#((bows profusely)) SO sorry for the delay

[cashmoneychiyo]

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun Chapter 135, Part 1

Part 2 here [x]

© Cash Money Chiyo (@grolia, candlejack, @liannesilver927, squeaky and our newest member shire!)

[20forty9]

I Didn't Mean To Haunt You

Chapter VI - Smiling At The Ground

Summary : Maheas is getting irritated from his lack of progress, meanwhile Venick is a natural at whatever she picks up in her hands. This time, he pushes things too far. A new player joins the game in your life! You find yourself getting attached to him very quickly. You share a moment of tenderness with Nanami and Haibara. Meanwhile, Gojo is haunted by nightmares.

Word Count : 7.8k

Contains : Vague representations/allusions of sexual abuse, disturbing imagery (?), gross scenes (descriptive vomiting), etc. Let me know if I missed anything

Pairings : Gojo Satoru/Reader, Geto Suguru/Reader, Nanami Kento/Reader, Yu Haibara/Reader, Everyone/Reader (Reverse Harem)

Cross-posted on Ao3

A/N : Vomiting will become more of a theme throughout the story, sorry LMFAO. Thanks Ethel Cain and Elita for that I guess. Also, good golly gee a quote that isn’t inherently about curiousity?? Fourty are you feeling alright???? Also I’m not a swordmaster so I apologize for any inaccuracies on my uh. sword swinging or whatchamacallit. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I put sweat and tears into this chapter. Sorry it's a bit late! I had planned to post it Friday or yesterday but half the chapter got suddenly deleted out of nowhere so I had to rewrite it from my memory and notes.

All bleeding eventually stops. ~ Jeffrey M. Goller M.D.

More time passes by for the spirit, Maheas and Venick without much excitement. Days seem to blur into one, the repetitive schedule rarely being interrupted ever since the rumours about defectors turned out to be true. Security around the area became more tight, and the ever watchful eye of Suliman never truly disappeared; to avoid punishment, the spirit continued the training of the two kids without any delay. 

It notices that they’re both improving their fighting capabilities quite well for such a short period of time – Venick especially. She has a natural aptitude for it, nearly immediately adapting to whatever weapon is given to her. Whether it can be attributed to her sheer will or the possibility of a technique, the spirit must admit she is talented. Though, even throughout all of this, her beloved bow is still her favourite weapon of choice. She doesn’t use it nearly as much as before, but it always lays in the grass with the rest of their belongings, not too far away from where they train. 

However, Maheas is slower to adjust to different weapons and scenarios. And ever since he was able to land that blow on the spirit that particular night, he hasn’t been able to do it since then. 

And unfortunately, he’s too aware of this fact. When he can’t get the weapon or scenario down correctly within the first hour, he considers it to be a complete failure, and gets incredibly irritated, then moves onto something else. Inevitably, the cycle continues, and the spirit notices that Maheas is stuck in a constant loop of anger and irritability. 

It all comes to a breaking point on a sunny day – one of the last overbearingly warm days that fall has to offer before the refreshing cool permanently sets in for the upcoming months. The spirit is sweating profusely from having both kids attack it at once; an exercise for them to learn how to work together as a team instead of individually. 

Venick and Maheas are both using a weapon neither of them have ever tried, but of course Venick is an absolute natural at using the katana, however the latter struggles to hold it properly. As Maheas brings his arms down to swing his weapon down, his grip on the handle wavers slightly, making it slip out of his hands and drop on the ground pathetically. The spirit notices, immediately moving out of the way to dodge the rest of his failed attack, quickly taking him by the arm and twisting it behind his back, pressing a knee against it and sending him into the ground face-first. 

Dust and dirt kick up around them from the impact, but before either of them can catch their breath, Venick runs up from behind and tries to land a blow behind the spirit’s back. With ease, it rolls out of the way and watches as the young girl’s eyes widen, the katana still held high as it now targets Maheas. Her mouth opens widely in exclamation, her lips forming his name, and thankfully, his reaction time is fast enough for him to move his head by an inch right as the blade pierces into the grass, right next to his ear. 

Both of them exhale in relief before Maheas suddenly kicks Venick in the stomach, making her drop down breathlessly on the ground next to him. He shouts obscenities, face going red with rage, raising his fists to punch her repeatedly like a madman. The spirit’s eyes widen, and it moves swiftly, arms wrapping around Maheas’ biceps and pulling him away from the poor girl. He kicks and flails around, going as far as to bite its right arm until his canines puncture its skin, drops of blood pooling and smearing across his lips and teeth. 

Suliman’s men rush over to control the situation, one of them pulling Venick away from the spirit and Maheas as the others try to calm the young boy down. 

“That’s enough!” One of them says, firmly grabbing him by the cheeks to make him look them in their cold eyes.  “What are you doing?!” 

Two other men pull the spirit away from the boy, each of them holding him by his arms as he continues thrashing against them. 

“I’m so sick of this! Why can’t this fucking work?!” He cries, tears of indignation running down his cheeks. “I can’t get anywhere like this!” 

He’s obsessed, the spirit thinks to itself. Nobody can learn so many different strategies in such a short span of time, Venick is just simply blessed – or cursed, depending on how someone views it. If anything, Maheas is still learning quickly; just not as quickly as he would like to. 

Its thought process is interrupted by the familiar deep, royal colours of Suliman’s favourite robes appearing in the peripheral of its sight. Turning its head to look at her, she approaches the group with a frown donned on her face. Her cold, calculating eyes take in the scene before her, and the spirit ponders if this is the most emotion it has seen from her since it got here. 

“What is going on here?” She asks them, her gaze locking onto Maheas, who instantly collects himself, straightening his back as he notices her attention on him. He can’t exactly meet her eyes, the look on his face bashful as he looks down at his feet. 

“...I got angry, Madame,” he admits. With a wave of her hand, the two men holding his arms back let go, taking a step back as she walks over to the young boy. “And I took it out on Venick.”

“Dear boy, why would you do that?” Suliman scolds him lightly, the look on her face not quite replicating anger, but trying to. “Look at her, the poor girl is terrified.” 

Admittedly, Venick is scared. She presses herself closer to the man who pulled her away, but as the spirit approaches her to offer some semblance of comfort, she launches herself into its arms. 

Maheas’ eyes become slits as he glares at the girl, feeling the hot rage boil underneath his skin all over again. He clenches his fists, trying to keep his temperament under wraps. A snap of Suliman’s fingers brings his attention back to her. 

“Answer me, why are you so angry?” She asks him once more. 

“I– I’m not improving fast enough,” he replies, looking regretful. “But– but Venick just has to be perfect and everything! It’s so annoying! I hate her!” 

He must be so used to getting everything handed to him on a silver platter, because no boy of his age should be acting that way or throwing a tantrum like this. And like always, Suliman gently places her hands down on his shoulders, her thumb rubbing comforting circles into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Like always, she’ll comfort him with her sugar-sweet words in that motherly way she does. 

“I know, Maheas. You’re a failure,” she says. The spirit’s eyes widen slightly – it didn’t expect that. That crosses the line from being passive-aggressively disappointed into being genuinely cruel. “I’m truly disheartened by this.” 

“Madame…?” The boy’s face becomes crestfallen, eyes glossy with unshed tears, skin becoming sickeningly pale. His lips press tightly together, chin trembling. 

“But I can shape you into becoming something truly marvellous,” she continues, a small smile spreading across her painted lips. “Something people will fear. But for that, you have to work hard every second of the day.” 

He looks at her hesitantly, but manages to muster a weak grin of his own. “...I– I won’t let you down.” 

“No, you won’t,” Suliman says, her face immediately dropping to a neutral, far-away stare as she releases her hold on him, walking over to the spirit. 

“Come with me,” she completely disregards the young girl still clinging to it. “We need to discuss some things.” 

The spirit gives one last pat to Venick’s back, ushering her towards the man who had initially pulled her away from the scene earlier before walking away with the shaman. She walks it down along the gardens until they are a fair distance away from anyone who could listen in to their conversation. 

“You’re not pushing him hard enough,” she starts as soon as they’re out of earshot. “Are you trying to make a fool of me?” 

The spirit immediately shakes its head. Of course not. 

“Then, tell me why you have had no success in making him use his abilities?” 

“ Because that’s not the focus of their training. They have to learn how to work together and learn how to handle different weapons, ” it signs back. The sign language book that Suliman had given it had, unfortunately , proven to be incredibly useful. “If they want to get any further, that is how they will grow stronger.” 

“I’m telling you now to change it. If I don’t see an improvement within the next week, I’m putting you back in that room,” she threatens, subtle glare hardening. The thought of being put back between those four white walls makes the spirit stiffen up. “You’re weak, you’re too afraid to push him any further. Don’t hold back. He needs to learn somehow.” 

“ If we push him too far and too quickly, it could kill him. He’s still young.” 

“He’s more resilient than you give him credit for, spirit,” Suliman’s eyes drift to where the two of them came from, in Maheas’ direction. “I’ve changed my mind. If I don’t see any changes within the next three days, I’ll put you back there.” 

With that last warning, she shoos it away to go back to the kids, leaving her in the garden. 

The spirit takes heed, a constant frown pulling at its face the following day as Venick and Maheas approach it with their things in tow. The girl keeps a fair distance away from the latter, anxiously looking over at him every five seconds. As soon as they put their belongings down on the grass, they hear a quick snap followed by a bright flicker of light as cyan flames approach them at rapid speeds. With quick thinking, Maheas and Venick dodge the attack by jumping in opposite directions, rolling down on the ground before getting back up and staring at the spirit, baffled. 

“What the hell was that for?!” Maheas exclaims, raising his katana up. 

“ Train, hard, ” the spirit signs back simply, knowing that both of the kids are just starting to learn sign language in their other classes. 

“At least give us a warning!” Venick says, also raising her matching weapon in her arms. 

Usually, the spirit would use its polearm so that the fighting could be more balanced, but Suliman’s threat nags away at the back of its mind — it refuses to go back into that room, no matter what. With another fast flick of its hands, more fire spews from its fingertips, targeting both of the kids. They have to evade the attack again, unused to being on defence. 

“How are we supposed to fight against fire with swords ? ” Venick asks Maheas, bringing the blade up as a guise of protection. 

“I don’t know…” Maheas’ anxious eyes are locked on the spirit, who stares back at them emotionlessly. “We just have to keep fighting.” 

They prepare themselves to pounce, both of them launching at it at the same time, and the spirit easily sidesteps them, a wave of fire gusting around them all, throwing Venick and Maheas back without the flames touching them – just enough to feel the heat biting at their skin.

“ You have to synchronize together, or else I’ll be able to kick you back at the same time,” it signs to them. “ Get back up. ” 

Maheas gets back up first, the frown on his face deepening. His chest puffs out, spreading his feet apart as he clenches his jaw so hard that a vein bulges in his neck. His eyes are wide and gaze unwavering as he rushes forward, the grip on his katana tight. He slashes at the spirit, sending it staggering backwards from the shock. He swings again, blade continuing to cut into the air haphazardly until it catches on the skin of the spirit, who suddenly feels hesitant to fight back. However, Maheas continues to attack it.

“Come on, fight back! Give me your all!” He says, and as the spirit’s eyes focus on his mouth to lip-read, that distracts it long enough for Maheas to bring out his katana’s blade down onto the arm of the spirit, imbedding itself into the meat of its forearm. 

The only reason why its arm doesn’t end up completely chopped off is because he doesn’t put an incredible amount of strength into the blow, but out of instinct, the spirit rears back its other arm, harshly snapping its fingers to unleash a powerful blow straight at Maheas, violently throwing him backwards and rolling onto the ground, his body hiding behind a thick veil of steam. 

Oh, fuck. 

It immediately runs over to his crumpled form, waving the steam away to look at the damage. A large burn bubbles along the entirety of Maheas’ left forearm and neck, the skin red and raw. He clenches his teeth, and as the spirit gathers the young boy into its arms to check over any other damage, it feels him vibrate underneath its palms – it realizes he’s screaming in pain through his clenched teeth. Maheas clutches his arm in agony, foot stomping on the ground aggressively to distract himself from the pain. 

Completely focused on tending to the injured boy, the spirit completely forgets about Venick, who had been disregarded when Maheas tried to attack it. It isn’t until it feels a large slash against its back, so utterly excruciating that it immediately lets go of Maheas from the shock, feeling slash after intense slash against its back. It presses a foot against the ground, launching itself out of the way before another attack can hit it. 

Weakly looking back, its eyes lock onto an enraged Venick – a long whip made of pure cursed energy held tightly in her hand, knuckles turning white from her grip around the handle. 

“Get away from him!” She exclaims, preparing to rear the weapon back once more. 

The spirit raises its arms, hands splayed out in front of it to show it wasn’t going to hurt him. The commotion attracts the men standing guard near the greenhouse, one of them followed by Suliman. 

Her eyes actually widen as they land on the young girl, then move onto the injured boy until she locks eyes with the spirit, whose arms wrap around itself tightly to let its hands grasp at its back, trying to relieve the pain. 

“You did it…” Suliman mutters as she looks at Venick. The second the raven-haired girl realizes all focus is on her, the whip dissipates into nothing as she seems to retreat in on herself. “Girl, you’ve done it.” 

“D– done what? Did I do something wrong?” She stutters, hands coming up to her chest to  curl in further. 

“No, not at all, dear girl,” the platinum blonde replies, the smile on her face reaching the tip of her ears. 

Suliman walks over to her, a hand coming up to delicately stroke her hair. The spirit feels disgusted seeing the sickly-sweet affection in the older woman’s eyes. 

“You’ve just discovered your curse technique, darling.” 

As Suliman continues doting on Venick, the spirit’s eyes drift over to Maheas, who looks at the two from his spot on the ground, still clutching at his arm, with pure hatred in his glare. 

If looks could kill, Venick would be a dead girl standing. 

 

You're woken up by your phone buzzing underneath your pillow, violently vibrating against the sheets. The skin of your arms is uncomfortably itchy, having forgotten to take off your bandages the previous night before you passed out in bed. Soundlessly grumbling to yourself, you squint your eyes as you flip the phone open, staring back at the screen. It’s a Saturday, who the hell is waking you up at the ungodly hour of… 

Oh. One in the afternoon. 

Not so ungodly, after all. 

Yaga’s name greets you on the screen, followed by a sunglasses emoji. 

- Are you busy tosda [Sent 12:47pm] - *Today [Sent 12:48pm] - ? [Sent 12:49pm]

[One missed call from Yaga.] [1:03pm]

Your fingers move lazily across the small keyboard, the sleep in your eyes still clouding your vision. 

- No :P Why

It only takes a few minutes until your door suddenly swings open – you’re certain you locked that last night, by the way – revealing Yaga in his usual workout clothes, minus his sunglasses. 

“ Good, you’re up, ” he signs, hands going to his hips. 

You don't bother signing in return, simply waving him off and shoving your face back into the pillow. You feel the floor shake as heavy stomps cross the floorboards until the bright afternoon sunlight hits your eyes again, the pillow held high above the teacher’s head as he holds it out of your reach. 

“ Nooo…” you mouth, trying to give your best puppy eyes to Yaga. 

“I have someone I want to introduce you to.” 

“ Can’t this wait? ” You sign, hands moving slowly from how tired you are as you squint at him. 

“You’ve been in bed long enough,” he chastises you. He then proceeds to wrap the duvet around you, effectively cocooning you, before he grabs your legs and drags you out of bed. 

Your reaction is instantaneous – you claw at the ground, trying to thrash your body back and forth, but all you look like is a dying worm on the pavement when the sun finally hits after a long rainstorm. You try slapping at Yaga’s hands but can’t even manage to reach them, and you try one last ditch effort to escape which proves to be fruitless. 

“Nothing you do will make me let go,” Yaga turns his head to address you, mirth swirling in his eyes. 

Exasperated, you sigh out deeply and completely let your body go slack as the teacher continues to drag you outside of your dorm room and down the hall. As you walk past the communal kitchen, you feel dread run through your body as you realize there are people already in there. 

“Good morning, sen–” Nanami and Haibara’s mouths both close shut as they look at the scene in front of them. The blonde has a cup of coffee held in his hand, halfway up to his mouth but his body is frozen as his lips subtly quirk up. Haibara is sitting at the table with a bowl of oatmeal and fruit, a shocked look on his face. 

You look back at them in disdain as Yaga greets them normally, as if he doesn’t have a person wrapped in a duvet-burrito. 

“Um, w– what’s going on there?” Haibara asks, tilting his head quizzically, but he looks one step away from blowing up into laughter. 

“ S.O.S, S.O.S ,” you sign repeatedly, eyes wide as you give them a terrified expression. 

“Ignore them,” is all Yaga says. 

“ I’m being K.I.D.N.A.P.P.E.D,” you continue to look at them desperately, going as far as to mouth the words. 

“They’re a drama queen, did I forget to mention?” 

Yaga is about to continue trudging forward but is met with the doorway being blocked by three familiar bodies. You cringe, jaw clenching tightly as you bang your head against the floor to try and end your misery. 

Shoko leans to the side, peering past her sensei and giving you a good once-over before she bursts out laughing, immediately pulling out her phone to snap a picture while her shoulders violently shake from laughter. Gojo and Geto both follow along, looking incredibly amused. 

“ That counts as blackmail! Put that fucking phone down,” you glare at her halfheartedly, signing aggressively even though you know she can’t understand you. 

“Language, please,” the teacher speaks up. 

“ Are you guys seriously going to let him kidnap me like this in broad daylight?” 

“I really wish I knew sign language right now,” Geto admits, a wide grin spread across his face. 

“They’re saying how much they love this, it’s their favourite pastime, they aren't being kidnapped and this is all of their own volition. Also, they think you’re my most annoying students,” Yaga says, before slowly dragging you away as he walks backwards. 

“ I’ll remember this. I’ll remember this betrayal for the rest of my life,” you flip the group of students off, who watch and continue to laugh at you, except for Haibara who dramatically reaches out, fake tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t worry!” He exclaims your name. “I’ll find you when you’re back!” 

You continue to glare at them until you and Yaga turn a corner, finally disappearing from view. The teacher continues to drag you until you arrive at the front door of the dormitories, finally letting you go. You quickly scramble to your feet, dusting yourself off and watching as the teacher lets your duvet drop to the ground pathetically. 

“ Was that really necessary?” You sign to him, not bothering to pick it up – you’ll wash it when you come back from wherever Yaga is taking you to. 

“ Absolutely . ” He nods in reply. “You would’ve taken an entire hour to get ready, and I want you to meet him as soon as possible.” 

You relent, sighing dramatically as you follow behind Yaga as you both walk through campus until you go down the large flight of stairs, the teacher’s car waiting for you at the bottom. 

“ Oh my god, you really are kidnapping me, aren’t you?” You tease him, comically widening your eyes. 

“Put those hands down and get in the car, will you?” He replies, arching an eyebrow. 

Raising your hands up in surrender, you get in the passenger seat while Yaga gets in the driver's seat. The car starts up not long after, and you set off, weaving through the streets of the city. Eventually, the car pulls up to a familiar building. 

“ Why are we at your house?” 

Yaga doesn’t reply, simply turning the engine off before stepping out to unlock the front door. You follow obediently, going on your tiptoes to peer over the taller man’s shoulder curiously, trying to take a peek at whoever he wants you to meet. Yaga ushers you inside quickly, locking the door behind you. You take your shoes off, leaving them on the rack near the doorway. 

Once upon a time, with a fresh slash across your face and matted hair, this was where you stayed until he moved you to campus.

He doesn’t bother turning the lights on, instead leading you to another room. The door is shut, and there are colourful stickers randomly littered near the bottom of it, making you wonder why they were stuck on there, of all places. Your questions are soon answered as Yaga swings the door open, revealing a brightly-lit room with its blinds drawn back. 

A… baby panda? 

Said animal turns to look at you both, tilting its head in curiosity. It wears a baby diaper, with a toy train held in its paws. Upon further inspection, there are multiple toys scattered around the room with a comfortable-looking twin bed pressed in the corner. 

The cub speaks. You can clearly see it move its lips, but its fur is so thick it’s hard to read its lips. Your eyes widen, but you can feel a smile spreading across your face before you can stop it. It’s so cute! 

“Panda, this is…” Yaga slowly introduces your name to the panda. Then, he addresses you. “This is Panda, he’s…” he hesitates, but looks between the both of you and at the starry expression on your face. “Well, to put it simply, an Abrupt-Mutation Cursed Corpse.” 

Your eyebrows raise up in surprise, pointing to Panda. “ You created a mutated corpse? ” 

Yaga’s hands immediately go to grasp your shoulders, looking you dead in the eye. 

“I’m begging you, please don’t tell anyone. If word gets out, I could be killed for this.” 

You give him an unimpressed look. “Who would I even tell? The higher-ups? I’m sure they would definitely trust me.” 

“Good point. Sorry– I’m just so worried about this. I only want to give him the best, he’s my first successful mutation.” 

You nod your head in understanding. “I promise, your secret is safe with me.” 

Yaga’s attention is back on the baby animal, and they talk amongst themselves. You look over the teacher’s shoulder, waving at Panda with a smile. The latter raises his paw and mimics you in reply. Oh god, cuteness aggression is real, you think to yourself, having to turn away before you let the urge to squeeze the cub in your arms take over. 

A hand to your shoulder makes you turn back, and Yaga makes you crouch next to him to face the panda properly. 

“Would you mind introducing yourself to him in sign language?” He asks, telling Panda to pay close attention. 

“ It’s nice to meet you, Panda, ” you sign slowly, followed by spelling your name, fingers carefully shaping the words, repeating both Panda’s name and your own. 

“That is sign language,” Yaga explains to the young one. “You’ll be learning it.” 

Panda’s mouth moves again as he nods his head before giving you a full grin, shiny white fangs on display and all. 

“Eventually, I want to train him properly, but for now he has to remain here. If the higher-ups discover him, my career is over – and my life too, most likely,” the teacher turns to face you as he speaks. “But I’m worried he’s lonely when I’m not here, even with the babysitter. I’ve already attached a new set of keys to your keychain, so if you have the chance… would you mind dropping by sometime?”

You nod your head enthusiastically, which makes Yaga quickly pat your shoulder appreciatively. 

You both look back at Panda, who continues playing with his toys. You feel a sense of calm wash over you, and you situate yourself on the floor more comfortably, raising one of the toys to make playful chomping gestures at Panda’s cheeks, who’s shoulders shake as he laughs in glee. 

Unbeknownst to you, Yaga takes a quick picture of the two of you in your own world, a real smile playing upon his lips. 

You walk all the way back to the school, still dressed in your pyjamas. People send you odd looks as you stuff your hands into your sweatpants, a frown and pout on your face. Yaga sent you back on your own, claiming that you needed more fresh air and to enjoy the sunny day outside. All you really wanted to do was lay in bed all day and let your sore body recuperate for the upcoming week. 

As you trudge your body up the unending flight of stairs that lead back to the school, you are greeted with the sight of Nanami and Haibara talking amongst themselves, sitting across from each other at a picnic table with a bunch of snacks set up on the surface. The trees above them provide a nice canopy of shade, protecting them from the harsh glare of the sun.

Haibara’s brown eyes suddenly lock onto your own, and they light up upon seeing you. He enthusiastically waves you over, apparently yelling your name so loudly that Nanami grabs his arm, making a shushing motion at him. 

“Hi!” He greets you with a wide smile upon his lips. “You made it back alive!” 

“ No thanks to you, ” you sign in return, though it’s all meant lightheartedly. 

The brunette immediately pouts. “Sorry, I don’t really know what you said besides ‘ no’ and ‘ you ’.” 

You give him a light smile. “ It’s okay.”

Haibara proceeds to pat the empty seat on the bench next to him, motioning at you to sit down. “You should join us! We’re having lunch now.” Nanami looks like he’s about to contradict him, a small blush forming on the tips of his ears, but he concedes, nodding along. 

Apprehensive, you take a seat next to the brunette, signing a quick thank you in reply. Your bed is calling you right now, but there’s no harm in hanging out with the two men, either. 

“What did sensei want with you, anyway?” Haibara asks before taking a bite out of one of the small triangle sandwiches. 

Keep Panda a secret, Yaga’s words pop up in your head. Keep Panda safe. 

“ Nothing important,” you reply. 

“I think that’s… ‘ nothing’, right?” Nanami asks, immediately turning to rummage through his bag, pulling out a sign language dictionary. Your eyes widen slightly in delight, a small quiet laugh bursting past your lips. The blonde replicates the motion you made previously, palms facing you and Haibara before turning them to himself. You nod in reply, smiling. 

“He’s learning pretty quickly,” the brunette says, offering a sandwich to you, who takes it from his hand, proceeding to munch away on it gratefully. “I have to admit it’s a lot for me to learn. I’m still stuck on finger-spelling.”

“To be honest, me too,” Nanami admits, flitting through the pages of the dictionary. “Would you mind telling me if I’m signing my name right?” 

You shake your head back and forth, eyes locked onto his hands as he moves them to sign his name as accurately as possible. He stumbles over the motions slightly, but it is still understandable for you, albeit a bit awkward to follow along. You give the blonde an ‘ok’ sign before you wipe your hands on your pants, proceeding to lean over the table to gently grasp Nanami’s hands into your own and moving his fingers into the correct position. 

“ There, ” You mouth to him as you move them back and forth to help him memorize. “ Na-na-mi.” 

“I… see,” he replies, whole face flushing light pink. You quickly sit back down properly, grabbing a cookie, completely oblivious to the other man’s embarrassment. 

You see Gojo and Geto approaching the table before they can greet your group properly. You wave at them with a smile on your face, and the raven-haired man returns it with a tired one of his own. 

“What’s going on over here?” Gojo asks as he reaches you all, leaning over Nanami’s shoulder. The latter is already frowning in disdain, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there. “ Ooh, sign language, huh?” 

“They’re just showing us how to sign Nanamin’s name,” Haibara says, eyes starry as his eyes are locked on Geto. 

“Cool. Anyways, we were wonderi–”

“Ohh, wait, show me how to sign my name!” Haibara interrupts him, shaking your shoulder back and forth to grab your attention. He completely ignores Gojo’s glare sent his way, attentively watching as you happily demonstrate it to him. The two of you go back and forth for a few minutes until he finally grasps it well enough. 

After your small lesson, the brunette turns back to his peers. “Sorry, you were saying?” 

“Uh,” Gojo looks awkward as he looks at the ground for a split-second before he gazes at you through his sunglasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose absentmindedly. “We were wondering if you were going to… train with us today.” 

You look at them quizzically, eyebrows furrowed. Since when did you train together on weekends? 

Not that you’re against it, but– 

You look at the snacks on the table, then to Haibara and Nanami, who look at you almost expectantly. Well, you were already here, and they seemed to want to learn more sign language, so… 

You shrug your shoulders in reply, shaking your head back and forth. 

“Are you sure?” Geto asks – he seems disappointed. 

You sign an apology, sending him a nervous smile. “They offered me food. Plus, I would feel bad if I left them now because they want to learn sign language.” 

“Alright. See you on Monday, then,” Gojo says rather abruptly, lips pressed tightly together. “C’mon, Suguru.” 

You wave goodbye to them, which only Geto returns. It takes a moment for Gojo’s words to finally register in your mind. Wait, did he–? 

“That was weird,” Haibara says after an awkward pause. “Gojo was acting strange.” 

“When is he not?” Nanami asks rhetorically, still looking bothered. “He has a talent at butting his head into our business.” 

“Yeah, but not like that. Eh, whatever, it’s not that important,” the brunette eventually goes back to his food. After finishing off his own plate, he seems to pause halfway while brushing the crumbs away from his mouth with his thumb. He turns to you, who still continues to stare at where the men were once standing. He gently taps your shoulder which makes you snap your head to look at him. 

You tilt your head to the side in question, shaking your index finger back and forth. “ What is it? ” 

“Say, I forgot to ask. When’s your birthday?” Haibara asks. “I hope we haven’t missed it…”

You look at him blankly for a moment before giving him a shrug. Honestly, you don't remember the moment you appeared into existence. You were just… created, simply put. One second, you weren't, then you were. There were no big explosions or festivities, unless you counted the people who used to worship you, although that was centuries ago. 

Haibara looks utterly offended on your behalf. “Are you telling me you don’t know or you don’t have one?” 

“The second one. ” 

“Nanami, we can’t have this!” He turns to the blonde, who doesn’t seem too surprised himself. “We’ll give you a birthday then.” 

“Are you sure that’s appropriate?” Nanami asks, looking over at you, unsure. 

“ I’m sure it’s fine.” 

Haibara catches his chin between his forefinger and thumb, looking dead ahead of him, eyes becoming unfocused. Wow, he’s seriously thinking hard about this. You and Nanami share a look, the latter shaking his head back and forth, exasperated. It takes a few moments until Haibara snaps out of it suddenly, looking as if he’s been illuminated. 

“I got it!” He says, eyes sparkling from how excited he is. “October thirty-first!” 

“Okay, that definitely can’t be appropriate.” 

You just stare at them, absolutely confused. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re a curse, right? Those cursed energy levels coming from you are off the charts, more than any normal human being. Either that, or you’re cursed,” oh, so close, you wince. “But a curse is technically a spirit, right? And spirits are technically ghosts! It’s fitting, isn’t it?” 

In any other world, you would love to jump in joy – Haibara was so close to actually understanding what you are. You wish they could understand sign language or that you had your notebook to write in so you could actually explain the situation. However, decades of being dismissed and treated as less than others render you exhausted. There’s no point trying to justify yourself if Haibara is dead set on believing that you are a curse. If that’s how he sees you, then so be it. 

Instead, you steels your nerves, simply giving him a curt nod of your head. That’s perfect. 

Haibara and Nanami smile warmly at you. 

“October thirty-first it is,” the blonde says, going back to flipping through his book, the smile still plastered on his lips.

As you all finish your food in silence, you let your gaze wander up, peering at the sun through the leaves of the trees that create a canopy above your group. You grin to yourself, feeling a sense of satisfaction bloom within you. 

The kindest gift that you have received. A day of celebration for you. 

A celebration of life for a dead man walking. 

Lately, Satoru dreams of you. 

When he off-handedly told Suguru about it the first time it happened, the latter barked out a sharp laugh and asked him, “What, like a wet dream?” 

He finds himself wishing it were. 

At this point, Satoru would take that over whatever has actually been happening when he falls asleep. 

It starts off inconspicuously enough – when he drifts off, the next thing he knows, he’s standing in the middle of a road out in the countryside. He can’t actually pinpoint whether it’s a real location that he’s seen before or not, but the endless amount of wheat fields that lay to his right seem properly tended to. To his left, there’s a forest that goes on endlessly, thick fog permeating from it. It’s always pitch-black outside, and he’d like to assume it’s the witching hour, but something at the back of his mind tells him that’s not right. The shadows unnaturally stretch for miles across the road. 

There’s always a certain itch crawling along his skin, as if he’s being observed. But every time he looks over his shoulder, he is utterly alone. There are no other signs of life – no birds chirping, no cars driving down the gravel road, no farmers tending to the fields or horses gallivanting around behind the wooden fence. He can’t even hear the gravel crunching underneath his shoes. He doesn’t feel safe here. 

Satoru desperately wants to wake up, but something isn’t letting him. 

Eventually, his alarm clock will shock him awake, pulling him from the impossibly deep sleep he was in. And every time, the day starts then comes to an end, and after a long day of hard work and training, he has to let his mind and body rest, so he goes to sleep. And every time, he is always greeted with that same dream. 

As the weeks pass by, the recurring dream becomes more and more specific. 

This time, after standing in the same place for what feels like an eternity, his feet absentmindedly carry him forwards down the road, eyes snapping to every dark corner as the sense of unease grows and grows and grows. He feels a shiver run down his spine when he hears deep, breathless breathing right in his ear, as if someone is overexerting themselves next to him, body desperately pressed up against his own. His head snaps to the side, but there’s nobody there. 

Every muscle of his body tenses up, the hair on his arms raising. He feels his eyes sinking into their eye sockets, wide with fear. The Gojo clan does not fear anything , he hears the voice of his father tell his younger self after a thunderstorm that left him shaking like a leaf. 

The breathing is not his own, Satoru knows this for a fact. His hands are pressed up against his mouth and nose as he tries to take deep, quiet breaths, his heart clenching and making nausea tumble around in his stomach. 

The scenery stays exactly the same as usual – not a single thing changes, except for the varying height of the wheat fields. After another indiscernible amount of time, there’s a break in between the fields; a small church, made of old wood with its white paint chipping off, slightly elevated from the road. It almost resembles a backyard shack. The windows and front door are boarded up with thick panels, with weeds and vines growing along some cracks. It’s obviously been unoccupied for years, if not decades. 

Satoru’s blood runs cold as his eyes adjust to the dark even further, noticing a body laying on the cement steps leading up to the front door of the small building. The person is surrounded by small asphodels growing from the cracks in the cement, the small white petals a stark contrast to the darkness that envelops this dream. He keeps his eyes down– down, so he can at least pretend that the person is sleeping. 

The dark liquid surrounding them seems to scream otherwise. 

The stranger’s body resting on the stairs is positioned on their knees, stomach down, their head resting against the hard concrete and facing his way.

He stays a fair distance away, but Satoru feels even more sick once he realizes that the body isn't just a stranger, after all.

It's you . 

The unmistakable colour of your hair is splayed along the steps, mismatched eyes looking more faded and dead than ever before. Suddenly, the smell hits Satoru’s nostrils, making him gag. The stench of rot fills the air around him, unescapable. Not even the sweet, honeysuckle scent of the asphodels can cover it up. The fragrances mix together, producing something that just smells wrong. 

Against his better judgement, his feet stay firmly planted in place; something tells him that he can’t leave your body here. 

The sound of flies buzzing around your dead body becomes more obvious once he takes a few steps forward, but he halts immediately once he sees a shadow spreading, moving from the darkness that it casts along the cracks in the road, moving unnaturally; detached from reality. It stretches up, up, up , becoming more human-like until Satoru’s eyes can see the individual pair of arms and legs standing over your body. The rest of its features are muted – it’s just a shadow, after all.

It’s just a shadow, right? 

Right? 

Its hands reach out to brush the hair away from your face, and Satoru feels his body fill with disgust, but he doesn’t know why. His six eyes seem to tune into something that his mind refuses to process. His mouth opens to tell it off, to get it away from you, but nothing comes out; the words get stuck in his throat, as if it is impossible for him to make any noise. 

The shadow fades in and out as it hunches over you, getting closer and closer to your ear, and the heavy breathing in Satoru’s ear only grows in volume. This feels wrong on so many levels. It feels like an imaginary hand is wrapping around his throat, cutting off his ability to breathe in properly as his eyes are completely fixated on the scene before him. His heart pounds against his ribcage, and it feels like it’s about to leap out of his body. 

The shadow’s fading hand gently strokes your cheek in a comforting manner, its head brushing right against your ear. At that exact moment, uncontrollable warped words play backwards in Satoru’s head, putting the devil’s tongue to shame. He can’t tell anything apart, as if his brain is melting. None of the sentences make sense, the voice sounding anything but human, layered over itself, and the words meld together in a messy tangle. 

“ You… poor thing…” The single sentence that is finally managed to be unravelled, making his body run ice cold. 

The buzzing of the flies is suddenly so overwhelming, becoming the only noise that Satoru can hear – he finds himself thankful for a moment, finally being spared of the voice that sounds like iron dragging against concrete, but he realizes that it’s him waking up. His body becomes weightless, but his arms immediately reach out, hands grasping at nothing as he tries to claw through the air to your body. 

“ WAIT! ” He finally manages to shout, followed by desperately screaming your name, feeling his throat go raw. The flies are starting to surround his body, trying to take him away from his dead body lying along the stairs – but then his dream finally allows his eyes to focus on them, and they’re not flies. 

It’s hundreds of paper birds, ones that he used to see when he read children’s fairytale books. They’re semi-humanoid paper creatures, off-white in colour with a round circle as their head, with rectangular wings sticking out, and the rest of their figure angling inwards, turning into a sharp, acute point, forming a pointed tail. A representation of the body and mind of something that shouldn’t exist. 

“Wait, WAIT! Please!” He shouts your name again in distress. 

He’s not sure what he’s begging for, but he manages to push through the paper birds just enough to put his entire strength to take a few steps forward. I’m the strongest, he repeats to himself over and over again. I should be able to rip these things apart. Just when his hands brush against your shoulder, the birds seem to multiply in numbers, the buzzing turning into intense static ringing through his head. I’m the strongest , he thinks again. I’m the strongest. 

“ Let me go !” He screams over the sound of the buzzing, swatting a paper bird away from his face, but it doesn’t stop others from flying into his ears, up his nostrils and into his mouth, making him gag and choke. He feels them move violently under his skin, making his cheeks burn as he feels them slash and break it, blood drip- dripping down his chin slowly and smearing across his face from the chaos. 

Satoru’s hand manages to clasp around your bicep, but it’s too late. The swarm manages to break his hold on you as they take the white-haired man’s breath away, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his grip on the nightmare slipping. The imagery fades, the looming shadow being the last thing he can clearly make out as the overwhelming sound of paper birds turns into the familiar one of his alarm clock going off. 

Satoru’s body jolts away, cold sweating spread all across his body, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably. His hand immediately slams down on the alarm so violently that it smashes into pieces, but the urge to purge the contents of his stomach overshadows the dull pain throbbing in his hand. 

He runs to the washroom, nearly tripping over his legs before spewing everything up into the toilet. The nausea hits him more intensely as he feels the chunks of food creep up his throat, the acidic taste of bile overwhelming his taste buds and the intense smell invading his nostrils. His back heaves from the force of it, muscles tensing up tightly. His sweaty forehead presses against the porcelain seat as he tries to catch his breath, thick spit pooling from his lips and onto the cold bathroom floor. Once he feels stable enough, he raises himself on shaky legs, going to the small sink to rinse his mouth. As he bends down to drink the water pooling in his hands and swish it around in his mouth, his mind can’t help but remind him of the intense buzzing of the swarm of paper birds, almost as if they’re really there with him in the waking world. 

He reassures himself that it was just an incredibly vivid dream, that absolutely nothing can go wrong in the waking world. He is safe, and you are alive and well, probably already waiting with Shoko for him and Suguru to show up to class. It was simply a nightmare , nothing more, and nothing less.

After rinsing his mouth properly, he raises his head, his muscles becoming impossibly stiff. 

The buzzing returns tenfold. 

The hand around his neck is back.

The voice speaking in tongues is distant, but definitely there. 

And a familiar shadow looms behind him. 

[btsmosphere]

Deep Rooted | KSJ

~summary: when a group of strangers washes up in your village, your trepidation is justified. Surrounded by forest here, no one goes in and no one goes out. How will you fare when you take in the new arrivals? ~pairing: seokjin x reader (gn) ~word count: 6.9k ~fantasy au, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff ~rating: pg15 ~warnings: weapons, monsters, blood, injury, past character death, major character death (sort of)

~a/n: I wrote this fic to wish a wonderful happy birthday to the amazing @aroseforyoongi​ !!! thank you so much for being the most wonderful mom to @thebtswritersclub​ and for all the fun times we have had! I wish you the best of birthdays, even if this fic is sort of revenge for breaking my heart so many times with your writing. also I definitely didn’t get the wrong date for your birthday and bash this out in a day... nooo (I did absolutely do this so please ignore any errors, I have not proofread)

The sound of yelling accompanied the thunder of your feet down the stairs.

It wasn’t often that such a commotion was heard in your sleepy town, but what you had seen a moment ago from your window had you running immediately.

“Stay back!”

“Please, he’s wounded-“

“We mean no harm!”

“I’m sure you don’t sonny, now get away or I’ll shoot you! I’ll do it!”

Throwing open your front door, you raced towards the voices, alarmed at the rising volume. Rounding the corner as fast as you could, you spilled out into the square, a small group of people you didn’t recognise crowded by the old gate. Long since abandoned, it was swamped in ivy, tendrils of which blew into their faces as three townsfolk pushed them back.

Your eyes widened on seeing Cribbons, the eldest man in the village, brandishing a rusting pistol at the strangers.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” one of the strangers stepped forwards, the warning in his voice as clear as his hand began unsheathing a sword from his belt.

Gasping, you dashed across the remaining distance between you and the group.

“What’s going on?” you exclaimed, coming to a stop directly between the two parties.

Eyeing the new people, you saw them do the same, wary of you. But before either of you could speak, Cribbons was talking.

“They came in from the forest!”

Looking between both parties, you could only gape.

“They- that’s not possible,” you shook your head.

“It’s true, we all saw it!” Cribbons snarled, “we’re just trying to send them back where they came from.”

Frown deepening, you cast your eyes over the group that had appeared, apparently from Midbleak forest. Now you were closer, you could see one of them was seated, slumping against the crumbling gatepost. Their hands clutched at their leg, which you were shocked to see bleeding profusely.

Another stranger was supporting them, and now looked around at you.

Drawing in a breath, you found yourself unable to look away from the man, his large eyes beseeching you. Strikingly handsome, he rose to his feet to address you with a small bow.

“Please,” he spoke, “we are all in need of rest. And somewhere for my friend to heal. We mean you and your town no harm.”

Silence reigned and you realised each person was awaiting and answer from you. As the town’s apothecary, you technically had some level of authority, but it was never usually necessary to gather respect given the (usually) peaceful nature of your dwelling.

For now, though, you were grateful for your position, and turned to the new arrivals.

“I apologise for the behaviour of the townspeople,” you began with a sideways glance at Cribbons, “and welcome you to Midbleak. We are not… accustomed to having visitors. But I can make space for you, if you follow me.”

Bowing again, the man thanked you. Quickly turning to aid his friend who still leaned heavily against him, your eyes never strayed from his form until another of the party blocked your view.

“Thank you for your kindness,” he smiled, dimples showing.

“Don’t mention it,” you returned the smile, “we best get moving.”

A crowd had gathered, unsurprising given that nothing of note ever happened here. Ushering the newcomers away, you did your best to shield them from the staring eyes looking on from every window.

Once inside, you allowed the group to settle in your front room. There were seven of them, meaning most had to seat themselves at various places on the floor or your windowsills, in any space not occupied by your herbs or potions. Since you lived alone, you had never prepared for this much company.

The injured man, introduced to you as Taehyung, was granted the entire settee. Disappearing to your supply larder, you tried not to think of the bloodstains you would have to wash off later.

Returning with bandages and ointment, you realised you hadn’t offered them anything to eat or drink. It had been such a long time since you had entertained others that the manners your brother always taught you had almost slipped your mind.

“I’m so sorry,” you garbled, depositing your armful of supplies beside the settee, “would any of you like tea? Or, um, I’m sure I could find something to eat-“

“You’ve done enough,” a hand rested on your shoulder, bringing your attention to the man who spoke to you earlier. “Allow me to make some tea, if you have it, but our Taehyungie needs you most right now.”

“Of course,” you hastily agreed, and set to work.

Directing the man to your stove, you made quick work of patching up Taehyung. It wasn’t often you had to deal with ailments more severe than a sprained muscle, but wounds like this were something you could never forget.

Before you knew it, a warm mug was being pressed into your hands. Taehyung had fallen asleep, but on looking around, you found all the others gratefully drinking as well.

“Thank you…” you trailed off.

“Seokjin,” he prompted, “Kim Seokjin.”

“Thank you, Seokjin,” you smiled as he settled beside you, “my name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“This tea is great,” another spoke.

Thanking him, you explained that you grew all your ingredients yourself.

“Do you… do you think we might be able to take some with us?”

The man who spoke was the same who threatened to draw his sword in the square, and you frowned.

“Jungkook,” Seokjin scolded from beside you, “we’ll buy it off them at a fair price, given what they’ve done for us.”

“S-sorry,” you interjected, “but what to you mean ‘to take with you’? You’re not… going somewhere?”

“We’ll stay here for as long as we need to rest and for Tae to heal,” the dimpled man told you, “but then we will be leaving.”

You stared in horror.

“…leaving?”

“Yes, you see, we were on our way across the forest when we got delayed,” Seokjin explained, “we got lost and ended up here. So as soon as we can, we’ll try to find our original path.”

“But-but,” you spluttered, “no one leaves here! You can’t!”

“We have to,” Jungkook’s voice was terse.

“No one goes into the forest,” you matched his tone, a warning.

“Calm down, Kook,” the boy beside him held up a hand, then turned to you with a tilt of his head. “Why does no one go into the forest?”

“No one ever comes back.”

“We managed to get in, didn’t we?” one of the others argued.

“And that’s exactly why the people here are afraid of you,” you countered, “but it’s not like you came out unscathed.”

Mulling over your words, you saw defeat paint his features. The dimpled man spoke instead.

“We might be able to help.”

“Help?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Yes. I’m Kim Namjoon, and my party have had many successes against beasts, demons, and all sorts. I’m sure we can figure out what has happened to your town, and free you.”

In your cup, the liquid rippled slightly as your hands trembled around it. Slowly, you began to shake your head, the motion soon becoming vehement.

“No.” you said firmly, “you don’t understand-“

Your feet were already beneath you, taking you further from this group of delusional adventurers. In the doorway, you stopped, eyeing them fearfully for a second.

“No one goes into the woods.”

You turned on your heel, feet pounding up the stairs until your bedroom door slammed behind you.

Forcing yourself to lower your hands from where they raked over your scalp, you ceased your pacing. As you stood, sucking in deep breaths in some futile attempt to calm yourself, your eyes finally came to rest on your nightstand.

Your steps forward were softer now. You weren’t conscious of the sad smile that slipped onto your lips as your fingers came to caress the small vase of flowers that always stood there. Their petals were soft against the pads of your fingertips, but still firm with life.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat.

Letting your hand fall, you sunk onto your bed. Perhaps you should try to think of a way to tell the party downstairs to forget their death wish, or to get out.

Then again, why should you care if they want to go and get themselves killed? They only just turned up, and you had no obligation to them.

A gentle rap at the door lulled you from your reverie. Turning, you called for whoever-it-was to enter. You weren’t sure who you could expect, but of all the group, it was a relief to see that Jin was on the other side of the door.

Pushing it open cautiously, he only trod a couple of steps into the room. His eyes fixed on you where you sat with your back to him, not bothering to get up and instead only glancing over your shoulder.

Briefly smiling, he bobbed his head in a bow before speaking.

“Are you alright?”

Hi voice was as soft as his words, taking you somewhat by surprise.

“Where are the others?” you deflected.

“Most of them have gone to get supplies from the town. Taehyung’s still sleeping. I came to check if you were okay,” he pressed.

“Yes. Thank you,” you turned your eyes back to the floor in front of you, “I-I just- a lot has happened – you lot turn up, and now there’s talk of the… the woods…”

“I understand.” You heard the creaking of your floorboards, soon feeling the bed dip beside you, the warmth of his body very close. “Or at least, I can try to. I don’t mean to worry you… if you want us to leave, I’ll get the others to comply.”

“I appreciate it,” you sighed, then throwing your hands out in frustration, “but your friend still isn’t well. Where else can your group of idiots go if not into the death-trap outside the gates?”

Laughter beside you made you look around. His laugh wasn’t elegant, but it was full of joy and left it impossible for you not to chuckle with him.

When he calmed down, he looked back at you. The proximity startled you; even with splotches of red on his face post-laughter, you were struck again by his beauty. Light creases still resided by his brilliant eyes as he held your gaze.

“I won’t argue with that description of us,” he smirked, “but I really think we can help. I know whatever is out there must be scary, if it’s stopped anyone leaving this place. But we only want to help you. Is there nothing you miss from the outside?”

Unconsciously, your eyes slid to the flowers standing proud on your dresser.

“I don’t even remember what lies beyond the woods,” you confessed.

“Then wouldn’t you like to see?”

A look back showed Jin still staring at you with hopeful eyes that cracked your heart a little bit.

“We shouldn’t hope like this,” you smiled apologetically, “it’s just too risky.”

Dropping it for now, he grimaced slightly. Your heart ached even at the small sign of hurt on his face. Before you could say anything, however, he was swiftly moving on.

“But we can stay with you?”

“Yes,” you agreed, “I don’t have too much space, but you can fit three of four in here, and the others should be alright downstairs.”

“We’re much obliged,” he smiled, and you couldn’t get enough of the happy creases forming by his eyes. “But what about you? I wouldn’t like to deprive you of a place to sleep.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, “there’s one more room I can use.”

Jin was the perfect gentleman, helping you set out the space before returning downstairs. Without even asking, he was preparing tea, insisting it was the least he could do. And as the others returned with jokes on their lips and hands full of things they had bought, you saw the way he laughed with them like they were brothers.

You found you didn’t mind having them there so much, after all. Even when they grumbled or snapped, it was never long before they fell back into familiar banter, and it was like having a family again.

For a few days, a sort of routine was established. Namjoon always hoped to gather ‘information’ on whatever evil was surrounding your town. Some went with him, others went to the gate.

Taehyung was soon well again, although you weren’t sure if that was a good thing. His regaining health was proving injurious to you, given the stress he caused. If he was still struck down, Jin wouldn’t have to fret over him so many times as he wandered stubbornly into the woods, always to become lost and end up back in the town.

But you couldn’t deny that life was certainly more lively.

One constant, however, was Seokjin. He went out the least, electing to stay and help you. It became something you looked forward to: the house emptying of others so you could drink tea and talk, or take him on small tours around your favourite parts of town.

It was pleasing to see the villagers become a little more accustomed to the new additions, too.

“You look so happy these days,” the baker told you as Jin picked out his favourite bread somewhere behind you.

At the time, you merely blushed as you thanked your friend, but on the short journey home, you realised it was true. Jin was rambling on about the time Jungkook had taken an axe to a waterfall that annoyed him once, another story of outside the woods to bring a grin to your face.

Pushing open the door for you back home, Jin held it open for you to go first. But just as you crossed the threshold, words met your ears that took your smile away in an instant.

“We’re thinking of going tomorrow.”

Whirling around, you stared in disbelief. Jin shuffled his feet, reluctant to meet your eye.

“You’re still thinking about going into those woods?” you exclaimed, incredulous.

“Yes…” he cocked his head, looking away, “we have to keep moving.”

Torn between stepping towards him or backing away, you stayed rooted to your spot.

“But… don’t you like it here? Are you not happy?”

When he looked up, his big eyes stole the breath from you. Behind a watery coating that welled up there, he looked so wounded. But, pressing his lips together, a corner dared to lift into a hopeful smile.

“…come with us?”

You inhaled sharply.

“No,” you shook your head firmly, “can’t you just stay here?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he pleaded, “but if the others are going, so am I. They’re my brothers.”

“You’ll never make it out alive!” you raised your voice, breathing heavily. But all that was betrayed by the way your voice overflowed and cracked, tears springing to your eyes that you blinked away.

“Don’t be like this, please,” he was calmer, stepping forwards and reaching out a hand…

It drew towards you and you so desperately wanted to take it, to fling yourself into his arms and feel him safe around you- but he was still leaving. You couldn’t change his mind. And if he was leaving you couldn’t allow him to take your heart with him.

You shied back, flinching from his hand. In turn, Jin froze, staring at you with such pain in his eyes that you couldn’t bear to look – and so you didn’t.

Turning away, you fled up the stairs.

“Y/N!” he called from behind you.

Hurriedly depositing the bags on your table, he dashed to follow you, reaching the room you had been sleeping in just as the door swung shut in his face. He had never been in there, but didn’t think twice about pushing the door open to get to you.

Calling your name again, he could barely blink before your teary face was in view, close as you tried to push the door closed again.

“Leave!” you begged, trying to inject as much venom into your wavering voice as you could.

“Y/N, please, I don’t want to go like this-“ Jin struggled to say, to make himself heard as you pushed the door back, “I want you to come with me! I don’t want to leave you behind, goddammit, because I don’t want to be without you! I love you!”

Ceasing in your every move as his words sunk in, your trembling frame pressed against the door. Closing your eyes, your face screwed up as juddery breaths left you. You could practically feel your heart shattering while he waited in silence for any response.

“Get out,” your voice was low, not daring to be louder.

Through the small crack remaining between the door and its frame, Jin watched you but didn’t move.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, “I shouldn’t- if you don’t feel the same-“

Casting your eyes heavenwards, you tried to form words, anything that would explain to him what was running through your head.

“No, Jin-“ you interjected, “I do! I do feel the same, I-I… that’s why I would rather you go.”

“But, Y/N,” he frowned, “if you love me, then let’s go! We can see the world together, we can do all the things I’ve been telling you about.”

“No,” you finally found your voice firmer, “because I l- because of how I feel, I don’t want to see you go into those woods. I don’t want to lose you.”

A beat as he sighed.

“I have to go… these boys are my brothers. Do you know how it feels, to have a family? Whether by blood or not, that is important. Can’t you understand that?”

For the first time, you finally raised your eyes to meet his, exhaling shakily.

“I know what it feels like to have a family…” your voice was quiet as you tried to spit the words out, “and so I know how it feels when that is all lost. If you go into that forest, you’ll watch them die. If you love them as much as you say, you wouldn’t let them go there.”

“Because I love them, that’s why I have to go with them,” he insisted, “I’ll be beside them and I won’t let them die. If anything comes for them, I’ll be in its way.”

“So your mind is made up,” you whispered with a small nod, “then why are you still here?”

After a brief pause, you felt a small push against the door instead of a response.

“Won’t you let me in?” he asked softly.

Resolve crumbling, you finally stepped back. As the door fell open without resistance, you sucked in a breath and held it, watching as he finally laid eyes on the space.

Around him, he could barely see the walls through the greenery erupting at every corner. But these couldn’t be plants for your apothecary – he would recognise those. No, these looked to be just for decoration.

Dotted around the foliage, from the leafy stems at the sides to the smaller pots lining every surface, were flowers of all kinds. Just like the ones in the vase in your room, that had never moved even now that four boys were sleeping there.

While his head turned this way and that, taking in the multitude of plants, his mouth formed words never spoken, unsure what to say. In the end, he settled for-

“What is this?”

Finally meeting your eyes, he awaited your explanation.

“This… was my brother’s room,” you spread your arms out, indicating the space as you continued, voice flat and dejected, “he loved flowers. He would always bring some back to me when he went out to the forest… He was one of the people who tried to defend the forest. Since people started going missing, all the men of the town joined together to try and defeat whatever foe was troubling us…

“But then the same thing happened to them. He was so eager to protect us, have an adventure… and so confident. And of course, he was my older brother, so I believed him. On the day he left, he gave me that vase of flowers, and told me to wait for him at dinner. Only, they never returned. A handful made it back, terrified and telling about how they fought but were defeated, and they had no choice but to run. No one dared collect the bodies, or…”

Your breathing shuddered, throat constricting as you spoke, but only now did a sob cut you off.

Instantly beside you, Jin’s arms circled you without hesitation, pulling you to his chest. You couldn’t resist if you tried, falling into them as you collected yourself.

“Shh, I’m so sorry,” he was muttering into your hair, pressing small kisses there between his comfort, “I’m sorry, I’m here, it’s okay.”

Bringing your arms around his middle in return, you held him fiercely.

At last, when you were able to draw a breath, you pulled your face away to look him in the eye.

“Come with me,” you said. Before he could question, you were grabbing his hand, leading him resolutely to the back corner of the room. As you got closer, however, it became clear it went further then he could initially see.

“This,” you sniffed, still wiping at your eyes, “is my teleportation circle. You can come here anytime-“

Dropping his hand, you walked forwards, crouching to wipe dust from the surface so the sigils around the edge could be clearly read.

“-I haven’t used it in some time. It doesn’t function between here and outside the woods, so I’m not sure if it will even help…”

Trailing off, you turned to find him watching you fondly.

“You have to be safe,” you said.

“I will be.”

Despite the darkness around you, your eyes were wide open. You should be asleep, you knew that much, but they certainly weren’t considering closing any time soon.

Jin may have told you to take care as his friends waited at the door, leaving you with one last (and your first) kiss.

It was partly that moment keeping you up; if you closed your eyes, maybe the night wouldn’t disappear from your grasp and wake you up further in time from Jin and his perfect smile, with your memory of his pillowy lips moulding to yours just right fading. No, you wanted this to live in your head for as long as you could, dedicating the still of night to replaying the moment, wishing for it not to just be in your head anymore.

Jin promised he would be alright. He promised to come back, but your little faith had not backed off. It was too late for you to save your poor heart, however, and that was mostly why you had yet to fall into the clutches of slumber.

Somewhere out there in the woods right now, Jin was probably lost, possibly fighting.

Tossing your body over, you looked out into the room, rows of plants and flowers barely discernible in the pitch black. You had remained in your brother’s old room, unable to face the emptiness of your own which was so recently filled with life.

But though you refused to let yourself cling to any stupid, childish hope, there was clearly still a child within you as your thoughts flitted unbidden to Jin’s face, the way he would smile when he saw you again.

Your sleep-deprived mind could only fight off that child for so long.

That child, that had believed your brother’s bold confidence. That had dreamed of fighting too. You had wailed and complained that day, wanting to go with him, inspired with the same flame as him to fight for your town.

But that fire was snuffed out with him.

Still staring ahead, only the empty room greeted you. The house was too quiet. Over the past week or so, the boys had been courteous and tried to be silent at night, but at the very least there was always some giggling, some whispers or floorboards creaking as they probably snuck out to pilfer some snacks.

At least you had known you were not alone.

But you had been by yourself for so long, why did it taste so bitter now?

Just as you were longing for some activity in your barren house, a sound startled you. Jerking upright immediately, you were instantly aware how close the sound was, a sort of whooshing that is soon joined by a flaring light.

Scrambling from beneath your covers, you threw your hands up to shield your eyes that have been in darkness for some hours.

“Y/N?”

The call echoed through the entire house, even though you were in the same room. You were sure you must be dreaming. That’s Jin’s voice.

Dropping your arms, your eyes searched the space in a second.

Sure enough, there he is.

Your mouth hung open, a gasping mix between a sob and a laugh escaping as he rushed over to you from your teleportation circle in the corner.

“Jin?” you dared to smile as he approached.

But then you saw his face.

“Do you have healing potions?” he asked, voice raw with desperation, “we need medicine, a-and bandages, and anything you have-“

Nodding, you instantly complied, not needing to question his motive. Grasping his hand (and oh god it’s real and he’s still alive and with you-) you dashed down the stairwell, hurrying to gather supplies with him hot on your tail.

“What’s going on?” you panted as you raced back up the stairs, arms full, “what did you find?”

Kicking the door open none too gently, Jin spared you a glance.

“It’s a beholder. It’s clearly been ravaging your forest for a long time now, and it’s powerful. I’m sure that’s what’s blocking any magical connection with the outside, too.”

You had read about beholders somewhere before. Magical monsters with too many eyes, destroying all but the most powerful in its path. That was surely not something the party would dare to face.

“So you’re coming back?”

“No,” he stopped, right outside your circle, to look at you, “we got away, but most of us are hurt. Now we know what it is, if we track it down again, we can put a stop to this.”

How a grin adorned his face, you had no idea. His friends were in the middle of danger, on the verge of death, and he still had hope.

“That’s…”

You didn’t know what it was.

Your town, free? It was beyond your imagination. Of course it was what you all dreamed of, but never dared to believe could come true.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes travelled from the man in front of you to the flowers surrounding you here.

You stood a little taller.

“I’ll come with you.”

Jin’s eyes bulged, freezing as he stepped into the circle.

“What?”

“I said I’ll come with you,” you repeated, stepping right in after him, “it’s time to stand up for my village.”

A full-watt grin broke onto his face then, and if it wasn’t for the supplies filling his arms, he would have swept you into them. Instead, he settled for surging forwards, lips pressing eagerly into yours.

Eyes sliding closed, your heart took off in somersaults as the moment you had never thought you would see again repeated, his soft lips calming any nerves with the fire it lit up in you. Too soon, he was pulling back, and you chased after him for one last peck.

Giddy smiles on your faces despite the minefield you were heading into, you broke apart at last.

Around you, the circle burst into life. Shooting from the floor, light cut through your vision, soon engulfing you as the distantly familiar feeling of the world shifting around you took over your being.

Once it settled again, light retracting back into the earth at your feet, the world was dark once more. This time, though, the darkness was more encompassing, thick tree trunks standing between the forest floor and the moon, uncompromising.

A smaller light emerged, blinking into life above your head.

Looking around, you caught the tail end of Jin muttering another incantation, before he and the light were moving forwards into the forest.

Treading in his wake, your head never stayed still, searching the darkness around you constantly as you wove through the trees. Every time Jin disappeared behind one, you would scurry to keep up, heart accelerating in your chest as the darkness encroached again.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before you reached another light between the trees, hovering above the familiar group of men.

Jin was already on the ground, tending to Jimin, so you followed his lead and headed for Jungkook. On your way, you handed some bottles to Yoongi, kneeling beside Namjoon. All of them looked worn-out, slumped against the coarse bark with bruises blooming on exposed skin.

Jungkook was unusually quiet, eyelids drooping as you crouched beside him. A gash was bleeding along his collarbone. Dabbing at it, you shook him gently, instructing him to down one of your potions as soon as he seemed alert enough.

It seemed to revive him somewhat, although this had the unfortunate effect that he was more alert to the pain as you patched him up.

But you were experienced, and it was quick work. Soon enough you were also sitting back, looking around the party. They seemed a little more at ease now. You were happy you were able to help them. Even from such a short time around these men, you had grown attached, and now you were sure they could be a family, just as Jin had told you.

“We’ll take a few hours,” Namjoon was telling everyone, “then we’ll go and hunt for that thing again. This time we’ll be more prepared.”

Agreeing, everyone began to settle down. Making his way over to you, Jin eased himself to the floor too, making your heart soar as he tucked himself behind you, arms circling you from behind.

Closing his eyes peacefully, he tucked his chin over your shoulder, muttering against your neck.

“I’m glad you came. You’re so brave.”

“Oh, shush,” you sank back into his arms.

Barely a moment later, though, and he was stiffening, sitting upright behind you. His arms dropped from their place, head lifting away from you.

“Hey,” you groaned from the loss of comfort, only to be hushed.

“No, really, shush,” he hissed at your affronted look, eyes already far away, scanning the trees.

Turning your attention to the forest yourself, you heard what must have frightened him. Not too far away, a splintering ricocheted through the trees.

“Hey, guys,” Jin’s voice carried through the secluded space easily, but just as a few heads perked up, the cracking sound swelled in a deafening crescendo, culminating in a resounding thud.

Jin was on his feet, and he wasn’t the only one.

“It’s here,” Namjoon’s voice was bracing.

Rising to stand as well, your eyes traced the path of a light sent up by Jimin. Ascending through the trees, blinking as it crossed branches, eventually a silhouette made itself known.

That was certainly no tree.

Another cacophony announced the falling of a second tree as the shape advanced further into the pool of light, seizing the breath in your lungs. The creature didn’t even touch the ground, hovering instead as it bulldozered any tree standing in its path.

Scattering, you followed Jin through the trees to avoid its advance, but you could never escape its gaze. Worse than anything you could imagine just reading about this monster, it had eyes protruding from its sickening mass of a body, which also held a grotesquely large eye above a gaping mouth of fangs.

“We discussed a plan,” Jin hissed in your ear as he positioned himself in front of you, hands already balling in front of him, a light forming within as he prepared to attack, “we’ll hit it long enough for Jungkook and Taehyung to get close. They’re the best warriors, and they can chop off some of the eyes. It gets weak quickly, so we just have to stay alive and buy as much time as we can.”

Nodding quickly, you also readied a spell.

The first beam of light shot through the night from between trees somewhere on the beast’s other side. It spun, furious roar gargling from its belly, but Jin had already shot from beside you.

Reeling from the fire that struck it, the awful mass of eyes flailed, and another cry was drawn just after you caught sight of a shadow below the beast, a glint of metal slicing through the air.

“Nice,” Jin muttered, darting behind the trunk of a tree.

For once, you didn’t follow. Stepping resolutely into the space, face set, you raised your hands, light firing from your palms in bursts. It had been a while since you practised magic this way, but you had no time to doubt yourself before the creature was bellowing again, turning your way-

Ducking behind a tree, your eyes met Seokjin’s where he stood pressed against the next one.

You couldn’t help the grin bursting onto your face, mirrored by his own.

Behind you, the night lit up with flashes that bathed the trees around you, illuminating the deep blackness. A shadow with too many limbs writhed among the branches, mingled with loud and angry roars.

The monster began to retreat.

Already missing several eyes, thick blood sliding down its body, it sent out a blast of its own. Above you, the tree branches ignited, crashing down in flames just as your feet raced away, jumping over thick tree roots.

“Let’s get on the other side of it,” Jin urged, an arm finding its way around your back as you darted together through the undergrowth.

Still running, he sent another bolt flying towards the beast, knocking it into a large tree which creaked, slowly beginning to topple to the forest floor.

In panic, your eyes searched the ground around it as your feet came to a stop in what had become a clearing due to the fallen trees. The others seemed unscathed from this distance, all of them racing to join you, surrounding the monster.

Before the beast could act, you were firing again. Barely hitting as you caught your breath from your previous sprint, you caught it nonetheless, giving enough space for Taehyung to lunge forwards again, taking a leap and succeeding in hacking off an eye.

Wincing, you flinched back from the appendage as it crashed to the ground, but a whoosh of magic was already being fired again, fight still not ceasing.

As it weakened, though, the monster was becoming more enraged. Growling, it lashed out, colossal teeth gnashing towards the fighter who had just robbed it of an eye. Tripping over a gnarled root, Taehyung was inches from the clash of the beast’s teeth as he fell, but soon the thing was spinning again.

With horror, you found the target it had selected next. Apparently Jungkook had seen a way in when the creature was diverted, but as his sword raised, the eye in question swivelled to focus directly on him.

Eyes widening, you saw the beast rear back in slow-motion, preparing its attack but your feet were glued to the ground, rendering you helpless as the split second played out like an hour in front of you, magic sparking and fizzling through the air towards the youngest-

“Jungkook!”

It wasn’t until the cry met your ears that you realised Jin had left your side, speeding across the clearing.

Then time hit you like a train, every moment rushing by in a blink as you cried Jin’s name, raising your hand on instinct, summoning your magic without a thought.

Nothing happened.

Blinking in surprise, you looked at your hand, feeling the magic flow towards it and… stop.

A faint glow surrounded you, emanating from the beast’s eye, holding you still, keeping your magic captive within you as you watched Jin jump at his younger brother-

The bolt of magic sliced through the air. Jin was in front of Jungkook. The blow cut the darkness, driving straight into his chest, both men flung backwards from the impact.

Movement.

You saw it as the glow finally released you, too late. Stumbling forwards, your feet had to remind themselves how to move but then they were overtaking each other in haste until you crashed to your knees at Jin’s side.

The movement had been Jungkook.

He fought his way from underneath Jin, who merely flopped to the side.

“Jin!” your voice came out an unstable cry, alien to your ears. Jungkook beside you was frozen, watching as you tugged his friend, his brother over onto his back, only to be met with an unseeing face.

No response.

Shaking him, desperate, raw pleas falling over and over from your lips, you already knew it was too late. The blazing lights still flashing through the night only lit up paling skin, your hands as they searched his neck for the steady pulse of life that it never found.

Tears burned down your cheeks long before you were even aware of them.

And then they were soaking, breath refusing to enter your lungs as you gasped, hands now surrounding you, the night still. That cool light Jimin cast earlier was the only thing hanging over the scene as the boys gathered round.

Taehyung sheathed his bloody sword, the giant forgotten where it lay on the ground somewhere behind you.

All you could see was Jin’s face. He did what he said he would do: get in the way of that monster and his brothers.

The boys held each other. They even held you, although it was not the same. Just a hand on your shoulder, a pat on your back.

You could go with them.

You went back to your town.

The house was empty again, and your kitchen began to fill with tea, just as the room upstairs stacked with plants. You made Jin’s favourite mixtures, and they sold well.

You never drank them.

Your house was still again. The darkness was never alive. You were alone.

And no matter how hard you wished, you would never conjure the feeling of his lips on yours. He would never turn up just as you needed him.

The circle in your brother’s room gathered dust again.

People flooded from the village, his name on their lips, their saviour.

You would walk to the gates often. Sometimes you strayed into the woods. You cared for the fire he had reignited within you, wanting to keep him with you in some way.

But the baker didn’t think you looked happy anymore.

You sold your potions, accepted adventurers that came more often now, but you stayed out of their way. And at night, you would be encased by a glow as you kicked and screamed with magic frozen in your veins. You never did escape it.

Seven sets of eyes blinked at you from around the table. Their mouths hung open in something akin to horror.

Your face was split in an irresistible grin.

“…you actually killed me?”

A bubble of laughter finally rose, spilling from your lips at the sight of Seokjin’s enraged expression.

“That was traumatic,” Yoongi sat back in his chair as you calmed down from your laughter.

“But I was gonna spend my life with your npc!” Jin argued, hand slapping the tabletop, “or do you not want to be with me?”

“That’s probably why she had to kill you, hyung,” Jimin hid a giggle behind his hand, “we already have enough members in this campaign.”

“Yah!” Jin spluttered, face reddening, “b-but, why kill me? And not them?”

“Rude!” you pressed a hand to your heart, pausing where you were shuffling away your pages of campaign notes. “Did you not have fun being my boyfriend, Jin?”

“Yeah, you seemed to be having great fun,” Taehyung smirked, jabbing at Jin with his elbow.

“Just say you want to date and go,” Namjoon agreed, shaking his head in exasperation.

Jin pouted, only eliciting more laughter from the group as he folded his arms.

“Shut it, you lot!” he complained.

Eventually, your friends were filing out of your house, thanking you between laughter for another good campaign and the promise to play again the same time next week. Only one lingered by your doorway.

“I can’t believe you really killed me off,” Jin spoke.

“Cut it out,” you chuckled, “I know you’ll miss being my lover terribly, but I’m sure you can manage.”

He eyed you as you kicked the living room door shut, joining him in the hall.

“Of course I will,” his lips quirked into a smug smile – unfortunately a very familiar look on your friend – “your loss.”

And with that tossed over his shoulder, he was stepping outside.

Shutting the door behind him, you listened to the sound of his engine beginning and rumbling away outside. A large breath left you.

He was right. You knew the real thing would be better, but you would take what you could get.

Your loss.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs always appreciated 💜

Again, to Eva, happy happy birthday!! In case you were interested, the prompts I was given were ‘dungeons and dragons’ (again haha) and ‘intelligent’, just like you! I love you lots and hope your day was great xx Also one last big thank you to @eternalseokjin​ for all the help with this, whether dnd related or just me ranting about the angst😅I appreciate it!

Taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @kb-bangtanenthusiast​ @ttaechwita​ 

[soft-for-them]

the interview ♡ dani clayton x reader

anon: Hey sweetie! I’m so so happy you’re accepting Bly Manor request!!!.... my heart’s still healing. Can you write Dany x Reader? Something very fluffy please.. let your imagination run wild

please note because of prolonged break this is pretty short, i watched Bly last year so it isn’t at the forefront of my memory. anyway, i hope my queers like this. wouldn’t say it’s the fluffy-ist but i’m up for a part two.

You were running late for a job interview and like always you are flustered beyond belief, though it is through no fault of your own. You had gotten to the underground train station on time but there had been a rather lengthy delay that has now cause you to be late.

On any other given day you would have waited that long time for the train to arrive but you are in such rush that you had to run to the nearest bus stop to get on a random bus in hopes that you could make up for lost time.

You had gotten off of that bus and boarded another one, eating up all your pocket change as you did, and once you had gotten off that bus you had briskly walked to your interview.

With dishevelled hair and your borrowed floral blouse, you rush into the office waiting area and profusely apologise to the woman at the desk who looks to not care about your late arrival.

‘I very sorry I late, have I missed the interview?’ you apologise once again to the glasses wearing woman.

The woman peers up to you with a sweet but tired smile, the only type of smile a secretary would have from talking to too many people in one day.

‘Your interview isn’t yet Miss?’ she waits for you to say your name.

‘Oh, (Y/n) (l/n)!’ you reply as she makes you sign a sign in sheet.

‘Thank you, please sit down.’ the woman points at the mass of empty seats, it seems to you like you’re the first person here despite being about ten minutes late.

You say a quick ‘thank you’ to her as you had shuffle to a close by seat to her desk.

It is only you and the secretary in the waiting room. The room is quite drab for such rich owners’ offices, everything just seemed too dark and moody.

The debate has begun in your head on whether you would work in that office despite its gloomy and damn right negative feeling it has. Sure, you need a job and you would take anything but you are also glad that the job interview you are at wasn’t for an office job.

It was so lucky that you have the opportunity to even be interviewed for such good paid job and whilst most people wouldn’t want to be an over glorified babysitter you’d much rather have this job that the limited jobs women have nowadays.  

With your head held down thinking too much about the pros and cons of working a ‘normal’ office job you did realise instead of with some rich children the sound of clip-clooping heels on the ground.

You keep you head down as you here another woman speaking to the secretary, her American accent sending chills down your spine.

She more or less asks the same thing as you did and you hear her sit down near you.

For a while you both stay quite but whether it be through nerves or her just being polite, she begins talking to you.

‘Hi-‘ you look up to her shyly not looking her in the eyes, ‘I’m Dani.’

It’s so hard not to stare at her for the woman in front of you, Dani is utterly beautiful, the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.

Your little queer heart is beating too fast and you you’re sure you mouth is hanging open in pure shock.

‘(Y-y/n), nice to meet you.’ Out of pure politeness you hold out your hand.

Her lips curve up into a smile as her bigger, smoother hand encapsulates yours in a rather enthusiastic hand shake.

Is it an American thing that she’s shaking your hand so long or is she glad to see you, a random stranger?

Unknown to you Dani has be smitten with you ever since she walked in and saw you nervous looking figure. Call it gaydar but both you and Dani know straight away that neither of you are straight and it’s quite comforting that you both are near one another.

‘I’m sorry, I’m shaking your hand too much.’ She says retracting her hand from yours.

You really want to say ‘I don’t mind’ but all you do is stammer out some random words and look back down.

For the next five or so minute both of you steal glances at each other.

Dani keeps on looking at you fiddling hands, the curve of you face and how your eyes sparkle under the yellowing lights.

You keep on looking her up and down at the outfit she wears. It’s overly fancy compared to yours, her bowed blouse contrasting with her synched button up suit.

Once again you look at her but this time you both catch each other’s eyes, you quickly looking away.

‘You like what you see?’ Dani half jokes hoping that you do like what you see.

For a moment you think. If this was a gay bar or somewhere without straight people watching then you would have flirted back but you can’t out yourself in front of the desk woman. So instead you change the subject.

  ‘Why are you wearing a bum bag under such a nice suit?’

‘Bum bag? Oh, you mean my fanny pack.’ Dani rearranges her blazer to cover up the bag going across her hips.

‘I’ve lived in east London for almost ten years, we call them bum bags.’ Finally, you look up to her face.

‘Where are you originally from?’ her eyes connect with your but you don not look away this time.

‘(Place).’ You plainly say, ‘Though I do want to move somewhere less hectic.’

‘I guess it’s why you want this job.’

‘It’s good pay and in the countryside, who wouldn’t.’

‘Well that’s hope one of get the job!’ her smile is bright and it makes you blush.

.

.

Neither of you got the job.

Apparently, the secretary didn’t reprimand you both for being late was because there was already a person being interviewed.

Said person, an older woman with greying hair and a strict headteacher look, had gotten the job.

  You and Dani sit at a bar, leg almost touching as you both sip on your alcoholic drinks.

‘I think I seemed to meek.’ You say downing your drink, ‘He seemed too sad and I found it hard to look him in the eyes.’

‘It’s his loss, I would have hired you in a second over that crow looking woman.’

You giggle in delight as Dani’s hand travels down and pats your leg. You place you hand over hers making her keep her hand on you. Thankfully your hands are cover by the top of the bar so no one can see your hands connecting.

She squeezes your thigh and you both just sit there, her talking and you looking down at her hand.

  ‘It is bad that we didn’t get the job but if you want, I have some beers and a VHS player back home if you want to come and watch a film with me?’

‘I’d like that very much (y/n).’

.

.

.

haha! i’m not dead!

as said at the top, sorry this is so short. i might have to rewatch Bly again but i’m happy to take more bly manor requests.

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 03

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader |  Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary:  Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Might seem a little too unrealistic, whoops...

Word Count: 2.5k

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      My pen glided across the paper with ease, and I couldn’t help but smile when my signature looked back at me from the page on the table.

Reading through the three folders of fresh information had taken nearly an hour and a half to finish, but I only had myself to blame for that. I always took way too long to analyse everything I was getting myself into, never one to take massive risks when it came down to business.

I knew I would never refuse this deal though. 

It had been a week since the ‘fateful’ encounter. The spontaneous incident in which my entire world had forever changed, and the evidence sat right in front of me on the very table my knees knocked lightly against in anticipation. The same table situated in the main Bighit Entertainment building itself.

“Well shit, I knew I recognised the car!”

A familiar voice broke me from my trance, and I flicked my eyes upwards to see a very excitable Jungkook jogging towards me. His face was split into a somewhat shy grin, and I could immediately see how the corners of his eyes crinkled in joy as he finally reached my side.

To my shock, the surprises didn’t stop there, and I watched as six other very familiar people followed in their youngest member’s stead. The sliding doors to the company’s building finally slid shut, and so did my mind as the sudden nerves took hold.

“Hello noona, what a surprise! What brings you here?” Jungkook queried as he stood beside the couch where I was seated. I stopped my eyes from flickering over to where the other members of Bangtan were standing a few meters behind and smiled warmly at the younger boy.

“You probably thought you’d seen the last of me, right? It’s a bit of a long story, and all of you are probably busy so I won’t keep you.” I swallowed apprehensively as my eyes tore from his widened ones to gaze further behind. All of them were here, in the same proximity as me.

Controlling my breathing was a priority, sorry Kook.

I looked up again when someone made a loud noise of recognition, and Jimin jolted forward with his eyes blowing wide cutely. All of them were in light, breathable active wear of sorts due to the heat, but the sight of Jimin’s exposed biceps in particular made me sweat profusely.

“(Y/n)-ssi? Wah, I knew Jungkook wouldn’t just go up to a random girl like that. How are you doing?”

I laughed as the maknae huffed at his elder’s words, and crossed one leg over the other to face them properly. Seeing as I’d met these two before, the going was a little less rough as it would have been if all seven of them had just jumped straight over.

“Nice to see you again Jimin-ssi. I’m doing amazing surprisingly, how about all of you?” The smile was natural, but I was surprised I could even keep a level tone when my emotions were positively storming beneath the surface.

I could see Hoseok and Seokjin exchanging curious murmurs with each other as they observed the interaction from afar, while Taehyung was animatedly questioning Namjoon much to the latter’s gradual irritation. Yoongi remained still, but he had tugged one of his earphones out to gather snippets of whatever was happening. He wasn’t glaring, but his thoughtful gaze speculated as it switched between me, the maknaes and eventually Namjoon instinctively.

“We’re great, just about to start daily practices, actually,” Jimin responded and returned my smile instantly. I nodded my head in understanding, my ruffled hair swinging into my eyes yet again. The amount of times I had run my hands through it in the past hour or so caused it to become messy, and it had been infuriating me more and more as time dragged on.

I caught Namjoon’s inquisitive gaze behind Jungkook’s shoulder when I flipped the straying hair away. The rapper tightly smiled before gracing me with a tiny courteous wave. It was easy to see he was just as curious as Jungkook had been about my presence in the Bighit building.

I waved back, and saw Taehyung joining into the silent exchange with his own doubly excited hand gestures. I couldn’t believe how instantly warm and friendly the boy already seemed in person.

“Are those the things you had to sign after…the other day?” Jungkook wondered aloud after looking back at his hyungs, then down to the sheets of paper sprawled on the table. My pen loudly tapped on the documents twice before I smirked.

“Nope, those were signed on the day. This’ll sound pretty straightforward, but I somehow got a job here.”

“You what?” Jungkook’s bulging eyes and slacked jaw made themselves known, and he exchanged surprised gazes with Jimin and Namjoon behind him before smiling widely. “That’s great noona, what will you even be doing?”

Namjoon, upon hearing the sudden shift in conversation, couldn’t douse his flames of curiosity any longer it seemed. He tentatively made his way over with his large hands stuffed deeply in the pockets of his shorts.

“What’s happening, kids?”

“(Y/n)-ssi just said she got a job here, that’s amazing,” Jimin gushed and I bowed in gratitude towards both him and Jungkook as they congratulated me. Namjoon’s eyes flashed with a few emotions before settling down. His eyebrows raising high before furrowing, then lifting high again as he nodded with a gentle smile appearing on his tanned face. I could understand if he was suspicious, as my entrance into the company had not been the most professional one out there.

“That’s great (Y/n). I guess you can let us know the details later, but for now, welcome to the Bighit family.” His dimpled grin and outstretched hand of welcoming and acceptance caused many feelings to swirl around within me. I was so truly blessed this fortnight, seeing as though I’d landed a brilliant job and met some of my favourite people in the process. Experiencing Namjoon’s kindness was just a sweet cherry on top.

“Ah, thank you so much. I know I’ll love being here,” I grasped his significantly larger palm and shook it confidently, relishing in the feeling of his slightly calloused hand engulfing my own. I knew I probably held his gaze for a heartbeat too long, but it didn’t remain. The moment was interrupted by some staff calling them from down the hallway.

Probably their choreographers.

“Oh, when will we see you again? You still didn’t mention what you’re doing,” Jungkook spluttered when the older members began traipsing away to follow the sound of the impatient voice. Taehyung looked back with a pout, and I pouted back light-heartedly to let him know I was just as eager as he was to finally meet. The others, including Namjoon, left with polite smiles and waves, obviously having their priorities straight unlike the two vocalists standing before me.

“I’m an interpreter now. And you two should seriously think about getting to practice.” I raised an eyebrow, craning my head to see where the others had disappeared to down the hall. Jimin at least had the sense to start making his way backwards, futilely tugging on Jungkook’s shirt. My suggestion had a delayed effect, but Jungkook finally bowed again before turning around to follow the blonde boy.

“Have fun, I’ll talk to you guys another time!” I called out and returned to my paperwork after hearing their hasty farewells.

My hands and face were tingling from all the interaction I had barely been able to comprehend. How was I not a stuttering mess whenever they acknowledged me? I’d always thought for sure something like that would be the case if I ever met them. Hell, whenever I thought about meeting them, it would always be at some kind of fan meeting where I would only get a few choice words to say…or rather rehearse.

With a sigh, I recalled how this situation had morphed into an integral part of my life, that part being my career. Even though I was only a mere Uber driver, it seemed pure luck had rained down upon me within the span of just two days. I must have cured diseases in my past life for these things to be granted to me so suddenly.

~

“If I said I was fluent in Spanish, would that help?”

The woman whipped her head around to gaze at me thoroughly, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. Why had I just gone and boldly inserted myself into their predicament? Bighit was a large and successful company, they could figure something out for sure. Rescheduling to add another day wouldn’t even be a problem if the donor could stay in a hotel somewhere in the city, just for example.

Still, it’s not like I know the circumstances.

“Uh, Miss-” The woman stopped her awkward approach when Bang PD raised a hand suddenly. His smile turned in my direction, and I felt my shoulders relax when I was reminded yet again of his direct, but kind attitude.

“You’ve done us a great service already Miss (L/n) (F/n), we couldn’t trouble you further.”

I opened my mouth to respond when the loud ringtone of the woman echoed along the walls of the dormitory reception. She picked it up and I kept an eye on Bang PD’s face while he scanned over her. When her facial expression winced, Bang PD frowned deeply with a sharp exhale, and he turned back to me once she’d shaken her head at him. This obviously indicated something I’d missed, but it most likely meant whatever help they had tried to line up for themselves had failed.

“Well, it turns out we may need your help once more. Miss (F/n). I’m afraid I won’t be able to pay you as much as I already have.”

“Please, I seriously don’t need to be paid for this one. It’s on me.” I smiled and my keen, pointed gaze left no room for argument. The short man sighed and shook his head with a chuckle, looking at his assistant beside him before gesturing for me to follow them outside. “We’ll be heading to the actual Bighit building for this meeting, are you an experienced interpreter?”

The woman begrudgingly agreed with her boss’ plan and fell into step beside me. I wouldn’t be driving my own car out of here, but would be dropped back later apparently. I answered him as we all clambered into a transport van. “I’ve done some work with interpreting, and I have a bachelor’s degree of International Studies to support it. I earned that back in (Y/c).”

The woman’s eyes widened, and she exchanged a glance with her equally impressed boss before returning it to me. “So how many languages are you fluent in?”

“Five actually, that’s Korean, English, Spanish, (language choice 1) and (language choice 2). They’re at different levels of fluency, but I can definitely hold conversations in each.” I smiled, feeling proud of my achievements so far.

Yes, even though I was only a mere Uber driver, I still had big plans for my future. Hence why I was even travelling to Korea in the first place. It was to continue my studies and gain experience for various languages. I was planning to enrol into a famous university at some point during the next couple of years, and I was filled with overwhelming glee that I was going to receive some first-hand work experience with interpreting today. Only a couple of months into my travels!

“That is truly amazing, every company needs someone like you,” Bang PD spoke in awe, and I dipped my head to him in appreciation. The woman wrote something on her planning clipboard and then reached down to punch out a text to whomever had called her before.

“Say, how would you feel if I asked you to work for Bighit, Miss (Y/n)?”

His words shocked me to my very core, and I almost choked on my own saliva in response. The woman also balked at his words before an understanding and calculating expression appeared. She nodded slowly and then met my eyes with her strikingly serious ones.

“You would be such an asset, as our current interpreters are only numbered few. They don’t have the extent that you do either, and a wider range of languages means a wider range of opportunities. Boss, this is…” She trailed off and her hair whipped around with her head as she caught Bang’s chuckling grin.

“I know, why do you think I asked?”

My mind was reeling from the new turn of events. Working for Bighit? I was surely dreaming. This was something majority of fans wished for with their whole, open hearts. To be close to their favourite idols for most days of the week, and to see what goes on behind the scenes of the various shows and schedules.

How do I even wrap my brain around this?  

“I-I would actually love to, but it’s not really that easy, right?” I stammered, my eyes blown wide and my heart erratically hitting my ribcage with every spoken syllable.

“No, there’ll be heaps of paperwork and necessary background checks, etcetera etcetera,” Bang PD began. “But I basically had an interview with you before. I would love to have you on our team, and I’m sure you’d love to be on ours.”

His smirk and chuckle was enough to have me burying my face into my hands in embarrassment. Heat was flaring up my neck, and I knew the tops of my ears weren’t dissimilar. “I know I’m a fan, but I promise it wouldn’t get in the way of anything.”

I laughed along with him, my emotions almost spilling out onto my cheeks as I fully revelled in what had happened.

I’m going to work for them? And in turn help the process of Bangtan’s success? Bloody hell what has even happened to my life?

The music industry had actually interested me as well during my teenage years, but getting to try both career pathways in one bundle was legitimately too good to even be true. My heart was fluttering.

“Yes, well, we’re going to see how you go in the meeting here, but from what I’ve already gathered you have very strong willpower and morals. I easily judge people when I meet them, and I can tell you put everything into what you do. You’re compassionate and make decisions quick and easy, as shown by how you rescued our little ones today. Without your help, they would have struggled, and with your help now, I know we can strive for larger goals in Bighit’s future. Additionally, that’s helping our artists strive for larger goals within their careers too.”

I closed my eyes, unable to stop the spread of inevitable happiness throughout my very being. Breathing deeply, I joined his gaze from across the car seat with a sparked confidence, and I saw the assistant even smile at me approvingly.

“I won’t let you down, Bang PD-nim.” 

          Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

tagged: @l4life​

[aspaceformyselffics09]

Upside down - Chapter 2: Of Memories and meetings

A/n: So, Hi guys, sorry it’s been a long time. I’ve been having trouble balancing my work hours and self care hours lately. Which is why the delay. But, I also wanted to take my own time working on this particular fic, all because through this, I’ve decided to adress something very personal to me. It wasn’t an easy decision. But I gotta try right? I initially tried to write this story quite a long time ago. Adressing the same issue I wanted to talk about. But somewhere down the way, I just couldn’t find myself to move ahead with the writing. I wasn’t really ready to talk about it back then. Now? I’m not so sure either. But all I know is that I feel the need to talk about it. Please read on your own accord and with caution. The fic talks a lot about sexual abuse I experienced as a child and the effects it had on my teenage and young adulthood. If this is too much for you, please don’t read it or force yourself to read it. Thank you <3

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Summary:  After an abrupt and a drastic turn of events, you find yourself, married to Kim Namjoon, a son of the CEO of Kim enterprises as the part of a political and business arrangement between your father’s company and the Kims throwing your quiet life, upside down.  

Genre: Angst, romance, slice of life, slow burn, fluff, Arranged marraige AU,Non Idol AU.

Rating: NC17

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Implied past child sexual abuse, graphic description of a panic attack. Please read with caution.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

Perhaps the very first memory of this recurring incident in your life dates back to the time when you were just about six or seven years old. Maybe a bit younger or a bit older. You don’t remember all the details very well. You were sitting on the couch, your legs dangling on its edge. A faceless man proceeds to strip you of your white floral dress and suck on your nipples. Another faceless man has his hand sliding up your thighs inching closer and closer towards your crotch while you just sit there, seemingly clueless and confused by their actions.

Now somewhere deep within your mind, you couldn’t fathom if this memory even belonged to you. Were you the child sitting on the couch in that ongoing circumstance? Or were you simply peeking into the memories of someone else who looked exactly like you? Is that even possible? No, not likely. It doesn’t make any sense. If it really did belong to you, why have you recalled this particular memory at this moment in time? You were six or seven back then, so why now? Years and years later. As far as you remember, you were peacefully going on about your life and suddenly you became aware of this small piece of information from your childhood that instantaneously amplified itself and took over every remaining space in the walls of your consciousness. And now, as days, weeks, months, and years go by, it just floats your ocean like a lone sailor in search of land but never quite being able to find one.

It just floats and floats and drifts along.

You sometimes made it a point to ask people if they ever forgot and recalled strange or weird memories out of nowhere. Like you were just sitting in your balcony, sipping on your morning coffee, and then BAM! You were transported back to a time in your past that you can hardly recollect or make any sense of. Now, while most people did say that it was common for your mind to often jumble up or make a puzzle out of one’s memories, you still wondered if it was possible for you to forget something as vital and important as this? Surely a man touching and suckling on the nipples of a seven-year-old is not a common practice and nothing insignificant to overlook. Then why did it fade away into the background?

Or, maybe, this could be a fake memory. Something your mind created for whatever purpose of its own. But that doesn’t make sense either. The details in this scenario are too vivid, too detailed, and deeply persuasive for it to be fake.  Things like the pattern on your frock or the couch upon which you were sitting, the voices, their touch, the sensations of their breath on your skin, etc. And even though you can barely recall the faces of the people involved, the rest of the details felt way too real, overwhelmingly powerful for them to be fake or mere imitations. And besides, it’s these details that give you the feeling that there must be a bout of truth to that situation or the memory.

This evocative scenario would often come to you without warning. It shows up like an uninvited guest and swallows you whole regardless of the time or place. It doesn’t matter to it that you’re outside running an errand or meeting someone (like now) or whether you’ve holed yourself up in your studio trying to finish a commission. It just shows up, does what it has to do, and leaves just as quietly. The worst part of it all is that by the time you take notice of the silent visitor it’s already in front of you.  The air around you would grow thin and your entire body would feel like it’s frozen. With your heart pounding in your chest and your ears buzzing you could feel the panic build up and bubble through your veins as you slowly disconnect from your surroundings and get sucked into the core of your memory. The scene plays in front of your eyes over and over and over again. Like a record that is broken. As if you're prey trapped in its cobwebs.

It's during times like this that nothing seems to make sense. It's like you're caught in a suspension of time. The hours, minutes, and seconds melt together. Your thoughts are in a constant whirl and your head feels both airy and heavy at the same time. You wouldn’t know how long the episode lasted. A usual estimate would be for a few minutes. But sometimes it can stretch longer depending on how intense it is. To be honest, you were never able to tell how long it lasts. You just make an estimate of time depending on how weary or exhausted you feel.

“Y/n? Y/n?” There’s a sound. A fuzzy image slowly comes in front of you. The soft lilting voice seemed to have succeeded in piercing through the veil of darkness that was cast upon you and managing to pull you out of your reverie. You manage to force your eyes open and blink several times. Too bright. So you close them again.

“Are you okay?” The voice comes again, this time a tad bit more worried than before, “Do you need some water?”

“No”, You manage to croak out a reply, your voice shaking, “I’m fine”.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here”, the voice said, “Can you stand?”

You don’t really trust your voice so you just nodded. After a while of adjusting and controlling your breathing, you slowly open your eyes. The vision in front of you was blurry and unfocused. Underestimating the exhaustion your body is feeling, you try to stand up without help only for you to stumble over your feet. Your legs, barely being able to hold your weight. Your body is trembling and your head is spinning.

“Here let me help you”, The voice comes again as a pair of strong arms envelope your petite body and pull you off the floor in one swift motion. Although faltering a bit, you manage to stand but the hands don’t leave you yet.

“I’m alright, thank you”, you say, your voice hoarse. Reluctantly the hands leave you then.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks you once again as you take your seats back at your table in the restaurant. You can still feel the slight fuzziness in your head. Some customers and staff nearby look at you with worry in their eyes. Your throat feels dry and a part of you hates the attention trained on you. You always end up feeling this way after every reprising episode. You didn’t like to see, know that you caused concern to ingrain in other people. You didn’t like that you drew their attention on you. Always ending up feeling like it was something you faked in order to garner the interest of others. So you grab the glass of water sitting on the table and gulp it down your throat hoping that it would wash away all those messy thoughts in your head before they swallow you as a whole. Now’s simply not the time to be having such thoughts.

“I’m okay,” You nod at Namjoon, who doesn’t look convinced enough.

“I’m sorry I ruined our meeting,” You continue, bowing your head as a sign of an apology, “This wasn’t how I envisioned our first meeting to be”.

“No, no don’t be sorry,” Namjoon shook his head, “ There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m just glad you’re okay”.

You didn’t say anything but just nodded. This morning when you woke up and realized that you were supposed to be meeting your husband to be, you felt nothing but dread clog up your system. You didn’t know what to expect, whom to expect. You don’t know if you’re even going to feel mildly comfortable in their presence. What kind of a person are they? What if they’re shallow? What if they’re some rich, spoiled, and an entitled asshole? What if they are not nice?There were too many what if’s and no answers.

But Namjoon. This Namjoon was warm and refreshing like a gentle summer’s breeze. He was nothing but polite and full of dimpled smiles. It was kind of infuriating in a way because you can’t seem to get yourself to be angry at this person. When you were first informed of your wedding, you were angry. You were determined to hate everything about it. Adamant to let yourself be open, to at least try and see. And maybe this is why you loathe the fact that there’s nothing you could find to hate about Kim Namjoon. At least not yet. The man seemed genuinely likable and endearing in a way.

Namjoon stumbled into the restaurant as if he was carried in by a whirlwind. His hair was sticking out at odd ends, his coat messy, his glasses slightly misplaced on his nose, and apologies continuously spilling out of his lips. He was late by Half n hour to the time you were supposed to meet at. And profusely apologized, even though you told him that it was okay and that it was not a big deal. He later, rather sheepishly admitted that he got lost, went to a different restaurant, and waited there for about 15 minutes before he realized he was at the wrong place.

How could you direct your anger at someone like him?

“Is it okay if I asked you what happened before?” Namjoon asked, careful enough to not make you uncomfortable and respectful enough to not make you feel pressured to answer him.

“It’s just a dizzy spell,” You tell him, a weak smile on your face, “Not a big deal, don’t worry. I missed breakfast this morning.”

Namjoon nodded, reluctantly accepting that as an answer. And even if he didn’t seem convinced enough, he didn’t address it, which you were thankful for. You didn’t say anything further after this, both of you lapsing into an awkward silence. You just sat there fiddling around with the cutlery on the table, bouncing your knee, and sneaking occasional glances at Namjoon who seemed just as nervous as you are.

After a few minutes of painfully uncomfortable silence, Namjoon decided to break it.

“So...Are you hungry?” He asks, reaching out for his menu, then panics and backtracks, knocking a glass over in the process, “Sorry, stupid question, you just told me you missed breakfast”.

“Don’t worry”, You wave him off. A small amused smile playing over your lips, your hands reaching out to straighten the glass he knocked over.

“Let’s eat”.

You both quietly go through the menu and quickly decide what you both wanted to eat. After which Namjoon flags down a waiter and passes him your order.

“So, as we wait, we can maybe talk?” You suggested, trying to get back to normal. Gazing expectantly up at Namjoon.

“Yeah, cool”, He agrees, “We should talk”.

“Don’t get me wrong,” You cut to the chase, “It’s nothing personal, but I’m not all gaga about this wedding”.

“Touche,” Namjoon chuckles softly, “Neither am I. I never actually had any plans of getting married, So I have no idea how I feel about all of this if I’m being honest. And if I ever want to get married, I want to do it the right way. You know? Like, get to know the person, fall in love, and everything.”

“Me too,” You agree, nodding your head involuntarily at him, “Marrying a complete stranger out of the blue was probably the last thing I had in mind.”

Namjoon snickered at that.

“I’m sorry,” He continued after a beat of silence, “I’m sorry that you’re stuck in this situation. All because of my father and the company.”

“No, no, not your fault,” You shake your head, “ My father would have pretty much found some way or another to push this topic of marriage on me, whether it’s with you or someone else. As long as he’s sure he’s going to get something out of it.”

Namjoon nods along, a wistful expression on his face, “I feel you, mine’s pretty much the same”.

“At least we have something in common,” You remarked dryly.

Namjoon scoffs agreeing.

“So, I heard from my parents that you’re a music producer?”

“Oh yes!” Namjoon’s eyes lit up, a grin rapidly spreading across his face, “I run a studio along with a hyung of mine from college, Yoongi. He’s my best friend.”

“That’s amazing,” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips, “ I was actually quite surprised. When my father mentioned the Kims older son, I for some reason thought you’d be running for CEO or something. My apologies, I assumed.”

“Ah, I guess I do understand your train of thought,” Namjoon noded ruefully, “I know being a music producer isn’t really much. But I never really saw eye to eye with my father and my passion was always in music. I couldn’t just give it up you know? It’s more than life itself for me, if you take away music from me, I’d probably be nothing.”

“I don’t think that’s true Namjoon - ssi,” You disagreed with a small shake of your head, “I don’t think, music is all that defines you as a person. But I get what you mean. It’s kinda the same for me you know?”

Namjoon blinked at you, a slow endearing smile tipping his lips.

“I know,” He said softly, “You’re an artist, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” You agreed, “I kinda recently graduated. Other than a few design commissions on the side I’m not really doing anything big as of now. But I do get you. Art has always been everything to me. And just like you said, it’s more than life itself.”

“I think we have another point in common now,” Namjoon laughs. It’s a nice laugh you think. Soothing.

“By the way, thank you for saying that,” He adds.

You look at him, a question mark on your face.

“When you said that music isn’t all that defines me as a person”.

“Oh, of course, I was just telling you what I think,” You shrug.

By the time your meal arrived, you could feel the initial awkwardness of your meeting dispate quietly. And found yourself relaxing into the conversation.

“So, Namjoon - ssi”

“Just Namjoon is fine.”

“Oh, okay then, So Namjoon, I’m going to be straight forward.”

Sensing the change in the tone of your voice, Namjoon set his fork aside and looked up at you.

“I just wanted to know,” You clear your throat, “to be clear. What are you expecting out of this marriage?”

Namjoon kept quiet, his fingers running through his hair as he seemed to mull over your question.

“To be frank,” He spoke after a minute of silence, “ I don’t really know. I’m well aware that this is a situation we both have no choice in. And down the lane, I’m not even sure if this whole thing will work for us. And honestly, I don’t really expect anything from you. You are not obligated to do anything just because you know, we’re going to get married. But I think the least we could do is to be just decent to each other you know?”

You don’t say anything but nod agreeing.

“There isn’t much time before we get married,” He continues, “Not even a month I guess - “

“Not even a month?” You frown.

“Oh,” Namjoon stops speaking midway, looking at you in confusion, “Yeah, didn’t they tell you? I’m sorry, I thought you already knew. The wedding’s planned for the end of this month -”

“Wait what?” You released a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper, “At the end of this month?”

“Um, yeah…”

“What the fuck,” You set your chopsticks aside, trying to remain calm. From across you, you could feel Namjoon mouth something at you. But all the words that followed went through one ear and out of the other.

“Why wasn’t I told about this? No one told me anything about this!” You exclaim, your eyes wide with shock, “I...I thought that we had time. I thought that we would be given enough time to get to know each other. I...I was supposed to be leaving abroad for my master’s program in a month. Wow…”

“My father wanted to use the wedding as a way to cover up the financial situation of the company and your parents agreed,” Namjoon winced as he spoke. He looked uncomfortable and You couldn’t really bring yourself to empathize or feel bad for him. Raw anger stirred and flicked its tongue where it had been lying dormant within you all this while. Of fucking course the wedding is in a month. Of fucking course no one mentioned this important detail to you. Of fucking course it feels like everyone out there is working overtime to fuck you over. You can’t get married in a month. Not when you were supposed to go for your master’s program. You worked so hard to get into the university. It had meant everything for you. This is definitely not the time for you to get married.

“Fuck,” You choke out, ��Fuck, not so soon, not now.”

Everything was moving so fast that it felt like your head was spinning. Hot tears threatened to spill out of your eyes and you were doing everything in your power to not burst into tears right then and right there. This simply can’t be real.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispers, “I’m so sorry y/n”.

“No,” You shake your head. Your voice trembling and coming out colder than you made yourself be, “It’s not your fault.”

“I- I know,” Namjoon says, his words spilling out in a rush, “I mean, though we are both equally stuck in this, it seems like you’re getting the really shitty end of the stick. I’m so sorry about that.”

You don’t reply to him but simply lean forward, clutching your head in your hands, your food long forgotten in front of you. This just can’t be happening.

“I would really do something to help you if I can,” Namjoon said earnestly, “ Is it not possible for you to continue to study after the marriage? Maybe you can -”

“Please stop,” You say, raising your hand to halt the conversation, your other hand pinching the bridge of your nose, “You and I both know it’s not going to work. If this is what we think it is, the media would be on us all the time, we’d be expected to make our marriage believable not just some sort of an event to cover-up for a situation.”

Namjoon gulps, intimidated into silence. This whole thing seems like a giant mess and you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the information that you were just given. The more you think about it, the messier it seems. You felt as if you were at the bottom of a deep deep well.

“I need to go,” You say, standing up. Namjoon watched you helplessly as you shakily gathered the last of your belongings and threw them inside your sling bag.

“How did you get here? I can drop you off - “

“No, it’s fine,” You say, a ghost of a sob ripping from your throat. If you weren’t crying before, Namjoon was sure you are by now, “I...Just, I just need to be alone right now. I need to think by myself. Thank you for today and I’m sorry.”

And with those words, you turned around and away away from the restaurant, out into the streets. Leaving Namjoon fumbling for himself, who didn’t move from his seat, probably too stunned by the turn in events and partly powerless to hold you back.

Could this have been more of a disaster?

[alj4890]

Love/Jealousy Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with requests: to see them pregnant and more jealousy from Amanda.

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) Taken from And Then I Met You storyline.

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove   @annekebbphotography @gibbles82  @cora-nova @bella-ca   @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @i-bloody-love-drake-walker 

A/N Sorry for the delay on everything. Things keep becoming crazy here and I am behind on chapters. Hopefully will have all back to normal by the end of this weekend. To make up for it, I have another look at these two and Amanda’s jealousy. Pregnancy is not helping her at all with it, LOL.

Masterlist

Journals

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked.

"Of course. It's only a thousand degrees out here. Nothing like sweat and a very noticeable pregnant belly to make a girl feel attractive." Amanda drily replied.

"You look stunning." He tried to place a kiss on her lips but she turned her head away.

"Stunning? As in, I'm stunned she even found a dress to fit in? Stunned at witnessing a human being able to sweat so profusely?" Amanda dabbed a cocktail napkin at her upper lip and forehead. 

"You know I meant beautiful." Thomas tried to reassure her. Her eye roll made him mentally groan. Since the beginning of her third trimester, she had spawned a highly critical view of herself.

"You are only saying that out of familial obligation." She muttered. "We both know I look like a beached whale that somehow managed to swallow another beached whale."

"Not in the least." His eyes swept over her, thinking how lovely she looked in her simple blue sundress with bow tied in the back. Her hair was swept up in a loose bun with tendrils around her face softening the severity. Her complexion practically glowed. "Let's try and find you a chair." He said when he noticed her shifting from one foot to another.

"I'm fine." She murmered. "When I spontaneously combust, I would rather not be sitting on kindling." She motioned toward the wooden Adirondack chairs that had been set out along the grounds.

He chuckled and kissed her temple. "How about something more to drink?"

She handed him her glass. "Yes, please." "Who gives a soiree outside in August?!" She narrowed her eyes at the the duke and duchess responsible. "That's right. Hakim and Joelle would."

He squeezed her hand and went to the bar. On the way back to his wife, Joelle called his name out and beckoned him over.

"Thomas! Look who I finally convinced to come for a visit." She waved her hand to the woman next to her, one he happened to know very well.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Jacquelyn."

The independent filmmaker artfully tossed her curly strawberry blonde hair back. "It's been a long time, Hunt."

"Yes it has." He lifted an eyebrow when she smoothly took one of the glasses he held. Her fingers brushed his and she looked at him beneath her lashes while taking a sip of the fruity punch.

"No alcohol? Since when do you try and remain sober at a party?" She teased.

"That is for my wife. She's eight months pregnant." He explained before turning back to order another drink. "Excuse me, ladies."

"So it's true." Jacquelyn followed him. She leaned against the bar and focused her brandy colored eyes on Thomas. "I had heard you married a few years ago. I didn't believe it then and I have a hard time believing you are beginning a family." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You never liked children."

He frowned at her words. "Meeting the right person changes certain viewpoints."

"I have to meet this miracle worker." She made a dramatic show of scanning the crowd. "Which one is she?"

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why?"

"Curiosity and to congratulate her on her work. She accomplished what many of us failed to do." Jacquelyn teased in a sultry voice. She slid closer to him. "You were the one man I assumed would remain single."

He took a step away. "Like I said before, all that changed after meeting my wife."

"Thomas?"

He turned quickly to Amanda. Her eyes flickered back and forth between him and Jacquelyn. She noticed the way the woman was making sure to brush up against her husband and how long they had been standing there talking. She then saw her drink in the red head's hand and felt as if she had been hit in the chest.

She took a step back and bumped into another guest. She mumbled an apology before turning back to her husband. "Thomas, I think I'm going to go home. I'll send the car back for you." She glared at the two of them and walked away with as much pride as she could.

He caught up with her easily. "Amanda? What is it? Are you ill?"

She could feel her cheeks flush as anger seemed to engulf her much like the August heat. "I am sick to my stomach. It all happened when my husband left me on my own to hit on some woman at the bar."

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't hit on Jacquelyn!"

She stopped and rounded on him. "Really? Then how do you know her name if you weren't hitting on her? You never talk to people at parties unless absolutely forced to."

"I wasn't hitting on her. Jacquelyn and I have known each other for years." He explained. "She followed me to the bar when I went to retrieve another drink for you and we were just talking."

"How well do you know her?" Amanda asked.

Thomas hesitated, unsure if her normal jealousy would be multiplied exponentially by the pregnancy hormones. "We, er, we both attended the same college."

Amanda folded her arms. Her suspicion was now through the roof. "How well?"

"We dated back in college." He said quickly. "And then tried again a few years later."

Amanda's jaw dropped. Why did this name seem so familiar to her? She then remembered where the name had appeared. "Is this the Jacquelyn you considered as the most desirable woman in the world?!"

"What?" Thomas had no idea what she was talking about. He had never mentioned Jacquelyn before to her. "What are you talking about? I never said that."

"Yes you did!" Amanda hissed. "You made certain to write it down!"

"Write it down? Why would--" Thomas stared at her for a few beats of stunned silence. "Amanda, did you read one of my old journals?"

She tossed her head and looked away from him. "I happened to come across it."

"Happened to?" He muttered, his eyes narrowing as his own temper began to snap. "I see. And how did this event happen?"

"I came across it by accident!" She walked around him and continued to the car. Tears filled her eyes at his tone. "I thought it was something else and noticed your handwriting."

"Your accident didn't stop you from continuing to read it." He accused.

Amanda paused at the car. "Are you saying if you came across one of my old diaries, you wouldn't read it?"

"Of course not! Those are your personal thoughts." He retorted.

"Really? If you thought it was something else and opened it to the middle, seeing my handwriting talking about how wonderful a certain man was, you wouldn't read on to see who I was talking about? How attractive. How intelligent. How perfect!"

Thomas shook his head. "I wouldn't read it."

"Well aren't you a saint among us mere mortals." She jerked the car door open. "After all I read, I'm certain you want to remain here and spend time getting reacquainted with her, don't you? She is so attractive."

Thomas refused to rise to the bait and remained silent.

Amanda glared back at the people milling about the party. "I can't believe this." She awkwardly got into the car and tried to shut the door. She let out a frustrated groan at having to ask him for anything. "Will you shut the door for me, please?"

Thomas spoke to the driver and shut her door. He walked around the car and got in beside her.

Amanda's eyes looked on him with disgust. "I don't want you coming home with me!"

"What?" He bit out.

"You're only coming with me because you think you should. You believe it will reflect badly if you remain to be with the one you find so incredibly desirable instead of leaving with your fat, pregnant wife." Her eyes narrowed on him. "I don't want you to come with me."

Hurt by her words, Thomas opened his mouth then lowered the privacy barrier. "Turn around and take me back." He ordered in a harsh tone. He raised the barrier and looked at his wife. "Happy now?"

"How could any of this make me happy?" Amanda nearly yelled. She gripped her stomach as the baby moved about suddenly. Thomas attempted to touch her in concern and she pushed him away. "Don't touch me. Just go be with your perfect woman and leave me alone."

"I am not going to fight with you over this because I believe that your hormones have caused you to lose what sense you once had." His tone was low and serious. "Once you have calmed down, we are having a long talk about a great many issues."

"Well, I can't wait." Amanda's sarcastic retort reveberated in the car. "Please don't hurry home on my account. In fact, feel free to follow Ms. Sensual Filmmaker to her next location."

His dark eyes studied her profile silently. "Amanda? Do you honestly not want me to come home?"

Bitter words were on the tip of her tongue. She finally looked at him and paused. Her shoulders slumped as she covered her face. "No." Tears began to fall from her eyes before the gut wrenching sobs followed. "You should be with her. She's gorgeous and clearly still wants you." She dug around in her purse for tissues as she cried harder. "I wouldn't choose me if it was between me and her."

Thomas told the driver to take them home before trying to comfort her. Amanda stiffened in his arms and she lifted her eyes to his. "If I wasn't pregnant, you wouldn't stay with me."

"I know somewhere in that hormonal infused brain of yours that you know how completely wrong that statement is." He eventually gave up trying to hold her. "Why are you even thinking like that?"

"The journal!" She snapped. "Your journal had more pages written about Jacquelyn and how she was a woman straight out of your fantasies than any I have ever seen before!"

"How many men's journals have you read?" He immediately regretted his question when she sucked in an insulted breath at the insinuation. He cleared his throat and tried to veer the conversation away from his past with another woman. "You never saw my journal from when I met you."

She blew her nose and shook her head. "You don't have a journal for then." She turned away from him in a huff. "Possibly a cocktail napkin about having to drive in the rain to pick me up from the airport. It probably only has the date and time listed. " She squirmed when his arms wrapped around her.

His lips brushed the back of her neck, silencing her for a few blessed moments. "I did keep a journal then." He murmured, placing a kiss behind her ear. He felt her muscles relax with each kiss and he continued talking. "Would you care to read it?"

She stiffened in his arms again. "I thought they were your private thoughts? Thoughts only you are privy to about all the other beautiful women in your life."

He pulled her back against his chest and turned her face toward his. His lips crashed down on hers, drawing a surprised moan from her. He sighed against her lips and met her tear filled eyes. "I think you should read them."

"Them?" Her brow furrowed. "You have more than one journal about me?"

He slowly nodded, letting his lips brush her skin with each movement. "I have two filled with longing for you to be mine. Then one from wanting the marriage to be permanent. Followed by the ones of each year we have been married." He placed a lingering kiss on her lips. "How could I not write about finally finding the love of my life, one who is truly the perfect woman for me?" His lips continued to move over hers as he spoke. "The one who not only met every fantasy I had but surpassed them."

"Thomas." She kissed him again. He could feel her tears fall and gently wiped them. Remorse flooded her expression. "I'm so sorry for letting my jealousy say all those things and for reading your journal. I--" She sniffed and tried to say more, only to be cut off by his kiss.

He softly shushed her and held her close. They sat there silently a few moments when a thought came to him. "When did you come across my old journal?"

Her cheeks flared with color. "About a month after coming to work with you. It was one night when I couldn't sleep and was searching your office for a notebook to write some ideas in."

"Oh." That at least explained why he had not been confronted with this before now. His eyes narrowed some more. "You remembered what I wrote after all these years?"

"Yes." She mumbled. "You have quite a way with descriptions."

"Did you read any others?" He suddenly felt a deep sense of panic as he recalled his relationships at the beginning of his time in Hollywood.

"I only read that one." She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked at him. "Thomas? Should I be worried?"

"No! Not at all." He planned on burning all he had written as soon as he could. He passionately kissed her to avoid more questions. "I was wondering if you had read my first impressions of you."

"You already know I had no idea you had written about me." She started to pull away as her eyes narrowed. "What journals are you worried I might have seen?"

"Er, um, I'm not worried." He pulled her back against him to avoid her penetrating gaze that rarely missed anything. He was thankful he had kept the majority of his journals hidden from plain sight. "I merely want to make certain you don't doubt my love and desire for you and only you."

Amanda pressed a kiss to his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. A mischievous smile curved her lips. "Good to know you will be taking care of all those old journals that line the bottom left hand drawer in your desk."

[tangerinesmoke]

bento

based on this art by iga_guri which was inspired by Nami’s Nissin Cup Noodles commercial

——–

“How do you do, everyone? My name is Nami. Please take care of me for the rest of our senior year!” The orange-haired transfer student cheerfully exclaims as she bows her head in front of the class. Everyone applauds calmly, but there’s one boy who does it differently from the rest.

“Psst, Zoro.” Usopp lightly kicks the chair in front of him.

The mosshead yawns loudly without looking back. “What?”

“Something’s wrong with Sanji.”

“Everything’s wrong about him, what do you mean?”

“Not that! He’s not exuding hearts at the new girl!”

“Who cares? At least he’s not being annoying for a change.” Zoro replies nonchalantly.

Usopp eyes Sanji, whose mouth is slightly opened, but surprisingly behaving well on his seat. “It’s heckin’ weird, man.”

Zoro flicks an eraser at his blonde seatmate’s head. “Oi, are you dead or dead? Choose one.”

Sanji touches his head at the friction but his eyes never leave the transfer student.

Zoro raises an eyebrow at him. “Hmm? It’s not really unusual behavior. Probably just delayed reaction.” Zoro picks up the eraser that bounced not so far from him and proceeds to sleep on his chair.

Sanji, still not minding the hard eraser that his marimo friend threw at him, says “I think I’m in love,” with his mouth gaped open and cheeks blushing.

———

Not long enough, Usopp realizes Zoro was right about the delayed reaction when Sanji finally finds an opportunity to talk to the transfer student right before break time, and has radiated  hearts like there’s no other girl he would do it for an hour later.

“Nami-san, oh Nami-san, your name is so beautiful! As beautiful as your laugh!”

Nami gives him a blank stare, which surprises Sanji. The orange-haired beauty, realizing the awkwardness of the situation, quickly changes the expression on her face and smiles at him with ease.

“Haha, thanks for the compliment! Your name is?”

Sanji fixes his composure. “My name is Sanji. Nice to meet you! Since it’s break time, shall we eat lunch together, Nami-san?”

Nami looks down on her notebook. “Oh, I’m not so hungry.”

“Eh? Come on now, Nami-san. You won’t be saying that once you see my bento.”

“What?”

“I always bring a lot of food that I cooked myself! ” Sanji hurriedly runs to his bag to get his bento and show Nami. “Here, have a look!”

Sanji proudly opens his bento and it was the most beautiful packed lunch that Nami has seen. It includes a little bit of everything: onigiri, tonkatsu, shrimp, veggies, and fruits like strawberries and sliced apples. He even has a small container for seaweed soup. Her stomach suddenly growls loudly.

“See, I told you, Nami-san! So let’s eat?” Sanji’s eyes turn into hearts by now, which makes the transfer student back off a little.

“Um, well. Sure!” Nami opens her bag and on the side of her books is a small plastic containing one piece of melon pan with a bite on it. She quickly hides it from view. Sanji sees it, however, but pretends that he didn’t.

“Um, it seems I forgot my lunch box…” Nami says nervously.

“Ah, then I’ll share my food with you!” Sanji exclaims.

“Really? You’re my savior!” Nami hugs Sanji around his neck, which turns the blonde almost into a puddle of goo on the floor.

Nami eats too heartily with the extra chopsticks he provides her, as though she didn’t eat anything for two days. Sanji smiles, but can’t forget the face while she’s eating and the face she made when she first looked at him.

———

“Perona, let’s go? We’re going to be late for cram classes.” Tashigi pushes her eyeglasses while looking at her friend who’s panicking slightly. 

“Something wrong?”

The richest student of Class 3-B keeps rummaging her huge bag and books. “I can’t see my Givenchy crossbody bag?”

“What? You just bought it two days ago, didn’t you?” Tashigi asks worriedly.

“I know! It’s not like I can’t buy another but…Dad’s still going to get mad.” Perona pouts.

“We need to find it. Ask around these guys and I’ll go back to the girls’ restroom. I’ll check if you left it there earlier?”

“Okay, although I already looked around…” Perona frowns. “Oh hey, Nami!”

Nami freezes in place when she sees Perona approaching her. “Sorry to bother, but did you see any silver crossbody bag around here?” The pink-haired elite student asks.

“I didn’t, sorry. Excuse me, Perona, but I’m running late for my part-time job. Bye! I hope you find your bag…” Nami runs toward the classroom door.

Sanji wonders why Nami took the expensive bag.

———

The next day, Perona’s missing Givenchy crossbag becomes the talk of town, until she sports a Fendi handbag when she comes to class, saying “I just dusted it off from the closet!” She doesn’t seem to mind the loss, but Sanji, as a ladies’ man, likes to think otherwise.

Sanji insists sharing his food with Nami again at lunch time even though she says she’s on a diet. She had the same gusto in eating the food he made, but he wonders if her not having lunch is just an excuse now.

After class dismissal, Nami leaves again in a rush. Sanji tries to go after her but Luffy and Usopp start playing around like kindergartners.

“Can you guys-” Sanji, in an attempt to see where Nami is going, shoves the two boys having a friendly brawl in front of him.

“Ouch, that hurt, Sanji!” Usopp exclaims.

“Can you guys flirt somewhere else? You’re blocking my way!”

“Eugh.” Usopp fakes throwing up, and Luffy snatches his waffles while he’s distracted.

“Hahaha! You lost, Usopp!” Luffy runs outside the classroom and in the hallways.

“Dammit, Luffy! At least share with me the waffles I bought from my own allowance!” Usopp chases Luffy while Sanji shakes his head in disbelief.

“Huh, wait? I lost Nami-san.” Sanji runs in full speed to the hallways and thankfully, he easily spots vivid orange hair as the girl turns around the corner. Sanji keeps a considerable distance and silently follows her to the school grounds.

———

Sanji finds out that Nami is working in “Arlong Park Cafe,” one of the biggest restaurant & cafe chains in their district. He hides himself behind the huge menu board and tall potted plants beside the store’s door. He sees Nami through the window getting scolded by one of the managers for being late. She apologizes profusely and goes to the back door, then comes back immediately in view, all dressed up for work.

Before she clears one of the tables, Sanji is shocked to see her sneaking to eat the leftovers on the plate. 

Sanji has decided that he would wait for Nami after work.  He pulls a lollipop from his pocket and starts eating it.

She doesn’t come out of the cafe until four hours later.

“Sanji-kun.”

The blonde is taken aback to see Nami standing by his side while he is seated on the ground of a nearby alley.

“I know you’ve followed me all the way here. I saw you on the subway and through the window at work.” Nami says with that same blank stare she gave him a day before.

“Well…Let me expla-”

“You saw me eating the leftovers, didn’t you?” 

“I did, but…”

Nami tightens the hold on her bag. “I know you’re disgusted by it.”

“No, Nami-san!” Sanji flails. “You’re not one bit disgusting.”

“It’s okay to be, just don’t tell everyone about it in school. Why did you follow me?”

“I promise you, I won’t. Cross my heart.” He gestures a heart with his hands and smiles nervously. “I am actually here to ask you about something.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Perona’s bag.”

The orange-haired beauty’s demeanor suddenly changes. “You knew?”

“I saw you taking it when you thought no one else was looking.” Sanji says, putting his hands in his pocket.

“Just so you know,I’m not going to give it back to her. But don’t tell anyone about it in school. I will share you half of my earnings when I sell it, if that will shut you up.” Nami’s eyebrows crease.

“It’s not really about that.” Sanji asks.

“Yes and keep it that way.”

“I care about you, Nami-san.”

“I need money to pay for my rent, not your care.” Nami starts walking away from Sanji. But the boy is quick to pull himself up and catch Nami by the arm.

“Anyone who eats my food with a smile on their face automatically gets that, you’re no exception.” At this, Nami stops walking.

“I don’t know what problems you’re dealing with, but I’m ready to help.”

Nami touches the hem of her skirt. “No one can help me but myself.”

“Just remember you’re not alone. See you tomorrow, Nami-san.” Sanji walks by her and waves coolly from behind, with the lollipop between his fingers.

———

Nami walks to school the next morning, and as she approaches the entrance. he sees a familiar figure leaning on the wall from afar.

“Sanji-kun.”

“Been waiting for you, Nami-san! Here’s your bento.” Sanji extends his arms to hand Nami the lunch box he prepared.

“What? For me?”

“Yep!” Sanji says excitedly. “Open it!”

Nami opens the bento hesitatingly, but when she sees omurice, sausage, sliced potatoes, and tangerines, she is almost drooling.

“Why, Sanji-kun?”

“It’s nice to see you eat the food I made.” Sanji’s heart eyes start appearing.

At this, Nami wholeheartedly laughs. “That’s…nice, I guess. Thank you, Sanji-kun!”

“And I also brought some money.”

“Money? For what?”

“I’ll buy Perona’s bag.” He replies indifferently.

Nami’s eyes bulge.“What?!”

“I can’t let a beauty like Perona stress over a Givenchy!”  Sanji’s tears flow uncontrollably.

“Don’t go making me feel guilty now… You can’t possibly pay for it, can you?” The orange-haired girl eyes him suspiciously.

“I can’t, but I’m not alone on that.”

Before Nami could ask, a bunch of boisterous voices echo all over the school grounds.

“Oiiiii Sanji!” Luffy comes running to shake Sanji. “And uh what’s her name again?”

“Her name is Nami!” Usopp says as he fixes his backpack.

“Oh, Mami! Hey!” Luffy flashes his teeth at Nami with all smiles.

“I said it’s Nami, idiot!”

“Hey, loser. How’s your head? Why are you still alive?” Zoro says, in his coolest and most collected manner, to piss Sanji off.

“Shut up, mosshead. You think I don’t know what you did the other day?”

“So what, you think you’re smart now?”

“Can’t we just go to class normally and stop this bickering?” Already exasperated, Usopp goes ahead of them toward the building.

“Luffy, what the heck! Stop shaking me!” Sanji’s face is almost blue.

“Hahaha!” Luffy chases Usopp toward the building entrance, followed by Zoro.

Nami just watches the scene unfold in front of her and can’t help but feel delighted with her cheerful classmates.

“Those guys are gonna help you out as well. As I’ve said, you’re not alone, Nami-san.”

“Why are you doing this, Sanji-kun?”

“Because I looooveeee Nami-san! Do you love me too now, Nami-san?” Sanji starts the noodle dance around Nami.

“Sure, sure.” She answers halfheartedly, but maybe with a little truth in it.

—-

end

[dbhilluminate]

DBHI: Equilibrium, ch. 13 - “Periapsis” (pt. 1)

Characters: Noah / “Erwin Yvonne”, Gabriel / “Vincent Sharp”, Special Agent Gavin Reed, Director Thomas Falken Word Count: 2,842

Noah crashes an undercover FBI operation to say hello to a friend he hasn't seen or spoken to in a couple of months, but the mood is spoiled when the Zionist Inquisition shows up to deliver an ultimatum to Vincent Sharp, and issue a threat to anyone who would dare support the installation of an android suburb in Washington, DC.

***For a glossary of world-building terms relating to this series and chapter, click here.

(Chapter Art by ozaya, Co-authored by @grayorca15​)

• Chapter Index • Characters • Glossary •

——

December 23rd, 2041 - 9:45 PM

From the outside, the looming auditorium locally known as The Mellon was unchanged. Whatever techno-aesthetics the Capitol had adopted in the last two decades, Washington, DC’s architecture was still mostly the same neoclassical Roman-inspired drivel the Founding Fathers probably thought the height of grandeur that any respectable city could model itself after. This particular building was very much a product of its time- a perfect encapsulation of the stiff right angles, thick brooding columns, and bleak texture-less walls, suggested nothing of what might actually be happening beyond the foyer. The red-green cutout projections of trees and reindeer and ornaments dancing across the Columbia pediment sculpted across its tented promenade and the delicate string instruments currently honoring an orchestral cover of one of a hundred classic Christmas songs was a hint though.

Noah stepped out of the Jaguar to be accosted by a shower of holographic white and blue snowflakes, mixed with the real-life equivalent wafting about that cold winter’s night. They swarmed like his very own plague of too-friendly gnats. Whatever property-wide projection program the event had been accentuated with, the programmer had evidently spent too much time re-watching Frozen as a child. He pulled his sunglasses down just far enough to peer over the lenses as a few flakes fluttered in, close enough for him to see their individual fractals, and gave an irritated huff through his nose. “Still bitter over the demise of Disney, I see.” A few seconds later, the shy valet swept around the roadster’s red taillights and apologized profusely for a near-nonexistent delay in offering to take the car to be parked. Noah felt nothing but amusement at their blathering, patted him on the shoulder and held the door open. “Quit fussing. It’s early yet, and you’ve a lot more rides to tuck in before the night’s over. Treat this one like the queen she is and there’ll be an extra fifty in it for you… Fredrick.”

The kitschy light-show and dear hapless Fred weren’t as bothersome as the front ranks of guards posted at the velvet rope-fenced entrance. The nearest man put up a hand and stopped him in his tracks at the top of the stairs. “I’m sorry, sir, but this is a charity function for contributors only. Have you made a donation?” It seemed only pre-approved guests were being permitted inside- a slight oversight on his part, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from his goal. He had a conversation to close out.

Noah popped his brows and donned a charming smile as he presented the falsified credentials, nestled in a flip-fold ID bearing the name Erwin L. Yvonne, complete with the most abhorrent manipulation of his likeness ever produced. “Not to worry, gents. I’m intimately acquainted with the curator, Mr. Sharp, and I’m here to deliver my contribution in the flesh.” Everything about the little white lie he’d spun on a whim was unnatural to him, but convincing to the two confused humans -poor, overworked and underpaid minions as they probably were- relaying questions into their headsets. After a few moments of conferring with whoever was heading security (most likely the Special Agents in charge of the sting this event was a front for), they motioned him through for a pat-down just beyond the rope. Noah didn’t bother feeling offended at them for only doing as they were instructed, but he did have a little fun making them as uncomfortable as possible as they searched his person for weapons. If his disguise, an old favorite thrown together on such short notice, held up to that much, then the rest would be a cakewalk- not that he had ever harbored a desire to actually go skipping through a fully-stocked dessert table. As fun as it sounded, he had enough messes splashed all over his real name without adding another to the list.

To his relief, the reach of the holographic snowflakes stopped at the door and vanished as he crossed the threshold of the foyer. The marble floor of the lobby had been buffed and waxed to a soft shine, and was still holding up to the foot traffic four hours after the meet’s commencement. Noah only paid enough mind to the guests still loitering about in groups no larger than six people to disinterestedly scan their faces at a glance and assign his background processes the menial task of matching names and dossiers to them. At the moment, he was far too focused on finding the one disguised face among them who was of any real importance to care about much else.

Mr. Vincent Sharp. Or should he say, Gabriel Reed.

The main hall was a wide, cavernous space, with rows of columns standing off to either side. Gold leaf sconced wall lamps provided an accentuating glow compared to the three giant chandeliers of brass and aluminum that bathed the room in ambient light. The dazzling light-show playing outdoors was only outdone by the splendor of one thirty-foot tall balsam fir erected in the center of the floor, adorned with no less than one hundred feet of multicolored string lights, dozens of strands of tinsel, swaths of garland, and a few hundred bauble ornaments. The topper, a white tinsel angel with glittery wings, faced the entrance with its hands pressed together and head bowed as if to thank all who arrived. A few outlying rings of cocktail tables surrounded the roped-off centerpiece. Those guests who weren’t conversing had taken seats to sip champagne or nibble on appetizers while they caught up on their gossip. Each cloth-covered table possessed its own small topper of a larger holographic projection of snowflakes hanging stationary in midair, which constantly shifted from one pattern to the next, spinning like a globe on a stand whenever a curious hand reached out to ‘tap’ them.

A small stage nestled in an alcove against the back of the ballroom hosted a classical band (ruled by one full-size concert piano) who looked as superfluous as the snowflakes that had greeted him outside. They wound through the last chorus of Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire as he descended the staircase, before starting back up with Jingle Bell Rock. Between the cello and violins, Noah’s hypersensitive ear detected at least three strings in need of tightening before he shunted that note aside to take a backseat with the rest of his anxieties. He hadn’t spent two hours biting his knuckles over ever approaching the Andrew W. Mellon Auditorium just to show up and critique its acoustic entertainment.

It wasn’t until a few curious eyes had turned his way, nodded and bid him good evening, that Noah realized how entirely inappropriate it was to be wearing sunglasses indoors, much less an event so high-class. The rest of his ensemble was tame enough- a dark navy blue suit bearing pointed lapels and a Zion sigil pin, complimented by a black dress shirt and loafers. The mild dose of glitter effect (same as could be found on the snow outside) projected into his black hair, accented with blue highlights, wasn’t as much of an affront as the pair of Ray Bans. Before anyone could make much of a fuss about it, he pulled them off and stashed the specs in his jacket’s breast pocket; in this kind of crowd, acting appropriate was of the utmost priority. Except when it wasn’t. Off to the left was a fully stocked pop-up bar- heads of the handful of people standing near it were turned away, giving off all manner of unapproachable vibes, including the only familiar silhouette in the room. Noah fought back a smirk when he spotted one particular set of ears before the facial recognition software even kicked in. As much as he would have loved to surprise him with his presence, he knew better than to sneak up on the owner of said ears. The last time he’d done so, Noah had wound up laid out over the fragments of his former coffee table, and he wasn’t eager to experience the cocktail hour equivalent of that encounter.

A half-hearted sweep of the room offered a few other suggestions of anything amiss, and that conclusion was about as dull as dishwater. Noah wasn’t really feeling making a scene with another guest (this event was far too classy for such delinquency), nor was he feeling at all confident enough to steal the mic off its stand and serenade the entire room. But that Christmas tree… it was giving off far too many signals to only be rigged with illumination accents. On his optical spectrum, a cloud of static encircled the poor displaced flora from top to bottom, a few of which were emitting from little lens-capped nodes disguised as burnt-out bulbs along the string. He drifted over casually and leaned in as if to admire his reflection in one of the gold metallic baubles, then carefully reached past the rope to twist and unplug one of the planted camera bulbs like plucking a petal off a flower. The fir gave only a whisper-quiet tink at this attack. The light strand continued to blink and cycle away, regardless of the missing piece. Noah held it up to eye level with a triumphant, yet mischievous grin. He knew exactly who was on the other side of the monitor observing the footage.

And having the most important discussion of the holiday season. On the other end of the feed, tucked away in the off-limits green rooms of the hall, Special Agent Reed was too busy engaging in one of his favorite pastimes of discussing classic action flicks with the unbaptized to notice that one of their cameras was moving. “I’m tellin’ you, man, Die Hard is THE Christmas movie, and if you don’t agree you’re just wrong .” “No way,” a second agent argued, “Bruce Willis himself denied that shit more than twenty years ago…” Reed let out a laugh that bordered on mocking, shook his head, and gestured to the man with one scolding finger lifted off his coffee cup. “John McClane would disagree-“ “Hey! Dumbasses! Stay focused!” Director Thomas Falken -who had insisted on overseeing the sting himself, in the event that something went horribly wrong - barked at the yapping men with a threatening leer that snapped Gavin’s head around and back into focus. On the feed of one of the bulb-cameras, an unrecognizable man rolled the glass node between his fingertips like a gem, and smirked as he held it up to the light. Reed’s brow furrowed in distress as he mumbled “What the fuck…?”, then swiped the walkie off the counter to relay the information. “Gabe.” “What is it, Reed?”

All done up in the swankest cocktail suit anyone would ever see him in, ‘Vincent Sharp’ turned, then leaned with his back against the bar and nursed a drink as he scanned the room through half-framed, squared-off, horn-rimmed glasses. One idle hand reached to throw back the hem of the tweed charcoal gray blazer, exposed the light brown waistcoat hugging his waist and hips, and slipped into the pocket of a pair of perfectly tailored, black slim-legged slacks. “We may have trouble, one of our spycams has been compromised.” Gabe tipped back his head and emptied the glass in his hand to smother the outward reaction of surprise, then set it down on the counter and gestured to the bartender for another. Rather than reach for any of the bottles displayed on the back counter, she went for a decanter on the shelf below the bar and refilled the glass with a burgundy brown liquid- thirium, distilled and dyed to mimic the appearance of Scotch. "Just one?” he asked in a curious tone as he searched the crowd around the tree. From his vantage point, he couldn’t clearly see anyone acting suspiciously. “Yeah, it’s the weirdest thing… little shit’s just holdin’ it up and grinnin’ like he knows we’re here…” And that he did. The harsh whisper to emanate over the commandeered camera’s mic said as much:

Good evening, Special Agent Reed. Fancy seeing you here.

From the other side of the room, Gabriel’s head turned a tic at the sound of crashing equipment and a few muttered ‘shit Shit, SHIT’s coming from the other end of the frequency he was currently tuned to. Like a bull in a china shop.

“How does he know you’re here… !?” Falken -known in his social circles as Tomahawk, for good reason- boomed from across the room as he rose from the couch and stormed over to the monitors. He shoved Reed’s chair aside, and scrutinized the face of the man making a mockery of their carefully planted monitoring equipment. Gavin’s heels scraped against the hardwood as he backpedaled and held his hands up in surrender. “I- I- I don’t… I don’t know, I didn’t tell anyone, I swear-” “Then who is THAT?” Falken punctuated with a slam of his palm against the monitor that made everyone in the room jump. “That’s… that’s, uh-...” He could explain that, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. No matter how he looked at it, he was to blame for his presence that evening. His negligence had compromised months of careful planning.

“...Gavin?” His target rose from a table toward the front of the ballroom and directed his attention toward the bar, leering with the clear intent of starting a conversation. What impeccably bad timing for this to go down. “Reed! Talk to me!”

Gabriel’s intrusion provided him with the convenient excuse he needed to disengage for a moment. One visibly-shaking hand swiped the walkie off the desk and Gavin turned to break away from the glower of Falken’s death-glare long enough to respond to his partner in the field. The other hand ran through his hair with a nervous twitch in his fingers and he glanced over his shoulder as he cleared his throat and swallowed, then mumbled, “It’s-... it’s Noah,” under his breath just loud enough for him to hear.

Gabe’s thought processes came to a screeching halt as his personal life collided with his alias for just a moment. To hear that Noah was in Washington, DC, much less at the Zion Founders Fundraiser, was the last thing he’d expected to hear that evening. As Reed continued to drop curses in the background, Gabe turned to face the bar and flashed a polite, but forced smile at the bartender as she eyed him with nervous sweeps. He didn’t reach for the glass right away as it was set in front of him on a small black napkin. “Please, tell me I didn’t just hear what I think I did…” he muttered internally as a dozen different possibilities for how the night would turn out flashed thumb-nailed pre-constructions across his HUD. But Reed’s uncomfortable sputtering confirmed what he was hoping was just a joke.

“No, you heard me right.” One hand swiped over his face in a downward motion and scratched in frustration at the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave in almost a week and desperately avoided Falken’s infuriated ‘what the fuck’ gestures in the background. “The bastard’s actually here, arrived in DC last night with Hannah and President-Elect Kamski. H-he stopped by the house lookin’ for you, but I told him you were undercover an’couldn’t make an appointment. I told him t’keep his nose outta our shit, but he-” Reed paused and squinted over Falken’s shoulder as Noah slipped the tiny camera into his pocket with a ