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svndaysaweek · 2 years ago

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e^(iπ)+1=0 — {Feat. Minnie}

1.3k words

A/N: I've been studying math so hard that I came up with this... I don't know if all readers can understand this, so I recommend googling the inclined terms(which are mathematical ones). Also know that e^(iπ)+1=0 is the most beautiful formula in mathematics,,

p.s: Why is eˣ okay but e^(iπ)+1=0 not? Tumblr mysteries..

Tags: Math(?), Choking, Creampie, Loving Sex

******

Minnie is like the eˣ function to you. The way her consistency fills up your heart—eˣ differentiated is still eˣ—, her always positive character—its domain is always positive number—, her out-of-this-world beauty—e^(iπ)+1=0—, and–

The way her back forms an exponential arc in front of you.

"F-fuck,"

On her knees Minnie is taking your pounding, with her entire body. Her back arcs upward to meet you face to face, as she turns her head back to you and into a blissful kiss.

You draw the sin x graph with your tongue inside her mouth. Up and down, up and down, corresponding to her tongue that draws a cos x graph, intertwined with yours completely—but following the exact same period of 2π.

You push her down to the mattress, and now you can see the hyperbolic curve of her waist. You grab on the narrow valley of it and continue pounding.

What you are doing to Minnie is distorting the perfectness of her body, although it's your way of worshiping it. The circular dark orbs in her elliptical eyes disappear into her head.

You choke her from behind. The amount of air getting in her lungs converges to zero, while the pleasure diverges to infinity.

Her fingers dig into the mattress as you pace up. You feel her walls pulse like sin x. Instant grips and loosenings of her pussy indicate that she is now close. You contribute the last drop of your patience for her orgasm—the maximum, when the derivative of her pleasure hits the X axis.

"I'm cummi–"

Minnie cums with a scream silenced by your grip around her neck. You for a moment regret restraining her voice, but no. You can just make her cum again, again, and again.

You flip her around to face you and resume the race. The race of which finish line you all are aware of obviously.

You kiss her again, this time drawing infinity with your tongue. It of course doesn't mean that it'll last forever, but you feel like it lasts as long as eternity itself. Rather, it would mean the neverending high you two are sharing right now.

Integral. Integrity. You and Minnie in bed together can't be counted as two. Undivided pleasure travels your connected, shared body. No boundaries are found between you and Minnie as you are pulled into a tight hug by her. You can feel how smooth her skin is, how soft her breasts are like it's your body—forget about the breasts, maybe.

Actually, it sounds quite right because it is your body—it's been so long since you lost count how many times you two told each other "You're mine,". Minnie moaning beneath you is yours. Yours to savor, yours to please, yours only to love.

Yes, yours only, and vice versa. You two are bijective functions. Each of your factors matches each of hers, without duplicity.

Again, you're hers only. Minnie is here, taking your cock to define you, to differentiate you, to integrate you. Minnie is moaning underneath your body, to be your proof, to be your solution, to be your answer.

"Are you close, babe?"

You were just about to say that you were, but you are so predictable a problem—Minnie knows the exact formulae to use when dealing with you.

"I am,"

Go ahead, she eyes you. You crook your neck to nibble on her ear and whisper,

"I fucking love you, Minnie,"

The moment you cum inside her, you are sent out of this world. The real world means nothing to you. Imaginary sensations feel more real than the real ones. Like you're feeling the i itself—the imaginary number.

1×1=1. You and Minnie just can't get separated. When it comes to you two, it's not the concept of addition or subtraction. You two love each other so it's 1×1=1. When you two are away from each other, you're still one, because 1÷1=1. Being 2 means you and Minnie are two 1s, which makes you two different individuals—right now, and of course always, you'd disprove that proudly.

You already came about half a minute ago, but you don't pull out. You see Minnie's heaving back and it's perfectly symmetrical—her erector muscles being the perfect axis for it.

It's an even function —f(x)=f(-x)— that you get visual, psychological satisfaction from. That way you could split her perfectly into two halves.

Your hands softly rub on her back. She still is in the middle of recovery, as you can feel her bumping heartbeats on your palm.

"Y-you feel so warm, baby,"

Minnie slightly lifts her limp head from the bed and murmurs with such a low tone. You then pull out and lie down next to her. Turning your body to her side you brush her hair behind her ears. She looks at you and gives you a satisfied, satisfying smile that could literally melt anything, everything.

Minnie's hand comes up to touch your face and–

It hits your still hard dick and she looks at it.

"Wanna go for another round?"

Minnie asks you, sitting up and getting on your thighs. It's a question with only one answer, it's another function that defines you two—a constant function, no matter what she says your answer is yes, undeniably.

Minnie grabs it, strokes it softly, and you feel your lust being recharged. Seems like she doesn't even look for your answer, anyway.

"Holy–"

You're inside her. Right after insertion Minnie starts to ride you out fast. You can only gasp at the feeling of her already-fucked inside, which is what you do every fucking time. Minnie kneeling, each of her knees are next to your both sides as she waves her hip and waist on you.

"Ah, fuck… You can last longer, right?"

She again asks you a question, locking fingers with you. Just like before, your answer is undoubtedly yes. Minnie then brings your hands to her lower waist and leans down forward, completely relying her weight on you. She lets your head into her embrace and whispers into your ear.

"Warm me up again, baby."

Your hands go down to grab on her hips and you begin fucking her upward with pace. As soon as your thrusts start to fuck your previous cum deeper into her womanhood, she moans beautifully into your ear.

Her arms tighten around your head, but the only tightness you can recognize is that of what's around your cock. She nibbles on your ear. Hot breaths tickle your ear, and her teeth on it motivates you to go even faster, rougher, and harsher. That's what loving sex is to her, and of course, to you too.

Your right hand detaches from her ass and gets on the back of her head. Minnie then lifts her head slightly up to fall into a dirty kiss. This time, you review the whole session beforehand.

You are drawing sin x, cos x, and infinity randomly with your tongue. Her back begins to arc exponentially, so you strengthen your hand on her head to keep her body tangent to yours. Your fingers on her ass rubs on her another hole, to make her pleasure diverge to infinity.

And everything you're doing earns her uncontrolled scream of ecstasy, as if she's trying to make an auditory definition of orgasm.

She again closes in to lock lips with you, and soon she cums. On your still-moving cock she cums hard, and in your mouth she lets the orgasmic sound out. It travels through your body fast, reverberates in your skull, sending you over the edge in no time.

You push deep into her for the last time before violently cumming inside her again.

It's explosive, you would term it. Minnie's entire body reacts to every spurt you shoot inside her.

"Holy fuck…"

You let out a sigh of words.

"Baby, that was…"

On top of her lungs she says, only to pause for breathing.

That was awesome, yeah. You know that, because you feel just like her too.

You look into her eyes, and find the excellence itself, the perfect, absolute beauty—e^(iπ)+1=0 .

#kpop male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop smut #minnie smut #gidle smut

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mushykat · 4 years ago

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i am failing 4 classes

I’m sick and I don’t like it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I don’t like how it hurts to wake up. I don’t like how the feeling of hearing damage is the only thing grounding me to a plain of nothing but heartache and tragedy. I hate how much I’ve let myself spiral. I’m tumbling down a black spire that I’ve built for myself. What lays at the bottom will hopefully kill me when I connect with the waters below.

Sometimes I want to draw. The picture I want to use to express the swirling mass of razors and burnt scraps of thoughts that plague my consciousness never turns out how I want them to. I don’t want to sit down and put time into something that I cannot love. It’s why I refuse to try and dig myself from the pit laden with the shreds of memories I hold on to in order to justify the horrible things I see.

I don’t want to write as a career. A career path means choosing a secondary school, and it means going and applying myself to something. I can’t put the effort into keeping myself afloat in the sea of that of which troubles me, and yet I’m expected to weigh myself down with books full of repeated sentences that will suffocate me with a bad credit score and the inability to apply for a loan.

I don’t want money to be spent on me for college. I’m going to do bad and eventually give up, like I always do. I never apply myself to anything like I should. I know better. As I sit and write, and let the crisp feeling of the screen sear the exhaustion ridden pupils I’ve tormented as such the night prior, I have assignments I haven’t turned in. If I can’t bother to not fail an 11th grade math class over my own impotence, then how am I supposed to swallow down the poison that is higher education.

What’s the point of using flowery language to cover the corpse of what I write? What will the sprouts of tulips and daisies do against the rot of myself. Why must I try and work every word into an intricate tapestry to illustrate the images my hands refuse to draw. Why do I try to form the pictures my mind refuses to accept of what I see of myself. Why am I fucking sick?

I can feel the rise and fall of my chest, and yet my lungs always feel empty. I can feel the beat of a heart cradled behind the intertwined digits of marrow that tuck it away in a forest of fleshy fat, and yet I wonder if I am truly living. Is this all life is to be? Am I expected to carry on in the future. Carry on and carrion are easy to mix up, I presume. But what a simple mistake for such a bloated carcass such as myself.

I feel like if I try to chase after the fleeting ideological wisps of smoke that arise from the coals I smother, and do in fact explore writing as a career, I fear I will run out. I think the only mirrors I can truly accept are the ones others have pointed towards me. The only thing I can see anymore is warped and distorted by the heat of a long burnt-out inferno that ate away at the only thing I could hold dear to myself.

These little mirrors sit behind my eyes, and reflex off of each other. They shine beams of light to one another, as some sick paradox that I am too shaded to partake in. I want to see the light, but I fear what I may see if I allow illumination into the crevices of where I hide. The dark is cold and safe, and lets me shelter away from that which wishes to harm me.

The world isn’t out to get you, after all. The only mantra I can remember clearer than the burning gazes of reflected disdain directed towards me. Are the shattered mirrors that try to piece my reality together warped from the heat of myself or others? I think I know who ignited me, but I would rather let the coals die away as I wish for myself. I envy the carbon lumps sitting in the sludge pooled at my feet.

I am one of the ants that get burned alive under a child’s magnifying glass. I can still feel the heat enveloping me, and can taste the smoke as it hangs around my throat in a familiar noose. I welcome it, even. Why else would letting the smog from burning leaves powder kisses of slime and tar across my lungs? I relish the taste I’m left with. It is impure.

Impurity is the only state I know. Disgrace and dissidence is the only way for me to view myself through the shattered lenses that have been scratched and dulled with age. I wish I could pry them out of my skull with the screwdriver that sits in the drawer on my desk. Maybe if I slipped them out of my head and gave them a good rinse, I could have a clean look at the world around me. Maybe I could be happy.

What’s to say they aren’t responsible? Holding tender orbs with a sheen of slime from the crevice they reside, smeared with the crimson shame that comes with self mutilation. I wonder if I could view myself with such an event. Could I get a good look? Could I watch myself desecrate the corpse that I walk in?

Maybe my eyes aren’t the problem. The ants nibbling behind my eyes made my sight throb, as if what I’m viewing of the world is wrong. It’s never right, though. Maybe the ants are just more noticeable when I decide to grace them with acknowledgement. But they’re not real, of course. The idea of something being out of place would require something to be wrong, which there isn’t. I know because you told me. :)

I hate writing. It’s horrible and I’m disgusted with anything I read from myself. I do not approve of the venom that drips from my lips, and yet I refuse to pull my fangs. Maybe I could shatter the rest of my teeth while I’m at it. I could run my tongue over the raw indents where the abused shards of enamel I refused to care for would be. But since when do I care about taking care of myself? I’m scared of what I write. Every word is a little sliver of the mirrors that have cracked behind my eyes. The tears that fall hold shards of the reflective glass, and lands upon the scarred hands with which I type. I’m scared that the mirrors will be gone, and I’ll be forced to see the reality of what is before me in its entirety. And yet, I’m more scared of running out of escaping sorrow.

Why would I pursue a career in writing when I don’t know of what I write? Why would I try to make money off of a skill I do not have? What’s the point of humoring the idea that I can write? The illness that lets the steady drip of sickly ichor flow through me is the only reason I can type as I do. It’s the one who puppeteers this horrid poppet of flesh bound sinew and bone. If I am not sick, then how will I write?

I cannot write. There is nothing to write about. Any of the scorch marks sitting heavy in my chest, and any of the burns lingering against my face from the reflected magnitude of the heat of the abhorrence of the mirrors others hold are from fault of my own. I am the reason I am sick, and I am the reason I refuse to get better. The feeling of the keys popping under my fingers is proof enough that I am not dead, and yet I let myself make allusions as to why I can only experience a dullness in place of stimulations.

Every time I try to sit down and write like this, I try to crack a piece off of the mirrors. They’re melted into a grotesque putty, and it’s not delicate work to try and pry shards of it apart. I can swing and shatter the mass of heathenry, but then I would have to stare into the space between the shards. The spaces where I can see.

How long can I chisel at a deformity before it is gone? Doesn’t the idea of writing to clear my mind imply that there's an end goal. That perhaps I can someday empty myself of the acid that eats away at the tissue behind my eyes. Doesn’t that mean that I’m the reason I’m ‘sick’? I don’t have the right to be upset. I know this. It’s my fault.

The way others see me is the same, even if they claimed to have shifted their realities. Is it so easy? Why haven’t I done it for myself? I know why. I am lazy and prefer the glorification of necrophagous fantasies over the reality that the only rot in me is my own. The only poison that reaches me comes from inside. The bed of soil I rest in is free from mites and grubs, and yet I wrote. The only desecration is my own.

As I write and try to put these pathetic ideas against a sickly backdrop of a fake shade of white, I can’t help but yawn., It seems to be tiring to do the most basic of tasks. Sometimes I wish that I could lay amongst the blankets marred with the imbecility of myself and not be roused. I want to slumber for the rest of time, and let the roots overtake me. Maybe as my flesh is eaten away and my bones are dissolved by a hundred rains, I could finally rest.

I wish that I could bash my head against the wall and shatter everything going on inside of me. If it was in pieces, maybe it would be easier to weep under the rug. I want to hide it from myself. I don’t have anything wrong with me, I am just a hypochondriac that has done too much research. I know seven people who could agree with me. I live with three of them. Even if stories change, the words that linger are the ones that left bruises. Lying can’t fix the purple and yellow that litters my mind.

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t like this. Sometimes I wished I was loved. But why would it change anything? I would be loved and broken. I would be shattered and adored. I would be coddled and ruined. What difference would circumstances make when I’m the one who sets the table against me? I’m the reason the betting is so low. I picked the numbers, and I knew what I was doing. I’m aware of the horrible things I do, and yet I do them. I know I’m failing classes, and yet I write with blurry vision to try and alleviate a fake weight keeping me from breathing.

I don’t like school. I wish I didn’t have to go. But what else would I do with my day? I’m stupid. I’m tired of being told I’m not. I don't know the things people think I do. I only know things I can remember, and things that I care about. Neither of those apply to much. My mind’s empty enough that the few thoughts I can hold are the only thing keeping me from falling back into the static burning the edges of my subconscious.

My neck hurts.

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sometipsygnostalgic · 5 years ago

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Adventure Time Reviewed: Season 1 part 1

As promised, I’m going through the Adventure Time series. I’m going to write brief reviews for each of the eps as I watch them, in groups.

Slumber Party Panic to Prisoners of Love

S1E01: Slumber Party Panic

This made an outstanding choice for a first episode, even if it wasn’t the intended premiere, because SPP shows you a brief package of what themes the show would keep through its run, rather than just a brief adventure. It’s really funny that the first appearance of Princess Bubblegum in the series is her raising the dead, it being a big mistake, and her lying to the candy people to protect them and describing them as ignorant, then making a 12 year old keep a royal promise. This ep shows Finn’s early season character - an amped up, anxious kid who wants to keep everyone happy but sometimes can’t. And it has Jake trying to pry the information from him, because from Jake’s perspective it is out of character for Finn to keep secrets, and he is also messed up after finding Dead Mr Creampuff’s sock with Finn. (Mr Creampuff and Manfried are both in this ep, and they will continue to be the funniest retcons of all time to me) What was absolutely retconned after this ep was the brokenness of the Gumball Guardians. It’s hilarious that Bubblegum programmed them to go apeshit if someone breaks a promise to her. If only they could have frozen time during the final battle against GOLB. I liked the part in ETDBIDK where you have to answer a maths question while dodging their attacks, even if it went on a bit too long. The ep also subverts its message. Bubblegum asks Finn if he learned about the consequences of breaking promises, but Finn says that if he breaks promises he can go on AWESOME ADVENTURES and REVERSE DEATH ITSELF, and PB goes whatever, youre too cute to yell at.

The music in SPP is surreal. Seriously, listen to this ep. The tension it creates when Finn is told to make a royal promise because the zombies will explode, and how the music so naturally swings with the mood of the ep. Excellent score!

As Jake said,“This is messed up, but cute!”

S1E02: Trouble in Lumpy Space

This is the introduction to LSP and to Lumpy Space. Lumpy space is a beautiful if rather barren environment. I do think more could have been done with it in AT, because there are not many episodes that take place in space. One design choice I found SUPER COOL in this ep is the sun has a green halo around it. I can’t actually find the sun again, I even looked on the wiki but there are no images, so it must have appeared for a brief instance. But it looked great!

LSP as a character was always incredibly selfish, but she also has this vibe of being a teenager who dwells far too much on teenager feelings. She NEVER takes anything seriously, unless it’s teen drama. And you can see that in full effect here. I love LSP. I love how much of an asshole she is, yet she has this sort of charm, because she’s so spiteful but in the teenage idiot kind of way rather than in a genuinely malicious way. It’s like she doesn’t understand right and wrong and is driven by pure instinct. And she’s voiced by Pen Ward! His LSP voice is the best.

I love Finn and Jake getting lumpified. There is some great voice acting on behalf of Jeremy Shada to pull this off.

Favourite joke: When Jake talks about how he might get lumpified, and if it happens Finn says he’ll bury him next to the treehouse, but Jake is alarmed and says he just wanted to be accepted, what did Finn think he was going to say? LMAO

Other good one: “We were drawn back by your directionless fury. Here! PCHOO! Get your girl back!” “Yeah there’s no girl.”

Finn in this ep is having some issues communicating. He ends up having an outburst at LSP, even though it wasn’t entirely her fault that the smooth posers took away the orb, it was theirs too. Finn was having a bad day.

I wish Jellybeans Have Power started with PB and SP bouncing on marshmallows like in this episode rather than having tea in her room. That would’ve been a nice callback.

Anyway, Trouble in Lumpy Space is great. These two eps are really good introductions to the series.

S1E03: Prisoners of Love

I love the joke with the snow golem’s cat head. There is an immediate callback to the Pilot, with Finn and Jake having fun in the snow. I always liked how fun these scenes looked, they are very very rare later in the series. There’s even a homage to penguin surfing, but the penguins are surfing on Jake this time. Finn and Jake act like jerks to the Ice King for like no reason. “Do you know what Ice King means?” “A big nerd!” “Oh, holy cow!” *fistbump*

“There’s a big sleepy lava man in our front yard, and he is SO hot.” “Mmmhmm....” “Nonono I take it - I mean, not like SEXY hot--” “No, no you DO mean sexy hot!” “NO! I mean---” Oh Adventure Time. Gay jokes on episode 3, and these would continue throughout the show. But as soon as you imply two of your main girl characters are or were in love, suddenly the network hounds onto you like dogs :/ Rebecca Sugar herself said that it’s much more likely you’ll get gay content in if it’s presented as a joke, or Wrong somehow, like Jake and Ice King getting married later in the season.

