#when I first heard the plot synopsis years ago I was really turned away by it

[lockerlungs]

Ultraman Rising is amazing and I've rewatched it like 3 times

Also it has Neronga so it's immediately removed of all criticism

[theageofcaravel]

Rose-Coloured boy. - Jamie Tartt x F!reader

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

MASTERLIST

Chapter II: Lovely to Sit Between Comfort and Chaos

Plot: Jamie Tartt and Y/N have been best friends since primary school. The pair had fallen out once graduation hit, both of them going their separate ways; Jamie finally kicking off (pun intended) his football career, and Y/N finally walking through the doors of her cinematographer career. One day, they cross paths in the corridors of Nelson Road, Y/N getting the assignment to make a mini docuseries of one of the football clubs in England, hers being AFC Richmond.

Set during season 2 and onward.

warnings: swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, parental issues, very light angst, some fluff(?)

word count: 4,2k

an: another chapter out WOOHOOO!!!! !! thank you guys for all the love on the first chapter, it seriously means SO MUCH!!! The italicised parts are basically a background synopsis! I was also thinking of making a cast list so you know what I had in mind with the characters that I added in 'n stuff!! I have a master post that has a Pinterest board with visuals and pictures of like 4 additional characters (Bee, Libby and two new characters that are introduced within this chapter <3) but I think it would be rather fun to make mood board for each of the added cast members or something!! Let me know <3!! I also wrote this half-awake and have not proof-read it. ANYWAY, ENJOY ILY!!!!! <3

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

“Alright, just sit like that,” you told Sam and fixed the collar on his shirt, in which he responded with a smile and a thumbs up. “Okay, so, first question,” you looked at him and nodded promptly, “what exposed you to the world of football?” 

The rest of the day went like that, all of the boys getting a plethora of different questions and them all answering dutifully and happily. Jamie, of course, opted for last. “It's saving the best for last.” he told you with a hand patting his chest and a sly smirk plastered on his lips “God, you’re intolerable.” you told him and he laughed. 

That cocky bastard. That cocky bastard whom you’ve known since you were little, the one who just magically popped into your life when you needed it, the one who would let you sneak through his window late at night because your mum and dad had another argument, the one who was with you every step of the way after your parents inevitably divorced, the one who would help you with Libby whilst your mum was away at work, the one who left you as an afterthought once you guys graduated, the one who would read your texts and then turned the read receipts off, the one who had probably a million deleted voicemails from you while you were drunk or when … Yeah, that cocky bastard. Yet, seeing him again just made it seem like the last parts never happened. It was easy to forgive and forget, especially once you really gave up on your friendship, but you knew that there needed to be some reprimanding every now and again to get it through his head that if he thinks you can truly be friends again, he needs to get his act back in check. 

You heard about what happened when he left Richmond to go to Manchester United a year ago, and while it made you excited that he was finally back, he never reached out to you or mentioned to you that he was back. You heard from his mum, Georgie, who was practically like a second mother to you. It aggravated you just a tiny bit that Jamie wasn’t the one who told you anything, but at least his mum cared enough. You weren’t in London until recently, you transferred your credits in the middle of your second year and that's where you met Beatrice, or Bee. Your life changed after that, you met some of the coolest people you could ever meet. 

“‘Ello? Earth to Y/N?” Jamie asked, his brow raised. Apparently whilst you were packing up the room, you were hyper focused on a box and never moved for at least 3 minutes. “Y’lost in thought there, dollface?” he quipped, the nickname made you whip your head toward the other who had a grin on his face. 

“Oh, god. I haven’t heard you call me that since college.” shaking your head, you picked up the box and set it away to the side. “But I guess y’could say that or somethin’.”

“What’s it you were thinkin’ ‘bout, hm?” he inched toward you and you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Mostly jus’ silly things.”

“How do you mean?” 

“Forgiving and forgetting is a strange happening, Mister Tartt.” you paused with a shrug of your shoulders, “especially when we’re gettin’ close again ‘cause of a project I was assigned for uni. Or attempting to.”

“Attempting to?”

“Mhm, it's weird havin’ you back in my life, Jamie.” you turned your full body to him, “but thats no matter, right? Said I was an adult and can get past all that ignorin’ me business because now you can’t do that.” with a chuckle, Jamie shrugged. 

“How could you be so sure?” 

“‘Cause you promised and you’re not one to break a promise, now are you?” you squinted at him and pointed to your pinky basically reminding him of a few weeks ago. 

He nodded, “Suppose y’re right there, Y/N.” 

“‘Course I am, I always am.”

“Alright, don’t get all cocky on me now.” 

“You’re one to talk.” you said, sticking your tongue out. Jamie shook his head and began to walk out the door before turning toward you again. 

“Y’doin’ anythin’ for lunch?” he asked and you nodded in response. “Yeah, got plans with the friends. They came here on our day off to see what the hype was about ‘n all.”

“Oh, that’s fun. Sounds like a good time.” 

You nod, “yeah, would’ya wanna join? Unless if theres something you’re doing thats super important after lunch?” you tilted your head and he shook his head.

“Nah. s’a half day for us.” He replied, you replied with another nod of your head.

“So..” you began, looking at him expectedly, “you taggin’ along or not? M’sure Bee ‘n Mick would love some insight from someone that basically lives here. Me included.” flashing him a hopeful grin, he sighed. 

“Don’t see why not.”

“Wicked! Lets go.”

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Hey! Jamie is gonna tag along. 

Hope thats okay?

Told him that it would be good to get insight from someone who lives here.

Get the whole tourist experience. 

Pressing send on the last text, you turned to Jamie and smiled. 

“You’re gonna love Bee, I promise.” 

“Why’re you reassurin’ me?” he asked, brows knitted together. 

“Dunno, thought you’d need it.” you shrugged and looked at your phone when you heard Bee’s special ringtone; the sound of, well, a bee.

“S’that her ringtone?” Jamie asked and chuckled. You nodded and looked at the texts she sent back. 

Oh, GOOD!

That’s brilliant actually, cos I can finally kick his ass

Joking, of course

But yeah that sounds perfect

Didn’t really know what you’d show us anyway, since you haven’t really been here… you know

JOKES again!!

You rolled your eyes and stopped in your tracks to respond to your bestest friend in the whole world. 

Riiiight. 

I could, you know, leave you lot stranded if I really wanted 

But fortunately for you, m a good friend. 

Hence why I asked Jamie to join.

Where are we meeting again?

You set your phone back into your pocket when Bee texted back with the designated location you had all agreed on earlier this morning in the groupchat. 

“Alrighty, so, Bee said that we should meet at The Crown and Anchor.” you said, basically making your statement come out as a question. 

“Hm, yeah, that’s a good place to meet up,” he nodded and walked into the locker room and you stayed back waiting for him to change out of his kit. 

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

“Right, let's go then, shall we?” Jamie asked, walking out of the room, his bum bag strapped over his torso. You nodded and slung your jacket over your shoulders. You both walked toward the doors, Jamie jogging ahead of you to open the door. 

“Ever the gentleman.” you said and scrunched your nose at him, he bowed his head in your direction. You waited for him before he stood beside you, “how far is the walk from here?”

“Uhhh, dunno. We won’t need to walk, though. I got me car keys.” Jamie opened his bag and pulled the latter out. “See?” 

You blinked, “right, forgot you drive here.” 

Following behind him, you watched as he walked up to a cherry red Plymouth Fury. Your jaw practically fell to the floor, “holy shit, this is yours?!” you practically squeaked. You looked up at Jamie who had a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“This thing has a name.” he said and unlocked the gorgeous car. You blinked and opened the door on the passenger side. 

When you were younger, probably year 11, give or take, you and Jamie were having your weekly late night at your house. You both opted to watch a horror movie, which was usually the thing you guys would choose. Even if it was one you both have already watched together. He thought it was funny when you’d get scared and cover your eyes haphazardly with your hands, still peeking through your fingers. This specific night, you guys chose one about a possessed car. 

“It better be Christine or somethin’, ‘cause if not I’m afraid you’re gonna have to rename it.” you smirked at him and turned to him, reminiscing in the memory of watching the movie about this exact model of car. 

“Psh, how could I not name her Christine?” he tsked and brushed his hand over the car’s dashboard. 

“How did you manage to get the wheel on the right side? Ain’t this brand of car American or somethin’? And how the fuck did you, letalone, manage to even GET one?” You asked, practically bug eyed. 

“Cost a hell of a lot of money, that’s for fuckin’ sure. They had to rewire it ‘n give it new parts ‘n such.” he said matter factly and you nodded, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Listen to how she purrs though.” he never got rid of the shit-eating grin on his face. He placed the keys in the ignition and set the car off. 

You chuckled and smiled wide, “holy fuck, this is incredible.” 

The brunet beside you nodded and pulled out of his parking spot, “she’s perfect, s’kinda hard to get her fixed sometimes though, s’pecially ‘cause Plymouth ain’t really a thing anymore.” 

“Yeah, I bet. Probably costs an arm and a leg, too. But you probably don’t have to worry about the money situation much, seein’ how you’re a professional footballer ‘n all.” watching the other cars pass by, you admired the feeling of being around Jamie again, the smile on your face never leaving your lips. 

“Y’said The Crown ‘n Anchor right?” 

“Mhm.”

“Right.” he nodded and tapped his hand along the steering wheel. 

You both sat in silence, listening to the hum of the 63 year old car and the low sound of music emitting from the stereo, it was comfortable. 

“I’m excited for you to meet Bee ‘n Mickey,” you started and looked over at him, “Bee might reprimand you though..” 

He looked over at you with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on; a mix of amusement and panic. 

“She means well, I promise, but remember how you left me all those years ago? Yeah, might’ve said some stuff with a drink or two in my system.” 

Shaking his head, “nah, s’good. I kinda figured, been preparing meself since we left the car park at the stadium.” 

You chuckled at his remark and folded your arms across your torso. Soon you guys were parked on the side of the street. You quickly got out of the car and scanned for your two friends. 

“Y/N!!” You heard Bee call, you turned your head toward the sound and beamed. 

“Hi, egghead.” You said and walked up to them, Jamie in tow, “this is Jamie.” 

“Holy shit, you’re Jamie Tartt.” Mickey chimed in, basically shadowing behind your best mate, the smile on his face only grew when Jamie nodded. 

“That I am, so you’re a fan?” Jamie asked in his coy tone, which was soon interrupted by Bee squinting at him and he stepped back slightly. She pointed her index finger at him, “you.” 

It was funny how Bee didn’t have to look up at Jamie, they were the same height. Bee was one of your tallest friends. You folded your arms across your torso waiting for whatever the girl was gonna say to your not-so-innocent looking ex-best friend. “Leave Y/N like you did again and no one on the face of this earth will ever hear from you again.” From the corner of your peripheral you could see Jamie practically gulp. Bee laughed, “I’m just fuckin’ with ya, mate. You did hurt her though, don’t do it again.” With a scared laugh Jamie looked at you with a ‘are you gonna do anything about this chick who just threatened my life?!’ look. You shrugged and shook your head. 

“Your fault, not mine.” You chuckled and bumped your hip against his. “But this is just how she is, but you’re not the one to see the worst of her ‘Bee Sting.’ No one really is, but she is really good at giving the occasional, ‘I will thump you upside the head’ look.” 

“Alright..” Jamie whispered and you shook your head. 

“She’s tellin’ the truth.” Bee nodded and began to walk ahead of you, Mickey in tow. 

“So, whos the good lookin��� bloke?” Jamie asked wiggling his eyebrows at you and you replied with an amused cackle and a shake of your head. 

“That’s Mickey, Bee’s boyfriend.” You looked at him expectedly and he just nodded. 

“Ah, makes sense. How long have they been datin’?” 

“Oh, fuck, since the end of college I think, they’ve been together for as long as I’ve known them.” 

“Cool.”

You nodded and walked into the small pub, the warm lighting making you feel all light inside. 

Jamie was instantly greeted by the older lady behind the bar, “‘Ello, Mae!” he replied to her. The older lady asked if it was just him, in which he replied with a shake of his head. “Nah, with some mates.” he gestured to the three of you standing beside him.

“Well, any mate of Jamie’s is a mate of ours.” the grey haired lady told the group and you guys thanked her before finding a place to sit.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly, Bee, Jamie and Mickey already had an inside joke when you had idiotically fallen for one of Bee’s stupid jokes. Jamie thought it was the funniest thing for the remainder of the time you were all together and for the life of him, would not stop bringing it up.

“Remember when you went to the loo and came back and Bee went –”

Before he could finish his sentence, the other two would giggle or you would playfully hit his shoulder, “Yes, Jamie, how could I forget something that happened to me earlier?”

You and Jamie both bid Bee and Mickey farewell, you all agreeing to hangout again together in the near future. It made your heart swell with how well Jamie fit in with your small group. 

Your trio had quickly became a quartet.

“Will you need a ride home?” Jamie asked you when you hopped into the passenger seat. 

“Nah, Frank will take me home and don’t think I could spend another 30 minutes with you.” You joked and he placed a hand over his heart in faux offence. 

“Wowww, you wound me.” 

You laughed with him when he started the car, the drive seemed only shorter this time. 

“I’ll see y’tomorrow right?” Jamie asked you and you nodded. 

“Mhm, but I won’t be here until the afternoon, gotta get anythin’ from my teachers that ain’t online and turn in anythin’ that I finished last week.”

“Alright, I’ll be here.” 

You waved Jamie goodbye before hopping in the back of Frank’s cab. 

“Evenin’, Y/N!” he greeted you with the widest smile, which you couldn’t help but mirror. 

Your entire ride home was pretty much spent talking about your afternoon and the stories that unfolded during. Frank, of course, listened and added in his own stories of the day but mentioned how he wished that his friends were still lively like your group.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

The next day couldn’t have come any faster than it did, you had an idea to run by the team, and when you did, they had all excitedly agreed to partake in the events. 

“Alright, boys, how would you feel if I took you on a grand tour of my university? You could meet all of the teachers, maybe even have a little football camp of sorts? I could get the word out quickly and have the students bring along their siblings ‘n stuff?” you had asked and the boys, even the coaches had excitedly all gotten up and cheered at the top of their lungs. 

“Alright, alright!” you intercepted their excitement and shook your head, “while I love your enthusiasm, this won’t take place until next week because of the game that you lot have on Saturday.” much to your surprise, the excited noises never ceased which only caused you to jump up and down. 

“I’ll get the details out to you guys by tomorrow! I’ll talk to the dean and see any other ideas that she may have!” You clapped your hands together and soon left the locker room with the boys. They all chatted amongst each other happily, you listening closely to any of the conversations where your name was brought up.

Another day of filming more of their training, including what the coaches talk about on the sidelines. Unfortunately, the day had ended up turning hectic, more action than one single person could ever film had happened. You ended up having a shitty recording of everything that had occurred. The mics had ended up not working. You had to scramble around to get every perfect shot you could.. 

It was miserable. 

You had ended up talking to Professor Loughty, who, per usual, listened to your insight and agreed. However, you were going to be paired up with a student that was a transfer from New York University. And while having a buddy from a school like NYU, you had no idea what they were going to be like. 

Were they going to be full of themselves? Critical of your work? Not easy to work with?

“Hey.” an American voice spoke and you looked up at the taller boy in front of you. “I’m Caspar.” he smiled and reached his hand out to you. “Looks like I’m your new partner.” 

You smiled back, automatically being drawn to whatever kind energy this guy possessed. 

“Y/N.” you took his hand in yours and examined his features. He had long curly hair, just above his shoulders. He was sporting an older baggy sweater and a pair of corduroy trousers. His sneakers were old and worn down, but it suited him. “You already seem so cool?” you said, in a question, and he beamed. 

“Thank you.” 

You nodded and looked over at your professor, “does Frank know that he’s gonna have an extra person in his cab?” he responded with a nod. “He definitely should.”

With another nod, you slung your bag over your shoulder and basically grabbed Caspar by his arm, “alright, well, seeing that I’m headed back over to Richmond at,” a pause, looking down at your bare wrist, “well, now, I think it would be fit if I introduced you to the team!”

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Whilst in the car, you had gone over what has happened so far and Caspar nodded attentively and added some insights on what he could do. It was already nice to have another set of hands to help, instead of having to beg one of the boys, mostly Jamie, to stay back and help you pack. 

When Frank had pulled back into Nelson Road you waved the old man goodbye, your mood already 100 times better than the day prior. “Let me give you a mini tour and introduce you to Rebecca.”

Caspar nodded and followed behind you like a taller shadow. You showed him all around, basically doing the tour that Rebecca had given you; including all of the side comments about how disgusting some of the rooms were. When you had made basically a full circle, you knocked on Rebecca’s door and pressed your palm onto the door to open it up. 

“Hi, Y/N!” Rebecca greeted and got up from her rolly chair. She wrapped her arms around you and looked over at the other presence in her room. “Oh, goodness, I’m so rude.” She pulled away and held out a hand for Caspar. “You must be Caspar? Your professor emailed me not too long ago talking about how you were going to join Y/N in the production process, which I think is brilliant.”

Caspar gently shook her hand and smiled at the way Rebecca was so welcoming, “well, I can’t imagine doing a job like this all by yourself, yet Y/N did it on her own for … how long?” he asked and turned to you. 

“Almost three weeks now?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t handle that on my own.” the three of you chuckled. 

“Have you met the boys yet?” Rebecca asked with her brows raised, she looked over at you. You shook your head and pointed to the door. “I was just about to introduce him to ‘em.”

“I see,” she nodded and pursed her lips, “between us three? They’re a lot to handle sometimes.”

“Amen to that, sister.” you said and waved Rebecca goodbye, “I’ll be back around for lunch?” you asked her and she replied with a thumbs up. You looked up at Caspar, “you’re joining, by the way, Cas. You’ll get to meet Keeley, she’s an angel sent from heaven.” 

He smiled at the nickname and nodded his head, “sounds good to me, Y/N/N.” 

You giggled at his reciprocation of nicknames and pulled him down the stairs and down the hallway to the locker room. “When I first came here, Rebecca told me that this room reeks of stinky men, and I have to agree, so just prepare your nose, yeah?” you said to him and he nodded with a salute of his hand. 

“Got it.” 

“Alright, you lot, you guys dressed?” You asked after you lightly tapped your knuckles on the door in an irregular pattern. The boys replied with preoccupied yeses and you waltzed in, “OI.” you said and their attention was soon yours. Much like how Rebecca had introduced you, you introduced Caspar and the boys had all greeted him. Except this time, no one had prior knowledge of who he was. 

“He’s going to help me around here for the remainder of the time that I’m filming for you stinky boys.” You scrunched your nose at the last part and got a few shakes of heads and a thumbs up from Coach Beard. 

“Well, welcome to the family, Cas.” Coach Lasso walked up to you both once the introduction was complete. The smile on Cas’ lips only seemed to grow. 

“He gave me a nickname on my first day, too. Ain’t that right, Theo?” 

“Exactamundo, Y/N/N.” Ted replied and you have him a high five. 

“We’re very glad that you’re here.” Beard added in from the side and Roy only grunted. 

With a crinkled brow at the thick-browed man, you bumped your elbow into Caspar’s side gently. “Don’t take it personally, just how he is.”

“Yeah, but the dusty old fart could learn a thing or two about human decency.” Jamie said walking up to you two while glaring at Roy. He stuck his tongue out at the older and then looked at you two. You both had goofy grins on your lips. 

“This is Jamie.” you pointed to the boy who was wearing his headband, a few loose strands peeking out slightly. “Jamie, Casper.” you then pointed to the curly-haired boy. They both greeted each other and then after that, the rest of the team did their introductions to him. At that moment you decided to step away from the limelight and stand in the corner, beaming with how welcoming this team was. 

“Hey.” Jamie said and sat down beside you. 

“Hiya.” You replied and smiled up at him. 

“Glad you have some help ‘round here, if I’m honest, yesterday was a shit show.”

You glared at him, “well damn, tell me how you really feel.” there was sarcasm laced within your words and Jamie shrugged when he realised that you were being playful and not taking any offence. 

“Yeah, can’t believe you went this long without having some help.”

“Excuse me, I’ve had help.” you pressed your lips together in a thin line and then smirked. “‘Specially from you, Tartt.” 

He blinked and shrugged, “guess you’re right.” 

“I am, because it did happen.”

Jamie shook his head and leaned down to retie his boots. “Right, well, are you gonna be filmin’ on the pitch today?”

You shook your head, “not today, I was thinkin’ about goin’ over all of the things so far and whatever else we need to get with Cas.”

Jamie nodded and then stood up when Coach Lasso told everyone to head outside. 

“See you later then?” he asked and you nodded, getting up yourself. 

“Mhm, later, skater.”

Within seconds the whole team excited the locker room, leaving you and Caspar on your own. 

“So? How does it feel?” you asked him and walked up to his side.

“How does what feel?” he asked, seemingly in a trance.

“Being welcomed into the ‘pack’ or whatever?” you internally cringed at your wording, but it caused a happy laugh to come from the male’s lips. 

“It’s definitely nice. I feel like I’ve known at least a few of the boys for years.”

“Oh yeah, they’ll do that to you.” You responded and patted his back. “Alright, there’s some things that I wanna go over and if you have any additional ideas that you think would fit in with our schedule ‘n stuff just let me know, yeah?” you asked him as you both walked out of the locker room and down the hallway into your makeshift office. 

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Perfect!”

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

TAGLIST:  @jamietarttdodo @tortilla-maria1 @taytaylala12 @salgachode @skewedcherries @spiderywoo (IT WOULDNT LET ME TAG YOU IM SO SORRY!!! I CAN KEEP ON TRYING)

[iyeonjuni]

MONOCHROME — eighteen: true red

synopsis: ever since he was born, soobin had psychic empathy powers. he has the ability to read, manipulate and absorb other people’s emotions as his own based on the colors of their auras. but what happens when he meets y/n, who’s emotions he cannot read, manipulate or even take from at all?

word count: 1.1k

warnings: alcohol consumption

prev / masterlist / next

a/n: sorry for the long wait, welcome back monochrome! AND it's time for PLOT (we are only at the beginning)

-

From bad first impressions to working together as a team. Y/N and Soobin never would have thought they would make it this far into their shared project with one another. 

After a whole year, the movie they have both been working on has finally come to a close and that the premiere was about to begin. 

Actors and actresses dressed in formal attire, there were many reporters attending the red carpet of the night. Y/N and Soobin stood on the sidelines as they waited for their cue to walk with their team. 

As they walked into the theatre, they sat at the very back, the screen turning pitch black before the film rolled.

Monochrome. 

Three years ago.

There was once a student who attended Hybe High. 

She was born into a wealthy family, everyone was jealous of her background, connections and achievements at such a young age. She was the heiress, and the school desired to grow closer to her. 

It was one day, on a rainy summer night— she vanished. With no clue in sight, she disappears in thin air.

Three years later.

Kwon Ryu, a student at Hybe High was about to finish his final year. Though everytime he walks past his classmates, everyone seems to avoid him. It wasn’t until one day, someone wrote him a letter and left it in his locker— no signature just a question.

‘Where is Lee Mia?’

And somehow Kwon Ryu remembers, everytime he walks the hallways he would always hear his name along with another. Lee Mia. That was her name, the girl who he heard— went missing three years ago. 

The next day, he sees colours. He sees red, yellow and purple channelling behind people’s backs. It is then he finds out the colours he’s seeing represent emotions. 

He doesn’t remember Lee Mia, nor the existence of her. But yet, an undeniable force pulls against his heartstrings to find out. 

He began with his school, Hybe High.

“Tragic, isn’t it?” Y/N hears Soobin whisper against Y/N’s ear during the movie and you turn towards him. The dim light of the movie shining on his face. You nod at his words, you know how the movie ends. 

“It’s all him.” Y/N continues as she turns back to watch the movie.

Yoon Sera. 

Kwon Ryu noticed in the distance of the hallway. She had been putting letters in his locker this whole time. 

“What are you doing here?” Kwon Ryu asks, pulling Yoon Sera’s wrists away from his locker door.

“Have you found out yet?” Yoon Sera questions even though she isn’t surprised that she was caught red-handed. The colours behind her are specifically toned down red. She must be frustrated, angry that Kwon Ryu could not find anything.

“Lee Mia?” 

“Do you really not remember what happened?” 

“What do you mean…do I not remember?” Kwon Ryu is confused, he’s frustrated at the accusations. Not only is Yoon Sera questioning him, but almost the entire school is putting him as a suspect.

“The both of you were in a relationship.” Yoon Sera reveals, but instead of the red aura he sees. He slowly watches the turn change into a hue of purple. Fear. 

“What?”

-

“What an amazing movie!” The director comes up to the both of them after the credits roll. Both Y/N and Soobin bow to him as he pats them both on the back. “The both of you did a fantastic job, I knew I could trust the both of you.” 

Y/N turns to Soobin with a smile and he does the same, bowing once again once he sees the director leave.

“It’s quite a sad story isn’t it?” Soobin questions, assuming he’s talking about the movie.

“Yes…” Y/N agrees, “Though, doesn’t Kwon Ryu kind of resemble you? Emotion…powers and all that?” 

Soobin laughs at Y/N’s description, dismissing it as soon as the rest of his team and Y/N’s run up to them.

“Are you coming to the after party?” Soobin questions.

“Yeah! Let’s go together.” 

-

The after party was at a nightclub nearby the theatre. Loud music blasting against the speakers, as crew and cast members group left and right. 

Y/N was never a fan of such an atmosphere, the music growing too loud and the air a little too stuffy. Y/N decides to get some fresh air at the outdoor balcony area upstairs of the nightclub.

Closing the door behind her, she did not expect to see Soobin standing right next to her.

“Woah! You scared me!” Y/N jumps back as Soobin laughs at her antics. 

“Too much?” He tilts his head.

“Yeah, a bit loud.” 

It was a lot quieter now, though Y/N could still feel the beat of the music pumping against the doors behind her. The cold air allows her to breathe and the wind calms her nerves. 

“How’s your family by the way?” Soobin questions. 

“Better. They contact me less but sometimes they still worry…sometimes I think it’s not about my choice of job…” Y/N goes off.

“What do you mean?” 

“...I’m not sure, I still feel like everything they said is an excuse…” Y/N rambles, “...I’ve said too much, I'm sorry.” 

“No- It’s alright.” Soobin smiles as he moves a little closer to her. Lifting his red plastic cup towards her, “Drink?”

Y/N nods and takes a sip out of his cup, though Y/N did drink a little bit it wasn’t enough to get her tipsy. Though, today was meant to be a celebratory day— she should learn to let loose at times like this. 

Soobin continues to look at her, somehow the same sense of familiarity washes over him. As if he wasn’t curious enough, he grows even more interested in what she’s feeling. 

Y/N could tell Soobin was looking at her, and she felt her heartbeat race and her cheeks heat up. But what was this feeling? 

Soobin leans in a little closer and now their faces only centimetres apart, Soobin takes a deep breath before asking. 

Though before the question leaves his lips he suddenly feels a strong pound against his head. His ears ringing and his entire auditory senses tuned out— his vision is blurry, his head feels heavy and it’s just then his mind turns pitch black.

The sound of rain. Two highschool students.

“Soobin, wake up please!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry— this is all my fault!” 

“…Y-Y/N…don’t be scared…don’t be sad…don’t be angry…I’ll-”

And with that, just like a snap of a finger— Soobin returns back to reality.

What was that?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry II

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find a place to hide for the time being.

Note: Got this done quickly and was surprised with myself. Gearing up to go back to work tomorrow. I’ll try to catch up on responses after work and check in with y’all.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You didn’t stop running until the dawn. You didn’t head for the village as you knew that would be the first place the lord and his party would look. You kept to the forest despite the howls and the hoots of unseen creatures. You stopped to bury your cap and apron under an overturned trunk. If it was known that Barnes was searching out a servant, it would be better to be less obvious.

As the horizon turned to a soft amber, you found an overhang and nestled into the small nook. You turned your back to the bitter morning air and tried to sleep. If you kept going, you would only pass out in the open. Your slumber was shallow and fitful. You were stiff as you woke up just after noon and climbed out of the cranny.

You feasted on nuts and berries gathered along your clueless path, eating as the twigs and branches pulled at your skirts. You weren’t sure where you were or where you were going. You could be out of the county or you could be five minutes from the castle. For your luck, you could have just gone in circles.

The second night you found a cave and slept there instead of pressing on through the dark. You were itchy from a brush with poison ivy and your feet throbbed from the endless trek. You got a few hours under your eyelids before you emerged and carried on.

What were you doing? Where were you going? If you did manage to evade the wrathful lord, what then? Knock on the doors of another castle and barter an apron with your fingernails dirty and your face wind burned?

The third night saw your stomach squeezing painfully as you failed to catch a rabbit and drank from a river eagerly. You slept between two broken logs and woke to the sound of hooves. You didn’t move as you listened to the voices. None were familiar and the only prey they spoke of was some doe they sighted moments ago.

“Nolan spooked the creature just behind the hill, my lord, if we hook around the lea, we might catch it by the stream,” a man said.

“I’d rather the stag. He must be close,” a deeper timbre replied, “you and Nolan take your course and I’ll search these grounds for the mate. Whistle if you sight our game.”

“Yes, my lord,” the other responded and the horses cantered away.

You stayed as you were as you heard the remaining man dismount and tramp over the carpet of leaves. You rolled onto your stomach and wriggled away from the noise and kicked yourself out from between the logs. You kept on your knees as you crawled around the other side and headed for the nearest tree.

His footsteps softened and you kept on, hoping your dirty dress helped you blend into the wild. You pushed yourself behind a trunk and pressed your back to the bark. If you sprinted out, he might just think you another frightened creature. If he sought a stag, he would be uninterested.

You nodded and readied for your flight. You took a breath and yelped as suddenly a figure appeared before you.

“I thought I heard a rustle,” the man said as he looked down at you. He was a lord, you could tell by the pin at the nape of his cape, “you look to be lost, my lady.”

“My lord,” you stood and bowed your head, “I only wandered too far. I can find my way back.”

“Way back where?” his hands went to his hips, “you look as if you have been wandering for a time.”

“I only tumbled and mussed myself,” you lied, “my lord, my apologies, I did not realise this forest was noble land.”

“It is easy to break the threshold of the common lands and the noble sprawl. It would be quicker on horseback to reunite you with your home, would it not?”

“I am grateful for such generosity but I would be remiss to accept, I might go on my way and--”

“Where do you hail from, lady?” he squinted.

“The village over yonder,” you pointed away from him, “it was a game and I did go too far.”

“And the village you speak of? What is it’s name?” he asked.

“Ildersin,” you uttered, one of the three nearest villages to the castle you knew.

“Ildersin? That is far and beyond my holdings,” he tilted your head, “one cannot wander there in less than a day so I warn you now to be honest or I would have your tongue out with hot pincers.”

You gulped and looked away from him. He stepped closer and caught your wrist.

“I could chase you down easy on my horse’s back, trample you into the mud, so answer me now or I will take you to the stocks,” he snarled.

“My father,” you said, “my father, he does beat me and I waited until he was abed to leave but I lost the bundle I did prepare for the escape. You see, my spare clothing and my food… I only did want to be upon my own and toil for one who does not lash me.”

He breathed through his nostrils as his thumb brushed the stitching along your cuff. He dropped your arm and his jaw ticked. His blond lashes flicked and he considered you and the dirt as one.

“You seek work?” he asked, “and asylum from your violent father?”

“Yes, my lord, er,” you blinked innocently, “I know not where I’ve found myself but I would serve you loyal if you would keep me from the stocks.”

“You can hold a broom? Empty a pot?” he asked.

“I can,” you assured, “my lord.”

“You have good manners for a farm maid,” he mused, “I might find a place for you in my kitchens.”

“My lord? You might direct me to the nearest village so I might find labour there, instead, I would not presume to further tax--”

“My castle is big enough, another hand would be more help than a burden,” he stepped back and waved you around the tree, “I will accompany you back to my keep and return to fetch my men… you look to have been out here long enough.”

“Truly, my lord, I--” you saw his impatience in the vein along his forehead and bowed your head, “I am most grateful.”

“Let us be off or my men might be lost without me,” he said.

He lifted you onto his horse and climbed up behind you. You’d never been astride with a man against you, it was awkward and crowded. He snapped the reins and the horse fell into step. He steered it away from your hiding place.

“Might I ask where I am, my lord?” you ventured.

“This is Astrens,” his voice rumbled through you, “And I am its lord, Duke Steven Rogers.”

Your heart sank as you recognised his name and your mistake. He wasn’t easily known with his beard, newly grown since his last visit to the Lord Barnes’ hold. He was of the few who were granted company with the miserly lord of the castle but there was a chance yet he did not know you. You were after all, only a servant.

🏰

Lord Rogers handed you over to his steward. You were reassured as you were given a cap, apron, and a new dress. You washed out of a basin and reported for your new duties.

It might just be far enough away that you wouldn’t have to worry about Barnes. He never went far from his estate and Astrens was out of the way of the capital. Even if it didn’t work, it gave you time to plot a real departure.

You were sent to the laundries to sweat over boiling cauldrons as you stirred the linens with a large stick. The steams seeped through your clothing and left you out of breath as you wrung out the sheets. You hung them outside along the line and helped beat out the old woven rugs.

After nights in the forest, your first day felt far from a return to normalcy. You were in a new place, you had new duties, and you didn’t know anyone in the castle. You’d worked in Lord Barnes’ manor since his father was still alive and you were only a kid. It was only a few years before Barnes took over but you remember it being much easy to ingratiate yourself to the staff.

You were shuffled onto a feather mattress in the servants’ quarters with three others. The snoring, snorting, and coughing kept you awake and you missed the chirp of crickets and scratching of critters. You woke more tired than any night spent among the trees and went back to the laundries.

Your days took on this pattern, sleep, eat, work, and do it all over again. You were forgotten among the other servants and it really seemed like you might just be able to hide among them forever. 

Nearly a week into your time as Astrens and the castle blustered to a storm. All the drapes were to be taken down, beat, and washed, and all beds were to be stripped and redressed. Servants littered the corridors scrubbing, sweeping, and running from chamber to chamber. When you asked what the occasion was, the response was vague. Lord Rogers is hosting a guest.

You weren’t used to the rush. Visitors were rare at the other castle and rarely were they accommodated so wholly. If they had a place to rest their head and fill their stomach, Barnes felt they could not gripe. Even his greetings were not required on such an occasion.

You helped with the scourging and scouring of the linens and the drapes. You worked so hard you didn’t even have the energy to gulp down the lumpy stew allotted to the servants. You fell into the heap of your bedmates into dreams laced with your own snores. You dreamt of the forest and the sound of hooves.

Another early morning and the gears began to grind once more. Darcy sent you away from the laundries to help refresh the rushes in the entrance hall with several others. You scattered herbs over the grand carpet that displayed scenes of hunting through the seasons. 

You wondered if perhaps Rogers was to be betrothed at last, the news of his first wife’s passing had sent many into gossip even before she was buried. Or maybe the king would make progress to the ancient grounds of the historic castle. You let your mind wander as your body was led by habit.

You heard the rolling of the carriage and the clip clop of horses. You followed several other servants as the tall doors were opened and you peered out into the yard at the party. You backed away as Lord Rogers emerged from the archway that led to the spiraling stairs and crossed the carpet. You could hardly hide your curiosity as you reluctantly followed the other servants. It would be unseemly to remain as Rogers welcomed his guests.

“James!” Rogers’ voice boomed and you stopped just outside the chamber as you looked down the stairs that led to the servants quarters, “it has been too long.”

“It has,” Lord Barnes’ responded and your eyes went wide as Deandra hissed for you to go. You couldn’t move as you listened and she abandoned you with a flutter of her fingers, “you know my father only ever called me James.”

“Ah, Buck, I’m kidding,” Rogers chuckled, “it is a pleasure to have you drag yourself from your hermitage.”

“You would make me regret it already,” the other lord chirped, “but the king did request my presence at the tournament and he did not allow for refusal. I’d prefer to travel with a friend, my only friend.”

“Oh, the sentiment, Lord Barnes,” Rogers preened dryly.

“I don’t know if I should be able to wait to tussle until the tourney,” Barnes jibed, “oh, this old place, has it been so long?”

You shoved yourself away from the door and clamoured down the stairs. You nearly tumbled down the last few and caught yourself on the wall. You sidled past Agnes and towards the laundries. Harriet called after you as you passed and rushed out the doors past the muddy puddles of dirty water and hanging sheets.

The grass was slick beneath your shoes as you raced for the stables. You only needed to hide there for a time and sneak out before they closed the gates. You didn’t make it past the first stall before you heard the steel whine. You turned as Lester greeted you with the tip of his sword.

“The master has been searching for you,” the toothy guard smirked, “oh and what a reward I shall have for bringing him a prize of his own.”

[bbangsoonie]

good for nothing

member: juyeon genre: angst (royal au) word count: 4,635 synopsis: despite being the first born and the kingdom’s princess, you lived your whole life in the shadow of the crown prince born to a concubine. in your plot for revenge, a fool in love comes along your path. warning(s): violence

kingdom masterlist

Princess Y/n. You were the first born of the king and queen, educated beyond societal standards for girls, and incredibly beautiful. Yet, you were disregarded and looked down on since the moment you were born. Your brother, who was born to a concubine, was the crown prince and received much greater respect. The reason? You were a girl. A good-for-nothing girl as your father called you on multiple occasions.

The king was ashamed to have his first born be a daughter. He also felt threatened by your rejection of the status quo. Because of this, he grabbed every opportunity to make you submit to him.

You were exceptionally smart but no one cared to notice. Your desire to learn was ignored and you were forced to embroider butterfly patterns instead. At a young age, you realized your place. You knew your designated fate was to be a political pawn meant to be married off at a beautiful age. To protect the royal family that never considered you as one of their own, you were to marry a complete stranger one day.

However, just because you realized your place didn’t mean you accepted it. You defied the rules at every chance you saw. You remained a headache for the king, but a small enough headache to avoid his wrath.

