. 

you listened into his explanation of the wormhole closely, processing each word in fascination and curiosity. you had enough experience to know what he’s talking about—and it gave you so much euphoria from just simply listening in.

you hope to meet him again as he disappears in the shadows.

you do, to your delight. the very first day you went out to town, you encountered him at a stall. conversation immediately took off once you re-mentioned his degree, along with yours. from there, the wormhole was the center topic again, mostly talking about how he found where it would be and when it would be. you’d never heard of such a research back then.

and slowly, you grow an admiration to sasuke’s high intelligence. all the research he’s done, he’ll definitely show a fellow enthusiast, and you’re practically beaming at the chance.

so much so that you don’t notice the weirdened stares of the ones around you.

there nights when you’d sneak into his room just to ask him about something, or propose to him a theory since he’s the only person who’d get it.

and on some sleepless nights, you find yourself lying about with sasuke beneath the stars, peering into his telescope once in a while and geeking out about the small dots in the sky.

a part of you wished you met him sooner—but you feel like you couldn’t ever ask for more.

—yoshimoto:

truth be told, he didn’t care much at first.

his somewhat apathy towards people and more towards art becomes just ever so slightly apparent; as he lets you rant your heart out to sasuke while he admires some cloth in the background. you have your preferred friends, it isn’t his place to be opposed to it.

well, that’s what he thought of it—until you slowly got closer to him.

through talks of art and the different medias from your “hometown”, he learnt more and more about you. and his heart grew fonder and fonder.

until—for whatever reason—he found himself,,, feeling some kind of upset by the sight of you talking to sasuke so brightly like that? it’s like a part of him doesn’t sit well with it.

while he isn’t quite sure what he’s feeling, he’ll try to fish you away regardless. his good looks aren’t for nothing, even still having its charming effects on you.

putting up somewhat of an airheaded act, he mindlessly pulls you out of the conversation to look at some beautiful fabric, catching you off-guard for a moment. if you try to mention your talk with sasuke, it’s as if he doesn’t hear it as he whisks you off to another store. and another, another—until you’ve gotten some distance from the ninja.

even with all that effort, he doesn’t think much into the feeling inside his heart. what then felt like a storm, was now a welcoming, warm spring breeze in him.

he’ll figure it out, one day.

[twdbegins]

Spooked

__

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language. 

A/N: A lot of pet names in this...haha SHOCKER. Here’s a little early Halloween addition fic! I’ll have more holiday fics coming soon.

Requested by: @birdieofloxley

Word Count: 1,835

“Why would you make up something like that? You really scared me.” 

__

The legs of the chair you were sitting in squeaked as you leaned forward, tuned in to what Negan was saying. It was late October (or at least, you had estimated that it was October) meaning Halloween was soon approaching. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays as a kid. The candy, the trick or treating, the costumes were all part of the spooky experience. As you got older, you cared less about the costumes and more about the scary movies. Almost every Halloween (pre-apocalypse of course) consisted of you curling up on the sofa with a bowl of wrapped chocolate with some sort of scary movie on. 

The only downside to this was that you were a bit jumpy. It didn’t take much to get you feeling paranoid and have you checking under your bed for monsters. Which was ironic considering you literally lived in a world where there were horror movie like creatures roaming at every turn. 

So you weren’t really sure how you ended up here. Sitting with Negan and Simon outside of The Sanctuary after hours on a particularly cold night, listening to the two of them tell scary stories. Negan was recalling the time he almost became walker food when he was out on a run alone once. His voice was low and deep, his eyes fixed on yours as he spoke;

“Its hand barely had any skin left on it...it was basically all bone at that point,” He described; “For a half rotted roamer, it had a nasty grip on me though.” 

Your heart was beating crazy fast in your chest. You couldn’t even imagine how scared you’d be if that had happened to you. The fact that he was able to laugh about it now was astonishing. 

“I was able to reach my knife and just as it went to sink its teeth into my calf, I drilled the blade into its head,” He told; “I stabbed it an extra time for good measure. It took me at least a good five minutes to get it completely off of me because I was shaking so bad.” 

You were wide eyed now as you processed everything he was saying. Simon sucked in a breath before sighing it out;

“Shit. I don’t even think I’ve ever come that close to being roamer chow,” He admitted. He noticed the chill that went up your spine, prompting him to one up Negan’s story by telling his own; “You think that’s bad? Let me tell you about the time I was chased by my neighbor who was an escaped convict for murder.”

Your head snapped in his direction;

“You’re not serious.” You gaped.

Simon put his hands up in defense;

“It’s true. I swear.” He said with a hint of smirk appearing.

It wasn’t true. As excitedly terrifying as it may sound, Simon had never known any murderers or real criminals in his day. He was just making this up off the top of his head.

“You’re fucking with us. No damn way that happened.” Negan bantered.

Simon chuckled;

“You wanna hear the story or not?” He asked sassily.

You and Negan shot each other glances, before turning your attention back to Simon.

“I was about 18. Just about to go off to college,” He began; “This guy lived about three doors down and had always been a little odd. He very rarely came out of his house, but it was always dark. He had weird vibes all around. All the parents in the neighborhood wouldn’t dare let their kids go play around his house.”

You were nervously chewing on your thumb nail as you listened intently. You didn’t like the fuzzy feeling that was bubbling in your belly. 

“It wasn’t a surprise that none of us knew that he had been arrested and thrown in prison. His house was exactly the same when he wasn’t around. I felt bad for the guy. For all I knew, he was just a lonely guy with no one to talk to,” He continued; “So one day I thought it would be nice to hand deliver his morning newspaper to him. I went to the front door, knocked, but didn’t get an answer.” 

You didn’t like where this was going. You were quite literally on the edge of your seat as you took it all in. Negan himself even refrained from interrupting, curious to see how this would end.

“I heard some sort of racket in his backyard, so I walked around and through the fence. And what I saw about made me damn near sick,” He explained; “He was in his prison jumpsuit and all. And he was burying a body in his backyard.”

Your heart hit your shoes and bounced back up to your throat. Negan’s jaw dropped and his face went pale. This was the most insane story you had ever heard. 

“I was going to just make a run for it and pray to God I could forget about it. But then he saw me standing there like a deer in headlights,” He said rubbing his slightly chilled hands together; “I shit you not, the fucker dropped the shovel and started running at me.”

You were speechless. How had he never told you this story before? More importantly, how did this not traumatize him? Now Negan was just as wide eyed as you, stunned at what he was hearing. 

“I swear my feet left the ground before I could even think. I sprinted in the other direction and started screaming bloody murder...no pun intended,” He snorted; “Anyways, to make a long story short, I managed to run out of my neighborhood and found a policeman down the street. Turns out he had escaped his cell that morning and they had been on the hunt for him all day because they were afraid of what he might do. That body was some random guy that he encountered after his escape.” 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The hairs on your arms and legs were sticking straight up. You suddenly had the eery feeling that someone was looking at you. 

“My mom had to come pick me up from the police station. I was convinced she wasn’t going to let me go off to school after that,” He joked; “But once it was all cleared up, things turned back to normal...but I still would get a sense of fight or flight every time I visited home. But, hey, shit happens.”

Simon finished his story nonchalantly. As if he hadn’t just confessed that he had almost been chopped to bits by a psycho killer. You felt like your heart was going to make a leap of faith out of your chest. You had never heard anything like that in your entire life. Negan shook his head to shake the thought;

“You were had a life or death encounter with a serial killer and all you can say is ‘shit happens’? Simon, I may have pegged you wrong,” Negan stated; “You are one badass motherfucker.”

Simon grinned and shrugged. He had been lying, of course, but if it earned him brownie points with the boss, then he didn’t mind dragging it out. You were shocked silent. What do you even say to that? Negan smiled, shaking his story off effortlessly;

“I don’t know if I can top that, but have I ever told you two about the time I fought off a rabid raccoon?” Negan asked with a raised brow. 

Simon caught your ghostly and tired look and stood from his chair;

“No and I’d love to hear it, but I think she’s had enough storytelling for one night.” Simon said guiding you up from your chair. 

Negan shrugged with a scoff;

“Suit yourself. It’s one hell of a story though.” He said standing from his own seat.

Simon assured him of another time to tell it and finally walked you back inside from the courtyard. Simon had already completely discarded the story he had just burned into your head. He didn’t even catch the slight shiver in your limbs. You were rattled and even a little terrified. You felt like a little kid who swears they had heard a monster under their bed. Simon slipped his hand into yours as you walked back to your floor;

“So, I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” He asked softly in your ear, careful not to wake anybody else up. 

He wasn’t going to leave you alone tonight, was he? Surely not after all that. You stopped his trek and looked at him with pleading eyes;

“Can I stay with you tonight? Please?” You asked gently; “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” You confessed.

Now, he realized something was up. He instantly agreed, leading you to his room. He watched as you quietly got ready for bed and crawled under the sheets and covers. He followed suit, pulling you to him. You latched onto him like he’d float away if you didn’t. Simon looked down at you with worried eyes;

“What’s the matter, baby?” He asked sweetly.

You buried your face into his soft shirt and shook your head. You didn’t want to admit you were scared, but you also couldn’t get the thought of being chased by a crazed killer out of your head either. He rubbed your back comfortingly and encouraged you;

“Darlin’, you can talk to me. Always.” He cooed.

You mumbled against him. He rested his chin on your head, taking in the scent of your favorite soap. His brain racked up any ideas of what was making you so fidgety. He finally thought back to the story that he had just told about a half hour prior. He suddenly felt guilty. He didn’t think it would’ve scared you this bad...especially since it wasn’t even true.

“Is it the story I told just a little while ago?” He asked.

When you nodded, he whimpered out an airy sympathetic sound. He held you tighter and admitted his lie;

“Oh, sweetheart, that didn’t actually happen. I just made it up.” 

You paused and looked up at him. The way your glossy eyes shimmered and lower lip quivered broke his heart;

“Really? You’re not just saying that?” You asked desperately.

“I promise. The whole thing was just a story.” 

Your brows furrowed, suddenly a little annoyed;

“Why would you make up something like that? You really scared me.” You said truthfully.

He kissed your forehead and hummed deeply;

“I didn’t think you’d actually believe it. You always see through my bullshit.” He grinned brightly.

You growled faintly;

“Not always. I literally thought you were serious.” 

“I’m sorry, [Y/N], I didn’t mean to.” He apologized. 

You nuzzled back into his frame, accepting his apology. You were mostly relieved that didn’t actually happen to him though. You would’ve been scarred for life. 

“That’s okay. You really could’ve been an actor, might I add.” You joked.

He scoffed, kissing your skin;

“I’ll stick to storytelling in the courtyard.” 

[hoonieistrash]

ephemeral love

pairing: jack! taehyung x rose! reader (x fiance! jungkook)

synopsis: As an aristocratic young woman, you are to be wedded as soon as you set foot in Philadelphia. Boarding the Titanic, your mundane life started to get twisted with a handsome young artist who saved your life.

word count: 34.5k

genre: fluff, smut, angst, historical, titanic au!

warnings/tags: UNEDITED, misogynistic themes cus it’s 1912 what fun times, dark and obsessive themes, explicit language, SMOKING, cheating, A MESS, a lot and I mean a lot of bad puns and jokes throughout the stories I’m sorry, Jungkook is a fucking asshole, SMUT 

author’s note: LET ME JUST CLEAR SOMETHING UP HERE, English is not my first language so this is probably shit or something also this is my first ever long fic and smut omg. I followed the Titanic’s storyline, My summaries are also shit. I L O V E Taehyung’s RED HAIR SO :))) But I still hope you enjoy reading this mess of a story. keep in mind though, I’m a fucking asshole :)) THIS IS UNEDITED, so thank you for your patience haha! its 2 AM right now and I have my prelims later :) i haven’t reviewed :)) wish me luck 

The gleaming white superstructure of Titanic rises mountainous-ly beyond the rail, and above that, the ochreous-colored funnels stood against the sky like pillars of a great temple. Crewmen move across the deck, dwarfed by the sheer size of the steamer.

The streets were packed with crowds as the large ship was being ready to set sail for the first time today, April.10th,1912. People waved their handkerchief and said their goodbyes to loved ones and friends. The busy street was crowded with lower and middle-class citizens as the employees of the voyage checked their belongings and tickets. 

On the pier, horse-drawn vehicles, motorcars, and lorries move slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere is one of excitement and giddiness. People embraced in tearful farewells, or wave and shout bon voyage to friends and relatives on the decks above.

With sudden honks of the motorcars, the people looked and went out the way of the cars and carriages of the rich folks of the place. Their automobiles and carriages were adorned by expensive belongings and furnishings, their wealth being displayed for anyone to see.

“Coming through! Get out of the way!” The workers of the voyage shouted as they pushed the people away to give space to the large transportations. One by one, the rich folks have gone out their cars as employees greet them politely and with great care of words, contrasting to the way they treated the lower-class passengers. You went out of the car as the valet guided you out, your hair curled and neatly tied. You aura exudes elegance and beauty and your enigmatic (e/c) eyes shone in the light while your (s/c) skin glow beneath the sun.

“I don’t see what the fuss is all about. It doesn’t look any bigger than the Mauretania.” You stated, unimpressed while staring at the infamous Titanic.

Your large pale blue hat which was adorned by soft white feathers has hidden her face a bit. Your long silhouette pastel blue dress fits your body like a glove, showing your small waist. Red luscious lips curled into a small frown, sharp eyebrows furrowing a bit. 

A handsome young man wearing a slick expensive black suit soon followed, exiting the car. The man, Jeon Jungkook, the heir to the older Jeon’s fortune. He was arrogant and rich beyond belief. Good-looks to brag along with it. 

“You can be blase about some things, (Y/N), but not about Titanic. It’s over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisian cafe, and even Turkish baths.” Jungkook said. He then turned to the side and gave a helping hand to your mother, (M/N) (L/N), who descends from the very same car.

“Your daughter is much too hard to impress, (M/N)” Jungkook stated, helping the older woman.

“So this is the ship they say is unsinkable,” (M/N) said, staring at the large ship which was the talk of the world for almost a year.

“It is unsinkable. God himself couldn’t sink this ship.” Jungkook said with pride, looking at the ship as he was the host for the (L/N) in this voyage.  

You rolled your eyes when you heard your fiance’s words, your ‘indecent’ action hidden from them while you stared at the Titanic. 

This entire entourage of rich folks is impeccably turned out, a quintessential example of the Edwardian upper class, complete with servants. Jungkook’s manservant, Spicer Lovejoy, is a tall and impassive, dour as an undertaker. Behind him emerge, two maids, personal servants to you and your mother.

The maids went and took the luggage of their mistresses as Jungkook’s valet helped with it. Suddenly, an employee stopped them with a smile.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we have to inspect your luggage.” The old male said softly. Jungkook put his hand inside his coat and took out a five paper bill and gave it to him, patting him in the back. The porter’s eyes dilated at the sight of it.

“I put my faith in you, good sir.” He said, walking away from the porter with you and your mother and towards the Titanic. From behind, Jungkook’s manservant, Lovejoy, gave the employee a list.

“Here, three of the brown baggage is for room 12A and the others with black markings are for 15A. While the leather with a crest is for room 19A. Got it?” The stoic assistant said fastly making the employee confused but before he could ask about it, the former left him with the car. 

“My shawl?” You asked, looking behind you, your arm wrapped around Jungkook’s, gently. Your maid answered with a small smile, “I have it, Miss.” baggage in her arms 

With that, they got in the Titanic, looking around the furniture and design of the large ship. The three aristocrats then went to their own rooms while you, well the maid, unpacked your belongings and put it into the right place neatly. 

“Taehyung, I swear to God. If your cards are not good enough–” 

“It’ll be fine, Jiminie!” 

4 males sat at the table, in the middle, bills and coins from four countries were scattered. This has been going on for a while and sitting on top of the money are two 3rd class tickets for RMS Titanic 

“I can’t believe you bet our entire money on this, Taehyung!” Jimin scolded, grasping his brown hair as the stress got to him and even more when he saw his own cards. Taehyung grinned at him, his fiery red hair framing his handsome face. 

“There are two tickets for the Titanic! How can I not!” Taehyung exclaimed as the other two males in front of them argued in a different language.

Jimin sighed at his best friend’s actions, just hoping that he had a good hand of cards in him because he certainly did not. Taehyung took a card on the pile in front of him, looking at it with a small frown. They then heard the Titanic’s whistle blow, the final warning.

“This is it! The moment of truth boys. Somebody’s life’s about to change.” Taehyung said, looking at the 2 Swedish men.

The males showed their cards one by one, the highest one yet was a pair. Taehyung looked at Jimin who stared at him with expectancy. 

“I’m sorry, Jimin. It seems you won’t be seeing your Ma for a while.” 

The shorter male gaped and exclaimed at that, “What?! What do you mean?! Taehyung, you idiot-!” 

Taehyung then laughed and slammed his cards on the table as it showed a full house, “Because we’re going to America!” 

Jimin’s eyes widened and cheered when the reality finally sank in, hugging his best friend as he shouted the words, “We’re going to America!” 

The two men in front of them shouted in disbelief and annoyance at the outcome. Taehyung and Jimin celebrated their win, hugging each other. The two then looked back to the Swedish men and Taehyung said, “Sorry guys. Three of a kind and a pair. I’m high and you’re dry and…” 

“We’re going to America!” Jimin continued, smiling widely. Taehyung kissed the tickets, then jumped on Jimin’s back and rode him around the pub. It’s like they won the lottery. 

The bartender then cleared his throat, getting the attention of the two young males. “No, you won’t if you boys don’t hurry, cause Titanic will set sail in 5 minutes.” He said

“Shoot!” 

“Hurry! Hurry! Grab the money!” 

The two grabbed the money and were about to run for it when Taehyung’s collar was grabbed by the large male who he was playing with earlier. The latter raised his fisted hand as Taehyung braced himself for the impact but none came, however, a groan was heard from beside him. He opened his eyes and saw that the male punched his other Swedish friend in the stomach

Taehyung smiled sheepishly at the large male then they made a run for it, kit bags on their shoulders, carrying everything they own in the world, and sprinted toward the pier. They tear through milling crowds next to the terminal. Shouts going up behind them as they jostle through slow-moving gentlemen. They dodge piles of luggage and weave through groups of people. Finally, they burst out onto the pier and Taehyung comes to a dead stop staring at the cast walls of the ship’s hull, towering seven stories or greater above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long. The Titanic is monstrous, something Taehyung hasn’t seen before.

When Jimin noticed that Taehyung wasn’t following him, he ran back and grabbed him, as they sprinted towards the third class gangway aft, at E deck. They reach the bottom of the ramp just as the officer detaches it at the top. It starts to swing down from the gangway doors.

“Wait! We’re passengers!” Taehyung shouted, flushed and panting, he waved the tickets.

“Have you been in the inspection queue?” The snobbish employee asked

Taehyung nodded, catching his breath and pointed to his back where Jimin was, “Me and him just finished. We don’t have lice or any diseases” he replied, cheerfully. The officer looked at them, judging their rugged appearance and worn out bags and clothes. He then sighed and reluctantly took the ticket and reattached the gangway which gave way to them, inside. The two went aboard and stood, looking at the officer as he checked their tickets. The officer glanced at the tickets, then passed Taehyung and Jimin through to another worker. The latter looked at the names on the tickets to enter them on the passenger list. He raised a brow, “ Gundersen. And…  Gundersen..” 

The older male looked at them suspiciously while the two smiled at him, innocently, as he handed them their tickets back and gave them an ‘okay’.

Taehyung wrapped an arm around Jimin’s shoulder and they walked away, “Let’s go, Sven~” 

 The two raced inside, whooping in victory, running down the white-painted corridor of the ship while they grin from ear to ear. 

“We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!”

Taehyung and Jimin burst through a door onto the aft well deck, running across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They got to the rail and Taehyung started to yell and wave to the crowd on the dock like a madman making Jimin shake his head at his best friend’s antics, knowing full well that he doesn’t know anyone on the dock.

“Let’s go, you crazy man,” Jimin said, grabbing one of his lapels and dragged him away.

The two walk down a narrow corridor with doors lining both sides like a college dorm. Total confusion as people argue over luggage in several languages or wander in confusion in the labyrinth. They pass emigrants studying the signs over the doors and looking up the words in phrasebooks. The two males passed the people and finally saw the room they’re looking for, opening it as two other males were inside.

Jimin then raced and occupied the top bunk while Taehyung introduced himself to the two Swedish men. 

“Hello there, I’m Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you.” He shook one of the men’s hands and turned to Jimin who was laying on the top bunk already. 

“Who said you can be on the top bunk, you little-!” 

The two Swedish men looked at each other, confused as hell, as one asked, “Where’s Sven?” 

By contrast, the so-called “Millionaire Suite” is in the Empire style, and comprises two bedrooms, a bath, WC, wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. Also, there is a private 50-foot promenade deck outside.

A room service waiter pours champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and hands the Bucks Fizz to you while you look through your newly bought paintings. There’s a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works. They are all unknown paintings, lost works. 

You grabbed one of the paintings with a small and contemplating frown, currently occupied by your thoughts, debating on where you’ll put it. The maid smiled at you, her mistress, as she unpacks your clothes and folding it neatly.

“Will you be putting the paintings on the wall, Miss?” 

“Yes, this room needs more color,” You said, walking around the room and placed the painting on the wall.

Jungkook was out on the covered deck before entering through the doorway to your room, he then saw you in the sitting room. He frowned a bit when he saw the odd paintings on your couch and bed. 

“Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money.” He said, looking at it with a small scowl. 

“You’re wrong. They’re fascinating. Like in a dream… there’s truth without logic. What’s his name again…? Picasso” You replied, looking at the cubist’s paintings. 

“He’ll never amount to a thing, trust me, Sweetpea… Well, at least they were cheap.” Jungkook said, going towards you as you sat down in your vanity, feeling tired with Jungkook being in the same room as you. A porter then appeared, he wheels in Jungkook’s private safe into the room on a hand truck.

“Put that in the wardrobe.” He ordered and followed the porter towards the wardrobe, watching it be placed gently.

“The paintings smell so brand new. Like they built it all just for us. I mean… just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I’ll be the first–” Trudy, your maid said but was cut off when Jungkook entered the room again. 

“And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I’ll still be the first.” He said, looking at you with a sly glint in his eyes, a faint sign of smirk on his pink lips. Trudy blushed at the innuendo and quickly excused herself out of the room. 

Jungkook walked towards you and put his hands on your shoulders as he gripped it a bit, looking at you through the mirror. It was an act of possession, not affection.

He smiled, “First and only, forever.” 

The warm and soft smile on his face did not match the tight grip on your shoulders. You winced a little at that as you frowned at his words.

“I’ll be seeing you later then, Sweetpea.” Jungkook bid, ignoring your obvious wince, and with that, he went out of the room. The heavy atmosphere which you only felt, thickens. It was always like this, tense, making it hard to breathe but it was almost as if you’re the only one feeling it. Or maybe they also feel it, they just don’t want anything to do with it.

Taehyung and Jimin leaned far over the railings, looking down at the sea. In the glassy bow-wave, two dolphins appeared, under the water, swimming fast like the ship, just in front of the steel blade of the prow. They do it for the sheer joy and exultation of motion. Taehyung watched the dolphins and grinned. The breach, jumping clear of the water and then diving back, crisscrossing in front of the bow, dancing ahead of the juggernaut. Jimin grinned and looked up ahead as he pointed to the horizon.

“I can already see the Statue of Liberty, albeit small though.” He said cheekily as Taehyung chuckled. The latter climbed up the railings, letting go of the ropes and cheered loudly as possible, “I’m the king of the world!” 

“…and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up.” An old handsome man, Ismay, talked but you didn’t listen. The table was surrounded by people of your kind, rich people.

Ismay seated with Jungkook, you, (M/N), Molly Brown and Thomas Andrews in the Palm Court, a beautiful sunny spot enclosed by high arched windows.

“Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay’s. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is, willed into solid reality!” Andrews said, slapping the table, not used to the attention he was getting.

“Why are ships always being’ called “she”? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?” Molly asked as the table laughed at that except for you, who awkwardly smiled.

“Just another example of the men settin’ the rules their way.” She added. After a while, the waiter came to take orders. You took out your cigarette holder, bored and anxious, you lit it, inhaling the smoke. 

(M/N) glared at you and said, “You know, I don’t like that (Y/N).” 

Jungkook stopped mid-sip of his brandy and narrowed his eyes at you, who ignored them.

“She knows,” Jungkook said firmly, taking the cigarette away and putting it out quickly. You glared at your fiance who was now ignoring you, talking to the waiter on their side.

“We’ll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce.” He said, the waiter nodded and went back to give their order to the chef. Jungkook then finally turned to you and uttered out with a smile like nothing happened, “You like lamb, don’t you Sweetpea?” 

Molly, who was watching the dynamic between them smiled sarcastically at Jungkook who caught her gaze.

“You’re going to cut her meat for her too there, Kook?” and before he could answer, she swiftly turned to Ismay and asked a question.

“Hey, who came up with the name Titanic? You, Bruce?”

Ismay nodded, “Yes, actually. I wanted to convey the sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and strength–”

“Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay.” You commented while Andrews chuckled, trying to preoccupy his attention with the soup in front of him. 

“My God, (Y/N). What has gotten into–” (M/N) said but you stood up and excused yourself, stalking away.

(M/N) looked back to the embarrassed man with a horrified look on her face, “I’m terribly sorry for that.”

Molly smirked and looked at Jungkook, “She’s a piston, Kook. Sure you can handle her?” 

Jungkook smiled back at her, tense but he acted unconcerned, “Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on, Mrs. Brown.”

Taehyung sat at one of the benches in the deck, bathing in the warm glow of the sun, Titanic’s wake spreads out behind him to the horizon. He had his knees pulled up, supporting a leather-bound sketching pad, his only valuable possession which was filled with his pieces. With a Conte crayon, he draws rapidly, using sure strokes. 

A man has his 3-year-old daughter standing on the lower rung of the rail. She leaned back against his beer barrel of a stomach, watching the seagulls, as he explains how the propeller works. The sketch captures them perfectly, with a great sense of the humanity of the moment. Taehyung is good. Really good. Jimin looks over Taehyung’s shoulder. He nods appreciatively, smiling.

Yoongi, a scowling young man watching the crewmember coming by, walking three small dogs around the deck. One of them, a black french bulldog, and Yoongi thought that it was among the ugliest creatures on the planet.

“That’s typical. First-class dogs comin’ down here to take a shit.” He growled with a deep scowl. Taehyung looked up from his sketch and smiled sarcastically at him.

“That’s so we know where we rank in the scheme of things.” He said making the blond man looked at him, his scowl faltering a bit. 

Yoongi chuckled deeply from his chest at the poor reality, “As if we could forget.” 

Taehyung replied with his own chuckle and introduced himself to the man, “Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you”

The pale and shorter blond male grasped his hand in a firm hold and shook it gently, “Min Yoongi. Likewise.” 

Taehyung nodded with a smile, happy that he made a new friend. He then let his big brown eyes wander across the deck but he stopped. He stared at the beautiful young woman with softly curled (h/n) hair and a baby pink silhouette dress. Taehyung was unable to take his eyes off of the young woman, he continued his staring.

They were across from each other, about 60 feet apart, with the well-deck like a valley between them. You were on your promontory, he on his much lower one. You stared down at the water with an unreadable look on your face. Taehyung watched you unpin your elaborate hat and take it off. You looked at the frilly absurd thing, then tossed it over the rail as it sailed far down to the water and was carried away, astern, a spot of pink in the vast ocean. He was riveted by you. You looked like the main heroine in a romantic novel, sad and isolated. 

Jimin taps Yoongi on the shoulder as they both looked at Taehyung who was enamored and in awe at the sight of the young lady on the upper portion of the ship. They both grinned, shaking their heads at the young artist.

You turned suddenly and looks right at Taehyung. He was caught staring, but he didn’t look away though his heart was beating a bit too wildly. You did, though, looked away but looked back at him after a while, your eyes met across the space of the well-deck, across the gulf between two different worlds. 

Taehyung then saw a young man wearing a slick suit, complementing his looks, walking towards you, grasping your arm in his hand. You jerked away from him as you two argued in pantomime. The beautiful lady stalked away after a bit, leaving the man alone with himself for a second or so, looking agitated, but he goes after you, disappearing along the A-deck promenade. Taehyung stared after you, dazed.

Yoongi scoffed at the young man and said, “Forget it, boyo. You’d likely have angels fly out of your ass than getting next to the likes of her.” 

You looked into empty space as you sat on the round table, flanked by people in a heated conversation. Jungkook and (M/N) laughing together, while on the other side Lady Duff-Gordon was holding forth animatedly. You didn’t hear what they were saying, staring at your plate, barely listening to the inconsequential babble around you. Beneath the table, you held a tiny fork from your crab salad. Poking the fork into your skin, harder and harder every time, drawing blood. Mind in chaos, your emotions all over the place. 

After the party-dinner, you walked towards your room, smiling at the passing people politely. You were composed, nothing like what you were feeling inside. When you got to your room, you closed the door. Standing in the middle of the room, looking at your reflection. You stood there, just looking at yourself with hatred, self-hatred. And then–

A primal, anguished cry claws at your throat. You ripped off your pearl necklace, which explodes, the pearls flying across the room. In a frenzy, you tore at yourself, your clothes, your hair then attacked the room. You fling everything off the dresser as it flies, clattering against the wall with a loud sound. Hurling a hand mirror against the vanity, it cracked violently. You looked around the room, panting deeply, and glaring at the ruined room as it matches with your mind.

You ran out of the room, shoving the people away from you as tears rolled down your pretty face. You ran along the B deck promenade, disheveled, your hair flying and sticking out from the immaculate hairstyle you wore all evening. Your cheeks streaked with tears but you were also angry, furious even! Shaking with emotions you didn’t even understand… hatred, self-hatred, desperation. A strolling couple watched you pass them, shocked at the emotional display in public. 

On the deck, Taehyung lay on one of the benches gazing at the stars blazing gloriously above him an ethereal pattern for everyone to see as he thinks artist thoughts. He smoked a cigarette, blowing a small mist into the cold air, slowly disappearing after a while. 

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed when he heard footsteps nearing him, he sat up and looked around. You run up the stairs from the well-deck, you two were the only ones on the stern deck, except for Quartermaster Rowe, twenty feet above them on the docking bridge catwalk. You, though, didn’t see the red-headed male in the shadows and ran right past him.

You run across the deserted fantail, breath hitching in an occasional sob that escaped from your quivering lips, which you tried to suppress but to no avail. You slam against the base of the stern flagpole and cling there, panting. You stared down at the black water, voices whispering to you to do something, to end your misery.