“Now now, I brought you a baby! And a PUPPY!” In his twisted way, Ice King thought the princesses would want to have Finn and Jake there. It’s also a good thing Finn and Jake got kidnapped because otherwise they wouldn’t have discovered Ice King locked up a bunch of princesses.

Ice King himself is a fun character already. He’s not shown as doing outright evil stuff to Finn and Jake for the sake of it. He seems heavily misguided, and idiotic, trying in his weird way to make friends. Then again.... “IceKing - let the girls go! They don’t want to be here.” “Of course they do! I’d have killed them already if they didn’t want to be here! Right ladies?” Ice King I’m increasingly certain the only reason you haven’t been dissected on Bubblegum’s lab table is because of your connection to Marceline, but that is some late series lore. As for the early seasons, wtf dude!

The flute song Finn plays in this ep is very similar to the one he plays in Lemonhope part 2. The Lemonhope version is more complete. “You broke it when we tried picking the lock to that sad ogre’s heart!” Oh my god that is such an AT line, you can imagine an entire emotional adventure based on that.

Ice King has a drawing of Bubblegum on his keyboard...

I love how the princesses are clearly quite traumatized by this affair, having been held for weeks, but the most Ice King did was ask them about their favourite sports, while threatening to kill them if they didnt play the keyboard..... it’s like a parody of a twisted serial killer. AT’s dark humor is my favourite.

Finn is a hot headed kid. He knows that the Ice King needs some kind of help but doesn’t know where to start. He knows he’s probably too young to understand. But Jake hasn’t got the patience to help.

Cosmic Owl’s first appearance!!!!!

#adventure time #adventure time reviewed

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occultdreamland · 5 years ago

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Find the Right Card -- 1

He stands at the entrance of your small abode, presence all consuming and demanding of your attention. By the colorful robes draped over his shoulders, to the many rings that adorn his fingers; you need not have an idea of who he is to know him.

“Come. Sit down.” Your voice breaks the steady silence, the whisper of calm breeze the only other that accompanies you. His eyes are only on you as he sits, graceful as one of those show horses you see from time to time. “What brings you here, My Prince? To such a place outside of your own, I’ll specify.”

“Your name is on the tongues of many under my employment. I wonder what a witch has collected so much of my mens’ spare time,” He says, his eyes cold and never leaving yours. It brings a chill to your spine.

You give him a pointed stare; “A witch I am not. Scryer is a better, healthier term for me.”

There is a pregnant silence.

He tilts his head to the side, jutting his jaw out in a way that you can discern as unjustified arrogance, “Tell me, what is it that those soldiers do to speak of you so highly.”

“They tell me their name before they dare enter my dwelling, as a start,” you quip, letting your gaze break from his as you gather your collection of markless tarot decks, displaying them in front of him, eyes now expectant on his pale face. “Be my guest, however, and pick the one that draws you in. Don’t dwell too long, they like to tell their own story. A story that may not be what is the truth.”

“I believe I came here for an answer, not a story, wench.”

“Is a story just as viable as an answer, My Prince?” You bite your tongue at the name he bestowed upon you, but it is not unusual for men to say such things.

Finally, his eyes break from you, and the relief you feel is insurmountable. He is quick to pick a deck, two fingers laid lightly on top of it as he pushes it toward you. You hum, a lick of a smile reaching your lips. While not your best deck, it certainly suits him. Cleaning away the other decks, you open the one he presented to you, scattering them around the table in a circle, making a mess of the card order and bringing them back into a clean stack.

“What type of spread will you be requesting, My Prince?”

“I asked for information, and I shall receive information. Will I have to tell you any differently to get what I want?” He says.

You raise your head in acknowledgement. You begin to release the cards into the spread you have chosen, all ten cards set into their positions, with the second card being placed on top of the first and the other eight others being placed where they belong.

The Princes’ eyes sit on the spread, dissecting the back of every card as if he already knows what they are.

Your fingers rest on the card beneath another, and you carefully reveal what it is. It’s the Knight of Coins; reversed. “This is the present card. Tell me, what does this card tell you?”

He scowls and rolls his eyes. “It tells me that I’ll be riding a horse. Staring into the horizon with my sword drawn.”

“That’s what you see. I want to know what this card tells you.”

“How will I know what the card tells me when I do not know what it means?”

You cock your head to the side with an expectant huff. “This spread tells of your past, present, future, with your past and present challenges, and the outcome. This one tells of your present, and the card speaks of wasted energy and money. What does that tell you?”

“It tells me that you’re a waste of my time.”

You laugh, something that surprises you. “If I am a waste of your time, you can always leave, my Prince.”

But he doesn’t budge. And he stares at you. Again.

“I will let you think for a moment. It’s always good to reminisce on this card.”

Another beat, and he still looks at you like a caged and hungry dog stares at a slab of meat. You continue, lifting the card that had sat on top. “The challenge, the Magician reversed. My Prince, to be up front, what have you to lose? A loved one, your position in the court, maybe the power over the men you command in these dire times?”

This card speaks to you, this time, telling you that you have many, many things to lose shall you upset this man. However, you also know that he hears the same thing, the way the energies between him and the card bend and wave before your eyes.

Finished with his speedy introspection, he looks up at you, his eyes demanding a continuance of this process. You lift the third card, it sits to the left on the two card pile, and it tells you of the past. The Empress, and you tell him as much. “Nature is our mother, she is a mother to me just as she is to you. It seems you have been a disobedient prince, and she will correct your actions like a mother would to her own child.” It was a risky jab at him, but said in light humor. It doesn’t seem to bother him; his skin as steel as his own blade.

Next is the future. The upright hierophant. “Ah, something that should please you greatly, my Prince. You will be a great scholar, and if not that a man of great intellect.”

“I am already a master of the blade, what else do I have to accomplish in my life?” He says, baring his teeth as if the card insulted him.

“But are you a master of politics? Of the on-goings in the court and the well-being of the people you will rule over? Or of the briars that line your great castle gardens? There are many things outside of war, my prince.”

You turn over the next card, goals and aspiration, a reversed ace of wands. It tells you what you already know. “You are resisting change, resisting the thing that brings you to the best outcome.”

He bites down on what you assume is a fiery retort, and you let it slide. He is beginning to taste bitter; a sign that he is up to no good in your home.

“Have you any say, my Prince?”

“None that concerns you, lowlife.”

Yet you continue, your drive of knowledge on this man a once in a lifetime deal. This card is the foundation of him, what makes him who he is and what drives him to his goal. Nine of Cups, upright. You pull a face(How immature of you! You were trained better than this!) and it upsets the Prince.

“I now know why my men are so enamored with you, now,” he barks, standing from his seat so fast that it knocks it over right onto a case of valuable oddities, making you stand as if you are fast enough to catch a falling section of the wall, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach, “Your sorcery will be punished, witch! And do not think that my words are as empty as those cards. We will make sure that your presence will leave this town like you never existed--you and your collection of harlots!”