Unbeknownst to him, you were well versed with the dirty politics of the country. Ever since you were a little girl, you would eavesdrop into the ministers’ conversations and manipulate the eunuchs to take a peak at written grievances sent to the king. You knew about the starving peasants he ignored and the bribes he received. As you grew older, you became hungry for power. When it became apparent that the king was blocking any hope for you, you were determined to take as many people down with you. You refused to suffer alone.

The king always berated you for being greedy. Greedy for education. Greedy for acknowledgement. Greedy for a life that was more than just being a good wife. He reminded you again and again that you would never have a voice in official affairs.

Every time you left his chamber after another lecture, you made sure to humiliate the embarrassment the kingdom called the crown prince. You would outshine him one way or another. Whether it be pointing out his grammar mistakes in front of the scholars or exposing his secret palace escapes to the queen, you would dampen his mood for the day. It was the only thing that gave you a speck of joy.

There was also only one thing that gave you something to look forward to. For years, you had been conspiring against the royal family. You despised the royal family and its classist, sexist, and pretentious values. You planned on getting rid of it once and for all. The kingdom deserved a leader that would rule benevolently. Slowly but surely, you gained the loyalty of several ministers. Soon enough, you would be able to execute the meticulous coup d'état.

But until then, you had to continue to be nothing but the king’s puppet. Which included meeting your fiancé. You were introduced a week ago and wedding preparations were already in full swing.

The man you would be forced to wed, Lee Juyeon, was the first son of the Chief State Councillor. You didn’t like him the moment you saw him. He was a pretty face that grew up with his father’s full love and support. He was both elegant and masculine; he was the definition of perfect and you hated it. A person had to have flaws to be likeable.

For some crazy reason you couldn’t wrap your mind around, Juyeon was infatuated with you. He visited the palace every day just to have you decline his request for a meeting. He was persistent.

Unfortunately for you, he was also crafty. He figured out that announcing his arrival to the king was an effective way to see your face. The king was delighted to see the Chief State Councillor’s son head over heels for his daughter and thus, to your annoyance, daily meetings were arranged for you two.

“Tell me, Lord Lee, what about me is worthy of your obsession?” you asked.

You were sitting at one of the gardens within the palace walls. He had insisted on the location because of its romantic beauty.

“Then tell me, Your Highness, what about me is not to your liking?” he grinned.

“Do you wish to hear the answer of the princess or the answer of Y/n?” you raised a brow, making him laugh.

“You amuse me, Princess Y/n,” he turned his head to look at the pond.

You sighed, wondering how long you had until you could return to your residence. The man next to you was oblivious to your feelings as he rambled on about the dates he wanted to take you on. He caught your attention when he mentioned sneaking you out of the palace for half a day.

“You would really risk taking me outside of the palace?” you perked up.

He was excited to see you finally engaged in the conversation and nodded profusely. He promised to set up an elaborate plan for a smooth date. Grudgingly, you accepted his offer. Your wish to see the village overwhelmed your wish to avoid your soon-to-be consort.

The next day, a court lady secretly found you to notify you of his plans. To evade the eyes of palace maids, you were to escape through a path not commonly used. She helped you scale the wall and you froze when you saw Juyeon on the other side. You sat on top of the wall and he extended his hand for support. With a tight smile, you held his hand and jumped down.

He pulled the veil over your face to keep your identity hidden, blushing when his hand slightly brushed your cheek. He hopped onto the horse and gestured for you to do the same. Hesitantly, you held his hand again to climb on.

Using the excuse of maintaining balance, he urged you to hold on tightly. You weren’t left with an option when he sped up, prompting you to instinctively hug his waist. You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling like a fool.

At last, you finally arrived at the village. Fascinated at the change in environment, you looked like a child surrounded by toys. Chuckling, Juyeon admired the view in front of him. In his eyes, you were prettier than any flower and sweeter than any candy. Feeling his gaze on you, you cleared your throat and began walking.

There was so much to look at. He caught you staring at the rows of yeot and purchased the confectionery without you asking. You immediately popped one into your mouth and he laughed when your cheeks expanded to resemble a squirrel.

“Are you teasing me?” you frowned.

“No, I am appreciating your adorable and lovely appearance,” he answered as he handed you the bag holding the rest of the yeot. His words didn’t fluster you. You simply rolled your eyes and resumed walking.

His long legs were quick to catch up with you. Enjoying your presence, he watched as you fawned over little trinkets. It was a new side of you that he had never seen.

Stopping at an accessory shop, you scanned the norigaes displayed on the table. One of them caught your eye and you held it up for a closer look. It was a beautiful pale pink color that perfectly matched your current hanbok.

“It seems a norigae is better at capturing your heart than I am,” Juyeon pouted.

“Perhaps it is prettier than you,” you shrugged.

“Is this an implication that I am pretty? To a certain extent?” he beamed.

“How do my words become that?” you exclaimed.

With another laugh, he took the accessory from your grasp and went to pay for it. You blinked at the sudden sight of his back, noticing for the first time how broad his shoulders were. When he came back to your side, he held the norigae in front of you but pulled it back when you reached out for it. He pointed at the bag of yeot and opened his mouth. Baffled, you turned around to walk away.

He caught your wrist and spun you back around. He bent down and your face stopped an inch away from his. His usual shy self was gone and he had a confident smirk on his lips.

“Does your heart not sway even at a close distance like this?” he asked. This time, he caught you off guard. When you finally came back to your senses, you hurriedly shoved a piece of yeot into his mouth and stormed off.

“Y/n, you make me laugh too hard and too much!” you heard his voice call out, making you blush crimson with embarrassment.

With your upcoming wedding looming over your head, it became increasingly difficult to communicate with the ministers. There were too many eyes to be wary of. Juyeon, of course, was one of them.

As you spent more time with him, you realized how sentimental he was. He brought you small, meaningful gifts and loved to tell you about the meanings behind each flower.

“Did you know that the plum blossom is one of the indications of spring's arrival?” he asked one day. “They can bloom as early as late March.”

“I think it is quite obvious that it is spring,” you commented, pointing at the variety of flowers surrounding you.

“My personal favorite flower is the rose of sharon,” he continued. “It is nicknamed the “immortal flower” and means “eternal blossom that never fades” because of its resilience. It regrows despite harsh conditions and even after it is damaged. Amazing, isn’t it?”

You hummed, looking for the flower he was talking about.

“I used to hope that our kingdom would take after the flower. We have survived through many tragedies and I hope that we will survive through anything else that tries to beat us down,” his words pricked you for some reason. Would your rebellion be seen as a tragedy or as a heroic deed?

“Now, I like to think that our love will be like the rose of sharon. My love for you will never fade and I will continue to pine after you despite your harsh words. Even if you hurt me, my feelings will transcend time,” he smiled. “The flower does not bloom until July. My wish is to go see them with you. Would you bless me with your presence when the time comes?”

You observed his lovestruck expression and couldn’t bring yourself to say no. Again, you were at a loss trying to understand why he was so besotted with you. His childlike innocence was almost pure to a fault in a place like the palace.

“I shall consider it if you teach me how to swing a sword,” you proposed.

He couldn’t hide both his shock and happiness. He was confused as to why you wanted to ever hold a weapon but glad that you were slowly opening up to him. Without a second thought, he agreed to your proposition.

Juyeon was full of bliss at the thought of spending more time with you. Teaching you swordsmanship would allow him to be intimate with you and he was thrilled. At your first secret lesson, his heart raced at your proximity as he guided your hands on how to properly wield the blade.

A week passed by and you quickly improved each day. Eventually, you became skilled enough to land a fake jab. Seeing your proud smile, he grinned as well.

“I guess I should be on edge now. If I annoy my princess one too many times, my life will literally be at your hands,” he joked.

“Do you regret training me?” you smirked.

“Ah, was this all a part of your plan?” he pretended to gasp. “Either to kill me off or to threaten me to obedience?”

Not finding his joke funny, you blankly stared at him. Noticing the sudden chill in the atmosphere, he awkwardly laughed.

“Do not worry, Your Highness. I will always do as you say. You do not need a sword to make me behave.” he smiled.

You hated to admit it but he had grown on you. His constant attempts to tear down your wall had finally made a crack. You had to stop before he became your weakness.

For the first time in a while, you were summoned to the king’s chamber. Expecting another reprimand, you dreaded the walk there. To your surprise, however, you were greeted with a smile he hadn’t given you in years. It kind of freaked you out.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?” you bowed.

“I hear you have been getting along wonderfully with the Chief State Councillor’s son. Finally, you are fulfilling your duty as this kingdom’s princess,” he commended.

What a back-handed compliment. You wanted to roll your eyes at his passive aggressiveness. Holding back your urges, you politely smiled instead.

“I just wanted to let you know that I will be in a hurry to complete your wedding. I need the Chief State Councillor’s support to find a suitable wife for the crown prince,” he announced.

“Is my marriage merely a way for the crown prince to find a wife with a powerful family?” you shot back.

Your question turned the mood scarily sour. You felt his anger rise as he chastised you for your impudence and disrespect.

“The crown prince is the future leader of our kingdom. He is more than deserving of the immense care, thought, and effort that goes into picking his consort. His consort will be this kingdom’s queen and will be the one to bear the next king. You are nothing but a useless girl who will belong to a different family.”

“I am still a member of the royal family, am I not?”

“You are just a good-for-nothing girl that will leave this palace soon,” he spat. “Now leave. You are dismissed.”

On your way out, you ran into the crown prince who looked at you in a way you found to be offensive. You paused your steps and turned around.

“I wish you fertility, Crown Prince. After all, the kingdom relies on your performance to produce an heir to the throne,” you said, lacing your words with venom. “I would imagine you would hate having to adopt a nephew.”

You could tell you had gotten under his skin yet again and left satisfied. You loathed and condemned your family with a burning passion. You couldn’t wait for the day it would all come to a bitter end.

While you were brooding, you didn’t notice Juyeon sneaking up on you. When you finally saw him, you nearly jumped. Your hand reached out to cover your heart, trying to calm it down. Sheepishly, he apologized for startling you.

Trying to keep you from walking away from him, he held onto the hem of your sleeve. Your heart softened at the gentle manner he treated you with. Ignoring your instincts, you let him cling onto you. Instead of making you turn around to face him, he walked in front of you.

“Will you accompany me to the garden today as well?” he asked earnestly.

Knowing that the court ladies were watching, you reluctantly accepted his invitation once again. This time, he surprised you with a bag filled with yeot. He looked so proud of himself for remembering your love for the sweet treat that it made you laugh. As a reward, he grabbed a piece for himself. Unaware of the smudge it left on the corner of his lips, he was conscious of your gaze and tried to look attractive.

“Worry not, Your Highness. You will get to look at this face every day and every night once we marry,” he assured.

Despite his wise exterior, he had a goofy side to him. He was pure and innocent—everything you weren’t. You could see why the king favored him so much.

“I do not understand why you are so eager to become my consort,” you suddenly blurted. “You know that it is just a flashy title that does not award you with much privileges. It is an empty position; you cannot hold office without a special order from the king. Do you simply see yourself as a stepping stone for your father to bring honor to your family?”

“Is my love for you an acceptable response?” he asked after some thought.

“Is it truly worth your dangerous status as the princess’s husband and king’s son-in-law? The royal family has many enemies,” you warned.

“I will be the one to protect you from such enemies,” he declared.

Was he naive or has his affection for you blinded him?

“Princess Y/n,” he said solemnly as he held your hand. “I promise to love and protect you for as long as my heart beats. No, even after it ceases to beat, I will still yearn for you. I will not demand or expect you to do the same. Even if your feelings for me are not as strong as my feelings for you, I will not blame you. But will you please give me the chance to try to win you over?”

His confession triggered an alarm in your head. He was never supposed to fall for you this hard and you were never supposed to allow him to. He had no idea how cunning and conniving you really were. Only the people in the palace knew how cold-hearted you could be. You had to be in order to survive.

You refused to give him a reply and pulled your hand away. His face fell but he forced himself to smile again. In an attempt to break the tension, he made a random comment on the weather.

After you two parted, you decided to speed things up to initiate the revolt. Once you joined hands in marriage, Juyeon would inevitably end up a target as well. If you wanted to spare him, you needed to overthrow the corrupted royal family before he became a part of it.

It was officially the day before the insurrection. To be honest, you weren’t really nervous. This was what you had been anticipating your entire life.

Yet why did you have a moment of weakness when you saw Juyeon that afternoon? He approached you with that boyish smile that did wonders to your normally rational mind. Feeling what you believed was pity, you wanted to leave him with a pleasant memory.

So you ended up convincing him to sneak you out of the palace again. This time, you were a lot more enthusiastic. You wanted to try all the pastries and insisted that he taste them too.

“You seemed to have a lot on your mind these days,” he carefully pointed out. “Has the problem that has been bothering you been resolved now?”

“It will soon,” you eluded.

You stared at the man in front of you, observing his features. He was, without a doubt, good looking. You could see why all the court ladies, palace maids, and girls of the village were so smitten with him. But you still didn’t get why he chose you to fawn over. Maybe it was because of the lack of affection you grew up with but something about having someone care for you was unsettling.

You had suitors court you before but none of them were as devoted as Juyeon. He always came off as genuine. Perhaps his sincerity was what made you lower your guard.

“I promise to lavish you with such outings if that is what makes you happy,” he proclaimed, almost making you laugh.

“Why do you make so many vows?” you inquired.

“I am a man who keeps his word and you are the only one I give it to,” he grinned. You wondered how happy he had to be to smile so often. You rarely had reasons to be smiling.

He glanced down at the table and examined the rows of binyeos. Holding one up, he held the hair pin against your hair.

“May I gift you this binyeo?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, feeling just a tad bit of guilt. You were used to being showered with extravagance but with Juyeon, it was different. There was an emotional value attached to each present.

“Only if you promise me one other thing,” you negotiated.

“Of course. I will do anything you ask of me,” he responded.

“Promise me that you will not visit the palace tomorrow,” you said sternly. He looked at you with curiosity.

“Tomorrow is… a day of mourning for me. I do not wish to see you until the day after,” you lied.

“This is the first time you have expressed your desire to see me,” he lit up at your last sentence. “I will prepare a magnificent date for when I see you over-morrow.”

You almost felt sorry for his naiveté. And you almost—just almost—felt sorry for deceiving him.

The fateful day arrived at last. You stood, taking one last glimpse at your reflection. Subconsciously, your hand reached out to touch the binyeo in your hair.

The roars of the royal guards and the clanks of combat rumbled throughout the palace. With a determined look, you left your chamber. The sword in your clenched fist dragged across the ground as you made your way to the throne hall.

When you finally busted through the door, the king sat as if he had been waiting for you.

“I should have known that this was your doing,” he scowled. “Was your luxurious life as a princess not enough for you? Could you not fight the temptation of avarice?”

“Nothing about my life was ever comfortable,” you corrected. “I always had to play along to match your mood in order to avoid being married off to an old man just out of your spite. You tried to drill your toxic mentality in me because my individuality terrified you. You made it a point to constantly tear me down. So I made it a point to see your demise.”

“You have always been this sly ever since you were a little girl. I knew I would regret your birth the moment I saw your eyes. And I was right. You are nothing but a vile bitch.”

“For the longest time, I thought I was deserving of your hatred. But I came to the realization that you simply belittled me just for being a girl. Do not forget, Your Majesty, that the womb inside me is the same as the one that bore you the crown prince.”

Mockingly, you approached the throne. It was incredible how that one seat gave its owner immense power.

“Speaking of which, why is it that only men carry on the family name?” you questioned. “Do you not realize that women are the ones who carry on the precious bloodline you always speak of? It is the body of women that conceive and grow another human inside them. It is the body of women that suffer through labor to deliver you children and nurture them to good health. The only thing you do is spread your seeds like a fruit. And then blame women for your own infertility.”

“All throughout history, it has been men who carried on the royal bloodline. What makes you think that you are worthy of special treatment?”

“Bloodline, bloodline, bloodline,” you rolled your eyes in irritation. “Do not fool yourself. It is not blood you care about but name. Men may carry on the nameline but we are the ones who give you the royal blood pumping in your veins.”

You sloppily lifted the sword to the king’s neck, smirking.

“I knew you would be the one to bring my downfall,” he glared.

“Well, how does it feel to have all your fears come true, my king?” you taunted. “You were always afraid that I would either surpass you or ruin you. Now, I will be the one to end this damned bloodline. This good-for-nothing girl will take back the royal blood that was given to you by a woman.”

With that, you slashed his neck. Blood splattered across the wall and on your face. You grimaced, wiping away the warm liquid. You were surprisingly calm in front of such a gruesome sight. That was, until Juyeon came bursting through the door.

After he had parted from you the day before, he could not get you out of his mind. Something about your eyes had been melancholic. Your words sounded like a foreshadow and it left him feeling disturbed. So he broke his promise and went to the palace to see you again. He was alarmed to see the chaos ensuing and immediately searched for you. However, he never expected the situation he stumbled into.

“P-Princess Y/n,” he stuttered, making you aim the weapon at yourself. You never intended or wanted him to witness this.

“Do not come any closer,” you warned.

“Your Highness, please. Put the sword down,” he begged.

“I cannot,” you gulped. “This is how it must end.”

“We-we can run away. Together. We can leave everything behind and I will keep you safe,” he said as he tried his best to stay calm.

You wanted to both laugh and cry. Your life was a suicidal mission. You knew from the beginning that you would not be able to survive. If you failed, you would be executed for treason. If you succeeded, you would be executed to officially end the royal bloodline.

You had to admit, you slightly wavered at one point. Juyeon’s promise to make you happy was enticing. To someone who never strayed close to emotions before, he was like a miracle. He made you feel all sorts of things that you were glad to have experienced.

“I apologize, Lord Lee,” you sadly smiled before you stabbed the blade into your stomach.

“No!” he screamed as he ran to your side.

You slowly fell to the ground with Juyeon’s arms wrapped around your body. His hands shook above the wound as he cried, knowing that he couldn’t take it out without ensuring your death. He never thought that what he taught you would be used against yourself. If he had known that this was what you planned on using your skills for, he never would have taken your offer.

“I am afraid I will not be able to go see the rose of sharons with you,” you said as a tear escaped your eyes.

Your vision began to cloud and you felt the life in you leave with every breath you took. You didn’t even realize that your hand was gripping his clothes, crinkling it. Another tear rolled down your cheek as your head fell back, your neck unable to support it any longer.

He desperately clung onto you, holding your head in his bloodied hands.

“I will bring the flowers to you,” he affirmed.

“Another promise,” you chuckled.

“This one I will be sure to keep,” he stated as his own tears fell to your face.

Next to the weapon embedded in you was the norigae he bought you the first time you escaped the palace together. He looked up to see that you were wearing the binyeo he bought you as well. He sobbed, holding onto you tighter.

“I hope to be reborn as a rose of sharon. That way, I can come see you every spring,” you whispered before you closed your eyes for the last time.

tag list: @dearseungie​ @cuppasunu​ @reverienostalgia​ @elcie-chxn​ @parfaitz​​ @lovelyutas​ @mochinyu​ @leejaeyeons​

[accioxreparo]

surprises | f.w.

synopsis: After being gone for a few years you and Fred show up at the Burrow for Halloween with a surprise no one expected.

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

warnings: none except its unedited

a/n: hi I’m in love with dad!Fred and I thought this would be cute. And yes, their costumes are all inspired by The Greatest Showman cause I rewatched it the other day. Also it’s not my best writing and its a little rushed but I hope you guys still like it. One more fall prompt coming tomorrow for my dia de muertos inspired fic before we move on to winter! 

“This is all your fault.”

“Is not.”

“Is too,” You set down the change of clothes you were in the process of transfiguring and turned to glare at Fred who looked much more at ease than you were. “If you hadn’t insisted on showing her that movie the day would have passed by like nothing.”

“How’d you expect me to say no when she was looking at me with those big eyes of hers?” Fred moved to stand behind the place where you were sitting. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

An amused smile cracked through your otherwise stern expression and immediately Fred knew he had you. But you still shook your head as he jumped over the couch, landing beside you with a soft thud. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

He hummed, not bothering to argue at all because he knew you were right. “You both do.”

“Good answer,” You nodded as you put down your wand and the now shiny red coat. “Where do you plan on taking Evie trick or treating exactly? You’ve never been and we’ve only just moved back.”

“Don’t you worry, my darling,” The smile on Fred’s face, the same plotting, mischievous one you’d fallen in love with long ago, did little to reassure you now. “I’ve got just the thing.”

*

You weren’t too sure what you’d been expecting but finding the photos removed from all your albums laying out all over the counters of your kitchen the next morning was not it at all.

“Alright sweetheart,” Fred laughed a bit at the look on your face before showing Evie another picture. “What about your Uncle Georgie, what do we think he should be?”

Your eyes trained on your daughter as she stood on her chair and searched a different set of pictures. Her face was scrunched up in concentration and you couldn’t help but notice how strikingly similar she looked to Fred, who was wearing the exact same expression.

A warmth filled your whole being as you watched the two of them looking at the photos. Photos of your family that Evie had yet to meet. Time had simply gotten away from you during the last few years. Now that Fred had taken the liberty of hiring a manager for the New York location of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes you were back home.

“This one!” The sudden exclamation caught your attention and as she pointed towards a picture in one of her books.

“A monkey!” Fred laughed and picked her up from her seat making her giggle. “You are just brilliant, princess. Why don’t you go tell your mum what you picked out for her?”

You caught Evie as she ran for you, lifting her up with ease and setting her on your hip. “Mummy you have to wear the purple dress daddy got you. He says it’s the only one.”

Almost immediately you knew exactly which one she was talking about. One made of silk that was much too short to wear out on any other occasion. When you turned to look at Fred he’d placed a hand over his mouth in a weak attempt to keep from laughing.

“Did he now?”

“He did,” Evie nodded rapidly and you laughed as her hair shook all around her. “There’s a surprise too but we have to put on our costumes first.”

“Well why don’t you go start and I’ll help you in a minute, okay sweetheart?” The moment you put her down she ran for her room and you made your way to Fred and all the pictures he’d stacked on top of each other once more. “And just what is your surprise?”

He only beamed at you, tapping the edge of the pictures once on the counter before pocketing them. “We, my darling, are taking her to the Burrow.”

You stared at him for a moment before realizing that he was completely serious and crossing your arms in front of you. “Fred Weasley you cannot show up unannounced to your mothers with a little girl she has yet to know about, are you trying to give her a heart attack?”

“Technically I have been announced,” Fred stood and pulled you into him, hands resting on your waist. “I owled everybody last night and told them to be there by one to help me get everything ready.”

“Did you tell them why?”

“Of course not, it’s called a surprise for a reason, love.” Fred only chuckled and kissed you once. The action was quickly cut off by Evie shouting for you from her room. You sighed a bit before stepping out of his hold. “Stay here until I come get you two okay? And don’t forget that dress of yours.”

“The only reason I’m putting it on is for Evie.” You smirked a bit, already starting to move backwards.

“Oh of course, love,” Fred nodded before matching your smirk. “And if she just so happens to want to sleepover at her grandma’s tonight then that is completely a coincidence and we might as well take advantage of that outfit of yours.”

You laughed then turning around before he could say anything else. “Just go.”

*

“Hey mum,” Fred was beaming the moment he stepped into the Burrow once again. Almost instantly Molly wrapped him into a tight hug. She quickly went on a slight tangent about how long it’d been she’d seen him as he greeted Arthur.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked as she finally moved to glance behind him to see if she could spot you.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Fred didn’t miss the way his mum’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Fred chuckled before reaching for the last of the photos he’d brought along with him. Molly only watched as he smiled at it before handing it over to her. “Nothing bad anyway. Something really good actually, look.”

Molly stared at him for a moment more before looking down at the picture in her hands. A gasp escaped her when she saw three people smiling up at her in the moving photograph. There was Fred who was pulling you into his side, you in the middle of laughing at something, and a little girl waving at the camera.

A little girl who was practically a carbon copy of you but with Fred’s eyes and freckles. The picture couldn’t possibly have been that old considering the fact that he looked almost the same. Nonetheless, it was the absolute last thing Molly had been expecting when she heard the two of you had moved back.

“What is it?” Arthur’s attention was caught again as he moved to see what the commotion was about. When he saw the picture he only smiled, taking it to look at it a bit closer. “Is that -”

“Fred Weasley, are you really telling us we have a granddaughter you didn’t tell us about?” His mum had set one hand on the back of a chair with the other on her waist and suddenly he felt like he was a teenager getting scolded again. The action hadn’t stopped him from laughing then and it certainly didn’t stop him now. Not when he could see the excited look quickly breaking across her face.

“Surprise?” Before Fred knew it he was being pulled down into another embrace again. He supposed it was a good thing the three of them were the only ones in the kitchen given the flurry of questions his mum and dad alone asked him. “Evangeline Molly Weasley. Hope you don’t mind, mum.”

“Of course not,” Molly shook her head, reaching up to stop the happy tears from falling down her face.

“How old is she?” Arthur asked, looking at the picture once more with just as bright a grin.

“Three, almost four though. Her birthdays in two weeks so it’s perfect timing really,” Fred gave a shrug when they stared at him surprised. “Please don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t a secret on purpose, I promise.”

“You didn’t think to maybe mention the fact that you had a daughter in one of your letters?”

“I would’ve but I kept forgetting,” Fred quickly continued when the two of them started speaking over each other to scold him again. “We didn’t not tell anybody! George has come to see Evie loads of times now, I just assumed he’d tell you.”

“Don’t try to turn this on your brother,” Molly shook her head again and gave an almost exasperated sigh. “My first grandchild and you don’t even tell me. Didn’t even bring her over for a visit.”

“It’s great to see you too, mum,” He couldn’t help but instinctively duck out of the way and chuckle again when she swatted a dish towel at him. “That’s actually why I sent everyone else off to get the house ready. Evie wanted to go trick or treating and I figured what better place to bring her than here. She’s getting ready with Y/N now.”

Almost on cue there was a chorus of shouting as the door that led into the backyard opened. Fred flipped the picture of himself, you, and Evie upside down on the table, quietly muttering surprise when he saw the look his mum gave him again.

“Hang on, this list isn’t fair!” Ron shook his head as he took said list out of Harry’s hands. “Why do I have to be the elephant and he gets the lion?”

“Forget that,” Harry snatched the list back and pointed at a line scribbled near the bottom. “This says Charlie is supposed to be helping me hang up the decorations but he disappeared like twenty minutes ago. Do you know how long it’s going to take me to put up everything you brought with you?”

“Charlie had to go see a friend about creatures to borrow,” Fred answered easily before motioning towards Ron. “Tell him to help.”

“No! I’m supposed to be putting extension charms on the shed. Why don’t you make Ginny help all she’s doing is getting the bags of candy ready!”

“Excuse you,” Ginny popped her head through the window to glare at Ron. “Do you know how complicated he made this? It’s going to take me hours!”

“Hours won’t do,” Fred glanced at the clock on the wall, the one that actually told time, and frowned. He’d been gone for an hour now and he knew that Evie would start getting restless soon. “We have about two hours at most.”

“What!” Came shouted from all three of them at once before they started yelling over each other. To Fred’s delight though, Molly was the one who shushed them that time.

“That’s enough! Now all of you get to it.” Molly waited until the three of them had gone once more before taking the picture back and tucking it into her pocket. To Fred’s surprise she turned to smile at him, placing a hand on his cheek before moving to look at the list Ron and Harry had left behind. “Now let’s get this done. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can bring my granddaughter and Y/N over.”

There it was. Fred only laughed once more before agreeing and walking into the backyard beside the two of them.

*

Exactly two hours later Fred was walking up to the Burrow again. He spun around quickly to pick up Evie before she saw all the decorations that were now hung up all over the place. You understood the look he gave you right away and moved to block the rest of her line of sight.

Fred lifted her up with complete ease and smiled when he saw the pout on her face. “I need you to close your eyes for me until I say so alright, princess?”

“But -”

“No buts, sweetheart,” You interrupted when she tried turning her head. She gave you a heavy sigh before placing a hand over her eyes. “There you go. I promise you’re going to love your surprise.”

You could hear Ron and Harry before you saw them. Their voices rang across the front yard as they argued and it wasn’t until they noticed the three of you that they stopped. A laugh bubbled up from inside of you at the sight of their jaws dropping and eyes going wide.

To your amusement, they were too shocked to give anything away as Fred set Evie down and covered her ears, making sure her eyes were still closed. “Go get everyone else will you?”

“That’s a child.” Harry was the first one to break out of his trance, looking quickly between Evie, you, and Fred.

“Good eye.”

“Bloody hell, she is not yours.” Ron shook his head, a faint smile spreading across his face as he resisted the urge to walk towards the three of you.

Fred, meanwhile, grinned proudly and gave a firm nod. “She is indeed.”

“Mum! Dad!”

From inside the house you could hear Molly shouting at everyone to take their assigned places. Not thinking of anything else you gravitated towards the house that had become your own over the years with your excitement ready to spill over.

The moment Molly saw you she pulled you in for a tight hug, Arthur appearing in the doorway soon after and doing the same. They looked at you after briefly looking at Fred who’s now talking to Evie, still holding her so she couldn’t see the decorations yet. “We are so proud of the two of you.”

“Thank you,” You really couldn’t help the way your whole body relaxed along with the overwhelming feeling of finally being home again. Of course the last few years with Fred and Evie were amazing and you’d adored every moment. But being there at the Burrow again, with everybody else you held dear, was a feeling you always knew you missed. “Come and meet her.”

You pulled them along and Fred looked at the three of you, eyes sparkling with this look of pure happiness. He finally let go of Evie and she didn’t hesitate before shooting around to face you. Her head tipped to the side curiously before an excited smile broke across her face.

“I know them!” She shouted, looking up at Fred and then at you. Finally her eyes landed on Molly and Arthur and she jumped up and down a couple times. “That’s grandma and grandpa.”

“Sure is,” You smiled and held your hand out to her, one she took with ease. “Come say hi, sweetheart.”

Evie took to them immediately, happily answering every question they asked her and telling them everything she’d heard from you and Fred. She easily grabbed hold of both their hands as they led her towards the front door and pointing out all the decorations, ones Fred had made sure they knew she loved.

Bill was the one to answer the door when she finally knocked and he didn’t quite know what to say at first. He stuttered a bit as he glanced back at you and Fred before he shook his head and ducked down to Evie’s level with a surprised laugh.

“My costume sure makes a lot more sense now,” Bill looked down at the striped cut off shirt Fred had thrown at him earlier before smiling at the little girl he’d yet to meet. “And who might you be?”

“Evie.” She stood a little straighter, fixing her coat and the hat on top of her head, then smiled at him. “My daddy told me who you were already.”

“He did?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded eagerly, already having forgotten the bag in her hands. It’s wasn’t until Bill handed her a chocolate frog box that she even remembered she was there to trick or treat. He really couldn’t help but give in when she asked if he wanted to join them.

Evie, however, quickly left all of you behind when she saw little creatures she didn’t recognize flying over her head the moment she stepped into the backyard. Only moments later she caught sight of George and excitedly ran for him.

Charlie, who’d been standing beside him, stared for a moment as George picked her up so she could almost reach the little creatures. He was surprised when Evie then turned to him to ask about the tiny little dragon crawling across his shoulders, and took a second to process the fact that this little girl who already knew him was apparently his niece.

It was only when Fred walked over that he shook himself out of his trance and smiled, picking up the little dragon and letting it crawl across his hand and onto hers.

The same sort of scene followed everywhere they went. Evie knew each of them by name already and she didn’t hesitate to let them know. Each one of them had reacted similarly, conversing with Evie until she moved on to the next scene before moving towards you and Fred with surprise.

Though they each silently figured that they shouldn’t have been. The entire course of yours and Fred’s relationship had been filled with surprises and it only made sense that this would be your biggest one yet.

It was late by the time you finally made your way to Fred again after being pulled in every direction.

Golden hues surrounded the entire backyard as the sun started setting below the horizon. Everybody had long since surrounded Evie, more than happy to keep her entertained. At the moment she sat beside Arthur who was helping her carve one of the magically grown pumpkins they had picked together from the garden.

Meanwhile you and Fred were picking through her bag of sweets, silently hoping she wouldn’t notice how many you’d eaten already. You let out a content sigh as you leaned your head on Fred’s shoulder, “Why did we wait so long to do this?”

“I really don’t know,” He answered as he rested his head on yours, taking one of your hands with his free one. “Did you miss all of this as much as I did?”

“Absolutely.”

“Hey,” There was only a brief moment of silence before Fred suddenly turned to you with a new idea and another smirk on his face. “What are the odds we can escape for a bit now that we’ve got people to watch her for us?”

“You really have a one track mind don’t you?” You shook your head, watching as he stood up and offered you his hand.

To Fred’s delight though, you took it. He glanced behind him to make sure everyone else was otherwise occupied before winking and pulling you inside the house. “Only for you my darling.”

[vv3nti]

liar — t. oikawa & h. iwaizumi

synopsis—a love triangle of unrequited love

warnings—angst , unrequited love , break-up , some aspects based off american high school , there may be a little ooc i'm still learning to writing the hq boys sorry :/

a/n—this is a one-shot i wrote i'm hoping to make into a series- i've started part two so that's promised if not a series, send an ask or wtv to be tagged for that <3

“I’m tired of hiding, Tooru. I’m tired of being kept a secret.” You said softly, twirling the necklace around your neck between two fingers. The weight of this relationship finally lifting off your shoulders, but that didn’t stop the inevitable thump growing in your throat. You love Oikawa, you really do, but you can’t keep going like this. Your heart won’t allow it. You want someone proud to show you off and cherish you with all they have. Maybe, your expectations were too high from the beginning; if you had set the bar lower, this all could have been avoided. Or if Oikawa truly cared for you, loved you as he said he did. Whatever the reason, the dull ache was too much to bear. “I can’t do this anymore; it hurts too much.”

Oikawa had not expected those words to leave your plush lips. No, he thought you’d complain again, he’d kiss it better, and you would forget about it, like usual. But this—this was the last thing he wanted to hear. You were happy; he was sure of it. What the hell provoked you to feel like this? “What do you mean? We agreed we would wait.”

“Yeah, months ago.” You wave your hand through the air. You had no intention of allowing the boy to dismiss your concerns, not again. “And every time I mention it, you disregard my feelings like they don’t matter.”

His eyebrows furrowed, a clear frown set on his face. “Of course, your feelings matter to me.”

“If that were true, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Anxiety started creeping up your spine, a deep shiver demersing. You couldn’t help but feel off-put; if you didn’t end the conversation fast, you knew you’d slip back in his clutches. “Please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be. No one even knew we were together; that means things can go back to normal.”

“Normal?” He mumbled, eyes downcast to the floor. “What does that even mean? Nevermind that—is this about my fangirls? Because I can tell them to back off. Or Mei? Did she say something to you.” Oikawa’s calm demeanor began to wear off, and panic soon set it. The perfect picture he had planted in his head was decaying within the second, and he couldn’t manage the thought. He couldn’t even see the harsh reality behind his imagination; nothing about your relationship was ideal. Oikawa pushed you too far off the deep end, and as he tried to meet his own needs, he neglected yours.

His hands reached out to you, afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t get ahold of you soon.

The mention of his ex stung a little more than it should. But what are you supposed to feel? Tooru was publicly dating her for a lot longer than you've been together and you felt inferior to her in so many ways. They didn't break up on bad terms and you can't help but wonder if he still has feelings for her—it would justify his need to keep you a secret. “No! I’m done, I’m done with this, Tooru. This how couples are supposed to act; I don’t want to act like this. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing this. I need time, a break, anything but this.”

That night you both went home with a gaping hole in your chest and beds a little colder than before. Uncertainty crept in; was this a temporary break or a breakup. Neither of you had the answer.

You spent the first day of the long weekend cooped in your room, fresh tear streaks following the tracks on the old. On Sunday, you had to head to the school to decorate lockers for senior night or week in Sejohs case; the volleyball team had games on Tuesday and Friday this week. Luckily your appointed third year was Iwaizumi, so you didn’t have to trouble over an awkward encounter with Oikawa. Monday consisted of endless baking; it was safe to say you went slightly overboard. Assortments of brownies, cupcakes, mini cheesecakes, and peach cobbler aligned the countertops. One might say you’re a stress baker.

On the contrary, Oikawa spent his weekend hounding down on his team with tiring drills and repetitive rotations. His temper was short, and his attitude anything but playful. None of the club members wanted to be the one to confront their captain, leaving him alone in his thoughts—thoughts about you. At night he got little to no sleep, spending his sleepless nights replaying all his wrongs as if the answer will all of a sudden appear. But how is Oikawa supposed to fix a problem he didn’t even know what there.

Tuesday rolled around faster than anyone could have expected. You sat restlessly in the clubroom, waiting for Iwaizumi to meet you there. You requested him to join you in the room, considering you didn’t walk to school with him and Oikawa as you usually would. Regardless of where you interacted, you knew Iwa had many questions, and you’d preferably be interrogated in private than in front of the entire student body.

Iwa rushed into the room, school bag around his shoulder and one of his jerseys flailing in his hand. “Hey,” He spoke, his usually irritated tone nowhere to be heard. Upon seeing him, scorching anxiety rose in your chest. Deep breaths, Y/N, deep breaths. “I brought this.”

“Iwa, hi,” You chirped, hopping on the tabletop and embracing your friend—holding on a little tighter than usual. Despite your constant mantra of ‘I’m fine,’ you did long for some form of comfort. “Yes, right, thank you. Just set in on my bag. I want to show you what I made.” You dragged the boy by his hand to the table occupying your tasty treats. You figured he could share the desserts with the rest of the team once they won tonight. The hopeful look on your face slightly dropped. Iwa didn’t look as excited as you hoped for. Instead, he looked deep in thought, like something was bothering him.

“What’s going on?” He questioned quietly, finally meeting your puzzled eyes. “Come on, Y/N, you cook when you’re upset. Anyone who’s known you for more than a year knows that.”

Mouth ajar and eyes wide, you searched for an excuse to preach to Iwaizumi—although you know your attempts will be futile. Since you were in elementary school, you’ve grown up the boy and had no doubt he would read you like an open book. And if not you, then most definitely Oikawa. “Nothings going on; I just wanted you to have an array of options. Is that so bad? You could be a little more thankful, you know.”