The disheveled young woman started to climb over the railing, hitching your long heavy dress up and climbed clumsily, almost slipping. Moving carefully when you got out, you turn your body and getting your heels on the white-painted gunwale, your back facing the railings, facing out towards the darkness of the night. 60 feet below you, the massive propellers are churning them into white foam, and a ghostly wake trails off toward the horizon. 

You straightened your arms a bit, leaning forward to the empty air, looking down. Your dress and hair were lifted by the wind of the ship’s movements. The only sound you heard, above the rush of water below, was the flutter and snap of the big Union Jack right above you. 

“Don’t do it.” A deep and firm voice called out. You gasped and looked back, tears blocking your vision from seeing clearly.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” You shouted, more tears welling up. Taehyung saw the tear streaks on your cheeks in the faint glow of the lights and frowned slightly at the sight. 

“Take my hand, I’ll pull you back in.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at that and snapped back, “No! Stay where you are! I mean it! Or I’ll let go!” 

Taehyung stared at your desperate eyes, screaming for help. He shook his head.

“No, you won’t” 

The young (L/N) frowned, “What do you mean ‘no I won't’? Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don’t know me.”

Taehyung shook his head again, his red hair swaying a bit at the movement, “You would have done it already. Come on, take my hand.” 

You were confused, you couldn’t see him very well due to the tears and from the faint light. You were about to wipe your tears with one hand to see better but almost slipped so you went back to grasping the rail bars tightly, facing away from Taehyung.

“You’re distracting me, go away!” 

Taehyun smiled softly at her, “I can’t. I’m involved now. If you jump, I’ll jump in after you” 

You scoffed at the idea, “That’s absurd! You’ll kill yourself.” 

Taehyung shook his head, taking off his jacket, “Don’t worry, I’m a good swimmer.” After that, he starts undoing his boot’s shoelace.   

“The fall alone will kill you,” You jabbed

“It would hurt, I’m not saying it wouldn’t. To be honest I’m a lot more concerned about the water being so cold.” Taehyung replied making you look down to the dark waters, reality slowly sinking in. You looked back at him, a frown playing on your lips.

“How cold?” You stammered out, looking back at Taehyung 

“Freezing. Maybe a couple of degrees over.” He said, unlacing his other shoe after removing the other one.

“Ever been to Daegu?” the male asked

You gave the man an odd look, the normality of the question perplexed you as you shook your head, “No…”

“Well they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-fishing out on lake… ice-fishing is where you chop a hole in the–” 

“I know what ice-fishing is!” 

Taehyung smiled sheepishly at you, “Sorry. Just… you look like more of an indoor girl. Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I’m tellin’ ya, water is that cold… like that right down there… it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can’t breathe, you can’t think… least not about anything but the pain.”

He then sighed and continued, “Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in after you. But like I said, I don’t see a choice. I guess I’m kinda hoping you’ll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”

You stared at him with a confused and weirded-out look, “You’re crazy…”

“That’s what everybody says but with all due respect, Miss, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship here,” Taehyung replied. He then went closer to you slowly, testing the waters.

“Come on. You don’t want to do this. Give me your hand.” He said, offering his hand to the young woman. You stared at him as if he escaped from the madhouse but when you finally saw his eyes clearly, it seemed to fill your universe. There was pure warmth swimming within them, swallowing you whole that you almost forgot the cold air nipping on your skin.

“O-Okay…” You muttered, grabbing his hand gently. Taehyung held your hand firmly, feeling the soft cold skin on his.

“I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung”

You turned around with his help and with a quavering voice, you replied, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Kim” 

The male smiled at you while you started to step out, now that you have decided to live, the height absolutely terrified you. Overcome by vertigo as you shifted your footing, climbing up. As you start to climb out with the help of Taehyung, your dress got in your way and one foot slips off the edge of the deck, making you lose your footing.

You plunge down quickly, letting out a piercing shriek. Taehyung gasped at the sudden movement but quickly grasped your hand firmer than before, the sudden weight made him jerked toward the rail painfully. You barely grabbed the lower rail with your free hand, gasping as your heartbeat wildly inside your ribcage. Looking at the male, your frightened look made Taehyung gripped you tightly.

“Help! PLEASE!”

The Quartermaster Rowe, up on the docking bridge heard the scream and headed for the ladder, alarmed.  

Taehyung bit his lips, his arms straining at the pull of gravity on you two. He let out a tired, “I got you. Don’t worry. I got you…” 

Taehyung holds your hand with all his strength, bracing himself on the railing with his other hand. While the man held you, you tried to get some kind of foothold on the smooth hull. Taehyung tries to lift your body over the railing as he felt his arms getting tired. You couldn’t get any footing in your dress and evening shoes, and you slipped a little from Taehyung’s grip making you scream, scared to death at the feeling of no solid ground beneath your feet. 

The young male awkwardly clutched you by whatever he can get a grip on as you flail, gravity pulling you down. Miraculously, he finally gets you over the railing. You two fell together onto the deck in a tangled heap, spinning in such a way that Taehyung winds up slightly on top of you as your breaths ragged because of the terrifying moment.

The Quartermaster Rowe got down to the deck and ran to the fantail then saw the tangled couple on the deck floor.

“Hey, what’s all this?!” 

The Rowe ran towards you two and pulled Taehyung away from you, his eyes widening when he saw you, a disheveled and crying aristocrat. Your dress was torn from all the kicking, and the hem was pushing up above your knees, showing one ripped stocking. He looks at Taehyung, a shaggy steerage man with his jacket off, and the first-class lady clearly in distress, and started to draw conclusions. Two seamen chug across the deck to join them. 

The Rowe glared at Taehyung and said, “You! Stand back! Don’t move an inch!” then looked at the two seamen and quickly ordered them

“You two! Fetch the Master at Arms” which the two men quickly did and ran back. Taehyung gaped at the Rowe and shook his head, “N-No! It’s not what it looks like!” 

“Shut up, vermin!” 

A few minutes later. Taehyung was being detained by the burly Master at Arms the closest thing to a cop on board the ship. He was handcuffing Taehyung while Jungkook was right in front of Taehyung, and he was furious. He has obviously just rushed out here with Lovejoy and another man, his friend and business partner, Jung Hoseok and none of them have coats over their black-tie evening dress. Hoseok, a businessman Jungkook was talking to earlier, a handsome man who still has his brandy snifter offered it to you, who was hunched over crying on a nearby bench, but you waved it away. Jungkook was more concerned with Taehyung, he grabbed him by the lapels, glowering at him. 

Jungkook was absolutely furious! How dare this peasant touch his fiance! You were only his to touch, who does this rat think he is! The nerve of this poor man touching another man’s property, he should have his head on a plate for what he did!

“What made you think you could put your hands on my fiance?!” Taehyung ignored the male, observing you in the corners of his eyes. Jungkook noticed this and scowled at Taehyung.

“Look at me, you filth! What did you think you were doing?!” The young aristocrat shouted at Taehyung, his grip tightening on his lapels. The redheaded male pursed his lips in anger, trying to control his emotions, locking eyes with the glaring aristocrat

You frowned at that, exhausted. You stood up and moved closer to the two, trying to tug away Jungkook’s tight grip on Taehyung’s straps.

“Kook, stop! It was an accident!” 

Jungkook turned to you and laughed sarcastically, “Accident? Really? That’s the stupidest thing I heard-!” 

You bit your lip, your ears burning in embarrassment to what you will say next, “It is stupid but it’s true! I was leaning over and… I slipped” 

The young woman made eye contact with Taehyung for a second before looking back at Jungkook. 

“I was leaning way over, to see the… ah… propellers. And I slipped and I would have gone overboard… and Mr. Kim here saved me and he almost went over himself.” You explained making Jungkook loosen his grip on Taehyung’s lapels. The young aristocrat looked at you in disbelief.

“T-The propellers? You wanted to see the propellers?”

The Hoseok sighed at (Y/N)’s words, “Women and machinery do not mix well.” 

The Master of Arms looked at Taehyung with an untrusting look on his face still, “Is that the way it is?” 

Taehyung glanced at you, your eyes begging to not tell them what really happened earlier and nodded without hesitation, turning to the man. 

“Uh-huh. that was pretty much it.” 

Taehyung then looked back at you, eyes looking a bit longer, taking your features in. Now you two have a secret together.

The Hoseok smiled a bit and patted Taehyung’s back, “Well! The boy’s a hero then. Good for you son, well done!” He then turned to Jungkook who was staring at Taehyung with a hint of a small scowl on his handsome face. 

“So it’s all’s well and back to our brandy, eh?” He added and Jungkook nodded a bit. Taehyung then was uncuffed by the Master of Arms while Jungkook held you in his arms, feeling your cold skin with his hands. 

“Let’s get you in. You’re freezing.“ He muttered to you, leading you away and leaving without a second thought for Taehyung. Jung Hoseok looked back to Taehyung and called out to Jungkook, “Maybe something for the boy.”

Jungkook and you not getting too far away when the former heard what Hoseok said, he looked at Taehyung then to his personal servant, Lovejoy.

“Oh, right. Mr. Lovejoy, a twenty should do it.”

You frowned softly at him and said, “Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?” 

Jungkook raised a brow at that, looking at his fiance’s tired but still beautiful face. He stared deep into your eyes and pursed his lips a bit. 

“(Y/N) is displeased. What to do…”  Jungkook tutted and turned back to Taehyung. He appraises him condescendingly, a steerage ruffian, unwashed and ill-mannered. Born and destined die as a waste, nothing worthwhile.

“I know” He muses and smiled tightly at Taehyung. “Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?” Jungkook added.

Taehyung was about to decline but then his eyes turned to (Y/N) and agreed without thinking. 

“Sure. Count me in.”

Jungkook nodded, “Good. That’s settled then” Kook turned to go, putting a protective arm around you, walking away with Hoseok following and the other workers going back to their posts, leaving Taehyung and Lovejoy.

Taehyung turned to the manservant who was about to follow his master, “Can I bum a cigarette?”

Lovejoy smoothly draws a silver cigarette case from his jacket and snapped it open. Taehyung took a cigarette, then another, popping it behind his ear for later. Lovejoy lights Taehyung’s cigarette with an indifferent look. Jungkook’s manservant let his eyes trail the male and locked with his unlaced boots.

“You’ll want to tie those.” Taehyung followed where Lovejoy was looking and stared at his unlaced boots.

“Interesting that the young lady slipped so mighty all of a sudden and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes. Mmmm?” Lovejoy retorted as his expression was bland, but eyes, cold. He turned away to join his master. Taehyung sighed, arching his neck and holding it with one hand while blowing a cloud of smoke out, tired.

You sat in your vanity, looking at yourself and changed clothes for bed. In the corner of the mirror cracked, you saw Jungkook enter the room. The male looked at the disarrayed room with a frown. Your fiance slowly walked towards you. 

“I know you’ve been melancholy, and I don’t pretend to know why,” Jungkook whispered, unexpectedly tender. From behind his back, he handed you a large black velvet jewel case, you took it, numbly.

“I intended to save this until the engagement next week. But I thought tonight, perhaps a reminder of my feelings for you…”

You slowly opened the box, your eyes widened at the sight of the necklace inside, in all its glory. It was huge, a malevolent blue stone glittering with an infinity of scalpel-like inner reflections. 

“My God… Jungkook. Is it a–” 

Jungkook smiled at your reaction, happy with it, and nodded. “Yes, it is a diamond. 56 carats.”

He takes the necklace and places it around your throat. He turns you to the mirror, staring from behind you. 

“It was once worn by Louis XVI. They call it Le Coeur de la Mer, the–”

“Heart of the Ocean… Jungkook, it-it’s overwhelming.”

Jungkook stared at your reflection in the mirror, admiring the way the necklace complimented your soft (s/c) skin.

“It is for royalty. and we are royalty, (Y/N)” His fingers caressed your neck and throat. He seems to be disarmed by your elegance and beauty. His emotions, for the first time, unguarded. The wall he built for years crumbling in your presence. 

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t and couldn’t give you. There’s nothing I’d deny you in this world. Just open your heart to me, (Y/N).”

You looked at yourself, the necklace heavy on your neck. In your eyes, it was not a necklace but a dog collar. Something that will bind you more to Jungkook. A collar that proves his ownership of you.

As the next morning came, you walked into the sunlight right in front of the deck. You were stunningly dressed and walked with purpose. You carried yourself with dignity and elegance. You unlatched the gate to go down into the third class. The steerage men on the deck stopped what they were doing and stared at you, confused and in awe of your beauty.

The social center of steerage life was stark by comparison to the opulence of the first-class, it was a loud, boisterous place. There are mothers with babies, kids running between the benches, yelling in several languages and being scolded in several more. There are also old women yelling, men playing chess, girls doing needlepoint and reading dime novels. There was even an upright piano and Yoongi was playing around it.

Three boys were shrieking and shouting, scrambling around to chase a rat under the benches, trying to whomp it with a shoe and causing general havoc. Taehyung was playing with a 5-year-old girl, drawing funny faces together in his sketchbook. Jimin on the other side was struggling to get a conversation going with an attractive Norwegian girl sitting with her family at a table across the room.

“English? Maybe Korean?” 

The Norwegian shook her head and said with a heavy accent, “No, no. Norwegian. Only.“

The woman’s eyes caught something in the room, looking at it with surprise. Jimin followed where she was looking and did a double-take. Taehyung who saw Jimin’s expression also followed, curious, and saw you, coming toward them. The activity in the room stops, a hush falls. 

You suddenly felt self-conscious as the steerage passengers stared openly at this princess, some with resentment, others with awe. You spot Taehyung and gave a little smile, walking straight to him. He rises from his seat to meet you, smiling. 

“Hello Taehyung” 

Jimin and Yoongi were floored. It’s like the moment when the slipper fits Cinderella. The two did not believe that this princess was here in the third-class deck and talking to Taehyung.

“Hello again” Taehyung soothed. You then looked around, the people never removing their eyes on you. You smiled sheepishly and turned back to look at him.

“Could I speak to you in private?”

Taehyung tilted his head, confused, but nonetheless nodded, “Of course. After you.”

He motions you ahead and follows. Taehyung glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, meeting the eyes of his friends as he walks out with you leaving a stunned silence behind.

Taehyung and you walked side by side in the A-deck. Passing people reading and talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glanced curiously at the mismatched couple. He feels out of place in his rough clothes. They are both awkward, for different reasons. 

“So um. You got a name?” 

You looked at him and nodded. “(Y/N) (m/n) (L/N)” 

Taehyung stared at you, joking a bit, he said “That’s quite a mouthful. Gotta write that down later.” 

You, though, did not laugh nor looked amused, looking nervous. The air was filled with an awkward silence. 

“Mr.Kim–” You started but Taehyung cut you off

“Taehyung” He corrected 

“Taehyung… I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you.”

The male smiled at you, trying to ease some tense air around them, “But here you are.” 

“Here I am. I… I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for… for pulling me back. But for your discretion.” You recalled as you two walked through the open hall.

“You’re welcome, (Y/N)”

You sighed, frustrated. “Look, I know what you must be thinking. Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?“ 

Taehyung stopped walking and looked at you with furrowed brows making you stop too. 

“That’s not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was… what could have happened to hurt this girl so much she thought she had no way out.“

You bit your lips at his reply, trying to blink tears away, and turned around. “I don’t… it wasn’t just one thing. It was everything. It was them, it was their whole world. And I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber.” You walked away making Taehyung follow. 

“I just had to get away… just run and run and run… and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship… even the Titanic wasn’t big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I’d really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. I’ll show them. They’ll be sorry!”

Taehyung sighed at your words, “Uh-huh. They’ll be sorry. You’ll be dead”

You stopped and lowered your head. Eyes tearing up, trying to suppress it. 

“Oh God, I am such an utter fool.” You lamented, Taehyung going up beside you. 

“That penguin last night, is he one of them?” The red-head asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. It was then your turn to furrowed your brows, looking at the male who was waiting for your answer.  

“Penguin? Oh, Jungkook. Yes, he is one of them.” 

Taehyung hummed, “Is he your boyfriend?“ 

You chuckled humorlessly, “I’m afraid it is something worse.” and showed Taehyung your engagement ring, the sizable diamond shining in the light. The male whistled lowly at the sight of it. 

“God, look at the size of that thing! You would’ve gone straight to the bottom.” He let out but you did not laugh, still in your thoughts. A passing steward scowls at Taehyung, who is clearly not a first-class passenger, but you just glared at him and he walked away.

“So you feel like you’re stuck on a train you can’t get off ‘cause you’re marryin’ this fella.“ Taehyung stated, after clearing his throat when the awkward silence won’t disappear, which you agreed to. 

“Yes, exactly!” 

“Then don’t marry him.” 

You sighed at Taehyung’s blunt answer and shook your head. 

“If only it were that simple.” You let out

The male replied with a, “It is that simple.”

 The young lady looked at Taehyung and frowned at him then looked down to the floor. 

“Do you love him?” He asked another question making the lady glared at him

“That’s rude. You shouldn’t even be asking me this. Do not judge me. You haven’t seen my world.” 

He raised a brow at that and muttered, “Why can’t you just answer the question?” You laughed nervously and fakely as you tried to get away from the male who followed you. 

You then looked back at him and said, “This is absurd! You don’t know me and I don’t know you and we are not having this conversation at all.”

“You are rude and uncouth, and presumptuous. And I am leaving now.” You added, anger and embarrassment filling you.

Taehyung stared at the rumbling woman in front of him with amusement, a teasing smile on his face as he got the answer to his question. 

“Taehyung… Mr.Kim. It has been a pleasure.” You bid, emphasizing on Mr.Kim and shook his hand. 

“I sought you out to thank you now I have thanked you–” 

“And you’ve insulted me.” Taehyung cut off, with an amused look. You smiled tensely and replied, “Well you deserved it.” 

“Right” Taehyung mused out

“Right.” You repeated with furrowed brows. Your hands still connected and shaking. Taehyung looked down at their moving hands with a small smile and looked up back again.

“I thought you were leaving?”

You realized and removed your hand away from him, clearing your throat, turning back around to walk away.

“I am.” With a tight smile still on your face, annoyed.

You turned around to face Taehyung, stopping on your tracks to go back to him, and said, “You are so annoying.” 

Taehyung chuckled at your words as you started to walk away again. You then realized something and looked at Taehyung who was just standing there, watching you pace around with an amused smile as his hands were in his pockets.

“Wait.” You said a frown present on your beautiful face. You walked closer to him.

“I don’t have to leave. This is my part of the ship. You leave.” You argued, pointing to the other side as you faced Taehyung who looked down at you, smile still intact.

Taehyung laughed sarcastically at you and leaned against the rope beside him, “Oho-ho-ho! Well, well, well. Now who’s being rude”

You opened your mouth to retort, shocked at the male’s words. You chuckled out in disbelief. The topic annoying you, wanting to change it immediately. The brown leather sketchbook caught your eye and you took it from him.

“What’s this stupid thing you’re carrying around anyway?” You asked, agitated making Taehyung look at his sketchbook and shrugged. 

You flipped through the pages and paused, looking up to Taehyung who stared down at you, the height difference between you two showing.

“What are you? An artist or something?” You asked, flipping through more of the pages and walked to the benches.

“Well… These are rather good…” You commented with a softening voice, admiring his works. Taehyung followed and sat next to you, watching you while you scanned through the pages. 

“They’re very good actually…” You added. Taehyung’s sketches were each one an expressive little bit of humanity: an old woman’s hands, a sleeping man, a father, and daughter at the rail. The faces are luminous and alive. His book was a celebration of the human condition. 

The young lady looked back up at Taehyung and said, “Taehyung, these are exquisite works” with awe in your voice

“Well, they didn’t think too much of 'em in Paree,” Taehyung replied, a small smile in his pink lips. 

“Paris? Huh, you do go around for a poor–” You stopped your words, looking at Taehyung with shame on your face. 

“I mean… For a person with limited means–” 

Taehyung chuckled at your words, “It’s okay, you can say it. A poor guy.” 

You didn’t reply, ashamed of yourself though Taehyung seemed to not mind it one bit. You flipped through the pages of his sketchbook when…

“Well well” 

You came upon a series of nudes. You transfixed by the languid beauty he has created. His drawings of these naked women were soulful, real, with expressive hands and eyes. They feel more like portraits than studies of the human form almost uncomfortably intimate. You blushed, raising the book as some strollers go by, hiding it from their view. 

You cleared your throat, “And these were drawn from life?“ 

Taehyung nodded, amused at the young lady’s reaction. 

“Yup. That’s one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls are willing to take their clothes off.“ 

You didn’t reply to his words but continued to flip on the pages of the sketchbook. 

“You liked this woman. You used her several times.” 

Now it was Taehyung’s turn to turn bashful, stumbling on his words at first as he tried to explain it to the young aristocrat

 “N-Nothing like that. You see, she has beautiful hands.” Taehyung said, pointing to the drawing of her hands to emphasize his point. The lady just hummed in response, teasing the young artist.

“I think you must have had a love affair with her…“ You teased, smiling at him cheekily. Taehyung laughed at that, shaking his head at the sudden playfulness of the young lady.

“No, no! Just her hands.“ 

(Y/N) looked down at the drawings as Taehyung explained further, “She was a one-legged prostitute, you see” 

He flipped to another page as you ‘ugh’-ed ghastly at the image, Taehyung laughing at your reaction. 

“Oh…”

“She has a good sense of humor, though” He added. Then he seemed to remember something and turned the page once again, “Oh and this lady”

“She used to sit at this bar every night with every piece of jewelry she owned, just waiting for her long lost love” Taehyung explained as you looked at the drawing of a ragged woman with fancy jewelry on her clothes and skin. 

“Called her Madame Bijou,” He said making the (h/c) haired lady look at him. 

“Look how her clothes are all moth-eaten” the artist added. You chuckled at that. Taehyung was quiet for a bit, admiring the woman beside him as you admire his drawings and with a whisper, you uttered out, 

“You really do have a gift Taehyung. You can see people.” 

You looked at him with a small smile. Taehyung gazed at you in return, a smile on his lips.

“I see you” 

That stare his eyes magnetic and pulled you in without warning. Your eyes, though, turned coy and rivaled his magnetic stare with your own.

 You smirked a bit and asked, “And?” 

Taehyung stared at you with a serious look, “You wouldn’t have jumped”

Your smirk fell at his words, your face turning sour as thoughts rapidly run into your mind.

You and Taehyung strolled down the aft, passing people who were relaxing on the deck chairs, bathing in the soft glow of the sunset.

“You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist… Living in a garret, poor but free” The young lady muttered with a soft voice, a wistful smile on your pink lips.

“You wouldn’t last two days. There’s no hot water, and hardly ever any caviar” Taehyung teased, a smirk appearing, but you got angry, spinning around to face the male.

“Listen here, buster. I hate my caviar! And I’m sick and tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head” You said out with a small glare.

Taehyung’s eyes widened at that, not meaning to upset you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You softened your glare when you saw Taehyung’s face and nodded, “Well, alright. I don’t know what it is but there’s something in me, Taehyung. Whether I should be an artist, or, I don’t know…. a dancer. Like Isadora Duncan…. a wild pagan spirit…” You trailed off, looking at the beautiful sunset. It was a magical moment, the glow making you look more ethereal than ever as Taehyung gazed upon you with a soft look.

“Why can’t I be like you, Taehyung? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it.” You smiled, looking shortly to the male to smile at him before going back to admire the setting sun.

“Well it wasn’t easy at first but you’ll get used to it and it was beautiful. There was this pier and I always sell my artworks there for 10 cents apiece.” Taehyung replied, breaking his daze, now looking at the sun. You looked back at him, a smile on your face as dimples appeared on your cheeks ever so softly. 

“Say we’ll go to that pier. Even if we only ever talked about it.” You said with a grin and Taehyung thought for a moment, a soft smile on his face

“No, we’ll do it. We’ll drink cheap beer. We’ll ride on a rollercoaster till we throw up” Taehyung listed down, You giggled at his ideas.

“And we’ll ride horses on the beach, right on the surf. But we have to ride it like a real cowboy. None of that sidesaddle stuff!” He added making you look at him in disbelief as big and bright smiles rest on both of your faces. 

“You mean, one leg on each side?” You asked in astonishment. Taehyung nodded with a laugh.

“Can you show me?” You asked with a bashful smile.

Taehyung nodded easily, returning your shy grin, “Sure… If you like.” 

You then have this determined look on your face as you exclaimed, “Teach me how to ride like a man!” 

The male couldn’t help but laugh, “And chew tobacco like a man,” He said with this adorable western cowboy accent you ever heard. You giggled, adding, “And spit like a man!” Copying his accent

“They didn’t teach you that in finishing school?” Taehyung asked sarcastically with a teasing quirk of his dark eyebrow.

You laughed at his words, “No”

He smirked and grabbed you, pulling you with him.

“Come on, I’ll show you!”

Your eyes widened in fear and thrill while he pulled you along the side, walking to the railing.

“What?! Taehyung, no!”

“Come on!”

“Taehyung–!”

“It’s easy!”

“I couldn’t possibly–”

Taehyung looked at you and smirked, “Watch closely” and spit, it arched over the water. You were impressed, disgusted, but also wanted to laugh so badly when Taehyung looked back at you with the cutest smile as if he did not just spit on the water

“That’s disgusting!” You exclaimed but your smile did not waver

“Alright, your turn!” He chirped a boxy grin still intact on his face.

You looked around to see if anyone was watching then turned to the railing and spit, quite pathetically.

“That’s pitiful! Come on, you really have to hawk it back. Get some leverage to it!” Taehyung instructed, facing forward as he demonstrates it with you following his actions

You hawk and spat, a little arch going at it as it fell in the water. Taehyung nodded, “Well that’s better but you really have to hawk it out” 

“Really? That’s better?”

Taehyung nodded, a smile on his face when he heard your hopeful voice. You turned to him, your face alight but suddenly you blanch. He saw your expression and turned around. (M/n), a Countess and Molly Brown has been watching you two hawk out spit to the water. You became composed, instantly, looking at your mother and stepping away from Taehyung a bit, smiling to the women.

“Mother… May I introduce, Kim Taehyung”

An awkward and tense silence filled the air while (M/N) studied Taehyung with a disgusted look on her aged face.

“Charmed, I’m sure” (M/n) replied after a while still looking at Taehyung. Taehyung has a little spit on his chin which he quickly wiped off, Molly grinned at him. (M/n) did not look amused and looked at him as if he was a bug, a dangerous one that should be squashed immediately. 

“Well, Taehyung, it sounds like you’re a good man to have around in a sticky spot–” Molly said but was cut off by the bell of their meal call.

“Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?” She added making you smile a bit tightly.

“Shall we go get dressed, Mother?” You asked your mother then you turned to Taehyung, “I’ll see you later, Taehyung”

They walked away to the other side, Taehyung heard (M/N) scold her daughter “(Y/N), look at you! Out in the sun with no hat! Honestly!” 

The Countess exits with (M/N) and you leaving Taehyung and Molly on the deck. Molly looked at Taehyung and said, “Son, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you’re doing?” 

Taehyung looked at the older woman after he finished gazing at your fleeting back, “Not really” he said, cheekily. A smile, still prominent on his handsome face.

“Well, you’re about to go into the snakepit, I hope you’re ready. What are you planning to wear?” Molly asked as Taehyung looked down to his clothes then back at her, his smile faltering. 

“I figured. Come on” Molly sighed out as she grabbed his arm and dragged him away

Men’s suits and jackets and formal wear are strewn all over the place. Molly, having a fine time. Taehyung was dressed, except for his jacket, and Molly was tying his bow tie.

“Don’t feel bad about it. My husband still can’t tie one of these damn things after 20 years… There you go.” 

She picks up a jacket off the bed and hands it to him. Taehyung put on the jacket with Molly’s help, “I was right! You and my son are just about the same size” She said, smiling at Taehyung who returned it gratefully, looking at himself in the mirror. 

“Very nice~,” He said, admiring the entirely different man in the mirror. He turned to Molly and smiled at her, gratefully. 

“Thank you, Miss Molly” Taehyung uttered

Drifting strains of classical music were heard even from a couple feet away from the main entrance. By Edwardian standards, Taehyung looks stunningly beautiful and blended in with the stuck-up crowd. Dashing in his borrowed white-tie outfit, right down to his pearl studs.

A steward bows and smartly opened the door to the First Class Entrance, “Good evening, sir.” 

Taehyung played the role smoothly, nodding at the steward with just the right degree of disdain. 

The handsome, newly well-dressed male steps in and his breath were taken away by the splendor spread out before him. Overhead is the enormous glass dome, with a crystal chandelier at its center, glowing a beautiful golden light. Sweeping down six stories is the First Class Grand Staircase, the epitome of the opulent naval architecture of the time.

And the people, the women in their floor-length dresses, elaborate hairstyles, and abundant jewelry and the gentlemen in evening dress, standing beside their women with one hand at the small of the back, talking quietly.

Taehyung descends to the A-deck, several men nodded a perfunctory greeting. He nods back, keeping it simple. He felt like a spy, on an important mission, to save his lady from the villain.

Jungkook comes down the stairs, with (M/N) on his arm, the two covered with expensive jewelry. They both walk right past Taehyung, neither one recognizing him. Jungkook nodded at him, one gent to another, but Taehyung barely had time to be amused. Because just behind Jungkook and (M/N) on the stairs was you, a vision in red and black, your low-cut dress showing off your neck, that was adorned by a shiny necklace, and shoulders, your arms sheathed in white gloves that come well above the elbow. Taehyung was hypnotized by your beauty, stealing a breath from him.

You saw Taehyung, his usual messy red hair was slicked back as it showed his handsome face. You smiled at the man, walking towards him, one hand hitching your dress a bit. He imitates the gentlemen’s stance, hand behind his back and stretched out the other to you. You extended your gloved hand and he takes it, kissing the back of your hand. You were flushed, beaming noticeably. You can’t take your eyes off him. Your heart beating strangely faster with him.

“I always wanted to do that since I was just a lad” Taehyung informed, a bright boxy grin on his lips. You returned the smile, just as bright, giggling a bit

You cleared your throat a bit, remembering something, “Kook, surely you remember Mr. Kim” 

Jungkook looked back at (Y/N) then at Taehyung, caught off guard at the male’s different appearance, looking more of a human being than a dirty rat on the streets, the young aristocrat thought.

“Kim! I did not recognize you.” 

Jungkook studied him and nodded condescending, “Amazing, you could almost pass as a gentleman.” 

(M/N) stared at the man, still with an unimpressed look as she and Jungkook walked away with (Y/N) and Taehyung following. They walked towards the reception room at the D-deck as the party descends to dinner. They encountered Molly Brown, looking good in a beaded dress, in her own busty broad-shouldered way. 

Molly grinned when she sees Taehyung as they are going into the dining saloon, she walks next to him, speaking low: “ Ain’t nothin’ to it, is there, Taehyung?”