Your eyes widen, and for the first time in years, you feel what it is like to know an abyss of fear.

~~~

Those armored men, the men under the name of Prince Maksimillian, destroyed your home, tore apart every tapestry and crystal and orb in your possession, burned your books and every tarot they grabbed their hands on. You remember screaming at them, restrained in the bruising metal grips as they tried to secure you into the carriage filled with all of the other scryers and readers in your village, weeping at the destruction of their home and from being torn from their families.

It took two men to restrain you, and a third to knock you out after threatening to curse them and their children after you saw a bag of your cards being thrown into the growing pit of flames.

You sit in the corner of a crowded cell, shackled, curled with your knees to your chest with an elderly woman pressed against you. You had given her an odd stare before, but her old eyes only blindly mistook you as her young grandchild. Even then, the cell was pressed for space, maybe twelve people shoved in here. Most of them women, you count three heads of men, two of whom mere children.

You all sit there for maybe two days, there is no light here, but the guards rotate shifts at about an hour and a half each… the math kind of ends there, though. You’re a seer! Not a mathematician! It all confuses you to the point you start to doubt the time from the start til they begin to take out women and it becomes more spacious in the cell.

By the end of one of the guards shifts, where there are only five others beside you in that cell, a man in silver armour seemingly grabs you from the room, holding you by your chains, pulling you along the dim corridors. He takes too many turns, definitely a mistake in the construction of the building, and it wouldn’t surprise you that this level of the jail was meant for that. You aren’t surprised execution is about to come to you, but the screams of men and women that puncture your ears startle you to near tears.

But you are drawn away from those horrible noises, at some point, and then taken up many, many flights of stairs, taking you higher and higher until you stand in a gold gilded room, the High King’s Throne empty while Prince Maksimillian obtains the smaller throne right of his fathers. He lounges on it, a leg propped up on the knee of the other with a hand lazily holding a goblet. He looks pleased to see you.

“You finally brought the right one,” he says, and it’s the first time you hear a humorous tilt in his voice. It’s not directed to you, of course, but to your guide, your escort. The prince raises an eyebrow, a face he must make often because the knight releases you and leaves.

The doors slam shut, and you are left alone in this vast room with the prince.

You are unsure of what to do, for the first time in a while.

Prince Maksimillian takes a long sip from his drink. “Do you know why you are here?”

“N-No, my Prince-”

“I do.” He is blunt, but relaxed, languid. “And I don’t want to tell you.”

“My Prince-”

A smile graces his lips, and you wonder if you said something wrong, “I don’t like such formalities. Maksimillian will be fine. Maks even better.”

“M-Maksimilian, my Prince- why am I here?” You ask, a tremor in your voice.

“You intrigue me, scryer.”

He doesn’t even know your name!

“And you are of a breed I have never been introduced to. One with the spirits, with the unseen. You are a seerer, and an elegant one at that. It’s something that this court needs to show them the things that they have never seen before.” He accentuates himself with the waving of his cup, “And not only that, but my father - oh, my father - needs help that only you can provide. Well, not just you, but you were chosen out of all of those old hoots and hags. Hand picked- by me! An honor most of our knighted will never see out of me.”

There is a silence that sits between the two of you. You are speechless, and you wish you had your personal tarot with you to separate and divide these emotions to make sense of what’s going on. But all of that was burned, gone in ash. It will take you years to accumulate what you had before, the connection with your crystals melted and the love you and your decks shared now gone, soot a black snow in your river side village.

“But…” you whisper, looking down on the floor, unable to hold his interested gaze. It’s the first time he seems to take an interest in your words, “You destroyed my decks, the thing that made me the thing you saw. I can’t just… take a new deck and expect to be the same. They had personalities! That’s why that deck had called out to you, because it knew what you are, and could tell us the closest truth of you and your objective. I can’t get the same result without getting back what I lost...”

Maksimillian huffs, “I am the first born son of the High King of Rosodour, the face of the wealthiest Kingdom of the land. I can assure you that there will only be the highest quality materials bought for your shows.”

You stutter, eyes widening in disbelief. “My abilities are not a show!”

“Your presentation is, however,” Maksimillian continues, now leaning forward, his elbows propped against his knees as he places the goblet next to his feet, “I can give you back what you lost in the round-up, but all I ask is that you soothe the hearts of the people in my court even if it risks doing more harm than good in the long run.”

“I can’t accept this!”

“I was not asking you.”

“Prince Maksimillian, this isn’t right!” You plead, almost dropping to your knees, “Even if I do as you say, regain the trust of all of those cards, I won’t be able to live as a fraud! Like one of those harlots in the brothels!”

He sighs and buries his face in his hands, “Accommodations have been made for you. I can show you to your room, or I can have one of the maids or servants take care of you. I will send for someone to take note of what you need for your craft.”

#yandere x reader #yandere prince x reader #yandere royalty x reader #royalty x reader #x reader #oc x reader #my writing #find the right card

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percabeth4life · 5 years ago

Text

The Ocean

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || AO3

The event was really cool.

Percy stuck with Triton as he was told to. Listening to them talk and trade carefully worded insults? Though they seemed teasing enough.

He managed to keep his cool, and when they talked to him he responded with polite insults of his own.

He wasn’t as good at it as a lot of them, but he decided he’d get better at it.

Triton had lectured him before about his anger getting the best of him, in the sea hiding your intent was too important to let your anger get the best of you. Unless of course you’re powerful enough to get away with it.

Spoiler: Percy was not.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

The food was yummy, he really liked it.

There were all kinds of fish, he thinks its like sushi, and some strange seaweed dishes. Triton ate everything first, showing him how to hold the utensils when used, and how to eat it by hand when they weren’t.

There weren’t any drinks, but that made sense. They were underwater after all.

Percy hid a grin as he watched Triton tear apart one of the guests that had been too blatantly rude to Percy. Of course, Triton was careful about it, sounding perfectly polite while he insulted the mers everything. From the way his tail curled to the tacky hair pieces in his hair. Nothing escaped Triton’s insults.

Percy thought it was hilarious.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Interacting with the other mers was a fun experience, he got to learn a lot about how the manners worked through actual talking. And he learned that insulting a mers tail gets you a lot of hate.

Only one mer had a tail anywhere near as flowy as Percy’s too.

She was nice, with pale green skin and flowy red hair. She showed off some of her magic, twisting the water around her into a mini current that spun little fishies in a circle around her.

Percy watched delighted, until one of the mer asked him to show his magic.

Triton gave him a nod though so he guessed he could.

He swallowed and considered for a moment, maybe….

He raised his hands, then twisted them and spread them apart, the temperature dropping between his hands until he had a block of ice. He sliced his hands down through the water and willed the ice to shift how he wanted it to.

A moment later and the ice was shaped like a fish.

He focused again. This was a trick he’d played dozens of times on a smaller scale in his glasses of water.

It was hard with a small fish, but a big one was even harder.

He carefully swiped one hand, the tail shifted, moving slowly side to side.

After a long moment the fish started ‘moving’ in the water. The tails and fins moving pretty closely in sync as he willed the water around the ice to guide it.

The other mers murmured to each other.

“That’s a difficult bit of magic there.”

Percy glanced at the speaker, a mermaid with Blue hair and deep green skin. Her tail was sleeker than Tritons, she didn’t have much magic it seemed. But she would probably be very dangerous and fast.

“Oh, I suppose so, I do it for fun when I’m bored in class.”

“What!?” Cried a merman in surprise.

Triton was smirking behind them.

“That’s rather impressive, who was your teacher? Surely you must have a skilled Thermomancer as a teacher to have such skills.”

Percy kept a straight face even as he wondered over the word the mer used, Thermomancer? What was that?

“My teachers name is Katara, she’s very skilled in water and ice.”

He couldn’t risk using the term Thermomancer until he knew what it meant.

The mer hummed, “I haven’t heard of her.”

“She likes her privacy, but she’s fairly well known where I come from.”

He’s not lying, loads know who she is.

They nodded, “What part of-“

“Ah,” Triton interrupted, quickly switching the subject to one of the fishes nearby, apparently it wasn’t common around here.

After that the event seemed to wind down. Percy still wasn’t sure what it was about in the first place, but whatever.

Triton led him back towards the rivers, using his magic to speed it up.

Percy was reluctant to return. He liked being here. He liked being able to use his magic freely without anyone judging him for it. He liked being in the sea.

But he’s only half of the sea. His other half is from the land, and he has to go home. He can’t leave his mom.

So, home he went.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

The rest of the summer passed in a haze of studying the books Triton shoved into his hands and cleaning the river.

The solstice was a brief respite, he gave Triton a carefully formed Ice box.

As in, a box made of ice. He’d very carefully formed the runes on it that should keep it from melting… hopefully.

Triton seemed to think it was good at least. Percy had also put two more sand dollars into it, they were looking good now!

Triton got him a hair piece, it was made of twisted coral and some small pearls.

Percy loved it, it kept his hair out of his face.

Maybe he should invest in a haircut?

But then he wouldn’t be able to use the hairpin… he’d leave his hair long.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy’s birthday was the only other break in the summer, as usual he went down to the river to see Triton. He was turning eleven now! He was almost a teenager. That was a big deal you know.

Triton gave him a bag.

You wouldn’t think that was cool, except this was a super cool bag. It was a waterbag, like what Katara had.

Apparently, it’s called a waterskin, but that wasn’t important.

The important thing is that this one is linked to the sea! As long as he has the bag he’ll never run out of water!

It was amazing.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

School starting again was the opposite of fun.

The teachers were rude, the students were judgy, and he was ninety percent sure the classrooms pet hamster was not a hamster.

He just hoped it didn’t try to kill him.

But it was really bugging his senses.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

He talked to Triton about the feeling, Triton was pleased.

He said Percy was sensing magic intent most likely. The hamster was probably not a hamster, but also not willingly in that form.

Percy had gotten very good at making the sand dollars, they even were starting to slowly draw energy to get stronger over time instead of just staying in statis, or worse the energy fading.

His skills with purification could go to more than water, experts at purification were able to remove the worst of curses.

Percy had read that. Purification and siren’s song were the two sea magics he had the most interest in learning more about. But he didn’t realize it would give him a sense for curses around him.

That was cool, and probably helpful.

Triton got him books on it.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Okay so Percy had zero idea how to change the hamster back to… whatever it was before.

On the other hand, he was doing good in class currently.

Triton had gotten him to the current math level, and now Percy could actually work.

English was still horrible, and geography for land stuff sucked.

Why couldn’t they quiz him on sea geography? He had that down!

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy baked food for Triton for the fall equinox, lots of cakes and cookies.

All blue of course.

Triton shared with him.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy decided something just before the solstice.

He really didn’t like his English teacher at all.

He kept saying Percy was doing stuff he wasn’t! He worked really hard on the English homework and rushed to get to class extra early! He swears the teacher gave him a detention for breathing the other day.

Triton suggested he use his training in ‘princely acting’ to try and out do them.

Percy was pretty sure Triton just wanted an excuse to make him practice it more.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy got Triton a stone horse for the Solstice.

He actually found this one instead of making it, but he added some sea runes for protection and safety. He wasn’t sure if it would do much, but maybe it would make Triton’s room a little bit more comfortable.

Triton gifted him with clothes. And while that might sound boring, Percy loved them.

They were clothes in the style of the sea clothes!

Worn by the sea beings that could go on land they were styled the same as the clothes underwater.

Percy had six sets now.

Flowy pants that were super comfortable, made from some kind of silk. Soft shirts in really cool designs that he very much enjoyed, with fun folds and clasps that gave him stuff to fiddle with. They seemed to have a shimmer of scales in them. Triton assured him that it was just to strengthen them.

There were different patterns, and the pants came in black and blue, with one deep red. The shirts had all kinds of colors, a deep purple, a bright red, two blues of different shades, a green, and a black. The buttons were all pearl.

They were probably crazy expensive and definitely the nicest things he owned, they looked so nice and were so soft.

Percy knew he’d treasure them for as long as he could wear them.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy worked slowly through the rest of the school year.

He had a lot of detentions, but he took Triton’s advice and put on what he’s taken to calling his princely face.

As perfectly mannered as he could be, with careful insults in his words. He was getting better at them and wearing the nice clothes sometimes certainly didn’t hurt.

He loved those clothes, nothing seemed to damage them.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

He searched high and low for a good gift for the spring equinox. In the end he settled on some cool flowers. He worked carefully with the ice, it was super delicate, frosting it just so, making sure it didn’t wilt.

But in the end, he had a sunflower preserved in a ball of ice.

Just ignore his pile of fails.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Triton seemed delighted. Apparently, he’d never really gotten to see sunflowers before. He’d seen pictures and seen them once a long time again when Persephone had summoned some near the beach, but otherwise sunflowers weren’t really around his realm.

Well, now he could have his own sunflower.

In turn Triton gave him a small orb, he tapped the top an the orb lit up. Percy stared in awe at the stars surrounding him.

“You’ll need to learn the constellations too.”

Percy sighed, of course he did.

He loved the present though.

When the stars turned off, the inside of the orb shone.

It was like a snow globe but with stars!

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy got expelled… surprise.

The English teacher finally got him kicked out, despite all he did to fight it.

It probably didn’t help that he’d been the last one around the pet guinea pig, the pet hamster that is now missing… because Percy tried to turn it back human and was now stuck with a pet fish.

At least he could understand it now.

Apparently, Percy should avoid spa’s at all costs.

Percy decided he needed to learn more about purification magic.

He didn’t even know he could do that, and he doubted he could do it again.

Triton agreed to get him more books.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Mysteriously the school flooded, Percy was baffled, it didn’t have a plumbing problem.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Triton was in a good mood.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Summer was in full spring, and he actually had fun. Triton took him to events more often and Percy was starting to make some sorta friends.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

But time passed, and the solstice arrived.

Triton got him more clothes, a different style. Apparently from a different area of the sea.

The old ones still fit, but it was nice to have some variety.

These ones were more drappy, less clasps and stuff. He liked them, he felt like he could spin and look dramatic. Almost like he has wings!

Triton also got him an instrument called an ocarina. It was shaped like a seashell and was a pretty blue. He got Percy some books to learn from and told him it was the first step in learning Siren’s Song magic.

Percy was determined to master it.

Percy made him a geode snow globe. He’d found the stone totally by accident, but it was the same green as Triton’s tail! It sparkled a lot, he thought Triton might like it (to show off, he was horribly vain about his tail Percy had noticed). He worked hard to make the snow globe, but with a little bit of glitter instead of snow stuff.

It sparkled a lot, Triton smiled and thanked Percy.

Percy was glad that he could make Triton happy.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy decided to dye his hair.

In hindsight perhaps he should’ve informed his mom first.

But he felt so plain compared to the other merfolk at the events he went to! All of them had such colorful hair! Triton’s hair was even a really dark blue, so dark you could mistake it for black.

That’s what Percy tried to do…

That didn’t quite work.

His hair was a cobalt blue, very clearly blue.

He’d gotten the dye from Samoa (a mermaid with a really pretty white tail that was kinda flowy and pale hair. Pale everything really, he thinks she’s albino or something, but it would be rude to ask.)

Triton thought it was hilarious, hair was all kinds of color under the sea, so it was totally fine for Percy to dye his hair.

His mom did not think it was hilarious…

He was grounded for a week, and she tried using dye remover… It didn’t work.

Triton found that even funnier.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy’s twelfth birthday was soon after, Triton got him a super cool bag!

Its enchanted so that other’s can’t take his stuff out of it, and it keeps the inside untouched by anything that happens on the outside. So if the bag gets drenched in water the insides won’t be affected, same if it gets set on fire.

Triton was kind enough to demonstrate.

Percy thought it was brilliant and would definitely help with the bullies.

Percy was so happy to have a friend like Triton.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy was not happy.

His mom had put him in a private school. Which wasn’t horrible, he’d been to two before.

What was horrible was the fact that his school was a boarding school.

He wouldn’t be able to visit Triton or go to the river or gossip with the fish or practice his waterbending (no matter what Triton said or the fact that it’s apparently called Thermomancy he would always call it waterbending).

He wasn’t happy at all, though at least Triton was right about them still being able to talk via iris messaging.

He still wasn’t happy.

He reluctantly said goodbye to his many fish friends, Triton took him down to say goodbye to the sorta friends he’d made amongst the merfolk. He told them his teacher had moved to another area for awhile and it would be a few months before he could visit.

They understood.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Percy stared up at the gates, reluctance filling him.

He fiddled with his bracelet, curling his fingers around the sparkling stone that glittered on it.

He could do this. He’s Percy Jackson, son of Oceanus (you know, probably), he’s going to be a master of purification and help clean the seas of all the pollution. He was Triton’s friend.

He could do this.

He stepped through the gates of Yancy Academy to begin the next school year.

Mer Percy Here

#longer chapter than usual #pjo #percy jackson #triton #pjo triton #triton is a good big brother #Avatar the legend of percy #avatar: the legend of percy #avatar fan percy #powerful percy #smart percy

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justaghostingon · 5 years ago

Text

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 4: To The Shore

Kodya’s class takes a fieldtrip, and it goes about as well as can be expected when you let three curious mermaids loose in a general store.

Read on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/62957779

Or below the cut

As the weeks rolled by, a pattern began to emerge. Kodya would wake up early and go out fishing, just like before. Only now three bright-colored heads would rise from the water to greet him as soon as he cut the engine, the Kid at the forefront with some small gift to appease Kodya. He would still set out the nets, like always. But now a mermaid or two would be there to try and help. Occasionally one, usually Red, would get stuck and need to be cut out. Kodya would still eat his lunches out on the water like always, but now those lunches would be shared by three mermaids chattering and snacking themselves. Even Fluffy would mime out an opinion or two. Then after lunch, Kodya would start teaching.

Gyrus was, by far, the best student Kodya had ever seen. It took him almost no time to learn basic math, and soon he was calculating faster and with greater accuracy than Kodya himself could. Kodya had once tried to explain how budgeting worked to illustrate why his nets were so important, and by that evening Gyrus had completely reorganized his budget to the point where he was saving more money than he’d thought was possible. In all honesty, Kodya was pretty sure Gyrus was some kind of super genius, and found he was rapidly running out of things to teach him.

If he’d only known the Kid, Kodya is pretty sure that he would have chalked up Gyrus’ super-intelligence to just a siren thing. But alas, it appeared that great age did not translate to skill with numbers, as both Fluffy and Red were leagues behind. Not that they were terrible, Kodya begrudgingly noted that if they had been to elementary school together they both have had higher grades than he did. But they needed a slower pace, and often Kodya found he had to slow down the lesson to accommodate them.

If teaching them all math had been their only goal, Kodya would have tried giving Fluffy and Red more class hours while sending the Kid off to do homework or something. But neither Fluffy or Red showed any particular interest in putting extra work into improving their own skills. They’d put up a show to support Gyrus of course, but Fluffy’s constant fidgeting and Red’s frustrated growls made it very clear they did not really want to be there. This in turn made Gyrus get distracted trying to explain and keep them interested, meaning he didn’t advance either. Eventually Kodya just got tired of it and told them to go out and help fish every other afternoon, while he focused on more advanced material with Gyrus.

This they happily accepted, only attending class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and leaving Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to the Kid and Kodya. Kodya would never admit it, but these days were his favorite. He’d stay out way longer than he usually did, just to keep whatever conversation the Kid inevitably dragged him into going. He hadn’t enjoyed another person’s company this much since he’d met Nephthys.

Nephthys noticed the change in behavior, commenting about how mopey he got while away from the sea, and giggling that he might have gotten a boyfriend he didn’t tell her about. Kodya was quick to deny this, but more than willing to talk about whatever trouble Red, Fluffy, and the Kid got into, under the pretense of being pesky dolphins of course. Such stories would appease her curiosity, and she rarely went beyond light teasing as she watched Kodya inevitably perk up as the weekend drew to a close and Monday neared.

It was on one such Monday that Kodya finally worked up the courage to ask Gyrus a question that had been weighing on him for a while.