“Of course, I’m thankful for all of this. But I’m going to find it a little concerning when Shittykawa is as quiet as a mouse, and you’ve got bags under your eyes from what? The hours you spent baking through the night?.” Iwa uttered, raising his voice a bit.

Unfortunately, that only further pushed you to the defensive stature. You wished he’d just leave it, shove it under a rug as you did this weekend. “Not everything I do involves Oikawa! If he’s acting weird, then you can ask him about that instead of undermining what I did for you!” You frantically grabbed your bag off the ground, planning to leave the room. “If you didn’t like it, you could have said thanks and thrown it away—”

“Hey, Hey,” A tight grip encloses around your bicep, halting your departure. “I’m sorry, I really like everything you did for me, you know cheesecake is my favorite. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry.” Iwaizumi’s grip doesn’t falter, even as your teary eyes meet his own.

The lump grew in your throat as you fought back the waterworks. “We broke up, or I broke up with him, I guess. Can you even break up with someone who didn’t want you in the first place?” You said, through a broken sob. Iwa doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you with the same pitiful look you’ve seen a thousand times. His free hand moved to the side of your face, patting your hair a few times before he pushed your head into his chest. Words wouldn’t provide you with the support you needed, so Iwa simply let you cry in his embrace—secretly plotting all the ways he wanted to beat Oikawa’s ass.

He didn’t need to ask. He knew all the reasons why this happened. Hell, Hajime had seen the foreseeable future unravel when Oikawa presented your relationship.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a downer on game day.” You lifted your head, lightly brushing your palms along his uniform, waiting for your tears to dry. The door to the clubroom snapped open, hitting the opposing wall, prompting you and Iwa to rush apart. The look on the face read shocked, more towards the fact you didn’t need the club questioning why you were crying this early in the morning. But the brunette boy in front of you idly took a long, deep breath encouraging you to do the same.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?”

“Just Iwa and his not-girlfriend, what’s new?” Mattsun and Makki seemed to be having a good morning, and not even Iawizumi could shake them out of the teasing moods. Despite their playful banter, you couldn’t help but focus on the silent set of eyes following your movements, and something about his silence was off-putting.

You turned to the two, a sly smile planted on your lips. “I’m not even indulging,” Fake it til’ you make it. “But I did make a small arsenal of desserts, so help yourself-”

“If I decide to share with these idiots.”

“Help yourself-if Iwa chooses to so graciously gift you the pleasure.” You said sweetly, playfully bowing as Mattsun and Makki rolled their eyes. “I have to go to class, so enjoy, and good luck.”

“Here I got it.” Iwa offered, plucking your bag from the floor with a small smile. The kind gesture made your heart flutter, your mood beginning to lift simultaneously. Ever since you were little, Iwaizumi always seemed to know what you needed to feel better, almost like an institution. Maybe that’s why his tone was short and sharp when he told Oikawa to move away from the door as you tried to leave, you’re used to his cold demeanor, but it was unsettling. You didn’t want him to be this angry with his best friend because of you, although it was a little awarding.

Oikawa’s lips laid ajar, fumbling his thoughts to form a reasonable enough sentence. He wanted to say something astounding to you, something that gave you no choice but to come back to him. He planned it all day yesterday, but now as you hide behind Iwa, he drew a blank.

“I’m serious, Oikawa. Move.”

Oikawa hung his head in shame, shuffling to the side, allowing you and Iwa to exit the room. The overwhelming feeling of patheticness climbing his veins. He didn’t mind his best friend’s anger towards him, but this wasn’t rage. Iwaizumi was disappointed, and Tooru couldn’t shake his glare.

Practice was usually a time the boys could assert their worries into energy, but the thick tension left everyone unsettled. Today’s warmup was eerily different.

Tooru watched you bounce in and out of the gym with the rest of the cheer squad; Iwa’s jersey adorned your figure. His expression held that of a kicked puppy, and it was pissing off the rest of the team. They needed their captain in his best frame of mind if they wanted to win.

Hajime’s humorless laugh broke the silence. “I warned you, you know.” Oikawa shifted his attention. “I told you you’d only hurt her, and you continued reassuring me you wouldn't, time after fucking time. And...there was a time I believed you, but you’re a liar, and Y/N sees it too.”

Oikawa’s sadness morphed into anger, eyes twitching as he bit the inside of his cheek. “If I’m a liar, that makes you one too.” He sneered, eyes still downcast on the court. His emotions were on overdrive, plucking and pinching in his mind. Oikawa knew he should resort to this method of release, but he was losing all control.

The ace sucked in a sharp breath, eye blazing. “Yea, well, I can live with that. Can you?”

Coach cut the conversation short, asking why the boys weren’t warming up before the game. The captain and ace have begotten many altercations through the years, but they always found a way to convert their anger into power. Coach Irihata only hopes that proves true with tonight’s game.

You, on the other hand, had a million tasks to complete before you could settle down in the gym, so you ultimately missed the scuffle in the gym. Just that didn’t make you ignorant to the rising tension, and you couldn’t help but feel it was your fault.

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

The Missing Guardian | Prologue: Act I Scene I | Mondstadt: The Outlander Who Caught The Wind

A.N. okay! so first chapter of a new series im starting! its a series rewrite of the genshin impact plot. i had always wanted to do one of these, and with my comic obsession, if you read marvel/dc comics youll find some crossovers hints. hope yall enjoy as i finally start to write and get on some type of schedule. its also one in the morning so imma head to bed :)

Word Count. 1,633 words

Page Count. 4.8 pages

Synopsis. When you’ve finally found a home in a set of twins who travel across worlds, setting out to enjoy your time with them; learning everything you could while traveling from world to world. But this time was different, because this time, someone stood in your way from continuing forward, from going home. You watched as your family was torn from you once again, leaving you stuck in a world alone with only a guide, the memories of a life long left behind, and the hope of finding them once again.

[ Series Masterlist: The Missing Guardian Mini Masterlist ]

[ Act I, Scene I ] [ next scene ]

Prologue Act I: Scene I | Monstadt: The Outlander Who Caught The Wind

                So, what you're trying to say is that you fell here? From another world?

                But, when you wanted to leave and go back to your world... Your path was blocked by some unknown God?

        You could only nod at Paimons commentary, watching as she floated next to you, a small hand to her chin as she looked deep in thought. Looking forward to the vast openness of the ocean in front of you, memories flashing before your own eyes as the pain settled in your heart, the wind slowly picking up before the tears filled your eyes. It hurt to think back at what happened, to how you lost them, the two people to found you after being lost for so long.

        That carmine red outlining the dark abyss shaped like a star would haunt you as a woman walked out, snowy white hair and the bandages around her legs flowing around her as her voice seemed to break through your skull, demanding your attention while the twins next to you could only look up in confusion. The anger in those golden eyes was enough to make you take a step back, you've never met her- Hell, you've never seen or heard of anyone like her, so why did she come at you with such ferocity? Even her mere presence contrasted with the ivory, baby blues, and gold of your surroundings, the heavenly area around you tainted with this... Unknown God.

        "Outlanders, your journey ends here." She demanded, the portals behind her sharpening with the wave of her hand. Lumine took a step forward, her shock evident in the small gasp she let out before speaking, determination and confusion spilled across her features.

        "Who are you?"

        "The sustainer of heavenly principles." She responds quickly, bringing a hand up to her line of vision with a small red and black cube in her hand, twirling it causing the ground beneath you to tremble, Aether looking between you and his sister. Shaking your head, you bent your knees ready to jump, the engines in your heavy boots started up, as your mask appeared on your face once again with only a light touch to the earpiece.

        "The arrogation of mankind ends now." The ground lit up around you, red and irritated with magic you haven't seen before, your boots shooting you into the air as Aether and Lumine jumped- following your lead as they pulled their golden swords and allowed their wings to manifest, holding themselves in the air.

        It was barely a second, before you moved forward with the twins by your side, your hands moving to the Quads in their holsters and taking them out for another fight. You only thanked whatever Gods in your own world were listening, and that damn mentor of yours, before your mind went back to the battle at hand- requiring you to fly around and dodge the large amounts of glistening red and gold cubes that came in your way, blocking you from the target of the Unknown God.

        Before you knew it, the end of this battle came quickly, an explosion from the mere speed of you, Lumine, and Aether stopping right before the Unknown God to attack.

        And that second was all she needed to do what was needed. 

        Her gaze fell upon you, making you shiver in fear, before you flew back and blasted a beam of energy at her from your Quad, only for it to be absorbed by a cluster of cubes. Your voice came out robotic, echoed with the technology that covered your face, you eyes moving to see the cluster of cubes enveloping the twins that were once beside you. 

        "Aether! Lumine!" They only looked at you in horror, fading once the cubes covered them whole, returning to the Unknown God in a hollowed and golden version of her twisted and unique weapon. She watched the rotating cube with wide, uncaring eyes, giving you enough time to circle around her and attack once more- throwing the handheld mines from your belt onto her form, the beeping accelerating once it met her skin, and an explosion following quickly. 

        By the time the smoke cleared, and before your mask could scan and gain some sense of recognition, the cubes that protected the Unknown God attached themselves to your outstretched hand, closing in on you while maintaining the explosion you caused. Eventually, it all settled into one cube that contained your hand, before you followed the same fate as the twins.

        "Wait! Don't go! Give them back!" You managed to scream, desperation in your voice, as you watched another family be taken from you once again, your vision fading into darkness and your heart breaking once again.

                And just like that, the god took away my friends.

                Some kind of seal was put on my being, and the power I had was gone.

                And while I had the freedom to travel the universe, worlds, and entirely new realms.

                I was now trapped.

        "How many years ago was it? I don't know, Paimon. But, I've gotta. I have to." You answered Paimons question, still looking out to the sea in front of you, mask now hidden into the earpiece that decorated your left lobe. The leather of your jacket warmed you from the cool breeze of the sea, the bodysuit underneath regulated your body temperature in any environment, but you specifically used it when in space when you held the title of Guardian. But you couldn't afford to think about that now.

        Not when there's a chance of finding Aether and Lumine. 

        "After I woke up, I was alone- until I met you two months ago." You finished, looking over to your floating friend, who only turned as she spoke.

        "Yeah. Paimon really owes you for that. Otherwise Paimon likely would have drowned... So, Paimon will do her best to be a great guide!" She smiles, hands on her hips while looking up to you, seeing as she always chose to float around chest-level when around you. You sighed, a weak chuckle escaped your lips before you sat up from the sand, brushing off the back of your cargo pants and looking towards your guide for this new world- patting her head and making sure to be careful of the crown that hovered above her.

        You had only hoped Paimon would do most of the talking for you anyways, due to Tevyat’s language being foreign even to your ears and tongue, a feat for a Guardian of your reputation. A decent understanding of the oral part of the language under your belt, you found reading to be easier, since it did look similar to some scripts back in your own world. Your thoughts were cut off as Paimon spoke up, calling for you to follow her as she sped ahead of you, following the path from out of the beach to the grassy area ahead of you.

        "Awe, the path ends here. I guess we'll just have to climb, huh?" You rolled your eyes, shaking your head while you started to heave yourself up the large rock, Paimon taking notice of this.

        "You mean I have to climb the rock, P, you just have to float." You laughed, reaching the top with a grunt before she whined about floating taking as much energy as walking or climbing. It wasn't bad, you've climbed a lot worse in even more horrid situations, but damn did that take a good breath from you. You'd have to work on rebuilding some of your stamina while traveling here, and possibly need to find some supplies to settle somewhere for a bit, maybe even collect whatever currency they had here.

        "Well, let's take the route we planned! We're off to... a Statue of The Seven!" She smiles with glee, before a questionable face appears as you both move forward, her head turning towards you as you attempt to take in much of the scenery and areas you could. Your heavy boots only crushed the poor underbrush and grass that came into contact with it, your belt that was filled with gadgets and such clinking with the sway of your hips- hitting the holsters.

        This world is beautiful...

        "Which of The Seven are you looking for exactly?" She asked, making you shrug your shoulders at her, hands up as you walked towards a nearby tree- picking up the strange orange fruits and packing them away before moving forward. They looked like some weird crossbreed of orange and pear, but, you hoped it would taste as good as it looked.

        "To be honest? Any of them. They should have some idea of what happened, but even then, The Seven are gods in this world- and from what I remember of gods... they aren't too sane to say the least." You said, reaching a small cliff side that overlooked a lake with a statue near the edge of the small island in the center of it. 

        "That's a Statue of The Seven!" She pointed in its direction as you gave her your full attention, your finger going to touch the back of your ear to signal that, mindful of the metal to not trigger the activation of your mask.

        "There are a few of these statues scattered across the land to show The Seven's protections over the world. Among the seven gods, this god controls the wind. Paimon's not sure whether the god your looking for is the Anemo God, but... Paimon'll take you to the Anemo God's place first, and there's a reason why~" She muses, giving you a small wink before turning around, allowing you to follow her down the path to the first Statue of The Seven.

        To the first step towards finding Aether and Lumine.

        Your journey has started.

[ktheist]

nice guys finish last | m

synopsis. you thought you were over yoongi’s dick move of ending your engagement through his parents - not even a text when he disappeared out of your life. that’s why you agreed to the newly arranged marriage with his brother, namjoon, but on the brink of your wedding day, it becomes apparent that you haven’t really let go of the past as you tear up in front of your soon-to-be husband at the back room of the church.

◟alternatively, “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

pairings. husband!ceo!namjoon x doctor!reader x ex-fiance!producer!yoongi

genre. arraged marriage au. angst. fluff. smut.

word. 16.2k

content: age gap factor (namjoon is 5 years older than oc and yoongi is 7 years older than oc). pining. teasing. hoseok cockblocking.

warning(s): heavy adult content. mentions of cheating. hospital scenes.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

x

“i don’t want to marry you at all. the person i love is someone else.” there are tears brimming in your eyes but if there’s anything the years of etiquette class namjoon’s parents forced on him taught him - he’d say he turned out okay - it’s to not mention to the crying lady that she’s crying. but he can’t help stare a little longer. admire a little too much.

the rays flooding through the window paired with the prettiest ivory dress he’s seen you in gives you an iridescent halo. you look like an angel descended from the top most heavens.

but not for him.

“i know,” he lets out a drawn out sigh, hand on his neck. he’s always been the awkward one between the two. if it was him - if it was his brother, he would say it without any ounce of self-reproach. but then again what does namjoon have to be sorry for? for being born? for being the second choice son to step into his brother’s shoes when the aforementioned man threatened to disown the family name if their parents refused to let him marry a girl of his choice who, according to the workers’ gossip, ‘he suddenly woke up one day and decided he was in love with’? 

“it’s yoongi, isn’t it? you love yoongi.”

your eyes are prettier when you’re looking directly at him. the tears give them a kind of glow that makes him want to gather you into his arms and keep you there. the flushed cheeks affirms - despite saying it with full confidence, it was just - his hunch.

oh.

the ceremony proceeds rather smoothly. you’re still sniffling when your father passes your hand to him at the end of the aisle. the older man himself looks distraught. either he knows you’re against this marriage and hates himself for failing to put his daughter’s happiness before the guaranteed wealth that comes from marrying you off to the kim family or you’d gotten into a fight with him in a last ditch attempt to convince him to call off the marriage.

either way, you’re here now. the pastor’s words are muddled in your ears but it’s enough to take note of the end tone and the steely silence that ensues which could only mean it’s your turn to say those words.

“i do.” they’re the easiest to get over with.

after endless fights with your parents, going on two hunger strikes and running away to paris for a year - you know you’re in the endgame. and you’ve painstakingly and sorely lost.

he lifts the veil off your face, taking his time with setting it over your head. it’s no secret that kim namjoon is handsome. the kind of thick, textured-fabric-suit-wearing and sleek-back hair kind of handsome. yoongi was more of the hoodie-and-jeans and messy-in-need-of-a-trim hair kind of handsome. but he isn’t yoongi.

you screw your eyes shut, refusing to let the memories of your own wedding vows embed in your head. those beautiful pink full lips are as soft as they look. but they’re not kissing you on your pressed-into-a-straight-line lips. betrayed by your curiosity, your eyes flutter open only to gaze upon the smooth cream skin that wraps around his neck and just the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple as he pulls way.

your newly-wed husband has just kissed you on the forehead.

x

adjusting to married life is as easy as slipping on your favorite shoes. it’s perfect. almost unsettling even. the beach house off the coast of the private island namjoon’s family owns is breathtaking. the sound of waves crashing against the shores is your constant companion as you work on your research. it’s a project you had to put aside when you graduated. the first year at the hospital is the busiest, or so your senior colleagues say. 

namjoon strides into the kitchen sometime past noon, all fresh and showered with a fitting long sleeved shirt and trousers. it’s the most dressed down you’ve ever seen and yet for some people you know, it’s the fanciest they can get. sometimes you wonder if the standards have hit the ground or if namjoon’s so well-adapted into the routine of dressing up presentable enough to go to his office on an off day in case something calls for it.

“good morning.” you greet first, traces of the embarrassing tear-jerking wedding ceremony still lingers in the back of your mind - you’d tried to explain yourself on the way here in the boat but namjoon had easily blew your worries away with a light chuckle and a “i’d do the same too if i loved someone and had to marry another person.”

it’s not unusual for you to already be perched on the elegant gold sofa adjacent to the sliding doors that has the best view of the sea. the master bedroom is the other part of the beach house with spectacular view - you’d been entranced when you stepped into the room on your first day. but namjoon suggested you stay in the guest room, knowing there’s no way you would share a bed with him -

“or you can take this room and i take the guest room,” he added a moment later, probably because he saw you staring out the balcony, bewitched by the sea. that had broke you from your trance and you’d shook your head so much in protest, you were surprised it didn’t fall right off your neck. “n-no! i mean - i’ll take the guestroom.”

his parents had been nice enough to lend their private beach house for you honeymoon. you weren’t going to step over their son and conquer the master bedroom - even if technically, you’re now part of the family.

“morning.” he fixes you with that half-smile. the kind of smile you give to someone you’re in an complacent relationship with but nothing more.

at least you’ve got that going for you. and that’s a rarity coming from the gossips you’ve heard here and there about marriages found on the ground of convenience.

his eyes swipe over the ipad in your shorts-donned lap from his spot, leaned against the counter in the kitchen, pitch black mug of coffee with wafts of smoke coming out of it, “how’s your research going?”

“well,” you set the ipad down on the glass surface of the coffee table, it’s bare of anything besides your phone that’s been lighting up from the notifications. one from your mother, another from the group of friends you found in college, and the rest is from your strictly-women group from the hospital, “the world wide web is resourceful and all but it can’t beat the information in actual books - papers, you know?”

“ah, the traditional way of researching.” he chuckles, dimples digging into his cheek, enhancing his handsome features. you never knew he had dimples. not that you knew much about him - you’d only properly talked on the day of your wedding, in the back room and the first thing you said was -

you suppress the memories further down your thoughts. it works for the most part, but you can’t help the flush that spreads across your face. so the laugh you let out is a little strained and if he notices, he doesn’t show - like he pretends not to notice a plenty many things.

but alas, he knew your secret crush - was it still just a crush you had for yoongi? you’re not sure.

“what can i say? i’m raised traditional.”

x

that was two weeks ago. now, you’re back to working your ass off at the hospital, being grilled to the bones by your supervisor, getting reprimanded over being one minute late and then being told to run to the cafe five minutes from the hospital to buy your supervisors their favorite strawberry smoothie topped with sprinkles.

“kim seokjin, that dickwad.” jennie huffs, her cat-like eyes making it appear as though she’s plotting the man’s death. “he’s working you to the bones as soon as you get back.”

“he probably thinks i’m not that serious about my residency since my family has enough fortune to sustain me for my whole lifetime,” you can only laugh at that, her anger has sucked all the tiredness and annoyance you have for your supervisor right out of you. it feels refreshing, “all the more reason to prove him wrong.”

“enough about that asshole,” jisoo waves a dismissive hand off and you know what’s coming is far more terrifying: she blinks, eyes filled with stars and cherry red lips curling into the kind of smile that can only mean one thing, “how was it? the second son of kimcorp. were there rose petals on bed? candles lit around the house? a romantic, sizzling-”

“sorry, jisoo, i gotta go get ready for the dinner. i’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, okay?” you clasp your hands together apologetically when your phone buzzes with the reminder you set a week prior: 8am annual kimcorp dinner.

you breathe a sigh of relief as you shake off your white coat, draping it over your recliner before escaping to the washroom with a bag of makeup and the dust-proof cover bag of the outfit you’re wearing for tonight. by the time you’re touching up on your nude lipstick, your phone buzzes again but this time, the screen lights up with namjoon’s name on it.

“hey,” his voice is deeper through the phone - it’s the first time he calls you. there was never any reason for you to call each other but you suppose, he’s calling to make sure you’re not forgetting the dinner -

“i’m in front of the hospital.”

or maybe not.

“wh-what do you mean?” your cheeks heat up from the thought of namjoon waiting for you in his audi. the image, too domestic for your liking.

“well, you can’t drive so i thought i’d pick you up.” he says it like its the simplest equation to understand.

“namjoon,” the name feels foreign on your tongue regardless of how many times you taste it when you need to tell him something - to set the line straight, “i didn’t know you were gonna pick me up so i already told kyungsoo to pick me up. he’s probably already here. sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

“i know,” he says simply.

“e-excuse me?” while you’re beyond confused.

“i told your parents i’d pick you up so kyungsoo’s driving them to the dinner.”

“oh.”

wait. what?! 

x

namjoon is confident in his driving skills - as he is with everything he does. he’s almost perfect. the line of his shoulders seem at ease as he stirs the wheel with one hand and the other rests on the gear, inches away from your scarlet clad thighs.

“why isn’t hoseok driving you?” the aforementioned man sticks to him like glue. everywhere namjoon goes, he goes. it’s a given since he’s the head secretary but anyone who’s seen them interact could tell there’s more than boss-employee relationship between them. they seem like close friends which is unlikely be given namjoon’s too-serious nature and hoseok’s joke-cracking every five minutes - but not impossible.

his face remains the same as he keeps his eyes on the road, humming briefly, “he had a thing.”

“can secretaries have a thing and leave their boss to drive for himself like that?” that doesn’t sound right. you may not be actively involved in fecam industries’ affairs but mr. jung, your dad’s secretary, spends more time with your dad than the two men do with their wives - that’s how demanding the business world is. but could hoseok get a free pass because of his and namjoon’s friendship?

namjoon chuckles, dimples and all and you can’t help but blush at the side profile. if anything, he has a sharp jawline and beautiful neck-

you push the thought as soon as it comes. neck? who finds necks beautiful?

“he had a date but it’s not until a couple hours,” the tone he uses is light and playful but underlined with a sort of bashfulness that you don’t know kim namjoon was capable of, “i told him to go home because i wanted to pick you up myself.”

your cheeks heat up all over again as you stare at him a little too long. so much so, the hand that’s been comfortably perched on the gear goes to the back of his neck in an unsure manner.

“i just needed to talk to you about something.” he explains, just as awkward as he was in the back room at the church.

“okay.” eyes turned to the road too, you can see namjoon breathing a sigh of relief from your periphery. that couldn’t have been because of you could it? was he nervous because you were watching him? “what did you want to talk about?”

he clears his throat, that natural ease in his tone returning, “if it gets uncomfortable - if anyone asks, we met because you were yoongi’s fiancee and we couldn’t help but fall in love. but you wanted to intern at a hospital in paris so that’s why we’ve only gotten married now.”

you take awhile to digest the information until something in your stomach doesn’t sit right with you, “you want me to... lie?”

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth just for the briefest moment as he thinks about it. he probably didn’t expect you to disagree but he admits his mistake faster than half the people you know your whole life would, “i’m sorry, i didn’t think it would weight on your conscience. i was thought it’d be hard on you if some ass- someone’s going to start a rumor about you but i didn’t ask how you’d feel about it.”

“i see.” you simply nod. it’s true that you’re the pass-up fiancee who got between two people who fell in love in college but the other is the son of a renown family and engaged while the other is an arts major from a normal working family. unable to let bygones be bygones, you decide to marry the younger brother to your fiance - or so the story goes. “but they already know i was yoongi’s fiancee and i ended up marrying you. i don’t need - no, i don’t want to explain myself to anyone.”

despite that big talk, your can feel the prickle of tears in your eyes. namjoon steals a glance at you and he never mentions the glassiness of your gaze - if anything, he smiles. it’s different than the usual smiles. this one, though wordless, says he’s following your flow. do what you like and if and when things get though, you can count on me.

x

dinner has yet started when you arrived. guests are still arriving and waiters and waitresses are carrying trays of champagne glasses around. in a distance, your friends wave at you to come over. you smile, hand falling away from namjoon’s since you needed to at least do that in front of the paparazzo that were waiting outside. eager, hungry for gossip about the wedding that shook south korea’s business world.

“girl, you are glowing.”  yerin literally screams. it’s a secret to no one that she’s hinting on your recent marriage and private island getaway. but nothing happened.

“how are you girls? it’s been so long.” you side hug eunha, letting her arms wrap around your waist as you stand huddled together.

you haven’t seen them since you got back from paris. the wedding was attended by thousands of people - all of whom, your and namjoon’s family’s associates. but you had your hands full shaking hands and smiling next to your husband because these people matter to namjoon. or at least he has an interest over them. business deals. merges. trades. kimcorps carries out every kinds of business they can get their hands on. namjoon passingly mentioned about the work-in-progress for a private hospital.

you dread the likelihood of having to leave the hospital you’re working in right now for family-run one but you know it’s quite impossible to not get involved when you, yourself is a doctor.

“we weren’t the ones who went under the radar and came back and got married to the second son of kimcorp.” yuju huffs sulkily, cheeks pinked from the champagne she’s had but she isn’t that far gone when she clamps her mouth shut a second later, eyebrows furrowing in guilt.

sowon nudges her side anyway, mouthing her something as your gaze falls on the light caught in your black gucci heels.

“i-i’m sorry, ___ that didn’t come out right.” comes a heartbeat later, she sounds just as sorry as her words as you offer her a small smile. 

“it’s okay, it’s the truth anyway.”

“stop that,” eunha suddenly gripes, her gaze boring into you and rips apart the barrier you’ve tried so hard to maintain, “we’ve been friends since elementary school, we know how whipped you are for that asshole so-” she sniffles while you’re left wondering if it’s her who had an ex-fiance break if off and had his parents relay the news on a bi-weekly dinner. 

“she’s trying to say you can cry or get mad or curse that dipshit around us. don’t hold back.” sowon finishes, lips twitching as she enjoys watching the vulnerable state of the otherwise fiercest one among you.

something in your chest feels light. like a weight being lifted off your shoulders as you study the girl’s face one by one. sowon’s and yerin’s smirk, yuju’s nodding and eunha’s teary eyes. 

“yoongi, he’s-” you take a deep breath and it feels almost dramatic as the second stretches on while you build up the hurt, the anxiousness, the disbelief that the man put you through, “-a fucking idiot.”

“you bet he is,” yerin’s basically screams, swiping a glass for you and holding hers up, “that fucking idiot.”

you tighten your side hug on eunha in an ‘i’m okay’ gesture as you clink your glasses together.

it’s a few moments later that murmurs start to spread around. the tension that comes with the latest arrived guest thick enough to command every attention in the room.

“she’s ballsy. coming here.” sowon offhandedly comments, eyes trained on the girl who has her hand on yoongi’s arm like an iron clamp. “right into the lion’s den.”

she may not have her parents’ money to groom her into the women you and the girls are. but maybe that’s why she has her own air. her poised steps, coupled with a cocktail creme laced dress and relaxed smile easily gives her an innocent cloak. someone friendly and good-tempered and can adjust well to her suddenly-plunged-into-money circumstance when she married yoongi. that must have been why you never heard any bad rumors about her even though there’s almost always at least one gossip enthusiast in these socials.

“ugh, i hate her!” yuju hisses, eyes more focused as she places her glass onto one of the waiter’s trays.

“i-i think i’m going to get myself some snacks.” with that, you slip past the guests until you’re at the end of the room, standing in front of the everything-you-can-eat table lined up with pastries only from the best bakes.

that moment, when you looked from her to yoongi, your eyes met. his hair is a little longer than you remember it, flowing in light blue tresses until just a few centimeters above his eyebrows. the first two buttons of his shirt is undone. her doesn’t wear a necktie - he despises how suffocating they feel. but he’s managed to keep on his blazer - he used to say they were hot and took them off and left them in the back seat of the car when you arrived at an event. he used to attend these events with you. just the two of you. for four years. you thought you’d keep doing so for longer after you got married.

“you know, they’re not plastic and made for display.” a voice breaks you from your train of thoughts.

“p-pardon?” you blink once. confused.

“the pastries,” namjoon lulls his head to the side where towers of tarts, macaroons, pavlova and sliced cakes stand tall and proud, “they’re edible.”

it takes a moment for you to register that he was joking - kim namjoon? cracking jokes?

his smile tilts higher when you chuckle. it’s brief but the look of relief oh his face lingers. he must have seen you escape from your group of friends. and this is his own way of checking up on you.

“thank you, namjoon.” you murmur low enough for only you and him to hear, lips tugging in the corners. “but i’m fine - i just - seeing him for the first time like this - it’s just unexpected. even though this is an annual dinner held by his family and he has every right to be here.”

“that’s her? the ex-fiancee?” a guest asks in a hushed tone somewhere a few feet away. but she’s not very discreet as she thinks she is.

“yeah, she couldn’t get the older brother so she went for the younger one.”

apparently, her company needs to attend classes on how-to-whisper-101 too.

“how mortifying. and the brother just goes with it?”

“he must have felt compelled to save her face. you know how nice and well-mannered he is-”

the low noise namjoon makes under his breath catches your attention. the muscles on his face is strained and twisted. it barely shows. just a crease between his eyebrows and the lack of smile. he hardly ever smiles from the tabloids and interviews you’ve seen of him so people might not notice the displeasure. but after a whole month of knowing namjoon, if there’s anything you can say for certain about the man, it’s the stockpile of smiles he has to offer.

“namjoon, it’s okay. i don’t care.” you smile, it’s forced and you know he notices it right off the bat but sighs anyway, shoulder line falling just slightly as he runs a hand over his sleek styled hair.

his lips move and you hear the words he uttered but somehow your mind couldn’t comprehend the information without going blank. “s-sorry?”

“it agitates me that they’re freely spewing bullshit like this,” he huffs, cheeks tinted pink at having to repeat his words. “it’s taking everything in me not to go over there and tell them their husbands have at least one business deal with kimcorp. and i can end it and it’d plunge their family into bankruptcy.”

“wh-why would you do such a thing?” the question comes out almost dumbly but if it did, he doesn’t say. he just... keeps looking at you.

you’re barely able hold yourself from squirming under his scrutiny, the smile now awkward in all places.

“if you don’t mind, can i kiss you?” his eyes widen just the slightest bit as he corrects himself, “on the forehead i mean.”

he clears his throat, eyes straying away from you as if he couldn’t bear to look at your face after that mistake. “just so i can prove to them i wasn’t forced to marry you.”

the light pinkish blush spreads to the tip of his ears and neck as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. you’re not sure why, but the sight in front of you is endearing and you find yourself saying-

“okay, kiss me.”

you didn’t specify where. and maybe, as the heat flares across your own cheeks when his arm band around your waist and a warm hand presses up against you cheekbone - maybe you want him to kiss you somewhere else.

the chatter stops and so does time. but it’s only for as long as namjoon’s full lips are on your forehead, kissing you for the second time. then, time resumes and murmurs begin to spread louder than when yoongi made his arrival. when the gravelly voice speaks from somewhere behind namjoon, you know why.

“get a room, will you?” yoongi’s tone is light - you’d taken a whole year getting used to it to know he’s being playful and not condescending.

“yoongi.” namjoon greets, unlike the elder man, his sounds better natured but there’s a sort of underlying detachment. his arm is still on your lower back almost as if he needs to feel that you’re here or he’d be completely detached. “i didn’t think you’d show up. you hate these events.”

the aforementioned man draws out a long sigh as though he’s been found out over a poorly told lie. “i don’t but naeun wanted to go - you know how things are with mom and dad. she thinks it’s gonna make them open up.”

it’s no secret your father and mother-in-law doesn’t talk about yoongi’s marriage - they never do around you but you thought they were being considerate. but what yoongi’s saying right now could mean his relationship with his parents are far more strained than you thought it’d be. especially since they had let him marry the girl of his dreams who’s clearly below their standards.

she - naeun - is standing somewhere near the exit, conversing with the notorious older generation that yerin duped ‘the wickeds’. for their ways of gaining wealth, for their poor treatment towards their employees, for socially shunning a young man - new money, for addressing one of them casually. she is ballsy.

“it’s been awhile,” yoongi’s directly addressing you now. the tug on his lips as playful as an old friend’s greeting. you don’t know how he can look at you like nothing happened. “you’re finally a resident now, huh?”

“yeah, finally.” you smile, the kind of smile that celebrates her triumph. the celebration part is true but the smile is every bit unnatural. but it seems to fool yoongi as he nods, proud.

somewhere in your chest, the strings on your heart clenches at the unchanging personality of this man. no wonder you like him.

before the conversation can tread further down memory lane, there’s an announcement to have the guests move to another room where dinner is being served.

“we’ll get going first then.” namjoon announces, guiding you by the waist as yoongi nods, waiting for naeun to come to his side before going in himself.

x

 dinner went smoother than expected. yoongi and naeun showed up uninvited and were placed in the back seats where the people socially displaced guests are. you felt bad when you saw naeun’s distorted expression as waiters bring in chairs to the table for the both of them. but there’s nothing you could have done.

“you have an 8am shift tomorrow, right?” namjoon asks as you slip your heels off, wincing at when one of them brushes against the blisters. they’re gonna be a bitch to deal with tomorrow.

stretching your arms out as you walk up the stairs, you hum in confirmation. “mhm, and you have dinner with ms. yoo, right?”

it’s ironic how you know each other’s schedule despite not being anything more than two people sharing one house and happens to be married. guess you’ll chalk it up with the fact that you both respect each other enough to be aware of each other’s whereabouts - not the creepy kind of way but the share-me-your-live-location-so-i-know-you’re-safe kind of way.

namjoon was quiet until you take a left to where the guest bedroom-turned-permanent-bedroom is, “it got rescheduled.”

your hand hovers over the door handle as you crane your neck to look at the man on the top of the stairs. his bow tie is loosened, the button to his color undone and his blazer is draped over one arm - a telltale sign of a final end to the night. “i was hoping we could have dinner to together. after work.”

yes but you don’t usually go straight home after work. you usually spend time at the library either at your previous college or at the hospital. you’ve decided to continue your research no matter how taxing it may be since you came back from the honeymoon. namjoon knows and the fact he asks you to dinner anyway - it’s unlike him.

he’s the kind of person that would ask if you had free time and match his schedule to yours. not ask for your time.

“yeah, sure.” you say and you think you see his shoulder line sagging as if he’s just let out a long-held breath, “pick me up at 8?”

“yeah.” he nods, dimples showing as his lips curl at your answer, “at 8.”

only when the door closes behind you, do you let yourself slide down to the ground. heels lying next to your thighs and dress in need of being sent for washing. your cheeks are and neck and ears are hot. dinner? just you and namjoon? like... a date?

x

jisoo isn’t around when lunch rolls by.

“a patient got rolled into er this morning - couldn’t contact any of his family members. suho decided to go ahead with surgery but he reacted badly to the anesthesia so she had to make up for her suho’s mistake and monitor his patient.” jennie’s face scrunches at the other woman’s supervisor pushing the task on her. shoving a forkful of the cheese cake, she sighs as the medical professional side take over, “thank god the surgery went smoothly though despite all that.”

you hum in contemplation, comparing the well-established crazy bitch seokjin who pushes those under his supervision to their limits and suho’s less-than-extreme approach. you used to envy jisoo and jennie for getting suho as their supervisor but at the end of the day, with every push from seokjin, you get out of it stronger and wiser. “i hope she doesn’t forget to have her meals.”

the day ends faster than usual. of course with rounds and surgeries you have to assist with, you’ve always find yourself barely realizing the setting sun - the sign of that your shift has ended.

but you could have sworn it was 5pm when you last checked the time. an car crash patient had arrived at the er and you forgot you’d left your phone on your desk, running out to assist the critical patient. it’s only when you’ve plopped into your recliner, head thrown back in fatigue, do you notice the vibration of your phone.

namjoon’s name flashes across your screen. your eyes almost bulges out of their sockets as you swipe to the right.

the deep voice from the other end is as calm as ever, “hey, ___-”

“namjoon!” you almost scream with guilt, phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you shrug the coat off one shoulder before using the free now free hand to hold the phone and shrug off the other shoulder, “where are you?”

“i’m at the parking lot. i couldn’t wait at the lobby because i was obstructing the other cars - i called you a few times.” he sounds almost concerned and your heart clenches tightly in you chest at the thought of him waiting for you for over an hour.

you burst onto the parking lot - searching for the sleek black audi until a red bugatti rolls over. you’re about to take a step back seeing as you’re almost standing in the middle of the road - when the driver on the other side of the car steps out. his usually gelled hair is mussed from the amount of times he ran his hand over it, cuffs rolled to just below his elbow, revealing the dark veins that run just below the skin on his arm. 

namjoon fixes you with that eased smile, going around the gently purring vehicle and opening the door to the passenger seat for you. the arm which hand he uses to hold the door open pulls on the thin fabric of his button down in all the right places. so this is a the normal end-of-the-day look.

you always get back a bit later than him and by the time he looks up from his work that’s laid out over the coffee table, he would usually already have bathed and changed into one of those long-sleeved shirts.

x

the restaurant he initially booked for dinner had cancelled. naturally. so you end up in a barbecue place five minutes away from the hospital. this is where you and your colleagues go when to celebrate a birthday, promotion or finally-having-a-boyfriend/girlfriend.

the slices of meat sizzles on the grill, its marinated aroma wafting in the air. but your stomach churns with a different kind of sensation - guilt. “i-i’m sorry. because of me you had to wait an hour and got cancelled by the restaurant.”

then, he chuckles. it’s the same kind of good natured chuckle that reverberates every time you say something amusing - but you can’t see how any of this is.

his says your name. the syllabus rolls out of his tongue in waves but you chalk up the blush spreading on your face with the heat of the grill so close to you. he leans back against the backrest, sleeves filled out to the brim as he crosses his arms over his chest. “you were the one saving a life. all i did was wait.”