He nodded, “Yeah, you just dress like a pallbearer and keep your nose up.“

The older woman chuckled at the truth of it and said, “Remember, the only thing they respect is money, so just act like you’ve got a lot of it and you’re in the club.”

As they enter the swirling throng, Molly left them for a while and socialized with the other who came up to talk. (Y/N) leans close to him, pointing out several notables.

“There’s the Countess Rothes. And that’s Jung Hoseok… the richest man on the ship. His little wifey there, Madeleine, is at my age and in a delicate condition. See how she’s trying to hide it. Quite the scandal, ain’t it.” You whispered to Taehyung who listened in amusement at your words.

You nodded to another couple and began again, “And over there, that’s Sir Cosmo and Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals.” 

Jungkook becomes engrossed in a conversation with Kim Seokjin and Colonel Kim Namjoon, while (M/N), the Countess and Lucille, Seokjin’s wife, discussed fashion. (Y/N) picots Taehyung smoothly, to show him another couple, dressed impeccably.

“And that’s Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course.” You told Taehyung everything you know because, in your life, that’s a habit rich people like to do, ruining and gossiping about others.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Jungkook was accepting the praise of his male counterparts, who were looking at you like a prize show horse, nodding and gazing up and down at you.

“Jeon, she is splendid.” 

 Jungkook nodded, liking the fact that these men know who you belong to but hate that they were staring at his wife fiance, “Thank you.”

Namjoon then commented, “Jungkook’s a lucky man. I know him well, and it can only be luck.” 

(M/N) stepped over, hearing the last. She takes Jungkook’s arm, somewhat coquettishly and said, “How can you say that Colonel? Jeon Jungkook is a great catch.”

The entourage strolled towards the dining saloon, where they ran into Jung Hoseok going through the ornate double doors.

“Mr. Jung, Madeleine, I’d like you to meet Kim Taehyung.” (Y/N) introduced, Hoseok grabbing his hand, shaking it with a smile while his wife nodded at them.

“Nice to meet you, Taehyung. Are you one of the Kims of Seoul?” He asked, remembering his partners, Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon.

“No, the Daegu Kims, actually,” Taehyung replied.

Hoseok nodded as if he had ever heard about it then continued to look puzzled. Madeleine leaned closer to you and whispered girlishly with a coy smile, “It’s a pity that we’re both spoken for isn’t it.” then turned to smile at Taehyung, straightening up. 

Like a ballroom at the palace, alive and lit by a constellation of chandeliers, full of elegantly dressed people and beautiful music from the small orchestra. As you and Taehyung entered and moved across the room to their table, Jungkook and (M/N) beside you. They sat down at the large table filled with rich people. 

“Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Kim. I hear they’re quite good on this ship.” (M/N) said, looking at him from her place.

Taehyung was seated opposite to you, who is flanked by Jungkook and Thomas Andrews. Also at the table are Molly Brown, Ismay, Colonel Namjoon, the Countess, Kim Seokjin, Madame Aubert, and the Jungs. 

“The best I’ve seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats.” Taehyung replied, making the table laugh. You then motion surreptitiously for Taehyung to take his napkin off his plate.

“Mr. Kim here is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my fiance last night.” Jungkook informed the people at their table. He then looked at Taehyung and said to him, as if talking to a child, “This is foie gras. It’s goose liver.” 

Whispers were heard around the table, Taehyung becoming the subject of furtive glances. Now they’re all feeling terribly liberal and dangerous.

Seokjin leaned to Madame Aubert to whisper in her ear, “What is Jeon hoping to prove, bringing this… bohemian… up here?” 

The waiter then came over to Taehyung, “How do you take your caviar, sir?“

Jungkook intervened, “Just a soupcon of lemon… it improves the flavor with champagne.” smiling arrogantly at him

Taehyung smiled back then turned to the waiter, “No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it anyway.” looking at you who smiled at him, knowingly. Jungkook noticed Taehyung looking at his fiance and with a furrowed brows watched you smile at your lap, with confusion and anger as he gripped his fork. 

“And where exactly do you live, Mr. Kim?” (M/N) asked

Taehyung looked at her and said, “Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I’m on God’s good humor.” 

The salad was then served, Taehyung reached for the fish fork. You gave him a look and picked up the salad fork, prompting him with your eyes. He changes forks.

“You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?” The older (L/N) asked

“Well… it’s a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was always talkin’ about goin’ to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in and never did see it. You can’t wait around, because you never know what hand you’re going to get dealt next. See, my folks died in a fire when I was fifteen, and I’ve been on the road since. Somethin’ like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count.” Taehyung said, you gazed at him with a look, eyes softening. 

Molly Brown raises her glass in a salute, “Very well said, Taehyung”

Colonel Kim Namjoon raised his glass, “Here here” and (Y/N) followed, looking at Taehyung

“To making it count.” You said with a smile. 

(M/N), annoyed that Taehyung has scored a point, pressed him further.

 “How is it you have the means to travel, Mr. Kim?”

“I work my way from place to place. Tramp steamers and such. I won my ticket on Titanic here in a lucky hand at poker. “ He trailed as he looks at you with enigmatic eyes

“A very lucky hand” He added

Namjoon nodded, agreeing with Taehyung and said, “All life is a game of luck.”

Jungkook looked at his friend with a stern look, “A real man makes his own luck.”

Namjoon shaking his head at his long time friend but nonetheless continued to talk to Taehyung.

Dessert has been served and a waiter arrives with cigars in a humidor on a wheeled cart. The men start clipping the ends and lighting it. 

“Nest it’ll be brandies in the Smoking Room.” (Y/N) said lowly to Taehyung as Namjoon stood up 

“Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?” He invites 

(Y/N) then added, “Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe.”

Taehyung stifled a smile at you and straightened up when he heard Namjoon call him. 

“Joining us, Taehyung? You don’t want to stay out here with the women, do you?” 

Taehyung actually does, but…

“No thanks. I’m heading back.”

Jungkook stared him down and nodded, “Probably best. It’ll be all business and politics, that sort of thing. Wouldn’t interest you. Good of you to come.” with that, the gentlemen exited. 

(Y/N) looked at Taehyung who stood up, brushing his suit, “Must you go?”

 Taehyung smiled at you, holding your hand as he slipped a paper on your hand sneakily. 

“It’s time for my carriage to turn back into a pumpkin.” 

(M/N), scowling, watched him walk away across the enormous room. (Y/N) surreptitiously opened the note below table level. It reads: “Make it count. Meet me at the clock”. 

You smiled and quickly hid the paper, waiting a bit before following Taehyung, excusing yourself. 

You crossed the A-Deck foyer, sighting Taehyung at the landing above. Overhead is the crystal dome, he had his back to you, studying the ornate clock with its carved figures of Honor and Glory. It softly strikes the hour.

The (h/c) haired lady goes up the sweeping staircase towards him. He turns and sees you, he smiled.

“Want to go to a real party?” 

The crowd was led and alive with music, laughter and raucous carrying on. An ad hoc band is gathered near the upright piano, honking out lively stomping music on fiddle, accordion, and tambourine. People of all ages are dancing, drinking beer and wine, smoking, laughing, even brawling.

Yoongi hands you a pint of stout and you hoisted it. Taehyung meanwhile dances with 5-year-old Cora or tries to, with her standing on his feet. As the tune ends, you walked up to them and leaned down to the little girl and said, “May I cut in, miss?” 

Taehyung smiled at you then at Cora, “You’re still my best girl, Cora” 

Cora scampers off while you and Taehyung faced each other. You were trembling as he took your right hand in his left. His other hand slides to the small of your back. It is an electrifying moment, their hearts beating wildly. 

You looked at Taehyung and whispered, “I don’t know the steps.” 

He smiled at your practical mind, “Just follow my lead. Don’t think”

The music started and they were off, dancing with each other for the first time. A little awkward at first but you then started to get into it. You grinned at Taehyung as you started to get the rhythm of the steps.

“Wait, stop!” You bend down, pulling off your high heeled shoes, and flung them to Yoongi who caught them with a shake of his head and a small smile. Then you grabbed Taehyung and they plunge back into the fray, dancing faster as the music speeds up.

The scene was rowdy and rollicking. A table got knocked over as a drunk crashes into it. And in the middle of it, you were dancing with Taehyung in your stockings. The steps were fast and you shined with sweat. Space opens around them, and people watch you, clapping as the band plays faster and faster.

Jimin and Helga danced ignoring the need for a common language and just enjoyed each others’ presence. He whirled her, then she responded by whirling him too. Jimin’s eyes went wide when he realized that she was stronger than him. 

The tune ended in a mad rush, Taehyung stepped away from (Y/N) with a flourish, allowing you to take a bow. Everyone cheered and applauded. You were suddenly a hit with the steerage folks, who’ve never had a lady party with them.

They moved to a table, flushed and sweaty. You grabbed Jimin’s cigarette and took a big drag. You were feeling cocky. Jimin was grinning, holding hands with Helga. 

“How are you two doin’?” Taehyung asked Jimin who smirked at him.

“I don’t know what she’s saying, she doesn’t know what I’m saying so we get along just fine,” He said, smiling at Helga

Yoongi walked up with a pint for each of them, You chugged yours down, showing off.

“You think a first-class girl can’t drink?“ You asked, a growing smirk on your pretty lips. Yoongi shook his head at you, a smile playing on his face. He grew fond of you, it was almost like you were his long lost sister, who was richer than him anyway…

Everybody else was dancing again, and a man crashes into Yoongi, who sloshes his beer over your expensive dress. You gasped then laughed, not caring one bit, but Yoongi lunges, grabbing the man and wheeling him around. 

“Fuckin’ bastard! Watch where you’re going!” 

The drunken man comes around, his fists coming up and before anything happened, Taehyung leaped into the middle of it, pushing them apart. 

“Boys, boys! The lady’s alright, don’t get all pissy!” He said making Yoongi looked at you which you replied with a reassuring smile, he relaxed a bit and sighed. Yoongi stood there, all piss and vinegar, chest puffed up. Then he grins and claps the man on the shoulder. 

“So, you think you’re big tough men? Let’s see you do this.“ (Y/N) said. In your stocking-feet, you assumed a ballet stance, arms raised, and goes up on point, taking your entire weight on the tips of your toes. The guys gape at your incredible muscle control. But then you came back down, your face screwed up in pain. You grabbed one foot, hopping around. 

“Oooowww! I haven’t done that in years.“ You complained as Taehyung caught you before you lost your balance with everyone laughing.

The door to the well-deck opened a few inches as Lovejoy watched through the gap. He sees Taehyung holding you, both of you laughing. Lovejoy closed the door then retreated back to report back to his master. 

The stars blazed overhead, so bright and clear you can see the Milky Way. (Y/n) and Taehyung walks along the row of lifeboats, still giddy from the party and they are singing a popular song “Come Josephine in My Flying Machine”. 

“Come, Josephine in my flying machine and up she goes! Up she goes! In the air, she goes. Where? There she goes!”

You both fumbled the words then broke down laughing. You two reached the First Class Entrance but didn’t go straight in, not wanting the evening to end. Through the doors, the sound of the ship’s orchestra wafts gently. You grabbed a davit and leans back, staring at the cosmos. 

“Isn’t it magnificent? So grand and endless,” you asked, going to the rails and leaned on your arms on it. 

“They’re such small people, Taehyung… my crowd. They think they’re giants on the earth, but they’re not even dust in God’s eye. They live inside this little tiny champagne bubble… and someday the bubble’s going to burst.” 

He leans at the rail next to you, his hand just touching yours ever so slightly. It is the slightest contact imaginable, and either one of you can only feel the square inch of skin where your hands are touching. 

“You’re not one of them. There’s been a mistake.” Taehyung said making you look at him with an amused raised brow

“A mistake?”

He nodded, ”Uh-huh. You got mailed to the wrong address.“

You laughed and nodded in agreement, “I did, didn’t I”

 Then at the corner of your (e/c) eyes, you saw a bright light pass above. (Y/N) looked up and pointed with a smile, “Look! A shooting star!” 

Taehyung also looked at the magnificent sky and with a quirk of his lips, “This was a long one but my father used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven” 

(Y/N) twinkled like the stars above, “I like that… But aren’t we supposed to make a wish?” 

Taehyung looked at you and found that you were suddenly very close together. It would be so easy to move another couple of inches, to kiss you. Oh, how Taehyung wants to do it but it would be wrong. You seemed to be thinking the same thing, looking down briefly at his lips then up back to his eyes. Taehyung’s breath hitched as he saw the brief flick of your eyes. 

“What would you wish for?” He whispered

After a beat, you moved away, smiling sadly at him and said, “Something I can’t have…”

“Goodnight, Taehyung. And thank you.” You whispered to the night and left the rail, hurrying to the First-Class Entrance. Taehyung looked at you go, feeling conflicted.

“(Y/N)!” He called out but it was too late. The door shuts and you were back in your world while he was left in his.

It was a bright clear day the next morning, sunlight splashing across the promenade. (Y/N) and Jungkook were having breakfast in silence in their private area, the tension is palpable. Trudy, in her maid’s uniform, poured the coffee and went inside, leaving the two alone again.

“I had hoped you would come to me last night.” Jungkook started, not looking at you, eating his breakfast.

You looked up but went back to staring at your plate and cut the food into small pieces, “I was tired.”

Jungkook stopped his movements, stopping mid-cut and looked up, glaring at you. “Yes. Your exertions below the decks were no doubt exhausting.” 

You stiffened at his words but switched back to your usual unbothered facade, “I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me.” 

The man growled, his dark eyebrows arching into a glare as his eyes screamed, anger. 

“You will never behave like that again! Do you understand? And I don’t want you hanging around that dirty little rat again, you hear me!” 

You glared back, matching his anger and said, “I’m not some foreman in your mills than you can command! I am your fiance–“ In one swift and alarming movement, Jungkook exploded and swept the table making the breakfast china and all of its contents fly as it crashed unto the wall and floor at the sheer force. He moved closer to you in one shocking moment, glowering over you and gripping the sides of your chair, so you were trapped between his arms. Leaning to you, his eyes were wide with fury and teeth grinding against each other.

“Yes! You are! As my wife…  in practice, if not yet by law. You will honor me! As a wife is required to honor her husband! I will not be made a fool of! Is this in any way unclear?” Jungkook glowered as he stared deep into your eyes. You were trembling, heart, beating fast but not the same rhythm when you were with Taehyung, no. It was pure fear. 

You shrink into the chair. You see Trudy, frozen, partway through the door bringing the orange juice. Jungkook followed your eyes and straightened up when he saw the maid. Without any words, he stalked past the maid, entering the stateroom, leaving you with tears threatening to escape your (e/c) eyes.

Trudy quickly went to the mess and tried to fix it. You followed her actions, crouching beside her, still trembling. 

“I’m sorry, Trudy. We had a little accident…” 

Trudy looked at her mistress and frowned, stopping you from touching the broken china.

“It’s okay, Miss.” but you did not stop. Trudy tried again, “Miss, please don’t touch it. You might cut yourself” 

You finally snapped back to reality as you slumped to the floor and tears freely flowed down your soft cheeks. You hid your face in your hands. Trudy looked at you, a deep frown on her face, worried deeply. 

Inside (M/N)’s suite, You were being dressed for the day and is in the middle of wearing your corset with your mother’s help. The tight bindings on your corset showing (M/N)’s fury.

“You are not to see that boy again, do you understand me (Y/N)? I forbid it!” She blurted out. 

“Oh, stop it, Mother. You’ll give yourself a nosebleed.” You muttered and gasped slightly when you felt the harsh tug of the corset. (M/N) turned you around, making the younger look at her.

“(Y/N), this is not a game! Our situation is precarious. You know the money’s gone!” 

You scoffed, “Of course, I know. You remind it to me every day.”

(M/N) glared at her daughter and said, “Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name. And that name is the only card we have to play.”

(M/N) turned you back around and continued to lace your corset up. You glanced down to your feet, sucking down on your waist, a frown present on your pretty face.

“I don’t understand you. It is a fine match with Jeon, and it will ensure our survival.”

“How can you put this on my shoulder” You muttered, feeling angry and sad at the pressure of your mother.

You turned around again to say something but stopped when you saw the pure fear in your mother’s eyes. 

“Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? Do you want to see our fine things sold at an auction, our memories scattered to the winds? My God, (Y/N), how can you be so selfish?” (M/N) asked, tears burning her eyes. 

“I’m being selfish? Me?! You are being unfair, mother–!” 

“Of course it’s unfair! We’re women. Our choices are never easy.” (M/N) uttered out, pulling the last lace and tied it securely. The maids then went inside the room, placing the dresses the two will wear on the bed. For the rest of the time you were being dressed, it was quiet and tense. Neither of you two was talking, only the thoughts running on your mind occupied you.

At the divine service, Captain Smith was leading a group in the hymn of “Almighty Father Strong To Save.” You and your mother sang in the middle of the group, looking at the pamphlet in your hands.

Lovejoy stood at the back, keeping an eye on you. He noticed a commotion at the entry doors and quickly gone out. Taehyung has been halted there by two stewards. He has dressed back in his third-class clothes and stood there, hat in hand, looking out of place. 

“Look, you-you’re not supposed to be in here.” A steward said, pushing him back. 

“I was just here last night… don’t you remember?” Taehyung pleaded. He saw Lovejoy walking towards them and looked at him hopefully, pointing at him.

“He will tell you!”

Lovejoy went out and stood in front of Taehyung, “Mr. Jeon and Mrs. (L/N)  continue to be most appreciative of your assistance. They asked me to give you this in gratitude–”  He held out two twenty-dollar bills, which Taehyung refuses to take.

He shook his head, “I don’t want money. I–”

“-and also to remind you that you hold a third-class ticket and your presence here is no longer appropriate.” Lovejoy continued as Taehyung sighed in annoyance. He looked past Lovejoy and saw (Y/N) but you did not spot him. 

“I just need to talk to (Y/N) for–”

Lovejoy cut him off and turned to the stewards, “Gentlemen, please see that Mr. Kim gets back to where he belongs.” as he gave the twenties to them. “And that he stays there” The tall servant added.

The stewards nodded, “Yes sir!” and turned to Taehyung, “Come along” as they dragged the male away who struggled, shouting for you. Inside the room, the younger (L/N) did not see it, singing in the choir but your mother did, nodding appreciatively to Lovejoy who made eye contact with her, smirking ever so slightly.

Taehyung, walking with determination, is followed closely by Yoongi and Jimin. He quickly climbed the steps to B-Deck and stepped over the gate separating 3rd from 2nd class.

“She’s a goddess amongst mortal men, there’s no denyin’ that. And I like her too, she’s like a sister to me but she’s in another world, Tae. She’s closed the door.” Yoongi said, looking at the young artist. Taehyung moved furtively to the wall below the A-Deck promenade, aft. Jimin agreed with Yoongi.

“Yoongi is right, Taehyungie. (Y/N)’s an angel but sometimes we just have to move on. Haven’t you think that she may also don’t want anything to do with us?” 

“It was them, not her.” He said firmly and looked around.

“Ready?… Go.” Taehyung said, ignoring their words. 

Yoongi shook his head resignedly and puts his hands together with Jimin in the same position, crouching down. Taehyung steps into Yoongi’s and Jimin’s hands and got boosted up to the next deck, where he scrambles nimbly over the railing, onto the First Class deck.

“He’s crazy I tell you,” Yoongi said as he watched Taehyung run 

“Love makes you do crazy things, Yoongi…” Jimin commented as a small smile on his face but a bit worried about his best friend. 

Taehyung sneakily walked in the deck, looking around for any workers he has to avoid. He then saw a lone coat jacket on one of the benches. He swiftly took it and run off, searching for you.

On the other side, a 21-year-old Junior Wireless Operator hustles in and skirts around Andrews’ tour group to hand a Marconigram to Captain Smith.

“Another ice warning, sir. This one from the “Baltic”.” 

 “Thank you, Sparks.” Smith glanced at the message then nonchalantly put it in his pocket. He nods reassuringly to you and the group.

“Not to worry, it’s quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we’re speeding up. I’ve just ordered the last boilers lit.” He reassured the group. 

Andrews leads the group back from the bridge along the boat deck, seeing the lifeboats. “Mr. Andrews, I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned… forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard.” You said, worrying.

“ About half, actually. (Y/N), you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats here. But it was thought… by some… that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was over-ruled.” Andrews said, a frown in his face.

Jungkook scoffed and slapped the side of the boat with his cane, “Waste of deck space as it is, on an unsinkable ship!”

Andrews smiled at Jungkook’s faith in his work, “Sleep soundly, young (Y/N). I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She’s all the lifeboat you need.”

As they are passing Boat 7, a gentleman turns from the rail and walked up behind the group. It was Taehyung. He tapped (Y/N) on the arm and you turned, gasping when you saw him. He motioned to follow him and you quickly cut away from the group toward a door that Taehyung held open. You two duck into the gymnasium.  Taehyung closed the door behind you and glanced out through the ripple-glass window to the starboard rail, where the gym instructor is chatting up the woman who was riding the bike. You and Taehyung were now alone in the room.

You looked at Taehyung and remembered your mother’s words and your fiance’s outburst, you frowned.

“Taehyung, this is impossible. I can’t see you anymore.” You reasoned, trying to move away and exit the room.

He shook his head and held you by the shoulders, looking deep into your eyes and breathed out, “(Y/N), I need to talk to you”

You furrowed your eyebrows with a sad frown, “No, Taehyung, no” And looked at the window with a worrying glance, “Taehyung… I’m engaged. I’m marrying Jungkook and I love him.” you added, glossy eyes hinting your sadness. Your tone makes it seems like you aren’t even trying to convince Taehyung but yourself. 

Taehyung wore a skeptical grin, “(Y/N) you’re no picnic… you’re a spoiled little brat even, but under that, you’re a strong, pure heart, and you’re the most amazingly astounding girl- woman-I’ve ever known and–”

You frowned once again, “Taehyung, I–” and moved away but Taehyung stopped you before continuing quickly.

“No, wait. Let me try to get this out. You’re ama…” He stopped for a bit, breathing deeply.

“I’m not an idiot. I know how the world works, I got 10 bucks in my pocket and I know I have nothing to offer you, (Y/N). I know that. But I’m too involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can’t turn away without knowin’ that you’re goin’ to be alright. That’s all I want” Taehyung said, his last words almost a whisper, looking at you with the utmost sincerity that it made your eyes gleam with tears. 

The male was open and real, unlike anyone you have known. 

“Well, I’m fine. I’ll be fine, really” You whispered, Taehyung leaning closer to you.

“Really?” He asked again as your gaze shifts uneasily

“I don’t think so. They’ve got you in a glass jar like some butterfly, and you’re goin’ to die if you don’t break out. Maybe not right away, 'cause you’re strong. But sooner or later the fire in you is goin’ to go out.” Taehyung caressed your cheek, you looking up at him, swallowed hard and with a quiet voice, “It’s not up to you to save me, Taehyung.” 

He nodded

“You’re right. Only you can do that.” Taehyung said, leaning a bit closer than before but you stopped him with your hand touching his.

The young aristocrat stared at him, eyes hiding what you really felt, “I’m going back, leave me alone. Please, Taehyung, for both our sakes, leave me alone.” and tear yourself away from him, going out the room. Taehyung’s sad eyes followed you and after you were out of sight, he hung his head in defeat, jaw clenched.

The most elegant room on the ship, done in Louis Quinze Versaille style. You sat on a divan, with a group of other women arrayed around you. (M/N), the Countess Rothes and Lady Duff-Gordon are taking tea. You were silent and still like a porcelain figurine while the conversation washes around you.

“Of course the invitations had to be sent back to the printers twice. And the bridesmaids’ dresses! Let me tell you what an odyssey that has been…” (M/N) informed the other ladies. 

In your thoughts, you saw yourself when you were a four years old girl, wearing white gloves, daintily picking up a cookie. Your mother correcting your posture, and the way you held the teacup. The little girl was trying so hard to please the woman, her expression serious. A glimpse of (Y/N) at that age, and the relentless conditioning, shows the pain in becoming an Edwardian geisha. 

Finally, you have decided. You nonchalantly spilled the tea unto your immaculate dress, stating, “Oh, looked at what I have done.”

In the dusk light of the sun, as if lit by the embers of a giant fire, the ship looms, Taehyung was there, right at the apex of the bow railing, his favorite spot. He closes his eyes, letting the chill wind clear his head. His emotions in ruins.

He hears your voice, calling out to him.

“Hello, Taehyung” He turned around, shocked as he saw you. You bit your lips and gave a sheepish smile, “I changed my mind.” 

A broad warm grin expanded on his face, looking at you with a soft glint in his equally warm eyes. Your cheeks were red with the chill wind, and eyes sparkling like diamonds. Your hair blew wildly about your face.

“Jimin said you might be here–”

“Shhh… Come here”

You walked up to him as he put his hands on your waist. Like he was going to kiss you. “Close your eyes.” 

And you did, and he turns you to face forward, the way the ship is going. He presses you gently to the rail, standing right behind you with a soft smile. Then he took your two hands and raised them until you were standing with your arms outstretched on each side. You were going along with him and when he lowers his hands, your arms stayed up… like wings.

“Okay, you can open them now” He whispered to your ears, his deep voice affecting you deeply.

(Y/N) gasped. There is nothing in your field of vision but water, it’s like there was no ship under them at all, just the two of them soaring. The Atlantic unrolls toward you, a hammered copper shield under a dusk sky. There were only the wind and the hiss of the water 50 feet below. You grinned.

You leaned forward, arching your back. Taehyung puts his hands on your waist to steady you, leaning his cheek to the side of your head.

“Come Josephine in my flying machine…” Taehyung sang softly beside your ear, the same song you two sang when you left the party making you giggle gently.

You closed your eyes, feeling yourself floating weightless far above the sea. You smiled dreamily, then leaned back, gently pressing your back against his chest. He pushes forward slightly against you.

Slowly he raised his hands, arms outstretched, and they meet yours… fingertips gently touching then their fingers intertwined. Moving slowly, their fingers caress through and around each other like the bodies of two lovers.

Taehyung tips his face forward into your blowing hair, letting the scent of you wash over him.

You turned your head until your lips were near his, you lowered your arms, turning further until you found his mouth with yours. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you kissed like this with your head turned and tilted back, surrendering to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. Kissing, slowly and tremulously, and then with building passion. You slowly caressed the back of his neck, pulling him into you to deepen the kiss.

Taehyung and the ship seemed to merge into one force of power and optimism, lifting you, buoying you forward on a magical journey, soaring onward into a night without fear.

Like in a dream, the beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery were designed expertly. Taehyung was overwhelmed by the opulence of the room, he sets his sketchbook and drawing materials on the marble table. You giggled at his nervous face and said, “This is quite proper, I assure you”

“Will this light do? Don’t artists need good light?” You asked the young artist

Taehyung looked back at you with a sly grin after he admired the place and with a really bad French accent he said, “Zat is true, I am not used to working in such 'orreeble conditions.” 

You giggled, shaking your head. Taehyung then saw a painting on the wall, going towards it in awe, “Monet!” 

He crouches next to the paintings stacked against the wall. You followed him and asked, “You know him?”

“Yes, isn’t he great… the use of color? I saw him once… through a hole in this garden fence in Giverny.” You nodded, smiling at him. You then went into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe closet. He saw you go to the safe and start working the combination. He let the other paintings fascinate him.

”Jungkook insists on lugging this thing everywhere.” 

Taehyung frowned a bit that the mention of your fiance, he looked around to distract him from the jealousy he felt. 

“Should I be expecting him anytime soon?” He asked and you walked towards him with a velvet case on your hands.

“Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out.” You opened it and removed the necklace, then held it out to Taehyung who took it nervously.

“What is it? A sapphire?” He asked, studying the necklace. 

“Diamond. A very rare diamond.” You said then looked at him with a nervous glint in your eyes. You licked your lips.

“I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this.” Taehyung turned to you.

“Wearing only this” You added with a smile. The man’s eyes widened at your declaration. He nodded slowly, gulping, “I-If that’s what you want” 

Taehyung arranged the couch where you will lay on later while you get ready. You draw the butterfly clip out of your hair. You shook your head and your hair falls free around your shoulders. In the sitting room, he was laying out his pencils like surgical tools. His sketchbook is open and ready. He looks up in his seat when you came into the room, wearing a silk robe and your hair laid down, framing your face.

“The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a china doll. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want.” You instructed, acting as one of the snobbish rich folks which made Taehyung smile. 

You hand him a dime and steps back, parting with the robe. The bluestone laid between your breasts. Your heart was pounding as you slowly lower the robe and Taehyung’s situation wasn't any better, in fact, his heart was pounding at his ribcage that he thought, it’ll jump out any second. Taehyung looked so stricken, it was almost comical. The robe drops to the floor. 

You laid on the divan, “Tell me when it looks right to you.” you posed, settling like a cat, one arm beside you and the other outstretched.

Taehyung’s dark eyes scanned you and snapped out of his thought when he remembered, “Uh… just bend your left leg a little and… and lower your head. Eyes to me. That’s it.”

Taehyung started to sketch but when he looked up and meets your eyes, he almost dropped his pencil as you stifled a laugh.

“I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste. I can’t imagine Monsieur Monet blushing.” You teased a smirk present on your beautiful face

Taehyung sweats as he grinned shyly, “He does landscapes.” Despite his nervousness, he draws with sure strokes, and what emerges is the best thing he has ever done. Your pose was languid, your hands beautiful, and your eyes radiate energy.

When he finished, he signed the drawing. You, wearing your robe again, leaned on his shoulder, watching him. You gazed at the drawing, marveling at the piece of art. Taehyung is, with no doubt in your mind and heart, was a brilliant artist. He has X-rayed your soul. 

“Date it, Tae. I want to always remember this night” You whispered making Taehyung gulped, the nervousness he felt earlier, coming back, he nodded. He dates it and gave it to you, looking up at you as you stared at him. You leaned closer and pecked his lips, sharing a soft kiss.

You, meanwhile, scribbles a note on a piece of Titanic stationery and crosses to the safe in the wardrobe.

You put the diamond back in the safe, placing the drawing and the note on top of it. Closes the door with a clunk

Inside the smoking room, Lovejoy enters from the Palm Court through the revolving door and crosses the room toward Jungkook. A fire is blazing in the marble fireplace, and the usual fatcats were playing cards, drinking and talking. He sees Lovejoy and detaches from his group, going to him.

“None of the stewards have seen her.” 

Jungkook scowled at him, “This is ridiculous, Lovejoy. Find her”

Back to your suite, the (L/N) was fully dressed now, returned to the sitting room. They heard a key in the lock. You quickly take Taehyung’s hand and leads him silently through the bedrooms. Lovejoy enters by the sitting-room door. 

“Miss (Y/N)? Hello?” He then hears a door opening and goes through Jungkook’s room toward yours.