“So how old are you anyways?” Kodya said, eyes on the white board as he wrote out a few problems he’d created based off of his and Nephthys’s shopping lists and an old book about store finance.

“Probably around your age,” Gyrus shrugged, to absorbed in his work on the problems to notice the way Kodya had shut the book to look at him sharply.

“And how old do you think I am?” Kodya pressed.

“I don’t know, 200s right?” Gyrus glanced up at him, and finally seemed to realize something was wrong. “Are you older?” He offered, looking embarrassed, and not at all like a being who was most certainly not a kid.

“I’m 24,” Kodya stated, voice flat. Now what am I going to call you? He mentally despaired.

“24?” Gyrus’ mouth fell open. “But you can’t be! You’re clearly an adult!”

“Of course I’m an adult!” Kodya crossed his arms, “I’ve been an adult for six years!”

“18?” Gyrus’ tail twitched in agitation. “Humans reach maturity so young? How long do you live?”

Kodya shifted uncomfortably at his tone, feeling slightly offended. He wasn’t the weird one here. “We live to be around 80? Some a bit less and some a bit longer, you know, a normal amount.”

“That’s so short,” Gyrus shook his head. “I can’t even…how can you stand it?”

“Hey!” Kodya scowled down at Gyrus, “Most creatures live way shorter life spans, so I’d say you living so long is the weird one here. We do just fine with 80 years thanks.”

Gyrus placed his head in his hands. “Every time I think I’m beginning to understand humans, I find out there’s so much more I don’t know.” He looked very small then, and forlorn. Kodya felt his anger dissipate.

“Look, Kid,” he said, drawing the last word on his tongue to see if Gyrus would notice and protest. He didn’t, and so Kodya plowed on. “You’re doing fine. You’ve learned everything I taught you way quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Not everything,” Gyrus sighed as he picked up his whiteboard. “I can do the calculations, sure, but I don’t really get all the words. Like this one,” he pointed to a problem, “35 cents for bananas. What are bananas? I know they must be food from how you talk about them, but I have no idea what they look like. And this!” He jabbed a finger at one of the words, “Bug spray! How do you get something as small as a bug to spray anything?”

“Slow down Kid,” Kodya interrupted and Gyrus deflated at the sound of his voice. “I can bring you a banana and bug spray if you want.”

“But even if you did, there would inevitably be something else I can’t picture or misunderstand. I just wish,” he sighed again, pulling his emerald tail close around his body. “I just wish I could see it all for myself.”

His lower lip started to tremble, and Kodya felt his heart clench at the sight. “Maybe you could,” he said, and then instantly wanted to hit himself for promising something so impossible. But Gyrus was looking at him with wide, watery eyes like Kodya just promised him the moon, and Kodya couldn’t bring himself to deny him anything.

----------------

The old shed opened with the loud grating noise of rusted hinges. Kodya winced slightly at the sound, before pushing forward into the crowded space before him. Nephthys had said the inflatable kiddie pool was just in here the last time she’d seen it. But that had been nearly seven years ago, back when she’d tried to teach him how to swim in exchange for teaching her written English. Those lessons had not lasted very long, in part because Kodya was much less gracious as a student than as a teacher, and in part because the drowning incident had still been fresh in his mind.

He shoved aside The fishing rod he’d gotten for his Mom at fifteen, still as clean and unused as the day he’d bought it, and some of her old Navy Seal camping gear. Where was it? It should be with the practical stuff…

Something bright and pink caught his eye, the faded plastic tucked quietly in a corner behind some old storage bins. Kodya waded over towards it and gave it a gentle tug, pulling out of another box labeled POOL in his mother’s loopy handwriting. He pulled the cumbersome plastic out, and stopped.

There was something else in the bin, soft against his hands. Weird. He couldn’t think of anything pool related that was soft, and his mother was usually so organized. He looked down to see a strange fur wrap below. It was plain brown, with faded spots making a star pattern along it. One edge was jagged and sharp, with bits of leather skin poking out below it. Kodya ran a finger down the edge, and wondered if someone had taken a blunt knife to it.

The plastic of the pool rustled against the boxes as Kodya shifted, drawing his attention back towards it. He shut the pool box with a snap. Whatever it was, it didn’t concern him. His mother could sort it out on her own time. He had a mermaid’s day to make.

---------

“I’m back!” Kodya called as two brightly colored heads appeared in the water. “And you’ll never believe what I brought for you today!”

Gyrus beamed at him, and Kodya took a minute to examine that lovely smile and enjoy how it was all for him. “We’ve got something to show you too!” the Kid exclaimed, “Do you want to see it?”

“Sure Kid,” Kodya allowed himself a slight twitch of his lips, wondering what seaglass or shells Gyrus had brought for him today. “But I’ll bet mine’s better.”

Red and the Kid exchanged glances, before Red sighed. “Just so we are clear,” she said, “I do not fully approve of this idea.” So saying, she dove into the water, and in her place rose a single white corner, then another and another, until there was a great white box with a handle sticking out the side.

Kodya blinked. “What is that supposed to be?” He asked, squinting at the sides. Something about the faded pink stickers looked familiar. Was that ice cream?

“It’s a box with wheels!” Gyrus proclaimed, gesturing to the suspiciously familiar object. Kodya raised an eyebrow, and the Kid blushed. “Lift it higher!” Gyrus hissed, and the white box raised above the water, allowing for both the wheels and Fluffy’s head to come into view.

“See?” Gyrus’ purple orbs practically glowed. Beside him Fluffy beamed and even Red looked a bit smug.

“I see,” said Kodya, feeling somewhat baffled. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“That’s the best part!” the Kid’s green tail surfaced to slash the top of the water excitedly. It went straight into Tori’s face and she sputtered, causing one end to dip back into the water. “This box holds water! Without it coming out! If you put me in this I could come with you to shore!”

Well that diminished Kodya’s surprise a bit. He felt a bit hurt. He’d put a lot of thought into his kiddie pool. But he shook it off in favor of squinting at the white cart. It was looking more and more familiar the more he stared.

“Is that,-” he frowned, “- Oli’s ice cream cart?!” Oli’s ice cream was a staple on the beach in the summer months, and he’d recently upgraded to owning a portable cart that he employed Anan to push around and increase business. But Anan had lost it under what he claimed was a sudden storm. Kodya narrowed his eyes. “Did you hypnotize Anan into giving that up?”

“We didn’t hypnotize anyone,” Red sniffed. “This was a gift.”

“We just asked, and he handed it right over!” Gyrus added. “He didn’t even stop to question why we were all in the water!”

Fluffy batted her eyelashes and then threw Kodya a wink, and Kodya had the sneaking suspicion that they had used a different method of coercion instead. But hey, he shrugged. Oli hadn’t held that much of a grudge, and it was high time Anan learned a lesson about not giving in to the whims of every pretty girl that smiled at him.

“So what was it you brought for us?” Gyrus asked innocently, and all three mermaids' attention snapped to him.

“Oh,” Kodya rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kinda brought something similar, only bigger, and with no wheels.”

“Really?” Gyrus beamed. “That’s great! Now we can all go on land!” All? Kodya opened his mouth to protest. He could hide maybe one mermaid, but three?

“That would set some of my fears to rest,” Red said, sounding appeased. “I did not want to leave Gyrus to wander this strange world without protection.”

Fluffy began bobbing up and down in the water, splashing wildly with the ice cream cart to show her enthusiasm.

I’m not getting out of this, Kodya realized with a sinking dread as all three mermaids celebrated around him. I need a plan.

--------------

The plan was simple. Really. Early in the morning, Kodya would meet the three mermaids at the docks. There was a rainstorm scheduled for Thursday, perfect for both providing cover and keeping the mermaids wet. Kodya would load the three of them into the back of his truck, where they would climb into the kiddy pool. Then Kodya would drive really slowly into town, pull out the white cart, now covered in a blanket to pass as a wheelchair, and wheel each mermaid through the store. Simple.

The first part went off without a hitch. It was indeed raining on Thursday morning, the icky, thick, constant rain that made it very uncomfortable to be outside for long periods of time. When Kodya arrived on the dock, he found it deserted. Perfect.

“Guys?” he hissed as he scanned the dark waves. “It’s time.” Three multicolored heads rose from below the dock to greet him.

“That took too long,” Red grumbled. “I had half thought ye’d grown cold feet.”

“It took longer to fill the pool than I expected,” Kodya sighed. “Now come on.” He extended his arms towards Fluffy, who was closest.

Red batted his hand away. “I’ll go first,” she snapped. “It is my duty as champion of the queen to ensure the safety of the rest of the pod.” Kodya rolled his eyes, but complied, hauling her surprisingly light body up into the air. Sylvia went next, eagerly wrapping strong arms around his neck as he lifted her up into the truck too.

And then at last, it was Gyrus’ turn. Kodya reached down for him, determined not to react. It was just a simple assist after all. Kodya could feel both warm skin and slick scales as he carefully lifted him into the air. Gyrus’ arms wrapped around Kodya’s neck, pulling close to Kodya’s chest and soaking his already wet shirt further.

Gyrus ran a curious hand through his hair, playing with the hair tie in the back. “You’re hair feels so strange dry,” He murmured, lavender orbs hypnotic. Their faces were inches apart, and Kodya froze. They hadn’t been this close since the day they met, when Gyrus had called him perfect, and the mere memory sent Kodya’s whole face alight. Gyrus gave the slightest of frowns as he ran gentle fingers through Kodya’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

“If ye are quite finished,” Tori’s loud voice broke through Kodya’s haze, “the sooner we start this, the sooner we can get back to the sea.”

Kodya yelped, placing Gyrus hastily in the back of the truck and ducking his head as he hurried to the front. Still bright red, he gripped the back of the wheel and took several deep breaths. He needed to focus damn it. Or this whole trip would end in disaster.

Disaster…the various, horrible ends of this hair brained scheme were enough to bring him back to reality. If he messed up here, the mermaids could end up in an aquarium, or worse, dissected. He took a deep breath and put the truck in drive. By the time he’d reached the store, the image of Gyrus’ face so close to his own was properly suppressed in the back of his mind.

---------

Step two turned out to have its own set of problems. Namely that as soon as he put the truck in park, he found the mermaids arguing in the back about who would go in first.

“It will be I,” Red’s arms were crossed. “It’s my job to keep you safe, there’s no point in arguing.”

“You don’t even want to see the store!” Gyrus scowled. “Nor do you know as much about humans as I do! And besides,” he crossed his arms, “I’ll be with Kodya so there’s no need to protect me!” He glanced to the side. “Right Sylvia?”

Fluffy threw up her hands in a clear signal of, keep me out of this!

“What’s the problem now?” Kodya massaged the space between his brow. Both Red and the Kid turned on him.

“I am going first, and that is final,” Red snapped at the same time Gyrus said,

“It isn’t fair!”

Kodya sighed, considering. On the one hand, letting Red go first would strengthen the fragile trust they had formed. On the other hand, the Kid was far, far too old to be babied like Red wanted, and going first with Red meant introducing her to Alistair. Kodya squared his shoulders. He’d rather avoid whatever fight she’d pick for as long as possible.

“It’s the Kid’s trip, he gets to go first,” he said, and Red scowled while Gyrus lit up.

“Alright!” Gyrus pulled himself to the edge of the truck to avoid the angry Red. “Help me down and let’s get going!”

“Not so fast kid!” Kodya scolded. “I’ve got to get the wheelchair ready first.” He pulled out the ice cream cart and opened the lid, revealing the cold water he’d taken from his hose the night before.

Carefully, he picked Gyrus up again, this time avoiding eye contact, and plopped him inside. Access water flooded over the edge and distracted the Kid while Kodya tried to hide his blush. To distract himself, he fiddled with the lid, wondering how it would close without bothering the top sticking out.

“This is so exciting!” Gyrus turned to Kodya, eyes shining. Kodya’s hands tightened on the lid at the sight, and a crack came from underneath them. Both Gyrus and Kodya looked down at the now unattached lid. Well, Kodya thought. There goes that problem.

The blanket was thrown over the top to hide the water and the faded ice cream stickers, and the makeshift wheelchair was ready to go. There was just one thing missing. “Here.” Kodya pulled out an old shirt and handed it to Gyrus. “Humans can’t go in stores without full clothing,” he explained, trying to make it seem normal and not like he’d spent hours agonizing over which one of his old shirts to give to Gyrus.

“Thank you,” Gyrus murmured, pulling the bright yellow shirt, specifically chosen to match the yellow tips of his tail, over his head. “Yellow is my favorite color.” Kodya shrugged as casually as he could, but tucked that little piece of information away in his brain.

“Time to go,” he said, stepping behind the cart pushing it towards the door.

---------

As Kodya predicted, Gyrus loved the store. He found everything about it fascinating. From the food to the overpriced towels and swimwear for tourists. Kodya thought he would explode when he found the nets Kodya usually bought and recognized them. He wanted to know how everything worked, what it all did, and why Kodya would or wouldn’t buy it. The towels in particular fascinated him, as he had known humans hated to be too wet, but he’d never realized what a big deal it was until he saw all the different patterns and colors. He was quite disappointed when Kodya broke it to him that the colors and patterns were purely decorative, and didn’t hold any significance at all.

Eventually they got down to business. Kodya walked Gyrus through his grocery list, explaining what each item looked like and what it did. Gyrus seemed to have memorized the prices, and was more than eager to read off the numbers and comment on cheaper options available. Kodya would then have to justify his choice, usually because of quality, and explain it to an attentive Gyrus. It was a long process, but Kodya didn’t think he’d ever had this much fun shopping for groceries before.

But as Kodya finished explaining about bananas and how they worked, he noticed Gyrus’ mood had taken a turn for the morose.

“What’s wrong?” Kodya asked, as Gyrus stared glumly down at the bunch of bananas in his hands. “Am I going too fast?”

“No, no,” Gyrus sighed. “It’s stupid.” Kodya crossed his arms, waiting, and Gyrus shifted the bananas into one hand to run the free one through his hair. “It’s not that I’m not grateful you brought me here so I could see everything, it’s just,” he peaked up at Kodya through his starshaped bangs, “there’s so much of it. I’ll never learn it all today, even if we didn’t have to hurry up and give Tori and Sylvia their turn.”

“Who said you had to learn it all today?” Kodya pointed out. “We’ve got the pool and the wheelchair now. We can definitely come back here again.”

“But it won’t always be raining,” Gyrus pointed out. “You might get seen helping us out of the water.”

Kodya waved a hand as he began to push Gyrus forward. “We’ll just have to figure out another way then. You’re smart. You know what the hurdles are, you come up with something.”

Gyrus shot Kodya a small smile. “Thank you Kodya,” he said. “You really are the best person to teach me.” Kodya ducked his head and pushed harder, trying to hide his blush.

“Kodya? Is that you? I thought I recognized you wandering about my store!” Kodya’s head snapped up to see Alistair waving from the counter. Oh no. “But who is this handsome stranger you’ve brought with you?” Alistair practically jumped over the counter to see better. It took all of Kodya’s strength not to grab the cart's controls and wheel them both out the door.

“Careful Alistair!” Kodya shouted as the man stepped closer and began shamelessly feeling up Gyrus’ muscles. “He’s in a wheelchair!” He pushed Alistair away as Gyrus starred with a look of absolute puzzlement on his face.

��Of course, of course!” Alistair said as he stepped back to lean on his counter. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“I’m Gyrus,” Gyrus said, sounding faintly amused. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure! An absolute pleasure! I am Alistair, and this is my humble store!” Alistair gave a sweeping gesture to encompass the whole building. Kodya rolled his eyes at his theatrics.

“Are you really?” Gyrus asked, sounding intrigued. “Where do you get all the items for sale?”

“Trying to find my sources? How shameless,” Alistair raised an eyebrow and Gyrus blushed, sensing he’d done something wrong. Kodya scowled. “But don’t worry!” Alistair laughed. “My sources are all local, like our charming mutual friend, Kodya here!” He pointed to Kodya who crossed his arms.

“I don’t supply you that often,” Kodya grumbled.

“Oh come now Kodya, don’t be modest.” Alistair winked, he leaned over to Gyrus and whispered, “He caught me a great white shark, I still have the teeth if you want to buy them!”

“I know,” Gyrus smiled. “But I don’t need another shark’s tooth.”

“Another?” Alistair drew back in shock, mouth hanging open. He glanced wildly between Gyrus and Kodya. “You don’t mean to tell me our grumpy Kodya snagged a stud like you?”

“We aren’t dating Alistair,” Kodya stepped in before Gyrus had a chance to misunderstand. “I’m just showing him around while he’s in the states.”

“So he’s single?” Alistair said, and Kodya felt his heart stop.

“Kodya’s been really kind to me!” Gyrus piped up, clearly hoping to back up the illusion of being new to the area. “He’s taught me so much about these states!”

“Oh really? And what has he taught you?” Alistair leaned forward into Gyrus’ personal space.

“Lots! I’ve learned about money, and the presidents on the bills, and dinosaurs…” Gyrus began to rattle off all the things he’d recently learned while Alistair took the opportunity to stare shamelessly at his lips.

Kodya rolled his eyes, disgusted, then froze. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he’d seen a blue tail.

-----------

Kodya stalked through the store, following the telltale trail of water down the aisles. He hated to leave the Kid alone with Alistair, but he trusted him to be able to handle himself and keep Alistair distracted while Kodya hunted down their real problem.

Speaking of which, he turned a corner to find one half of the dynamic duo munching happily away on the fish in the deli. “Fluffy!” Kodya hissed, as the pink-haired mermaid turned her wide eyes on him. “What are you doing here? And where’s Red?” He’d seen a blue tail, and unless Fluffy had changed her forest green scales blue and back in the last minute, there was no way she was alone.

Fluffy shrugged, gesturing to the fish in front of her to say, I don’t know, I got distracted by the food.

Kodya cursed, striding forward to grab Fluffy bodily and drag her away with a cry of, “you aren’t supposed to be here!” His motion startled Fluffy, whose tail whipped around and knocked the whole deli over, sending the whole display of fish directly on top of her.

Kodya and Fluffy froze. Panicked blue meeting panicked brown. For a second all was still, until in the silence the clunking sound of heavy boots began to fill the air. Fluffy sprang into action, covering herself with the fish in an attempt to blend in. Kodya helped, figuring that if whoever was coming mistook her tail for another fish they might just by themselves some time.

They had just finished when Knox, an employee of Alistair’s store, rounded the corner. “I heard a loud noise, and have been instructed to look for damages,” he said in that monotone voice of his.

Kodya could have cried with relief. If there was one word that summed Knox up, it was gullible. “Don’t just stand there!” He snapped, putting on his most thunderous expression. “Get the first aid kit!” Knox paused, eyes traveling from Kodya’s face to Sylvia’s fish covered tail, to her big puppy dog eyes about to overflow with tears.

“I will retrieve it,” he said, voice still montone, but there was a quickness in his step that betrayed his concern. As soon he turned the corner Kodya let out a relieved sigh.

Fluffy beamed up at Kodya, clearly ecstatic that it had worked. Kodya frowned back at her. “We still need to get out of here before he gets back,” he pointed out.

Fluffy rolled her eyes with the clear message of, you worry too much. And no Kodya wasn’t having that. He grabbed her arm and tugged it upwards.

“Come on,” he said as Fluffy obligingly circled her arms around his neck so he could lift her up. “We’ve got to find Red and get out of here before he comes back.”

“Before who comes back?” Kodya and Fluffy’s heads snapped to the right to see Tori emerging from the towel section. “And what was that noise?”

“What were you thinking!” Kodya felt his fury return in full force. “You knew you had to wait in the truck!” Fluffy looked down guiltily, but Red crossed her arms.

“I am the Champion of the Queen.” She scowled. “It is my duty to keep Gyrus safe. You were taking too long.”

“Gyrus is perfectly fine!” Kodya hissed, taking a step forward. “But now thanks to you two, I had to leave him alone, and now I have to get you out of here before anyone sees your tails and calls the press!”

Red drew herself up to her full height, which given half of her was a floppy fishtail, wasn’t that impressive. “I am perfectly capable of…” But Fluffy held up a hand to stop her, cocking her ear as if listening. Kodya and Tori followed her example, and Kodya’s heart stopped once again.

Footsteps.

Red dove towards the racks of towels as Kodya looked around wildly for a place to stash Fluffy. Could he throw her back into the fish?

Too soon the footsteps came to a halt. Kodya froze as a very familiar voice said, “Kody?”

Slowly Kodya turned around to see Nephthys standing in the aisle, eyes wide as she took in Red half hidden behind the towels and Fluffy still in Kodya’s arms. “Neph, I can explain,” he started, but she shook her head.

“Alistair is coming!” She said as she pulled out her purse. “Distract him while I fix this!” Kodya wanted to argue he’d be better able to carry both mermaids, wanted to ask why she wasn’t reacting, but the look in her eyes told him not to argue. He wordlessly handed off Fluffy and hurried back to where Alistair and Gyrus were waiting.

“Kodya!” Alistair called out. “What was that all about?”

“You just left,” Gyrus added, a bit reproachfully. “Then we heard a huge crash.”

Kodya waved a hand. “An accident. But don’t worry, Nephthys is taking care of it.” He shot Gyrus a look that he hoped communicated, help me distract him.

Alistair was still frowning, concern clear on his face. “I should still check it out, someone could have been hurt.”

“You really don’t have to,” Kodya said, and Gyrus added,

“Didn’t you say you can’t leave the counter to avoid losing a sale?”

Alistair stroked his beard, looking torn. “This is true, but I really can’t ignore people hurt in my store…” his face split into a sly grin that made Kodya’s stomach drop. “So Gyrus, you’re hired!”

“I’m what?” Gyrus stared in confusion.

“Wait a minute!” Kodya protested. “You can’t just hire Gyrus!” He was a mermaid for one, with a tail and no social security!

“Why not?” Alistair beamed. “He’s got all the qualifications: He has an understanding of basic math, thinks Andrew Jackson isn’t worthy of his position on the twenty dollar bill, and best of all, he’s really cute!” Alistair winked at Kodya and turned to Gyrus, “So what do you say? I’ll pay you an entry level salary, but with your brain and looks you’re likely to get promoted no problem!”

“You’ll pay me?” Gyrus blinked. “In money?”

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, an amused smile on his lips, just as Nephthys rounded the corner with Fluffy on her shoulder and another woman with red hair helping Nephthys support her. “Time to go Kody!”

Kodya wasted no time, grabbing Gyrus’s wheelchair’s handles as Gyrus scrambled for the grocery bags and began wheeling him out after the three women.

“Wait a minute,” Alistair started, “What happened?” But Nephthys waved her free hand behind her.

“Got it handled, take care of the mess and bill me!” She cried as she pushed through the door, a towel wrapped over Fluffy’s tail as she and the familiar looking stranger carried her out. Kodya and Gyrus followed, leaving a confused Alistair behind as they stepped into the open air.