“y-yeah but still.” no emergency is foreseeable, otherwise you could have saved more lives than you do now. and it’s still not enough. “i forgot about you.”

namjoon nods, taking your words into consideration - as if he never thought about it that way. as if he truly doesn’t mind wasting his time over some woman he has to tolerate because he’s married to her. “cook me dinner then.”

“wh-what?”

“i don’t want you to beat yourself up and i know whatever i say is going to come off as me being nice.” the corners in his lips tugs upwards, “so make it to me by cooking dinner.”

once your brain is done registering what he said, you clutch your hands in your lap as though you’re clinging onto this one time chance to make up for your fault, “yes! i-i mean yeah, sounds fair.”

the smooth sound of his chuckle isn’t lost to the sizzle of the meat. to him, it must be a small matter but to you, it’s a matter of pride.

“this saturday then?” you offer, a bit too eager.

almost as if remembering something, he releases a long drawn out sigh, “business trip to tokyo.”

“next weekend?”

“mom’s home sweeter home fundraiser for the orphans on saturday. sunday?”

“night shift. how bout breakfast?”

“golf with seollyu’s director.”

a heavy pause lapses in the room. after a moment, namjoon reaches for the chopsticks, flipping the slices of meat over.

your shoulders sag, lips pursed in a pout. this isn’t an unusual occurrence in your years of being the daughter of your family. your father is devoutly involved in the family business and your mother is busy with her charity work. you’ve celebrated birthdays with the staff more than you do with them.

the glint of the chopstick that’s placing a piece of meat on your plate catches your eyes. you study the long nimble fingers to the vein that runs from the back of its hand and disappear somewhere below his arm before you gulp, meeting his eyes - did he notice you checking out his arm?

“we’ll figure something out.” if he did, he doesn’t say as he fixes you with an assuring smile, “but right now you need to get some food in you. eat up dr. ___. you did great today at work.”

this time, you really can’t blame the grill for the blush.

x

“you could’ve told mom you couldn’t do brunch.” namjoon tells you in the elevator to the 15th floor of your in-laws’ house. it’s been three days since that night. he’s left for work but prior to this morning, he’d already made it clear that it was no problem at all picking you up from home.

he’s probably saying this because of the lack of makeup you’d put on. some pats of compact powder and bright red lipstick can’t hide the bags underneath those tired eyes. you’d spend extra hours reading about the defective genes and the fix to remodel them so every child born from parents from a history of relatives with inheritable diseases could live a life without the risk of said disease.

“i’m fine.” you wave a dismissive hand before stretching in the compact space in a last ditch attempt to wake yourself up and hopefully look fresher by the time you reach the floor. “’sides, i’ve been so focused on work, it’s nice to see mom and dad every once in awhile.”

you’ve gotten used to referring to mr. and mrs. kim as if they’re your own parents - in a way, they are. you’ve known them for as long as you can remember.

“you have to be at the hospital by noon, right?”

you hum in confirmation. though you insisted on grabbing a cab to the hospital since it’s on the opposite side of the office, namjoon had insisted better. “mhm, oh we’re here.”

a ding! echoes throughout the elevator when it stops, doors opening to a hallway with black and yellow walls and ceiling, paired with honey marble flooring. it takes a few seconds before the black door at the end of the hallway to swing open but instead of the warm smile of the elderly lady, a bring and vibrant naeun beams at the both of you.

“you’re here. come in.” she steps aside, the hem of her sundress fluttering as she moves.

your body tenses at the proximity of the woman who you thought you could avoid until a much later time. and from the barely noticeable lifted brows that namjoon does, you know he wasn’t expecting his sister-in-law too. if she’s here, so is yoongi.

“we picked these up on the way.” you hand her the paris baguette paper bag. you’d ordered a mix of fruit tarts, cinnamon rolls and macaroon. all of which you remember mrs. kim mentioning to be her favorites. 

“oh! you shouldn’t have but thank you.” up close, naeun is much more prettier with a natural pinkish tint across her cheeks that makes her seem dreamy and glossed cheery lips that complements the gentle air she carries around. she passes the bag to one of the staff that’ll probably unbox them and plate them.

you offer her a smile - though a bit strained. and she must have noticed when she sighs softly, eyes darting to her fuchsia flats before looking back up at you with a furrowed brows. but even when she’s frowning, she’s pretty.

“i’ve been wanting to meet you and properly apologize for not being able to attend the wedding - i had an exhibition that day in prague and yoongi wouldn’t let me go by myself even though i thought at least one of us should go to his brother’s wedding.” she chuckles at the last part as if replaying the heartwarming scene of her protective husband choosing his wife over his family. you can feel every fiber of your body coiling and writhing - it takes everything for you not to leave through the door. would yoongi have done the same for you?

“this must be awkward for you, isn’t it?” her lips tug into a half-smile - a telltale that she’s equally uncomfortable to talk about this topic. “with you and yoongi being engaged before but now i’m the one married to him. but i hope we can put everything past us and be a family.”

but something in the way she talks - it’s as if she sympathizes. as if she’s saying it’s okay, you shouldn’t feel ashamed. but what are you supposed to be shameful of? of being engaged to yoongi before? of marrying his brother when said engagement fell through? perhaps you should have gave mrs. kim a hard ‘no’ when she pleaded with teary eyes for you and your parents’ forgiveness when she and mr. kim had to break the news over dinner two years ago. so you wouldn’t have to develop a hard skin and pretend you didn’t care about the ruthless rumors that have spread far and wide after your marriage to namjoon. 

“oh? yeah, it was a long time ago.” you offhandedly say - it’s that moment, when her eyes twitches just the slightest bit that you realize it wasn’t all just in your head. she did mean to make you feel embarrassed when she started mentioning the engagement.

you join namjoon and mrs. kim at the garden while naeun follows suit a second later, taking the middle among the three seats. the elder woman’s eyes light up at the sight of you, her heels clacking against the wooden flooring as she crosses the distance and engulfs you in a hug. you hug back, smiling at the woman’s motherly warmth.

“___, my favorite daughter, what happened to you?” she cups your cheeks, brows furrowing as she seem to examine your complexion.

you should’ve used concealer. 

“the hospital is working you to the bone isn’t it? why, it’s been awhile since i had lunch with chairman lee, maybe i should give his wife a call.”

that’s how it works when you have connections. if someone’s daughter or son fails to get into college or a job through regular exams or interviews, a dinner or lunch with the director of the institution will get the child admitted overnight. that’s probably why seokjin was harder on you than usual when you got back from your honeymoon - he must think you’re not serious about being a doctor. it’s not a secret he came from old money but he’d cut off all ties with his family when he started working. he has more ethics than half of the people you know.

“___ doesn’t like it when you do these things, mom.” yoongi grumbles - always the painfully honest one. the chair screeches as he pulls it and plops between naeun and namjoon while their father occupies the seat next to mrs. kim. it looks like they just came from mr. kim’s home office. and judging from the stiffness of their posture, the talk must have been a serious one.

namjoon’s shoulder line tightens just the slightest bit - you almost thought it was just a figment of your imagination but when you steal a glance at his face, you know he’s not too keen in having yoongi sit next to him. so you weren’t imagining it when he seemed like he was escaping yoongi by not waiting for naeun to come and walk with you to into the dining hall.

you’re not lost to yoongi’s familiar tone when he spoke on your behalf. but you’re not happy either. forcing a laugh, you push a strand to the back of your ear for the sake of doing something, “i-it’s not the hospital. i’ve been staying up late to work a bit on my research.”

a worker comes with the baked goods you brought. they’re plated on perfectly polished ceramic - you can easily see your forced smile in its reflection when the woman sets them down the table in front of you. 

“research?” yoongi lifts one eyebrow at you. too casually. and it takes you back to those times when you used to visit him at his college’s library and you’d bring your homework with you whilst you slip in a few ‘what i did’s as he typed away on his mac but still managed to keep up with you and asked questions here and there. a sign that he’d been present and listening.

“___’s been working on researching how segregate defective genes during the fetal stage so the fetus won’t take on their parents’ inherent diseases when they’re born.” namjoon explains the simplified version almost as though it’s part of his day-to-day line of work. he grins at you, the corners of his lips tugging with pride - a gratification of being able to show you off.

“that’s good. you’re making a difference in this world.” mr. kim is the first to break the silence. and in the years you’ve known him, it means the highest level of flattery you’ll ever get from the man.

your cheeks are flushed red and you know well enough it’s not because of mr. kim’s compliment than it is his son’s. “it’s still just a research draft but th-thank you. mister-” the elder man raises his brow and you quickly correct yourself, “i mean, dad.” 

he nods at the word, the slightest hint of smile disappearing under the cup of tea he brings to his mouth.

“but still, don’t push yourself too hard. working as a doctor takes up a lot of time already.” naeun fixes you with a worried gaze but something about her tone makes your stomach churn - it’s as if she’s playing down the time and effort you’d invested in your research and reminding you to focus on your paying job. even if you did downplay yourself when you were responding to mr. kim. before you can sort out the wave of emotions clashing inside you, namjoon seems to beat you to it.

“not everyone can do what ___’s doing. it’s okay if she wants to do more,” a hand slips under yours in your lap, reverting your gaze from the beautiful woman to the apparent difference in the size of yours and namjoon before you turn your cheek to him. it was a mistake because now you’re holding your breath as you come face to face. his body is leaned into you as he speaks, “i’ll just take care of ___ better.”

he turns to naeun, lips twitching upwards in a brief smile as if to enforce it more and putting a finality to the topic. but you’re left staring at namjoon’s sharp jawline until mrs. kim makes a squealing sound as she clamps her mouth shut in an attempt to tease you.

“gosh, is my baby all grown up now? he’s saying he’ll take care of his wife!”

the chuckle you let out is nowhere near natural or entertained. not when your insides are burning and you think your heart is going into overdrive from how fast it’s beating. and it doesn’t help that namjoon’s too casually playing along “of course, i only have one wife.”

x

“namjoon,” you take a second to gather yourself, hands fiddling in your lap as the car rolls to a stop in front of the lobby. the man fixes you with an inquisitive gaze. of course, who wouldn’t be wondering what’s up if their name was spoken with so much weight in them like you did with namjoon’s? “what was that? the wife thing?”

he stares into the street as he sifts through his memory before he fixes you with a gaze clouded with guilt, “i’m sorry. i got carried away - it won’t happen again.”

and that’s the thing. namjoon is too fast in admitting his fault. but you didn’t bring it up because you wanted an apology-

“no, i don’t mind.” you shake your head almost too eagerly before back tracking and clearing your throat, “i mean, it’s true. we’re married - i am your wife.”

the corners of his lips upturns at your last words and he doesn’t bother to hide it as he waits for you to finish - but how can you when he’s looking at you so tenderly like that?

“it’s just - too soon?” you curse yourself for sounding so meek but any louder, your heart might just jump out of your throat.

namjoon nods, that contemplative look settling on his face and takes away that smile only to return it with a dimpled grin. one hand slides in between yours and guiding the back of your hand to his lips.

“we’ll take it slow then.”

you can only nod, afraid that if you tried to speak, you would forget how to. the light rap on your side of the window catches both your attention. it’s the parking management. stealing a glance at the cars that are beginning to queue up behind you, you hurriedly gather your bag and hop out of the car.

cheeks flushed, you barely register waving back at namjoon when he leans over the passenger seat just to shoot you that dimpled smile and a ‘see you at home’.

you turn on your heels. the sharp click bounces against the white walls. a small smile spreads across your lips as you think about namjoon’s words.

yeah, the penthouse does feel like home.

x

this isn’t slow at all. you’re barely progressing.

it feels like everyday is passing by too fast what with the abundance of functions you’ve told namjoon you wanted to go with when you’re not working, to cramming some time for research and trying to find the time to at least make breakfast when you’re not on morning shift. though on some mornings, he’d beat you to breakfast and you’d wake up to the delectable smell of omelette or bacon.

“you must be thrilled about the new hospital, mrs. kim,” mrs. hwan is generally an agreeable woman along with her husband, the president of a small startup firm. they’re the first couple to approach you and namjoon since you arrived at the party. but that’s just it - the smiling, the talking, the eagerness doesn’t show in their eyes. it’s all about building connections while maintaining a good enough acquaintanceship. “are you going to be managing it directly since you’re a doctor yourself?”

“naturally,” the tug on your lips and the smoothness of your response is almost effortless. you’re no stranger to this scene - except back then, you would be standing next to yoongi. though your hand wouldn’t be tucked in his arm like yours is with namjoon. “though i still have a lot to learn, i hope the next two years will help me prepare to for eden.”

two years is the estimated time that eden hospital will be able to run. you’d finish your residency by then. all that’s left is to take the next step. just like your parents had planned for you as they’d planned many things. you never had the power to object.

mrs. hwan goes on to sprinkling empty praises while her husband laughs in deflated humor. they say the way to a successful business deal is through the wife.

once namjoon gets swamped by more people, you gently pull your hand away from his arm. you don’t miss the pleading look he fixes you when he notices your intention but you can only return a ‘you can do it!’ smile and slip away from the limelight.

the balcony area is dark, illuminated only by the fading light the pours over the floor past the door frame. you don’t expect the air to be this chilly at the beginning of summer but then again, namjoon did suggest bringing a coat - you were just too stubborn to because it would ruin the off shoulder look of your dress.

a sneeze escapes you a moment later as you hug yourself in an attempt to retain your body heat. but the warmth that engulfs you seems impossible to have come from just your puny palms - heck, your fingers were starting to feel prickly cold. there’s a sort of weight on your shoulders that wasn’t there before-

“idiot, you’re gonna catch a cold.” yoongi tuts from next to you - he has his hands in his pockets, all donned in crisp white shirt and checkered grey trousers and vest. all that’s missing is a matching blazer - the one that he placed around you just now.

somewhere in the recesses of your memories, you remember him taking off the muffler he had on and wrapping it around your neck when you showed up for your ‘christmas date’ with a pink nose and pinker ears - you could barely feel them. yoongi was that kind of person - the kind that acted like everything is a whole load of inconvenience and yet went to greater length to inconvenient himself for you.

“thanks. i thought i was going to freeze to death if i have to hide out here for another hour.” you tug the thick material of the blazer closer - the warmth of his heat feels just right.

“then you shouldn’t have come in the first place.” he must have noticed the higher-than-an-octave tone he uses before ruffling his hair - it’s the first you’ve ever seen him so unsure. is it really because of you?

“it’s fine. besides, what kind of wife would i be if i let namjoon get eaten by the pack of wolves by himself?” you chuckle at the fact that you’d done just that when you escaped the growing crowd of businessmen.

but when you notice the lack of humor on yoongi’s face, your own dies down. he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look. it’s not the bored expression he usually sports - not also the anger from the outburst just now. before you can say anything, namjoon’s lean silhouette appears in the doorway. you can’t see his face but his tone is strained. “we’re leaving, if you’re both done catching up.”

“so soon?” you know for a fact it probably hasn’t even been fifteen minutes - and you’re supposed to linger for at least two hours before leaving. that’d be enough time for namjoon to scout any potential business associate - the worthy ones at least.

“hey little bro.” yoongi waves, the disinterested look now returning but the way he phrases his next words oozes with revulsion. it’s no surprise. while yoongi hates these events - he’s probably here because of naeun, you heard the director of seoul’s annual art exhibition is here - namjoon strives off it. garnering attention and making the best of it by bringing in stockholders. “had enough of ass licking?”

you never understand the tangibility of the tension that feels the air when these two brothers are in the same room together - they’re barely able to remain civil in the presence of mr. and mrs. kim. anywhere without their parents’ watchful eyes, a fight would always be at risk of breaking out. whenever you were around, you’d be the one to interfere, whether it’s to tug on yoongi’s sleeve and tell him you’re hungry, or step in front of him just so he’d remember you’re here or right now-

“thank you, yoongi.” folding the blazer in half, you hand it back to the man - only that he’s not taking it back. momentarily, you wonder if you’d stained it with your lipstick or foundation but the lapels never touched anywhere above your neck. but deep in the crook of your conscience, you know it’s when his mind retracts back to you, to the present.

the sigh that escapes yoongi is a telltale of fatigue - you wonder if this is the first time of the day he came out of his studio. taking the blazer from your outstretched hand, he slings it over his shoulder, “don’t get too caught up with these functions. focus on your goal.”

your goal meaning what comes next in your career: the fellowship. you thought that information was lost on him, buried among the many things you told him just because you were comfortable telling him everything. 

and as you watch him walk back into the lion’s den, you wonder, how didn’t you realize he was in love with someone else during the visits you paid while he was doing his masters and phd?

x

namjoon doesn’t say anything about yoongi in the car. but both his hands are on the wheel. knuckles a little paler from holding onto the wheel.

“you don’t have to be part of eden’s board of directors.” he huffs, as though annoyed but from the way he continues, you know he’s not annoyed at you. he’s annoyed at himself. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to - i don’t want to force anything on you.”

and you know - you know more than anyone how conscious namjoon is of things. from the change in your mood to the people that tries to get close to him because of his status - that’s also why he didn’t kiss you on your lips that day. but a kiss was the prerequisite of a vow so he kissed you on the forehead. the area where his lips landed burns your skin as your cheeks flush from the memory.

“i know.” you hesitate for a heartbeat but reach out to cover one of his hands on the wheel still. to let him know that you’re not just saying that to ease the guilt.

when you pull away from the thought of how risky and distracting what you did was, the hand that you were lightly caressing pulls at yours, intertwining your fingers as he keeps them on his thigh. your entire body burns from the contact yet you’re sitting frozen in your spot. it’s the gentle squeeze on your hand that brings you out of your shell-shock state. a smile tugs on your lips subconsciously as you squeeze back.

x

the following week, you almost got into a fight with namjoon when he caught you dressing up prettily. he told you it was okay not to attend these functions anymore - the ones your tight schedule barely allow you to. fight was an overstatement. your feelings were hurt when he’d kissed your temple and said, “it’s okay, you don’t have to push yourself.”

well, you were but he wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. “can’t you see? i wanna spend more time with you and the only way i can is if we attend these functions together.”

in hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have thrown your strapless black diamond purse at him out of frustration.

but the following functions, you did spend more time together. he’d declined the usual advancement of business people the way only kim namjoon could pull off - with a dimpled smile and a hand around your waist as if to indicate that they were interrupting - and they were. they’d come up to the both of you while you were telling namjoon about a new skillet spaghetti recipe you’d wanted to try making for the long overdue dinner you owe him. and you’d expected someone to approach namjoon and take his attention away but you didn’t think he’d decline them.

“hm? i don’t think we have tomatoes or beef. should we go grocery shopping?” he suggests calmly as though he didn’t just turn down the chairman of tvn broadcast. the man had to do a double take in case he had mistaken namjoon’s smooth rejection.

you place a hand on his chest, restraining the urge to pull your hand away as if you’ve touched fire. you knew he goes to the gym for an hour after work and his shirts always seem a size too small around his arms but you didn’t expect anything beyond that underneath that shirt of his. you clear your throat when you realize his neck is craned so he could look at you - give you all the attention in the world, “you know, we can discuss dinner some other time - when you’re free.”

but neither of you are free. you barely see each other at home because of your unpredictable schedule and his that’s set in stone.

“then what would you rather us talk about right now?” a corner of his lips tugs upwards. if you first met him, you wouldn’t easily dismiss the smile as nothing more than because of his amiable nature. but you’ve been married for almost five months now and you clearly pick up on the playfulness that lights up his eyes.

“the desserts.” you announce too quickly in an attempt to avert his attention from what he’s thinking - one thing you’ve realized is that namjoon is painfully aware of your blushing fits and your avoidance to look him in the eyes. “they’re nice, aren’t they?”

all of a sudden, he’s scooping a forkful of the chocolate souffle he’d picked up from the desserts section while you’d opted for the luscious almond torte. a small smirk tugs on his lips as he holds the fork to your mouth the way he does during breakfast. he knows you have no objections of being fed like a child but he also knows where you stand with public display of affection.

“say ‘aaaaa’ and i’ll give you a treat, doctor ___.” and he loves to tease you. he’s taken to calling you that because of that one incident where he’d seen you discuss about a patient with one of the nurses while you were on your way to meet him. in his own words, he’d ‘never seen you this scary before.’

in your defense, it was five minutes till lunch break so it was still working hours and you were acting the way you usually did at work - but you’d understand. the person you are with friends and the person you are at work are two separate entities. suppose you’ve mastered separating personal business and work. namjoon seems to take pleasure in making that steadfast side of you squirm and blush like a tomato.

your fingerpads gently grazes the back of his hand as you hold the fork in place before taking it in your mouth. your eyes flit over namjoon’s for the briefest moment before taking a step back, licking the residue of souffle off your lips.

“they really are nice.” you murmur as you throw your gaze at the stage where a man sits at the piano before flickering back to namjoon.

you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden -

the man in question still has the empty fork in the air, eyes wide and staring at you, you would’ve thought he’d seen a ghost. until you notice the dust of pink across his cheek and spread to the tip of his ears.

oh?

x

mrs. kim’s fundraiser is held at the school where the children attended. about four canopies were set up on the field. one for the children’s activities - you remember reading something about coloring, origami-making and storybook reading.  the volunteers - possibly college students hoping to earn the graces of kimcorp’s president’s wife for an internship - already have the children huddled up in groups of three or four.

one canopy is specifically set up for a table of wide range of food - if there’s anything you like about these functions, it’s the abundance of food they never fail to prepare. as if spending a lot of money on a fundraising event is something to flex about.

the other two canopies are for the people of interest - acquaintances of mrs. kim and those who come with an ulterior motive be it to get sponsors for their own project, a business deal or simply to regain a higher social hierarchy by falling into your mother-in-law’s graces.

you press a light kiss on namjoon’s cheek before he’s whisked away by the second category. business men who jump at the sight of your ceo husband who got a fair warning from mrs. kim to “play nice. what’s gotten into you all of a sudden? these days i keep hearing things about you turning chairmen down! your father didn’t work this hard just to raise a stuck up son that could ruin his business in a matter of days.”

once you’ve had a slice of red velvet and tiny macaroons, you decide to hide yourself from the few people who try to do the same to you when namjoon is too preoccupied by the ones who claimed his attention first. just like preys on the top of the pyramid sinking its claws, the lower level preys couldn’t come close.

but one manages to follow you into one of the classrooms.

“nothing’s changed has it?’ yoongi stands in the doorway, tuxedo and brown loafers and all. hands tucked into both his pockets, he strides across the room and stops in front of the window that overlooks the light pink canopies and the people underneath them. “same old assholes using a charitable cause to proliferate their influence.”

the muscles on your face pulls your lips into a disapproving frown, “that’s how our parents manage to give us an education. a good life.” you don’t agree to the way they go about it but you give credit where it’s due.

yoongi scoffs, his shoulders jolting slightly. you can’t see his face as he stands with his back on you but you know he’s smirking that condescending smirk. the first time you saw it was when you were in your senior year of high school and yoongi was doing his masters in business and accounting. he’d looked down on the man who approached the two of you like he was scum just because everyone knew his company was wallowing in debt and he’s desperate enough to ask the lion who hates the jungle for help.

“always finding a middle ground. if you like what they do so much, why did you become a doctor? why didn’t you follow their footsteps, huh?”

you can’t help but let out a tired sigh. you’ve been here before. you’ve seen this. yoongi hates the world he’s born in and you understand why but you can never feel what he feels. “why are you here, yoongi? shouldn’t you be with naeun?” there’s a pause. a heartbeat before you decide to let yourself free. say what you want to say. “before the wolves get to her.”

“she’s fine.” it's almost offensive how haughty he sounds. he must either be aware of nauen’s innocence that makes the wolves eliminate the possibility of her being a threat or he just doesn’t care. the latter presumption makes your stomach churn.

did he also not care about you when you were together? when you went to these events as a couple?

“we should head back. it would be bad if anyone saw us alone like this even though we’re just talking.” and that’s that. you turn on your heels, making way to the door but before you can even take another step forward, lithe fingers wrap around your wrist.

“what?” it comes out harsher than you intend it. funny how you put on a face of a woman made out of steel when your knees can barely hold your weight the moment you feel his warm hand on your skin.

“i knew - i knew but i didn’t want to tie you down.” with his head lowered and his long hair, you can’t see his eyes for an idea of what he’s saying. 

“yoongi, what-”

“i knew how you felt.” at that moment, his grip on you loosens. it’s almost as though it’s an overdue confession and the weight on his shoulders has finally lifted, “you only knew me - you turned down every boy that tried to ask you out in high school and college. you -you were only looking at me and i didn’t want that on my shoulders - i didn’t want you to turn down every opportunity to life - to dating, to heart break to - to sex with someone - several someone’s just because we were engaged.”

his fingers traces down your index finger before falling away. but you won’t tell him - you can never do it to namjoon - that it took all of you not to twine your fingers with his just because it felt like he was letting go.

your breath hitches in your throat when you turn your cheek towards him. the sight before you is something you’d never thought you’d see in your entire life. yoongi’s pink dusts his otherwise snowflake skin. the bored expression he usually wears is gone - almost as if he’s never worn it his entire life as something akin to desperation pools in those dark eyes. his soft pink lips are agape as though he wants to say something. and you wait, wait, wait but he never does.

so you turn your back on him, heels clicking against the ground as you slip past the door without a word. only when you’re at the end of the hallway, do you turn the corner, back pressed against the wall because your buckling legs might not be able to handle your weight.

those unsaid words - you can hear them clearly: i fucking regret letting you go.

x

the following week, you spend by drowning yourself in work and later working on your research until the library closes. by the time you’re pressing the 20th floor to the penthouse you both shared, you know for certain namjoon’s gone to bed. he values his sleep time. says it’s essential to keep himself in a good mood so others who work with him would be at ease. sometimes you want to tell him it’s okay not to think about others for once but the words lay buried the depth of your heart because you’re exactly like him. suppressing your feelings, smiling and saying you’re okay even though you’re not. the only difference is there’s a side of you that wants to lash out, do something worse to those who hurt you while namjoon does it from the good of his heart.

“it’s hard, being nice.” he says in between the clink of the stirring of the spoon in his coffee mug.

you look up from the peanut butter you’re spreading over your toast. “hm?”

he shakes his head, as if to say it’s nothing, i’m just thinking out loud. but the words he says next is enough to make your heart drop right to the ground. “yoongi told me.”

“wh-what?” it’s denial in your tone - the combination of those three words are simple enough to take you back to the school nine days ago. in side that little classroom.

“yesterday. he came over to the office.” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal but the tensed line of his shoulders is apparent no matter how casually he brings the mug to his smiling lips - that too. his lips are smiling but his eyes are not.

you don’t know when or how you started noticing the little things. sensing namjoon’s moods - his reactions and his retractions. you never realized you were so in tune with the things he does. all you realize is you’re already able to read him like a book - thick, best-leather book that was safeguarded by a lock.

“namjoon,” the clink of the butter knife being set on your plate resonates like a pin drop in a vacuum room, “nothing happened. i promise.”

“i know - i know you’d never do anything like that so that’s why i’m telling you it’s okay.” something in the way he looks at you make you bite your tongue - as if he’s asking you to listen even though you’re bursting at the seams. you’d do anything to prove that nothing happened even though you knew he knew. “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

he chuckles but it’s strained and tense, dumping the coffee into the sink because he couldn’t bear to stay in the kitchen any longer. you slip out of the high stool, feet padding around the counter and before you know it, your arms around his body. you feel him freeze under your touch and this is wrong - wrong on so many levels because he would have asked if he could touch you and you’re not reflecting the same amount of respect he had for you.

but for some reason, you can’t let go - you’re afraid if you let him walk out of the door, you’d never be able to grasp even a shadow of his existence.

“i don’t want to.” the words are muffled from your cheek pressing against his back.

a pause lapses between you when you don’t say anything else. no explanation. no reason. because you don’t know it yourself. you don’t know why your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of namjoon’s dismal smile. you don’t know why you acted on your instincts and hugged the man.

you don’t know.

“okay.” he sighs softly as a warm palm rests above your fisted hand. you wish you can see him - wish you can see what kind of expression he’s making because it’s killing you to not know what he’s thinking. “you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

that’s when the sniffle escapes you. internally, you curse yourself for being so emotion-driven. it’s not a good trait for a doctor to have.

namjoon calls your name. the syllabus rolling off his tongue makes your stomach churn with butterflies. “are you crying?”

you don’t expect him to say that. don’t expect the teasing undertone either. naturally, your respond comes a heartbeat later, “n-no.”

the body under your touch shifts. all of a sudden, you’re eye-to-eye with him. there’s a sparkle in them that almost makes you forget how to breathe. his dimples dig into his cheek as his lips curl into a smile whilst his large hands frames you face.

“wh-what?” you feel your brows furrowing, lips pursed.

“you’re too cute.” his thumb grazes your burning cheekbone feather light, “i want to kiss you.”

“then do it.” you don’t know the reason behind that angry, pressed tone but namjoon doesn’t seem to mind - or he knows something you don’t.

you don’t have the time to ponder on that when a pair of lush lips meshes with yours. the scent of the coffee he had engulfs your senses as one hand finds its way to the back of his neck and the other rests on his accelerating heartbeat. time seems to stop when namjoon’s kissing you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctly remember something perpetually important but you couldn’t be bothered as his hands fall away from your face and finds the dip of your lower back and pull you closer until your bodies are pressed together.

somewhere in a distant, you hear the beep of the front door. hoseok’s voice booming across the hallway that leads to the living room and the kitchen where you’re at now.

“namjoon? you here? did you oversleep? man, i never thought i’d see the day our ceo is late to work.” hoseok’s footsteps stops at the end of the hallway, “oh great, you’re all dressed.”

he blinks, surprised at the sight of his boss who’s leaning against the edge of the sink - hands pressed on either side of the edge, doing absolutely nothing while you dip a butter knife into a jar of peanut butter and jelly but equally as out-of-it as his boss appear to be.

“y-yeah, let me grab my blazer.” namjoon pushes himself off, going around the counter and heading towards the stairs where his bedroom is until -

“it’s here.” hoseok points out.

“what?”

“your blazer. it’s this one, right?” the secretary loyally scoops up the thick maroon blazer off the couch and hands it to his boss who’s just barely recovered from what seems to be a trance. 

he’d went down and tossed the blazer on the couch before making his coffee - before the kiss.

namjoon clears his throat, refusing to look at the man’s scrutinizing eyes as he thanks him and slips the blazer on. but he loses those eyes when he peeks over the man’s shoulder, mini-waving at you, “hey, morning, doc.”

you return the greeting, refraining a blush as you feel the ghost of namjoon’s lips when you fix his secretary a smile, “hey, hoseok. care to join us for breakfast?”

the man shrugs, eyes flitting over his boss who now seems ready to go, “thanks doc but i had some cereal and cold milk.”

he bids his farewell and escapes out of where he came from, letting the two of do what newly weds do before the other goes to work. it’s in that moment that he realizes with a chill running down his spine as he sat in the driver seat - that namjoon isn’t a bachelor anymore and he couldn’t come and go as he pleases and that he might have interrupted something. come to think of it, both you and namjoon’s cheeks were flushed...

“h-hey boss,” hoseok steals a glance of the man at the backseat through the rear view mirror. he almost chokes on his next words when the man’s eyes meet him but he persists like a man on a mission to not get fired , “y-you know, i’ve been with kimcorp. f-for a long time. i-it’s like my family a-and i’ll work harder from now on.”

confusion flashes across namjoon’s features for the briefest moment. he doesn’t know what makes hoseok say something so out of his character and shakily at that but it’s not the first time that his employee’s said something like this to him - of course, minus the stutter and all.

“that’s good to know, hoseok.” he says simply.

x

it’s been a week since you told namjoon you didn’t - wouldn’t see anyone. yoongi or not. when you told him you were going to meet yoongi at a cafe near his studio to give the man an answer - a hard no, there’s still some needling doubt in namjoon’s gaze as he reverts his eyes away from you. as though he was afraid that the illusion would fade away and he’d end up catching the smolder of passion he’d always seen you look at the man with.

he’s not lost to your feelings - in hindsight, it was pathetically obvious how smitten you were for the elder man. even your and his parents could see. and they’d foreseen many things but not having to plead and then beg and then finally, force you into a marriage you didn’t want with the brother of the man you loved.

your only regret was leaving without kissing namjoon goodbye - but it also felt like anything you said, any sort of assurance you offered would just be an act. until you tell his brother to stop.

“come to think of it,” you set the warm cup of latte down. it would have tasted better if the circumstances were different, “we never properly ended things. the only way i knew the engagement was over was through mom and dad.” his parents you meant.

he tilts his head to the side as a response - an indication that he’s listening. he’s dressed in plain white shirt and the darkest jeans. the bags under his eyes is an indication that he hasn’t slept in days - either it’s because of working late nights trying to make music or because of what he’d said to you.

you know he’d do this - detach himself from reality when things gets tough or when he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t have control over. but you still had hope. still held onto the past seven years you’d spent together for him to regard you with enough respect to offer closure.

“do you love naeun that much?” and yet you still ask.

you meet his hollow gaze, not knowing the intensity yours hold until your fingerpads wrapped around aches and he lets out a heavy breath.

“she was different.” he says simply - almost tiredly, “she caught my eyes. we started talking and we found out we had some things in common. i thought she’s what i needed to get over you.”

“don’t.” the churning starts from your stomach and spreads across your body like a poisonous fog. “don’t use me as an excuse for leaving. you loved me as much as i loved you and you got scared.”

a lump forms in your throat as the memories, the inside jokes that built up over time, the comfortable silents spent - everything comes crashing in like tidal wave. you knew he loved you deep down. that was why the news of him getting married took a toll on you - so much so, you decided to leave everything behind and fly to paris.

“you could’ve pushed me away if you truly had no feelings for me but you kept me around and let me think we were going to have a happy future together.” his image is distorted from the prickles of tears in your eyes but you blink them away, “but you didn’t really know you were in love with me back then, huh? that’s why you got scared shitless and decided to leave.” you’re not sure if you’re choking on your words or if you’re actually scoffing. maybe both.

in that moment, you watch as yoongi’s expression switches from that signature boredom to realization and finally unbridled sorrow. he must feel suffocated - like he’s drowning in emotions the way you did in that suite you spent for two weeks in paris before you decided to buy an apartment and stay for good. and you would have if your parents didn’t call you back - recounted all their sacrifices for you to make you guilty enough to agree to the marriage with his younger brother. he’ll spend the same amount of time sleeping and waking up in his room and realizing he can’t turn back time.

“i fucked up big time, didn’t i?” he laughs dryly as he presses his palm to his face, hunched over the minute round table.

the latte is still half-full when you swipe your phone off the table and stand up. he doesn’t spare you a glance - he probably couldn’t bring himself to face you now.

‘you’re a fucking coward min yoongi.’ is what you want to say but for some reason, you leave the words to die on the tip of your tongue. you won’t - can’t wish him a happy life and propose to put everything past you. it’s not that simple and you’re not that forgiving. but namjoon’s easy smile flashes at the back of your head at this moment of all time and makes your heart clench painfully in your chest. their relationship is already strained and if you insist on prolonging this, it’s only going to end up hurting namjoon one way or another and the cycle will just keep going on with naeun getting hurt if she found out.

“you did.” your hand is trembling around the strap of your bag, “but it’s all in the past and i don’t blame you. things wouldn’t turn out the way they do otherwise. so just... live for the present, yoongi.”

his shoulders rise and fall a little faster than normal but there’s nothing you can do - and it’s better if you leave him to collect his thoughts. the censor at the door beeps as you pass through. it takes a moment for you to feel the morning air brush your cheeks and sunlight to seep into you. your chest still feels tight but in due time, you know it���ll lighten.

x

“hey, boss. you have a special guest.” hoseok peeks into namjoon’s office like the slyboots he is. the wiggle of the man’s brows before he disappears gives namjoon all the more reason to prepare for the worse.

“send them in.” he sighs, not bothering to hide his feelings in front of hoseok. they’ve been working side by side for a long time and friends for longer he knows his friend is aware of the contrasting definition of ‘special’ but this once, as he sees you walk through the door - he admits that him and hoseok may finally be of the same mind.

namjoon shoots up from his seat, clearing his throat and buttoning his blazer together the way he’s so used to doing it when he receives an unannounced visit from his father. “what brings you here?”

instead of shooting him one of your brilliant smiles, you drop your bag on the crisp white leather couch and run right into him. arms wrapped around his torso, he can smell your favorite floral shampoo from your hair but he can’t bring himself to hug you back. his heart is palpitating inside his chest and he can only pray for some miracle that you can’t hear it. which is most unlikely what with your head coming up just a few centimeters above his shoulder line and your ears being the same height as the beating organ in his chest.

if you notice, you're not saying anything about it.

“i met yoongi just now.”

namjoon doesn’t say a word for the longest time - it’s so namjoon of him not to. but it’s also not where you stand now. that day, when you partially admitted to liking namjoon and you’re pretty sure he felt the same - you’d seen a side of namjoon you never thought you’d saw. vulnerable. fearful. all because he thought he was going to lose you - and it felt like he’s always been prepared for it. it was just a matter of time.

the muscles in your arms contracts at the thought of namjoon being so ready to let you go - is it like that too, right now? is he expecting you to go back on your words and tell him you’re going to have an affair with his brother? you don’t know and that’s driving you insane. 

and just when the muscles in your arm contract, just when you’re about to pull away, namjoon’s arms band around your body and a kiss lands on top of your head.

“did you tell him what you wanted to tell him all this time?” his voice is velvet and smooth and you can hear that easy smile as he speaks.

you nod against his chest. “it’s over. i told him to get lost.”

the chest vibrates against your cheek as rings of chuckles tumble out of namjoon’s mouth. it makes your body light up with a sort of fire. and for once, you welcome the heat spreading across your cheeks like an old friend.

he knows the last part is a bluff - it’s comforting that he knows without having you say it.

does he also know...