You and Taehyung came out of your stateroom, closing the door. You lead him quickly along the corridor toward the B deck foyer. You were halfway across the open space when the sitting-room door opens in the corridor and Lovejoy came out. The valet sees Taehyung with you and ran after them.

“Come on!” 

You and Taehyung break into a run, surprising the few ladies and gentlemen around. You led him past the stairs to the bank of elevators. They run into one, shocking the hell out of the operator.

“Take us down! Quickly!” You ordered. The Operator scrambles to comply, Taehyung even helped him close the steel gate. Lovejoy runs up as the lift starts to descend. He slams one hand on the bars of the gate. You raised your middle finger to the annoying servant of your fiance, sniggering, Taehyung gazed at you oh so fondly, chuckling at your actions as Lovejoy disappears above while the operator gaped at you.

Lovejoy emerged from another lift and runs to the one Taehyung and you were in. The Operator was just closing the gate to go back up. Lovejoy ran around the bank of elevators and scans the foyer… no Taehyung and (Y/N). He went to the stairs that goings down to F-Deck.

A functional space, with access to several machine spaces (fan rooms, boiler uptakes). Taehyung and you were leaning against a wall, laughing.

“Pretty tough for a valet, this fella.” Taehyung rasped out

“He’s an ex-Pinkerton. Jungkook’s father hired him to keep him out of trouble… to make sure he always got back to the hotel with his wallet and watch, after some crawl through the less reputable parts of town…” you explained with a smile, gazing at Taehyung

“Kinda like we’re doin’ right now– uh oh!” He cut himself off when he saw Lovejoy.

The valet spotted them from a cross-corridor nearby. He charges toward them. Taehyung and you run around a corner into a blind alley. There was one door, marked CREW ONLY, and the male flung it open.

You two entered the roaring ran-room, with no way out but a ladder going down. He latches the deadbolt on the door, and Lovejoy slams against it a moment later. Taehyung grins at you pointing to the ladder.

“After you, m’lady~”

You two came down the escape ladder and look around in amazement. It is like a vision of hell itself, with the roaring furnaces and black figures moving in the smoky glow. Running the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal.  

You run through the open watertight door into the boiler room as Taehyung pulled you through the fiercely hot alley between two boilers and they wind up in the dark, out of sight of the working crew. Watching from the shadows, you saw the stokers working in the hellish glow, shoveling coal into the insatiable maws of the furnaces. The whole place thunders with the roar of the fires. 

Back with at the smoking room with amid unparalleled luxury, Jungkook sat at a card game, sipping brandy.

“We’re going like hell I tell you. I have fifty dollars that say we make it into New York Tuesday night!” Namjoon said, with his own brandy. Jungkook looks at his gold pocket watch, and scowls, not listening. 

The furnaces roar, down at the boiler room, silhouetting the glistening stokers. Taehyung kissed your face, tasting the sweat trickling down from your forehead. You two kissed passionately in the steamy, pounding darkness.

They entered and run laughing between the rows of stacked cargo. You hugged yourself against the cold, after the dripping heat of the boiler room.

They come upon Kim Seokjin’s brand new touring car, lashing down to a pallet. It looks like a royal coach from a fairy tale, its brass trim, and headlamps nicely set off by its deep burgundy color.

You climbed into the plushly upholstered backseat, acting very royal. There were cut crystals bud vases on the walls back there, each containing a rose. Taehyung jumps into the driver’s seat, enjoying the feel of the leather and wood.

“Where to, pretty lady?” 

You smiled, “To the stars”

Your hands then came out of the shadows and pulled him over the seat into the back, making Taehyung laugh. He landed next to you, and his breath seems loud in the quiet darkness. He looks at you and saw you smiling. It was the moment of truth.

“Are you nervous?” He whispered

You smiled a bit at Taehyung, “I am more than okay, Taehyung”

He returned your smile, caressing your soft cheek. Taehyung studied you for a moment, how the faint glow of the light shined on you making your eyes glow with warmth swimming inside it. 

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N)” 

You took his hand and kissed his fingers, “Put your hand on me, Taehyung…”

His eyes narrowed at your words, looking deep into your (e/c) eyes as he saw the desire behind it. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours. You leaned forward, catching him off-guard while you deepened the kiss. The cold lips of yours made Taehyung shiver, desire started to creep upon him. He laid his body on top of you which you welcomed, enjoying the weight and warmth he offered. 

One of his large hand trailed up to your chest, squeezing the soft breast which earned a whimper. You broke the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting you two as you panted, “Tae…” You called out. The soft and needy voice made Taehyung crazy.

“Fuck, love…” He uttered out, connecting both of your lips together once again in a more frenzy manner than before. Taehyung licked a soft stripe on your lips, asking for permission which you granted willingly. The warm appendage met yours in a swirl as you moaned at the contact.

“Mhhmm~” 

Taehyung groaned in satisfaction at your lovely mewl, wanting to hear more. He broke off the kiss and went straight to your neck, kissing it with his wet lips. His hands trailed up and down at your body, making you burn in desire. You ground your hips up, the dull ache you felt made you impatient and the feeling of his hardening length pressed in his thin pants against you were not making it better for you. Taehyung tilts his head in pleasure, closing his eyes at the sudden movement.

“Ahh..” 

You heard his deep voice, his moans were definitely a new favorite for you. Taehyung opened his eyes, looking deeply into you with half-lidded eyes, licking his lips. 

“You’re so pretty, Taehyung” You whispered against his lips, he smiled and shook his head, playfully.

“I guess you haven’t seen yourself, love”

You giggled, Taehyung nuzzling his face against your cold skin once again then begun to kiss down to your body. Your breath hitched, watching him slowly go down on you. 

“We really need to get you out of these clothes…” You heard the male say impatiently, gathering it up in his hands and sliding it off you. 

The heavy dress was off you in seconds, you didn’t know how he did it or how he managed when you needed multiple hands just to fix it. Taehyung gazed at your half-naked body, a thin layer of white undershirt was all you wore. Your nipples peaked against the thin white fabric, Taehyung gulped at the sight as he raised a hand. He ever so slightly touched the hardened bud making you gasp in surprise. He groaned at your reaction, the sight making his blood go straight south. 

“You’re killing me here, (Y/N)…” He groaned out, leaning against you to gain some friction. You bit your lip at his words and action, the unfamiliar pleasure washing over you.

“Please touch me more, Tae…” You whispered back to him, raking your soft hands through his red hair, Taehyung relishing at your touch. 

Noticing his unfocused attention, you let your hands wander around his body, trying to memorize every detail in him. You touched his back to his chest and then down to his torso. You let your hands stop just before going to his hips, giggling softly at Taehyung’s small impatient whine. 

You took pity on the young man above you and touched him. Your eyes turned half-lidded at what you felt, he was definitely not small.

God, he was huge and so fucking hard. You gulped, the outline of his cock against his pants made you hungry and made you want more. 

You caressed his cock through his slacks, Taehyung’s pants and small moans made you wetter. You pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the throbbing heat. 

The red-haired male noticed it, he raised a warm hand to your thigh and squeezed it then moved it, making you open your legs wider. You blushed at the sudden movement and tried to close your legs but Taehyung gripped your thighs, pinning it down against the rough surface of the car’s leather. 

“You should see yourself from this view, love. You look like a masterpiece, so ready to get fucked by my cock” Taehyung’s lust laced voice made your throbbing heat ache even more. 

You clenched at nothing when you heard his words, you bit your lips and lifted your hips at meet his. 

Taehyung sighed, his cock was so hard that it was actually painful. How can you be so perfect…

He removed one of his large hands off your thigh and to his crotch, palming himself as he watched you through his slightly wet bangs due to his sweat. You panted at the intensity of his eyes, you couldn’t help but copy him. You let your hand wander around your body, tweaking your hardened buds while you tried to hump Taehyung but ended up humping nothing but air as he moved a bit to watch you more carefully. 

Taehyung growled at your desperate actions, slamming his hands back to your hips, gripping it tightly. 

“This is all mine, mine to touch, mine to play with.” He massaged your body, going over you as he left nothing untouched. Taehyung leaned closer to you, attaching his lips to your neck again and marked you. You felt one of his hands go lower, going to your pubis as he stroked your mound lightly. 

You moaned, closing your eyes tightly. Taehyung touched your clit against your underwear, fondling at it as the fabric gotten wetter with every stroke. The press of the wet fabric and Taehyung’s finger, rolling slowly against the bud, was making you crazy.

“D-Don’t be such a tease, Taehyung..” 

He smirked against your bruised neck, bitting at it again, leaving the already red skin turn violet-ish. His long fingers passed through the band of your underwear and touched your wet lips. 

“A-Ah…”

“Fuck, you’re so wet…” 

Taehyung quickly ripped the underwear of you and throwing it on the car’s carpeted floor.

He brushed against your lips then opened, you felt the sudden gush of air making you shiver. Taehyung’s middle finger made contact with your clit again, pressing and kneaded it more harshly. After a bit, you felt his fingertips prodding your entrance, wiggling itself inside slowly.

“Fuck–!” 

He chuckled at you, “My, my~ What a dirty little mouth you have, love” 

You let out a whimper at the intrusion, Taehyung prepping you for something bigger later. His long finger settled inside your heat, waiting for you to adjust. You nodded, cueing that he can move. Taehyung groaned at your tight heat while he pumps his finger slowly. He added another when he saw you adjusting and whining for more. His speeding fingers made noisy squelches that it embarrassed you at how wet you became, you grasped his hair and pulled in into a kiss.

Long fingers pumped in and out of you in a frenzy motion that it made your body rock with the rhythm. Your one hand went to his wrist, feeling the frantic movement of Taehyung. You looked at him and saw him looking so impatient and the subtly twitching of his cock inside his pants was so delicious.

“Taehyung, take me already” 

He groaned at that, he removed his fingers out of you. Your juice coating his hand and in a swift, he raised it to his mouth and sucked on his fingers, never breaking eye contact with you. He removed his fingers with a soft pop, he licked his lips. You were enthralled at the wet appendage, oh how much you want to feel it against your clit but that’s for next time. You need him to fuck you right now. 

“You taste so good, love. I’ll eat you up like my last meal–”

“Tae, just fuck me!” 

Your little outburst shocked the male but he smiled after a while, kissing your nose. The soft affection is definitely different from how his hard cock pressing at your pussy. You both moaned at the contact. Taehyung quickly got out of his pants and boxers, leaving him naked in front of you. 

He held his cock with one of his hand and positioned it to your entrance, he looked at you through his lashes with small uncertainly. 

“You ready?” 

“Yes” 

You let out a deep breath, waiting for Taehyung to move. Taehyung entered your heat, hissing at the tightness. He laid his forehead against your collarbones, eye tightly shut, relishing at the feeling. The slow entry of his cock was painfully pleasurable, the burn of the stretch made it addicting.

You felt really good, a soft squelch echoed as Taehyung entered you and the tight grip of your pussy to his dick was too much. He groaned in surprise when you clenched down on him. His eyes opened widely at that, not expecting it. 

“Move, Tae…” 

He nodded against your neck, kissing the closest skin. Taehyung slowly pulled out half-way then slammed back at you with a firm pump. 

“Fuck…” 

“Mhmm”

His cock was hot and throbbing against your walls. As he fucked you, the wet sounds of your pussy swallowing him back in eagerly reached his ears. He groaned, the fact you got so wet for him made him go even harder. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it with his skilled tongue, making you gasp at the added pleasure. Your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts, Taehyung watching you, mesmerized, but his thrust never flailing. He then angled his thrust, hitting your soft spot making you cry out, your back arched at the burst of pleasure. Taehyung chuckled against your wet skin.

Your walls clenched around his cock, the pleasure too much for you. He grunted, he doubled his speed and began to fuck you roughly.

The blunt tip of his cock hitting your g-spot every hard thrust he made your pussy fluttered around him in anticipation. 

“T-Taehyung…” You whimpered out, your hips arching to meet his hard thrust, eye-rolling back at the white pleasure he offered. He then reached between your thighs and found your clit with his thumb. The bud was hard and swollen, making it easier to roll with his fingers. The way his long fingers toyed with the bundle of nerves, his thumb stroking it back and forth, has you hurtling over the edge.

“A-ah. Ah! Tae-Taehyung,” you choked out, his name falling from your lips over and over again like a mantra. Suddenly, you gush around him, your cum coating his cock. Clenching tightly against him and the gush of wetness was enough to send Taehyung to his own orgasm.

“(Y/N)–!” He moaned out, eyes shut as his eyebrows furrowed at the pleasure raking his body, making his body twitch involuntarily. He kissed you, lips smacking loudly against yours.

Fingers fondled roughly at your clit as his thrust became sloppy, letting you ride your orgasm along with his. His shaft pulses inside you before you feel him shoot rope after rope of white cum into you. A soft sigh of pleasure leaves your lips, his warmth filling you up from the inside as he coats your walls white with his cum. 

Taehyung let his body rest against you, you smiled tiredly at that. Your soft hands caressing his hair and back, feeling him still shiver at the aftereffect of his orgasm. 

You looked at him, pulling his face towards you to let him face you. You looked at his flustered face, sweat coated his hair and forehead slightly.

“You are trembling… Are you okay?” 

Taehyung kissed your hand that was close to his lips, smiling against your skin. His big brown eyes staring deeply at your (e/c) ones.

“I am more than okay… I love you, (Y/N)” 

You smiled shyly at him, bringing him closer to kiss him softly. He smiled into the kiss, his own hand caressing your face. You hugged him close to you, fearing the time where they will take him away from you but for now, he is here. Taehyung’s with you.

Inside your suite room, Jungkook entered inside and looked for you. He scowled at the empty room, looking at the moved divan with suspicion. 

He walked towards the wardrobe where the safe is, his tall figure gliding confidently across the room. Jungkook glared at the open safe. He walked closer when he saw a piece of paper on top of the velvet black box. He got the paper out and stared at it with fury bubbling inside of him. He gripped it tightly, crumpling it a bit. 

The drawing of you mocked him and your little letter sends him hurling to the edge, 

Darling, now you can keep us both locked up in your safe.

-(Y/n) 

Jungkook crumpled the note then moved to the drawing, hands taking it as if to rip it in half, with a vice grip on the paper. He stopped himself though, looking at the drawing. He smirked evilly, looking straight at your realistically drawn eyes. 

“No no. I have a much better idea.”

You two got dressed after calming your wildly beating hearts and resting your tired bodies. Taehyung kissed your cheek, helping you button your dress up. You giggled at the affection as you buttoned the last one and nudged him to the door, the male opening it and went out. Taehyung faced you, offering his hand with a small bow with a smile. 

You smiled, grabbing his hand and went out of the car with his help, “Thank you, good sir, ~” 

Taehyung bowed his head a bit with his charming boxy smile, closing the car door behind you, “Anything for the pretty lady~”

The two of you laughed at your antics then Taehyung held your hand with a comforting grip, guiding you two out of the place still giggling under your breaths. People and workers watched the couple with raised brows and a small disapproving frown at their actions, blatantly showing affection in public.

Taehyung stopped when you two reached the deck, moving closer to you with small chuckles escaping him. His nose bumping against yours lovingly, his smile warm and contented. You returned his smile, arms wrapping around his torso. You two swayed to the unheard music, basking in the warmth of your two bodies offered. 

You and Taehyung stood in the corner of the deck in each other’s arms. Breaths of clouds around you in the now freezing air, but neither of you even feel the cold, too caught up in each other’s loving eyes. 

“Once this ship docks, I’m running away with you” You whispered against his lips.

Taehyung smiled playfully, “Are you sure? It might just be your adrenaline talking” He teased. You nudged him a bit, his playful smile turning softer.

“I know. It doesn’t make any sense. But that’s why I trust it.” You replied, smiling up at him. 

“Then we’ll run away, far from anyone you know. We’ll live in a small house. Just the two of us and that will be our new beginning” Taehyung muttered then pressed both of your lips together. You smiled through the kiss, hand going up to his hair to deepen the kiss. You two kissed each other with passion, ignoring your surroundings and focused on each other. 

In the crow’s nest above you two, a male saw you two. He nudged his co-worker with a small smirk. 

“Hey Cor, would you look at that” 

The other male looked at where the other was looking and scoffed, rubbing his hands together for warmth, “They’re bloody warmer than we are that’s for sure”

“Well if that’s what it takes for us two to get warm, I’d rather not, you’re one ugly bugger” 

The two laughed at that, but then the former’s expression fell. Glancing forward again, he does a double-take. The color draining out of his face. In about 500 yards away, a massive iceberg right in their path.

He reaches past the other male and rings the lookout bell three times, then grabbed the telephone, calling the bridge. He waits precious seconds for it to be picked up, never taking his eyes off the black mass ahead, terrified. 

“Pick up, you bastard!” 

The phone was then picked up and the male explained everything. It was there where everything went to shit.

Workers dashed through the halls in frenzied motion, the urgency of the moment thickening the air. In the steerage, Jimin walked out, looking at what’s the commotion was all about. He yelped when he saw dozens of rats running towards him. He jumped out the way and watched in surprise as it runs past him to the corridor. 

In the stateroom where Yoongi was sleeping, he rolls over his bunk bed and drops into cold water. 

“What the fuck-!” He shouted angrily, feeling the cold water sip into his thin clothes but then stopped, looking at the ground where he sat. 3 feet of ice-cold water flood into his room and was steadily rising up. 

He pulls the door open and stepped out into the corridor, which was also flooded. Jimin was running toward him, yelling something in Busan dialect. 

“What the hell is happening, Jimin?” 

“I don’t know! The portmen are in a rush outside and there were rats running out of here!” 

Yoongi groaned at that and told Jimin to alert everyone. The two started pounding on doors, getting everybody up and out. The alarm spreads in several languages. After getting everyone up, Yoongi and Jimin were in a crowd of steerage men clogging the corridors, heading aft away from the flooding. Many of them have grabbed suitcases and duffel bags, some of which are soaked.

“If this is the direction the rats were runnin’, it’s good enough for me,” Yoongi muttered, Jimin shaking his head at his words.

In the forward deck, you and Taehyung looked at the dark. Leaning to the railing, gazing at the large iceberg. The red-haired male noticed your distress and grabbed your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. It looks nothing to me”

You looked at Taehyung, a frown playing on your lips. “Has it damaged the ship?…” You asked, remembering the limited lifeboats in worry.

Taehyung smiled reassuringly at you, “It didn’t seem like much of a bump. I’m sure we’re okay.” 

You nodded, wanting to believe Taehyung’s words but the anxious feeling was getting to you.

Inside the B-deck, Ismay, dressed in pajamas under the topcoat, hurried down the corridor, headed for the bridge. An officious steward came along the other direction, getting the few concerned passengers back into their rooms.

“There’s no cause for alarm. Please, go back to your rooms.” He said but was stopped in his tracks by Jungkook and Lovejoy.

“Please, sir. There’s no emergency–” 

Jungkook scoffed at that, “Of course there is! I have been robbed, call the Masters at Arms.” 

The steward stopped and stared at Jungkook, shocked at the news. Jungkook glared at him, “Now you moron!” 

“Y-Yes, sir!” 

You and Taehyung came up the steps from the well deck, which were right next to the three men. They stare as the couple climbs over the locked gate.

A moment later Captain Smith rounds the corner, followed by Andrews and Carpenter Hutchinson. They have come down from the bridge by the outside stairs. The three men, their faces grim, crush right past Taehyung and you. Andrews barely glances at you.

“Can you shore up?” 

“Not unless the pumps get ahead.” 

The inspection party then goes down the stairs to the well deck. Taehyung looked at you with a small frown, “It’s bad…” 

You looked at Taehyung with alarm, “We have to tell Mother and Jungkook”

The male sighed, “Now it’s worse…”

You smiled sadly, “Come with me? You jump, I jump, right?”

Taehyung smiled back at you, he couldn’t say no to his girl, “Right”

The two of you then run through the door, going inside the ship. When you two cross the foyer, entering the corridor. Lovejoy is already there waiting for you in the hall as you two approach the room.

Lovejoy looked up from his pocket watch, nodding a greeting to you and ignoring Taehyung, “We have been waiting for you, miss”

He let the two of you walk ahead of him, and from just behind Taehyung he walked. He smoothly slips the diamond necklace into the pocket of Taehyung’s overcoat, expression never changing.

Inside your and Jungkook’s suite, you two saw him and your mother along with the Masters at Arms and two other stewards. Your eyebrows furrowed at their presence but shook it off, wanting to tell them the news about the ship. You cleared your throat, “Something terrible has happened”

Jungkook nodded, a glare playing in his handsome face, “Yes, two things dear to me have disappeared this evening. Now that one is back” He stopped for a moment to look at your directly at your eyes then scowled at Taehyung who’s beside you.

“I have a pretty good idea where to find the other.” Jungkook nodded to the Master at Arms, looking at Taehyung.

“Search him” 

The Masters at Arms gone to Taehyung with a hard glare, remembering him from the incident a couple of days ago. “Coat off, mate.”

 Lovejoy who was still behind Taehyung pulled on his coat roughly. The red-haired male scoffed at that and shrugged his coat off, reluctantly. The Masters at Arms then begun patting him down. Taehyung glared back at the young aristocrat who sat in the divan. 

“This is bullshit” 

You watched the scene with shock then turned to Jungkook who watched it with a stone-cold face, “Jungkook, you can’t be serious! We have something bigger happening and this–”

“Is this it?” The man cut you off, showing your diamond necklace to everyone in the room. You gaped at the sight in disbelief. Taehyung looked at it, shocked, then shook his head.

Jungkook smirked and nodded, standing up, “Yes, that’s it,” he said as he went to you. 

The bulky male turned to Taehyung, “Now don’t make a fuss” and started to cuff him. 

Taehyung struggled and looked at you with wide eyes, “No! (Y/n)! Don’t you believe it! It’s not true!”

You were silent for a moment but then you looked at Jungkook, who looked down at you as if you were a fragile porcelain doll, “He-he couldn’t have” You said uncertainly.

“Of course he could. Easy enough for a professional. He memorized the combination when you opened the safe.” Jungkook explained, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“But I was with him the whole time.”

Jungkook gripped your face with a cold and hard glare and said lowly for her to only hear, “Maybe he did it while you were putting your clothes back on.”

Taehyung struggled and looked at you with desperation, “They put it in my pocket, (Y/n)!”

Lovejoy scoffed and looked at the tag of the coat, “It’s not even your coat. Property of A.L Reyson” He read and gave the coat to the Masters at Arms. There is a label inside the collar with the owner’s name. 

“This was reported stolen today”

Taehyung looked at him then at you with anguish, “I was going to return it! (Y/n)–!” 

You looked away from Taehyung, feeling betrayed, hurt, and confused. You moved away from him and closer to Jungkook. Taehyung shook his head, frowning at your action. He started shouting for you as Lovejoy and the Master at Arms drag him out into the hall. You can’t look him in the eye.

“(Y/n)! Don’t listen to them! I didn’t do it! You know I didn’t do it! You know it!”

You were devastated, hearing his voice made you want to believe Taehyung but the evidence being displayed right in front of you was too much. Your mother walked towards you, laying a hand on your shoulder. You cried, hiding your face in your hands. Jungkook placed a warm hand on the small of your back, making you flinch a bit.

“It’s a good thing Jungkook was quick on his feet or you’ll just fall even more for that rat’s tricks, (Y/n)” 

For a couple of moments, you have been sat down, tired from all the crying and happening altogether. From the inside, you could still hear all the shouting and fumbling outside. (M/n) looked at you then to Jungkook as she stood up.

“I better go get dressed. Jungkook look after her for me.” With that, your mother went out of the room. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened, you winced. He suddenly stood up, facing you as you looked up at him in confusion. A sudden force made you look to the side, the sharp sting on your cheek burned. Jungkook has slapped you. You cradled your cheek and looked at him, he was fuming. Eyes colder than anything you saw. 

“If you haven’t been such a little slut, this wouldn’t have happened! If you just honored me–!” He cut himself off then gripped your shoulders tightly.

“This is all your fault, (Y/n).” 

Before Jungkook could continue, there was a loud knock on the door and an urgent voice. The door opened and their steward puts his head in, looking at Jungkook.

“Sir, I’ve been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelt, and come up to the boat deck.”

Jungkook glowered at him, “Get out. We’re busy.”

The steward persisted though, coming in to get the lifebelts down from the top of a dresser.

“I’m sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. Jeon, but it’s Captain’s orders. Please dress warmly, it’s quite cold tonight.”

He then turned to you and gave you the lifebelt, “Not to worry miss, I’m sure it’s just a precaution.” The steward said 

Jungkook snatched the other lifebelt from him and scoffed, “This is ridiculous.”

After it, Jungkook’s entourage comes up to the A-deck foyer. He was carrying the lifebelts, almost as an afterthought. You were dazed like a sleepwalker, following Jungkook.

“It’s just the God damned English doing everything by the book.” The young Jeon hissed out, looking around. (M/n) looked at him and scolded, “No need for such language, Mr.Jeon.” then turned to Trudy, “Go back and turn the heater on in my room, so it won’t be too cold when we get back.”

The maid nodded and went back to the room.  Andrews entered, looking around the magnificent room, which he knows was doomed. You, standing nearby, saw his heartbroken expression. You walked over to him and Jungkook goes after you, an untrusting look on his face. 

“I saw the iceberg, Mr. Andrews. And I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth.” You said to the older man. Andrews looked at you with such sad eyes.

“The ship will sink.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, the truth still hard to swallow even if you knew it.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes. In an hour or so… all this… will be at the bottom of the Atlantic.”

“My God.” Now it is Jungkook’s turn to look stunned. The Titanic? Sinking?

“Please tell only who you must, I don’t want to be responsible for a panic. And get to a boat quickly. Don’t wait. You remember what I told you about the boats?” Andrews said, a small sad smile on his face

Yes, I understand. Thank you.”

Andrews goes off, moving among the passengers and urging them to put on their lifebelts and get to the boats. Jungkook grabbed your arm, pulling you to him. Now that he knows that the ship will sink, he became anxious. 

“Let’s go, (Y/n)”

On the side of the deck outside, the violinist raised his violin to play, looking at his fellow musicians.

“Number 26. Ready and–” The band has reassembled just outside the First Class Entrance, port side, near where the steward was calling for the boats to be loaded. They strike up a waltz, lively and elegant. The music wafts all over the ship.

Jungkook, you and your mother came out of the doors near the band and saw the stewards lowering the boats.

“Right! Start the loading. Women and children!” The appalling din of escaping steam abruptly cuts off, leaving a sudden unearthly silence in which his voice echoes.

“Ladies, please. Step into the boat.” He ushered.

Finally, one woman steps across the gap, into the boat, terrified of the drop to the water far below. One woman from the crowd scoffed at the action and spoke to the person beside her

“You watch. They’ll put us off in these silly little boats to freeze, and we’ll all be back on board by breakfast.”

“My brooch, I left my brooch. I must have it!” Your mother remembered, about to go inside.

She turns back to go to her room but Jungkook takes her by the arm, refusing to let her go. The firmness of his hold surprised her. 

“Stay here, (M/n)” Jungkook said

Your mother saw his expression and knows fear for the first time.

Lovejoy and the Master at Arms were handcuffing Taehyung to a 4-inch water pipe as a crewman rushed in anxiously and almost blurts to the Master at Arms–

“You’re wanted by the Purser, sir. Urgently.”

“Go on. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Lovejoy said and pulls a pearl-handled Colt .45 automatic from under his coat. The Master at Arms nods and tossed the handcuff key to Lovejoy, then exits with the crewman. Lovejoy flips the key in the air, catching it.

Taehyng sat, chained to the water pipe, next to the porthole. Lovejoy sits on the edge of a desk. He puts a .45 bullet on the desk and watches it roll across and fall off. He picks up the bullet.

“You know… I believe this ship may sink.” He said, walking closer to Taehyung. 

“I’ve been asked to give you this small token of our appreciation…” Then suddenly landed a hard punch on his stomach, knocking the wind out of Taehyung.

“Compliments from Mr. Jeon Jungkook.“ Lovejoy flips the handcuff key in the air, catching it and put it in his pocket. He exits the room leaving Taehyung gasping, handcuffed to the pipe.

The Lightoller was filling up the boat closest to Jungkook and you as you two watched the commotion.

“Women and children only! Sorry sir, no men yet.” This scared the people on the ship, muttering among themselves.

You watched the farewells taking place right in front of you as they step closer to the boat. Husbands saying goodbye to wives and children. Lovers and friends parted. Nearby Molly was getting a reluctant woman to board the boat.

“Come on, you heard the man. Get in the boat, sister.” 

“Will the lifeboats be seated according to class? I hope they’re not too crowded-“ (M/n) started 

“Oh Mother, shut up!” (M/n) freezes at your words, looking at you with surprise.

“Don’t you understand? The water is freezing and there aren’t enough boats… not enough by half. Half the people on this ship are going to die.” You continued, glaring at her.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at your outburst, “Not the better half anyway.”

His words struck you like lightning. Taehyung was in the third class, Jimin and Yoongi too. They don’t stand a chance. You glared at Jungkook and spat out, “You unimaginable bastard.“

“Come on, (M/n), get in the boat. These are the first-class seats right up here.” Molly said, practically hands her over to Lightoller, then looks around for some other women who might need a push. She then turned to you, “Come on, (Y/n). You’re next, darlin’.” 

You looked at Molly then to your mother but all that occupied your mind was Taehyung. You shook your head making your mother stand up in disbelief and anxiousness.

“(Y/n), get in the boat this instant!” (M/n) shouted, her eyes screaming of fear in what you will do next. She can’t lose you too.

“Goodbye, mother.” You said running back. Jungkook grabbed your arm but you pulled free and walks away through the crowd. Jungkook though catches up to you and grabbing you again, roughly.

“Where are you going? To him? Is that it? To be a whore to that gutter rat?” Jungkook mocked, a scowl appearing on his face.

You stood your ground, glaring back at him, “I’d rather be his whore than your wife.” 

He clenched his jaw and squeezed your arm viciously, pulling you back toward the lifeboat. But you pulled out a hairpin and jabs his hand with it. he lets go with a curse and you run into the crowd. 

“Lower away!” The Lightoller said

“(Y/n)! (Y/N)!” (M/n) shouted, seeing you run back inside the ship.

“Stuff a sock in it, would ya, (M/n). She’ll be along.” Molly reassured, pulling her back to sit down.

You run through the clusters of people, wanting to lose Jungkook. You looked back and a furious Jungkook coming after you, your eyes widened. You ran breathlessly up to two proper looking men.

“That man tried to take advantage of me in the crowd!” You said, pointing to Jungkook.

Appalled, they turn to see Jungkook running toward them. You ran again as the two men grab Jungkook, restraining him. You run through the First Class entrance.