“Where’s Red?” Kodya asked as soon as they got to the safety of the truck. He and the blue-tailed mermaid never saw eye to eye, but he didn’t want to leave her stuck in there.

“I’m right here,” snapped the woman with the red hair, “or have you gone blind?” Kodya blinked, and blinked again, his brain not catching up with his eyes. His gaze traveled down, from her distinctive red hair, to her odd plated shirt, to the towel tied around her waist, and her….

“You have legs!” Gyrus screamed, finger pointing in shock. Kodya blinked again, and yes. That was what his brain was struggling to comprehend. Before them both stood Red, on two legs and looking utterly human.

Tori placed a hand on her hip. “Yes, thanks to the potion the witch gave me.” She gestured to Nephthys with her other hand.

Kodya’s eyes flicked to Nephthys, and she gave him jazz hands with an awkward smile. “Surprise?”

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #kodya #gyrus #sylvia #tori #strawbarrow #mermaid au #menfolk are overrated

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sopxhiea · 6 years ago

Text

Daze

Eames X Reader

“The whole of Rome wasn’t enough to daze him but even a small glance from her was all he needed to feel home again..”

The sounds of cars passing and the sunshine peeking through the open windows that served as the wall filled their vision, the room was rather quiet. For the first time, it wasn’t a comfortable silence: it brought questions in from the extraordinary yet, all there was in term of movement was the swaying of her leg as she sat.

She was wearing a dark blue dress, it was quite loose overall except the waist part, perfectly sculpting her figure for the rest to see. Her hair was in a low bun, it was carelessly put together and the shortness of it meant that her face was perfectly framed by her hair. There were slippers on her feet, fluffy ones that could be mistaken for shoes if she went out, she was paying no mind to them as she moved her leg up and down, her feet moving along with it.

The seats were all occupied, all of them staring at Cobb as he waited for an answer, an idea to be exact. Ariadne and Arthur sat on the sofa while her and Eames sat on different chairs. They had been hired by some ultra billionaire to do a job, it was complex but they were known to pull off these kind of jobs after the Fischer case.

There were maps and sketches across the board Cobb was standing next to as Y/N eyed them, Eames eyeing her. All of them were quiet the team, to a point where they were involved in overseas jobs now. It was cold in Rome, the view was breathtaking regardless. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open after a while, realising that she hadn’t slept well yesterday. It had been a tiring day but with each passing week, she found it harder to sleep.

“Can we use a time slope?” she asked, pulling everyone from the small confused thoughts they were having when it came to pulling this job.

“A time...what?” asked Ariadne, Arthur and Cobb seemed to know what it was as they both sighed.

“A time slope.” said Y/N, getting up and drawing one on the board.

“Like.... a physics graph?” asked Ariadne again, Eames didn’t say a word.

“Yes, pretty much.” she said once again, eyeing Cobb as she looked at her expectantly before explaining. “It’s usually used with velocity of... something.” she made a wave with her hand in the air which caused Eames to smile a little.

“But in terms of time realms, we can just implement the velocity of time to do the calculations and come up with the real timing for whatever it is we intent to do.”she said, leaning back on the desk next to the board as Cobb got lost in his thoughts again.

“Math wasn’t my strongest subject.” Eames spoke before sitting up on the chair more properly, only looking at her. “Why can’t we just use the same calculations from the Fischer job, now?” asked Eames before locking gazes with Y/N.

“That wouldn’t work, we’re not using the same depth as that one.” said Arthur, shaking his head as he spoke again.

“It could work but they won’t be as stable.” he said, eyeing Y/N again before he looked at Cobb.

“It seems stable enough to me, we’re out of a chemist anyway.” Cobb spoke before looking at Y/N as they all gathered around the board to see the plan of what was to be done.

“Get on it.” he said to Y/N before leaving the room, Arthur was explaining something to a business man that had just entered the room and Ariadne was looking over the plans.

Y/N was glancing at the sketch Cobb had brought in the realm that he wanted designed when Eames’ hands found her waist to stop himself from bumping into her. She barely reached his chin even in heels which he found endearing, a small smile tugged on his lips before speaking as she moved aside along with his hands.

“Sorry, doll.” he spoke in a thick accent, his accent changed sometimes, it was smoother in some days than others.

“It’s alright.” she said quietly.

Eames had been an admirer for a long time, ever since the day they had met where she nearly blew his face off because she didn’t want to do the job with Cobb, he was unstable and given the obvious reasons, it was only the sane answer. Along the missions they had carried out and the many jobs this group had been through, Eames had many chances to act on the feelings perking up but he didn’t.

She was quite feisty, needless to say she was a charmer and a beauty with brains. Before she had gotten into this business, she was an architect that made a lot of money but she possessed a boring life. Then she started doing the job and found out she was better at this than any other thing and the next thing she knew, she was being paid a lot for it and became the number one name for the given job and that’s how she made her way into his life.

She had to admit, Eames wasn’t too shabby himself. She wasn’t the best with feelings, let alone admitting that she might have felt things towards him. She did the job, got the money, disappeared for a while before they had a new job and remained professional. She had a couple lovers before but no one mature enough to sustain a good relationship.

They locked eyes for a second before she averted hers, it was just Eames staring at her for a while after that. He smiled at his feet and looked back at the board again, trying not to stare too hard at the woman next to him.

“You alright?” he asked, realising the tired figure of the woman as she smiled, wishing she was back in bed even though it was barely sunset time.

“Yeah...” she nodded, looking at his blue orbs before she spoke again. She knew he wouldn’t let go of it if she wasn’t truthful. “I haven’t had much sleep in the last couple of weeks is all.” she said, her voice low as everyone left the room, they all went to their own to unwind before they met again at night to discuss a couple things.

“Why’s that, doll?” he asked, he was always gentle with her. Flirty but gentle.

“I don’t...know, really. Could be anything.” she said, her words were breathy this time as a headache made its way up her nerves.

The truth was that she was restless, she was working too much and even when she had the time to work, her mind wouldn’t leave her alone. Sometimes all she did was sleep but no amount of sleep cured her problem. She had been a little hard on herself on a previous job and now it was her body taking revenge.

“You seem rather tired.” he looked at her eyes again. “Care for a drink?” he said, smirking to himself as he waited for an answer.

Of course, he wanted to have a drink after telling her that she was tired. He had his own ways. This was the 4th time he was asking her for a drink, she had said no to the other offers because she was either too busy or too lazy to go but as of lately, she didn’t mind his company like she avoided the first couple of times. Now that the sun was setting and her eyes found his blue orbs, she didn’t see why not.

“Sure.” The pure look of surprise and excitement on his face was entertaining to say the least.

———————————————————————————————————

An hour later, she found herself in the same flowy dress with just a little more make up looking for him. She was a very attractive woman and it wasn’t the usual ideal of beauty she possessed, it was something out of the ordinary that made heads turn even in a simple blue dress and that was the occasion when she came in the restaurant, looking for Eames around the place.

A tall gentlemen approached her after a couple seconds, realising that Eames wasn’t here yet or she simply wasn’t able to see him. He touched her hand and held out his arm as Y/N took a good look at him, he seemed charming but foreign.

“It seems as though you don’t have company for this evening, Miss.” he spoke in a classic American accent as she examined him, there was a gun in her purse and she could do many things with a fork that didn’t involve anything. This job had taught her to be cautious of people, even if they were attractive gentlemen looking for some company and maybe that was why she had avoided Eames for a long time before fully trusting him.

It had happened recently. The last job they had together involved a mob, it was only Arthur, her and Eames because the others were off with other jobs and things they had to deal with. There were too many of the other guys and just when Y/N was about to receive a bullet meant to go right through her skull, he had been there to pull her out of danger and foremost, risk his own life. She had been in the game for long enough to know most people would just ditch the partner and leave because there was the risk of being trapped in a void.

The gentlemen pulled her back from her thoughts as he spoke.

“I would be more than happy to be your company.” he suggested, a charming smile on his lips.

She gave him a generous smile to make up the fact that she was about the reject his offer and spoke softly. “Oh, I’m flattered by the off-”

“Hello there, doll.” spoke Eames before grabbing her gently by the waist, he was being protective and his body language said more than enough.

“The company is here, lad.” he said, kissing her cheek softly as she gave the red-faced gentleman a soft smile, enjoying his possessive touch.

“So you can back off, yeah?” he said one last time and took her hand to lead her through the restaurant, he knew the place like the back of his hand as the gentlemen disappeared into the night. A smile made its way into her lips as she was greeted by the waiter in the well light part of the restaurant.

There were flowers on a round vase, candles lit around the place as well as on top of the table. The aura smelled of vanilla and the colors were soft, simply lovely. The waiter greeted him like a friend so she knew he was a regular here. She gave him a soft smile before sitting down on the chair he pulled out for her.

After he sat down and they had enough eye contact for her to feel her cheeks reddening, which never happened, she spoke as she looked down on the wine glass.

“I thought we were just gonna get a drink.” she said, almost a whisper because she didn’t want to seem to rude, although she was usually harsh with him.

“We are.....just getting a drink.” he said, as the waiter handed them both a menu of desserts and drinks.

She didn’t do this, in all her years of going out with guys and being around them, she never did this: with feelings that made her heart go all soft. She was harsh, she was known for being a little high maintenance and generally going according to the rules she has set out for herself which was to be professional and keep away from relationships.

But him, he was hard to bear. After gaining her trust, she had realised the beaming smile he had and how charming he could be, especially towards her. And he had been admiring her for so long, everything about her: her brains, the way she talked and her small chuckles, her beauty and the obvious stern look she seemed to carry around sometimes, it was all reasons why he was secretly an admirer until recently.

He had always been flirty with her, even when she had teased her about his relationship with Arthur and how adorable of a couple they would make. Little touches and smiles here and there didn’t go unnoticed, not by her or the rest of the group but she ignored it because she was both keen on keeping things professional as well as not having her heart broken.

After ordering and a couple minutes of silence, he spoke up with a signature smirk he carried around her.

“You look gorgeous, doll.” he said, eyeing her intensely but she didn’t know what to do.

“Well, thank you.” she said, small sips of the wine kept her busy.

“Have you managed to figure out why you were so restless?” he asked, being sweet as always.

“I guess it’s because of the last job.” she spoke softly, tracing the bottom part of the wine glass as he looked at her lips and nothing else. “I was just..a little scared I guess.” she admitted, he was already breaking down the barriers she had worked hard to built, not just for him but for anyone to protect herself.

“The bullet was real close, yeah?”he said, chuckling at your visible soft side to him now which he rarely got to see.

“I’m glad you were there.” she admitted, not looking up to see his heavy gaze but instead smiled at herself for being so foolish, being so open with him after the small touches they had shared and the long conversations in the empty rooms they would end up in.

“I’m glad you’re here.” he said, caressing her fingertips as to reassure her.

After months and months of knowing her, he had worked hard to bring down the walls she had around her. She didn’t open up, ever. She was a tough woman who knew what she wanted and was more than capable of getting it. He admired her and the more time they spent, the more closer he wanted to be with her.

Usually, this would go away. He was quite the player. Countless women had been in his bed and he knew how to work his way around them, he thought this was a small crush on her, like the one Arthur had on Y/N the first couple of weeks they worked together but eventually and quite rapidly, it went away and the feelings had faded.

But Eames didn’t feel any of it going away and worst part was that he was getting attached to her, even with all the missions and the endless amount of respect he had for Cobb, he still wouldn’t risk his life for him but he had for Y/N, even though she never knew any of these.

The rest of the evening was filled with Eames’ jokes and Y/N growing more interested in him. He was so extremely charming that Y/N, the cold woman she was, had to stop herself from smiling at him and his charming self. They laughed and talked about missions or people they knew in common which turned out to be more than they had realised.

Eames walked her up to her room, keeping himself close to her because he was scared. He was scared that this was a one time things that would never happen and sometimes, much like it did in their job, he couldn’t tell of this was a dream or reality, an alternative parallel where Y/N was actually interested in him.

If any woman that knew Eames saw him like this, he would be unrecognisable. He was all soft and sweet, his flirty side was there too but he was being so careful with her, so cautious because it felt like she was a dainty flower that would bloom once in a life time and he was careful not to hurt her in any way.

At her door, she knew he expected her to invite him in even though it was asking for too much but she didn’t. Instead, she kissed his cheek goodnight before they would have to meet again towards midnight for the discussion with the group. The truth was, she was feeling things inside she had refrained from but she couldn’t help herself as a smiley Eames walked towards his room to rest.

———————————————————————————————————

There was silence in the room again, not sleepy silence but more of a tired one. It was late at night and Cobb was just done with his part of the work so the group had to gather again, he would share the information he had just gotten from the source and walk them through the plan he had done in his mind on the way to the hotel, and they would either add or change things according to how they wanted to do this.

They were all wearing casual clothes except Cobb which had come from a meeting with a chemist, someone they needed to complete the job. Y/N was half-laying on the sofa in her nightgown, too tired to change into anything else so she had a silk robe around her, too. The others were in sweats while Eames was in his silk shirt still, the only difference were the unbuttoned upper part of the shirt.

Cobb told them about the strategy, explained it all to them and they all agreed to come up with their sides of the strategy in the morning when they weren’t soo sleepy. Eames followed behind Y/N as she walked, not sleepy but tired as always. When they got into the elevator, they realised it was only the two of them and they both formed a lazy smile on their lips, across each other.

“That was a load.” he said and she laughed out loud, not that it was extremely funny but because she enjoyed the company.

“You’re gonna be able to sleep today, doll?” he asked while they approached her floor. She sighed, shaking her head with a small smile.

“Don’t think so but I’ll try.” she chuckled to herself, she was so out of her guard at this hour and he had already broken down a couple walls down.

“I’ll get to sleep then.” she whispered softly and just when she was about to wish him goodnight, he took a step forward and spoke.

“I’m not sleepy either, doll.” he said, swaying a piece of hair from her face as she stared at his lips. “Why don’t you come back to my room, eh?” he asked, his accent filling every word with more pleasure than she could mutter as she thought it over and over in her intoxicated mind before muttering an answer.

“Sure.”

———————————————————————————————————

I just watched Inception and I’m a sucker for Tom Hardy in any role so here it goes, lemme know what you think!! and Merry Christmas!!

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy scenario #tom hardy imagine #inception #eames inception #eames fanfic #eames tom hardy #fanfic #scenario #tom hardy fluff #inception movie

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keyofshadows · 5 years ago

Text

This was ages ago, but I still love it. Part of the fight between the Refugees (well, some of them) and Maleficent in her dragon form on Destiny Islands. Ray ends up punting Jalen through a Light Corridor and into a Christmas tree because he was lacking common sense. (His wife was extremely grateful, gave Ray a framed twig as a thank you, lol.) Sora, Riku, and Kairi end up crashing the party.

A familiar light appeared from above, growing from a small orb to the more typical size of a portal within seconds. Without any warning, beams shot out from it, lighting up the night sky and lancing straight for the dragon - the tail, maw, wings, eyes, whatever it could reach was a fair target. She landed on her feet, the sound muffled by the noise of battle.

"Sorry to crash the party," she said, eyes scanning their surroundings, "but it kind of hurts, not being invited. Right here." A fist touched her chest, above her heart. Ray grinned. "You'd know all about that, eh, Maleficent?"

Seph dove around her jaws, occasionally only barely dodging(lost some feathers at one point) and striking out whenever he had a chance. He was uncertain about trying to go for a kill. She could very well be toying with them after all. It was a silly thought but, he hoped one of his feathers got in her eye.

He had to back off some when the beams shot out but, as soon as they were gone he was back on the attack.

Aria was considering how she wanted to approach. Carefully obviously. She didn't want Seph to get distracted by getting in trouble.

"Not gonna curse a baby, are you?" Not that there were any babies around to curse at the moment.

Watching the tail she got a bit closer and started casting. Nothing seemed to happen at first then a handful of bubbles started drifting towards the dragon. They grew a bit as they went and sparked a bit. They moved slow but, if Maleficent touched one it should give her a nasty shock. If Aria had put enough power into them anyway. Hopefully no one else would run into them. They were high enough that those that stuck to the ground wouldn't have a problem. At least Seph would know how best to avoid them since he was there when she was working on the spell.

Ray's sudden appearance made Jalen grin. He supposed Amy had something to do with it. Definitely good to have another experienced fighter on their side.

Things were happening faster now, which he was somewhat grateful for. He'd gotten to his feet and drawn his sword, ignoring the dull ache in his side. He'd worry about whether he'd cracked a rib or just bruised himself later. Watching out for Brendan, and Aria's little surprise, he headed for one of the dragon's front legs, intending to get a good stab in.

Her gaze landed on Jalen, grin instantly turning into a glare of fury the likes of which only Ray could muster. When he charged, so did she, but there was one vital difference.

Ray wasn't going after the dragon. No, she was going after Jalen.

With a single Thunder Step, she was ahead of him, looking back over her shoulder. Once he was close enough, she dropped, sweeping a leg at his feet to trip him up before he could go any further.

Song had scurried behind cover during Ray's dramatic entrance, and started casting. The first try was a failure before she even invoked the spell aloud. There simply no build up of power. The magic refused to listen.

She took a deep breath and tried again, focusing. This time the magic stirred. She had been experimenting with the feel of wild magic in the air and how to catch and tame it. It took longer than relying on a set spell to do all the work for you, and in most cases it didn't add enough of a power boost to make it worth while, but for her purposes it was useful, even necessary. This was anything but a set spell. it had to be cast from scratch, and that took precision.

On the third try, she almost put herself under the spell's predecessor, and only just managed to recognize the downward tug of a dream dive and abort it before she fell asleep.

The fourth try was exactly like the second try, and her frustration was getting the better of her. This was not working.

A rumble of a laugh spread from the dragon's throat. "I do apologize for the lack of an invitation. I had hoped the general invitation would reach all interested parties, but it appears I was mistaken. You seem to have made a wise choice."

Then her attention turned back in the direction of Seph, and she began to draw in a deep breath.

Seph was still somewhat aware of what was going on on the ground. When Maleficent started to draw in breath he was left with the choice to doge what he expected was coming or try to attack. As it was he didn't have many long range attacks that he thought would be effective (darkness or fire based attacks didn't seem like the best idea) and he wasn't about to get close enough to try to stab her in the mouth.

Well, there was a sort of energy beam he could do with his sword but, it wasn't an actual ability Sephiroth had outside of a non-Kingdom Hearts related video game and Seph was still working out some bugs. May as well give it a shot though. Half a moment of concentration followed by half a dozen quick slashes sent out five crescent moon shaped beams of energy. A couple were not as strong as he was aiming for and the last slash failed to produce one at all but, if the ones that appeared to come out right seemed to do damage he may try them again.

It might have been a good idea to move himself out of reach after that if there wasn't the chance she'd turn her attention to the people on the ground. He'd have to try to dodge at the last moment if his attack didn't interrupt hers.

Aria made her way closer to Song. Whether to try to help with whatever she seemed to be trying to do or to pull her out of harm's way if something happened while she was concentrating Aria wasn't sure.

Clearly not expecting Ray to trip him up, Jalen went down hard on his back, staring up at her in absolute disbelief. What did she think she was doing?

"Are you insane?"

Because that was a good question to be asking right now. He was lucky to have avoided falling on his sword.

"Amy sent me here! It's not like last time!"

He felt a little like a child, having to defend his presence at this fight. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his sword. He wasn't going to use it on Ray, but he had a dragon to help deal with, and she wasn't going to stop him.

In the middle of the fight and the chaos and the flashes of magic, there comes another light, more pure than anything else anyone could have conjured. It lights up the horizon in a brief flash of white, silver, and blue, and is followed by a strange silence - the calm before the storm.

And then wind and fire explodes in the center of the island, sending sand and water blasting outwards from the epicenter. The dust hasn't even settled and the light has barely begun to die away when a voice, familiar but different somehow, cries out from the middle of the burning star and a wordless spell lashes out at the dragon, brilliant white vines of light entangling around its form. The darkness retreats away from the immediate area of the shore, coiling away into the sea and sand and sky.

Eventually, the light fades away and the tendrils of pale magic can be traced back to two spinning keyblades - Oblivion and Oathkeeper - floating next to a surprisingly familiar figure. It wouldn't do to call him a boy anymore - he has long since become a young man in the years since the battle against Xemnas and even Calum. It has been several years since he's been a part of this fight, and bringing it crashing back to where it all began clearly doesn't sit well with him.