“after that i came here because i wanted to see you.” you crane your neck to look up at him.

true enough there’s that smile and gets wider when he meets your gaze. a hand comes to rest on your neck while his thumb grazes your chin as he presses his lips to yours. you think your heart might explode at any moment now as you kiss him back, your hand snaking to his shoulder but he stops your right hand, holding it on his chest. his heart beats the same rhythm as yours. his shoulder line heaving the same way yours do when the back of your thighs hit the couch and you finally break apart. but before you have the chance to gather your thoughts, his lips are on you again. the hand on your lower back pulling you closer until your thighs press on either side of his legs.

“let’s go home now.” he murmurs between breaths, “i might really go crazy if i touch another part of your body that’s covered in clothing.”

it’s in that moment that the door swings open.

x

hoseok bursts through the door with the photostatted files in his hand. there’s a skip in his step.

“hey boss! here’s the files you asked for.”

he looks between you - well your back - and namjoon. the ceo is fixing his tie with a hard expression while you’re standing facing the ceiling-to-floor window that overlooks the streets and several stores in the area.

d-did he just walk into you two fighting?

“thanks, hoseok.” namjoon swipes the files from his hand, walking back to his seat around the desk and dropping the files with a sharp pap!

“n-no problem boss.” he takes one frightened step backwards before turning around but before he manages to escape the lion’s den, you stop him.

“hoseok wait.” it comes out a bit rushed. granted, you’re not in any position to waste time. you dropped by even though you know you can’t afford being late to work but somehow you ended up at namjoon’s office anyway. the secretary seems to physically turn into a rock before shakily turn his cheek to you with a smile.

“uh, yeah doc?”

“namjoon, do you mind me borrowing hoseok for a bit?” the heat comes on full force as you turn to namjoon. he’s burning a hole through the files he’s flipping through but you don’t miss the pinked tips of his ears and the way his adam’s apple bobs at the sound of his name on your tongue, “my shift is starting at noon so i need to be there by,” you check the watch on your wrist, “now.”

the way namjoon doesn’t even look up from flipping the papers is how hoseok know for sure you’re fighting. “sure thing. oh and hoseok, no detours. come straight back once you drop ___ off.”

but to you, it’s because he’s flustered beyond imagination - you know, like you know how he’ll condemn himself for not being able to control himself like that. your whole body heats up as you slip into the back seat when the image of namjoon’s hooded eyes, reddened cheeks and half agape lips flash at the back of his mind. a part of you - the reasonable one - chides yourself for even thinking about ditching work and actually going home with him but another part wishes to indulge in the endless possibilities of what will happen if you did.

x

“____,” your name tumbles out of namjoon’s mouth in a breathy huff. naturally so. he hasn’t even caught his breath from when he finds you crawling over him like a woman in on a mission. now, the same exact woman his cuffing his wrists and holding them over his head with one hand while the other is undoing the buttons of his shirt while she kisses him in all the right places.

“wh-where did you even get cuffs?” his headboard is one of those pristine white cushioned ones meaning there isn’t any rails for you to hook him on and keep him in place. but you don’t need that because namjoon can barely move - all that time he spends at the gym has gone down the drain as invisible threads tie him down.

“oh these?” you let one corner of your lips tug deviously. it’s been six months since you got married and you and namjoon has never gone past the occasional cuddles and light kisses. the morning after that day when you dropped by his office after meeting yoongi, namjoon had declared his intentions to ‘do it right’ - like dates and getting to know each other better before anything else. 

it was sweet of him. until you realized you barely had time for dates - only late night conversations that ended up with you on top of him but before things could progress, he’d do everything he could to avoid bedroom affairs. but over time, it gets a bit discouraging. so this is the last straw - there’s no wine or champagne for him to use as an excuse to carry you to your room. you’re both sober, and if he doesn’t want you -

“never mind where i got these.” the low sound emitting from his throat makes your heart skip a beat as your lips brush against the shell of his ear, “don’t you want me, namjoon?”

trailing hisses down his smooth jawline, you let your lips hover over his - it only lasts for a heartbeat before he closes the distance and starts kisses you like a famine beast.

“i want you,” he confesses when you pull away just to reinforce your control. he may be the one lying down with his hands bound but it almost felt like you’re the hopeless one here - almost. the  a feral glint in his eyes sends hot waves down your core - you have to tell yourself to breathe. “of course i fucking want you ___.”

you hum in contemplation - taking just enough time to sit straighter and let your fingers undo the rest of the buttons and stopping just above his belt. the few times you laid together and he lets you lie on top of him - you knew he was brains and brawn. but you didn’t expect a perfectly sculpted body of adonis himself to be lying beneath you. the ridges of his abs heaves helplessly as he drawn in deep breaths. 

somewhere on the edge of the bed where you’d tossed it, your phone vibrates - someone’s calling but that can wait.

you lean down, soft tresses brushing his skin as you kiss that spot that illicit a delicious sound from him the first time you discovered it. somewhere in the junction between his shoulder and neck.

“fuck.” his voice is raw and desperate and carnal as his body yearns for you. his legs bent at the knees, feet ground into the bed as he grinds his hip into you - the signs of his arousal painfully obvious.

you can’t help but giggle at the way he so vehemently yearn for you. somewhere on the bed, your phone starts vibrating again.

“y-your phone.” he manages to stammer out. it’s the third time it’s vibrating.

“don’t worry about it. the only people who would call me at this time is jisoo’s drunken butt dial or the hospital-” you sit back up, heat still pooling in your stomach when your hips grind against namjoon’s arousal in the process but the urgency in the way you swipe your phone off the sheets has stolen your attention.

clear as day, it is one of the two possibilities you’ve mentioned and it isn’t your quirky colleague.

x

when you first started working, you were of the ripe age and eager to help those in need. you loved your job despite the long arduous hours, missed meals and ungodly hour roll calls because at the end of the day, it was what you wanted to do - it was the one thing you wouldn’t let your parents take away from you. you fought blood sweat and tears to get where you are now.

and doctors don’t usually start a family until they’ve at least finished their residency - but you had to get married early to keep your end of the bargain. of course, you didn’t expect to commit to said marriage. you didn’t also expect to fall for namjoon either. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to still be here in the waiting area when you walked out of the emergency operating room, head lulling to the side as sleep begins to take him, arms crossed over his chest. he didn’t even get the chance to change when you hurriedly uncoffed him, informing him about an emergency at the er. he’d offered to drive you since you couldn’t drive and waiting for an uber driver to accept your request this late at night would take more time. you’d rushed out of the car with a ‘thanks, namjoon. i owe you one!’ thinking he’d go home and get some rest - there’s no telling how long these surgeries take after all.

when he leans too far to the side, his eyes flutter open softly before noticing the turquoise-clad body in his periphery.

“___, you’re done? did the surgery go alright?” he’s always had a way of saying your name. it makes your heart warm and your chest full as he stands up to close the distance between you - to cup one side of your cheek with his hand. though your delayed response may have been the reason for that.

“the surgery was a success.” you finally say, your smaller hand covering his, lips curving softly. guilt creeps up the creeks of your chest but gratitude washes it away. it wouldn’t have been very namjoon of him if he didn’t consider everything: how you’d go home once you’re done. if there’s even any uber working this late of an hour. your heart is swelling - you don’t think you can ever love him more than you do now but namjoon being namjoon, he’ll make you fall in love with him more and more until your heart is filled to the brim, “thank you, namjoon.”

and he gets it. just like that. the words that you’re saying without putting them into words because there are many ways to say it and a plethora of intrepreting it but namjoon gets it because his heart beats the same rhythm as you: i love you.

a dimpled smile curls over his lips as he places a kiss over your forehead, “should we go home?” he leans down to whisper into your ears, his tone changing dangerously, “and pick up where we left off, yeah doc?”

[yemilnisu]

FIRST LOVE PT.2

Synopsis: bumping in to your ex at a dark alley right when you just got back in town. is this a sign from the universe for him to get back to you?

Pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff if you squint hard enough

Word Count: 2.4K

「part 1」

nisu entries:

since y’all asked for part 2 here you go! i would like to thank @iis4d for helping me make this and for the plot. i added few more details to it. and i would like to say that you’re one of the sweetest person i met here🥺♥️ i really enjoyed making this so I hope you guys will too!

“How many times have I told you to stay the hell away from her,” someone growled then you heard a loud thud followed by a noise that sounded like someone is being punched countless of times.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything but curiosity got over and you walked through the alley where you think you heard the commotion happening. Your eyes widen as a group of men was beating up another person.

You looked around and when you saw two cops patrolling you hurriedly made your way to them. You explained to them what you saw and they quickly ran to the alley.

The group of men ran away when they heard the cops approaching and the cops ran after them, leaving you and the guy they were beating up earlier. “Oh my, God. Are you alrig- Kei?!”

You were taken aback from this unexpected occurrence of you suddenly bumping in to your ex, when you literally just got back in town. It has been more than 4 years since the both of you met and it was the day when you broke up. You haven’t been in contact with each other since then.

“Y/N?” Tsukishima exclaimed but it was more like a soft gasped because he was badly injured. You quickly helped him get up and without saying a word you put his arm around your shoulder and held his waist, so you could carry him out of that dark alley. When the both you you walked out of the alley, you called a cab.

Tsukishima just obliged due to the fact that he was beaten up and can’t complain nor make a salty remark. “To the nearest hospital,” you pleaded as you pulled out your handkerchief to wipe away the dirt and blood that was on Tsukishima’s face. He flinched at the sudden contact. “Sorry,” you lisped. You continued to wipe his face but more gentle this time.

While you were so focused on wiping his face clean. Tsukishima scanned your expression. Your eyebrows were a little furrowed as you were so concentrated on what you were doing. Your eyes reflected the streets’ lights, it looked like it were shining and it was so mesmerizing to look at. Nor he or you notice how long he was staring deeply into your eyes. For a moment, he felt his heart skip a beat.

Tsukishima glanced at the door, where you were standing and talking to the doctor who treated him earlier. He surveyed you from head-to-toe, there was this aura surrounding you. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it but he knows there was something new to you.

Is it because he haven’t seen or heard from you in a really long time.? Your style of clothing improved, not that he disliked the old one. You were more confident. He could see it from the way you stand, the way you talk and the way you walk, you were stunning as ever.

His eyes quickly avoided your direction when he saw that you were coming back inside the room. You approached him and asked, “how are you feeling now?” a worried expression was painted all over your face.

“I’m feeling fine, never been better,” given to his situation he still managed to sneak in a sarcastic comment.

“Kei,” you sternly stated. The way his name came out of your mouth, sends shivers down his spine. He forgot how serious you could get that sometimes even himself was a little frightened of you, but he would never admit it to himself.

“Besides the fact that I’m in a hospital bed and my face is all beaten up, I think I’m fine,” he sighed.

“Why would you let yourself get beaten up like this? And more importantly why did they do this to you?” you scowled. You were frustrated on why Tsukishima didn’t fight back. After a few seconds of silence, you figured that he doesn’t want to talk about it. “Uh, it’s okay you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just lost in my thoughts,” he trailed off. You seated on the couch beside the hospital bed as he was getting ready to tell you what happened. He huffed, “remember that girl I... the reason why we broke up?” He mentally face palmed himself. Why didn’t he think twice before telling you what happened. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. He guessed that there no turning back now.

There was this awkward atmosphere all over the room. But you still managed to let out a hum for him to continue what he was saying.

“She ghosted me like no phone call, no text message no nothing. She was gone just like that. After a week, I heard a rumor that she got back with her ex. Those dudes earlier was his ex and his friends. All I wanted was an explanation. How could she left me like that? She didn’t even say goodbye or break us off. I was going to let her go, I just wanted the answer to my questions.,” he explained. You could hear sadness and frustration in his tone.

Your gaze softened as you stare at him. All he wanted from the girl was closure but in return he got ghosted and even more worse he got beaten up. You noticed a tear escaped his eyes but he quickly turned his back on you and wiped it away.

You felt bad. You know that he doesn’t deserve this, no one deserves to go through this kind of situation. He deserves to be happy, even though he broke up with you. He just wanted to be happy, to find light into this dark and cruel world. You wanted to help him and you will.

“Kei,” you softly called out. “Um I’ll give you some space,” you excused yourself and walked out of the room. You thought that this is the best thing he needs, space. So he can clear the things that’s on his mind.

You stayed at the hospital that night. You were also the one who took care of him while he was there. You know how hard his situation is, so you thought that this is the least you could do for him. Even though you guys broken up years ago, he was still someone very special to you.

“Kei, where are you going? You just got out of the hospital,” Tsukishima’s brother, Akiteru reminded as his stubborn little brother was putting his shoes on.

“I’m going to see Y/N,” he answered. “I’m gonna thank her for taking care of me and pay her back for the hospital bills,” he pondered as he closed the door behind him not even giving his brother a chance to reply.

He wanted to thank you for your kindness and consideration. You were there when he was at his darkest times. When he thought no one could pull him out of that heartbreak, but there you were, stretching your arm to help him get out of it and once again brought light into his life.

You stayed with him for the whole time he was there. You bought him food, you even baked him his favorite strawberry shortcake and everything that he needs. You were even the one who paid for his hospital bills and he felt so embarrassed that you paid for it, that’s why he wanted to see you to pay you back and maybe that’s not the only reason on why he wanted to see you again.

It was selfish but he wanted you back. He regretted ever leaving such a kind hearted person like you. He wanted another chance, another chance for the both of you. And this time he’ll make sure he will stay ‘till the end. He’ll make sure to never leave you again, to never hurt you.

He saw a U-haul parked in front of your house. His heart fluttered, does this mean your moving back here? Is this fate finally turning into his side? Is this fate telling him to shoot his shot again? That there’s still hope for the both of you?

“Y/N!” he called out when he noticed your small figure standing on the sidewalk.

“Oh, Kei! I forgot that you’ll be discharged today,” you divulged. “Sorry I didn’t help you pack up. I was a little occupied today.”

“No no. It’s fine. You already done so much,” he checked out the truck. “Are you moving back here?” he asked, trying not to sound too excited or intrigued.

You also took a glimpse of the U-haul truck behind you. “No. It’s quite the opposite...” Tsukishima was confused if you’re not moving back here and there’s a U-haul truck in front of your house, does that mean. “I’m actually moving out,” you declared.

“What?” He mused.

“There was so much going on that I forgot to mention it when we were at the hospital. But yeah, the reason why I’m back here is because I’m permanently moving out to live with my fiancé in Tokyo,” you happily announced as you reminisce when a guy was on bended knee in front of you holding a velvet box with a beautiful ring inside it.

“Huh? I mean, you have a fiancé? It’s just that- I didn’t notice you wearing a ring for the past few days,” he blurted out. Maybe you were just pranking him. You were quite a prankster when the two of you were still dating.

“Yeah, because he bought the wrong size and it needed to be adjusted since it’s a little big for my finger,” you laughed. You showed him your hand to show a beautiful diamond engagement ring on your ring finger.

He gawked at the ring as his plans came crushing down on him. His plan to get back with you, to treat you right this time.

That’s when it hit him, his plan was so one-sided. He made a plan not knowing what was going on with your life or how far you have become. He didn’t even ask if you were dating someone or not. He made a plan only thinking about his opinion.

This was the problem back then, he would only think about himself, about what would make him happy. That’s why he broke up with you because he thought he’ll be happier with that girl.

He wasn’t contented with the happiness you were giving him since you were always away. He was blinded by the amount of attention the girl gave him, the attention he craved from you. Since the girl was there for him who he thought that she will always be there but she only used him to get over her ex. In which she obviously did not ‘cause she crawled back to his ex.

And when he finally understood what happiness feels like, his happiness already found its own happiness, you already found someone else.

You didn’t mention anything to him because you were busy consoling him out of his break up. And you thought it’ll be weird to just suddenly say something about your life when he couldn’t even put his life together.

“Ah! There he is! Keiji!” you shrieked as you noticed a guy walking behind Tsukishima. As Akaashi made his way to you, you cling into his arm like a koala. He was your happiness, he was the one who helped you with every struggle you encounter, he was your yellow.

Akaashi smiled at how cute and clingy you were. He kissed your forehead. “Are you ready?”

“Of course! Oh! My parents kept asking where you were or what time you’ll arrive. It feels like they want to see you more than their own daughter!” you pouted.

“They don’t mean to make you feel that way, princess,” he chuckled at how childish you were but he still find it adorable.

“I know,” you giggled. “Oh, babe, you still remember Kei, right?” You stated as you remember the fellow was still standing right in front of the both of you.

Tsukishima painfully watched the whole exchange of how you, his world cling into another man’s arm.

“Of course,” Akaashi turned his gaze to the lad in front of him. “we played in high school, remember?” he smiled and reached out his hand to Tsukishima. In which Tsukishima returned.

Akaashi knew your past with him. He knew how broken you were when your 5 year long boyfriend broke up with you. He was also the one who witnessed you crying alone in the classroom. He stayed by your side ever since.

“Right, hehe. Babe, did you brought it?” you asked.

“I did,” he replied. He pulled something out of his pocket it was a small envelope and you excitedly grabbed it out of his grasp.

You gave it to Tsukishima. He opened it and it was what he expected it to be, a wedding invitation that is a few months away.

“Since we promised to invite each other on our wedding, there you go,” you sweetly smiled.

“Oh,” he forced out a laugh. What a terrible turn of events. It was supposed to be the other way around. He was supposed to be the one giving you an invitation to his wedding, not you. He chortled, “karma is really a bitch.”

“Huh? Did you say something?” you asked.

“I said I’m happy for the both of you and that I’m going to attend your wedding,” he lied. You clapped because you were happy that he was going. You were actually a little worried that he won’t be able to come since you thought he’ll be awkward about it.

You were happy that such a close friend of yours was able to come. Yes, before you guys dated he was the closest to a brother to you but the break up placed a gap between the two of you. Since you thought that he already moved on from your past, you took this chance to become friends with him again, to have closure.

That’s what you thought, but the truth is he never got over you. He would always feel shallow and empty after the break up. It was only covered up by the girl’s attention.

Tsukishima watched as you walked down the aisle, your hands tightly clenched on the white bouquet. He attended your wedding just take a glimpse of you walking down the aisle and wearing a white dress. Even though he wasn’t the one waiting in the altar.

[kireilixie]

i. Bittersweet Vanilla | Bang Chan x Reader

° 𐐪𐑂 synopsis: Have you ever heard of the phrase, “Right person, wrong time?” You and Chan would have made such a perfect couple had your destinies and dreams not gotten in the way. With no assurance of what you each truly felt for one another you both struggle to keep each other grounded among the different obstacles you face.

° 𐐪𐑂 genre: idolverse, angst, childhood friends, pro swimmer! reader

° 𐐪𐑂 warning(s): mentions of abuse, trauma, insomnia, anxiety attacks, depression, death of a family member

° 𐐪𐑂 8k words

° 𐐪𐑂 author's note: Hello! I am extremely sorry that this was published late, but unfortunately, my other priorities in life came up so I had to push back the release and editing. As you know, bittersweet vanilla is a fic I released a year or so ago. This is a fic I hold dear to my heart, and I was a bit disappointed with how I had written it, especially with the multiple plot holes and gaps. This led me to rewrite and expound on the development of both reader and Chan, this fic will hold the same plot as the previous fic but will be much more detailed compared to the original one. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy and show this fic some love!

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Such a simple yet comforting flavor

A few blocks from school, two from your swimming club and one from the street you lived on, was an ice cream parlor. Winter’s Star was a place of comfort for both you and Chan, albeit not being that popular for its remote location. It had begun a small tradition and routine for you both.

Ice cream after swim training had become a norm for you both, despite the strict healthy diet your father had established for your growth as a swimmer. You would both intentionally opt not to take the bus and walk to the parlor as to walk off the calorie intake you’d get from the dessert as to get your father off your case.

Every time you’d visit, Chan would dash in, beaming over the glass in excitement at the variety of flavors, selecting a different flavor for every visit, a stark difference to your simple preference of classic vanilla.

And every visit, Chan would tilt his head and pout in confusion, asking why you’d get that every single visit. And each time you’d reply, “I’m paying, and I like it that’s why.” rolling your eyes as he sighs at your boring nature.

Though one evening, after practice had ended a bit later than usual, you can see him deadpan at the sight of the creamy white of your vanilla ice cream. And though he doesn’t ask, you decide to explain, “I’d simply not want to risk trying something new, and honestly I just like sticking with what I’m comfortable with.” You shrug, popping a spoon of the comforting flavor into your mouth.

Chan doesn’t ponder much at your explanation nor does he reply that day, too exhausted to think of one.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

This routine of yours had begun the summer before middle school. Moving a lot at a young age, Chan had found it difficult to get settled into the new atmosphere, with his distinct features, he barely fit in. Therefore he found himself once again in the corner of his new school’s swim club unsure of how to apply and whom to approach.

His eyes wandered around, observing the different children doing laps and warming up. Swimming was a sport he and his father enjoyed, and it had made his father extremely happy that he had taken enough interest in it to compete in the said sport.

“Oi, newbie, what are you doing here?” The smaller boy flinched at the loud voice, turning towards the source. He sighs, here we go again, the nine-year-old boy thought.

“I c-came t-to a-apply for the swim club.” The boy managed to softly stutter out, eyes downcast, feeling intimidated by the difference in height.

“And at your puny size, ya think ya can swim fast-”

“Oi, why don’t ya shut up Jacob? A big dumb bully like yourself can’t beat me and here you are trying to scare the newbie, being all talk. Why don’t you stop wasting your time picking on new people and spend it practicing and trying to improve your times.” Chan widened his eyes as he turned to the female voice that had interrupted the confrontation.

He was shocked to see a girl around his age, twirling her goggles around her fingers as she approached Jacob, as she had called him, and his crew that currently surrounded the smaller boy.

Jacob, quite flustered with the unknown girl’s statement, attempted to come up with a good comeback but failed to do so as he muttered, “Why’re you butting in L/n, don’t you usually mind your business?” Eyes avoiding yours in the process.

“And so, what if I decide to butt in? Does your ego inflate at hounding the new kid? If it isn’t going to make you swim faster, I suggest you get your butt moving.” The smaller girl scoffed, raising her eyebrow at them, daring them to cross her.” I suggest you all get moving before I call the coach and tell him you’re slacking, wouldn’t want to swim extra laps now?”

Before Chan could even blink, they’re all dashing off into their respective sides of the pool. The transferee chuckled at that, in awe at the confidence the girl carried. She introduced herself, (Y/N) (L/N) he had learned that day, specialized in free, though claimed to be preparing herself for Individual medley.

Chan introduces himself as well, mentioning that he specialized in butterfly. At the revelation, her eyes glowed in excitement as she tugged the smaller boy towards her father.

“Dad! He swims butterfly! He can complete the relay!” Chan observed, fascinated by the complete 180 in her vibe, wherein the confidence and intimidation she had carried earlier, now dissipating to something more suited for a fellow nine-year-old.

She bounces in excitement, tugging at the end of her father’s shirt, to garner his attention. “We can finally have a relay!”

Finishing his conversation on the phone, her father turned towards the pair, raising an eyebrow at her daughter’s excitement. Bending down to their height the older man asked for Chan’s name, to which he replied a soft ‘Christopher Bang’ at this the older man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re that boy that broke the record for the 50 m freestyle swim! Your dad called me earlier to inform me that you had transferred here and wanted to join, fill this up, and (Y/n) here can show you your lockers and the shower rooms to change.”

“Really! What’s your time?! Ugh, I hope it’s not faster than mine.” You had frowned at him, enthusiasm and competitiveness lighting her e/c hues at the revelation of a broken record in her specialty. “Come on, you change, then we race. Loser has to buy ice cream.”

You raced five times and lost all five. It had frustrated you though at the same time had triggered a new type of excitement at the knowledge of someone who would no longer shy away from your competitiveness.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Since your first meeting, Chan had indeed become a huge influence and development in your already hectic life. It had shifted your dynamics and attitude towards the sport you had dedicated your life to since you could walk.

Before meeting Chan, you had little to no drive when it came to training and warmups, accustomed to the fact that no one could come close to you in your age range and category. Though now, with the Korean-Australian around, not only did it shift your energy towards the sport, but something had shifted in your relationship with your father along the road.

Your father was a loving man, dedicated to his daughter and bedridden wife, he had been applauded far and wide for raising such a talented daughter dedicated to a sport he too had once dedicated himself to.

It may have seemed that way to the public. However, during the early stages of your childhood, your mother had been in and out of the hospital, something that your five-year-old self couldn’t have understood nor questioned. Living comfortably with the income your father had as a coach and your mother’s family inheritance, your father had opted to hand you over to nannies and private chauffeurs to ensure that you were busy and occupied.

Among the multiple extracurriculars your father had enrolled you in, you had been six when your interest in swimming had peaked. At the discovery of your interest, it had only been then when your father had decided to become more attentive and present in your childhood.

In awe of how quickly you picked up the technique and the different styles, your father had enthusiastically enrolled you into more classes and going further as to fix your diet around the sport, proudly declaring he would raise an Olympian in his stead.

At the age of seven, he had entered you into your first tournament, there you had gotten gold, and honestly, that didn’t matter. What mattered was the warm embrace your father had given you.

Shortly after the tournament, you had arrived home, surprised to see that there had been more staff present as well as unfamiliar people dressed in pajama-looking attire and some donning a white coat.

Soon your nanny leads you into a room faintly smelling like medicine and cleaning materials, it made your nose sting. Though what caught your eye was the bedridden figure connected to multiple machines next to her, sunken eyes, and ghastly figure, you had not been able to recognize your mother.

Having little to no memories of the woman that had given birth to you, made you blink back tears as she called you, voice frail and raspy “Y/n? Is that you? My how big you’ve grown.”

You had slept in her room that night, the soft beeping of monitors and machines lulling you to sleep as you dreamed of picnics and beach trips had faith decided not to be so cruel.

It was then when you promised yourself to bring your mom more medals if it meant spending more time with her. Each tournament you’d finish, you would run in, carefully avoiding wires and the nurses, beaming in excitement about the race and how good you did.

“Are you happy?” She had said to you one day.

“Of course! I just wish you could come to see me swim.” You smile, understanding bits and pieces of her condition, you had never been that good in science.

“Do you have friends in school? Spend time with them, instead of here with me.” The statement confused you, remembering how your father had ensured that you were picked up from and to, preventing you from having playdates, with the statement that they would be mere distractions to your training.

“No not really, but I like being here with-”

“Y/n, you should be living your childhood alright, can you promise me that, love?” She raises her hand to your cheek, caressing it softly.

“Okay, I will, mom.”

A few days after that conversation, you had met Chan, a boy who would, later, be your north star.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Chan was never careless, especially when it came to things like equipment and his stuff in general, he was always so thorough when it came to packing, so it was rare to see him coming back to school to get something he had forgotten.

What he also hadn’t expected was to see you here as well, fully knowing that your father had a private pool in his residence used not only to train you but as well his private students.

“You had been getting too comfortable, look at your weight, look at your times.” Chan hears your father’s voice from the locker rooms, the Korean Australian hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but with how loud your father’s voice echoed it was hard not to do so. “Do you think your mother would be proud?”

“She said, I should make friends-”

“YOUR MOTHER IS SICK.” Chan flinches at your father’s loud voice as it echoes.

“She’s sick, just because she says something it doesn’t mean you should follow through.” Your father’s voice softens this time, exhaustion peeking through.

“Friends? You’d be distracted and before you even know it. You’d be toppled off that little podium of yours.” He pauses, scoffing. “Don’t make me regret allowing you to hang out with the Bang boy. Beat his times, don’t get too comfortable just cause you’re topping your bracket.”

Chan doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath till he hears both your footsteps as you exit the hall. What he’s heard has left him baffled, you weren’t exactly talkative when it came to your family affairs, you never seemed to be so bothered either.

The Korean-Australian remembers faintly the rumors that followed your persona. All about your reluctance when it came to making friends, never taking into consideration that perhaps your father had played a part in your icy exterior and reputation.

No wonder most of the kids in your academy had been so shocked to see you interact and talk with the transferee, knowing that you had never been the type to prefer company.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

It wasn’t like you to be so careless either, you were quite attentive when it came to maintaining your grades and health as an athlete.

So, the D on your most recent math test, as well as the onset symptoms of cold was something that had made your blood run cold. Your school followed a strict protocol that required athletes to maintain a good record, which included having Bs and upon all tests.

Anything less than that would mean a week of suspension when it came to training as well as being supplied a set of reviewers to “catch up”, which you were required to finish and submit by the end of the suspension.

Not only that but surprisingly, your father was quite sensitive when it came to your physical welfare, a result of your mother’s condition, honestly. Which meant that the man would not let you near any body of water until you would be in perfect health.

Dread seemed to settle into your system as you hand him your slip, which would signify your suspension. “You were coughing earlier, take time off, I’ll call the nutritionist to change your diet. I’ll call the tutor-”

“You’re getting a tutor?” Chan beams behind your father, “I can help you, I’m in advanced remember?”

Times like these the Korean- Australian baffled you with his audacity, as he continued to grow out of his shyness, and despite your dad having explicitly stated that he had preferred you not to spend any time with your fellow swimmer, he still respected the Korean Australian’s talent and dedication to the sport.

“You’re in advanced math classes Chris?” Chan nods at this in hopes that the coach would consider his offer. “Your times have gotten better, you could take a few days off, with her.”

What?

You’re both in the locker rooms packing your bags when you whisper, “How’d you do that?”

“What do you mean?” Chan hums, amused by your intrigued form.

“My dad, your coach, the F/n L/n, agreed with your suggestion. How did you do that?” You’re poking at his sides, determined to make him spill.

“Secret~” He pokes his tongue out, running out of the training hall.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

You had your chauffeur, drop you off in the Bang Residence, surprised to learn that you lived a street down. You’re warmly welcomed by Chan’s parents greeting and smiling at them through your mask.

“Looks like you didn’t my help nor a tutor, Y/n” Chan smiles seeing that you’re almost through seven worksheets, the swimmer knew you were smart and could keep up with your grades. Though for you to be this careless, he knew that something might’ve been bothering you.

“Come on, let’s go.” You’re shocked as he pulls you up to stand, making you drop your pen and papers, the boy barely gives you any room to argue before he’s pushing you out of the doorway.

“But- my work”

“Could be done within the week remember? Not in one go.”

Before you could even argue, you’re flabbergasted to find yourself seated on a bus, on the way to some location that Chan would not tell you anything about. “We could’ve taken the car, Chan.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” He grins dimple popping out.

“Just remember we have to be back at seven before my driver arrives-”

“Yada-yada, we’ll be fine now let’s have some fun, my style, and my treat!” Chan gestures to the mall you’ve arrived at, giggling at your stunned expression.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Honestly, you’ve never ridden a bus, nor have you been to a mall, or arcade. These are all things you’ve seen in films and movies, living such a secluded life, your father would bust a vein to find out that you were here.

Though there’s a first for everything. It’s also been a while since you’ve had this much fun, laughing, and giggling at every little thing. You’re thankful to have released a little bit of stress, even for just a moment.

Chan even manages to win you a small whale plushie from the arcade. Though you probably think he could’ve saved by just buying you one from the shop across. It amazes you to see teenagers and kids just your age, littered across the mall, you had never thought to come to a place like this.

“Thanks for today.” You nudge him with your elbow, the plushie safely tucked underneath your armpit, digging into the vanilla ice cream you had gotten on the way home.

“Sure, but you’re treating me next time.” You halt, raising an eyebrow at the older boy.

“What do you mean next time?”

“Y/nnnnnn..” He drags your name in a whine. “Fun things are supposed to be done again, you can’t just live your life just swimming and going to school. We’re kids! We’re supposed to have fun and live life and make memories! That’s what life’s supposed to be! Alright?”

You should be living your childhood. Your mother’s voice pierces through your head, at Chan’s words, had this been what she meant?

“Hey. are you crying? Ya! Don’t cry” You hear Chan say something inaudible perhaps in Korean, as he frets over your crying figure, you see him pat himself down, hearing a small “aha!” before he’s reaching over to dry your tears with a handkerchief.

Softly patting down your cheeks, he sighs. “You don’t have to tell me, what’s wrong, but I’m right here, and I will always be.” He’s pulling you into a hug, you feel your body stiffen from the contact, surprised at the display of intimacy.

You don’t question why, but it feels warm and safe. Just like a cup of vanilla ice cream after a nice swim on the beach.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

“Hey, wake up, we’re here” a soft nudge pushes at your side, you hum in response, finding the boy’s shoulder comfortable.

Chan sighs, smiling at how comfortable you were with your head on his shoulder, cooing at your initiation of intimacy. It had taken you a few years before you were comfortable with any form of affection at all, putting two and two together to realize it must’ve had something to do with your family.

The young swimmer was well aware he was never obliged to fix you nor your situation despite his young age, but seeing you glow and smile at the different yet simple aspects of life that had been prohibited by your situation made him feel warm.

Ever since your first hug, albeit its awkwardness, you had become more receptive to little bits of physical affection and verbal affirmation. Chan smiling as recalled the first time you had initiated a hug, mindlessly throwing your arms around your best friend after he had gotten you a present for your birthday. Needless to say, you had become quite flustered at the realization of your actions.

Over the past few years, your father’s complaints about your friendship with Chan had lessened, seeing your continuous development in terms of grades and dedication. And despite being friends, the competitive fire within you had never ceased, holding on to that desire to beat Chan’s record.

The sun has set. You realize as you open your eyes, blinking out remnants of your drowsiness as you yawn. You’re raising your head from Chan’s shoulder when you realize his hand was extremely close to your face.

You’re jolting up in embarrassment before muttering, “Have I been drooling?” Quickly patting and wiping your lips for saliva.

“Uh, maybe, but it’s f-”

“Don’t you dare say it’s fine Christopher! Augh! This is embarrassing you should’ve woken me up!” You’re storming out of the car, cheeks warm in your flustered form.

Chan chuckles, how cute.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Ever since hearing of your newly found friend, your mother had continuously asked for you to bring Chan over. And since their meeting, your mother had continuously asked for the return of your polite and talented friend.

It amused you how your mother stated he was like an angel with his voice and good nature, well she wasn’t entirely wrong. Your mother had never shared anything about her life before her sickness, you knew that she had been an only child like you, and from the number of books and records on the shelf in her room, as well as the violin and record player on the side, her interests must’ve been aligned with those.

So when Chan had asked, “What’s your mother like?” You didn’t really know how you could respond to the question and before you know it the line of liking music and books had been stumbling out of your mouth.

Chan’s eyes had lit up at the mention of music, proceeding to ask which artist, what genre. Though with observant eyes, Chan could see your aura dim, he decides to drop the topic, he asks you about the latest Pokemon game. That had been the first time, you’d taken note of Chan’s interest in music.

Though it still surprises you when the day he meets your mother, he arrives with a fresh fruit basket and a ukulele.

He had smiled at your mother that day before he began strumming a soft melody you didn’t recognize. It takes him a while before he states that he had made the melody on his own, struggling to find the lyrics to suit them.

You remember your mother’s words; “It should come from here, whatever you do in life, ensure that your heart will beat for it.” She had said.

Your mother at times was an enigma, speaking in poetry that you struggled to decipher. Some days, you were envious when you’d see her with Chan, seemingly sharing a secret they wouldn’t let you in on. Chan would always seem to understand the puzzling lines she’d say.

It’s another afternoon to which your mother had invited Chan over, you’re both stepping into her room when you find her immersed in one of her classics, a thick leather bounded book, you’d be too terrified to try and read, without busting a vein.

She doesn’t look up, when she hears you two enter, she never does, and you know better than to disturb her amidst her reading. Though you admit that there’s this aura about your mother when she’s immersed in a book, it’s as if she takes a step into the world she’s reading about, escaping whatever pain she currently faces in reality.

It’s only until you set the peeled apples on the table next to her when she looks up. “How has your day been, love? Your father hasn’t been overworking you too much?” She sets the book and her glasses on her bedside table.

“I’m fine mum, Chan brought you some apples, and look they’re cut like bunnies.” She smiles as you offer a slice into her mouth, carefully biting onto it.

“That’s good to hear, Chan dear, my you’ve grown look how tall you’ve grown since I last saw you.” Your mother reaches to ruffle his curls.

“Mom you saw him last week-”

“Have I? really auntie!” You roll your eyes at the overly enthusiastic reply at the mention of his height.

A knock halts your conversation, the door opens to reveal your father’s secretary, she calls your name, stating that your father had called you into his office. You take one last look at Chan and your mother, letting them know that you’d be right back.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Perhaps it’s the thick atmosphere of your father’s office, but at the sight of the envelope with its infamous school colors, it’s as if all the oxygen in the room had been sucked out.

Your father passes you the envelope, “Everything’s been settled, we can get you a flat there, or perhaps you’d like to live in their dorms. You start next semester, you can move after your graduation.-”

“Does mom know?”

“She does.”

“When had this been sent in?”

“Just last week, you really don’t need to worry about anything dear, be sure you graduate and get a good result on next week’s tournament.” Right graduation.

With all the exams you had recently finished as well as training it had completely slipped your mind that you were entering high school in two months.

You faintly recall a conversation you and Chan had after finding out about his interest in music. “(Y/n), What are you going to be when you grow up?” He had asked you during one of your trips to the ice cream parlor, digging into his salted caramel ice cream.

The question caught you off guard. What did you want to do? Eyes downcast you began to finding interest in the vanilla ice cream, as you picked at it. “I’ll probably continue swimming, that’s what my dad wants.”

“Yeah, that's what your dad wants, but what do you want? Like I want to do something with music! I want to use it as a platform to spread messages, to help people find comfort in music the way I do.” He had looked so bright, so gleeful, like a star so far and out of reach.

“Oh, that’s amazing Chris. Though I don’t know what I want to do.” How you wish you were just as passionate as Chan, wishing you could break through your comfort zone to chase after the one thing you loved the most.

“Then I’ll help you find something, something you’ll come to love the way I do with music.”Maybe at that time, I had found something to love, maybe I just didn’t know it yet. “But if you love swimming, then you’ll be the greatest swimmer in the world, you’ll be an Olympic medalist!” He raises his ice cream cup as a toast, you clink yours with him, smiling at how happy he looked.