When Jungkook broke free, he runs after you again. He reached the entrance but runs into a knot of people coming out. He pushes rudely through them. 

Jungkook got in, and down to the landing, pushing past the gentlemen and ladies who are filling up the stairs. He scans the A-deck foyer but you were already gone.

Taehyung pulled on the pipe with all his strength but it was not budging. He hears a gurgling sound, he looked down and saw water pouring under the door, spreading rapidly across the floor.

“Shit”

He tried to pull one hand out of the cuffs, working until the skin was raw… but to no good. 

“Help!! Somebody!! Can anybody hear me?!” He shouted, looking at the closed door with a scowl. 

“This is going to be bad.” He muttered to himself.

The corridor outside was already deserted. Flooded a couple of inches deep. Taehyung’s voice comes faintly through the door, but there was no one to hear it.

In the first-class corridor, Andrews was opening stateroom doors, checking if the people are out.

“Anyone in here?” He called out then you appeared, disheveled.

“Thank God, Mr. Andrews! Where would the Master at Arms take someone under arrest?!”

The older male looked at you like you were crazy and by the looks of it, it was no where far from it.

“What? You have to get to a boat right away!” 

“No! I’ll do this with or without your help, sir. But without will take longer.” You said, looking at him hopefully. The older man sighed, beat.

“Take the elevator to the very bottom, go left, down the crewman’s passage, then make a right.”

“Bottom, left, right. I have it.” You said, running off

“Hurry, (Y/n)!”

You run up as the last Elevator Operator who was closing up his lift to leave. The man saw you rush towards him and said, “Sorry, miss, lifts are closed–”

Without thinking, you grabbed his collar and shoved him inside. “I’m through with being polite, goddamnit!! Now take me down!!”

The operator nodded, scared, and quickly closed the gates and started the lift.

Through the wrought-iron door of the elevator car, you can see the decks going past. The lift slows. Suddenly ice-cold water is swirling around your legs. You screamed in surprise and so does the operator.

The car has landed in a foot of freezing water, shocking the hell out of you. You clawed the door open and splashes out, hiking up your floor-length skirt so you can move. The lift goes back up, behind you, as you look around.

“Left, crew passage” You muttered to yourself. Spotting it and you slogged down the flooded corridor. The place is understandably deserted. You were on your own.

“Right, right… right.”  You turned into a cross-corridor, splashing down the hall. A row of doors on each side.

“Taehyung?! Where are you! Taehyung!” 

Taehyung who was hopelessly pulling on the pipe again, straining until he turns red. He collapses back on the bench. realizing he was screwed but then he hears you through the door.

“(Y/n)?… (Y/N)!! I’m here!” 

You heard his voice behind you. As you spin and run back, locating the right door, then pushing it open, creating a small wave. You splashed over Taehyung and wrapping your arms around him.

“Taehyung! Taehyung, I’m so sorry!”

 Taehyung nuzzled his face on top of your crown, sighing in relief. He then moved a bit away from you and looked at you, “That Lovejoy guy put it in my pocket”

“I know.. I know, Tae”

He smiled at you but then the gurgle of water snapped him out of it. Looking at the rising water then back at you, “See if you can find a key for these. Try those drawers. It’s a little brass one.”

You kissed his face and hugged him again, then started to go through the desk. Looking around the desks and drawers.

“So… how did you find out I didn’t do it?”

“I didn’t. I just realized that I already knew it.”

You two shared a look, then you went back to ransacking the room, searching drawers and cupboards. Taehyung sees movement out the porthole and looks out, a lifeboat hits the surface of the water, seen from below.

You stopped trashing the room, and stood there, breathing hard. Looking at Taehyung and said, “There’s no key”

They look around at the water, now almost two feet deep. Taehyung has pulled his feet up onto the bench then looked back at you, “Go find help”

You nodded, “I’ll be right back!”

“I’ll wait here…” Taehyung said, looking at the swirling water then at the cuffs. You run out, looking back at him once from the doorway, then splashes away, water hindering your movements. 

You splash down the hall to a stairwell going up to the next deck. Climbing the stairs, your long skirt leaving a trail like a giant snail. The weight of it was really slowing you down. You ripped at the buttons and shimmied quickly out of the thing. You bound up the stairs in your stockings and knee-length slip, to find yourself in a long corridor, part of the labyrinth of steerage hallways forward. You were alone here. A long groan of stressing metal echoes along the hall as the ship continues to settle. You run down the hall, unimpeded now.

“Hello?! Somebody!” 

You turned into the corner and runs along another corridor in a daze. The hall slopes down into water which, shimmering, reflecting the light. The margin of the water creeps toward you. A young man appeared, running through the water, sending up geysers of spray. He pelts past you without slowing, his eyes crazed…

“Please help me! We need help!”

He doesn’t look back. It is like a bad dream. The lights flickered and gone out, leaving utter darkness. A beat. Then they come back on. You find yourself hyperventilating. That one moment of blackness was the most terrifying of your life.

A steward then runs around the nearest corner, his arms full of lifebelts. He was upset to see someone still in his section. He grabs you forcefully by the arm, pulling you with him like a wayward child.

“Come on, then, let’s get you topside, miss.” 

“Wait! I need your help! There’s–!”

“No need for panic, miss. Come along!”

“No! We’re going the wrong way!”

He wasn’t listening to you and he didn’t let his grip falter with every step. You grind your teeth in anger. You shouted in his ear making him look at you and when he turned around you socked him straight in his nose. Shocked, he lets you go and staggered back, cradling his bleeding nose.

He glared at you, “Oh to hell with you!” 

“See you there, buster!”

You spat after him as he runs away, holding his nose. You spat at him, just like how Taehyung taught you.

You turned around, saw a glass case with a fire-ax in it. You broke the glass with a battered suitcase which is lying discarded nearby and seizes the ax, running back the way Taehyung is. At the stairwell, you looked down and gasped. The water rose and flooded the bottom five steps already. You went down and had to crouch to look to the corridor to the room where Taehyung was trapped.

You plunged into the water without hesitation, the water up to your waist… and powered forward, holding the ax above your head in two hands. You winced at the pain from the literally freezing water.

Taehyung has climbed up on the bench and was hugging the waterpipe. You waddled in, holding the ax above your head. Taehyung would’ve laughed at the sight of you but now was not the time. 

“Will this work?”

“One way to find out”

You two were both terrified but trying to keep panic at bay, he positioned the chain connecting the two cuffs, stretching it taut across the steel pipe. The chain is of course very short, and his exposed wrists are on either side of it.

“Try a couple practice swings.”

You heft the ax and thunks it into a wooden cabinet. Heaving as you pulled it off.

“Okay, now try hitting the same spot again,” Taehyung instructed. You nodded and swings hard. The blade thunked in four inches from the mark. Taehyung nodded and gestured you to the cuff.

“Okay, that’s enough practice”

He winced, bracing himself as you raised the ax. You had to hit a target about an inch wide with all the force you can muster, with his hands on either side. You gulped, looking at Taehyung with worry.

“You can do it, (Y/n). Hit it as hard as you can, I trust you.” Taehyung said, trying to sound calm. He closed his eyes and so does you as you swing down.

THUNK! 

You opened your eyes, gingerly and saw Taehyung smiling at you with two broken cuffs. You dropped the ax, your strength leaving you because of the terrifying moment.

“Nice work, there, Paul Bunyan. But next time let’s not close our eyes before hitting, yeah?” Taehyung teased with a smile. He climbed down into the water next to you. He can’t breathe for a second. 

“Shit! Excuse my French, love. But that’s cold!” Taehyung winced at the cold water. You sighed in relief then he grabbed your hand in his, “Let’s go”

You two wade out into the hall. You started toward the stairs going up, but Taehyung stopped you. There was only about a foot of the stairwell opening visible. “Too deep. We gotta find another way out.”

The widest passageway in the ship, it is used by crew and steerage alike and runs almost the length of the ship. Right now steerage passengers move along it like refugees, heading aft. The wooden doorframe splinters and the door bursts open under the force of Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung and you stumbled through, into the corridor. A steward, who was nearby herding people along, marches over.

“Hey, you! You know you have to pay for that! That’s–”

“Shut up!” You two yelled at him, running off.

Taehyung leads you past the dumbfounded steward. You two joined the steerage stragglers going aft. In places, the corridor was almost completely blocked by large families carrying all their luggage. A woman gave you a blanket, more for modesty than because you were blue-lipped and shivering.

“Here, lass, cover yourself.” 

Taehyung rubs your arms and trying to warm you up as you two walk along. The woman’s husband offers you a flask of whiskey.

“This will take the chill off.” He said as you took the flask and gulped down quickly. You then offered some to Taehyung who grinned down at you and follows suit.  Taehyung tried numbers of doors and iron gates along the way, finding them all locked, he cursed under his breath.

With Jungkook, he scanned the crowds for any sign of you. He grinds his teeth at that then looked at Lovejoy who rushed towards him through the aisle connecting the port and starboard sides of the boat deck.

“She’s not on the starboard side either,” Lovejoy informed.

“We’re running out of time. And this strutting martinet… And they’re not letting men in” Jungkook muttered, watching the Lightoller.

“The other side is letting men in, sir”

“Then that’s our play. But we’re still going to need some insurance. Come on” Jungkook said, going to the other side with Lovejoy following him.

 Below the deck, Jimin was with Helga and her family, waiting for the stewards to open the damn gate. Yoongi was also waiting on the stairs. After a while, Jimin heard Taehyung’s voice calling out.

“Jimin! Jiminie!” 

Jimin stood up and saw Taehyung with you running towards him. He met Taehyung halfway and embraced him like his brother.

“Where were you? I was worried sick!”

“Jimin we have to get out or we’ll be gurgling salt-water in a couple of minutes. Where’s Yoongi?”

Jimin pointed to the stairs and Taehyung saw him, pushing the iron-gates with a glare. The stewards went up to him and shouted, “Women and children only! No men!”

The terrified men who did not understand what they were saying pushed the gates. The stewards closed it, with a huff. 

“Lock it!” One ordered as they locked the iron-gate. Yoongi growled at them, “What the fuck are you doing, ya bastard! There are children down here! Let us up, so we can have a chance!”

But the crewmen are scared now. They have let the situation get out of hand, and now they have a mob. Yoongi gave up and pushes his way back through the crowd, going down the stairs. He rejoins Taehyung, you and Jimin.

“It’s hopeless that way.” Yoongi huffed, glaring at the direction he was at earlier.

“Well, whatever we’re goin’ to do, we better do it fast,” Taehyung said. Jimin turned to Helga and gestured to him and his group, hoping the young woman understands him

“Helga, come with me. I am lucky, I can get you out of here along with your family” He said but Helga shook her head, kissing him one last time she then moved back to her family. Jimin looked at her sorrowfully, “I’ll never forget you.”

He turns to Taehyung, who leads the way out of the crowd. Looking back, Jimin sees her face disappear into the crowd. He looked face forward again, focusing on getting out.

In the suite of Jungkook and you, Jungkook opens his safe and reaches inside. As Lovejoy watches, he pulls out two stacks of bills, still banded by bank wrappers. Then he takes out “Heart of the Ocean”, putting it in the pocket of his overcoat, and locks the safe.

“I make my own luck.” He muttered. Jungkook turned to Lovejoy who nodded at him and put his .45 revolver in his waistband, “So do I”.

Jungkook smirked at his loyal servant and nodded, putting his money in his pocket.

Taehyung, you, Jimin, and Yoongi were lost, searching for a way out. You four pushed past confused passengers… past a mother changing her baby’s diaper on top of an upturned steamer trunk… past a woman arguing heatedly with a man in Serbo-Croatian, a wailing child next to them… past a man kneeling to console a woman who is just sitting on the floor, sobbing… and past another man with an English/Arabic dictionary, trying to figure out what the signs mean, while his wife and children wait patiently.

You all came upon a narrow stairwell and gone up two decks before you were stopped by a small group pressed up against a steel gate. The steerage men are yelling at a scared steward.

“Go to the main stairwell, with everyone else. It’ll all get sorted out there.”

Taehyung watched the same scene and loses it, “ God damn it to Hell son of a bitch!!”

He grabs one end of a bench bolted to the floor on the landing. He started pulling on it, and Yoongi and Jimin pitched in until the bolts shear and it breaks free. You figured out what they are doing and cleared a path up the stairs between the waiting people.

“Move aside! Quickly!”

Taehyung and Yoongi run up the steps with the bench and rammed it into the gate with all their strength, it rips loose from its track and falls outward, narrowly missing the steward. Led by Taehyung, the crowd surges though. You stepped up to the cowering steward and says in your most imperious tone: 

“If you have any intention of keeping your pathetic job with the White Star Line, I suggest you escort these good people to the boat deck… now.” 

The scared steward nodded dumbly and motioned them to follow. You all burst out onto the boat deck from the crew stairs just aft of the third funnel. You looked at the empty davits.

“The boats are gone!”

You then see Colonel Namjoon escorting two scared women out of the room. You quickly run up to him, “Colonel! Are there any boats left?”

Namjoon looked at your bedraggled state with wide eyes and nodded, “Yes, miss… there are still a couple of boats all the way forward. This way, I’ll lead you!” 

Taehyung grabbed your hand as you all run out. Outside the band was still playing music on the side of the deck. They run by them with Yoongi looking at them weirdly, “Music to drown by. Now, I know I’m in the first-class.” He said sarcastically

The crowd is sparse, with most people still aft. Jungkook slips his hand out of the pocket of his overcoat and into the waist pocket of Murdoch’s greatcoat, leaving the stacks of bills there.

“Now, we have an understanding then?”

Murdoch nodded curtly, “As you’ve said”

Lovejoy then moved up to Jungkook and whispered to his ear, “I have found her. She’s just over the portside She is with him” 

Jungkook’s eyes widened and looked at Lovejoy then to Murdoch. The latter was looking around fakely, “Any more women and children? None?” He said and looked at Jungkook as if hinting that he can go to the boat now.

Jungkook looked at his boat longly. This was it. He can be saved. This was his moment of truth.

“Goddammit to hell! Come on!” He growled and walked away from the boats and to where you were. He and Lovejoy head for the port side, taking a short-cut through the bridge.

On the port side,  Lightoller is getting people into the boat. He keeps his pistol in his hand. Twenty feet below them the sea is pouring into the doors and windows of B deck staterooms. They can hear the roar of water cascading into the ship.

“Women and children! Only women and children! Step back, sir!” The Lightollet said, pushing the men away from the boat. Even with Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you, you were still shivering in the cold. Taehyung looked around the place, frowning at the porters. His eyes then met Yoongi’s and Jimin’s.

“You better check out the other side” 

Jimin frowned a bit but the two nodded. “Once this is over, let’s not ride any more ships, Taehyungie.”

Taehyung smiled a bit at Jimin as the two-run to the other side, leaving you and Taehyung alone with the other people.

You looked up from his arms and said with a frown, “I’m not going without you.”

Taehyung shook his head, “Get in the boat, (Y/n)”

“Yes, get in the boat, (Y/n).” The familiar voice of your fiance called out from behind you. You gasped and whipped around and saw Jungkook glaring at Taehyung with Lovejoy not far behind him. Jungkook’s eyes went to you and it widened at your appearance. You were there standing, shivering in your wet slip and stockings, a shocking display in 1912.

“My God, what happened to you. Here..”

Jungkook pulled you to him, removing his coat and draped it around you. Taehyung frowning at this but did not say anything.

You let him put his coat on you, the cold air was not something you welcomed right now. 

“Hurry, ladies! Step into the boat! Hurry!” The Lightoller shouted again.

“Go on. I’ll get the next one.” Taehyung said. You shook your head, looking at him

“No! Not without you!” 

You didn’t even care that Jungkook was there. He watched you two with clenched jaw, fury, and jealousy swirling inside him. Jungkook leaned down to you and whispered lowly so you three were the only one can hear it.

“There are boats on the other side that are allowing men in. Taehyung and I can get off safely. Both of us.”

Taehyung smiled reassuringly at you and nodded towards Jungkook, “See, I’ll be alright. Now get in the boat, we have our own boat to get to”

“Get in. Hurry, it’s almost full” Jungkook ushered you, looking at the boat.

The Lightollet grabbed your arm and pulled you in the boat. You reached out to Taehyung, your fingers brushing against his for a second then you found yourself stepping inside the boat. Everything was blurry and time felt too fast. 

“Lower away!” 

The two men watched you as the boat descended. You looked up at them with tears streaks in your cheeks.

“You’re a good liar” Jungkook whispered lowly at Taehyung

“Not as good as you” Taehyung replied, still looking at you. 

Jungkook looked at Taehyung from the corner of his eyes then back at you, “I always win, Taehyung. One way or another.” Then he fully turned to him with a smile. 

“Pity I didn’t keep that drawing. It’s going to be worth a lot more by morning.” Jungkook added, sneering at him and went away. 

Taehyung didn’t reply, still looking at you. He didn’t want to waste any second looking away from you. This was his last sight of you, he wouldn’t waste it.  The ropes going through the pulleys as the seamen started to lower. All sound going away. Lightoller giving orders, his lips moving, but you only heard the blood pounding in your ears… this cannot be happening… a rocket burst above in slow-motion, outlining Taehyung in a halo of light making him look painfully ethereal… Your hair was blowing with the wind as you gaze up at him, descending away from him… you saw his hand trembling, the tears at the corners of his eyes as he gazed at you with such sadness, and you just couldn’t. 

Your tears rolled down your cheeks, you continued to look at him. Then you suddenly lunges for the railing close to you, getting out of the boat. The people screamed at you, scared and surprised at your actions. You scrambled to go over the railing as the boat you were just in descended without you. You were back in the Titanic.

“No, (Y/N)! No!!” Taehyung shouted and quickly run towards the A-deck you landed. Jungkook also saw you jump and he was absolutely furious and in disbelief. You were so willing to die for this man, that gutter scum. He was overwhelmed with rage, all thought going away except for that one fact.

Taehyung runs quickly as possible to the A-deck, banging through the doors and sprints to the stairs. He saw you, also running towards him.

You two met at the bottom of the stairs as you collided into a tight embrace. Taehyung pulled away, grabbing your face with his hands, looking at you with tears in his eyes. He kissed you repeatedly, scolding you at the same time.

“Why did you do that, (Y/n)? You’re so stupid! You’re so stupid…” Taehyung kissed you, you felt the desperation and tears in his kiss. You looked at him, breaking the kiss. You smiled through your tears. 

“You jump, I jump, right?” 

Taehyung leaned his forehead on yours, the adrenaline still kicking in his body, “Right.” 

Jungkook came in and runs to the railing. Looking down, he sees you two locked in an embrace. Lovejoy comes up behind Jungkook and puts a restraining hand on him, but he whips around, grabbing the pistol from Lovejoy’s waistband in one swift move.

He ran along the rail and down the stairs. As he reaches the landing above them he raised the gun. Screaming in rage, he fired the gun.

The carved cherub at the foot of the center railing exploded. Taehyung pulled you towards the stairs going down to the next deck. He fires again, running down the steps toward them. A bullet blows a divet out of the oak paneling just behind Taehyung’s head as he pulls you down the next flight of stairs.

Jungkook steps on the skittering head of the cherub statue and tripped, going down the floor with the gun clatters across the marble floor. He gets up, and reeling drunkenly goes over to retrieve it.

The bottom of the grand staircase is flooded several feet deep. you and Taehyung came down the stairs two at a time and run straight into the water, fording across the room to where the floor slopes up until you two reach dry footing at the entrance to the dining saloon.

Jungkook reels down the stairs in time to see Taehyung and his fiance splashing through the water toward the dining saloon. He fires twice. Big gouts of spray near them, but he’s not a great shot.

The water boils up around his feet and he retreats up the stairs a couple of steps. Around him the woodward groans and creaks. He whipped his head to where you two were running off, “Fine! Enjoy your time together while you can!”

Lovejoy arrives and stopped beside Jungkook. The latter then remembered something and laughed angrily. Lovejoy watched him with surprise, “What’s so funny?”

Jungkook sneered and looked at him, “I put the diamond in my coat. And I put the coat on her!”

Then he got an idea, he looked at Lovejoy with a sick look on his face, he grinned, “If you can get it, I’ll give it to you”

Jungkook handed the pistol back to Lovejoy and went back upstairs. Lovejoy thought about it for a  moment then dove into the water. Water up to his waist.

Lovejoy moves among the tables and ornate columns, searching… listening… his eyes tracking rapidly. It was a sea of tables, and they could be anywhere. A silver serving trolley rolls downhill, bumping into tables and pillars.

He glances behind him. The water is following him into the room, advancing in a hundred-foot wide tide. The reception room is now a roiling lake, and the grand staircase is submerged past the first landing. Monstrous groans echo through the ship.

The two of you crouched behind a table, somewhere in the middle. You see the water advancing toward you two, swirling over the floor. The two of you crawled ahead of it to the next row of tables.

Taehyung looked at you and whispered, “Stay here” He moves off as Lovejoy moves over one row and looks along with the tables. Nothing.

A cart rolls toward you and it hits a table and the stacks of dishes toppled out, exploding across the floor and showering you. You scrambled out of the way and Lovejoy spins, seeing you. He moves rapidly toward you, keeping the gun aimed– but Taehyung tackled him from the side, they slammed into each other then towards the table. Crashing over it and toppling to the floor, landing in the water. 

Taehyung and Lovejoy grappled in the icy water with Taehyung ramming his knee down on Lovejoy’s hand, breaking his grip on the pistol, and kicks it away. Lovejoy scrambles up and lunges at him, but Taehyung punched him in the gut, right in the solar plexus, causing the taller man to double over.

“Compliments from the Daegu Kims.” He said, panting then slammed Lovejoy to the ornate column, making him slump into it, stunned.

“Let’s go!” Taehyung grabbed your hand and you two run off. You two run through the galley and you spot the stairs. You started to go up but Taehyung grabbed your hand and leads you down.

You two crouch together on the landing as Lovejoy runs to the stairs. Assuming you have gone up (who wouldn’t?), he climbs up two at a time.

You two waited for the footstep to disappear. A long creaking groan. Then you hear it, a crying child. Below you, then you two gone down a few steps to look along the next deck.

The corridor is was awash, about a foot deep. Standing against the wall, about 50 feet away from you was a little boy, about 3. The water swirls around his legs and he was wailing. 

“We can’t just leave him,” You said and Taehyung nodded. He scooped up the kid and they run back to the stairs but there was a torrent of water coming out, pouring down the stairs rapidly. It was too powerful for them to go against.

“Come on” Taehyung gestured to you.

Charging to the other way down the flooding corridor, they blast up the spray with each footstep. At the end of the hall are heavy double doors. As Taehyung approached them he sees water spraying through the gap between the doors right up to the ceiling. The doors groan and start to crack under the tons of pressure.

“Back! Go back!” He said, alarmed. You pivot and go to where you came from, taking a turn to the cross-corridor. You saw a man coming the other way. He sees the boy in Taehyung’s arms and cries out, grabbing him away from Taehyung. He started cursing him in Russian. He then runs to the side with the boy–

“Wait! No, not that way! Come back!” You shouted after them. The double doors blasted open, a wall of water thunders into the corridor. The father and child disappear instantly.

You two run as a wave blasts around the corner, foaming from floor to ceiling, racing towards you. It gains on you two like a locomotive. The two of you made it to a stairway going up. You two go up the stairs, the white water catching up to them. On top of the stairs was the iron-gate, Taehyung slammed against it. It was locked.

A terrified steward standing guard on the landing above turns to run at the sight of the water thundering up the stairs.

“Wait! Please help us! Unlock the gate!” Taehyung called out but the stewards ignored him, running up the stairs.

The water wells up around you and Taehyung, pouring through the gate and slamming you two against it. In seconds it is up to your waist.

“Please! Help us!” You called out, stopping the steward on his tracks and looked back at you two, the water pouring in rapidly.

“Fuckin’ hell” He muttered and raced back down. He pulls a key ring from his belt and struggled to unlock the padlock as the water fountains up around them. The lights shorted out and the place was plunged into darkness. The water rose over the lock and the steward was doing it by felling through it.

“Come on! Come on!” Taehyung shouted, looking behind them. Suddenly the gate swings open and they were being pushed through by the force of the water. You made it to stairs on the other side of the landing and followed the steward up to the next deck. You two run-up to the seemingly neverending stairs.

Murdoch, at the other side of the ship, was no longer in control. The crowd was threatening to rush the boat. They push and jostle, yelling and shouting at the officers. The pressure from behind pushes them forward, and one guy falls off the edge of the deck into the water less than ten feet below.

“Give us a chance to live, you fucking bastards!” Yoongi shouted but Murdoch fired his Webley twice in the air, then points it at the crowd.

“Stand back! I’ll shoot any man who tries to get past me!” He shouted back, looking at the crowd. Jungkook sneered at the man and stepped towards him, “We had a damn deal!”

Murdoch pushes him and points his gun to Jungkook and shoved his other hand in his pocket, throwing Jungkook’s money towards him, “Keep your damn money! Get back!”

The man behind Yoongi pushed him, shoving him forward. Muldoch saw the movement and shoot blindly, hitting Yoongi right in his chest. He collapsed, Jimin grabbing him before he can hit the ground. Jimin looked at Muldoch with disbelief and a hard glare, tears threatening to spill. 

“You fucking bastard! How could you!” Jimin yelled as he hugged Yoongi close to his chest. The younger man looked at him, his tears hitting Yoongi’s cheek. Jimin watched as Yoongi’s life slowly fade away from his eyes.

“Yoongi… Yoongi-hyung…” Jimin called out, his sobs escaping him. Yoongi used his last strength and laugh lowly, “You finally called me hyung, you little brat…”

Jimin watched as his friend slowly dies in his arms, the latter’s blood staining his skin. Jimin tried to deny reality and shook Yoongi softly, “Hyung?… Please no… You have to wake up, you shouldn’t sleep here. We have to go… I’m going to be a millionaire and I’ll get you the fanciest bedroom… s-so please wake up.”

But Yoongi didn’t answer him.

Jungkook and Muldoch watched the scene in horror as the latter turned to his men and saluted smartly. With a swift press, he shot himself in the head. He drops like a puppet that it’s strings got cut and topples over the edge of the boat deck into the water only a few feet below. Jungkook stared at nothing in horror because the man was just a couple of feet across him, his blood splattered across the air, the smell filling him.

Jungkook’s eyes looked down at the water, fear, and dread filling him as he watched Muldoch’s body bobbing in the dark water. The crew then rushes the last few women to the boat, trying to push past the reality to the back of their brains.

“Any more women or children?” 

Jungkook snapped out of it and looked around. He then saw a lost young girl who was crying in the middle of the chaos. He ground his teeth and scooped her up in his arms. 

“Here’s a child! I’ve got a child! Please I’m all she has in this world” Jungkook said to the steward and he nodded, pushing them boat onto the boat. He sat down with the child in his arms. Jungkook looked at Jimin and Yoongi still on the floor, ‘too bad, you have such terrible luck’

Thomas Andrews stood in front of the fireplace, staring at the large painting above the mantle. The fire was still lit in the fireplace.

The room was empty except for Andrews. Behind him, You and Taehyung run into the room, out of breath and soaked. They run through, toward the aft revolving door… then you recognized him. You saw that his lifebelt was off, lying on a table.

“Mr. Andrews? Won’t you even make a try for it?” You asked softly. A lone tear slips to his cheek. The older man smiled bitterly, “I’m sorry I didn’t build a stronger ship for you, young (Y/n)”

“It’s going fast. We have to go” Taehyung whispered to you and you nodded. Andrews then gave you his lifebelt and smiled.

“Good luck to you, (Y/n)” You hugged him and said, “And to you too, Mr. Andrews”

Taehyung pulled you away and you two went out of the room through the revolving door. You two run out and into a dense crowd. Taehyung pushed his way to the rail and looked at the state of the ship. The bridge was underwater and there is chaos on deck. The red-haired male helped you put your lifebelt on. People stream around you, shouting and pushing.

“Okay… we keep moving. We have to stay on the ship as long as possible.” Taehyung said and dragged you with him after securing you into the lifebelt. You two moved past through the panicking crowd.

On the port side, collapsible B was picked up by water. Working frantically, the men tried to detach it from the falls so the ship won’t drag it under. Colonel Namjoon hands the  Lightoller a pocket knife and he saws furiously at the ropes as the water swirls around his legs. The boat, still upside down, was being swept off the ship. Men start diving in, swimming to stay with it.

Jungkook sat next to the wailing child, whom he has completely forgotten. He watched the water rising around the men as they work, scrambling to get the ropes cut so the ship won’t drag the collapsible under.

Jimin looked at the rising water and tried to carry Yoongi with him, moving away from the water. He slumps and saw a stray lifebelt and quickly put it on as the water raised around him.

The part of the ship then plunges to the water, partially swamping the boat, washing it along the deck. Over a hundred passengers were plunged into the freezing water and the area around the boat becomes a frenzy of splashing, screaming people.

As men were trying to climb into the collapsible, Jungkook grabbed an oar and pushed them back into the water.

“Stop! Get away! You’ll swamp us!”

Jimin, swimming for his life, gets swirled under a davit. The ropes and pulleys tangle around him as the davit goes under the water, and he was dragged down. He struggles to free himself and then kicks back to the surface. He surfaces, gasping for air in the freezing water. He then looked around, alarmed.

“Yoongi-hyung?! Where are you?!” Trying to swim in the cold water, he looked around the freezing ocean.

Collapsible A is whirled like a leaf in the currents around the sinking ship. It slams against the side of the forward funnel. Jungkook growled at the people.

“Row! Row, you bastards!” He shouted to the crew on the boat. Jimin was drawn up against the grating of a vent as water poured through it. The force of tons of water roaring down the ship trapped him against it, and he was being dragged down under the surface as the ship sinks. He struggles to free himself but cannot. Suddenly there was a concussion deep in the bowels of the ship as a furnace exploded and a blast of hot air belches out of the ventilator, ejecting Jimin. He surfaces in a roar of foam and kept swimming, tired and cold.

You and Taehyung clambered over the A-Deck aft rail then, using all his strength, he lowers you toward the deck below, holding on with one hand. You dangled for a bit, then falls. Taehyung jumps down behind you. They join a crush of people literally clawing and scrambling over each other to get down the narrow stairs to the well deck… the only way aft.

Seeing that the stairs are impossible, Taehyung climbs over the B-Deck railing and helps you over. He lowers you again, and you fall in a heap. Seokjin, now three sheets to the wind, happens to be next to you. He hauls you to your feet. Taehyung drops down and the three of you push through the crowd across the well deck. Near you, at the rail, people were jumping into the cold water.

The ship groans and shudders, scaring the people on board. The man ahead of Taehyung was walking like a zombie.