Or it could be that the fight interrupted college finals.

"Hey guys!" Sora remarks cheerfully, immediately dropping into a fighting crouch. "Could you have picked a time that wasn't so close to Christmas to bring back the darkness? Or you know, when I finished my math final?"

Once the light and the dust begin to clear, the battlefield is shaken by the arrival of a new Darkness...and a new Light, each working in perfect harmony. Those who can sense it will sense that this is as far from another threat as Darkness could get - in fact, it's very familiar to most.

At first, there's only a brief flash of a bright purple aura, rushing once towards the dragon before vanishing. Then, a few seconds later, it repeats. Then it comes again, in a blinding, impossible rush of attacks, before a bright flash erupts in the center of the flurry.

And at the end of it is Riku, recovering from the impressive display almost casually, smirking belatedly in response to Sora's comment.

"It would figure, though. You guys never were great at timing things." he said, moving into a fighting stance and holding Way to Dawn at ready almost as an afterthought.

Following shortly after is the most brilliant of pure Light, warm and comforting and all too familiar as the other two had been. It forms in the distance, like a brightly shining star before shooting straight towards the dragons other side, ice forming where the attack hits.

Kairi drops daintily behind both her boys, Destiny's Embrace dropping into a defensive position before quirking a brow at their backs. "Weren't you two just complaining about being stuck inside studying though?" She teases, never once taking her eyes off the scene. "Maybe if we time it right, we can still make it back."

A few of Seph's attacks hit their mark, but Maleficent hardly seemed to notice them. Her attention was on the new arrivals. She did not seem surprised by there arrival, though one could not strictly say that she was pleased. It was simply more power upon the field in a battle that had been coming for a very long time.

She was more than she had been when last she faced the young Keybearer. The Darkness of the Cornerstone that had become her own and the fallen hearts of world's that had strengthened it . . . they had only been the beginning, and when the greatest Darkness of all had come into the stone, it had cracked. All that had been left as a vessel for that power was her. Her allies may have been gone, but the need for them had passed.

She turned towards her three greatest adversaries and breathed out death.

Seph opened a corridor before Maleficent released her attack at the new arrivals. His mostly darkness based attacks would not likely be much use here but, he didn't go far. He wanted to see how well the Key bearers handled the situation and of course he would resume his own attack if he felt they wouldn't end up tripping each other up.

Song was nearly ready to give up her plan and hope the new arrivals could handle it. She was certainly glad they'd got the message, even if they were a little late. And dear Light, the three of them were even more impressive than she'd remembered.

She tensed, preparing to rise and join the fight more directly, but something tugged at her mind. It wasn't right to just give up on her plan, was it? After all, it was her strongest point. What else could she offer that would come close to matching this, provided she could make it work?

With a fresh sense of determination that seemed to come from somewhere else, she settled herself again and tried one more time to cast the spell.

This time, she felt something even before she'd consciously called to the magic. There was a soft touch on the back of her hands, like fingertips, guiding, and she thought it was a cool breath that ruffled the hair around her ear.

'Like so.'

The voice came from inside her head as much as it did from behind her, and she wasn't startled to hear it, though she very well should have been. The tone was gentle and patient, like a good teacher, and through her, the presence summoned and shaped the magic. All Song could do was be dragged along as the spell itself was pulled from her memory and cast with her hands.

"Awakening," she heard herself whisper, and slowly... very slowly.... a blanket of foggy white began to spread from where she knelt.

"She may have sent you here," Ray said, "but you really should have thought this through a little better."

Grabbing Jalen's wrist an instant before he could charge again, she yanked him back as hard she could. Before he could even think of getting back up, he was pinned to the ground. She looked down at him, shaking her head in dismay.

"Honestly, Jalen. Your wife is pregnant, and you leave her home, alone, with three little kids, just so you can traipse off and fight a stupid dragon in the most idiotic way possible? Is it just me, or is there something slightly wrong with this picture?"

Without giving him a chance to answer, she sighed and dragged Jalen back to his feet by the front of his shirt. A portal opened behind him and Ray shoved him in none too gently. Pausing, she turned back with a smirk at the young Keybearers.

"About time you guys got here," she said teasingly. "You've got this one in the bag, right?"

Apparently, she didn't need or want an answer. She stepped through the Corridor without another word, heading straight back to Rainbow's End.

Amy was sitting on the couch in the living room, cuddling Larkin in her lap (what there was of it), with Eli and Ashlyn snuggled up on either side of her while she read them a story. The kids had started picking up on her nerves shortly after everyone had left, and she'd decided a nice, quiet distraction was a good idea. So, out came the books, and she'd let the kids pick. They'd already gone through Eli's choice, and she was just a few pages into the new book when her son tugged on her sleeve.

"Daddy's home soon?"

Amy bit her lip and turned the page before answering.

"I-"

She stopped abruptly as there was a bright flash of light, followed by a crash as something fell into the Christmas tree. She grabbed Larkin, and both Eli and Ashlyn cried out in surprise, clinging to her. A second later she realized the 'something' was actually a someone, as Jalen staggered away from where he'd fallen out of the Light Corridor into the tree. He was glaring at the still-open portal, no doubt waiting for Ray to step through. Amy simply stared in disbelief. She'd only asked Ray if she wanted to come help her babysit, but this was good too. Really good.

"...Daddy's home."

#kingdom hearts au #kingdom hearts #world refugees #old threads #roleplay logs #Amy used the dream magic used here from Song then taught her kids #and Eli goes on to teach his and so on #it's a tradition now #there's a school for dream mages too #fun times

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boysfile · 6 years ago

Text

▸ pairing: daehwi x reader.

▸ genre: best friends to lovers au. fluff.

▸ warnings: none.

▸ word count: 1.8k

✎ — synopsis: you lost your textbook and the only person you can borrow one from was your best friend. but you got bored in class and starts doodling all over his book.

✎ — a/n: so this is my first actual? fic post on tumblr uwu. tbh i was pretty intimidated by a lot of things while writing this but i thoroughly enjoyed the process so i hope you like it!

panic. panic was the only thing you felt. you paced around your room, desperately trying to find your chemistry textbook, but to no avail.

the first thing you thought of was to phone your best friend, who you didn’t know if it was lucky or not that he was in a different class from you.

unlucky because you can’t goof around in class.

lucky because now you can scream for his help.

after much persuasion, he agreed. on a condition that his textbook returns to him with zero alternations. which meant no ripped pages or corners, no highlighting or pencil marks, and no spilling of coffee.

you swiftly agreed to his conditions and gave him a virtual hug through your phone screen. quickly, you packed your bag, glad that the frenzied search for your chemistry textbook is over.. for now.

when you arrived at the school, daehwi was already waiting for you at your locker, arms hugging the 5 kilograms worth of paper. you walked over to him, held out your arms, and wrapped him in a big hug. thanking him for letting you borrow his textbook.

you hurriedly rushed to your chemistry classroom as the class had already started. the professor wrote a reference page on the board and you quickly opened daehwi’s textbook to find the page.

upon finding the passage, you took notice of how neat and clean your best friend’s book was. nothing was out of place; pencil marks and highlighted sentences. ruler-lined tables and scaled diagrams. every single thing was for the benefit of his study.

you looked back up at the professor, he was talking about something to do with acids and alkaline. you have no interest in chemistry, only taking it as your parents have told you to.

basically. class was boring.

so you instinctively whipped out your pencil case, grabbed your favourite pencil, and started doodling on daehwi’s book; already forgetting about the initial promise. various small images started to decorate the white spots on the page, slowly being filled with pencil sketches of unicorns, dinosaurs, flowers and even slices of cake. as you giggled at your failed drawing of a penguin, the bell rang, signalling the end of the period.

you slowly walked to the cafeteria, hoping to avoid the crowds who were pining for the last melon bun. it’s always hellish when recess starts, students and staff alike rushing to the cafe hoping to get a single muffin.

you went to your usual table, hand still holding daehwi’s textbook. you took out your phone, wanting to call him to tell him where you were. but before you could hit dial, you felt a gentle tug on your ponytail. you turned around and there he was. smiling at you like you were the sun itself. you could feel your cheek burn crimson from the mischievous gesture, clearing your throat, you looked at daehwi. with a playful glint in your eyes before shutting them and crossing your arms.

“you shouldn’t do that to a lady you know.” upon hearing this. daehwi froze in his spot, hoping he didn’t offend you. you looked at his stance through your eyelashes, seeing how tense he was, you relaxed your expression and chuckled. daehwi took this as a sign that he was in the clear.

“daehwi. you didn’t do anything wrong, i was just joking with you.” you sighed out, still amazed at how seemingly wonderful your acting skills were. maybe you should consider dropping chemistry and take drama instead.

“okay good. i genuinely thought you would dislike me…” he mumbled the last part under his breath, hoping you wouldn’t catch it. but little did he know, you have perfect hearing. so you did hear everything he said and you felt your blood rushing to your face once again.

after a short period of silence. you looked back at the book that was still in your arms, completely forgetting the reason why you had planned to phone him in the first place. so you awkwardly stood in front of daehwi and handed him the textbook. honestly speaking, this scene felt like the cliched love letter scene. except its a chemistry textbook and not a confession letter.

seemingly lost in thought, daehwi was slightly shocked at the sudden movement from you, only to reveal his chemistry textbook in your hands.

after seeing his reaction to your seems-like-a-love-confession-but-its-not attempt at returning his textbook, you couldn’t hold it in anymore and started laughing out loud. scaring an already frightened daehwi.

“um.. y/n..? is there something wrong? are you okay?” your laugh continues to escape from your lungs, though you wanted to hold it in.

“no. i’m.. fine.. totally. yeah, i’m fine.” you said through your obnoxiously loud laugh.

you then looked at daehwi again, your gaze asking him why he isn’t taking his textbook back telepathically. and he understood you, so he walked closer to you and took the weight off your arms.

you sighed in contempt, before uttering a small “finally”. after that, you both parted ways, going back to your designated classrooms. him to chemistry and you to maths.

little did you know. after daehwi sat in his classroom, the first thing he did was open the book.

and he was shocked.

no it wasn't because of the amount of doodles that covered the white spots of the paper. but rather, the subject of these doodles. he looked through his use-to-be-pristine textbook and compared it to whatever it was now. nothing but clean. every white space he could find, he would see one of your pencil doodles. unicorns, ice-cream cones, rainbows, dolphins, and even penguins were sprawled out on his book. a new universe on each page. he knew you had always kept your childish side inside yourself, not willing to let it go nor show it to others. it might be weird, but he felt proud knowing you trusted him enough to doodle all over his textbook.

he smiled to himself. he liked it. he liked how deep you were willing to let him in, how much you trusted him. he liked how your eyes sparkle looking at waffles, he liked how a slight brush of your hand against his would send his heart flying out of him, and most importantly, he loved how oblivious you were to his obvious crush on you.

daehwi wants to tell you. he really wanted to be able to just man up and confess how he truly feels, but his brain always find ways to stop him from doing so. multiple times he was so close, but he couldn't. and he regretted it, so so much.

now, the both of you are stuck in the same relationship of "best friends". everyone around you could see how in love both of you were. you don't show it as much, but it's pretty obvious how head over heels daehwi is for you.

he let out a sigh, looking back at the bulk of paper in front of him. the class continues as usual, not understanding the running contradictions inside daehwi's head as he sat in his spot, flicking through the pages to study your adorable additions to his once boring book.

class went by quickly while he was looking at your markings on the paper and he quickly packed up when the bell rang. he had the widest grin on his face and he couldn't wipe it off. not that he was complaining.

you noticed daehwi walk out of his classroom, and naturally, you waited for him to slowly make his way towards you. you glanced at him, not wanting him to see you eyeing him. it wasn't unusual for him to be bubbly and happy, but you've never seen such a wide and genuine grin plastered on his face before. you felt a little sad, not knowing you were the reason for his smile.

"y/n."

you slightly flinched at his voice, it was gentle but demanding at the same time. you slowly turned around in an almost cartoon way, he saw your hesitation and smiled at you, letting you know that he was not angry.

"i really wish you would tell me that you liked doodling. and its ice-cream and unicorns and rainbows too..." you casted your gaze towards the floor, slightly ashamed at your choice of subject. but daehwi wasn't mad at you, he was far from that. he was enchanted by how your heart held on to these fantasies and lively colors, unlike his which was black and white until you came into his life.

"i'm sorry..." your voice was barely above a whisper. daehwi continued to silently gaze at you, not saying a single thing. you looked up at him, eyes glazed over with forming tears. immediately, that sent daehwi into a panic. he rushed to you, trapping you in a bear hug.

"shh... don't cry. i don't want to see you cry. i only ever want to see you smile." daehwi whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. daehwi slightly parted from you, creating some space in between the two of you, and moved his hand up to caress your face to look into your glossy round orbs. he could see his reflection in your eyes and he saw how worried he looked. well, what can he say? he is worried.

he cleared his throat to hopefully gain some confidence in what he was about to do. you noticed his not-so-usual actions and looked up at him, arms still wrapped around his waist, waiting for him to say something.

"y/n? can you listen to me for a moment?" you nodded your head and hummed, hoping that it would help him get whatever he wanted to say out of him. daehwi took another deep breath, threading his fingers in your hair, and opened his mouth to speak his mind.

"the little drawings you did in my textbook is still totally uncalled for." you looked at him in the eyes, pretending to be offended by his words. he gave you a look and you retreated back into your right of course, we made a deal whoops expression.

after a couple of seconds had gone by again, daehwi continued his unfinished statement. "but i loved it, just like how i love you." he said the second part in the tiniest font and you looked at him, shocked that this kind of cheesiness came out of his mouth. at this, you felt your face heating up again as small droplets of water rolled down your cheeks. before daehwi could even open his mouth to ask what happened, you got onto your toes and pecked him on the lips.

"i love you too, daehwi."

daehwi was visibly flushed at the sudden contact, but he recovered quickly, pulling you close once again to indulge in your hug. the both of you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of the school cafeteria as loud cheers were heard, shocking you as they congratulated the new couple.

✎ — masterlist

#daehwi #ab6ix #daehwi scenarios #daehwi imagines #ab6ix scenarios #ab6ix imagines #lee daehwi #ab6ix daehwi #ab6ix fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #g:fluff #m:daehwi #!#!full

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nedxwynert · 6 years ago

Text

Unique | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Hope was very little when you saw that your boyfriend was cheating on you, thinking that there's nothing to live for until you meet a nice man who caught your eye.

Warnings: mentions of a breakup, heartbreak, few swear words, cheesy (I know, I'm sorry)

Word Count: 2,074 (whoops)

Masterlist

(Gif not mine)

Your thumbs type over the keyboard of your phone, hearing the clicks it makes whenever a letter was typed as you made your way through the downtown market of Bucharest, passing by people as they weren't in the best clothing, but it was all they had. You felt bad for them, and it always breaks your heart when you saw a child starving and did what you could to give them some cash or the rest of your food that you bought. But today, you just wanted to go pick some food and scurry back to your little destitute apartment. Today was also the day your boyfriend--. Well. Ex boyfriend, had texted you back after a while since you had caught him cheating with some girl who worked at the coffee shop you two went to.

Of course he would. Who would want someone like you? You sit in your room dreaming, drawing, grabbing novels to read almost 24/7 when most people just want to either get in your pants, steal money, or wanted to go out to parties and rub against guys and get drunk off your ass. You only just wanted to smell and paint the roses. You were done with those days of waking up with a hangover and getting in trouble with the law.

But 5 months ago when you walked in on him, smothering his lips all over that girl in the back of that cafe. That was the last you saw him, and that whole month you've spent crying a river over him, it felt like a never ending heartbreak. And the one thing that was hard for you, was to not think of him and just try to man up to it. You'd knew that would happen to you one day, but it hurts to admit it that you would ever think of such a thing.

You did your best of trying to be friends with new people to get the thought of him off your mind, but they turned you away. You tried to drink the thoughts away, but you couldn't try and lacked the money for alcohol. You read books that you got from the library, but they somehow made you think more of him. Weeks you spent on doing every little thing possible to push that bastard you loved out of your mind. And now he's texting you, telling you that he messed up when all you wanted to do is forget about his existence and try to live a normal life without falling in love. Cause all you knew was that someone is just gonna come along and ruin your life even more.

Once another text came in, you felt the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, fumbling with the phone and shook your head while you stuffed it in your coat pocket, searching the fruit stands nearby to clear your mind. You haven't slept in days. Well, not good as you only got a few hours of sleep each night, dark circles around your eyes, nose red from rubbing it with tissues when you were crying and your cloths a slight mess from the lack of energy to go to the laundromat to wash them.

You looked like hell. Felt like hell especially.

Your (eye colour) orbs scanned the fruits that laid out in crates, scanning the prices as your teeth bit at your lower lip. Damn it. How much money did you bring?

"Would you like to purchase some fruit, miss? We got some good tasting local fruit that is picked just for you." The man who ran the stand looked over to you, seeing that he wore a white apron that was a bit dirtied up from dirt, fruit juices, and perhaps age from the looks on the edges of the fabric as it was worn out from how much it was used. You could tell he was trying to get you to buy some from how nice he was trying to be.

A fake smile curled to your lips as you saw the plums that were in front of you, knowing that the money in your purse wouldn't be able to purchase as much as you want. Small plums might waste your money when there might be something else more filling elsewhere. Fuck. Why did prices have to go up?

"No, sir. I don't think th-" A body came up next to you and cut you off from your words. It was a male. Rather tall and wore a dark red shirt, a cap on his head, and a brown coat over him that looked old from its looks.

"A few for the lady and I," the male spoke as he handed over a few plums to the man to bag while he shoved his gloved hand in his coat pocket to get his money to pay while you stood there next to him, looking at him from the side. His hair was jaw length, brown, and he had a slight beard. Then you saw his eyes. Blue as the skies like the pictures you saw of California in your books.

The moment was awkward while he paid for you when you would hear him thank to the man before handing the white bag to you, a soft smile forming his lips as those sky blue eyes looked down at you. God, he was tall.

"I saw that you looked hungry. Here." Hands took the bag as you couldn't part your eyes from the man that just bought you your dinner for tonight.

"Th-thank you. You didn't have to-"

"No no," he gave out a breathy short chuckle. "Don't thank me. I uh..I just wanted to be nice." Thank goodness. Someone who actually can show some niceness in this city. "Besides, I hope you don't mind sharing." And there was that smile again. It made your cheeks light up.

"No. Um." You couldn't help but look down and giggle softly before fixing your hair to be tucked behind one ear then looks back up to the man. "I really don't mind. Not at all."

"Maybe we could sit down for a bit? You look almost to the brink of passing out." Of course you did. If it wasn't for your fucked up relationship with your asshole of a ex boyfriend, you wouldn't be in this hell. A simple nod from you made him motion you to walk with him as he started to head to where there was a bench available to sit on to eat. Damn it. You swore everyone could hear your dying stomach growl from how hungry you wanted to have what this wonderful man bought you.

You two walked for a while till you found a spot that was quiet and sat down, your muscles relaxing as you didn't know you were so tensed up till you sat down. The skies were clouded over and it made the place even more gloomy, added with the poor people who walked around and begging for food or money. That's when your attention drew to the man who was now sinking his teeth in a juicy plum, his eyes looking ahead of him.

"May I ask. Who are you?" He didn't look at you as he had to pause for a while. Did he even hear you? Or could he be possibly making up a name in his head?

"My name is Bucky." The tone of his voice became deeper while he rested his elbows on his legs, his eyes keeping off you as you kept yours on him. He was so mysterious, you just wanted to know so much about of him.

"Where are you from, Bucky?" That's when you got his attention as he would look down to the floor before moving his head to you, some strands of his hair falling over his face. It looked as if he was asked a difficult math equation in math class.

"Would it uh." He chuckles nervously. "Sound crazy if I said that I don't know, really?" The fuck? How could no one know where they're from? Was he born on the side of a road and just never knew where he was and just walked around till today?

"You don't know where you're from?" You spoke in a bit of shock.

"No. It's uh. How do I put it? Like I can't remember most of my life." His face became more relaxed and his lips formed in a straight line, seeing pain in his eyes as it kinda made you feel bad for the man.

"I'm sorry to hear that. That's sad. Do you even know your parents' names?" Slumping back on the bench, you became even more curious for this man who couldn't remember most of his life.

"No...I don't." Once he took another bite of his plum, it became silent between you two, hearing the birds and the sounds of a city normally makes, but then he looks over at you , a soft look in his eyes that was surely making you melt right there on the bench. "What about you? What's your name?"

"It's (name). Dumb name, I know. Parents named me after one of their ancestors." Precious blue eyes looked at you and smiled when he finally knew what to call you now. This time, he showed some of his perfect teeth which surprised you a bit by how nice they looked for a man who said he doesn't remember most of his life.

"It's beautiful, for a woman like yourself." Beautiful? You? Oh hell no. Now you know he's just trying to flatter you.

"Euh, I disagree with you on that. I'm a complete mess." Your hands pointed to your clothes and the lack of makeup, tangled hair, and the dark circles under your eyes. But it seemed like he didn't care at all to it. Must be used to it from other woman here. "After my stupid boyfriend, I've been even more of a mess than before." God, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. Your eyes began to water and you tried to turn your face away from how hurt you looked again at the thought of your horrible heartbreak, but you felt a cool touch like metal on your chin and turned your face to Bucky as his hand had wiped away the tears you didn't realize that had rolled down your cheeks. You just met the man and now you're starting to break down in front of him. Wow. So perfect of you. What else would you do? Start telling him your terrible life you're living? Yeah, cause that'll totally make him want to spend time with you.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to start crying in front of you." Those blue eyes looked at your now red ones as his hand didn't leave your cheek as he was warm and tried your best to not lean too much into his hand as it felt good to be touched in a nice way instead of wanting to get in your pants or slapped at.

You two giggled for a little bit as you looked at each other for a bit as it felt actually nice to be in Bucky's company. He looked like as if he knew exactly how you felt and calmed you down instantly without saying a single word. It became awkward after a few minutes of staring at each other and you saw that he had managed to finish his plum, which you haven't even touched your three others that were in the white plastic bag. "Do you actually like plums or did you just buy them for just me?" You said to break the silence.

"No. I really like them, actually. They're my most favourite and they're like candy to me." There's that smile you adored and you thought of something funny, making you giggle a bit as it made him tilt his head out of curiosity of what could make you giggle since he didn't say anything. Maybe it was what he said? He didn't know.

"You want to hear a secret?" A simple nod came from him as you smiled...a smile you haven't made in a long time, not realizing that you were doing that as the man made you so comfortable that everything you knew of pain vanished from your thoughts.

"I love them too."

Thank you for reading! Did you enjoy? If so, please consider to heart and reblog. Many writers today don’t get much credit for the hard work they put into their writing. And with that, have a wonderful day! :)

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barns x reader #marvel #MCU #captain america civil war #civil war #Winter Solider #unique #breakup #heartbreak #angst?#maybe #cheesy #super cheesy #sorry #i wrote this a long time ago #bucharest #romania #i love him

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osmw1 · 6 years ago

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Dimension Wave Chapter 28 — Drawing Aggro

“Ow… are you kidding me?! 5,000 points of damage with a single hit?!”

Even though I was in light armor, Cerberus hit me way too hard considering that I was in a defensive stance. I didn’t actually feel any pain, but that much damage was enough to make me wince.

5,000. Raid bosses in other games have a lot of attack too, but it’s almost as if Dimension Wave’s objective was to kill off players. In any case, I couldn’t respawn, so I had better make sure this was the last time I get hit. I turned to face Cerberus again. It would be dangerous if I stayed in this position. Cerberus looked like it was about to attack again.

“Tsugumi! If you’re out of MP, then fall back for now!” “O-Okay!” “Sorry, Shouko, but we’ll have to tough it out for the next little while!” “I understand! Tsugumi…” “What is it?” “You were very cool.” “… shut up.”

Tsugumi muttered out as she withdrew from the frontline. Well, I’m sure she’s proud of herself too, but I bet she’s embarrassed to be complimented like that by another girl.

“Big bro…” “Hmm?”

She moved behind a tank with a shield before calling out to me. Her scythe may be bulky, but her medium armor allowed her to evade and it seems like she didn’t take damage.

“Why did you come save me?” “Because we need you to deal damage later… or at least that’s my excuse.” “I thought so.” “It’s because I’m your older brother, I think.”

I don’t think I’d risk life and limb if it were anyone else—save for the three girls in my party. It’s not like I’m noble enough to try to save everyone.

“But Spirits are…” “Why are you worrying about it? 5,000 is but a bee sting… well, not really, but… I mean, umm, it’s not a lot either?”

I wanted to play it cool, but now that I do some mental math, it really was quite a big blow. It’s a game. This much is expected. Grinding isn’t everything and I love just hanging out and chatting with my friends, so that’s not a waste of a time. But still, especially because I’m a Spirit, I don’t want to throw my life away.

“That’s right! Spirts don’t let their friends die on their watch!”

I know exactly how much it sucks to lose Energy, so that’s why I really don’t want anyone to sacrifice their lives. We’ve got to aim for the best and beat the status quo. That’s what it means to be a Spirit! I blurted that out loud, but surely, that’s a good response.

“Miss Kizuna…” “Agh.”

As soon as I made my excuses, Yamikage popped out from nowhere. I bet she witnessed everything. And I mean everything… Oh, god. That’s so embarrassing.

“Miss Kizuna… how wonderfully moving art thy words!” “Huh? Huh…”

I questioned her a second time before I fully comprehended what she had said.

“I wish to offer myself to the party.” “… okay?” “Perhaps we could have thy sister join our party.”

What, are you going to use a support skill or something? There’s lots of different targets for support skills, including self, all, party only, and so on. For example, my Speed Gutting is a self-buff.

“Can we do that, Tsugumi?” “Yep. Should be possible.” “Then I’ll send a message over group leader chat to let Roz know.”

There were countless people dedicated to fighting one monster. There’s no way I could pick Roz out from the crowd, but I can use leader chat to contact him.

‘Roz, I know you’re here! Just wanted to let you know I’m borrowing Tsugumi!’

I shouted out loud and someone shouted back. That’s gotta be him. Then, I opened up the party menu to invite my little sister.

—You have sent Tsugumi an invitation to your party.

“She’s in the party now, Yamikage.” “Aye, then I shall use my recently acquired skill.”

Yamikage then casted a skill as she tends to do. It took but a second; much quicker than Drain.

“Energy Converter!”

Greenish white orbs began to flow from Yamikage to Tsugumi once she exclaimed her skill. Honestly, I was a little weird out seeing her use a skill other than Drain. Tsugumi looked in astonishment at her as well.

“MP recovery?” “‘tis a skill for all Spirits for transferring Energy to another party member.” “What, does it heal HP and MP for non-Spirits, then?” “Aye, verily.”

That’s a pretty handy skill. But why does only Yamikage have it’s for all Spirits? From the discussions on skills with Shouko, she’s never mentioned this one. Maybe it’s really hard to unlock.

“So that skill, what are the unlock requirements for it?” “‘tis to gain more than 1,000,000 Energy.” “… what did you say?”

That must mean total accumulated Energy over 1,000,000 from the start of the game. But even then, it definitely takes time and effort to get there, especially considering that Yamikage loses 3,000 Energy each hour. I guess she must have gotten used to it before she even met us.

“I don’t know exactly how much Energy it burns but are you okay with it?” “I have no doubts as I have been moved by your words, Miss Kizuna. Not to mention, I currently have more Energy than I need.” “… alright, then, please.” “Aye, aye!”

Yamikage casted Energy Converter again. It seems like it’ll take at least five times to get Tsugumi back to full MP, but it should get her back to full operating efficacy soon. After three times, Tsugumi was already itching to get back into the fray.

“That’s good enough! I’mma join the fight!” “Aye, very well. I can cast it at medium range, so I shall keep at it!” “Gotcha. Thanks, girl!”

Tsugumi gave Yamikage a big smile before jumped back to face Cerberus. Shouko had been working extra hard to compensate for the missing Tsugumi. Analyzing its attack pattern, each of Cerberus’ three heads are controlled by different AI since each head attacks a different target. I’m not 100% sure, but it seems like it saves its fire breath to attack the ranged attackers. As it tries to spit fire, Shouko attacked its face to mess up the monster’s aim. Then right after, Cerberus targeted Shouko. Instead of dodging, she aimed squarely for its right arm…

“Wild Dance, the Fourth: White Feather Reversal!”

Shouko caught Cerberus’ attack with her folding fan and activated her skill, dealing a great blow. … that’s a counter, eh? You see skills like that in fighting games. You can only activate them when your opponent attacks. It’s hard to use since you’ve gotta predict the enemy’s attack, but it usually deals quite a lot of damage. I don’t know how strong Shouko’s was, but I bet it was very powerful too.

“Soul Size!”

Tsugumi joined the battle and attacked all three of the monster’s heads. Does each head have its own individual health bar? I’m guessing each head is separate from the torso too. There might be a separate health bar for its arms too.

“Damn! The boss isn’t focusing on anybody! We’ll fall apart like this!”

It was a tank who shouted out loud. He has a point. Cerberus was switching between Tsugumi and Shouko, then sometimes it attacked other allies with its flames and tail. It makes sense why this was happening, but it wasn’t a good situation for our archers and mages. Archers wear light armor and mages wear robes. Neither have really good defense. We’d be out of luck if they get wiped out by the boss. It’d be awesome if I could draw hate from just even one of its heads!

“I’ll try to pull aggro from the head that spits fire!”

I whipped out my Rod of Humanoid Timber from my inventory. Frankly, this isn’t equipment suited for the battlefield. I moved past the tanks and archers. From a distance, I could see that Shouko and Tsugumi were like acrobats zipping around the boss. If I moved far enough, maybe it’d look like a circus or something. I guess that’s just how much better they are than me…

“Looks like the head in the middle is the one that breathes fire…”

Damn! It moves around too quickly but I have to give it my best shot!

“Hate & Lure!”

A blue light glowed as my sinker bounced off Cerberus’ head. It looked over my way… except it was really targeting the archers instead. If it doesn’t work the first time, I just have to try over and over again.

“Hate & Lure!”

I used the skill three times in a row. Hate is accumulative, so luring it from range took quite some time. Whoa! It looks like it’s totally ready to bathe me in flames! I stepped to the side and away from the archers. The fire barely managed to toast me for 1,500 points of damage. I’m glad the other girls can evade so easily, but unfortunately, I couldn’t do acrobatics like they can.

However, the effect was great. The archers and mages came out completely unscathed, meaning we still had a chance of winning. Alrighty. Lemme use it once again. This time, Hate & Lure hit its left arm. Crap, it’s swinging right at me.

“Fast Shield!” “… oh, hey, Roz.”

Roz tanked for me with his shield skill. Naturally, I was unharmed. It looks like the skill did what it’s supposed to do.

“Kizuna, you keep drawing aggro and I’ll cover you. If it targets you, I’ll be able to melee attack it too.”

A bunch of players drew near with powerful two-handed axes and two-handed swords, all clad in medium armor. It’d be ridiculous to expect everyone to be as acrobatic as Shouko and Tsugumi, I guess. Oh, and it seems that most taunting attacks are melee skills, making Hate & Lure pretty rare. The downside is that its damage is absolutely trash. I think this skill is actually meant for luring fish instead of monsters. Well, I’ve gotta make do. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Gotcha! Now let’s take down the beast with your powerful skills!” “Leave it to us. Let’s go!”

Arrows, spells, and arms all worked together to take down the boss. This was the beginning of the end of Dimension Wave.

contents: /prologue/ /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /ch027/ /ch028/ /next/

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jimlingss · 8 years ago

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His Name [3]

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 Words: 6.6k Genre: Angst, Multiple Personality!Au Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a puzzle with too many missing pieces from his past and too many sides. Somehow, it’s become your job to solve him. → Inspired by the Korean Drama - Kill Me Heal Me Warnings: Topics of mental health, mentions of death and medical disorders. Disclaimer: Although this piece of work required lots of in-depth research and was attempted to be as accurate as possible, at the end of the day, I am not a psychologist and this is fanfiction. Specific things may be altered or exaggerated for story-telling purposes. Please take all medical terminologies and procedures with a grain of salt.

The memories haven’t all but disappeared.

They’re covered, somewhere in the depths of his most vulnerable mind - for reasons you don’t know. It’s a puzzle with thousands of missing pieces but Jungkook is slowly being able to assemble some corners together; a mural gradually becoming tangible.

“I’ve been thinking…” His clammy hands rub together. “And I think I can remember….something.”

“Can you describe it to me?”

His lids flutter shut, a scrunch between his brows as he dives into the vague images. “My mother. It’s my fifth birthday. And I’m outside in the backyard. There are some balloons tied to the fence. I’m throwing one up into the air. It’s blue and really pretty against the sky, floating and drifting slowly. I remember just staring at it before my mother brings out the cake. She smiles at me and then someone...someone….calls my name.”

“Jungkook!”

“ I...I don’t kno- ugh.” He opens his eyes again, clutching his head within his hands as it throbs. “I don’t know. It was someone...someone important to me. They’re important...really important..”

“Jungkook.” You call him in a firm voice and he sits back up, looking into your orbs. You smile warmly at him. “It’s okay. That’s a lot of improvement! You’re doing a very good job. This takes a lot of time but you’re already starting to remember things.” He nods, lips upturning at your praise. “Can you tell me more about your mom? Do you remember anything specific about her?”

“She used to...she used to garden and paint…?” His eyes shine brighter, voice holding more conviction as he begins to remember again. “My mother really loved to paint.”

You can see the spark of interest light in his eyes, a smile growing at his lips. “Do you paint Jungkook?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t paint...anymore. I used to draw a lot. I do still love art though.”

“Why didn’t you continue with it?”

His eyes flicker to the floor before meeting yours, anguish laced in his features. “My father disapproved of it.”

He shrugs and you sense his discomfort, a desire to move onto a different topic.

You ask a few questions on what it was like to live with his grandparents, the time he spent at the boarding school and what it was like when he came back. From his answers, it seems like he loved his grandparents dearly. Despite being left there by his father, you observe how detached Jungkook is when he speaks about him; their father-son relationship doesn’t appear to be stable.

Jungkook tells you about the three years spent at the boarding school. At the beginning, he was outcasted by the other students - largely due to his withdrawn nature. But, towards the end of his first year, he became well acquainted with a few other students and became a teacher favourite. Unfortunately, all his friends were merely skin deep and he never got too close to them.

These were the years that he began to have missing memories, appearing in places that he never remembered going to, conversations he apparently had with others but didn’t. Jungkook can’t pinpoint the exact time but these were the years that he developed his disorder.

“What’s it like to work at your father’s company?”

“It’s fine.” He responds. “It’s work.”

“Do you interact with your father a lot?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No. He gives me things to do sometimes - projects, meetings, clients. I might see him around but other than that, no. We don’t talk to each other.”

He had told you that the years of coming back home and going through university were all a blur. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything important. He felt like an outsider in his own home. His step-mother, though never went out of her way to harm him, never went out of her way to make him feel welcome either. The friends he made while studying were calculated moves told by his father, relationships he could build to solidify the company’s position. They were never genuine. He was never genuine.

His disorder became worse and worse as time went on. The blackouts became more frequent, lasting a longer time. People began to notice and with so many missed classes, he had to put in hard effort to graduate on time. He couldn’t even keep his own head on his shoulders, nevermind creating and sustaining friendships or relationships.

“How often do you feel high strung when you’re working?”

Jungkook frowns and then shrugs. “Often…?”

You nod, taking note that if the opportunity arises, you should observe his behaviour in the workplace.

Evaluation Report #2 Patient: Jeon Jungkook Diagnosis: Dissociative Identity Disorder -Patient generally switches when experiencing panic, anxiety and/or a loss of control. -As observed, the patient's most effective method to return to a normal state is through close proximity, physical touch and/or affection. -Building a strong relationship between clinician and patient is essential but boundaries must be set. Avoid physical contact if possible. Patient must learn how to regain control on his own in case no one is present during his switches. -Improving his control over his emotions is very crucial. -Based on observations, the patient has a tendency to cut off the outside world and stay indoors. It is recommended to increase time spent outside for the patient. -Uncovering the patient’s memories will most likely lead to the cause and root of his disorder. Further investigations are required.*

“Thank you so much for doing this.” You wipe some of your sweat, standing up straight.

“It’s…” Mr. Jinkey huffs out as he drags the bag of soil. “...no problem.” He dusts his hands together, steadying his breath. “You can call me anytime Miss Y/N. But can I ask you what this is all for?”

You smile, looking at the five bags of soil, the fertilizer and the new watering cans. “Just thought it would be nice to do some gardening.”

When you drag Jungkook outside, his expression tells you it’s anything but nice.

He’s frowning, mouth parted and eyes filled with disgust. He slows down in his steps, apprehension taking hold of his limbs. It’s as if you’re going to give him a math equation to solve.

“What...is this?”

You’re ingenious. Jungkook needed to develop more time to go outside and if he planted vegetables, it could help improve his diet. Gardening was also one of his mother’s hobbies. It might or might not uncover more of his childhood memories. It was worth a shot and you were killing three birds with one stone.

“Oh, c’mon. Lighten up, Kook.” You nudge him and he looks with wide eyes into the empty planter box. “Don’t you want to garden?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” You turn on your heel, grabbing the bag of soil. “You have no choice. Now go move it wherever you want it to be.”

From the corner of your eye, you catch his little pout and a smile wiggles up your lips.

Jungkook picks up the wooden, garden box and puts it underneath the window next to his stone patio. When he spots that you’re struggling with pulling the bag, he shifts your hands off. “Here.” He mutters before hoisting it up into his arms. “I don’t get why we have to do this…”

“Because it’s fun…and if we do it successfully, they’ll be tomatoes, peppers...carrots...” You follow him. “It can be our project.”

“Ours?” He questions and when you motion towards the rectangle, he dumps the contents out.

“Jin, one of your alters, usually takes care of the garden.”

“Oh….” Jungkook takes a look around as if never before noticing how well kept it is.

“But this will be our project. No one but me and you, Jungkook, will be able to touch this planter box. No strangers, no one familiar and not even your alters. Just me and you.”

He frowns, thinking for a second as he tilts his head in skepticism. Jungkook looks to the ground as he walks back to take another bag of soil. As he returns, you notice a suppressed smile on his face; perhaps trying to conceal a huge grin.

You beam at him and he clears his throat. “Well...it’s not a horrible idea. I guess it sounds good.”

“Good.”

The both of you are kneeling in the grass, having poured in all the dirt and fertilizer to the top of the box. With a trowel in your hand, you’re digging tiny holes for him to drop the seeds in.

“You know…” He looks up past his sweaty bangs. “...I never realized how nice this garden is. Who did you say takes care of it?”

“Jin. Seokjin? He’s twenty years old. Cooks. Cleans. Tells bad puns.”

“Twenty years old?!” Jungkook’s mouth drops.

You let a giggle slip past your lips. “Yeah. Why?”

“I think he’s the one who keeps buying Mario plushies online. I thought he was ten or something.” He mumbles and you laugh again. “Sometimes I see sticky notes laying around the house and there's always a list of chores on them...or they’re telling me how messy the house is. I think they’re from him.”

“Sounds like it.” You catch Jungkook shaking his head. His smile disappears for a second before it grows even bigger. “What’s wrong?”

“No. I just heard in the back of my mind, a really loud ‘YAH!’.” He scrunches up his nose, dumping out the rest of the contents out of the seed packet into the last hole before you cover it up with the topsoil.

He’s beside you as you fill up the watering cans with the hose. “How do you feel about going outdoors, Jungkook?”

He hums. “It’s fine I guess.”

“Do you feel better?”

“I guess I do.” Jungkook looks around at the luscious green grass, plush like a carpet underneath his feet. His eyes flicker to the flower bushes before up at the cerulean canvas. “I should go outside more.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea.”

He mutters under his breath as he leans over to turn off the nozzle- “but I don’t have anyone to go-”

“I’ll go.” You pipe up and he looks back at you with wide eyes.

“Wha-”

“You’ll always have me.” You reassure him, standing up and handing him one of the two watering cans. “You’re not alone, Jungkook. You should remember that - you’re really not alone.”

Jungkook follows behind you with his lips upturned. When you turn around to steal a glance, he immediately looks away with a blank expression and when you face forward again, his smile returns.

“Did you ever do anything similar with your mother?”

He scours his brain and his memories. “I think so….I had a smaller watering can. It was yellow..with a huge star on it. But I remember getting yelled at for overwatering the plants...by someone...”

“Do you remember who it was?”

There’s a delay in his answer, a huff of defeat that barely comes out as a weak whisper- “no.”

“It’s okay. You’ll remember eventually.” You reassure him and he nods. The atmosphere becomes heavy with his frown and after watering the entire planter box, there’s still some water left in your can.

You slosh it around until your eyes twinkle with mischief and you look up at the concentrated boy. The moment you swing the handle back and a stream of water launches into the air, he smoothly dodges by stepping to the side.

“What. are. you. doing?!” He grins at your startled expression.

“How did you avoid that?”

“Try me.” His hand motions for you to come, pupils flashing with competitiveness.

“Oh it’s on.” You step forward, trying to splash him again but he giggles, running out the way and making the water soak into the grass. “You’re going to have to try harder than that!”

The both of you end up chasing each other around the backyard, trying to drench the other. Somehow, he gets the upper hand and manages to dump his entire can over your head. Your shirt becomes completely soaked and he falls to the ground in breathless giggles, clutching onto his stomach.