Chan was your north star, no matter which direction the universe spun, he remained unwavering, shining bright and leading you to home, him, your comfort.

Dazed, you don’t realize you’ve been standing in front of your mother’s room until Chan opens the door, he yelps in shock at the sight of your deadpanned eyes.

He says something in Korean, clutching his heart at the unintentional scare. “You scared me, why are you standing there like some zombie.”

“Oops, sorry just a bit occupied.” Quickly hiding the envelope behind your back, something his eyes don’t miss. “Let’s go, dinner’s ready.”

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

After dinner you decide to take a walk to have some ice cream at the familiar parlor you frequented ever since becoming friends and after you had lost to him the first time you met.

Sitting down you both order, asking for your usual vanilla-flavored ice cream, Chan picks the mint chocolate chip, a special for the week. He’s silent all of a sudden, fixing you with a serious gaze as he takes in a deep breath. It made you uneasy suddenly as if whatever he would say next would change your fate.

And it did.

“Y/n remember when I said I wanted to make music?” He asks, fiddling with the spoon, nervous which was a rare sight for the charismatic boy.

You hum in response allowing him to continue. “Well, my parents and I made a deal, they would allow me to live in South Korea as a trainee, as long as I got into a good company. And well I got in, you’re now looking at the latest Australian trainee of JYP Entertainment. I'm leaving after the tournament next week!” He points to himself with his thumb, smiling and giddy to hear your response.

Korea as in Korea within Asia? That's 6828 kilometers away!

“(Y/n), are you alright? You’re not saying anything, there is something wrong.” Without noticing you had turned your head down, allowing your hair to create a curtain between you two. He reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ears and is surprised to be met by your tear-stained cheeks. “You’re crying.” He says, unsure of what to say and what made you upset. “Are you not happy I got in?”

“No, I'm happy! You’re finally getting what you dreamed of! You’re going to be amazing Chris. I’m crying because of how happy I am for you.” I’m going to be all alone. You’re going to be living 6828 kilometers away, in a foreign country when we barely turned 14. I’m going to be all alone. I want to be happy for you but why does this hurt so much? I’m going to be all alone.

You might as well tell him. “I’m moving, I got into Griffith so I’m moving into the dorms as well.”

“That’s huge! That place is a breeding ground for Olympians! That’s amazing! We’re both chasing after our dreams, after all. Congratulations Y/n.” It honestly didn’t feel like something to be happy of.

All will be alright, with time. We’ll be alright.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

The next following day came faster than expected you both tried to pretend he wasn’t leaving in the next few days, you tried to pretend that you’d still be able to see one another in the next few years and maybe the next few days. A sense of normalcy in the upcoming days of uncertainty. Neither of you had any idea what fate had in store for you both and you could only hope.

And soon enough the day of the tournament finally rolls around. You’re buzzing with excitement as you entered the building. Chan, on the other hand, was nervous at this being his last swim meet, he hoped to make this as memorable as possible. And though you never say it, Chan knew that deep down you loved swimming, no matter how much you tried to make it out that you only did it for your dad.

He sees you glow the moment you step into the pool, he knew you’re meant for this, to be up there with the pro athletes he too had admired. And as much as it hurt him to leave you, he’s stunned and in awe of how much stronger you’ve become.

He loved the confidence that you had as you walked into the competition hall, ignoring the curious gazes, and turning heads at the mention of your name. You have been destined to reign the competitive world of swimming, and he knew he wasn’t as good as you were to reign alongside you. He had accepted that a long time ago.

He walks with you to the locker room to prepare and change, trailing a few steps after you. Observing the looks of both younger and older swimmers in awe at the sight of you, your reputation in the sport was indeed something to uphold.

You turn to him gripping your gym bag tightly, which he had offered to carry but had been rejected along the lines of saying that you were a woman that could carry your belongings or something like that. “Well, I’ll see you later, wish me luck.” You raise your fist to him, initiating your signature good luck handshake before every competition. The handshake brought you a lot of reassurance and strength, taking away any worries you’d have.

You grin at him one last time, turning at your heels to enter the room, but before you take another step, he pulls you in for a hug, squeezing you tightly, your hands awkward by your sides, unsure of whether to hug him back. “You don’t need luck, go wreck them.”

You scoff at his words, finally deciding to wrap your arms around his shoulder. “Of course, see ya later Bangaroo.”

Up in the stands Chan observes you as you take your positions on the starting block, he smiles to himself as he sees you wearing the goggles and swim cap, he had given you during your last birthday. He had saved for it the whole year to surprise you with your favorite swimming brand. You had teared up at the gift, before smacking him for the times he had complained every time you invited him to the parlor.

He had never seen you wear the cap and goggles at practice, you had told him you had to save the luck for competitions. He had asked you to explain though you brushed off the statement by pushing him into the pool.

“It’s nice to see you here, isn’t this your last swim meet?” Chan blinks in surprise as the older man takes a seat beside him joining him to observe his daughter.

“Coach (L/n)..” Chan greets, unsure of what to say. Since, the knowledge of his rough treatment of his best friend, he had preferred not to stay too close to the older man, aware of his dislike for him.

“She’s still as amazing as ever.” Your father whispers in awe more to himself rather than Chan. “I was surprised you know, at her growth and development since your arrival. You’ve been an amazing push to her capabilities as a swimmer, that I have to admit.”

The older man stands up all of a patting him on the shoulder, “Well good luck, and thank you for giving her that push. Hug her for me later.” Chan’s surprised by the time your father leaves is just in time you finish the swim, realizing you had already won.

28.08 He gasps as he sees the scoreboard alongside your name. 28.08 You had broken his 50M Free record by a second, after years of competing and ice cream trips, you’ve finally done it. He sees you shocked as well, he meets your eyes, throwing you a thumbs up from the stands, grin highlighted by his dimples.

You looked radiant, a small voice in his head reassures him that he made the right choice., that you’d be alright. He starts heading toward the locker rooms to prepare. He’s stunned by your father’s words, he knows in his heart he made the right decision, and he knows he shouldn’t let this bother him, especially when he’s about to compete.

He steps into the starting block, slipping on his goggles, snapping them against the back of his head to erase any of his worries. Lastly, he’s putting on his swim cap. Taking deep even breaths, it’s his last swim. Chan wants to make this as memorable as possible.

He closes his palm clenching it, testing to see how shaky and nervous he was, only to see that it wasn’t that bad. His heart rate isn’t so accelerated either. They’re given the signals to take their positions. And Chan is surprised there are no unpleasant jitters in his stomach.

Chan reacts with the beep, kicking off the starting block and then diving into the waters, he feels the pull of gravity just as he surfaces to take his first breath. Rotating from his shoulders, he paces his breathing for the first lap to maintain his stamina. Though once he approaches the end, he gives a powerful kick to the touchpad turning as he accelerates. In the last lap, he pushes himself to go faster, erasing all thoughts and worries. He reminds himself that this is his specialty, the one style in swimming you couldn’t beat him at. He’s slipping his goggles and swim cap before he even realizes he won.

Chris places gold. And it feels exhilarating, he feels so happy he could cry. He sees you in the stands, grinning and he’s sure he mirrors your grin.

You’re taking a few pictures, not missing the chance to take matching iconic pics biting gold medals. A small voice at the back of your head asks what the odds of would be you two doing these pictures at a larger scale.

After dinner, which his parents had invited you to, you’re both walking to that ice cream parlor two blocks from his house. You’re chuckling as Chan waves his wallet, a show that he would be paying for the first time.

You smile as he hands you, your usual cup of vanilla-flavored ice cream. You’re now walking back to his house, soaking up the comfortable atmosphere trying to let the events that happened today sink in. Chan would be leaving tomorrow morning, and you’d be leaving in a few weeks as well.

“So, mister idol, are you excited?” Deciding to break the silence, nudging at him as his ears turn pink.

“A bit, it’s a huge leap, you know, absolutely knowing no one, I still have an accent when I speak in Korean it might sound weird, gosh I have to make friends and all that. But oh god, what if I can’t make any? What if I don’t debut? What if I just don’t cut it? Oh god, you’re not going to be there to treat me to ice cream, to binge on anime, treat me to food and ice cream. I just-” Chan pauses as his voice cracks, footsteps coming to a halt, “I’m just going to miss Australia so so much.”

You find yourself gaping, as you see the taller boy crumble. Between the two of you, it had always been you to be the emotional one, the crybaby, on the other hand, Chan had always been your rock and your shoulder to cry on no matter the situation. Seeing him cry pulled at your heartstrings, soon enough you’re throwing your arms around him, rubbing circles into his back.

“You’re going to be fine, Chris, you’ll be amazing, and if any of them starts anything with you, I’m booking a flight to kick their arse.” Pulling away from the hug, you cup his cheeks, wiping his tears for the first time in your friendship.

Knowing how worried he was with all the changes, it was your turn to be his rock, after all the times he had been yours. Chris was amazing no matter what he was doing, whether it was sitting in class paying attention to a math problem, or asking for your opinion on his swimming, or just talking to you. He was meant to be amazing.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until. “Are you going to miss me?”

You sigh at his red-rimmed eyes, endeared at his sniffles. “Of course, I am, I care about you a lot, what makes you think I wouldn’t, you better not forget me when you’re all famous. I’m just a bit disappointed we’re going our separate ways, we’ve been through a lot, you’ve been there for me no matter what, I’m grateful for meeting you, Chris.” It takes you a while to realize that you’re tearing up.

“I’m really really going to miss you, Chris. It’s going to be different not swimming with you anymore, not going to the parlor to get ice cream, teasing you for how much you eat, letting me win video games, who’s going to teach me math!? If I weren’t good at swimming the teachers wouldn’t be so patient with me!” You struggle to hold back your tears, deciding to reach up and hide your face in the crevice of his neck and shoulder, squeezing him in reassurance.

Chan fixes his arms around your waist, returning the hug, “We’re going to be fine, so long as that no matter what you do, make sure it comes from here, you’ll be alright, we’ll be alright, you’re stronger than ever. Don’t you ever let anyone take that from you, okay? I have something for you. Can you close your eyes?”

With your eyes shut, you can feel Chan’s hands around your neck, you can feel his soft breathing, and the soft click of a clasp. “You can open them.” You gasp at the sight of the pretty mermaid tail that sat on the crevice of your collar bones.

“You were meant for this Y/n. You radiate and glow when you swim, you’re going to do amazing.” Chan presses a soft kiss into your forehead, a reminder of how much taller he’s grown. “I have something else for you tomorrow, but that’s a surprise for you tomorrow, I’ll give it to you at the airport tomorrow, okay?” He presses another kiss into your cheek, wiping the few tears that had escaped.

Soon enough, you’re on your way back home, the previously comforting silence disrupted by distant yet ear-splitting sirens, you pay it no mind until you notice how it sounds closer as you near your house.

You’re gasping at the sight of the bright blue and red lights, frozen still as you see paramedics roll your mother out of the house. Everything blurs as you’re pushed and ushered here and there, calls of your name passing through the other ear.

As everything goes dark.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

“I’m sure it was just fatigue.” In and out of consciousness, you found it difficult to determine which parts of it were real, and which weren’t.

“Mom?” Fluttering your eyes open, you were surprised to see a bright white interior, contrasting the blue hues of your room in your house.

“Y/n?” Turning towards the voice, you’re met by your nanny’s worried eyes, as she hovers a damp towel to your forehead. “You’re in the hospital dear, you passed out after we fetched you last night, your mother I’m afraid, she doesn’t have much time left.”

“Where is she-” You’re rushing to stand, wincing in pain when you realize that you have an IV attached to you. “Bring me to her.”

The nanny struggles to aid you in your haste, pushing the IV behind your quick steps. Luckily your mother had been in the room next to you, had it been any further your legs would have given up.

The soft hum and consistent beeps of machines echoed throughout your mother’s room; the sharp scent of antiseptics clouded your thinking. Your father stands from the side of her bed, you’re surprised when he meets you at the door, softly telling the nanny to leave as he takes your hand in his, guiding your IV in the process.

He quietly helps you up into your mother’s bed, who’s surprisingly awake, and smiles at the sight of you. You can feel tears well up, your heart heavy as you take in her figure, engraving it to your heart. She still wears the blue and white scarf atop her head, something you had given her after receiving your first allowance as an athlete.

You don’t realize you’re shaking as you reach to caress her cheek, carefully avoiding the wires attached to her. She holds your hand to her cheek, appreciating the warmth you brought. “Hello love, I heard you passed out, are you doing alright?”

You could only nod in response, your chest heavy as tears began to drip into the white sheets of her bed. “Now listen to me love, you are the sun, you are my sun, and I know I haven’t been there that much to show you all the love you deserve, but I do love you. You are the sun that brought me warmth in that cold room of mine, you are the light that beams when you step into the room. Don’t you ever let anyone dim your light.”

She carefully pulls you into her chest, rubbing small patterns into your back, in an attempt to soothe the shaking of your chest. “You’re going to be alright, love, live the life you love, and everything will be alright. Mom loves you so much, you're so amazing you should know that. I might not be a part of your bigger achievements, your ups and downs in life, falling in love, and all that. Though I do hope you find someone, who’d be there until the end, someone to hold your hand in this dark and empty world. Though I want you to remember that you are beyond your medals, I will still love you no matter what you choose to do in life, alright? I will forever be proud to be your mother-” Her voice dwindles as she trails off, her arm dropping from behind your back, as her breath stills in the process.

The room goes up in flames as everything begins to beep loudly, you could do nothing but sob harder as you cling to your dying mother. The next few minutes are a blur, in the chaos, you feel someone pull you from your mother’s chest as the room floods with medical personnel.

It takes you a while to realize that it’s your father who holds you, turning you away from your mother’s figure as you continue to sob, unable to say anything but cry. The word I love you lingers on the tip of your tongue, regret weighing heavily on your chest.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

You hadn’t realized you had passed out once more, eyes adjusting to bright hospital lights as everything feels numb. You’re surprised to see your father passed out on the chair next to your bed, eyes swollen and sunken with everything that had happened.

Feeling a bit parched, you reach for the water bottle that had supposedly been there, but instead, you find a small iPod and some earphones. Chan’s unique penmanship on the iPod catches your eye, intrigued, you reach for it.

Another strike of guilt threatens to pull at your heartstrings, of the realization that you had missed his flight. “The Bangs came by the house to drop that off, they mentioned that Chris had wanted to give you this before his flight.” Your father blinks sleep out of his eyes, stretching before he leaves the room.

It takes you a while to untangle the earphones before you plug them in the iPod with a soft click before you wear them. The small square weighs heavy on your hand as you press play.

“Hello, Y/n!” You jump a bit at the loudness of Chan’s voice quickly adjusting the volume.

“Since that fateful day where you saved me from the bullies, I have forever been in your debt. Kidding! “You roll your eyes amused as he continues talking.

“Well not really, but honestly Y/n you have played a huge role not only in my development as a swimmer but as well as a friend. You had been someone I wanted to protect from all the cruel things in this world, had I not met you I wonder if I would’ve had any friends here.” Says the social butterfly, yeah right Christopher.

“I really wished it hadn’t been this way,” I wish it hadn’t been this way either.

“We had a good run Y/n, I am forever grateful to have met you. Now I don’t have much to say, but in a few minutes, a song will play. It’s a song I made. It's something your mom helped put together. I do hope you enjoy this little gift from us, and please do give her a hug in my stead. I do hope you like this song, and may you continue to shine as you take on the professional world of swimming! With love, Your Bangaroo” With everything that has happened, you don’t really feel disappointed or sad with your best friend’s decision, maybe a bit of regret from the lack of time, but all you could do is hope that time and faith would not be so cruel once more.

Chan’s voice fades out as a soft melody of piano notes begins to play, your heart warms as Chan’s voice begins to sing.

“And take, take her to the moon for me

Take her like you promised me

Say you love her every time like how you told me the last time”

You could understand why your mother had told you that Chan was like your guardian angel. Albeit a bit of an exaggeration for a boy your age, but his soft and giving nature had been your source of comfort and happiness throughout middle school and for that, you will forever be grateful.

“Someday I know we'll meet again

In heaven by the rainbow's end

And I only wish you happiness

Until we meet again”

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

next

[seulgiology]

still with you ┃jeon jungkook

pairings: idol!jungkook x non-idol!reader

words: 2.6k

genre: fluff :)

synopsis: you miss jungkook while he’s away on tour, but he reminds you that he is still with you no matter what. 

warnings: cute shit ahead, angst if you squint, might make you smile.

a/n: ahhh omg admin 2 is here to save the day. june has been a really shitty month for us when it comes to giving you guys some fics and we’re sorryyy. butttt here is some jk fluff inspired by his song still with you, bc omg it is so good and i listen to it like all the time lmao. when i listened to it, i got inspired to write a little oneshot ahaha. okay this is getting long lmao, love you all <3.

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

--

The low music playing is what motivates you to get out of bed. You walk over to the vinyl player in your room to turn it off and when you do, you slump against the dresser with a tired sigh and rub your eyes. 

You can’t sleep.

That was the conclusion you came to after trying to fall asleep but failing, and here you are thirty minutes later. You had eaten dinner, took a hot shower, and even played a vinyl to help you sleep but even that rendered useless. You knew the cause of your restlessness was because your boyfriend wasn’t home and was overseas on tour still. 

It was a hard transition at first, getting used to your boyfriend being out of the country for tours. Some would think that after years of being together, you would’ve gotten used to it but they don’t understand how had it is. Since you’re already used to Jungkook being apart of your everyday life, it is hard when suddenly he’s gone for sometimes months. 

Even though at times you would fly out to wherever he was to attend a concert or see him. There are video calls whenever you two can and texting every day when he’s not busy. But, there was nothing like being in his presence. At times it was hard for you to fall asleep because he wasn’t there and you felt pathetic for needing him this much but you couldn’t help it.

You leave the room, the sound of your slippers being the only thing heard through the quiet house. You walk down the stairs and make your way to the kitchen, hoping some tea will help you relax some more. You fill the tea kettle with water before placing it on the stove and while you wait, you go back to your room to get your phone.

When unplugging it from the charger on your nightstand, you see two new messages from Jungkook from three minutes ago and you instinctively smile, unlocking your phone to see what he said. 

jk <3: hey baby, we just got done performing and im exhausted but happy.

jk <3: i know you’re probably sleeping but i love you and we will call when you wake up, sweet dreams baby.

A sad smile falls across your lips when reading the messages and you call him without thinking twice about it. You sit at the end of your bed and wait for him to answer the facetime call. He said he was exhausted and it was only five minutes ago so he shouldn’t be sleeping yet.

When he answers, your breath hitches at the beautiful sight of him. He’s smiling wide at the camera ad pushes some hair away from his eyes delicately. “Y/N, hey!” Jungkook is practically shouting and you hear the boys in the back yelling their greeting to you as well and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi,” you greet back in a small voice and Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice how off you sound. You watch as he bustles around and then finally sits down, where there isn’t as much noise being heard. “I didn’t know you were still at the stadium, do you want to call when you get back to the hotel?” You suggest and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow a bit at the tone of your voice. It sounded a bit shaky and he just knew something was wrong.

“No, no it’s fine we’re not leaving for another twenty minutes. Plus, I’m riding with Jimin so I have to wait until he’s ready,” Jungkook assures with a wave of his hand and pushes some hair out of his face again, causing you to smile again. “I thought you were sleeping though. Why are you still up?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admit sheepishly. You watch as Jungkook’s smile falls from his face and immediate worry crosses his features. “Ah, don’t worry Kook-ah, I just have trouble sleeping without you sometimes but I get over it.”

“Y/N…” Jungkook trails off sadly. Your eyes widen when you realize he started to worry anyways but before you could speak, he’s talking again. “We talked about this, yeah? Whenever you can’t sleep just call me, you know I’m not busy when you’re heading to sleep anyways. I always make time for you regardless,” he reminds you in a soft voice and the emotion that crashes into you makes you look down because your eyes started to tear up. 

“I know, I just don’t want you to worry about me. I should have been gotten used to this,” you whisper more to yourself, feeling even more upset. “I’m sorry,” You whisper, tears close to falling and emotion thick in your voice. 

“Y/N, hey, baby don’t cry,” Jungkook says in his soothing voice but you keep your head down, refusing to look at him. “I’m going to worry about you whenever I’m not by your side, that’s a given and that’s nothing you should be apologizing for. Don’t apologize for missing me, okay? Because I miss you too- so much,” Jungkook admits calmly and you can’t help but break down into tears. 

Jungkook is glad he has his headphones with him because he wouldn’t want the boys to hear you crying, it hurting him just not being there to hold you. He knew you took it hard whenever he had to leave and it made him feel bad sometimes but he knew you understood. 

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you say through your sobs, and Jungkook smiles sadly at you. You finally raise your face to wipe at some tears and Jungkook stays silent, waiting for you to speak. 

“I think it’s the time we been apart, you know? This is the longest we’ve been apart and it hasn’t even been two months yet,” you laugh is painful to hear because he knows it isn’t one of humor. Your chest felt like it was caving in the more you speak and as you look at Jungkook, your heart aches knowing you can’t touch him or hear him in person. “I just really miss you,” you whisper finally.

“I know and I miss you too,” Jungkook whispers back and feels himself tearing up as well, always having been a bit more open with his feelings when it came to you. “Just another week, okay? And if you’re still up when I get to the hotel, I’ll sing you to sleep.”

“Really?” you ask in a hopeful voice and Jungkook grins at your eyes brightening a bit. He nods with a hum and you smile the tiniest but it’s enough for him. 

“I love you,” he reminds you and your heart does that little skip it always does when he tells you he loves you. “I love you too, Jungkook,” you say back, the smile he gives in return enough to make you smile wider. 

You two hang up shortly after and you shuffle back down the stairs with a heavy heart. You felt a bit better but you were still missing Jungkook. You were going to have to get used to this so this wouldn’t be a problem for him for future reference.

You turn the stove off once downstairs and push the kettle to the back because you weren’t in the mood for tea anymore. When you get back upstairs, you just lay in bed and scroll through twitter, watching little moments and fancams from the concert earlier and pride swells through you at how good Jungkook is and has gotten throughout the years.

In fifteen minutes, your phone is ringing again and Jungkook is singing you to sleep. And that night you get the best sleep you’ve gotten since he has been gone.

-- 

It was two days later and you were coming home from dinner with some friends of yours. You had stopped by the store on the way home to grab some snacks because you were running low. You close the door behind you after and kick your shoes off by the door, trading them for your house slippers. 

You flip on the light and shuffle to the kitchen, turning that light on as well. It took you a few minutes to put the snacks away and after that, you got yourself a bottle of water from the fridge. As you walk upstairs, you text Jungkook letting him know you got home from dinner and you were going to watch a movie in a few.

When you get to the bedroom, you flip the light on and start to take off your clothes. You walk in you and Jungkook’s closet and turn to his side of the closet, picking out a pair of his sweats for yourself. Just as your finishing up, the doorbell is ringing.

You pull your hair out of Jungkook’s hoodie with a confused frown, wondering who could be at the door. You jog down the stairs while running a hand through your hair cause of how messy it looked after pulling on your boyfriend’s hoodie.

You open the door without thinking and who you see standing there knocks the breath out of you. You blink a few times to try to see if your vision is blurry but he is still standing there. Holding his camera bag and a suitcase by his feet, smiling shyly at you. 

“Surprise?” Jungkook says in more of a question and your mouth opens, then shuts. You can’t speak because you’re feeling so much right now. The feeling of relief and happiness is spreading through you so fast it is becoming overwhelming. You open your mouth to speak again but quickly shut it when realizing you don’t know what to say.

Instead of speaking, you do the first thing that comes to mind. You take two steps towards him and wrap your arms around his middle, gently laying your head down on his chest and closing your eyes. Jungkook smiles from above you before hugging you back, kissing your forehead softly and swaying you two gently back and forth.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like forever before Jungkook pulls away, grabbing gently at your shoulders so he can see your face. A smile finds its way onto your face as Jungkook is already smiling down at you, tucking strands of your hair behind your left ear. 

“Hi,” you finally greet and Jungkook can’t help but laugh in relief, swooping down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. You’re caught off guard but kiss him back anyways, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. 

It’s a short but sweet kiss and you’re the one pulling away from it this time. You smack your lips together and smooth your hands up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook is looking down at you so sweetly, your heart is starting to hurt. 

“Let’s get inside,” you suggest, and Jungkook nods, gathering his stuff and walking into the house after you. “Have you eaten?” you ask after locking the door, while Jungkook takes his shoes off. 

“No, I’m more tired than hungry,” Jungkook tells you while ruffling his fluffy hair. It makes you smile just knowing he is here with you again and a few days before he was supposed to be home anyways. Jungkook looks at you when noticing your silence and raises an eyebrow. This is when he really takes the time to realize what you’re wearing. “Are those my sweats?” he asks, amusement laced in his tone and you quickly heat up, arms wrapping around yourself.

“No!” you’re quick to say but Jungkook is already hugging you again, muttering about how cute you are. You shove him away slightly, grumbling under your breath and pulling the hood over your head. Jungkook kisses your forehead before grabbing his things and shuffling up the stairs.

“Come back down when you’re done!” you shout up after him and he makes a noise of agreement back. You walk to the kitchen and take out a bottle of water, sitting at the island and going to take your phone out of your pocket when realizing you left it upstairs. You stand up and make a move to go get it until your eyes catch sight of your backyard.

You walk towards the sliding doors and slide it open, stepping out into the clear night. There was a gentle breeze passing through the warm summer air and you pocket your hands in the pockets of the sweatpants that are way too big on you.

It was the stars that caught your attention from inside the kitchen. The way they were sparkling and glistening so brightly in the sky made you smile, and admire them. You weren’t sure how long you were standing there but when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind you, you blinked out of your trance. 

“What are you doing out here?” Jungkook whispers against your neck, pressing a light kiss there which sends shivers down your spine. 

“The stars are beautiful,” you respond in a soft voice, and Jungkook hums. His chin rests on your shoulder and your hands lay over his. It’s a beautiful night and the breeze knocks Jungkook’s heavenly smell into you. Leaning back into his chest, Jungkook kisses both of your cheeks.

He then grabs at your waist gently and turns you around in his hold so he can see your face. You notice his change of clothes and any makeup that was left on his face is now off. Jungkook sways the two of you again but you take it upon yourself to start moving. 

The two of you dance around your backyard with happy smiles on your faces and at one point Jungkook starts to sing. It’s soft and low but it’s enough, it’s enough for your eyes to tear up and for you to lean up and kiss him hard. The dancing slows but doesn’t stop as the kiss picks up, passionate, and filled with so many unspoken promises. You grip at his shoulders and he squeezes your hips, pulling you closer to him. 

When the rain starts to pour, neither of you move. You hold onto each other tightly and Jungkook moves his head back, breaking the kiss. It’s a happy laugh that sounds through the air and your tears spill over when noticing he’s crying, even though the rain. 

“I missed you,” Jungkook admits, his voice shaky and your heart fills. “And I love you, so much Y/N, I will never leave you, okay? It’s always me and you, forever. I’m still with you.”

His words echo in your head beautifully. His teary eyes look at you which such fondness and with so much love, you know he is being honest with you. You’re not sure where this is coming from but you don’t hesitate to kiss him again, but this time slower. You two move together perfectly and your trembling lips make you pull apart. 

“I love you, Jungkook,” you say to him and Jungkook bites his trembling lip to keep from crying. The rain is starting to pour harder but neither of you care. “Always,” you assure with a small smile. The volume of your voice was a bit loud due to the heaviness of the rain but Jungkook heard you loud and clear. 

After the heartfelt moment outside, you two scurry back inside and rid of your clothes immediately, dropping it at the laundry room and as you’re drying your hair, Jungkook speaks.

“You know we just kissed in the rain right?”

“And there goes the moment.”

[bimboamyrose]

On The Scarlett Sea - Part 1 / 2

A ~Pirate~ Metamy Fanfic -  [Link to Part 2]  - [AO3 Link]

Synopsis When the world learns of a secret pirate treasure plundered from the Knuckles Clan’s ancient ruins over 300 years ago, Knuckles enlists the help of his friends, Amy and Tails, to retrieve and hide its most powerful artifact- a mysterious mirror that allows the user to become their most desired self. He isn’t the only one after the treasure, however; As Metal Sonic discovers the existence of the mirror, he forms his own crew of “pirates” to take it for himself. Along the way, he separates Amy from her friends and convinces her to help him make his greatest dream a reality- but what is that, really?

In collaboration with @mmm-asbestos​ & their pirate Metamy AU  Merry Xmas / Happy holidays and stay well~

Part 1

There were few things Knuckles regretted more in life than meeting the self-proclaimed “World's Greatest Thief,” Rouge. As such, Amy knew she was in for a rant the minute she answered his call at the crack of dawn and heard him utter the bat’s name.

“Rouge is in the news!” he yelled into the receiver.

“Wha…” Amy rubbed her eyes. It was still dark out.

“Haven’t you seen the papers this morning?”

“You get newspapers on Angel Island?” she yawned.

“Turn on the news! This is important!”

“Alright, calm down...” Amy slid out of bed sleepily, still yawning as she flipped her living room TV on and threw herself onto the couch groggily. A news channel was running a segment on an archeological discovery that seemed to be making waves. Amy turned it up so Knuckles could hear on the other end.

“The centuries-old hiding place was found by none other than world-famous treasure hunter, Rouge the Bat. The former jewel thief was hired for her skills-”

“Former jewel thief?! Where are they getting their sources?”

“Quiet, I can’t hear!” Amy raised the volume further to drown out his yelling.

“- the discovery of a lifetime! We had an exclusive interview with the mastermind who helped find this historical treasure. Here’s what she had to say:”

Footage of Rouge sitting in a lavish armchair next to a roaring fireplace followed. “Well, you’ll be interested to hear that this isn’t the famed Captain Scarlett's treasure. It was a personal stash of journals and letters her wife left behind.

The camera cut briefly to a reporter sitting across from her. “And we understand that a possible map to the famous pirate’s real treasure was hidden among this?”

“That’s correct. I spent some days analyzing the documents and discovered they contain instructions on how to reach Captain Scarlett’s treasure. There are some hints as to what’s contained at the site as well. I’ll be sailing there with a crew in a few days!”

“Can you give us an idea of what you believe to find there?”

“Untold riches, of course!” Rouge gave a breathy laugh. “And perhaps some old artifacts- I understand she had an interest in ancient cultures,” she waved dismissively. “We’ll find out soon enough- I’m confident it’ll take no time to navigate there.”

“And we’ll be here on land waiting with bated breath for the historical discovery! Now back to-”

Amy muted the TV, her eyes finally adjusting to the dim early morning light. “So she was hired to find some old pirate treasure? Is that what you’re upset about?”

“The treasure she was hired to find happens to contain an ancient Knuckles Clan artifact! You need to get the others and come to Angel Island right away-”

“You’re mad about the possibility that Rouge will find some antique?” 

“Antique! Amy-” she could hear him trying to restrain himself. “Listen to me, if this ‘treasure’ falls into the wrong hands, it’s going to be a mess to clean up. Get Sonic and Tails and come here as soon as you can. They’re not answering my calls and we need to speak in person.”

Amy groaned. It was far too early to be thinking about a new dangerous adventure- especially when they’d just stopped one of Eggman’s plots less than a week earlier. “Fine… at least let me have some breakfast first.”

“Make it quick!” he hung up.

“And they say I’m bossy,” Amy grumbled to herself. Before long, the sun’s rays shone brightly throughout her house and sleeping in no longer sounded comfortable. With a sigh, she got ready for the unexpected day ahead.

-----

“I never knew there was a catacomb under the altar…” Amy held a lantern out in front of her as she climbed down the steps.

“That’s ‘cause it’s a secret,” Knuckles responded gruffly. “Come on, I shouldn’t have to tell you to hurry it up!!”

Sonic and Tails trailed behind in a sleep-deprived state. They’d stayed up until morning playing games and were just getting to bed when Amy pounded on the lab door to retrieve them. She still wasn’t sure how Tails managed to land the plane on Angel Island. “Relax, Knux…” Sonic rubbed his eyes as he followed behind Amy. 

“I’m gonna fall asleep in here…” Tails yawned.

“No sleeping!” Knuckles sealed the entrance and rushed ahead, leading the way. The rest of the group groaned in unison as they followed. 

As they went, Amy noticed a ladybug had hitched a ride on her shoulder. “Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here.” She picked up the small insect on the end of her finger and continued after Knuckles. After coming down a winding staircase and navigating a series of dark corridors, the team arrived in a small room with walls lined with scrolls and small relics with a hard wooden table in the center. Knuckles lit the torches on the walls and sifted through the contents of a stone shelf. 

“I have a flashlight, you know,” Tails remarked.

“No flashlights! You’ll damage the texts.”

Tails mumbled under his breath. “I suppose lighting them on fire is better…”

“Quiet- look at this.” Knuckles brought out a large, yellowed scroll and a wooden box. Spreading the scroll across the table revealed what appeared to be a map of the ocean. “This is a map to that treasure Rouge is after.”

“Wait,” Amy interrupted, “You have one, too?”

Knuckles nodded. “This is Captain Scarlett’s map.”

Sonic leaned over the scroll. “Scarlett? Isn’t that the famous lady-pirate? Why do you have that?” 

“Because,” Knuckles continued, “300 years ago, that damned pirate plundered the Mystic Ruins for its treasure. This map was found by an Echidna scholar over a century ago and it’s been here ever since.”

“So, this isn’t the first time someone finds part of Scarlett’s treasure?” Tails asked.

Knuckles scoffed. “Hardly. My people have been after that stash of letters that Rouge found for decades. We’ve been trying to keep the contents of ‘Scarlet’s’ treasure a secret since it was discovered what it contains- The Stone Mirror.” The others stared blankly at him, the object he was referring to having no meaning to them. He looked at each of them irately before continuing. “Really? Argh, fine; The Stone Mirror is a powerful artifact that can turn the user into their ‘most desired self’- whatever that means. Apparently, old Scarlett used it 300 years ago to become the world’s best pirate or something.”

“So… you want us to help you look for a magic mirror in the middle of the ocean?” Sonic asked.

Knuckles’ brow twitched. “Did you not just hear what I said? What if Eggman got a hold of this thing?!”

“What’s the big deal? We should be able to fly there-”

“No flying. This map is meant to be navigated by sea. Besides,” Knuckles opened the small box to reveal a compass and a crystal eyepiece. “This map only goes so far. We’ll need these once you get to this point to guide the rest of the way.”

“Let me see that,” Tails took the compass in his hands and waved it around the room. “Does this thing work? It doesn’t even point north.”

“It points to where it has to point once you get here,” Knuckles poked at a red X on the map.

“That literally makes no sense.”

“It’s what the scholar wrote down when she discovered this map!”

As they bickered, Amy carefully picked up the map and held it to the light. As it passed in front of a lantern, writing could be seen across one side of the scroll. The little ladybug that had ridden in on Amy’s shoulder flew onto its surface and crawled around. “Guys, look! There’s something written here.” The boys went silent as they leaned in to get a closer look at the neat cursive script. Amy read it aloud. “Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.”

Sonic shook his head. “This lady sounds lost.”

“Maybe,” said Knuckles, “But our best hope is to follow this map and figure it out from there. And get that bug off the map, would ya?” Amy allowed the little red insect to crawl back onto her hand before replacing the map on the table.

“Yeah, all I’m hearing is we’re gonna get ourselves stranded in the ocean. Count me out.”

“Are you serious?!” 

“No way I’m getting on a boat just to get stuck in the middle of the sea,” Sonic crossed his arms stubbornly. “I’ll stay here and look after the Master Emerald.”

“No fair, why do you get to stay?” Tails complained. “I don’t wanna be on a boat, either!”

“I think it sounds fun,” Amy said, watching as the ladybug crawled around on her palm.

“This isn’t a pleasure cruise!” Knuckles yelled.

Tails’ ears drooped. “I’ll say. Sonic’s right, we’re gonna get lost. Don’t you have that scholar’s notes, Knuckles?”

“No.”

“But you know a little about what she wrote; where are they?”

Knuckles grumbled as he crossed his arms. “There was… a small fire…”

“No kidding,” Tails frowned.

“Bah- Will you help me or not? We need to get on a boat ASAP to beat that bat over there- she has all the same information in those documents she found!”

Rolling his eyes, Tails turned back to the map. “Fine. We can take my boat. But I need to take a better look at this map in some proper lighting.”

“Deal,” said Knuckles. “You in, Ames?”

“You can count on me! I already have our costumes planned out,” Amy giggled.

“Costumes…?” It didn’t feel like much of a deal to Tails, who’d just been roped into steering a boat for the next several days in whatever outlandish outfit Amy would choose for him. He rolled up the scroll begrudgingly and gathered the other trinkets into their box. Knuckles turned out the torches as the team spilled out into the corridor and followed him back up to the surface. They all squinted harshly as the mid-morning sun burned their eyes. 

“Here you go,” Amy told the ladybug, placing it on a small flower. “Hope you find your way back home okay.” She watched it crawl around a bit before spreading its wings and buzzing away happily. She smiled as it flew off, pleased that it was able to make it back to the surface with her help. Once it was out of her sight, Amy joined her friends in making their plans to sail off in the next few days.

The shiny little insect flew and flew, ascending far higher and speeding up to a far quicker pace than any ladybug reasonably should. It continued off the edge of Angel Island, floating high above the land, the sea, then the clouds. It didn’t take the ladybug very long to reach its destination, flying into a tiny steel vent and into a cold, metallic fortress. Once aboard the Egg Carrier, it made its way into a small lab where it landed on a steel desk, ready to address its master.

“It is about time you returned…”

The ladybug spread its wings once more, this time flying into the minuscule port on a computer that topped the desk. A video appeared on the screen that took up the wall ahead, displaying a first-person view from the bug’s perspective. It flew toward Amy Rose, landing on her shoulder just as she descended into a secret passage.

A young boy’s voice was heard. “I’m gonna fall asleep in here…” 

“No sleeping!” a gruff voice responded.

“Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here,” Amy could be heard saying before the view changed to  atop her finger.

“Interesting.” Metal Sonic locked his fingers together, resting his chin over his thumbs as he leaned in to listen closely. “What are our little heroes up to now?”

----

The following morning, Eggman raised a brow as he enjoyed his coffee with the early news. A field reporter was live from a marina where a crime was committed earlier that day. The spot at the docks where a historic pirate ship normally floated was empty.

“They just sailed off in her!” a frantic man said on TV. “We had a wedding planned there for this afternoon! What are we supposed to do now?”

The show cut back to the news anchor. “The historic Royal Fortune, the antique pirate ship that still operates tours and events to this day, was stolen early this morning as the thieves marooned the crew on a nearby sandbar. The criminals are described as armored and wearing black hooded cloaks. If anyone has news regarding her whereabouts-”

“Hmm…” Eggman muted the show as he heard a loud, metallic clanking forming from the corridor.  Metal Sonic strode in from outside the floating fortress with two Silver Sonic Prototypes close behind. All were mysteriously clad in black hooded cloaks as the small minions each carried oversized boxes above their heads.

Eggman leaned back in his chair to look out through the open doorway. “Metal, where were you so early?”

The three robots stopped in their tracks as Metal Sonic turned around to address him momentarily. “Out.” He continued forward without another word.

“I gave you the ability to talk so you could use it, you know,” Eggman grumbled. He took another sip as a loud doorway could be heard opening and shutting down the hall. With a sigh, the old man shook his head, wondering what the dark cloaks were about. Why would they hide their identities to steal the stupid ship? What is he even up to? he asked himself before going back to his coffee.

Once in the privacy of Metal Sonic’s lab, boxes were ripped open and long capes were thrown aside. Metal Sonic stood in front of a full-length mirror examining his freshly painted armor, glittering gold accents reflecting the dull fluorescent lighting. Each of the pint-sized prototypes had received chromatic silver paint jobs as well to differentiate them from the dozen or so other identical bots that performed various tasks around the airship. They both sorted through the boxes, throwing various period garments about the room haphazardly.

Clothes were strewn everywhere by the time Metal Sonic noticed the mess they were making. “I told you two to find me something to wear, not wreck my lab!” The identical minions looked at one another blankly. One of them picked a pair of stays up from in front of him and held for his master to observe. Metal snatched the undergarment from the smaller robot’s clamps and threw it aside. “That is not what I meant!” He picked up a nearby book and ripped it open to a page containing an illustration of a pirate captain. “Find me this,” he pointed at the pirate’s jacket gruffly.

His claw made a loud CLANG against his forehead, saluting Metal before stretching an extendable arm across the room to retrieve a navy coat with gold accents that had been tossed aside. Once in his possession, Metal Sonic draped it over his shoulders and examined his reflection once more. “Hmm… A bit restrictive. H3, scissors.” The other lackey robot took the command, fetching a pair of scissors from a drawer and presenting them to his master. Metal proceeded to chop the coat up into little more than an open vest adorned with golden epaulets draped with tassels at each shoulder. He belted the reconstructed jacket around his waist and stared at his reflection. “What do you think? Missing something?”

The two henchmen examined the book’s illustration again. One of them shot up and dove into one of the boxes, returning with a tricorn cap. He extended his arm and placed the hat atop Metal Sonic’s head while the other clapped his bulky claws together. 

“I don’t know…” Metal rested his hands on his hips pensively. “What are you two wearing?”

H3 and his counterpart, H4, looked toward one another with a shrug. They dug through the pile, each digging out a solid-colored scarf. H3 wrapped his blue one around his head like a bandana while H4 tied a red one to his waist. They looked each other up and down for a few moments before deciding in unison to switch their color choices, H3 snatching the red bandana from his brother and pulling it over his head while H4 made a belt of the blue one after ripping it from atop the other’s head. They high-fived to commemorate the decision, their little clamped hands rattling together as they made contact.

“Fine, fine…” Metal waved them off, glancing back at the book once more. The captain sported a sword at his waist. At the bottom of one of the boxes rested an antique cutlass that resembled the one in the drawing, but dulled at the edge. “Yes… This will do.” He picked up the weapon and brandished it ahead of his body “If Sonic’s friends are dressing for the occasion, so shall we!” he cackled. “H4, make sure this gets sharpened,” he barked as he thrust the sword into the minion's hands. “H3, clean up this mess. I have work to do.”

With that, each of the minions loudly saluted Metal Sonic before attending to their tasks. Metal leaned over his desk as the video of the heroes reappeared on the large screen ahead. He was disappointed to learn that he wouldn’t be facing his rival, Sonic- the coward had decided to stay on land. Metal looked from one of their faces to another before settling on Amy Rose’s cheerful expression. “Yes… She will do.” Metal concocted his plan, reveling in the knowledge that once he obtained the Stone Mirror, he would manifest into a form that not Sonic nor his friends could hope to stand a chance against.

Metal had spent much of the last year spying on Sonic and his friends, waiting for an opportunity when he could be one step ahead. He had grown to resent Eggman and his half-baked plans over the years, existing only as an obstacle to the heroes who always seemed to be prepared. Eggman understood this, or at least knew that Metal had begun taking his own initiative when it came to plotting against his rival. When he caught the robot surveilling the team, he made the decision to encourage him, wanting to take advantage of the part of Metal that could think just like his rival. Soon, Metal had been outfitted with a lab of his own and two henchmen to command. Eggman had upgraded him with the ability to speak and emote more expressly not long after, which Metal found both vexing and enthralling, now taking every opportunity to put his thoughts into words.

But Metal ultimately resented this as well as he had no desire to lean on his master. What he yearned for most greatly was to have the independence and autonomy to act on his own. Though Metal wasn’t disloyal to him, Eggman’s incompetence ironically prevented him from accomplishing his objective of eliminating Sonic. Since then, Metal took what he’d been offered as if a birthright and accepted nothing more, opting to source his own necessities. Everything from research to obtaining materials was to be accomplished by him personally- a task he did not take lightly. And because this was the first- no- the only time he would need to defeat his foes, it only made sense to do it in style. 

Perishing the thought that whatever deep-seated programming compelled him to these theatrics was likely due to Eggman’s own influence, Metal had gotten to work studying the life of pirate legend Captain Scarlett. Metal did a poor job at hiding the excitement that befell him as he read everything he could process that regarded pirating. Perhaps it was the high stakes and endless freedom the seafaring criminals seemed to command- and what a very “Sonic” thing to be attracted to. He laughed to himself about his organic counterpart’s apparent fear of the ocean.

Then again, it was probably just the dramatic aesthetics.

The old pirate captain had a flair for the dramatic herself. Metal’s research showed that she often left secret messages in her documents such as the one discovered by Amy Rose in that map of theirs, as well as the letters that had been uncovered. Many of the “mysteries” uncovered through time appeared to be rudimentary puzzles really, it was bewildering how the treasure had remained hidden for so long. Still, he didn’t have a map of his own, and tailing the heroes would only get him so far. Metal knew from past experience that the bubbly girl was rather sympathetic. A savior complex, he thought as he studied his past interactions with her. She was the perfect pawn to manipulate into leading him right to the Stone Mirror. 

The video was paused on a frame of Amy and her sunny smile. He recalled their first meeting when he captured her and how helpless she had been; But the girl had grown strong over the years, impressing even him with her combat technique. Amy decidedly wasn’t one to be taken lightly anymore, and he would have to be cautious. The compassion she showed towards most creatures was her real weakness, one that was easy to take advantage of. He played back a compilation of videos he’s taken of Amy Rose; her beaming complexion, the charismatic giggle in her voice, the tender pleading in her eyes…

None of that matters! He shook the thought from his head. What he really needed to understand were the driving factors behind her empathy. What could he use against her? He fast-forwarded to a scene of her and the rest of the group reminiscing about past adventures.

On-screen, Amy sat between Sonic and Tails in the sand, all enjoying an afternoon together at the beach. Knuckles could be heard off-screen. “Yeah, I still can’t believe Amy convinced that robot to let her go! What was it called again?”

“His name was Gamma. Honestly, he was able to think for himself after we became friends- it didn’t take much to convince him that he could disobey Eggman if he wanted to.” she twirled the front of her spines bashfully.

Sonic laughed. “Well good thing you made friends with him! I nearly turned him to scrap metal.”

“Come on, he did a lot of good before… you know.” There was some sadness in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Sonic agreed. “Hey, maybe you could convince Egg-head to do some good for once, too.” 

Metal paused the video as they laughed together. “He did a lot of good.” Yes, Metal knew exactly how to get the sweet girl on his side- he was confident it wouldn’t take much convincing on his part, either. 

The lab door was suddenly slammed open. “H4, what have I told you about-” Metal paused, faced not with his lackey but with a very animated Eggman.

“Metal! I just saw H4’s new paint job- excellent work! We should outfit all the prototypes with it,” he bellowed. 

Narrowing his eyes, Metal turned back toward the screen to brood silently.

Eggman took a few steps into the room before continuing. “Tell me, though, what’s with all the pirate outfits? You putting on a show?” he feigned ignorance over the stolen ship and nudged the box closest to him with his foot. H3 popped his head out from the pile of clothes within with a clanky salute. “This one too, eh? I like the look.” There was no response from Metal but the quickening hum of his turbine as he grew annoyed at the interruption. “That hat will probably impede your hearing, though…”

He continued taking steps into the room, stopping just behind Metal to join him in looking at the screen ahead. It was still paused on a still of Amy looking cheerful. “Studying our heroes again, are we? You sure seem to like this one... She’s pretty cute.”

Metal whipped around to face him once again, this time with blazing eyes. “What are you-”

“I bet you could kidnap her again easily,” Eggman interrupted with a grin and a snap of his fingers.

“Get out!” Metal roared, rising from his seat.

Eggman laughed heartily. “Alright, alright- tell me if you need anything for your little production!”

As the scientist turned on his heel and made his way back toward the open door, H4 was scuttling in with the now sharpened cutlass held carelessly above him. He came to a skidding halt at the sight of Eggman, bringing his hand up to his forehead and dropping the sword noisily on the steel floor in the process. The man cackled at him, bending down to pick up the weapon and examine it. “Nice sword, not that you need it. Teach your lackeys to be a little more careful with sharp objects, hm?” Eggman tossed the sword to Metal, who caught it effortlessly, rolling his eyes.

“... Fine.” he finally responded before taking his seat again and swiveling back toward the giant monitor. He shut off the program that played back the videos.

“Atta boy.” With that, Eggman made his way out of the room. H4 shot out his arm, slamming his claw against a button that shut the door behind him.

The sword gleamed in the harsh lighting as Metal held it up to inspect. Eggman was correct, of course- Metal didn’t need a weapon- he was one. But the added flourish couldn’t hurt, he thought as he swung it through the air, a small WHIP whispering across the room each time he waved it. Metal wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but his creator had a point about his interest in Amy Rose, as well...

An alert flashed on the screen ahead before he could be forced to think about it. “GPS Tracker Activated”. A map popped up showing a blinking red dot, indicating the location of Tails’ boat.

“Finally…” Metal stood, raising a foot on his chair and brandishing the cutlass proudly. “Prepare the ship- we sail at dawn!”

-----

Amy yawned as she got dressed the following morning. The TV was tuned to the news, where a reporter was commenting on the authorities’ inability to find any leads in the case of the Royal Fortune’s theft. “Weird…” Amy remarked to herself out loud. She was tying a blue ascot around the collar of her dress- a white, long-sleeved piece with blue stripes at the hem and cuffs. She had purchased the sailor suit impulsively with the hopes of going sailing leisurely with her friends, but she supposed a maritime mission was occasion enough. 

Hearing the whistle of a boat in the distance, she quickly pinned on her hat and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. She lived on the beach and the boys had agreed to meet her there before sailing off. The whistle howled once more and she hurried out of her little shack, running toward the shore. “I’m here already! Quit hollering,” she grumbled. A steel ladder was lowered and she tossed her bag for Knuckles to catch before climbing her way up.

The boat was nothing like the pirate ship she’d seen on TV that morning. It was a sleek white vessel with blue chrome accents that glittered in the early sunlight. The small yacht was equipped with every manner of boating technology that Tails could cram onto it. A door beneath the elevated helm opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down to the main quarters. Knuckles lugged Amy’s bag over his shoulder, beckoning her to the opening.

“Wait! Before you put that away…” Amy unzipped the front pocket.

Knuckles grumbled. “Before I put it away?”

“Yes, thank you for that,” she chuckled, pulling out a pair of themed hats- a sailor’s cap similar to her own, and a white service cap with gold accents. “I figured you guys would prefer these to clothes.”

“Hmm,” Knuckles examined the headwear as she unfurled each one and held them up. “I suppose a captain’s hat would be fitting…” he reached out to take it from her when Tails suddenly interrupted.

“Uh, my ship- If anyone’s captain, it’s me.”

With an incredulous look, Knuckles turned his chin up to address him. “My mission, my hat- I’m captain. You’re navigating.”

“Oh and I suppose this boat’s gonna steer itself?” Tails said in a mocking tone.

“You think I don’t know how to drive a boat?” Knuckles was yelling now.

“Like I’d let you even if you could.”

“Alright,” Amy interrupted, “That’s enough- we have to be on this boat together for the next week. You two better get along!” 

“Fine,” Knuckles crossed his arms. “Who do you think should be captain?”

“Tails,” she responded without hesitation.

“What?!”

Tails snickered from above. “Do you even have a boating license, Knuckles?”

His expression of rage quickly turned blank. His teammates both watched as the gears seemed to turn in his head. “... No.”

Amy and Tails both broke out into a fit of laughter. Knuckles snatched the sailor’s cap from her hand and stomped down the stairs with the duffel bag, grumbling choice words under his breath. “Here you go,” she tossed the captain’s hat up to Tails.

“Thank you,” he smirked triumphantly. “We’re ready to go- let’s let Sonic know before we sail off.” Amy made her way up and stood by him as Tails made a video call on a tablet. Sonic appeared on it a moment later.

“Yo,” he winked. “Looking good, guys.”

“Thank you,” Amy giggled bashfully.

“We’re about to sail,” Tails interjected before she could start chatting. “Everything good on your end?”

“Yep, just me and the Master Emerald. Pretty boring…”

“Don’t let Knuckles hear you say that.”

The three shared a chuckle before Amy and Tails waved to Sonic and signed off. The boat’s ladder ascended from the sand as Tails made the final preparations to sail. Knuckles reemerged from the doorway below as the vessel began moving, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“Where’s your uniform, skipper?” Tails chortled, noticing that he hadn’t donned the white and blue cap.

“Watch it,” he threatened, eyes fixed on the horizon.

As the boat slid away from the shore and into the open ocean, Tails and Amy chuckled to themselves, ready for the adventure ahead. Unbeknownst to them, however, they weren’t the only ones tracking their whereabouts.

Back at the Egg Carrier, Metal and his lackeys were getting ready to mobilize.

The three bots snuck out of the lab and through the steel corridors, making sure to fly to keep noise to a minimum. It was dark- Eggman either wasn’t up or was too fixated on his work to notice them anyway. Once they reached the outdoor deck, each landed on the edge for a moment, H3 and H4 awaiting commands. “We will stay off their radar by remaining some distance away, and intercept them at this first meeting spot,” Metal explained. “But we need to catch up. Now, to the ship!”

But before he could lift off, a mechanical squeaking caught Metal’s attention from behind. He turned his vision to the distraction, claws outstretched in case someone was trying to stop him. His gaze was met by that of another Silver Sonic Prototype, who then imitated the awkward saluting motion the other two greeted their masters with. Metal narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously but lowered his guard. “What is the meaning of this?”

The small robot seemed to pull a yellow bandana from out of nowhere and quickly tied it below his muzzle, looking back up at Metal Sonic with his permanent sly grin. Metal scratched his chin pensively. “You wish to join us?” The prototype’s joints squeaked as it bobbed its head quickly and violently, causing Metal to slap his hand atop it like he was hitting a switch. “Enough! You’ll alert the others. Hm… State your serial number.” He lifted his right foot to reveal a string of numbers written on the sole, the last of which were “H1.”

“Ah, the very first…” Metal processed the unexpected interruption for a moment. He didn’t know how the robot had discovered his intentions, but there wasn’t much time to lose. At this point taking the additional support with him would at least keep word from getting to Eggman if H1 made a fuss. Metal supposed he could just deactivate him and toss him overboard, but…

“Very well, you may join me... But your outfit needs work. I’ll brief you on the ship- move!” 

H1 threw its hands in the air with excitement, the four of them taking off. Metal Sonic lead the charge to the ship anchored about a mile away as they shot down through the high clouds. 

-----

“Are we there yet?” Amy groaned from a lounge seat on the upper deck. The excitement from that morning had slowly turned to a boring exhaustion as the day dragged on. It was impossibly hot- the sun’s rays intensified by the inescapable humidity. The sun would be setting in another hour and they’d all been up since dawn, but Amy was the wariest.

“You know this is gonna take days, right?” Tails yawned. He had joined her on the deck while the boat was on auto-pilot, not intending to change direction for some time.

“I thought this first place was supposed to be close…”

“Yeah, it’s only a 12-hour boat ride,” he shrugged sarcastically. “But who knows how far the actual treasure is?”

“You two need to stop your belly-aching, you’re already getting on my nerves.” Knuckles was seated cross-legged on the roof of the helm. The others were sure he’d bake to death.

“Easy for you to say, all you do all day is sit around!” Amy huffed. 

Tails checked his tablet, which he’d equipped with a navigator. “We’re actually pretty close… We’ll be coming up on these coordinates in about 20 minutes.” 

Amy stretched her arms in an attempt to liven herself up. “Great! Then we have to figure out this weird puzzle…”

“I’m sure it’ll be obvious once we’re there,” said Knuckles. Tails couldn’t help but think he sounded awfully confident for someone who had no idea how to navigate.

“Hey, what is that…?” Tails hurried to take a pair of binoculars from his equipment and ran to the bow, staring into the horizon. The others listened in, Amy sitting up in the chair and squinting her eyes ahead. “Uh, there’s another boat over there… a big one.” The team all scrambled to the front of the boat, trying to look through the binoculars at once. A bright white ship could be seen in the distance- at least three times the size of Tail’s boat but just as modern. As they inched closer, some of the crew could be seen pacing around the main deck.

“Give me those,” Knuckles snatched away the binoculars for himself, zooming in on the ship’s bow as close as he could get them to focus. “You have got to be kidding me…”

“Rouge.” The woman he considered his arch-rival was sauntering about the bow of her ship, the stitched-together map in hand as she conversed with some crewmates. Two men each lugging a huge camera over their shoulder stood on either side of them. Amy and Tails groaned upon hearing Knuckles utter her name with disdain, knowing the squabbling that would come next. He watched as she squinted in the direction of their boat once they were in view of one another.

Tails brought his vessel in close to her ship, which towered above theirs. Rouge had to lean over the side railing to look down at the team. “Oh my, what is it you want?” she frowned.

Knuckles raised a foot to rest on a railing of his own. “We’re after Scarlett’s treasure, and you’re in our way.”

“I mean, they’re not really in our way,” Tails grumbled. “Can you take your foot down from there?”

“Quiet,” Knuckles held a palm up to him, chin still pointed up at Rouge.

One of the cameramen leaned over next to her, pointing his recording device directly at Knuckles. Rouge continued with a smirk. “It looks like we have some competition- not that they stand a chance at finding it before I do.”

Knuckles squinted. “What’s with the cameras?”

“Cameras?” Amy skipped over next to him and waved up at the ship. “Are you guys making a movie?”

“A documentary,” Rouge nodded. “And you look so cute. What do you think of this?” Rouge batted her wings and flew up to hover just above the railing, the camera following her as she did. She wore a brocade bustier over a lacey flared-sleeve linen blouse and fitted black trousers tucked into leather boots. She looked like a true pirate.

“Oh,” Amy beamed, “Gorgeous!”

Knuckles raised his voice as his vexation grew. “What the hell is happening? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Aesthetic,” she shrugged. “And how did you find this place, anyway? Are you tracking us?”

“I’ll have you know that treasure you’re after contains sacred Knuckles Tribe artifacts, and we have Captain Scarlett’s original map.” Knuckles crossed his arms confidently.

“No kidding?” Rouge pouted. “Well, good luck- we’ve been here for hours and can’t figure out where we’re supposed to go from here.”

“Typical!” Knuckles shot back.

“Hmph- If you’re so knowledgeable, hotshot, let’s see you navigate from here!” Rouge flew off out of sight with the cameraman on her heels.

“Whatever-” Knuckles marched up to the helm where Tails had already begun studying the map. “So... where do we go from here?”

“Beats me…” he shrugged.

“Are you serious?”

Amy joined them, picking up the crystal eyeglass and bringing it to her eye. She expected it to magnify things, but it didn’t appear to be a telescope. “Well, this has to have something to do with it. Hmm…” 

“Don’t forget the compass.” Tails brought it up to eye-level. “It’s pointing south by south-west. Weird.”

“What did the map say again?”

Tails held it up to the light, reading aloud. “‘Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.’ Whatever that means…”

“‘Sky above turned’... Like, turned to night?” Amy raised the eyepiece up high. The soft blue sky turned an intense shade of cobalt when viewed through the glass. “Ohhh, how pretty,” she remarked. “Glassy eyes…” Amy turned to tails with a gasp.

“The eyeglass!” they said in unison.

“But do we have to look up at the sky during the nighttime then?” Tails scratched his chin.

“I don’t think we’ll see much at night with this thing- it just turns everything blue.”

Knuckles took it from her, glancing through it with one eye. “What’s this even for?” 

“I thought it was a spyglass, but it doesn’t magnify anything. It’s just a blue glass at the end.”

“That’s useless…” The three of them pondered on it as the sun neared the horizon. It would be dark soon- they didn’t want to be stuck there trying to figure it out overnight. Both teams were so deep in contemplation that they hardly noticed a third object approaching on their radar until it could be seen in the distance.

“Is that a pirate ship?” Rouge could be heard from her ship’s deck. She flew up to get a better look through a telescope. “Do you guys have anything to do with this?” she accused.

“Uh, definitely not” Tails answered, glancing through his own binoculars. He zoomed in as far as the lenses allowed. A lanky figure with a spiky head could just barely be made out. “Is that… Sonic?”

“What? Gimme those,” Amy yanked them away from him to look. “Hey- isn’t that the pirate ship that was stolen yesterday?” 

“You’re right!” Rouge shouted. “And that does look like Sonic…”

Amy gasped in realization. “That’s not Sonic… That’s Metal Sonic.” 

“Oh great, now we gotta deal with Eggman, too?” Knuckles groaned. “What could he want?”

The ship was fast approaching. Rouge shouted orders at her crew, instructing them to ready their weapons. The TV crew scrambled around frantically, trying to catch all the action. Amy and Knuckles looked at Tails expectantly, not having anticipated getting into a battle at sea.

“I got this. Everyone get close!” Amy gathered the map, eyepiece, and compass and held onto them tightly as they scurried together at the helm. Tails entered a set of commands and the boat began to separate in two, bisected vertically to make way for an enormous cannon that rose from beneath the deck. The helm was raised up and back, a shield forming around it like a cockpit. “Knuckles, cannon. Amy, be on the lookout from the starboard and stem. I’ll keep an eye on the port side while I steer.” 

“Roger!” they shouted in unison. 

Metal Sonic’s ship approached from the south, circling around both vessels as it came close. “Ahoy!” his voice came shouting out of a speaker. He cackled as his opponents all seemed to look to one another with bewilderment.

“Could he always talk?” Tails asked his friends. 

Amy shuttered. “Not always…”

Rouge’s voice was amplified by a megaphone as she flew above her ship’s bow to address Metal Sonic. “Tell us what The Doctor is up to!”

“‘The Doctor’ has nothing to do with this. I’m here for her,” he extended a long, spiked claw to point directly at Amy, who jumped at the announcement. 

“Wh- Me?” 

“Yes, you. Now come, join my crew!” His hand closed into a fist as he made the demand. No one was more dumbfounded than Amy. At a loss for words, she looked incredulously at Metal Sonic. “Well, come on, I haven’t got all night.”

Shaking her head of the confusion, Amy finally answered. “Uh… no thanks?”

Everyone turned their attention back to Metal. He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms behind him authoritatively. “Are you sure?”

All eyes shifted back to Amy. She was red as a tomato at all the attention. “P-positive…”

“Hm, very well.” Metal took some steps back onto the deck of the Royal Fortune, turning away from the others. Rouge held a hand back to her crew, a few of whom stood on the deck behind her with rifles. Tails and Amy glanced at one another while Knuckles held his fighting stance. Then, Metal spoke again. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.” 

Without warning, a cannon exploded in the direction of Tails’ boat. The three hit the deck as the cannon fodder made contact and shook the vessel. Rouge’s crew opened fire on Metal Sonic’s ship, making bullet holes in the old wood but leaving the robot unaffected as the ammunition bounced off his body. He gave her a look of boredom.

The sun began to set as it all unfolded, casting a deep ruby light over the environment. Amy struggled to find her balance and retrieve the eyepiece and compass that had rolled around the floor at the collision. The compass slipped out of her grip, too, sliding down the deck just beside the glass. She moved to snatch both pieces up but stopped when she noticed something glowing upon the compass in the light that reflected from the eyepiece. Picking them up carefully, Amy brought the spyglass up to look at the compass through. Drawn across the arrow was another arrow, pointing in the opposite direction. It illuminated as she looked at it through the glass and disappeared otherwise. “‘Sky turned…’ Oh! Scarlett!” The intense red light cast from the sunset had combined with the blue filter on the glass to reveal the otherwise hidden image. Upon turning the compass around, Amy found some text on the back in the same glowing lettering. 

“Amy, move!” Knuckles shouted from behind. She didn’t have time to react before she felt a metallic coil snake around her waist and pull her backward. It wasn’t a cannonball that Metal Sonic had fired, it was one of his minions, H3 with his extendable arms. Amy screamed as she suddenly lurched away.

“Hang on-” Tails commanded, turning the cannon sharply and causing the vessel to shutter again. H3 struggled to maintain his balance until Knuckles came up on his side and smashed a fist into his head, sending the bot flying off the side of the boat. He released Amy instinctually, using his arms to latch onto the railing instead.

Amy landed on her feet, the artifacts still in hand. “Tails, the compass! Look!” 

“Little busy!” Tails was turning the wheel at the helm frantically, trying to swing the cannon back around to fire back at Metal Sonic. 

“We have to hurry before the sun goes down! We need the red light!” She ran back to the safety of the helm, where the shield protected them from the front. The cannon charged as she scrambled to read the inscription aloud in the dimming light. “‘The Mirror’s bloodlust was nothing to me, for I’d have bled myself dry for you.’ Huh? Hey, this mentions the mirror-” 

Tails pulled the trigger then, expecting some kickback from the blast. Instead, the entire front of the vessel was launched upward, the shot deflected into the sky; something had come up beneath them, turning the boat up and threatening to sink it. Everyone aboard lost their balance as the boat listed back. Tails managed to hold on by the helm and Knuckles by a side railing, but Amy was sent sliding down, shrieking as she rolled overboard off the stern. 

Metal Sonic looked on in a panic as it unfolded. “Nooo!” his eyes blazed down at whatever had emerged from the sea to cause the collision. A huge steel submarine sat with its nose just under the front of the boat. “Aaaaargh!” he roared in realization. The logo plastered on each side of it gave it away- it belonged to Dr. Eggman.

“Attack!” the command could be heard coming from the half-submerged vessel. Two oversized badniks emerged from the water, a crablike robot that crawled up the side of the submarine and began blasting at Rouge’s ship, and another shaped like a torpedo made to resemble a shark which hurdled itself toward Tails’ boat, causing it to shake and list further.

“Amy! Knuckles!” Tails shouted. He was able to kick himself off and fly, taking the map as he looked for his friends.

“Over here,” Knuckles called. He reached up for Tails’ hand. “Where’s Amy?”

As she finally emerged from the water, Amy coughed and waved her arm up frantically. Spotting her, Rouge flew overhead. “I’ve got her!”

“No, you don’t,” Metal Sonic flew into Rouge’s side, kicking her out of the air and into the water with a grunt. He made his way to Amy, lifting her by the arm out of the murky water. She coughed and sputtered, but clutched onto both the compass and spyglass with her other hand. He pulled her up further to hold by the waist at his side as he circled his way around to pick up H3, still dangling off the side of Tails’ boat. He narrowly missed a direct hit from the shark badnik when it leaped out of the water for another hit.

“Be more careful! You are not to hit Metal Sonic!” Eggman’s voice screeched from the submarine.

Metal flew over it on his way back to the ship. “Why are you here?!” 

Amy had begun struggling under Metal Sonic’s grip, threatening to hurdle herself back into the ocean. “Let me go! I don’t want to join your weird crew!”

“Stop your squirming! Do you have a death wish?” Just as he finished the statement, Amy wormed her way out from under his arm and fell headfirst toward the water. Thinking fast, Metal chucked H3 toward his ship with a CLANG and dove for her. He was just quick enough to catch the girl before she fell in again, supporting her back and legs against him tightly; she wasn’t going to get out of this one so easily.

“What do you even want with me?” she yelled, trying to push away from him in vain.

Metal looked down at her, forcing eye contact. “... I need you.” He tried to sound sincere.

“What-” 

Bullets began raining down on them now that they were directly across from Rouge’s ship. Metal pulled Amy’s body in, deflecting the fire. “Is anyone here sane?!” Amy actually made an effort to cling to him now, drawing her knees as close as she could muster.

“Stop firing, you idiots, he has the girl!” Rouge wailed, finally hovering up and recovering from her run-in with Metal Sonic. “Are you trying to get her killed?!” She landed on the front of the submarine and swung her leg down on the crab robot’s face, splitting it in two. Meanwhile, Knuckles threw his fist into the side of the other badnik and rendered it useless as it flopped back into the water. Tails carried him up to the deck of the ship with Rouge not far behind. 

Metal flew into the hole in the side of the ship from which the cannon stuck out, allowing him to take them out of harm’s way faster. He dropped her harshly on her behind once they were inside. “H4, H1, make sure she doesn’t escape,” he commanded before flying up toward the main deck. 

“Ouch! Hey, wait- what do you want with me?” Amy got on her feet and was ready to chase after him when a pair of snaky appendages started winding themselves around her. “Not... again!” she wiggled out an arm, summoning her hammer; but another clawed hand shot out and knocked it from her grip, confining her before she could retrieve it. There was no squirming away now. “Metal! Get back down here and tell these things to let me gooo!” she screeched before one of H1’s arms coiled over her mouth like a muffler.

On deck, Metal Sonic hoisted the sails and began navigating away from the battle. Eggman had stuck his head out of the top of the submarine, waving at him. “Great work, Metal! I’ll hold them off.” the old man just barely dodged one of Rouge’s bullets before scurrying back in.

Enraged by The Doctor’s presence, Metal was tempted to disobey and continue fighting out of spite- but he had what he’d come for. Resenting the “help,” he blasted “Stay out of this!” at Eggman as his ship sailed into the darkening horizon.

-----

 In the aftermath of the battle, Rouge tramped around the ship shouting orders with cameramen on her heels. Eggman escaped once Metal Sonic had enough of a lead. Now, one of the ship‘s engines was badly damaged and engineers were sent down to make what repairs they could while Tails and Knuckles were given towels to dry off with. They sat in the enclosed cockpit discussing their next steps.

“I can’t believe they sunk my boat…” Tails was sitting with his head in his hands sorrowfully, lamenting the loss of his tech. “All that equipment…”

Knuckles sat with his arms crossed, grumbling. “Yeah, and now we have no chance of getting to the treasure before Rouge…” She marched into the room just then, slamming the door behind her and locking out the camera crew with a huff. Raising a brow, Knuckles addressed her. “Speak of the devil…”

“Don’t start!” she shot back at him. “I just saved your sorry behinds from being stranded at sea. I’m dropping you off at the next port-of-call, so don’t get too comfortable!” Rouge had a towel draped over her shoulders but hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes. She was getting goosebumps in the cool, air-conditioned room.

“We’re stopping? But we need to get to that treasure before Metal Sonic and save Amy!” Tails protested.

She marched up to the helm and pointed at several flashing indicator lights. “We can hardly go anywhere right now. Half the ship is under duress and we need to stop somewhere for repairs. I’m waiting for a tow.” Crossing her arms, she turned away from the pair. “And you are not part of my crew- we’re leaving you ashore.”

“Like hell you are!” Knuckles stomped over to her, placing a gruff hand on her shoulder. She was not amused, slapping it away from her.

“Hands off! Or would you rather we throw you overboard now?”

“And you’re fine with just abandoning Amy, then?”

With a gasp, Rouge whirled around again, hiding the shame on her face. “What do you want me to do? The ship’s barely operational, and I have a crew to think about…”

Knuckles grumbled but didn’t have a response. He hated to admit it, but she was right- they needed a ship to catch up to Metal Sonic, and theirs wouldn’t make it far.

“Can I take a look at the damage, Rouge?” Tails chimed in. They both looked back at him, then at each other.

Rouge shrugged with a slight shiver. “Fine- you probably know better than my best engineer anyway…”

“No doubt,” Knuckles retorted. “Go change, would ya? You look like you’re freezing.” 

“Hmph!” she glared at him. Picking up a microphone, she pressed a button that called the engine room. “I’m sending another engineer down, you are to do what he asks.” Once she received confirmation, Rouge slammed her own compass and eyeglass on the counter atop her map. “And figure this out!” With that, she was off, out a side door and into her quarters. The door shut harshly behind her.

“Hm.” Knuckles leaned back on the wall. “Now the question is, where do we go from here?”

“We’ll need a red light to find out. Come on,” Tails snatched up the items she’d left behind and beckoned his friend to join him in the engine room.

“A red-? Huh?”

Ignoring their questions as they went, Tails and Knuckles weaved around the camera crew that still lingered outside the room and headed down into the ship’s depths.

Some miles away, Amy’s muffled yelling could be heard below the deck of Metal Sonic’s ship. He descended the stairs slowly, stopping in front of her. He made a motion as if to clear his throat and addressed the girl. “Apologies for the restraints. I thought you might be liable to tear the ship apart otherwise.” He signaled for H1 to unwrap his arm, allowing her to speak freely.

“I’ll tear you apart first!” she writhed under the metal coils to no avail.

“If you don’t settle down, we will just have to wait for you to tire yourself out,” he shrugged. “And you’ll find there’s nowhere to go at sea but down- so I’d be careful about threatening the captain.”

Amy huffed and puffed but couldn’t get out from under the weight of so many restraints. Panting, she finally relented, raising her intense glare at him. “What do you want?”

Metal let out a mechanical “sigh,” as if exasperated. He stood with his hands at his hips, leaning forward slightly. “I do not wish to harm you…” It wasn’t a lie- not yet, anyway. “I’ll cut to the chase: I am after the Stone Mirror-”

“And why would I help you with that?”

“Silence!” he commanded. Amy scoffed, turning her head away. “Now... Why don’t we speak in private, hm?” With a snap of his metallic fingers, the heavy arms all snaked away from Amy, putting her down on her feet gingerly. She gazed from bot to bot with caution. Metal pointed at the wooden staircase with both arms. “After you.”

“Hmph!” Carefully, Amy made her way past each of Metal Sonic’s minions and then himself. They began up the stairs while he followed her closely. He looked away for a moment to signal something to the others; Amy saw an opening. In an instant, her hammer appeared in her fist as she swung around to smash it into the side of his face, knocking him off the third step and onto the floor. 

Metal Sonic shook his head violently as the light in his left eye flickered. Unfortunately for Amy, it didn’t actually impair his vision and he managed to catch up to her in a manner of seconds. H3 was already whipping his arms around and charging at Amy when Metal Sonic came up from behind to restrain her. “H3, stop at once!” The small henchmen dove onto his back at the sudden command, sliding across the deck with his extended arms dangling behind. He crashed into a beam feet-first, causing it to rattle. 

Kicking and flailing, Amy was only able to bring her weapon down behind her, repeatedly hammering the top of Metal’s head. “Let! Me! Go!”

“What do you even plan to do once you ‘destroy’ me? I told you, there’s nowhere to go- And stop the incessant hammering!” He pulled one of his arms away from her, seizing her hammer and chucking it overboard. The repeated hits to the head finally took out the LEDs in his left eye as it went out completely. He pushed her away and she turned back to him. To his surprise, the giant mallet was already back in her grip when she did. “What- How? Why?!”

Amy was breathing heavily, holding her hammer to her front defensively. Realistically, she knew he was right- even if she managed to take him and the others out, she’d just be lost at sea. Maybe he really wasn’t trying to hurt her… he had asked that smaller robot to stop attacking, after all. But Amy couldn’t see what good giving him access to the Stone Mirror would do. “What do you want with the mirror, anyway?” she asked, doubting he’d give a straight answer.

Metal Sonic straightened up into a neutral pose, smoothing down his lapel. His glare softened as an eyelid cast down over his functioning eye. “I shall tell you… After you stop dripping all over my deck.” Amy winced, realizing how sopping wet she still was from her dip in the ocean. Saltwater dripped from her quills and dress and had begun to puddle at her feet. “There’s a change of clothes in my quarters. Will you stop being combative and listen?”

Lowering her hammer- but not putting it away- Amy nodded reluctantly. “You first this time.”

“... Very well.” Metal Sonic led the way across the elevated deck to a set of double doors, opening one and motioning for Amy to enter. She hung back suspiciously. Metal rolled the eye he had left and entered first, allowing her to close the door behind them. Once inside, he plopped down on a large armchair, propping his feet up on the wooden table in front of him. “I’ve set something out for you there,” he pointed at an antique screen in the corner of the room. “Try not to take all night.”

Amy’s glare didn’t stray until she was safely behind the screen, when she put away her hammer. There was a frilled white blouse and ankle-length maroon skirt hanging beside some black stockings and red boots. A towel hung over the screen. Is he serious? She hesitated for a moment, wondering how she ever ended up in such a scenario, playing dress-up for one of her worst enemies. But the situation was hopeless if she didn’t comply. She just had to play along and wait for backup for the time being…

After 10 minutes of waiting, Metal grew impatient. “Do you need assistance?” he mocked.