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death–” Taehyung heard and tried to walk past him

“You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, fella?” He scoffed and squeezing through the man, dragging you with him

The stay cables along the top of the funnel snapped, and they lash like steel whips down into the water. Jungkook watched as the funnel topples from its mounts in shock. Falling like a temple pillar twenty-eight feet across it whomps into the water with a tremendous splash. People swimming underneath it disappear in an instant.

Jimin, a few feet away, was hurled back by a huge wave. He comes up, gasping… still swimming. The water pouring into the open end of the funnel draws in several swimmers. The funnel sinks, disappearing, but hundreds of tons of water pour down through the 30-foot hole where the funnel stood, thundering down into the belly of the ship. A whirlpool formed, a hole in the ocean, like at enormous toiler-flush. A man, just a couple of feet away from Jimin, swims in a frenzy as the vortex drew him in. He was sucked down like a spider going down a drain.

Jimin, nearby, swims like hell as more people were being sucked down behind him. He manages to get clear. He’s going to live no matter what it takes. He swam up to the boat where Jungkook was, he tried to get himself up. Jungkook was about to push him off but Jimin looked up at him, lips blue and cheeks covered by frost-bites.

“Please help me…” Jimin whimpered out. Jungkook scowled but decided to be the bigger person. Jungkook took Jimin’s cold hands in his and pulled him up to the small boat where not many people were in anyway. The wet male shivered and coughed, some of the other people gave Jimin some dry clothes to wrap himself around

“T-Thank you…” Jimin uttered out, trembling at Jungkook’s feet. The younger male scowled once again and tutted, not saying anything. 

You and Taehyung struggled to climb the well deck stairs as the ship tilts. Seokjin, a bit drunk, puts a hand squarely on your butt and shoves you up onto the deck.

“Sorry, (Y/n)!” Seokjin shouted through the screaming people

Hundreds of people were already on the poop deck, and more were pouring up every second. Taehyung and you clung together as you two struggled across the tilting deck. As the bow goes down, the stern rises. In the boats below, which is just off the stern, passengers gape as the giant bronze propellers rise out of the water like gods of the deep.

People were jumping from the well deck, the poop deck, the gangway doors. Some hit debris in the water and were hurt or killed. On the poop deck, you and Taehyung struggled as the angle increases. Hundreds of passengers, clinging to every fixed object on deck, huddle on their knees around. Pulling himself from handhold to handhold, Taehyung tugs you along the deck.

“Come on, (Y/n). We can’t expect God to do all the work for us” 

You two struggled on, pushing through the praying people. A man lost his footing ahead and slid toward them. Taehyung helps him up. The propellers were twenty feet above the water and rising faster.

Taehyung and you made it to the stern rail, right at the base of the flagpole. You gripped the rail, jammed in between other people. It was the spot where Taehyng pulled you back onto the ship, just two nights… and a lifetime… ago. The lights flickered, threatening to go out. You gripped Taehyung as the stern rises into a night sky ablaze with stars. Around you, all you saw were faces beginning to accept their doom. On to your left, you saw Helga. She looked at you briefly, her eyes infinitely sad.

Passengers lost their grip on to whatever they were holding on to and slid down the wooden deck like a bobsled run, hundreds of feet before they hit the water. Trudy, your maid, slips as she struggles along the railing and slides away screaming. 

The propellers were 100 feet out of the water and were still rising. Panicking people leap from the poop deck rail, screaming and hit the water like mortar rounds. A man falls from the poop deck, hitting the bronze hub of the starboard propeller with a sickening smack.

The swimmers look up and saw the stern towering over them like a monolith, the propellers rising against the stars. 110 feet. 120.

On the boat, your mother watched the scene with horror and dread remembering you. Were you safe? Please let my daughter be safe.

The stern of the ship, almost four hundred feet long, falls back toward the water. On the poop deck, everyone screamed as they felt themselves plummeting. The sound goes up like the roar of fans at a concert

Swimming in the water directly under the stern was a few unfortunates shriek as they see the keel coming down on them like God’s bootheel. The massive stern section falls back almost level, thundering down into the sea and pushing out a mighty wave of displaced water, slamming to the people below.

You and Taehyung struggled to hold onto the stern rail. They feel the ship seemingly right itself. Some of those praying taught it is salvation.

“We’re saved!”

Taehyung shooked his head, grimly. Pulled down by the weight of the flooded bow, the buoyant stern tilts up rapidly. They feel the rush of the ascent as the fantail angles up again. Everyone is clinging to benches, railings, ventilators… anything to keep from sliding as the stern lifts. People start to fall, sliding and tumbling. They skid down the deck, screaming and flailing to grab onto something. They wrench other people lose and pull them down as well. There is a pile-up of bodies at the forward rail. 

“We have to move!” Taehyung shouted. He climbs over the stern rail and reached back for you. You were absolutely terrified to move. He grabs your hand.

“Come on! I’ve got you!” He said, pulling you over the rail. It was the same place he pulled you over the rail two nights earlier, but going the other direction. You got over just as the railing was going horizontal, and the deck vertical. Taehyung grips you fiercely, afraid to let go.

The two of you gripped each other and the rail side by side, looking straight at the black water, waiting for anyone to slip. one the corner of you guys, you saw Seokjin gripping the railing. He nodded a greeting, “One hell of a night, huh”

You nodded back, unsure. You then looked back at Taehyung. “Take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water. The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don’t let go of my hand. We’re gonna make it (Y/n). Trust me.” He said and you nodded, gripping his hand tighter.

“I trust you” then the deck started to descend in a rapid motion. The screaming of people slowly went silent as they were sucked into the ocean. Bodies were whirled and spun, some limp as dolls, others struggling spasmodically, as the vortex sucks them down and tumbles them.

Roiling chaos of screaming, thrashing people were all there was. Over a thousand people were now floating where the ship went down. Some were stunned, gasping for breath. Others were crying, praying, moaning, shouting… screaming.

You two surfaced among them but barely had time to gasp for air before people were clawing at them. People were driven insane by the water, 4 degrees below freezing, a cold so intense that it was indistinguishable from death by fire. 

A man pushes you under, trying to climb on top of you, senselessly trying to get out of the water, to climb onto anything. Taehyung punched him repeatedly, pulling you free.

“Come on! Swim, (Y/n)!” 

You tried, you really did. but your strokes were hindered by the lifebelt you wore. It was heavy, pulling you a bit. You two broke out of the clot of people with Taehyung pushing you to safety. Taehyung looked around, searching for any type of floatation. He has to get you out of this cold water. Taehyung stroke rhythmically, the effort keeping him from freezing to death.

“Look for something floating… Anything, wood, or some debris. Just anything…” His stuttered because of the cold, shivering.

You whimpered, “It’s so cold, Tae….”

He frowned and answered softly, “I know, I know… Help me, here. Look around”

His words kept you focused as you looked around you. Just a couple of feet away, you see something. You pointed at it, shivering, “W-What’s that?” 

Taehyung turned to you and looked at where you were pointing at. You two went to it. It was a piece of wooden debris, intricately carved. He pushes you up and you slithered onto it belly down. But when he tried to get up onto the thing, it tilted and submerges, almost dumping you off as you yelped at the sudden motion. It was clearly only big enough to support you. He clings to it, close to you, keeping his upper body out of the water as best he can. Your breath floats around you two in a cloud as you two pant from exertion. A man then swims toward you, homing in on the piece of debris. Taehyung glared at him and warned him.

“It’s just enough for this lady… you’ll push it under.”

“Let me at least try… or I’ll die soon”

“You’ll die sooner if you come any closer”

The man stopped at Taehyung’s words and nodded as he swims off, “I see. Good luck to you” 

The boats were overloaded and half-flooded. Men cling to the sides in the water. Others, swimming, were drawn to it as their only hope. Jungkook, standing in the boat, slaps his oar in the water as a warning.

“Stay back! Keep off!” He shouted. Jimin shivered in the boat, looking at Jungkook slam his ore in a man’s head, splitting it open. He looked at him, seeing the younger man wasn’t even guilty for it. He thanked God that he arrived earlier on the boat or that would’ve been his fate. Jeon Jungkook was definitely a demon in a tuxedo. 

You and Taehyung still floating amid the chorus of the damned. He sees the ship’s officer nearby, he was blowing his whistle furiously, knowing the sound will carry over the water for miles.

“The boats will come back for us, (Y/n). Hold on just a little longer. They had to row away for the suction and now they’ll be coming back.” Taehyung muttered quietly. You nodded, gripping his cold hands in yours. His words helping you, as you shiver uncontrollably, your lips blue and your teeth chattering.

“Thank God for you Tae…”

You and Taehyung drift under the blazing stars, the water was glassy, with only the faintest undulating swell. You can actually see the stars reflecting on the black mirror of the sea.

Taehyung squeezed the water out of your long coat, tucking it in tightly around your legs. He rubs your arms. His face was turning white because of the frostbite but he paid no attention to it, focusing on you instead.

“It’s getting quiet…” You said

“Just a few more minutes. It’ll take them a while to get the boats organized…” Taehyung muttered back to you, looking straight to your eyes.

You were unmoving, just staring into space. You knew the truth, there won’t be any boats. Behind Taehyung, you see an officer has stopped moving. He was slumped in his lifejacket, looking almost asleep. He has died of exposure already. Taehyung noticed where you were looking and started again, “I don’t know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this.” 

You chuckled weakly at his words, forgetting the cold for a bit. Your laugh was like a gasp of pain, you found his eyes again in the dark.

“I love you, Taehyung”

Taehyung shook his head at your words, “No, (Y/n). Don’t say your goodbyes. Don’t give up now. Don’t do it”

“I’m so cold…”

“You’re going to get out of this… You’re going to go on and you’re going to make babies and watch them grow and you’re going to die an old lady, warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me?” Taehyung said, firmly as he can with his stuttering voice.

“I can’t feel my body…”

Taehyung gripped your hand making you look at him, “(Y/n), listen to me. Listen… Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me.” His breath hindering him from talking. It was too painful now but he continued.

“It brought me to you. And I’m thankful, (Y/n). I’m so thankful.” His voice was trembling because of the cold water which is working his way to his heart. But his eyes were unwavering, looking straight at you.

“You must do me this honor… promise me you will survive… that you will never give up… no matter what happens… no matter how hopeless… promise me now, and never let go of that promise.”

You stifled your tears, nodding, “I promise”

“Never let go”

“I’ll never let go, Taehyung. Never”  You gripped his hand and you lie with your heads together. It is quiet now, except for the lapping of the water. 

The stars reflect in the glassy surface, and the two of you seemed to be floating in interstellar space. You were absolutely still. Your hands were locked together. You were staring upwards at the canopy of stars wheeling above you. The music was transparent, floating… as the long sleep steals over you, and you feel peace.

Your face was pale as the faces of the dead, you knew you were dying, the cold numbing you. You parted your lips, barely moving them as you sang Taehyung’s song

“Come Josephine in my flying machine” 

The stars looked beautiful above you, the Milky Way a glorious band from horizon to horizon. Then a shooting star flares across,  a white line on the dark sky. Your hair was dusted with frost crystals, your breathing was so shallow, you were almost motionless. Your (e/c) eyes track down from the stars to the water. On the water, there was a silhouette of a boat crossing the stars. You saw men in it, rowing so slowly the oars lift out of the syrupy water, leaving weightless pearls floating in the air. The voices of the men sound slow and distorted.

Then the lookout flashes his torch toward you and the light flares across the water, silhouetting the bobbing corpses in between. It flicks past your motionless form and moves on. The boat is 50 feet away, and moving past you. The men looked away. You lifted your head to turn to Taehyung, your hair frozen to the wood.

“Taehyung…” You gasped out so quietly that it was slightly inaudible. You lifted your free hand and shook the male slightly. He didn’t respond. You gently turned his face toward you. It is rimed with frost. 

He seems to be sleeping peacefully, still looking as ethereal. But he was not asleep. You can only stare at his still face as the realization goes through you. Your tears bubbled in your eyes, the burning of your eyes contrasted to the cold.

“Oh, Tae…” you breathed out, feeling all of your hope, will, and spirit leave you. You looked at the boat. It was further away now, the voices fainter. You watched them go. You closed your eyes, all reason to try seemed to leave you. And then… your eyes snapped open. You raised your head suddenly, cracking the ice as you ripped your hair off the wood. You called out, but your voice was so weak that they don’t hear you. The boat is invisible now, the torchlight, a star impossibly far away. You struggled to draw breath, calling again.

You struggled to move. Your hand, you realized, was actually frozen to Taehyung’s. You breathed on it, melting the ice a little, and gently unclasps your hands, breaking away a thin tinkling film.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung… I promised you and I’ll see you again someday.” You choked out, releasing his hand. You watched sadly as he slowly sinks down to the water.  He seems to fade out like an angel returning to heaven where you can’t go just yet. 

You rolled off the floating wood and plunges into the icy water. You swam to the officer’s body and grabbed his whistle. You started to blow the whistle with all the strength left in your body. Its sound slaps across the still water.

The search party whipped towards the sharp sound and ordered the men to row back, “Row back! Row!”

You kept on blowing as the boat comes to you. You were still blowing when the officer hauls you to the boat, taking the whistle from your mouth. You slipped into unconsciousness and they scramble to cover you with blankets…

On the afternoon of the 15th, Jungkook was searching through the faces of the widows lining the deck, looking for you. The deck of Carpathia is crammed with huddled people and even the recovered lifeboats of Titanic. On a hatch cover sits an enormous pile of lifebelts.

He keeps walking toward the stern. Seeing Jungkook’s tuxedo, a steward approached him.

“You won’t find any of your people back here, sir. It’s all steerage.”

Jungkook ignored him and continued to search among the people, huddled in the benches.

 You were sipping hot tea. Your eyes focused on him as he approaches you. He barely recognizes you. You looked like a refugee, your matted hair hanging in your eyes.

“I’ve lived. How awkward for you”

Jungkook sighed, “(Y/n)… Your mother and I have been looking for you–” You held up a hand, stopping him.

“Please don’t. Don’t talk. Just listen. We will make a deal since that is something you understand. From this moment you do not exist for me, nor I for you. You shall not see me again. And you will not attempt to find me. In return, I will keep my silence. Your actions last night need never come to light, and you will get to keep the honor you have carefully purchased.” You glared at him, cold and hard like the ice which changed your lives.

“Is this in any way unclear?” You asked. After a long silence on Jungkook’s behalf, he started.

“What do I tell your mother?”

“Tell her that her daughter died with the Titanic.” You stood up, turning to the rail, dismissing him. Jungkook’s face was stricken with emotion that never even appeared on his face until now.

“You’re precious to me, (Y/n)” Jungkook whispered. You scoffed at him.

“Jewels are precious, Mr. Jeon.” You said harshly. Jungkook stared at your back with such sorrow and emotion. It can be seen that in his own way, the only way he knew, he did truly love you.

After a moment, he turns and walks away.

On the 18th you have sailed to America on your own. You looked at the Statue of Liberty, welcoming you home with her glowing torch. It is just as Jimin saw it, so clearly, in his mind. 

Several hundred police kept the mob back. The dock is packed with friends and relatives, officials, ambulances, and the press– Reporters and photographers swarm everywhere… 6 deep at the foot of the gangways, lining the tops of cars and trucks… it was the 1912 equivalent of a media circus. They jostled to get close to the survivors, tugging on them as they pass and shouting over each other to ask them questions.

You were covered with a woolen shawl and walking with a group of steerage passengers. Immigration officers were asking them questions as they come off the gangway.

“Name?”

You looked at him and said, “Kim. Kim (Y/n)”

This was your new beginning. The new beginning that was robbed from you by time. It was supposed to be you and Taehyung… Doing all the things he promised you, all the things he told you about. Doing all the things all normal couples do. 

You sighed, breathing the air. You smiled a bit, looking around. It was okay. You’ll see him again, someday. But for now, you have to do the things you promised him.

You opened your eyes and you saw the familiar design of the Titanic, the echoing sound of music in the distance was nostalgic. The music was vibrant now, and the room is populated by men in ties and tails, women in gowns. It was exquisitely beautiful just like how you remembered it.

The crowd of beautiful gentlemen and ladies turned as you descend toward them. At the bottom, a man stands with his back to you… He looked so familiar, so heart-achingly familiar. The man turns and it was Taehyung, smiling, he holds his hand out toward you.

“I see you’ve kept your promise, love.”

“I have so much to tell you, Tae”

“I’m here, (Y/n)”

[ggukcangetit]

Tomorrow: Jungkook x Reader

**

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff. Grad student au!; grad student! jungkook; grad student! reader; grad student! bts

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Suggestive language, mild kissing. Not much else really.

Summary: At the beginning of your third year of your PhD program, you didn’t expect many changes. Until the new PhD cohort started classes, and Jeon Jungkook became part of your group of friends.

A/N: i just wrote this randomly with zero plot in mind. idk what this ended up becoming but read it and lemme know if you like it? 

“Choi is a madwoman. I swear she makes me do so many lit reviews just to see me suffer.” Park Jimin, 2nd year PhD student, works part time at HopeWorld dance studio, and is currently regretting many of his life choices.

“I told you not to say yes to every single project that came your way.” Min Yoongi, 4th year PhD student, weekend DJ at Club Moonlight, recipient of the university’s most prestigious research grant, currently lives in a posh apartment four streets away from the main research lab.

“We’re older. Which means we have more experience. Which means we tend to be right more often.” Kim Seokjin, another 4th year PhD student, enrolled into the PhD program after realising that the completion of his MBA meant he would have to join the family business, amateur chef with professional sass, and sole reason behind Min Yoongi being able to afford living in a posh apartment four streets away from the main research lab.

“Not when you bet Tae he couldn’t finish grading Kang’s first year Intro class papers in 24 hours.” Jung Hoseok, 3rd year PhD student, simultaneously working on a second Master’s degree, also happens to run HopeWorld dance studio during his oodles of free time.

“Speaking of, weren’t you supposed to treat us if you lost the bet, Seokjin?” Kim Namjoon, 3rd year PhD student, plant dad, head of the graduate student council, and all-around overachiever.

“Tae was supposed to choose the place. Did you decide on which exorbitantly expensive restaurant Seokjin is going to take us to, Tae?” Y/L/N Y/N, 3rd year PhD student, roommates with Namjoon and Hoseok, addicted to bubble tea.

“I have a better plan. The incoming first year PhDs are supposed to have their orientation tomorrow. I think Seokjin should organise a mixer to welcome them.” Kim Taehyung, aforementioned ‘Tae’, 2nd year PhD student, works part time at the local art gallery, roommates with Park Jimin, deceptively fast at grading papers.

“I do not remember agreeing to that,” said Seokjin, with a frown, shutting his laptop with a definitive snap.

“Come on, it’s not like you can’t afford it,” Yoongi remarked, not having looked up from the large stack of papers in front of him. “If you can insist on paying 3/4ths of the ridiculously high rent of our apartment even though we could have moved into the perfectly reasonable priced place 20 minutes away from the lab, you can damn well afford to host a mixer for the incoming cohort.”

“20 minutes by car. It takes 45 minutes to walk there, Yoongi. Or do I need to remind you of the fact that only Y/N and Sooyoung own cars in our department?” scoffed Seokjin.

“Do I hear trouble in paradise? Have Yoongi and Seokjin finally had their first fight after years of marital bliss?” Lim Sooyoung, 4th year PhD student, part-time yoga instructor, full-time reluctant designated driver due to being the only other PhD student in the department with a car. 

“Hilarious,” grumbled Seokjin. “That joke is about as old as the milk carton at the bottom of Namjoon’s fridge.”

“That’s still there?” asked Hoseok, scandalised. “You told me you threw that out 4 months ago!”

“It’s a limited edition Blue Bean milk carton! I couldn’t throw it out, Hobi,” replied Namjoon, sheepishly. The use of Hoseok’s nickname meant that he had run out of logical arguments against throwing out the milk carton that had been purchased three months into their first year of doctoral studies. 

“Have you ever considered emptying out the contents and keeping just the carton?” you asked. This suggestion was met with the raising of an eyebrow and the throwing of an airpod by Namjoon. Unfortunately, this also meant that the airpod didn’t reach its intended target.

“Ow!” exclaimed Hoseok, rubbing the side of his face where the airpod had made contact. “This is why you’ve been through 33 pairs of airpods in the last year, Namjoon! You have dormant violent tendencies and terrible hand-eye coordination.”

“Now back to that mixer,” said Taehyung, turning towards Seokjin. “I’m thinking around 5 pm at the Underground should be good. What do you think?”

“Fine,” sighed Seokjin, reluctantly. “I’ll send a message on Slack. Who’s got the first years’ contact info?”

xxx

The next day, you found yourself struggling to find parking outside the Underground, despite it being 4.30 pm on a Tuesday. Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting at the back and discussing ways in which they could watch as many of the student films that were being shown over the weekend, while Taehyung sat shotgun and muttered to himself as he tried to destroy some kind of adversary on that godforsaken game that he always seemed to play. You whipped out your phone and started texting Sooyoung about whether she had found any parking.

SY: just parked… sending you the location… its behind the club

SY: is seokjin with you

Y/N: thanks!

Y/N: no i’ve got tae joon n hobi 

SY: ok… wonder how he’s getting here… yoongi’s with me… said seokjin left a while back

Y/N: idk… sure he found something… uber or lyft or whatever… don't worry he won't ditch lol 

Y/N: i found a spot damnnnnn. cya in a bit

SY: lol tae wouldn’t let him live if he ditched

SY: nice :D yoongi and i are in the purple section

The purple section was undoubtedly the best spot in the Underground, as you had discovered almost 2 years ago. Being new to the city, you had basically followed Joon and Hobi wherever they went to socialize or get food. It was around the end of your second month in the program that Seokjin planned a mid-semester gathering, refusing to eat at, in his words, “another cheap taco truck masquerading as kitschy Instagram bait”. That was your first encounter with the Underground as well as your first experience in the purple section. Simply put, it had the best sofas and chairs, an abundance of vintage arcade games, easy access to the bar and food counter, and a separate music setup. It also cost a lot more to sit at the purple section, but Seokjin had never been the type to scrimp when it came to anything. It had become a kind of tradition after that; every time someone had a birthday, Seokjin would reserve the purple section for the evening. Not having grown up surrounded by luxury and riches, it was sometimes difficult for you to understand how Seokjin never thought twice before spending money on things. Then again, you doubted you would’ve been this thoughtful even if you had this kind of money at your disposal. Seokjin might’ve been hard to read at times, but his heart was in the right place.

Speaking of, you spotted Seokjin standing next to a couple of people you didn’t recognise. Deciding that this was probably the best time to get introduced to the first years, you walked over to them with a smile.

“Just deposited Joon, Hobi, and Tae near the bar. I feel sorry for your tab today, Seokjin.”

Seokjin lifted one of his thick arched eyebrows at you and then burst into his signature windshield wiper laugh. “I’ll give them a free pass today. Afterall, it’s the beginning of a new academic year!”

“You’re planning on dumping all of Kang’s data analysis on them, aren’t you?” you asked, trying to suppress a grin.

“Ah, Y/N, you know me so well,” he grinned, his features lighting up mischievously. “By the way, here’s two thirds of the new cohort. Song Yeri and Jeon Jungkook.”

You glanced at the two unfamiliar people and smiled in greeting. Yeri was a petite girl with long black hair who quickly fell into conversation with you. Jungkook, on the other hand, gave you a soft nod and walked over to where Jimin was opening a couple of beers. 

“So is Professor Kang someone we should be worried about?” asked Yeri, not giving you much time to pay much attention to Jungkook. “I wouldn’t want to be unprepared.”

Seokjin laughed at her worried tone. “Straight off the bat, huh?” 

Yeri flushed slightly, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Oh no- I mean, it just seemed like that from your conversation!”

“Don’t worry, Yeri,” you assured her. “Seokjin’s a fourth year - not much phases him. He’s doing his PhD under Kang so he has to do tons of data analysis for her projects. Which he sometimes dumps on people who have been bothering him.”

Yeri looked suitably concerned at this new piece of information. She glanced at Seokjin’s handsome profile and smiled uncertainly. You couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction. It really was difficult to get a grasp on everyone’s personalities just by their looks. Each and every guy in the department was strikingly handsome, and Sooyoung, the only other female besides you, looked like she had walked out of a fashion show. It would’ve been extremely intimidating if you hadn’t personally been a witness to how clumsy Namjoon was, how lame Seokjin’s puns were, how scared Yoongi and Hoseok were of anything remotely resembling an insect, how Tae hadn’t managed to cook a single meal without setting off the fire alarm or giving Jimin food poisoning, how Jimin often collided into objects because he was laughing too much, or how Sooyoung had gotten lost multiple times on her way to campus in spite of driving along the same road for more than 3 years. You were sure Yeri, and the other two first years, would definitely get over the initial nerves and intimidation surrounding their colleagues. In fact, if Jungkook’s animated conversation with Jimin was anything to go by, it seemed like he had gotten over that already.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others.” You steered Yeri in Sooyoung and Yoongi’s direction.

xxx

“Thanksgiving next week! I cannot wait to get away from this blasted Ethics class!” 

You were currently in Seokjin and Yoongi’s shared posh apartment, trying to proof-read a paper before the conference deadline. On the couch next to you sat Seokjin and Namjoon, eyes blinking rapidly in tiredness, while Jimin sat across from you, his silver hair tied into a messy ponytail. 

The door to the apartment swung open at that moment as Jungkook walked in, armed with takeout from at least 4 different places.

“I come bearing sustenance,” he announced, as Jimin jumped up with surprising alacrity and rushed towards him. 

“Your Busan blood runs strong, my friend,” said Jimin, appreciatively, eyeing all the different containers on the table. “I knew I could count on you.”

“That makes zero sense, Jimin,” scoffed Sooyoung. She was buried deep inside Yoongi’s favorite bean bag, having taken it over since the owner was currently not at home. “But li’l Jeon has proven to be a valuable addition to our department.”

“Ugh! Don’t call him that! Li’l Jeon sounds like something else,” you said, scrunching your nose in distaste.

“I agree,” replied Jungkook, rolling up his sleeves as he began opening the containers carefully. “But i can assure you of one thing - there is nothing li’l about this Jeon. In any sense of the word.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you declared, throwing a particularly soft pillow over your face. 

Three months into the semester and Jungkook had become an integral part of your group of friends. It had turned out that Jungkook and Jimin knew each other very well, having gone to school together in Busan. It’s not as if you hadn’t become well acquainted with the other two first years - Yeri still consulted you whenever she needed advice on how to deal with grading or professors or classes in general; and Lauren, an international student from France, was very friendly and turned up at all the department hangouts. But Jungkook seemed like he had been part of your group forever - not someone who had met almost everyone for the first time about 3 months ago. As was customary with first year PhD students, they were required to complete a few mandatory courses before being allowed to customize their coursework around their individual research interests. So even though Jungkook had all the same classes with Yeri and Lauren, almost every moment outside of classes was spent with one of you.

“I can’t believe it’s already time for Thanksgiving,” said Jimin, popping an entire dumpling into his mouth. “-ime eeli plyz.”

“Chew your food, you barbarian,” scolded Seokjin, blowing on a particularly large piece of fried chicken before putting the entirety into his mouth. A couple of chews and a large swallow later, Seokjin was ready for a second piece.

“Speak for yourself,” remarked Sooyoung, holding onto her food protectively.

“I remember Yoongi telling us during our orientation,” Namjoon piped up, a can of beer in his hand. “‘In a PhD program, days are slow, but semesters are fast’. I thought he was high at that time, but I realise now that he’s a true genius.”

“I still don’t get why you’re such a Yoongi fanboy,” grumbled Seokjin, settling comfortably into the couch once again. “I’m just as wise, and definitely a lot funnier.”

“Don’t forget about being a drama queen,” said Sooyoung, nudging Seokjin’s knee with her toes. “You’ve got that one over Yoongi as well.”

“Four years and you're still as ungrateful,” sighed Seokjin, looking uncharacteristically cheerful at the teasing. 

“At least I’m consistent,” shrugged Sooyoung. “Gimme some of your kimchi.”

“Consistency is only useful across data samples,” remarked Seokjin, picking up a small amount of kimchi with his chopsticks and feeding Sooyoung. “Not sure how desirable it is in human relationships. Life would be unbearably dull in that case.” 

“They’ve been dancing around each other for as long as I’ve known them. Why can’t they just get together and stop their incessant flirting in front of the rest of us,” you muttered darkly, vigorously pouring chili oil over your ramen. You, Namjoon, and Jungkook were still getting your food from the kitchen, while Jimin had gone ahead and joined the incessantly flirting pair in the living room.

“Y/N is always so bitter about anything to do with romance,” chuckled Namjoon. “Jungkook, do you know how annoyed she was when Hobi started dating last year?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of hearing that story.” Jungkook glanced at you cheekily, while popping open a can of beer.

“She didn’t speak to him for an entire week. Which was particularly inconvenient because the three of us had just started living in the same apartment, and we were all assigned to assist Choi on her year-end department survey. Poor Hobi thought he might have to find a new place to live.” 

“I’m sorry? Were you the one who came back home after extended office hours to find your friend butt-naked and balls-deep inside the barista who works across the street from our lab? I couldn’t get coffee from there for a month because I couldn’t look Sujin in the eye without immediately imagining Hobi in his natural drawers.”

Jungkook, who had chosen this exact moment to take a sip of beer, spat out the amber liquid on an unsuspecting Namjoon. 

“That’s what you get for deriving pleasure from other people’s misfortunes,” you remarked, smugly.

xxx

It was around 11.30 in the morning, when you heard a loud knocking on your apartment door. Classes had broken for Thanksgiving yesterday, which meant that today was your day to catch up on all the sleep you had missed over the last three months. But instead, you had been woken up much ahead of your intended 16 hours of sleep schedule. 

“You look awful.”

Jungkook walked into the apartment, looking far too fresh and sprightly for your liking. He was wearing that godforsaken plaid shirt that hung loosely off his body, but would highlight his rather well-defined muscles every time he happened to move in a particular way. You absolutely hated what a tease his shirt was. Fortunately for you, he wasn’t wearing the skin tight black jeans which always looked like they were about to burst at the seams, thanks to Jungkook’s equally well-defined thighs. 

“It’s not even noon. Why can’t you call before showing up? Where are your manners, Jeon?” you grumbled, checking to see if your pajamas had any glaring holes in them.

“I need help with the data analysis,” he mumbled sheepishly. “Professor Lee gave me a really tough dataset because I breezed through the first two assignments.”

“Still don’t see why you came over without any notice at this ungodly hour,” you continued, tapping your foot impatiently.

“I also got jjajangmyeon, kimbap, and bubble tea from Kimchi Palace.”

“What kind of bubble tea?” you asked, pushing yourself off the doorframe.

“Strawberry milk tea, half sugar, light ice, with extra strawberry jelly, and no boba.”

“I suppose it isn’t that early.”

A few minutes later, you were explaining principal component analysis to Jungkook, while eating jjajangmyeon and sipping bubble tea. The kimbap was put into the fridge for later, in case Namjoon or Hoseok wanted to have some when they got home at night. 

Jungkook was very intelligent; he picked up new concepts quite easily and was one hundred percent committed to whatever he worked on. He also had a refreshing sense of humor, where he didn’t always crack jokes or stay in the limelight, but his occasional quips were enough to send everyone into fits of laughter. He got along extremely well with each of them. He and Taehyung often walked around the city taking obscure, artsy photographs. Seokjin had basically adopted Jungkook as a younger brother due to his video gaming abilities. Namjoon was glad to finally have someone who enjoyed going on nature hikes with him, while Hoseok had been hugely impressed at Jungkook’s dancing and promptly asked him to help out at his studio. Jimin already knew Jungkook quite well, and Yoongi was more than happy to teach someone else the intricacies of cooking different kinds of meat. Even Sooyoung, who usually remained closed off from new people, had allowed Jungkook to use her car whenever someone needed to be picked up but she was too exhausted to drive. 

“I’m sorry I came by so early. I know you’ve been looking forward to catching up on sleep over the break,” he said softly, looking up from his laptop. That was the other thing that had struck you about Jungkook, he was very perceptive and sensitive to people around him. A rare quality which you appreciated far more than you let on.

“It’s fine. You saved me from having to cook lunch. That itself deserves many prizes from my end. You know how I hate cooking,” you shrugged.

“Speaking of, I’m making dinner for me and Tae tonight. Jimin’s visiting his brother, so it's just the two of us. And since I’d rather not get food poisoning, I’m putting Yoongi’s lamb chop recipe to good use,” he grinned boyishly. “You should come over if you don’t have anything else planned. It’ll save you from cooking another meal.”

“I might take you up on that offer. Let me check if either Joon or Hobi are having dinner at home, otherwise I’ll definitely be there.”

xxx

Taehyung and Jimin (and now Jungkook) lived about 10 minutes away from your place. It was a much larger apartment, so three people were more than comfortable there. Jungkook was staying there until he found another place to stay, but judging by how happy Jimin and Taehyung were with him around, he would probably end up staying with them permanently.

“I found parking at your building for the first time today,” you remarked, dropping your bag on the nearest couch. 

“Half the people are visiting family over the weekend. You won’t be so lucky next time.” Taehyung walked over lazily, his thick black hair falling messily over his eyes. He was dressed in his favorite Celine t-shirt and a pair of the loosest pants you had seen till date.

“The perm’s still looking good, Tae,” you grinned at him, taking the soda from his hand. 

“I’m planning on getting it done again once it wears off,” he said happily, settling into the couch. “Catch up on your sleep? Or did Gguk ruin your Thanksgiving plans as well?”

“‘As well’?” you asked, trying to suppress a grin.

“Taking advantage of the nearly empty laundry room and washing all the sheets does not count as ‘ruining’ anyone’s Thanksgiving plans!” yelled Jungkook from inside the kitchen.

“He woke me up at 7 am and stripped the sheets off my bed, emptied all our laundry bags, and locked me out of my room so that I wouldn’t dirty the bare mattress with my grubby clothes.” Taehyung’s grumbling was always extremely funny because he would end up pouting by the end of his rant and no one would take him seriously after that.

“Okay, the bread is in the oven and should be ready in about 15. Lamb chops are almost done as well. We’ll be dining in no time,” said Jungkook, flopping onto the couch beside you.

“That gives me enough time to answer the emails Choi sent me this morning. Jimin was right, she’s a madwoman. Doesn’t understand what ‘a break’ is , apparently,” sighed Taehyung, getting up and walking towards his room. “Lemme know when the food is ready.”

3 years ago, if anyone had told you that you would be more than halfway through your PhD having become close friends with seven of the most handsome guys on campus (or even in the country), you would’ve laughed at them and then silently questioned their sanity. But now, you couldn’t imagine life without them. Even Jungkook, you realised, glancing at the boy next to you. He had also become an extremely important part of your life. He didn’t say much, but his actions made things abundantly clear. He was extremely caring and thoughtful, even if he didn’t always have the right words to express himself. 

“What’re you thinking?” he asked, looking at you sleepily.

“That this soda is almost lukewarm.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

Suddenly, you felt a rough set of fingers poking your ribcage. Slowly, but surely, you were squirming in place as you struggled to not spill your soda while Jungkook continued tickling you mercilessly. 

“I know your weakness, remember?” he managed to say between giggles, his voice turning high-pitched as it usually did when he laughed too hard. 

“Gguk stop! The soda! It’ll spill on the carpet!” you gasped, trying to keep your hand steady.

“Oh shit! Sorry. Yeah, Jimin would freak out if he saw a stain on this carpet.” Jungkook let you go so that you could place the soda can on the nearest table. But as soon as you had freed your hands, you jumped on him and pinned him on the couch.

“I also know your weakness, Gguk,” you grinned, deviously, before tickling him with all your might. 

Needless to say, a scenario with two people in their mid-twenties behaving like 4 year olds, was bound to have certain consequences. In this case, it ended with both you and Jungkook falling off the couch, your faces mere inches away from each other. 

This wasn’t the first time you had been struck by how handsome Jungkook was. In fact, you had noticed the exact number of moles on his face and neck, having stopped yourself from reaching out and touching the one under his lower lip on more than one occasion. His large doe eyes also held a certain innocence and wonder in them, even though he was an extremely bright and capable PhD student with a lot of varied knowledge bases. Not just that, his impressive physique had caught you off guard many times. Particularly because it contrasted so heavily with his boyish face.

None of that mattered at this moment, as you could feel his breath on your face. He was so close… If you reached up a little bit, you would be-

“The oven timer’s been beeping for the last 10 minutes. But you both are too busy eye-fucking each other to notice.”

Taehyung’s deep voice caused you both to spring apart from each other, mortification heating up your face and neck. Jungkook’s ears, you noticed, had turned a very beautiful shade of red as well.

Dinner wasn’t as awkward as you expected because Yoongi dropped by a few minutes after your ‘eye-fucking’ session, extremely hungry and annoyed at Seokjin - who had decided to use this night to slow cook some pork.

“Gguk, this is really good,” said Yoongi, once all of you had finished eating. “Didn’t think you’d be able to get it right on the first go! Y/N, what’d you think? You’ve been awfully quiet the whole time.”

You nodded your head in response, keenly aware of Taehyung’s intense gaze that followed your every move. “It was really good, Gguk. Thanks for a lovely meal.”

“Do you need a ride home, Yoongi?” you asked, once all the dishes had been cleared away. “I’ve got my car.”

“Life-saver. I need to pick up a tin of coffee from the convenience store. I’ll meet you at the parking lot in 10?” said Yoongi slipping on his jacket.

“Wait, I’ll go with you. I need to buy some soda,” said Taehyung, springing up suddenly. Not bothering to change out of his slippers, he rushed out after Yoongi, but not before glancing quickly between you and Jungkook and sending you a rather outrageous wink.

“That was… weird,” you remarked, relieved to see that Jungkook had missed your exchange with Taehyung. “Anyway, thanks again for a great meal. You’re a really good cook, Gguk.”

“Thanks,” he said, not really looking up from his phone. He had also been rather silent throughout the meal.

“I’m heading out then. See you later, Gguk.” You picked up your bag and proceeded to open the door.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned around to find Jungkook standing rather close to you. You could see the mole below his lower lip quite clearly from here.

“You never told me what you were thinking about.” His voice was a lot more husky than usual, and you gulped as you realised you had no clue what to say to him.

“I-”

Before you could finish your half-formed sentence, Jungkook’s lips were on yours, kissing you slowly. After being frozen for a second or two, your hands made their way into his soft brown curls, relishing in the feeling of having him so close to you. You realised that you had been wanting to do this for a while now. Maybe even since the first day of classes, when he had offered you his cup of coffee after the machine in the department had stopped working. 

“Never mind,” he said, breaking the kiss with a soft ‘chu’. “You can tell me another time. Yoongi’s probably waiting at the parking lot.”

“And Tae might come back any minute now,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, a soft smile on his face. 

“Tomorrow?” It seemed like your brain had short circuited. 

“Yeah.” He dipped down and placed another chaste kiss on your mouth, before displaying his adorable bunny smile. “But even that seems too far away right now.”

You were really grateful that you managed to get both yourself and Yoongi home without crashing the car that night. Once you got home, you checked your phone and found two messages - a text from Jungkook checking if you had reached home safe, and another one from Taehyung.

T: the couch is off limits. don’t even think about it...

xxx

please do not repost anywhere. reblog if you enjoyed the story!

[cottonloid]

Cotton Playlist: Unicorn

I wanted to write about Vocaloid songs I like, so I did. Here are my thoughts on Teniwoha and their latest song, “Unicorn.”

UNICORN, by Teniwoha

On February 7, 2020, Teniwoha uploaded “Villain” to their YouTube channel. Their previous song, “Bradbury,” had been uploaded in August 2019, and has at time of writing raked up a respectable 261,500 hits. Although Teniwoha had been uploading music to YouTube since 2014, only one song, “Meitantei Renzoku Satsujinjiken” had managed to break the million-view barrier. That song was uploaded in 2016. Teniwoha’s songs over the next four years received decent attention, with a few surpassing 100K and even 500K in views. But other songs languished with fewer than 50K views. Even “9,” a collaboration with emon(Tes.), has only managed to net 33,000 views.

I don’t know why Teniwoha received relatively little YouTube attention during this period. Maybe it was the state of the Vocaloid community during this time. Maybe they were not favored by the fickle gods of the YouTube algorithm. Maybe their songs missed the musical zeitgeist. Whatever the reason, the dry spell ended with “Villain,” which performed like no Teniwoha song before it. At time of writing, it sits at 4,850,000 views on YouTube. That’s not counting covers.

I’ve been a fan of Teniwoha since 2014, and I’m glad “Villain” was a big hit. I love “Villain,” even though it’s not my favorite Teniwoha song. But I’m not here to talk about “Villain” (even though I will actually be talking a lot more about “Villain”). I want to talk about “Unicorn,” which I like a little more.

How do we quantify the success of a song or an artist? I’ve been throwing out a lot of statistics, and sure, we can say that’s a measure of popularity. By that measure, “Unicorn” is the dark horse to “Villain.” Uploaded three months after Teniwoha’s biggest YouTube hit, it currently has 322K views. Not bad. But at this point, it’s not going to replicate the statistical success of “Villain,” despite the similarities between the songs. And there are quite a few similarities. Both videos feature illustrations by Nekoko. Both are about marginalized (pretty clearly queer) identities and create joy out of subversion and adversity. Both have an industrial-rock sound to them.

Comparing the two songs, I think it’s clear why “Villain” was the hit. It has a catchier, dynamic chorus and a badass keyboard riff. In comparison, the chorus in “Unicorn” kind of drifts downwards, then up, then down, then up again, before finally hitting that punchy, “Now! I’m a unicorn now!” “Villain” actually pulls a similar trick in its chorus—after the keyboard comes in, the vocals float back in to sing the title of the song. It’s neat. But it doesn’t blow me away quite like “Unicorn.” The chorus leading up to that part is less flashy, though the jeering/cheering sound at the beginning is a nice addition. But it builds up to a show-stealing synthesizer, and instead of the song’s title sounding like an afterthought, it bursts gleefully forth—“I’m a unicorn NOW!” This part sounds like a prancing horse (complete with clip-clop sounds in the background), and I love it.

It’s the bridge between the verse and chorus that really stands out. It shows up with force and confidence, taking what has until that point been a rhythmically measured song and propelling it forward. The tuning is great, and this is coming from someone who often does not like flower. The little squeak Teniwoha puts into their voice is extremely satisfying. Teniwoha deftly utilizes flower’s gruff low/mid-range, and there’s a tremoring quality to some of the vocals that feels appropriately horse-y (hoarse-y?).

But I don’t actually know shit about music. The real reason why “Unicorn” just barely edges out “Villain” for me is that it’s slightly more playful. And I think play is Teniwoha’s biggest strength. So in “Unicorn,” he gets to show off.

If I had to describe Teniwoha as an artist in two words, those words would be “playful” and “versatile.” Teniwoha primarily makes rock music, but if you listen to his backlog, you’ll hear a wide variety of styles. I’d name some, but again, I don’t know shit about music. And I don’t think all of Teniwoha’s songs fit neatly into genre conventions. For instance, they described their song “Onomatopetenshi” as “neo rakugo funk music.”

“Onomatopetenshi” is kind of the perfect Teniwoha song. It is basically a vessel for them to make a song entirely of puns. My Japanese language skills aren’t good enough to fully appreciate it, and to my knowledge, nobody has translated it. For obvious reasons. For instance, there are lyrics that translate roughly to “drunkenness, a good slave, old age, spirit fire.” That doesn’t make a lot of sense. But those lyrics (酔いどれ良い奴隷養老霊火) are pronounced, “yoidore yoidorei yourou rei hi.” Sure enough, the vocals yodel. (Skip to 0:33 in the song to hear it for yourself.)  

In another song, “Kyuubi goryoue mystery ~tenketsu~,” Teniwoha pens the infuriating line, “Look in fear upon the bon festival.” Which is fine in itself. But that line (恐れ見よ盆挿話) is pronounced “osore miyo bon souwa,” and is phonetically similar to “o sole mio, bonsoir.”

I think a witch cursed Teniwoha to make them write puns for the rest of their life.

Anyhow, my point is that Teniwoha can write a range of songs and have a great time doing it. My favorite Teniwoha songs are the ones that revel in their own deviousness. “Devious” feels like an appropriate word to describe someone who makes as many puns as Teniwoha. Ironically, “Villain” is a song that is textually about being devious. But it’s kind of heavy, thematically. The song finds its joy and soars in some places, but it’s a joy that is painfully earned. Embracing the role of the villain can feel empowering, but it’s a role other people have chosen for the song’s narrator.

As in “Villain,” the narrator in “Unicorn” declares themselves to be a unicorn. But it’s less clear that other people forced the narrator into this role, so this declaration reads to me as self-affirmation. There’s still a sense of bitterness in this song, but it a little more playful, a little more weaponized. (Like a unicorn horn???) The vibe is very, “Feeling abandoned by god? Cool. Let’s burn everything down.” It’s the difference between “hated life/蛇蝎ライフ” and “the joys and sorrows of life/苦楽ライフ.”

Teniwoha also gets to do a little more wordplay in “Unicorn,” rhyming English words like ark/mark/dark, melancholy/holy, and unicorn/you become/unison. Then there are some cross-language puns like “smile” and “数mile” (pronounced “suu mile”). The poetics of these lyrics are just generally great. There was some of that in “Villain,” of course, but the tone of the song is maybe a bit heavy for too many puns. I think that due to the slightly lighter tone in “Unicorn,” Teniwoha gets to flex their lyrical muscles a little. And write puns.

This wordplay also works thematically. Teniwoha bends linguistic meaning while his lyrics challenge a black/white binary. The unicorn’s very existence makes a mockery of this binary, just as puns throw linguistic sense into gleeful confusion. There’s a new meaning being made here.

Of course, this also happens in “Villain” to an extent. As always, my preference is simply a matter of taste. Both “Villain” and “Unicorn” are great queer anthems. But the spiteful jubilance of “Unicorn” matches my mood a little more right now. Or maybe I just like that the song sounds like a horse. And really, I’m just glad that more people are listening to Teniwoha now. After six years, they deserve it.

Now please go stream Teniwoha’s “Mononoke Mystery” album. It’s on Spotify, and it’s their best work.

[thebookkeeperslibrary]

Lost Time: Ch. 3

Fandom: Time Warp Trio Author: The_Bookkeeper_96 Rating: T Summary: Another summer at Horae Manor begins, but before Joe and Tessa get the chance to train, they are sent out on a mission to explore the magic capital of the universe, Mancika. Rumors of illegal magic conversion spread throughout the city, and Joe and Tessa need to locate those responsible. But after the events of last summer, Joe isn't eager to work with his Aether partner, and the two are struggling more with each other than with their enemies. Read on AO3

Preview:

"It is important that every magic wielder identify their weakness. And then learn how to guard it at all costs." Principles of Magic, Chapter 6 by Flynn Alvaro

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Dinner had been long and silent. Seriously, I'd been in libraries that were louder. Fred had tried to lighten the mood with several bad puns and jokes, but it just made everyone even more uncomfortable. Sam, Arwen, and Juniper prodded Tessa and me for information, but neither of us was in a talking mood after everything we had just learned. We needed more time to process it all.

I had hardly touched my dinner, and I'm regretting it now. My stomach rumbles so loudly, I'm sure everyone in the room can hear me. Which included Cas, who's sitting next to me, and Tessa and Ro, who were on the ground about twenty feet below us in what looked like a large high-school gym. Apparently, this was the training room. Designed for all of our magical learning needs. It was hidden behind a door underneath the grand staircase in the entrance hall.

Tessa and I had been forced to come here after dinner. Ro and Cas didn't want to waste any time in preparing us for what was to come. Given that the fate of the entire space-time continuum rested in our hands, I don't blame them.

Fred, Sam, Arwen, and Juniper, on the other hand, had been told they could do whatever they wanted to do. Fred had followed Arwen off to a different training area, designed for those who didn't have any magical abilities. Sam and Juniper had wandered off to the expansive library. The girls didn't seem too happy to have company, but they couldn't exactly say no. So they were stuck with them.

"I really am sorry to drop all this on you and Tessa. But you deserve to know the gravity of the situation." Cas drums his fingers on the balcony railing as he speaks. "I'm also sorry that we have to force you into training so quickly, but Ro and I have an emergency council meeting tomorrow evening, and those things can last for days. So if we don't do this now, who knows when we'll be able to work with you."

"Right, the council…" I bite my lip and hope he doesn't ask how much I actually read of his books.

"Just how much of those books did you read?"

Damn. "Uh, well, you see, the thing is my normal school classes were really tough this year, and I didn't really get a lot of free time to do any magic stuff."

He tilts his head back and sighs. "Can you at least tell me what the nine magics are?"

"Um…" I scratch my head thinking back on the small amount that I did read. "Well, there's time and space magic, obviously. And the other seven are the magics of life, death, nature, mind, body, creation, and the elements." I sit up a little straighter, proud of myself for at least getting that much.

"Correct. But what are their proper names?"

"Proper names?"

He sighs again. I'm beginning to worry that he'll push all the air out of his lungs soon. "The common way to refer to the different magics would be to call them the magic of time or the magic of the elements, but in more professional settings the correct way to refer to them would be using their proper names. For instance, the magic of time is temporamancy. Space is aethermancy. Life and death are animacy and necromancy respectively. Elemancy is the magic of the elements. Mundumancy is the magic of nature-"

"Oh, yeah!" I cut him off, excited to remember something else. "And cephamancy is magic of the mind. While corpomancy is the magic of the body. Then the magic of creation is fabricomancy."

A soft smile plays along his lips. "Exactly. I'm glad to see you read the first chapter at least. Now can you tell me the origin of them?"

I press my lips together, mind racing to see what I know, but nothing comes to me.

Cassius leans forward, looking down at Tessa and Rowena who are talking on the ground below. I glance down at them as well. From Tessa's grumpy expression, I can tell she's not happy to be here. She looks up at us, at me. Her scowl lessens, but only slightly.

"This should be interesting," Cas muses.

"What are they doing?"

"A little magic practice. Rowena seems to think Tessa will learn better with an audience. We'll see how this goes." He nods at Tessa, still looking up at us. She gives him a terse nod in return and says something to Rowena before walking off to the far side of the gym. Rowena walks to the other side.

My gaze settles on Tessa as she settles into her spot. With a flash, her hands spark to life, bolts of purple electricity sparking between her fingers. A purple glow radiates out from her body like a second skin.

"Wow," I mutter, unable to help myself. She makes it look so easy.

Cas chuckles. "And that's not even the most impressive thing she can do. Now let's see how well you learn with a live demonstration."

My head turns sharply to look at Cas. He doesn't actually expect me to listen to him drone on about magic history while there's a cool magic show going on in front of me, right?

I'm proven wrong again as he takes a deep breath and begins, "There are currently nine known magics in the universe. All of these magics came from raw magic, the All Father's power. Raw magic still exists today, and occasionally someone will be born with the ability to wield it, but it is a deadly, all-consuming power."

"Can people choose their power?" I ask, already more interested than I expected to be.

"What? Not happy with your time magic?" He frowns at me.

"No! That's not what I meant. I just-"

"Relax." His frown lifts into a smile. "It's okay. No, there is no natural way for someone to change their power. The magic you have is the magic you're born with."

"Are there any unnatural ways?"

His face darkens. "No." The quickness of his response easily betrays his lie.

"But you said-"

"Joe." All traces of Cassius' usual warmth is gone. "I admire your curiosity and eagerness to learn about all this, but some stones are better left unturned." He ends the discussion with that. Before I can think too much about it, he returns the conversation to its original topic. "The first magics created were Time and Space. From Time, the All Father created Animancy, Necromancy, Cephamancy, and Fabricomancy. From Space, he created the other three magics."

"Can people with the magic of time or space use those other magics?" My thoughts trace back to last summer, when Cassius healed my wounds after we returned from Cealus. He'd said we both had healing magic, just not as much as actual Animantists.

"To a degree, yes." Cass nods his head. "Because of this Space and Time magic is considered to be a higher tier of magic. It's more complicated than the others, but this in no way makes us superior to them." He gives me a pointed look at that. "Despite what some people may believe. All magics are equal to each other. They are all important in maintaining the balance of the universe.

"You're job as the Warp Wizard, the job for any of the Greats, is to protect the balance of the universe. This task is especially important for the Warp and Aether Wizards because their domains are so vast and affect everyone." Cassius' hands light up with magic. He creates an orb of green light. The orb shifts and transforms into a yin yang symbol. "There is a balance in everything. And if the balance is disrupted, everything falls apart." The yin yang symbol dissipates into the air. Just as quickly as it disappears, a new shape takes its place. The forms continue to change shape as Cas speaks, synching up with the words he's saying. "Balance comes in many forms. Good and evil. Love and hate. Life and death. Even as the Warp Wizards, we cannot change the past or alter the future to our benefit. If someone we love makes a bad decision or loses their life, we must honor the path of time, accept what has happened, and move on as best we can. It is also our duty to ensure that everyone in the space-time continuum does the same."

I try my best to smile and keep my eyes open. Magic is just like sports. You have to learn the rules of the game before you can play, but the rules of magic are kind of boring. Surely as the Warp Wizard I would be able to have some fun with it. Maybe just go back and make sure I pick the right lottery numbers once or twice.

The death clock and its ominous tick flash before my eyes. Oh, right. The fate of the universe is in my hands. Maybe I should be thinking about all this a bit more seriously.

I look back down at Tessa, surprised that Cas has been able to hold my attention for so long. She hasn't moved, but neither has Rowena. The girls simply stare at each other across the vast floor.

After a long, tense silence, Ro shakes her head. With a sweep of her hand, she sends a wave of violet energy racing towards Tessa. She raises her arms in an X in front of her face. Just before the wave crashes into her, she slices her arms down, parting the wave with a small gap just big enough for her to fit through. She tumbles through the hole and rolls to her feet, ever the acrobat. Her sabre flicks out beside her. Cutting it through the air, Tessa is gone in the blink of an eye.

Rowena apparently anticipates this reaction. She moves her hands through the air, fingers forming strange shapes, almost like she's speaking sign language.

The room rearranges itself before my eyes. I try my best to keep up with the transformation, but I'm lost and confused almost as soon as it begins.

The gym is half the size it was a second ago. The ceiling is almost touching my head now. Cas has to bend over to avoid hitting it. "I hate when she does that," he grumbles.

When Tessa reappears, she is only five feet away from Ro. By the shocked look on her face, I can tell this is not where she wanted to be.

Rowena immediately attacks her, lashing out with her fists and magic. Despite her lithe build, she's able to put a lot of strength into her movements. I have no doubt that she could knock me out in one hit.

Tessa does her best to dodge the quick punches, sliding back and forth, arms blocking her face.

This only makes Rowena attack harder, adding magic to her punches. A purple glow surrounds her fists.

Tessa jumps back out of the way. She uses her magic to propel herself through the air and jumps farther than any normal person should be able to. She spreads her hands out, palms facing the ground, the purple glow returning to her hands. Moments pass, but nothing happens.

Rowena presses forward, the light in her hands growing more and more intense. She throws them out in front of her, sending a laser of space magic flying straight towards Tessa.

Just before it reaches her, Tessa flings her arms up, and a shield of magical energy shoots up from the ground. Rowena's magic bounces off of it, flying back at her. She has no time to turn it off or redirect it before it hits her square in the chest and sends her soaring back. Purple flames dance along the floor at the place of impact.

Rowena manages to get to her feet, and with a wave of her hands, the flames die down, leaving only scorch marks on the ground in their place.

Tessa lowers her shield, breathing heavily as she stares down her mentor, who frowns at her in return.

"That was not what you were supposed to do." Ro's frown deepens. The smaller space allows me to hear their conversation better than I could before.

"Hey, I won, didn't I? Don't be such a sore loser." Tessa crosses her arms and looks away. The confidence in her voice is contradicted by the guilt on her face. She knows she messed up, but she's too stubborn to admit there's a problem.

I wonder what was supposed to happen. It all seemed like an impressive display of magic to me. Tessa did technically win the fight. So what was the big deal? Was there a specific spell or trick she was supposed to do?

"This sounds like something you two should discuss in private. If you wouldn't mind?" Cas says to his sister as he points to the ceiling, which is squishing his hair flat against his head.

"Of course. Sorry about that." Rowena pushes her arms away and up and the room returns to its normal size so fast, it makes me dizzy.

"Now, where were we?" Cas straightens his spine and fixes hair. "Oh, yes, balance. One of the many forms of balance is the partnership between the Warp and Aether Wizard. Which is why it is so important for the two to cooperate and be in perfect sync. For centuries, two people from almost every generation have been chosen as the protectors of the universal balance."

"Almost every generation? Were some of them skipped?"

Cassius goes on, ignoring my question. An annoying habit of his I really hope stops soon. "The Warp and Aether pair are complements to each other. One will excel where their partner falls short and vice versa. For example, what did you notice when watching Tessa practice?"

I think for a moment. Tessa's movements were graceful, and she was confident in every step. "She acted like she was on stage. Like she never left the circus."

"Well, yes," Cas chuckles. "But what did you notice about her attack style? Or lack thereof."

I look back down at the scorch marks on the floor. Was I supposed to know stuff about attack styles? I think back to our run-in with the drake at Cealus. Tessa had run and let Arwen do the fighting. She had managed to make a maze to confuse the drake and get us safely away from the city, but she hadn't fought anything in the process. "She didn't fight back… or attack at all really. She just defended herself and waited for opponents to take themselves out."

Cassius grins, and I can't help but feel proud again at another correct answer. I didn't exactly excel in any of my normal school classes, so doing well in magic school felt pretty good.

"Precisely. Tessa's strength is defense. Which as you saw, is still a pretty good battle strategy."

"Why doesn't she attack? Can she do any offensive moves?" Battle strategy is a new subject for me. It's not like it's part of a standard school curriculum. But I understand football, and the two don't seem that different.

"Oh, she definitely can, but for whatever reason, she chooses not to. It's been a long-going argument between her and Rowena. Tessa refuses to let her full magic potential out. Ro and I haven't been able to figure out why." Cas pauses, tapping his finger against his knee.

I clear my throat, bringing him back to the present with a start.

"Right, so we know that Tessa is strong in defense but weak in offense. Even if we hadn't seen your impressive displays of power in the past, we could assume you would be very strong in offense."

"But I'm probably weak in defense then, right?"

He smiles at me. "Weaker than Tessa, but we can still ensure you know how to defend yourself. Something you're going to be practicing soon."

"How soon?" I jump up in my seat. Finally, practicing magic, the whole reason I came here.

Cas snaps his fingers, and the next thing I know, we're standing in the gym, right next to Tessa and Rowena, neither of which seems surprised by our sudden appearance. From this new perspective, the room seems a lot more like an arena than a gym.

I turn to Cas, eyes wide. Does this mean…?

"Now."

[shireness-says]

Ear-resistible

Summary: Emma may be out the night before Easter as a favor to Mary Margaret, but she didn't expect to see Killian Jones in the center of town. After midnight. In a rabbit suit. Rated T for language. ~2.5K. Also on Ao3.

A/N: Happy Easter to those who celebrate it! Yes, this is going up a little early, but I’ll be busy tomorrow and the events of the fic happen the night before anyways. It’s a good enough excuse. Loosely based on an episode of the mid-90s BBC comedy “The Vicar of Dibley”, which I watched an inexplicable amount of as a kid for someone born after it premiered in the United States. It’s still funny.

Thanks to @snidgetsafan for her beta-ing and half the puns. She’s the best.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Storybrooke, Maine has always been a little too good to be true.

After all, there isn’t really a place with an annual candle-based festival, or one where an entire town takes a lonely orphan girl under their collective wing, or one with a massive town-wide Easter egg hunt. It’s absurd. That place can’t exist.

And yet, somehow, Storybrooke does.

Emma Swan even knows the person who dresses as the Easter Bunny every year (because that’s exactly the kind of town Storybrooke is) - a lovely young lady named Mary Margaret Nolan, local fifth grade teacher and daughter of the late Leo Blanchard, the former mayor who’d originated this tradition in the first place. Mary Margaret continuing her father’s legacy, rabbit costume and all, is the least shocking of all of this - something about continuity and family tradition and other sentiments that belong in a friggin’ Hallmark movie. After all, this is Storybrooke, the only town in the world where all of this seems natural.

Mary Margaret Nolan also happens to be Emma Swan’s best friend, which is how she gets pulled into this whole mess in the first place.

“I don’t know what happened, but I’ve caught some sort of stomach bug,” she’d explained to Emma over the phone. She’d certainly sounded miserable, her voice echoing around the bathroom where undoubtedly she’d still been camped. That’s probably why Emma had agreed when Mary Margaret had begged Emma to do her a huge favor.

Unfortunately, that favor had been to dress up as the goddamn Easter Bunny to hide eggs around town.

(Personally, Emma thinks insisting she wear a costume is stupid, but Mary Margaret had been insistent.

“What if one of the kids sees you?” she’d asked, like there’d actually be school kids peeking out their windows at half past midnight. Lucky for Mary Margaret, one of the few guilt trips that still works on Emma is the prospect of disappointed kids.)

She feels ridiculous, honestly. Blatantly ridiculous. If Mary Margaret has a bug, there’s no way Emma is putting on her rabbit suit, so Emma had taken things into her own hands. Rabbit footie pajamas complete with fluffy tail and some ears on a headband is close enough, right? Especially since she’s painted whiskers and teeth on her face? Mary Margaret’s very fancy and expensive rabbit suit doubtless wouldn’t have fit anyways, since Emma is a good several inches taller. Hey, if she has to do this insane thing, at least she’s going to be comfortable.

Hiding eggs is kinda fun, Emma has to admit. It’s a bit of fun she never really got as a kid, only seeing it on TV and wishing she could do that too. She’d already been 15 by the time the Nolans had taken her in, eventually for good, and Emma had already been too old and full of teenage attitude to take part in the hunt herself, even if the residents of Storybrooke - who adopted her nearly as much as Ruth and Robert and David had - doubtless would have cheered her on if she had. It’s fun, finding clever little places to stash eggs for the older kids and easier spots that will make the littler ones feel clever, all the while hearing the rattle of coins and candy inside the plastic.

Sure, there’s a few eggs in spots Emma doesn’t remember leaving anything, but it’s half past midnight. It’s easy enough to write that off as tiredness and simple forgetfulness. Since the eggs are fake, Emma doesn’t need to keep a map of where she hides things for later. She’s the only one out doing this, anyways, and the eggs don’t look like they’ve been left outside for a year; there’s no reason to think she’s not the one who hid them.

That makes it all the more shocking to look across the town square and see another figure in full rabbit costume with a wagon full of eggs.

“What the…” she mutters, squinting as if it could somehow make the sight make sense.

Meanwhile, the other rabbit takes off their head piece - one of those massive mascot-type deals. “Swan?” they call in an accented male voice, before moving closer into her clear line of sight.

Oh shit. She knows exactly who it is: Killian Jones, local bartender and object of her lust (and possible love). And the last person Emma wants to see facing her in a rabbit suit.

Emma not wanting to see Jones has nothing to do with her own feelings; she’s willing to admit, at least to herself, that she likes Jones one hell of a lot, likes his smile and his sense of humor and that delicious accent that sends shivers chasing down her spine, even if all three are usually directed at other people. There’s been an attraction, at least on her part, ever since he moved to Storybrooke almost two and a half years ago now. No, the problem is that Jones doesn’t like her, and Emma can’t figure out why.

She’d thought it was some kind of jealousy at first, what with the way she catches him glaring whenever she interacts with other men in the bar, but it’s more than that. If she leans over the bar to try and talk to him over the noise, he groans. If they see each other in public, he offers only the briefest pleasantries before heading in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. Honestly, he seems disdainful of everything about her. The heart wants what the heart wants, though, and Emma’s never been able to quash her attraction to Killian Jones, God help her.

“What are you doing here, lass?” he asks as he approaches until he’s close enough for Emma to reach out and touch his mascot suit if she wanted too. Did Storybrooke High change its team from the Knights to the… Demon Rabbits or something? She doesn’t follow high school sports close enough to remember; all she knows is that the enormous rabbit head under Killian’s arm is freaking her out with its dead eyes and cartoonish teeth.

“What do you think I’m doing out here?” Emma shoots back, probably harsher than is needed in the situation. Maybe this is why she’s still single. “I’m hiding Easter eggs. Jesus Christ, where did you get that awful costume?”

“No,” he replies slowly, gesturing towards his ridiculous wagon. “I’m the one hiding Easter eggs. And technically, Swan, it’s already Easter, it seems pretty bold to be taking the Lord’s name in vain on Easter. But, for the record, Belle lent it to me from the drama department. The high school put on a production of Harvey last year, don’t you remember?”

“Shut up,” she mumbles. The know-it-all attitude definitely isn’t helping any of this… even if Emma hadn’t remembered that play. Musical? Whatever. “Okay, well, I don’t know why you’d be hiding eggs still, because Mary Margaret asked me to take over since she’s sick.” Emma’s getting a bit defensive about this, but she can’t actually bring herself to care.

“And David asked me for the same reason. I don’t know why you’re arguing with me about this, Swan.”

“Because you’re not supposed to be here!” she all but explodes, before reigning her emotions back in. It’s just a weird misunderstanding; there’s no reason to get mad at Killian for something that’s not his fault. Probably. “Look, just… I don’t want to be in your way, just as much as you don’t want me in your way, so you take the North end and I’ll hide stuff on the South end. Everything gets covered and you won’t have to deal with me. Fine by you?”

“That seems a bit harsh,” Killian mumbles back. Notably, he doesn’t answer her question, which Emma tries not to be pissed about. God, this man some days.

“What, the divide and conquer plan? Not sure what you’d find harsh about that.”

“No, the part where you seem to think I’m bothered by you.”

“Look, you don’t have to pretend, Killian. I know you don’t like me, and it’s fine, I’m a big girl, we’ll just stay out of each other’s hair —”

“What makes you think I don’t like you?” To his credit, Killian does look genuinely confused. That almost pisses Emma off more - this who, me? act that he’s apparently decided to put on.

“Oh please. I’d have to be blind not to see the glares and hear the groans and whatever. I’m not an idiot, I can put two and two together.”

“It’s not what you think,” Killian argues - weakly, in Emma’s opinion - turning red to his very ears.

“You go out of your way to avoid me,” she deadpans.

“Yeah, but it’s not because I don’t like you, it’s because…” Killian trails off for a moment, before muttering something unintelligible.

“I didn’t understand a single word of that,” Emma comments dryly, crossing her arms. “Try again.”

Killian sighs heavily. “Look, I really like you, alright?”

“No you don’t.” It’s a stupid thing to say, considering that he literally just told her so (and turned adorably red doing it), but it’s Emma’s knee-jerk reaction. There’s no way, right?

He scratches behind his ear - a sign Emma’s learned means he’s uncomfortable or embarrassed. Could he actually be serious? “Aye, I really do. Veering rather alarmingly towards the territory of “smitten”, if I’m quite honest.”

“But you’re always so... disapproving,” she tries to reason. “If you like me so much, why all the glaring and the groaning?”

“When do I groan?”

“Usually when I’m leaning against the bar, though I can probably come up with other examples.”

Killian laughs. It’s very much unexpected. “You’d groan too, Swan, if a lady you fancied had a habit of leaning down right in front of you and perfectly displaying all her lovely undergarments. I’m just a man, love, and that lacy black number does things to me.”

Oh. Oh. Well, she supposes that makes enough sense. Still… “Well, what about everything else? You go out of your way to avoid me, don’t pretend you don’t.”

He sighs again, a frustrated sound this time. Maybe a little sad too. “I know it doesn’t make much sense. And believe me, it wasn’t at all for lack of want. But you’re my best friend’s little sister,” he shrugs. “David can be protective, not that I blame him. I’m sure I’d be the same if I had a younger sister. But the fact remains that I’m not too keen on him cutting my balls off over this, especially since it’s so one-sided.”

That gives Emma pause for a moment. “Wait, one-sided?” she demands. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Aye,” he says, hanging his head. Rejection tinges his tone - needlessly, really, but he’s not picking up one her cues in the least. “Which is fine, Swan, I’m a grown lad and my feelings are my own. I’m not asking… that is, I’d never assume you felt the same, and nothing needs to change —”

“Whoa, hold on, that’s not —” Emma cuts herself off to collect her own thoughts, running her hands along her scalp in an anxious gesture. It’s been an absolute 180 in the past few minutes where her perception of their relationship is concerned, and she feels the need to take a few moments to try and recenter herself, collect her bearings. “Fuck,” she grumbles, “this is not how I imagined this going at all.”

“How you imagined what, love?” Confusion still colors his face; that just won’t do. She’s making a total hash of this - though she’d argue that that’s kind of on him as well - but maybe there’s still a way to redeem it. It’s about the destination, not the journey, right?

(She’s pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes, but she also doesn’t care anymore.)

So she kisses him, reaches across and hauls Killian down to meet her mouth by the front of the ridiculous vest his stupid rabbit costume is wearing. It’s the only redeeming factor of the whole thing, allowing her some form of leverage.

The kiss isn’t a gentle thing. Somehow, in her mind, Emma always imagined sweeping instrumentals as her and Killian’s lips brushed, hands stealing tentatively into hair and across cheeks. This is… not that. There’s a lot of tongue and a bit of teeth (mostly on her part) and honestly, the word she’s looking for to describe this is probably closest to devour. After waiting so goddamn long there just doesn’t seem to be a point in taking it slow; instead, she’d rather try to make up for every missed second, all at once. Not that Killian seems opposed to it. Rather, he seems determined to pull Emma as close as humanly possible, like if she’s just plastered tight enough to his front he can feel her through his ridiculous bulky rabbit suit.

Eventually, the franticness starts to settle into something easier, tongues giving way to lips, nipping giving way to sucking. They’ve finally perfected the angle too, noses just barely brushing as their mouths meet. Emma’s hands have settled on his chest, faux-furred as it is, and Killian’s have begun to creep down from her hips towards her ass. After his talk about being tormented by the sightline down her shirt, Emma would have figured he was a boob man, but hey, she’s not opposed to this development either…

Until he reaches the stupid fluffball on the seat of her pants and pulls.

Emma jerks back at that. “Did you just tweak my tail?” she demands, staring at him incredulously.

“Couldn’t help myself, love,” he teases, dropping a little kiss on her nose. “You make a bloody cute Easter Bunny.”

“Oh my God, file that under ‘things I never want to hear again’,” Emma groans, but she’s smiling too. It’s hard not to, now that she gets to enjoy his playful side. “C’mon, we’ve got to finish hiding these eggs… but maybe you can come back to my burrow afterwards.” She even throws in a wink for good measure, now that there’s no reason they can’t have a little fun.

“I’m holding you to that, love,” he says, crossing back to his wagon as Emma collects her own fabric grocery sack full of eggs. Once they’re both collected again, his terrifying rabbit head perched in the wagon’s bucket, Killian offers his free pawto her. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, alright.”

They’ve barely started walking again before the realization hits Emma, making her groan.

“What is it, love?” Killian asks, his voice full of concern.

“Nothing to worry about, not really,” she quickly clarified. “I just realized… if this is Mary Margaret and David’s idea of a set up, I’m going to kill them.”

Killian laughs uproariously at that, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Ah, well, all’s well that ends well, right?”

(As it turns out, no one really believes Mary Margaret when she tries to claim that this is exactly what she had planned all along. Distraction induced by morning sickness is much more believable, after all, than setting up two people to fall in love as the Easter Bunnies.)

(Emma and Killian are a little too busy doing some other things like rabbits to care too much.)

[trainsinanime]

Miraculous Ladybug

I've mentioned this show here a few times over the past few days, but I wanted to write something more general about why I love and recommend it. The thing is that I'm not really sure I have much to say, because the show is conceptually rather simple. But make no mistake: I love it so much that today, I travelled to a foreign country just to buy DVDs of it in the original french.

For the record: The show is officially called "Miraculous - Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir", or in the original french, « Miraculous - Les Aventures de Ladybug et Chat Noir ». Important for finding the show in any sort of electronic library, but to the best of my knowledge, nobody actually uses that enormous title.

That aside, the show focuses on two french teenagers who are classmates, our main hero Marinette and Adrien, who transform into superheroes Ladybug and Chat Noir to fight the monster of the week, who was literally always sent by series big bad « Le Papillion » (or "Hawk Moth" in english).

The show's official unique selling point is probably that the shipping is off the hook: While Ladybug and Chat Noir always work together, neither knows the civilian identity of the other. And Marinette is secretly in love with Adrien, while Adrien is secretly in love with Ladybug. The resulting mess is handled in ways that are generally charming and delightful, and have resulted in almost fandom shipping wars between things like Adrienette, Marichat, Ladychat or Ladrien, all relationships that play out differently (or rather focus on different aspects) even though they're all literally involving the same people.

I generally love how the show handles this, because it's real unique selling point is just that it's straight-up adorable. All the main characters are adorable in different ways, and even the villain gets a few moments in, e.g. in Gigantitan. My personal favorite, by the way: Marinette's best friend Alya. She's awesome, fearless and always 100% committed whether it's necessary or not.

The show is also fundamentally just nice. No matter what happens, nobody dies, and every mess gets magically cleaned up by the end of the episode, which leads to hilarious logic where tricking the bad guy into destroying the Eiffel Tower is a valid problem solving approach. The civilian plot also generally involves something that would be cringe-worthy in other situations, like a ridiculous "Notice me senpai" scheme, but always makes sure to resolve it in a way that feels wholesome and heartwarming. While things may seem embarrassing for a moment, our heroes are (usually) never really humiliated. I cannot stress how much I love that part.

A show that's really always about being nice to its characters may not be everyone's cup of tea; not even mine all of the time. But there's only so much Buffy and Jessica Jones and Neon Genesis Evangelion I can watch before starting to dig a literal pit of despair in my living room, and that only leads to complaints from the people living downstairs. Ladybug leaves me smiling and hopeful about the world, and I love all the characters and the generally fun action. For me that's reason enough to watch it.

Plot and structure wise, it's a bit more old-school than you normally see these days. The plot of every episode is fairly formulaic, and arcs and continuity are more hinted at than a core concept. The show is literally designed so that episodes can be (and in fact are, for no obvious reason) broadcast almost in a random order. That's honestly not a point I love that much. It means character development and development of the central ships is a fairly slow process and generally not the real focus of any given episode. I don't find that super-annoying, but you will find people on here who do, and I can certainly understand where they're coming from.

On the plus side, the predictable nature means that it's great if you're watching it to help get better at french, because you can basically miss any given amount of words or lines and still be able to follow the plot with no major issues. I know this sounds like a super-backhanded compliment, but that's not my intention here. What I do understand (which is way more than I expected even though it's been years since I last used my school french) is great, and it makes me want to look up words and phrases to understand even more. Especially the cat puns that Chat Noir keeps making.

The real problem of the show lies elsewhere: Finding a place to watch it. At least in Germany, Netflix has only season one and half of season two (season three is currently airing). Oh, and the french subtitles on Netflix seem to be a translation of the english subtitles of the english dub, so the best you can hope for is that they're vaguely similar to the french language track, and at times they're not even that. Getting it via iTunes isn't an option either, because both the german iTunes store and the stores of other countries (for which I could easily get gift cards anyway) either have nothing or only season 1 (often split in four parts to confuse you). The best option appears to be to order the french DVDs from somewhere online. Alternatively, you could of course just travel to your nearest french speaking country in the hopes of getting them there. That's why I found myself in Liége, Belgium this morning.

That plan actually didn't work out; neither of the MediaMarkt stores I went to had them, and then I realized that I had no idea where else to look. Still, it was a nice day, once the rain cleared up anyway. The old Aachen-Liége railway line alone is always worth a visit. Anyway, the fact that I even tried this at all might tell you (apart from the fact that I had nothing better to do) that I really liked the one-and-a-half seasons I have seen.

[danbensen]

…or how tracking my life told me I was abusing coffee and social media

So there I was, my nails digging into my palms, my right molars pressed into each other. The air hissed in through my nose as my vision narrowed to a point. It was like hurtling down a roller-coaster. It was was terrifying, and I had no idea why it was happening.

I’d be doing nothing especially ominous – sitting down on the couch, carrying my younger daughter, thinking about bread – and suddenly I’d be gripped by this intense sensation of danger. BREAD! The image of a whole-grain loaf gained the mass of a church bell. DOOM! It rang. Toll the yeasty knell, oh brazen fate, for all men shall one day die. Die, oh, mortal flesh. Die and meet thy baker. (whoo! I am so sorry about that pun. Deep breaths now…)

Tiny drops of steam Ebb and flow before the light With each of my breaths.

It was ridiculous, but of course knowing that it was ridiculous didn’t help. I was like a cat, freaking out for no reason. Or was there no reason? Aren’t I supposed to listen to my body, now that I’m meditating and whatnot? But what exactly was my body supposed to be telling me? Avoid carbs? Run from the couch? Something about my daughter…? Yeah, If I searched hard enough for a reason to be terrified, I’d surely find one. Now there’s a reason for fear.

So I meditated more. I stopped using social media. I took my daughters to the park and watched the sky as it changed from brass to rose and the street lights blinked on. I talked to Pavlina. And I realized that over the course of the past month, I’d gone from drinking two cups of coffee a day to four.

The trees turn black and The sky, indescribable. Look up and it’s changed.

Scheduling is hard. My older daughter’s in first grade now, and school starts at 8:10 in the Center. The younger one’s in kindergarten, which starts at 8:30 in Levski G. At some point, it would be nice if Pavlina and I could go to work, which is back in the Center. If we want to have breakfast and drink our coffee in peace, we need to wake up at 6:15. Three hours later, I’m finally in the office and I’m tired. That scares me because I associate being tired with being sick. Fatigue=death.

I’m supposed to listen to my body, but my body is a stupid animal. It’s not going to say, “you’re drinking too much coffee.” It says “coffee reminds me of being happy!” and “not being productive scares me!” It says “I’m tired! I must have cancer again!” It’s up to me to keep track of what I’m doing, cut out the distractions, and give myself enough mental room to notice the patterns.

Right. So that’s why I’m not doing social media any more. Because part of the reason I was too distracted to notice I was drinking too much coffee was the last newsletter I wrote. I posted it on facebook, which made me want to check facebook for likes and comments. And once I was on facebook, why not see what other people are posting? Oh. Oh. That’s what they’re posting. Oh no.

I debated writing this explanation. Why not just stop using social media? Why talk about it on social media? But my litmus test for whether I should write something is “will this help people?” Maybe this is helpful: social media is distracting and depressing. It fills my head with noise. Maybe you have the same problem and this is the solution.

The sky at seven The color of hope that hurts And the crying swifts

I’ll continue to post my work on my website (including these newsletters) and mirror or link to those posts on Tumblr, Twitter, and Facebook. Readers are welcome to like and comment, but I’ll only read those comments once a week (Friday seems like a good day). Comments on my website, PMs, and emails to me will get my attention earlier. I won’t read any content that isn’t sent personally to me or that I didn’t sign up for. Hopefully that means I’ll still get news from people I care about, but not about tragedies that I have no power to solve. That way, I can continue to function from hour to hour.

What do you think? Is this going to work? Can I stay connected without sacrificing my mental health? Let me know in the comments. Or even better, email me.

In other news, I had some good writing stuff happen this month. Interchange has hit its 2/3 mark and, more importantly, its rhythm. I’ve managed to block off a fairly reliable 90-minute chunk of time in the mornings, which I use to meditate and then “speedwrite,” which means writing without thinking about what I’m doing. I generally end up with a single element of a scene, such as the conversation the characters are having, how they feel, what’s going on in the environment, or what actions the characters are taking.

Then I usually have some time after lunch (and my second and final coffee), and I can layer those scene-pieces onto each other and smooth the edges. If I have more time, I do research, which usually involves shooting messages to generous experts. In this way, the inestimable and inspiring Thomas Duffy helped me tie a ribbon around the center of my book, in which a biologist’s subconscious belief that she owns the environment she’s studying leads her to destroy it. As the forest crumbles around her, she blames herself…then makes exactly the wrong decision about what to do next. Yeah! Fiction! Thomas, I’m going to send you roses or cacti or something.

Another new tradition I’ve instituted is spending my Friday mornings not working on Interchange. It’s a little release of pressure, a chance to play and remind myself that writing isn’t just another chore I have to do. The first week, it was a short story. That one turned out so well, I’m going to try to publish it. It’s called “The Sales Event” and it’s about smart phones and general relativity. Do you want to beta-reader it?

I got another couple of “no”s from publishers about The Sultan’s Enchanter, but one of them was that very gratifying “no” that comes at the head of a long list of things I could do to fix the story. Making those fixes will be educational, even if that particular publisher still passes. Wealthgiver is rather like The Sultan’s Enchanter, after all, and the lessons I learn from one will be important for the other. The world needs more books about amoral Balkan people!

Yeah, I’m still working on Wealthgiver’s neo-Thracian language. I even posted a little of it on Tumblr. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten my little goats!

Kapt kapēnon ainē kesa / byźai darsai ypo dēsâ. Ēbron, aiźi, byźâs kâ / skalmon, bleptē, bystâs kâ, As tae yper iatśikan / kapâ pe ta ve abbrinkan.

There were at one time / brave goats under heaven. A kid, a nanny, and a billy goat / clever, loyal, and tough, Who would dance up / a hill for to make themselves fat.

Dâ ispilsen opē rinkon strymē / parân ân, śân târâ dymâ. Iśē iserpa źēryntē / źymlē mērē urdēnē. Byźulâs ada pyrân źilmân / dâ bolvarâs pia rhobton saimân.

But a quick-flowing river blocked / the path with an evil guard. There coiled a beast / a great water-dragon. A goat will eat green grains / but a serpent will slurp blood

Peskēnon ērga ēbron do. / Pliskon ērga śân negō. Źymlē zē semân iglytsa. / “Kis ēs tu?” Neston iglâtsa. “Semâs manon ēm ēźo.” / “San ar ēsti? Abadam so!”

First comes the kid. / It splashes with its hooves. The dragon heard this. / “Who are you?” she roared. “This only am I.” / “Is it so? I will eat you up!”

Things are heating up! I’m still not entirely comfortable with the articles and deitics, but I do like that last line. And the orthography is shaping up nicely. I love googly things over letters.

Another potential conlanging project for that other hundred years I plan to live: Western Hellenism. What if the Greeks had conquered Iberia?

And finally, PROTECTOR! This is the comic project I’ve been working on for literally six years. Words by me and Simon Roy, inks by Atryom Trakhanov, colors by Jason Wordie, and lettering by Hassan Otsmane-Elhadu. What a crazy, fun, glorious process this collaboration was!

Protector is a post-apocalyptic scifi story about a slave who stumbles across “a demon of the Profligate Age,” a military cyborg who’s been in hibernation for the past thousand years. The post-human robots who are terraforming the Earth are not amused, and send in some sweaty future-vikings to put a stop to these shenanigans.

There will be five issues, and issue one comes out in January. If you’re interested, please order a copy, or better yet, tell your local comic or book store to order lots of copies! Give us some numbers that will convince Image to ask for a sequel

And finally, some books and stuff

Daring Greatly by Brené Brown – this book wasn’t as transformative for me as it could have been because I’ve read Brown before and I already agree with her. Shame is bad. Vulnerability is the cure. Bam. What I like about Brown is that she collects good data, lets it prove her wrong, and suggests how the lessons from the data can be usefully applied. It’s not just science, it’s engineering.

Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold – I think this was the third read. What happens when GM humans become obsolete? What happens when an engineer has a spiritual epiphany? It wasn’t quite as much fun as some of Bujold’s other science fiction, but it has a lot of heart.

Spooky Action at a Distance by George Musser – an excellent physics book, examining the concept of space, which lies at the center of the contradictions of relativity and quantum physics. If space didn’t exist, the universe would be chaos, but a lot of experiments only make sense if space _doesn’t_ exist. Great stuff, and it inspired that short story I’m so proud of.

Death by Water by Kerry Greenwood – a refreshing splash of chilly New Zealand sea spray. Phryne pursues a jewel thief and has a little bit of sex, but a lot of good food, drink, and dancing. There’s also a hakka.

Wicked Prey by John Sandford – it was actually a little boring. The police’s side of the story didn’t hold up as well as the criminals’. But this is a relatively early book in the series, which means Sandford is improving.

The Upright Go Pro – it’s a little device that you glue to your upper back so it will buzz at you when you slouch. Immediately after I put it on, I realized I have little tiny tyrannosaurus arms that don’t reach any table or counter-top. It ran out of batteries one day and man did my back hurt that night. So I guess it’s working.

Gravity by Against the Current and Brighter by Patent Pending – Good Interchange music.

Be Kind to Yourself by Andrew Peterson – It makes me feel better.

Song of Durin by Clamavi De Profundis – I haven’t gotten goosebumps from a song in a long time. It’s about dwarves.

The Twits by Roald Dahl – I read it to my older daughter and boy howdy did Roald Dahl know how to write for children. Everything seems utterly ridiculous but it all somehow satisfies. Like eating dirt cake.

Steven Universe – My younger daughter found me rewatching it on my phone and made me cast it on the big TV. Now it’s all “I wanna watch Steeben dabout a Giant Woman. I’m Pearl.” No, younger daughter, you are not Pearl. Pearl is my older daughter. My younger daughter is Amethyst. Nobody is more Amethyst than my younger daughter. (I’m Peridot)

[mason-mem]

first pages of Michel Serres’ Malfeasance

I URINE, MANURE, BLOOD, SPERM

THE LIVED FOUNDATIONS OF

PROPERTY RIGHT

TIGERS PISS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR LAIR. And so do lions and dogs. Like those carnivorous mammals, many animals, our cousins, mark their territory with their harsh, stinking urine or with their howling, while others such as finches and nightingales use sweet songs.

To mark: the origin of this verb is the mark of a footstep left on the soil. In bygone days, the story goes, the whores of Alexandria used to carve their initials in reverse order on the soles of their sandals. This enabled prospective clients to read the imprints on the sand and discover both the desired person and the direction of her bed. The presidents of great brands promoted by advertisers on city billboards today would no doubt enjoy knowing that like good sons they are direct descendants of those whores.

Or perhaps they descend from creatures that mark the boundaries of their territory with their excrements. Similarly, certain plants throw out little invisible jets of acid . . . nothing grows in the frigid shadow of fir trees.

THE CLEAN AND THE DIRTY: ANIMAL CUSTOMS, HUMAN CUSTOMS

How do the living inhabit a place? How do they establish it, recognise it? Lions through smell, birds by hearing . . . advertisers and whores by sight. Here we have three senses on the alert. How do animals create links as powerful as the law is for humans, links that enable them to appropriate the habitat where they dwell and live?

The science of animal behaviour, ethology, describes at length those nests, holes, wallows, sheds, ecological niches .... in short, how males define and defend their habitats with their filth. These places are often secret, hidden, dark, buried, lost, places where the living eat, sleep, hibernate, copulate, give birth, and are born, in short survive; do they own or rent these places? How can we answer this question, which is perhaps a bit too anthropomorphic? We can easily turn it around.

In The Parasite, I described the customs of mammals in order to compare them to hominine ways of appropriation. Whoever spits in the soup keeps it; no one will touch the salad or the cheese polluted in this way. To make something its own, the body knows how to leave some personal stain: sweat on a garment, saliva or feet put into a dish, waste in space, aroma, perfume, or excrement, all of them rather hard things . . . but also my name, printed in black on this book cover, where my signature looks sweet and innocent, seemingly unrelated to those habits. And yet. . . . Hence the theorem of what might be called natural right. By "natural" I mean the general behavior of living species: appropriation takes place through dirt. More precisely, what is properly one's own is dirt.

The spit soils the soup, the logo the object, the signature the page: property, propriety, or cleanliness. The same word tells of the same struggle; in French, it has the same origin and the same meaning.1 Property is marked, just as the step leaves its imprint. Conversely, I should re-mark—yes!—that a hotel makes the rooms clean and proper to make them available for others. Otherwise, no one would come. Conversely, clean and proper here implies there is no well-defined owner yet, and that it is freely accessible. In short, either proper means appropriated and consequently dirty or proper implies really neat and therefore without an owner. Come over here, to this clean spot; you may, because it obviously welcomes you. When you leave, it will be yours because you will have made it dirty. No one will want to sleep in your sheets, nor handle your used towel, nor drink from your glass seeded with bacteria from the imprint of your lips. You appreciate the cleaning done in a hotel. The cleaner it looks, the more hospitable it will seem to everyone. At home, I take care of the garbage and occupy a space called by the delightful name of powder room. Long ago, we hardly dared to translate the famous quote stercus suum cuique bene olet,1 "one's own excrement smells good." This is still true of noise; one's own noise is not bothersome. This is also true of many types of trash. It is again true of small children who have similar behaviours at the anal stage.

THE EXPROPRIATED SQUAT Discreetly, dictionaries define squatter, as the term indicates, as someone who occupies the surface of the land on which he crouches. This would take up little space; only a dwarf could lie down on such a spot. No, squatting describes the crouching posture of defecation and that of females when they piss or give birth.

The origin of the old French verb es-quatir, originally used in the Far West and Australia, is first related to the verb co-acticare, the old curious root of cogito, through co-agere or co-agitarey" indeed, my thoughts move around in me like a large assembly of sheep in the meadows. Now, farmers in these two New Worlds led even larger herds on lands that they considered to be without owners, even as their grazing and their presence expropriated Indians or Aborigines who had been living there before them, albeit without title deed, at least according to common law. So there was nothing about this term that would imply crouching. As soon as it acquires that meaning, it can be linked to the earlier one: to invade and possess. The fact remains that animals never leave places free of droppings as they trot along.

FROM THE HOME TO THE FARM

I will now go from the soup, polluted by spit, to the dirty sheets, or from the table to the bed, to get from individual appropriation to family property, from the city rat to the field rat. Indeed, the arable square of land, the stretch of vineyard or alfalfa, the pagus of the ancient Latins, properly belonged to the peasant tribe because the bodies of ancestors were buried there, in tombs or under stone slabs. Did you know that the word paix, peace, comes from pieu, the stake that marked the boundary of the tilled pagus? The mortuary slab was also used as a boundary around which peaceful relations with neighbours could be established. I'll end my remarks with a discussion of this peace.

I will also explain how the aforementioned peasant or pagan—same terms similarly derived from pagus— appropriated this patch of land in the same quasi-animal fashion. Is there anything more disgusting than what has no name in any language: the stench emanating from a mass grave? Except perhaps the stench of manure spread out at the appropriate season to improve, enrich, and fertilise the soil. Perhaps you doubt that the main reason to cover the field with this biodegradable layer of fatty fertiliser, this urine nitrogen, is for the sake of appropriation. However, I would still like to convince you that I find here a possible origin of agriculture. When the first human enclosed a plot of land and thought of telling his children, his parents, and his wife to imitate him and his animals by depositing some of their urine and faeces in order to make it a piece of earth belonging to the family, he noticed with surprise, come spring and summer, that the polluted field was greener and more productive than the neighbouring soil. Could he possibly have founded the farming profession and rural society with this act?

As you travel, do admire that peaceful—same word as pagus—landscape, beautifully divided, of the old countries of Europe; their rural spaces display fertilising manure and the Cities of the Dead.

l. Professor Serres plays on the various meanings of the French propre, which means both "clean" and "one's own," or "characteristic of." The French title Le Mai propre is itself a pun on several levels: mal is evil, combined with propre; it thus signifies "clean evil," but malpropre in one word also means dishonest, sleazy, despicable. I have chosen to emphasize the combination of evil and dishonest by translating the title as "Malfeasance," which has similar connotations. [All notes are from translator.]

2. Latin proverb, provenance uncertain, quoted by Michel de Montaigne, in Essais, III, VIII.

3. Co-agitare: from the Latin co- (together) and agitare (to move around, revolve).

inspired by @aazzure 2019.19.14