Not accepting defeat, you run off to the hose and you blast him with the hardest setting. You shoot mercilessly, opening fire until his clothes become so soaked that he might as well be in a laundry machine; his shirt becoming thin material and barely hanging off his shoulders and arms. Yet, as he screams and shrieks for you to stop in the midst of his laughter, ‘god Y/N! Stop!’, you pretend not to hear.

“Hmm?! What was that?!” You shout, moving the hose to spray his whole body length.

Even though the water is on the roughest setting, he runs up to you, slapping the hose out of your hands. A yelp leaves your lips as he takes the fabric of his shirt and slaps you with it like it’s a wet towel. Jungkook threatens to hug you, make you as drenched as he is but you duck away before he gets the chance.

Eventually, the two of you pass out in the plush grass, letting the beaming sun dry you off. Your chest is still heaving and when you take a peek beside you. He’s wearing the brightest of smiles.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed so hard.

It happens the next day, one early morning.

You’re sipping on some hot coffee, filling out and finishing some documents. It’s then that a knock on the door shatters your concentration. Jungkook pops his head through the gap and nervously asks, while scratching the back of his neck, if you want to join him at his office.

It’s something you had mentioned that you wanted to do before. You’re aware that he often switches to his alters with the high stress environment there; you needed to observe him in those circumstances. Thus, you happily shut off your laptop and got ready.

“I’ve already told my secretary that you’re just an assistant.” Jungkook mutters to you, his face void of emotion and his voice more serious than you’ve ever heard. “Do you need anything or are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

You work in the corner of his office, looking up once in a while from your laptop to study him. It’s quiet for the most part except for the tapping of keyboards, flipping through stacks of paper and the breaks to sip on coffee. You muse how awfully lonely it is if he’s cooped up in his office all day for hours on end.

When he goes to a meeting, you sit in the back of the conference room, listening and watching. He easily gives the presentation, stuttering only a few times in front of the room and answering some questions. But at some point, you notice a difference. He becomes more confident and eloquent, responding with extensive knowledge and in pensive mannerisms.

“Jungkook?” You approach him after the meeting is finished and everyone is filtering out the room.

He looks up at you carefully but doesn’t reply, making you follow behind him as he walks off to his office. Once you close the door and he places the stack of sheets onto his desk, he clears his throat. “Unfortunately, I am not Jungkook.” He smiles, slight dimples creasing on each side of his cheek.

You shake his hand and he firmly nods. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Y/N. My name is Kim Namjoon.”

“It’s a..pleasure to meet you too.”

“I know you might have some questions for me but I’m swamped with work at the moment. I’ll make sure to devote time to you later if that’s alright with you.” He takes a seat and you slowly nod, caught off guard with how polite he is.

“Y-yes. That’s fine.”

“Great.” He clasps his hands together, looking at his monitor. As you make your way back to the coffee table in the corner, he speaks up. “Oh! I don’t know if Jungkook has mentioned this to you - I believe it might’ve slipped his mind - but there’s a business dinner later this evening. It’ll be with Jungkook’s father, stepmother and a few shareholders. I’m sorry that it might seem abrupt.”

“O-oh. No it’s perfectly fine. I’m okay with that.” You immediately look down to your attire. You’re in a plain white blouse and a black pencil skirt with heels - it’s the standard office outfit but it might be underdressed for a business dinner.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” He reaffirms in a strong voice. “You look perfectly fine.”

He’s looking down and shuffling through the files, preoccupied but also seemingly aware of your worries. “Thank you, Namjoon.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” He murmurs out but a second later, he looks back at you. “Oh and one more thing. You should call me Jungkook around this office. We don’t want to let other people overhear and become confused. After all….” He downcasts his orbs, shoulders slumping for a mere heartbeat and a slight wash of sadness appears on his face. “I…”

He’s supposed to be Jungkook.

Despite taking care of almost all the work, Namjoon isn’t the one who can take the credit for it.

“I understand.” You interject before he can finish. He nods gratefully before returning.

Namjoon is prim and proper. He holds a regal aura, intimidating in a way that you wonder if he came from noble blood. Each time he speaks, you notice how he thinks carefully and in every action, he considers the consequences. Regardless of being eloquent in the way he presents himself, he’s rather clumsy. At some point, he knocks his pen holders down and you help him collect them from the floor. He spills coffee all over his desk. He bumps into the copier machine while walking out the office. He trips over his shoes before getting to the car.

And with each clumsy mistake, he always does a quick look around to see if anyone’s seen. When you bite down on your lip, trying to hold in a laugh, he sends a sheepish smile before clearing his throat and pretending it never happened.

“Here.” He opens your palm up, placing the car keys in your hand. “You drive.”

“Me?”

“I don’t know how to drive.” He admits with embarrassment. “It’s safer for humanity that way.”

You don’t need much more of an explanation after observing him the entire day.

You nod, letting him know that it’s nothing to be shameful about and he looks at you appreciatively before getting into the passenger seat. The two of you don’t chat with each other, Namjoon preoccupied on his phone and answering some business phone calls. When you arrive at the restaurant with his directions, he introduces you to the older men, keeping to your title as assistant.

Jungkook’s father arrives shortly after, scrutinizing the both of you with stone cold eyes. Jungkook’s stepmother is hugging onto his arm, nodding her head to you in acknowledgement and you suppose she knows the true nature of your relationship with the boy.

“-and so, I believe that the next project will gravely raise the position of our company in the market.”

Namjoon is sly. No one in their right mind wants to discuss work, business dinner or not. At the beginning, he inquired about the family and personal life of each shareholder; sharing interests in their newfound hobbies. Somehow and someway, before you’ve even realized it, he’s eased himself into pitching the next deal. He’s got you charmed with his words.

The old men laugh with their bellies full. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. You’ve got me in.”

Another nods. “I’m caught too.”

“Mr. Jeon, you have quite the son.”

The waiter swoops by, taking away your finished dish and you motion to them thankfully.

Mr. Jeon scoffs lightly, his wife swirling her wine in her glass by his side. “He’s not much...really. There’s more than meets the eye.”

“He seems like a very intelligent and bright boy.”

Jungkook’s father scrutinizes from the corner of his eye. He chuckles cruelly as he shakes his head. “He’s a good for nothing son. He’s always been and always will be a disappointment to me. I don’t think he’ll ever grow up. If he listened to me, if he trusted me, if he wasn’t so naive…maybe things wouldn’t had to happen the way they di-”

Namjoon’s hand suddenly slams onto the table, ricocheting off the walls. When you turn to him completely startled, you immediately recognize that it’s no longer him and he’s not Jungkook either.

“Are you done?” The voice drops a pitch lower, a growl in the back of his throat. His eyes are bitter cold.

It’s the nameless man.

The shareholders look on in surprise, Jungkook’s stepmother stops her glass mid-way from taking a sip but Jungkook’s father looks absolutely unfazed.

You notice the man’s jaw is clamped down, teeth grinding against each other and his fist is clenched in his lap. He glares at the older man brutally, ready to launch over the table and wrap his hands around the older’s neck. A pure form of hatred twists his features, made from a million resentments and miseries. “Isn’t that enou-”

You reach over discreetly under the table, placing your hand on top of his. From your warm touch, he immediately cranes his head to you. Your eyes are soft, lips turned meekly to comfort him. He eases. His shoulders relax, his jaw loosens and he returns your gaze. It’s a gaze of desperation, begging….asking you if you can try to understand him. His eyes speak more than you’re able to grasp. But before you can figure out why his expression is tangled with agony and grief, his eyes glisten over.

Jungkook’s eyes blink twice, three times but it’s still not Jungkook that returns.

“I’m so sorry for that.” Namjoon clears his throat. He flashes a perfect smile, settling everyone around the table and pacifying the tense atmosphere. “I always like to say that my father keeps me humble. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“We all need someone like that in our lives.” A suited man agrees, raising his glass for a sip.

“Oh please, Henry. You’re the last humble man on this entire planet.” Another banters with him and everyone laughs.

Despite the conversations flowing smoothly after that and there are no more swaps between the alters, there’s something in the way that Namjoon taps his foot that tells you he’s not calm in the least bit.

The sky is swirled with blue steel ink, half the moon hovering high and the stars unseen from the skyscraper lights and street lamps. It’s unfortunate that the twinkling far away glows can’t be observed in the city. But at the very least, it’s reached a point of night where there are few on the streets and few disturbances aside from an occasional car whizzing past. The air is crisp but warm, enough that you don’t have to regret merely wearing a white blouse and black skirt.

“Miss Y/N.” He stops you from walking off the curb of the pavement to the front seat of the car. “If it is alright with you, could we possibly take a short walk to the library? There’s a few books that I’m interested in and it hasn’t gotten too late yet. They’re a street down and still open.”

“Yes. It’s fine.” You nod. “And you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N. Y/N’s fine.”

The two of you walk side-by-side in serene quiet, a comfortable silence that can only be achieved with years of familiarity yet somehow resonates between the both of you. From his embarrassing antics earlier, Namjoon makes an effort to not trip, staring down at his feet and the pavement. But then he nearly drives himself into a telephone pole and a brick wall. Each time you shout or yank him back, he sheepishly thanks you.

“Here it is.” He beams, looking happier ever since the work day and business has been finished. He holds the door open for you and when you enter, Namjoon looks around the bookshelves like a child in a toy store.

“Do you like reading?”

“I do.” He sighs, closing up a book and reaching for another. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much of an opportunity to do so, with work and the others...you know.”

You follow him in each aisle. “There’s just so many interesting things. Fiction or nonfiction, there are countless stories to be told, ideas to be conveyed, knowledge that needs to be learnt...I think it’s amazing.”

“Me too.” He gleams at your response, dimples creasing his cheeks.

By the time the both of you are finished, he picks up one book and the both of you decide to take a short stroll at the adjacent park. There’s not many nearby, some old couples hand-in-hand and young ones laughing together, individuals that want to escape from the silence of their home or the bustling nightlife.

The bridge is luminous with fairy lights, reflecting off the still waters of the river. From where you’re walking, you can catch the skyline from the other side. The noise seems to drown, being so far away.

“How did you do it?”

“Hmm?” You turn to him in confusion and he sighs.

“You calmed him down. He usually would’ve hurt someone....severely. How did you do it?”

You immediately recognize who he’s talking about - the nameless man.

“You know who he is?” You stop in your tracks, eyes open wide. “What’s his name?”

Out of a million and one questions, that’s the one that spills your mouth first. But Namjoon simply shakes his head. “He wouldn’t appreciate me telling you. If you really want to know, Y/N, you should ask him yourself.”

“That’s-...can’t you just tell me?”

He smiles at your discreet pout. “No. And don’t you have a few questions to ask me? Now’s a good chance. I don’t know when I’ll be switched with another and I don’t know the next time I’ll see you.”

“Okay.” You don’t miss his expression of melancholy as the both of you settle down at the wooden bench. “How old ar-”

“My name is Kim Namjoon. I am eighteen years old and I am the personality that was created from Jungkook’s time in boarding school. I am the alter that appears when he has to conduct business.” He cuts to the chase with a sad smile.

“Wait. You’re only eighteen?”

“Yes.”

“You’re extremely mature. I thought you would be at least twenty five or thirty.”

He smiles, looking down at his clasped hands. “Knowledge doesn’t necessarily correlate to age. I have a lot to work on and I still make dumb mistakes from time to time. But I try my best.”

“Namjoon, what did you mean when you said you said that you were created from Jungkook’s time in boarding school?” You inquire, staring at his profile. He inhales a breath, sitting up straight and leaning into the bench.

“It was a...strict school to say the least.” He steals a glance from you, a gentle uplift of his lips. “It was a school for troubled rich kids and they really whip you into shape. Jungkook had a hard time, so, I came along.”

“If he messed up back then, he would’ve been sent home - that was something he was extremely afraid of.”

You frown. “Jungkook was afraid of returning home? Why?”

“Well...you probably already noticed but his relationship with his father isn’t the greatest.” He eases you with another tiny smile. “I can’t really say anymore than that. It’s not my place.”

You nod, grasping a clear understanding of what he’s willing and not willing to talk about. “Don’t you consider yourself an entirely separate person from Jungkook? Why did you say you were only a personality of his?”

“Because that’s what I am to you.” He exhales wistfully, flickering his orbs up to the moon. “You consider me, us, merely alters of Jungkook’s personality. And you’re not wrong. It doesn’t make scientific sense otherwise; for a bunch of people to be inside of him. It’s his disorder that you’re trying to cure, why would I expect you to consider anything else? It doesn’t matter what I feel. Even if I felt like I was my own person. Even if I feel like the person ‘Namjoon’ and not ‘Jungkook’. None of that matters; to you or to this world.”

Your mouth fills with cotton, unable to answer. You have nothing to refute with. It’s not like you would anyways - you don’t want to lie.

“I’m not just trying to help Jungkook. I want to help all of you.”

“I know.” His irises crinkle sincerely, a bare whisper that leaves his lips. “I know. That’s why all of us have accepted you so easily. Not only for ourselves but we care for Jungkook. We want to see him happy.”

You gaze at the man, the slope of his nose and roundness of his cheeks; it is Jungkook’s exterior but for a flicker of a moment, you can almost see someone else, someone completely different.

“With that being said..” He begins again, staring out at the city skyline and the sparkling lights. “Would it really benefit Jungkook or anyone if he remembered?”

“What do you mean?”

“The memories that you’re trying to bring back.” He sighs. “There’s a reason he forgot. There’s a reason why they’re repressed in his mind. He was hurt, Y/N.”

“By what? What was he hurt by, Namjoon?” You lean forward, probing deep with your words but he simply shakes his head. “Why was he hurt? Do you know?”

“I can’t tell you.” He tears his gaze away from yours. “It’s not my place. Would it even do any good to remember again?”

“He has to.” You press on. “It’s the only way we can fight against his…-”

You stop short, biting your lips back and he chuckles quietly. “The only way to fight against this disorder.” Namjoon speaks slowly, emphasizing each word as if it’s a knife digging deeper into his skin. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Despite Namjoon smiling, you can see the disappointment wash over.

In his mind, he thought maybe you’d be able to understand. He, the others, all of this wasn’t merely a disorder - at least in their minds. They felt real. They experienced real emotions; anger, hatred, sadness, happiness, love. But somehow they shared one body, one skin. And even to the last moment, you still thought of him purely as a personality, as an alter.

Not separate individuals.

“Namjoon. I’m sorr-”

“It’s okay. More than anyone…” He stands up with his book, lifting out his hand and when you grab onto it, he hoists you up with a smile. Two dimples, each dot the side of his cheeks but it’s all too twisted with heartache. “...I understand.”

It’s a Sunday afternoon. The office is abandoned, laptop shut and the pages of the open binder fall to the wooden floorboards from the draft of the window. Dusk light is still hours away, sunshine yellow and piercing through the enormous glass windows.

You’ve set your work aside, pulling out your mother’s old recipe book and digging around for your apron. It was still a long time before dinner but you knew you would have to get started early - always getting delayed from the messes you create when you step into the kitchen. You can’t remember the last time you cooked or made an entire homemade meal but strangely, flashbacks of over boiled pasta and ash burnt meat come to mind.

“Cabbage first.”

Oddly enough, things go pretty smoothly - aside from the fact that you nearly sliced open your hand with the knife. The water is boiling, vegetables are left steaming, the meat on the pan is sizzling and you’re starting to set the table. Cooking takes your utmost concentration and focus, multitasking and rushing from place to place. You’re not sure why you’re trying so hard, it’s not like Jungkook is a professional chef that you’re attempting to impress; nonetheless, you’re meticulous with every single dish.

“What are you doing?”

A voice interrupts and you swivel around with a grin. “Jungkook! You came right in time. Take a seat.”

His frown softens but he’s still dumbfounded, confused as he slowly drags the chair from under the table out. He plops down, eyes on the numerous piping dishes in front of him.

“Wha-”

“Aren’t you hungry?” You set down his bowl of rice, pulling out your own chair to sit down in. “Time to dig in.”

Jungkook watches as you scoop a spoonful into your mouth, scrunching up your nose when you bite into the hot egg roll. “What are you looking at me for?” You scold him, motioning your utensil to his chest. “Are you not going to eat?”

He complies, downcasting his head and pouting his lips. He reminds you of a kindergartener, a lost boy with too many doubts in his head. You can’t help but let a smile slip.

“Did you do this for me?” He takes a tiny bite, glancing up at you past his lashes.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” You grin when he sighs at your vague answer. You tease him, “Is it too salty for your tastes?”

“It’s fine.” He retorts back. “Good. Better.”

You watch him fondly. “Jungkook, when was the last time you had a meal with someone?”

He doesn’t respond for a long while, looking downwards as he takes another bite-

“Decades.”

The both of you sit in silence. Jungkook ingests it quickly, biting and chewing with full cheeks. He might even choke with the pace that he’s eating at. Yet, he keeps his eyes facing downwards, soundless and expression blank. But you notice.

From the glances that you steal, you catch the shimmering of his orbs. His nose grows red, cheeks flushed and every sniffle that he takes tells you he’s trying hard to restrain his emotions. Each time it becomes difficult to swallow with the lump in his throat, he takes spoonfuls of the soup. And when a tear finally falls onto the white table, he quickly wipes it away before you see, without knowing - you’ve already seen.

“How is it?” You keep your lips in a straight line, blinking at him kindly. “Delicious?”

He lets out a croaked “yeah”.

“What’s your favourite food, Jungkook? I’ll make it next time.”

“Next time?”

“Next time.” You reassure with a firm voice. There will be a next time. There will be countless times.

“Lamb skewers.” He says with a small upturn of his mouth. “It’s lamb skewers.”

You hum. “Doesn’t sound too hard.”

“Y/N.” He calls your name quietly and you meet his dark pupils. “Thank you.”

It was only one meal that you set aside time to make. But with him sitting across from you, his lips trembling with emotion - you already know that the small action means so much to him. His whisper whirls around the night, barely a murmur past your ears. It’s enlaced with genuine sincerity, making your chest swell from within.

It’s not suppose to be this intimate. Though somehow it is.

“Thank you.”

Jungkook insisted on cleaning up for you. He was strongly adamant about it, gathering up everything silently and making his way to the sink. You sighed, lingering around for a moment until you suddenly remembered that you had to finish a few things that you had set aside earlier. He told you to go do whatever you needed to do and you couldn’t argue.

Standing alone in the kitchen, it occurred to Jungkook that he needed, no, he wanted to do something more for you. To him, a simple ‘thank you’ wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to express how much it actually meant. He wanted to do something, anything; ask if you wanted or needed things, maybe if you wanted to go somewhere with him...maybe if you wanted to catch a movie...go have dessert.

Each step that Jungkook takes up the stairs is heavy and cautious. He doesn’t know why he feels so anxious or nervous in his own home. It’s you. You would never intentionally hurt him - that’s what he believes - and the worst that could happen was a simple rejection, a ‘no’. It wasn’t the end of the world. He could handle it. All he needed was to ask one question: if you wanted to go with him. It isn’t difficult. One question.

Jungkook dawdles outside your door, twisting the brass knob in his hand but he stops short. The moment it cracks open and a beam of light pierces into the dark hallway, a soft piano melody streams from your laptop and into his ears. He staggers.

His heart accelerates.

His breath freezes.

“Jungkook!”

“What are you doing?”

“Come sit down!”

“The food’s getting cold.”

A film plays beneath his eyelids, snapshots of vague images. Colour does not exist, black and white screens blurred to a point where he can’t make out the faces. The edges of the scene are curled together, sepia and burnt. Fuzzy. Clouded. There’s a table. Dark silhouettes. His mother. His father.

“My favourite’s lamb skewers. Here. Try some.”

A strange boy with ebony locks next to him.

Jungkook screams. An invisible hand wraps around his throat, choking him as he desperate gasps for breath. He can’t breathe and his eyes flash, morphing into tunnel vision. Suddenly you’re in front of him, the door crashing against the wall. Your lips move but he can’t hear; his heartbeat pounds loud within his eardrums, sirens blaring in his head. His chest constricts, a wave of panic drowning him like a tsunami. He is shaking and numb, leaning against the doorway as the world swirls into a mosaic of colours.

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is miles away, a shout into the oblivion.

“Jungkook!”

But he picks up on the distant echo.

“Jungkook.”

“You’re not going to die. You’re not alone.”

“I’m here.”

Warm arms wrap around his waist, his back patted gently like a lover’s embrace. He is tugged back into reality, reminded that you’re beside him - that he’s not alone. His heaving chest becomes calm underneath your touch, deep inhales that make the palpitation of his heart return to normal thump, thump, thumps. Jungkook’s sight returns and he desperately searches for your eyes. When he finds them, they are tender and soft, comforting and more than a million spoken words.

After you ask him if he’s okay, to which he responds with a weak nod, you bring him into his bedroom. He’s placed on his mattress, covers tucked up to his chin. He wants nothing more than for you to crawl beside him but he can’t ask; not when you’ve already murmured a few words that shot past his ear and the door is closed shut.

As Jungkook stares at his ceiling, being consumed by the darkness of the night, he’s reminded of one thing.

In what world could he have ever asked you?

It was one simple question: “do you want to go out?”. He would’ve blushed, stuttered, stumbled. “I mean...for dessert or a movie.”. Perhaps you would’ve said ‘yes’, maybe ‘no’. But now he can never know your answer.

He couldn’t even walk into your room.

He couldn’t even step into the light.

He’s frustrated and reminded that he’s utterly b r o k e n.

That night Jungkook dreams of a boy’s face that he cannot see.

#bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook angst #bts jungkook #Jungkook scenario #bts scenario #MUHAHAHAHHA

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