“No!” Amy emerged a moment later, awkwardly shoving the bottom of the shirt into the bell-shaped skirt. She’d slipped the compass and spyglass into each of her sleeves in the absence of pockets. “Thanks for the clothes or whatever, but why this?”

Ignoring her question, Metal stood and approached her. She took a step back. “Hm… Needs accessories.” His heavy steps clopped against the hardwood floor as Metal strode to another box of costumes. He dug out a set of square scarves and made his way back to where she stood, as non-threateningly as possible. Standing silently, Amy crossed her arms over the front of her body; she didn’t know what to expect. “Would you try these on?”

Amy was in disbelief. What did he want with her that required such a costume? She took the large square of fabric from him and examined them, unsure what she was meant to do. “Uh…”

“Allow me.” Metal held out an unassuming arm. The annoyance on Amy’s face was clear as she placed them back in his hand and brought her hands up to her hips impatiently. “Lift your arms.”

“What?”

“These go around your waist. Now, lift your arms.”

She did what he asked with a grumble, gasping as he tightened each of them around her and tied the ends into forceful knots. Metal took a step back and admired her outfit. “Yes, very ‘pirate,’ don’t you think?” He motioned to a floor mirror across the room.

“I guess…” Keeping his reflection in her sights, Amy walked over to it. She was incredibly weirded out by his insistence, but supposed it could have been worse…

Her captor’s reflection grew nearer as he came up next to her, examining his face. “You really did a number on my eye; I’m impressed. But I wonder if it’ll affect…” 

“Hrm- I put on your silly outfit, now will you tell me what you want?”

The single burning eye on his face shot at her briefly. Rather than frightened, the girl seemed irritated at the situation. He measured her heart rate- it was consistent with that of a person at rest now. Her behavior was almost admirable. “It is only fair,” he said, taking a seat back at the table. “Sit.”

 “Is the word ‘please’ in your vocabulary?” she spat back.

Another eye-roll from Metal. “Please… sit.” Amy complied. She squirmed a bit as she sat, feeling restrained by the many layers around her midsection. She wondered silently if that was part of his plan. “The Stone Mirror. It allows one to become their ‘most desired self,’ is that correct?”

There was no way Metal Sonic should have known that. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

His eye narrowed at her. “Fine- I will be honest. I know this only from spying on you and your friends. I have nothing to hide.”

“Is admitting it supposed to make it better?”

“No… I suppose not.” He leveraged himself against the table to stand. That glowing eye followed Amy as he paced around the perimeter of the table until he stopped at her side. “I know what the mirror is capable of, and I would like your help to retrieve it.” Leaning back on the table, he pointed at the cuffs of her sleeves. “The compass, if you will…” 

“You still haven’t told me why you kidnapped me.”

There was a silent pause. Metal locked his gaze with hers and softened his tone. “You are a compassionate person, Amy Rose. I believe you will understand my need to obtain this artifact.”

“Which is?”

He feigned another sigh. “I am growing tired of being under The Doctor’s command. He has given me some freedom, but…” Looking up, he crossed his arms defensively. “What I am most interested in is my autonomy.” His “acting” would have been impeccable if what he was saying was at all a lie. He hadn’t gotten around to his scheme yet.

“Okay…” The frown on her face told him she was listening, but still wary.

“I do not believe I will be able to achieve that in this form, you see.”

“So, what form are you trying to take? Another giant monster?”

“An organic form,” he responded simply.

Amy was taken aback. “A… A what?” Metal’s engine hummed in the quiet air. He began moving again, circling behind Amy, who didn’t take her eyes off him until he stopped on her other side. She wanted to stare at him intensely, to show that she wasn’t letting her guard down, but there was an impossible longing on his face. It was hard to look directly at him.

“It’s simple- I am a robot. I have an advanced AI far beyond that of others like me, but… There is something missing. This body, although immortal and perfect in design, seems to weigh me down.” He knelt down beside her so he was no longer looming, believing it made him appear more humble. “I wish to think for my own… to feel.” 

The moment was uncomfortable. Amy recoiled slightly when he’d come down, trying in vain to avoid locking eyes with him. He sounded so sincere. How could it be possible? “Wh- Why didn’t you just take the compass and run? Why did you have to bring me?”

“I took you so your friends wouldn’t attack me directly and spoil my plans.”

“So I’m a shield?”

“Not quite. I could have taken anyone- I chose you because,” he reached a hand out, gently taking hold of one of hers. She snatched it back with a glare. “Hm. I chose you because I believed you would understand my need and if the necessity arose, you could help me convince your team... I suppose I was mistaken,” he pushed himself upright.

“Wait,” Amy felt like she would regret it, but her good nature didn’t allow her to walk away from someone who seemed so desperate to change for the better- especially an enemy. “Can you… really not be free like this? You seem to have your own will…”

The trap was working. Metal found it easier to keep up the charade than he originally thought. “My thoughts and feelings are simulated. Would you feel ‘free’ if someone could reprogram you and take your memories at any moment?”

“Does… does Eggman do that?”

“... He has.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Oh,” Amy breathed. She held onto her wrists tightly, feeling for the compass and spyglass. This could all be a trap, she could be walking to her doom, and yet… “How do I know you’re not just gonna turn around and transform into something horrible?”

“You don’t. But…” he loomed over her chair slightly. “I will get what I want. You can either help me, or be stranded on the first remote island we come across until your friends rescue you. As it stands, you are only added assurance. The choice is yours.” 

So he was back to threatening her. Amy thought about it- he really didn’t need her. If he had evil intentions, Metal Sonic could have just as easily taken what he wanted from her and locked her up, or worse. Instead, he asked for her help. It was unprecedented. Then again, Amy thought she could at the very least stall him- pry into his plan and see if she could discern whether he was being truthful... And it was either that or become a castaway.

She turned back to him with resolve on her face. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

The first phase of the plan was officially a success. Now, all Metal needed to do was keep up the act and use her presence to his advantage should her friends catch up to them. Better not to celebrate, yet- he didn’t want to sound too confident. “Thank you, Amy Rose. I knew I could count on you.” He extended his hand once more, this time waiting for her response. She stood up and shook it with a nod.

“Just Amy is fine. And I hope this means you’ll start thinking for yourself instead of blindly coming after us.”

“Cutting words, Amy…” He may have held her in that handshake a bit harder than necessary as she couldn’t hide the slight wince in her eyes. “Now, the compass.”

A sly smile spread on her face. “No ‘please’?” 

Cheeky. Perhaps, Metal thought, she would be more interesting to keep as company than he thought. “Please,” he said in a low growl, drawing her in closer with a harsh tug. 

“Ugh,” Amy yanked her hand away from him distastefully. “Here, weirdo.” She pulled the compass from her sleeve and tossed it to him.

“Hm. I believe the next words are ‘thank you.’” Metal examined the compass front and back. “Perhaps you think you’ve stumped me without the little spyglass in the sunset, but…” A purplish glow came from his eye as he cast it down on the navigation device. “I am still a robot, after all.” 

With a scoff, Amy crossed her arms. She’d hoped to buy herself some time by not sharing the “solution” with him, but of course, he had a sharp eye. If she wasn’t able to trick him, she’d just have to get in his way.

“An inscription and all. So theatrical,” Metal chuckled. “Even back then, one could simply shine a red light upon this and use the glass filter…”

“You’re one to talk about theatrics.” She wasn’t sure if she should nod toward his outfit or the entire ship.

He let out a metallic laugh. “And here I thought you’d be entertained by all this. Come, we can finally navigate.” 

With that, Metal Sonic led Amy out onto the main deck. She followed him cautiously, taking note of her surroundings. Each of the little henchmen clinked their clamped hands to their heads as their master passed. They were cute in their strange little way, their wide smiles making them look silly for the most part. Amy couldn’t help cracking a smile at the one who stood under the roof of the helm.  She gave him a little wave and he reacted by springing his arms to the side and doing a handstand. “Pfff!” Amy cracked up.

“H1- stop fooling around. The sails need turning,” Metal demanded. H1 kept Amy giggling as he curled into a ball and rolled down the deck. “I will never know why they are such clowns…”

“Aw, lighten up! They’re fun. Well, when they’re not trying to strangle me.”

Metal ignored her, instead using the compass to navigate. “It seems we just have to go in the opposite direction from where this points. The glowing arrow is hardly necessary.” 

“I guess,” Amy shrugged. “Looks cool, though.” She appeared much more relaxed after the quick laugh. Supporting herself on a rail, she looked out into the dark waters. “You can’t see anything out there…”

“Well, you can’t.”

“And pretty soon neither will you. Might wanna start getting acclimated.”

The proud attitude Metal took toward his mechanical body was probably best hidden for the time being. He made a note to dial down the cockiness. “I suppose you have a point. We will light some lanterns, then.”

The great vessel turned gradually in the correct direction as the other minions brought out antique lanterns from the ship’s displays. They did little to light the ship’s way, but Amy at least had a way to see where she was going aboard. Metal Sonic gave her free access to its entirety, but she was more interested in watching the stars from under the unspoiled sky. He observed as she cocked her head up and around to capture what she could with what he only assumed was a much narrower ocular scope than his own. Still, her curiosity was interesting as it unfolded before him. Amy had surely seen the night sky before, yet she craned her head to stare up at it so intently. It was… cute. That word seemed to be thrown in her direction a lot.

Grumbling in her stomach caused Amy to turn her attention to her hunger. She worried there wouldn’t be anything to eat on a ship manned entirely by machines. “Hey,” she called out to him from the lower deck, “uh, do you have any food? I haven’t eaten in a while…”

Food. It hadn’t crossed his mind. Of course, organics liked to- no, needed to eat to survive. He scolded himself for the oversight. “We… did not bring any aboard.”

“Seriously?”

Surely, there had to be something on board as the vessel was operating just two days prior. “The galley, perhaps? Follow me.”

Metal descended the steps that led from the helm and beckoned for Amy to join him in the lower guns. He kept the layout of the ship in his vision as they navigated most of the way into its belly, finally reaching the kitchen down below. Luckily, there was a light switch and Amy was able to put down her lantern as she took in the sight of the huge space.

“Woah… That’s no galley…” she stepped inside, admiring the stainless steel countertops and modern, oversized refrigerators and industrial ovens. “This must be the catering kitchen,” she concluded, opening a fridge. It was full of food just waiting to be prepared.

“Ah, yes. I believe there was to be a wedding here until I commandeered the ship…”

“You took someone’s entire wedding venue?” Amy asked in shock. “I thought you were evil before…”

He supposed that was meant to be a quip, but he didn’t find the humor in her words. Metal walked calmly to one of the stovetops and tested the switch, which was working normally. “It appears everything here is operational. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned on his heel and made for the exit, byt stopped. She would need a place to sleep, too. “I suppose you’ll need sleeping quarters, as well- find me when you’re through and I’ll assign you a room.” 

“Uh-huh,” Amy answered half-heartedly. She was too busy deciding what to cook for herself and trying to figure out how to split the huge, catering-sized portions for one. 

It took some creativity, but she managed to make something that would last her a couple of meals. Amy didn’t feel great about all the stolen food, but beggars can’t be choosers. Once she’d eaten and cleaned up, Amy picked up the precarious lantern and began her way up the many steps to the main deck. There are modern appliances here and they couldn’t be bothered to get me a flashlight? Amy still didn’t understand what the pirate charade was about, but she had to admit how cute she looked in the historical outfit. Pirates were definitely cooler than sailors; she wished she’d thought of it.

She finally reached the floor below the upper deck to find Metal Sonic sitting at a table in the corridor, wiping and inspecting the blade of a sword. It was creepy. “Hey… I’m done eating.” She held up the lantern awkwardly.

“Have you ever used one of these?” he flicked his wrist, brandishing the sword above him.

“Uh… can’t say I really have.”

“Would you like to?”

Amy clicked her tongue impatiently. “I would like to take a shower and know where I’ll be sleeping.” 

The tip of the sword found its way quite startlingly into the wooden table-top as Metal stood. “‘Lighten up,’” he mocked her. 

“Are you gonna be this good at copying people when your programming disappears?” Amy did her best to look unphased, but her heart jumped when he stuck the sword into the table. It was beating a bit quicker now.

A monocular, dead-pan stare met her eyes. “Will being organic make me as dull as you?”

Even after years of intense battles and struggling bitterly against him, Amy never wanted to wack Metal Sonic harder than she did then. The whole situation was unbelievably annoying- trapped on a ship with a cocky narcissist. A dangerous one- the thought ran through her mind. Amy had to take a step back- once he changed, if he changed, he would be much less of a threat. If she wasn’t staying aboard for him, she hoped, she was at least doing it for the greater good. That at least gave her some comfort. “Just tell me where it is, I’ll go myself.”

Metal leaned an arm on the table with disinterest. “Down two floors and down the hall to your right. It will be hard to miss.”

“Hmph,” Amy took off, trodding back down the stairs. Other than a short temper, he was impossible to read. She had to find a way to learn more about his intentions.

Amy followed his instructions, arriving in a dark corridor. Amy squinted in the dim light, groping for a light switch. Once she found it, she was in awe. Ornate molding lined the ceiling and fine art hung from the walls. It must have been part of the wedding venue.

She admired the paintings leading down the hall until reaching a door with a gold handle. Bridal Suite was printed on a plaque that hung next to it. Entering, Amy found a bright white room furnished with a canopy bed and vanity, among other lavish furniture. Her irritability quickly melted away as she took in the luxurious surroundings. Maybe staying aboard the strange ship wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-------

Hi yall so I’m taking a break from writing Unfamiliar as I outline the last few chapters. It’ll be back early 2021 ❤️

ALSO I meant to finish this in time for @metamy-ship-week prompt 7 (free day) but it ended up a lot longer than I expected - hope you don’t mind me tagging it!

Part 2 of this should be up in the next few days! Love yall besos 

[seijojoh]

What is this? | S. Tomura

Pairing: Shigaraki x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Shigaraki realizes his personal feelings for you, finally. At first, he is terrified. Someone with his quirk isn’t possibly fit for love,,, right?

Warnings: a bit of angst here, a few curse words there!  A/N: Idea was taken from a friend off of discord, so enjoy the first post on this tumblr blog! Also, to give a bit of clarification, Shiggy’s quirk is still effective against the reader and highly dangerous! Caution is needed for both parties. 

Also I apologize of Tomura seems a bit ooc for this, I just kind of changed his personality a bit as I went because THIS IS HELLA SELF INDULGENT! <3

Enjoy! This was not proofread lolol

There are no manga spoilers, but there are a few S1-S2 spoilers if you have not watched the anime yet!

Shigaraki felt stupid. Dense, ignorant, absolutely mindless!

Why did it take him so long to realize how absolutely captivating you are? The way your smile seems to brush away the storm clouds that used to follow him everywhere he went. You were so gentle, so kind, so... good. Part of him was concerned why you followed him and the league. The potential you hold is incredibly high and he was happy he acknowledged it the first day you walked into the dingy bar. It was only a day after he kicked out Dabi and Toga for a much needed contemplation. Giran introduced you to him and the moment the overworked leader laid his beady red eyes on you, he knew you were worthy.

Granted, it did not show - at least he hoped not. Father was still on his face, blocking out his features from the crowd in front of him. He studied you carefully as you explained your reasoning for joining, and much to his surprise you were there for him and not Stain or his master. You claimed you had high hopes for the League of Villains and would follow him anywhere.

Although he did not audibly voice his thoughts, he simply nodded once and told Giran to show you out. You were confused of course, but assumed he did not want you there after all. Part of you panicked and worried that your request to join was denied, that was until he told you that he will be in contact.

That was seven months ago. Seven months of pure confusion and absolute torture. In that time, he was overwhelmed by his own injuries sustained from the USJ attack, the failed Nomu experiments and his master finally being taken into custody. While he worried and thought over the future of the league, you were always there to offer him help, whether it was a few words of advice, a lending ear, or a head pat (he swears he hates them, and does threaten to disintegrate your entire arm for touching it - yet, he cannot help but relax at the feel). 

Either way, he believed you were a plague in his mind that needed to be taken care of. By the time he sought out Kurogiri for guidance, the personal taxi for the LOV informed Tomura that he may have growing romantic feelings towards you. 

Shigaraki only scoffed and slammed his unfinished glass of scotch on the bar before getting up and storming out of the space. Pfft, what was he talking about? Shigaraki and feelings don’t mix. He was a firm believer that they clouded judgement and with that, he could not carefully plan out the future for his team. How the fuck can feelings help him plan out his plot to completely demolish hero society?! And another- wait, what are you doing? As he walked through the upper floor of the hide out, he saw you and a couple of the other LOV members sitting on the dingy couch. The same one that has been left abandoned and sitting here for years, but everyone swears it’s the most comfortable thing on the planet. Regardless, he noticed that you, Dabi, Toga, Spinner and Compress were all seated on the thing, staring at the TV placed on the credenza. 

You were wedged between Dabi and Spinner, Dabi’s arm was thrown over the back of the couch, his fingers gently thrumming over the old material absentmindedly. Although he was not physically touching you, Tomura could not help the twinge of.... anger that started to grow in the pit of his stomach. You looked so comfortable next to him, too. Your thighs were properly rubbing against each other (only due to Dabi’s incessant need to man spread and take up a bit of the space you silently needed), as well as your sides. It looked as if he was cuddling you and you did not seem to mind. Granted, he knows your particular love for physical affection but, out of all people? Dabi? Really?

Why was this asshole so close to you? I don’t like it. Should he dust his ass and be rid of him once and for all?!

Of course, you noticed his anger radiating off of his body in waves by the door. You turned your head in his direction and gave him a warm smile.

“Hey, we’re watching a few movies. Come join us!” You offered with the sweetest smile, back straightening in effort. The others caught onto their leader by the door, all of them sitting in quiet anticipation for what Shiggy might do. 

He felt awkward, anxious if you will. Never before did he have all of these eyes staring at him, waiting for a response no less. Damn you, look what you have done now! Now his heart is racing, a pink color spreading from his cheeks to the base of his neck. What the fuck is happening to him? And why the fuck isn’t Father on his face?

With a scoff, he mumbled a quick “no” before turning back around and heading to a space where he knew he could not get pissed off easily. 

Why does he feel this way? In his silent march back to his room, he kept replaying the beautiful smile that graced your lips. It made his heart flutter seeing it, reminding him of an innocent time that felt like it was lifetimes ago. Or the interest that sparked in your eyes as you noticed him for the first time. It was as if you were a small child, seeing a wonder for the first time. Every bit of attention you showed to this man did not go unmissed whatsoever.

In fact, he craved those little reactions, especially when he was feeling particularly overworked or just pissed off by everything something. Now he’s done it and practically shot down your innocent request just because he saw a burnt chicken sitting next to you as if you two were casual lovers. No, he should be the only one close to you like that. 

Your attention should be on him while you were comfortable at his side as he plays different rounds on his video games. Maybe you can sneak in a praise or two on how well he’s doing, or how cool his avatar looks, yanno? A movie could hardly do the trick in entertaining you in the ways he could. You only needed him....

And he only needed you.....

“Fuck,” he said once he shut the door to his room.

~

A few days after his silent revelation, Shigaraki has been characteristically quiet,,, but times 100. He hardly gets angry to the stupid shit Spinner spits out. Sometimes he’ll full out ignore the sly comments Dabi makes about upcoming missions. It was not like him and everyone knew it.

You seemed to have it worse. Every time you made a move to converse with him, he seemed to send you a hard glare that kept you away. Normally you can get past an occasional scowl or scoff sent in your direction, but the eyes he looked at you were filled with pure annoyance. It made you wonder if you are the cause of his anger. Did you say something unwarranted before? Was the progress made not sufficient enough for the singular leader? What?

The root of his anger was within himself, moreso his quirk. The strong effectiveness of destroying everything he touches pissed him off to no extent. Has he no control whatsoever? 

He was always careful, always keeping a pinkie finger or thumb raised on an object to keep it from being destroyed. Kurogiri suggested he purchased gloves with a few fingers cut out to allow him the ability to use his full hand, but that wasn’t enough for the man. He wanted, no needed, to use his full hand.

His private training started with little things: a napkin from the bar, a random door stopper found in the hallway, even a broken lamp found in the back alleyway of the hideout. He’d sit there and concentrate on his quirk, pleading with his own cells to turn off his quirk, even for a few seconds. By the time his digits would touch the objects, they’d all crumble mere moments later. To say he was irritated was an understatement. 

He’d concentrate on absolutely fuck all onto for his quirk to activate without much effort. Was he doomed to ruin everything he touched? Is this punishment for past crimes Tomura committed in another life? 

What’s the point of having a quirk that absolutely wrecks everything he touches? 

Staring at the small pile of ash on the floor (formerly known as an old bar-stool and an empty bottle of bleach), he knew this was your fate if these feelings persisted. Not being able to provide the physical contact he knew you’d love and he so desperately needed. 

Tomura never touched anyone that he liked. Hell, up until recently, he didn’t know he liked you. His touches often resulted in people getting erased and the cold sensations that would run through his spine whenever he did would leave him empty. He wanted things to be different, only because he knew you were different. 

You deserved something better, not.... this. 

Frustrated, Tomura grunted softly and picked up the empty plate he was getting ready to practice on next. With his pinkie raised, he gripped the ceramic item and threw it directly into the nearest wall. What he failed to notice was the chipped corner with sharp edges on the plate, and it effectively left a nasty cut in the space between his pinkie and ring finger.

Passing by, you heard the commotion coming from Shigaraki’s room. With a frown you knocked on the door. “Shigaraki? What’s going on in there?” There was a heavy amount of concern in your voice.

Shit.

He decided not to answer, hoping his silence coupled with his shitty attitude from the last few days would be enough to send you away. But, it didn’t.

“Hey, I’m coming in, okay?” You announced, barging into a space you knew you were not allowed in. He watched with wide eyes as you scanned the event in front of you. There was an unmissable pile of ash by his feet, a dent from which he tossed the plate as well as its shards scattered across the form. When her eyes landed on his form, she took notice of his his bleeding hand being cradled to his chest. “Here, allow me-”

“Go away, scram. I don’t need you here,” Shigaraki turned away stubbornly, walking stomping angrily to his desk in search for some form of napkin to soak up all the blood on his hand. He did not hear you walk up behind him, hand on his shoulder as a sign of your stubbornness.

“You’re bleeding,” you announced as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet. As you crossed around him, you reached forward to take his hand but he recoiled away. 

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish?” He angrily snarled, taking a step back. With a huff, you pressed forward, still reaching for him.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me help,” your tone was soft and reassuring, which hardly helped in Tomura’s case. The hell were you thinking? If you carelessly grab him like that then surely you would crumble before him. Is breathing becoming too much of a hassle for you, or- 

Oh.

In the midst of Tomura’s silent panic, he felt the warmth of your hand cover his, your the backs of your hand gently rubbing over his in his attempt to curl his fingers. He was silently glad that he was wearing Father on his face, or you would see the insane blush washing over his cheeks; however he knew you could sense his complete and utter surprise. You were touching him... and it wasn’t a head pat.

No, this was an intimate skin to skin contact, your warmth contrasting his icy cold ones. On top of the warmth, he took note of how much softer your hands were against his rough textured ones, bringing him back to a time where he knew of what home felt like. A period in his life where he did not carry a heavy burden or the people around him look to him for all of the answers, no.

He just stared at you silent shock, his red eyes still blown wide.

“I’m okay, see. Nothing to worry about, okay?” Your voice was soft, lulling him to a much more calm state. “I’ll be careful with your fingers. I’ll just patch up the cut,” and there goes that damned smile. Whenever it was directed at him, he knew he lost the internal battle before it even began. It was just your effect on him.

He only nodded, tentatively watching the space where your hands were touching to commit this moment into memory and to make sure he did not accidentally touch you. With his green light, you were quick to jump to his aid, using whatever he had in his office to get the cut to stop bleeding and to patch it up with a band-aid.

“There we go,” you turned his hand over in your palm, fingers ghosting over the rough texture of them. He stared at you with an incredulous expression, ready to promptly kick you out but you beat him to it. “While I don’t have your quirk, I can understand it may seem like a bogus one to have. I don’t know what it’s like to constantly be on alert from something like that, but I have confidence that you will use it to lead us to greatness.”

There you go, saying cute and motivational shit again, boosting his ego and giving him words of affirmation. How the hell should he respond to that?

In his moments of silence, your smile did not falter once. You looked at him with so much adoration and care, Tomura could not help the rise in his heart race as you stared at him like that.

Without saying anything, Tomura lifted his non bruised hand (now wiped clean from the dripping blood from earlier), and used his knuckles to stroke the softness of your cheek. You did not flinch away once, instead leaning further into his touch, no matter how soft the action was. 

Even though he knew he could not touch you in the way he wanted, he found this small action of endearment to be just as effective. It burned away all of the negative emotions he has been harboring recently, leaving comfort in its wake. The sentiment surely pleased you seeing as though you were closer than before, your chest nearly pressed into his.

Maybe this physical affection thing can work out with him after all. ~

[shimarin-chi]

Some more aro childhood/teen/early adult experiences (as experienced by me)

-You’re 8. You start watching and reading stories for older kids and pre-teens. The girls in those stories have/want boyfriends. You decide you also want a boyfriend. You get a crush on a boy -(You don’t know if it actually was a crush. You can’t remember what you felt back then anymore)  -You think about your crush sometimes. You never tell anyone in class (why would you?). You never try to get closer to him. You have a crush, and everything’s fine -You transfer schools. You stop thinking about him

-Your mother later tells you a different boy from your class used to like you. You’re not happy about that. It’s probably because he isn’t cool enough, you think

-You’re 10. You’re in a new school. A boy gives you a chocolate heart for Valentine’s day. You’re grossed out. He’s unattractive, hangs out with unpleasant company and his grades are bad. That’s why you don’t like him, you think. You try to avoid him after that.

-You’re 10. You have a crush on a classmate. He’s pretty and smart and popular and he’s a good dancer. You used to dance, so they put you in a pair with him for dance classes and have you dance together at events. You try to talk to him, even get him a card for Valentine’s day. You’re happy, you think.

-One day you and some other classmates are hanging out, and he starts making fun of you. He calls you a blind chicken and makes fun of your glasses. You try to pretend you never heard anything, so he calls you deaf as well. You walk away, heartbroken -You decide you don’t like him anymore, after this. You become friends with another boy and start dancing with him instead. You graduate grade school and stop thinking about your former crush

-You’re 11. You’re in a new school and in a new class. There aren’t a lot of boys in your class, and all of them are boring. You don’t think you want to get a crush on any of them, so you stop thinking about it. You’ve finally realised you’re too young for things like crushes and dating, anyways

-You’re 12. Your friend gets a crush on one of the boys in your class. You can’t see why, but you’re happy for her, you guess. They start dating, but he soon dumps her, saying he never liked her in the first place. Your friend stops talking about him, so you figure she’s moved on. -You’re 12. You, the aforementioned friend and another girl make a habit of walking home together, parting near your house. Your friend’s former crush also lives in your house. She keeps trying to walk in the vicinity of her former crush and his friend -(Once you walked halfway to your house without running into the boys, so your friend insists you wait, and when you question her, she gets angry and walks back in the direction of the school alone. You don’t understand what’s going through her head at all)

-You’re 13. Your friend tries to recommend you "Twilight" and tells you about the 1st book’s plot. You decide you’re not interested. That’s not surprising: you aren’t really interested in romance books and romance movies. You think they’re boring, and you figure you’re not old enough to appreciate them yet -(Years later there’s another book recommendation. You take one look at the synopsis for "50 Shades of Grey" and can’t figure out why your classmates like this book. What’s so romantic about this?)

-You’re 13. One of your classmates tells you another classmate likes you. You don’t do anything about it: you don’t really like him, and anyways, he should talk to you himself if he really likes you. Your classmate is probably wrong or lying, anyways

-You’re 13. You run into your former crush on the bus. You talk for a bit, and you don’t see each other again -You tell your friends who he is. They start mentioning whenever they talk about crushes and boyfriends, asking if there are any new developments. There aren’t. You wish they would stop asking. They never do

-You’re 15. Your friends sometimes ask you for dating advice. You’re not sure why: you’ve never dated anyone. You think you’re too young, and besides, you don’t know many boys, so there aren’t many candidates -(You don’t think about liking girls until you’re 18 and find out that’s actually an option. You look back on your school years, decide that you’ve met enough girls that you would’ve had a crush on at least one by now, and figure out you’re probably straight. The fact that your last crush happened 8 years ago doesn’t faze you at all)

-You’re 17. A lot of the people in your year turn out to be dating. Quite often, they are dating each other, even. You never notice until someone tells you or they do something romantic in front of you -You worry a bit, that you don’t like anyone, but you brush it off. You’ll probably find someone when you start uni -(You try not to think about having to date and hold hands and kiss and... other things one has to do when they date. You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it)

-You’re in uni now. Your university major is in IT, so there are a lot of boys in your year. You still don’t like any of them. You don’t mind. It would get in the way of studying

- A boy comes up to you in the hallway. He’s older than you and in another major. He starts talking to you. He asks to be friended on social media. You’re uncomfortable, but too polite to brush him off. He kisses you on the hand when he leaves (You thought it would be a handshake, or else you wouldn’t have given him your hand). You can’t help but feel relieved -That boy keeps showing up and talking to you. You try to show him you’re not interested by giving clipped answers and looking uninterested. He doesn’t take the hint. He asks if he can kiss you on the cheek. You refuse -Your friends think you should be happy with his attention, asking you if you went out with him, if he’s attractive, and other questions. They still bring up your former crush. You’ve resigned yourself to it by now -The boy keeps trying to invite you to events, or just to hang out. You always refuse. You try to appear boring and standoffish. You even tell him he has no chances, but he persists. He tries to give you birthday presents. You are always afraid you will run into him in the hallways. You stop hanging out in the hallways you’ve met him in before -You end up changing your uni and your major for unrelated reasons. He writes a message asking where you are. You tell him you transferred, and then you ghost him. He gets the hint eventually -It still takes a couple years worth of birthday messages that you ignore In his last message, he says he hopes to meet you again, hopes that you feel at least something for him. You shudder when you read that message

-You’re attending your new uni. You’re not interested in dating, still. You are still blindsided whenever it turns out someone you know is dating. You figure you still have time. You try not to think about the future

-You finally know you’re aro. And you still can’t tell if any of your past crushes where actually crushes or not, but the last "crush” was more than 10 years ago, so you figure you’re in the clear -Your parents never said anything about you not dating. They haven’t even said anything about a future marriage, unlike the rest of your relatives. You think you’re safe. Then they offhandedly say something about what shirt your dad will wear to your wedding. You still don’t know how to tell them there probably won’t be a wedding, or that they probably won’t have any grandchildren, what with you being an only child. You try not to think about it, like you try not to think about everything else

(Inspired by a similar post I saw on my dash earlier. It kind of got away from me, so I guess it’s a bit of a personal vent post, too? I figured there’s no harm in posting this, anyways, even if not a lot of people can relate to this)

[luvrpop]

the end

source: the devil all the time part: one/? pairing: arvin russell/reader requested: no tws: n/a (canon typical in later parts but this ones safe) word count: 1652 synopsis: you make some bread, and contemplate finality. extra: i wanted to challenge myself to write a reader insert without using y/n et cetera!! im so excited for this, and very proud :) Someone once told you that there is nothing in life that isn’t a beginning or an end. You’re not quite sure what you think about that, but you figure there must be some sense of truth to it. Hell, you reckon that if those words are true every damn thing you do is the beginning of the rest of your life. This train of thought will come back to you later.

For now, you wake up in the morning to begin your day, and eventually you’ll sleep at night to end it. 

You open your dresser to begin looking for your outfit, and close the dresser to end that search. Naturally, you’ll put on your clothes to begin wearing them, and take them off at some point to end that.

You open the window in your kitchen to begin a steady flow of fresh air, but you won’t get a chance to close, and thus end, it.

Later, all the beginnings you started and endings you caused in the coming few days will become viscerally apparent to you. You’ll wonder which one is more important; those beginnings or endings? You’ll wonder if that matters at all. It probably doesn’t.

Currently, you are kneading the dough that you began only 15 minutes ago for a loaf of bread that you’ll never get to eat. Your radio plays quietly in the corner of the kitchen and you sing along, finding a rhythm in your movement. You feel as though you could live in this moment for the rest of your life and stay happy the whole time. But of course, the song ends so another can begin and your timer goes off to tell you’ve kneaded enough, and the tranquility of the moment slowly dissipates. You wet a towel and delicately place it on top of the lump of dough, and set it into a bowl and aside to begin it’s second hour of rising. That means that you have an hour to yourself, and you resign yourself to laundry. It gets boring pretty quickly, however, so you resolve to finish this load and continue a book you started reading last week. 

You’re only a few chapters from the end. You like it well enough- the characters are charming and the plot is compelling- but the pacing of it all is what’s really losing you. It started as a decent slow burn character study into the mind of a troubled woman that tragedy followed like a shy dog, which you find interesting. However, at some point it seemed like the author was as swept up in the world as you were and was caught off guard by the need for an ending. The past few chapters have been a rushed attempt at a satisfying conclusion, and the original message of the story has been lost. The woman started out as thoughtful and resilient, despite the shit life kept throwing at her. You like her a lot. At this point in the book, though, things should be calming down. They aren’t. 

You pick up the book where you left off, and immediately it seems to be trending in an unnecessarily painful direction. You wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but you definitely prefer a happy ending. The appeal in watching decent people suffer for nothing is lost on you. It makes it difficult to ignore the more uncomfortable truths of the town you live in. 

By the time you’ve gotten to the last chapter, your timer is going off again, letting you know that it’s time to move your dough from under the towel and in the bowl to the oven. You leave the book open on the counter (it stays, because you accidentally broke the spine when you first bought the book. Your best friend chided you for getting as upset as you did. “There are bigger things in life to worry about than a 50¢ paperback novel, darlin’.” He had said.) and stand to wash your hands. The front door opens and closes as you turn on the water, and you call out a greeting to your father. There is no reply while you move the dough to a pan, and you wait a moment before calling out again. This time you get an answer,  though the voice that responds is not your father. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you slide the pan into the oven and close the door. 

Something you’ve noticed about Arvin Russel is the way he refers to the people. It’s never “good afternoon,” or “thank you,” or “how are ya?”; it’s always a “good afternoon miss,” or “thank you ma’am,” or “how are ya, sir”. He calls his sister Lenora little lady or hun; his grandmother is grandma or ma’am; his grandfather is grandpa or sir. Friends are bud and fella, and enemies are any number of vile swears and adjectives. You’re doll or darlin’, and you have been since you found him hiding behind the school back on the first day of sixth grade. It’s common down here in the south to call people anything but their name whether it be from respect or the opposite, but even as a child Arvin seemed to actively avoid using someone’s name unless he was saying something that he needed you to know he meant. Most people figured he was just some overly respectful kid, but you’ve always suspected that he just understands the power of his words. As you got older, you got the sense to wonder why a kid so young seemed to know so much about power and violence, both mental and physical. You’ve heard the rumors about why he moved to Coal Creek in the first place, but it never came to you to just ask if they were true and what living in Knockemstiff was like. You never considered it your business. 

That’s all to say that when Arvin Russel greets you by name in your kitchen at 3:30 PM on a Saturday in the fine year of 1965, your hand stops on its way to the kitchen timer. A quick glance at the clock confirms that Arvin has work in 10 minutes, and you know that you live a solid 15 away from where he needs to be. You turn to face him, apprehensively studying the way he sits on a stool on the opposite side of the island that divides the room. He sits with a slump that shows an extent of exhaustion that seems deeper than the physical body. You wonder if someone’s soul could yawn. He seems like he hasn’t been able to relax all day, and even now there’s tension in his shoulders. Not to mention that his breathing’s uneven and he’s sweating like a sinner in church, so you decide to dampen a washcloth before asking any questions. He looks at you in such a way while you dab at his damp brow that chips away at your heart. He’s looked haunted since you met him, like Satan himself is dancing in his peripheral, always 3 steps away from finally claiming his soul, and you wonder for a moment if he’s always fought the devil all the time.

“Christ almighty Arvin, what happened t’you?” You ask, blotting away at his forehead.

His eyes snap into focus at that, like he’s remembering something, and he pushes out of his seat, snatching the cloth from your hand. “We gotta leave, doll,”

You look at him incredulously. “What in the world? You sit yourself back down and tell me what is goin-”

Arvin interrupts you by saying your name again. “I mean it,” he says, and you believe him. “You got- you got to get on packin’ and we gotta leave.”

“I’m not packin’ anything until you tell me what the hell is goin’ on, Arvin Russel. I mean it.” You say, and he believes you.

Unfortunately, you’ll come to understand that he doesn’t have the time to explain. 

The two of you have fantasized about skipping town more times than you could count. A couple of times, you even packed your bags into the back of Arvin’s jalopy before school, planning on picking up Lenora and never looking back at this shithole. You were serious about it too, your father and whatever spends its time haunting Arvin giving you more than enough motivation. Still, you stayed. Arvin would say he’d miss his grandmother, which was true, but you both knew it wasn't what Lenora would want. After she died, Arvin swore he should have said damn it all and left anyway.

When he makes eye contact with you again, you know whatever is happening now is different than your idealized life on the run. Every time you planned this, you both swore you’d do it all together, and that included choosing the right time. Arvin was so particular about choosing the right time. Now, it seems that whatever he did that you two are running from didn’t have a right time. It just had to happen, and he was tired of waiting. A sense of dread nags at you perversely, and you know suddenly and without a doubt that if you don’t go with him now, you’ll never see him again.

He drops the rag then and leaves the kitchen with a sense of urgency you’ve never seen, and you tear after him. You meet him in your room and you both throw together two bags of your bare essentials. You’re out the door and shoving the bags into his trunk before you even get a chance to turn off the oven.

It won’t be until you’re leaning your head on the passenger window of Arvin’s automobile, speeding past the sign that cheerily reads You are now leaving Coal Creek! We hope to see you again soon!, that you will realize that you forgot your book at home.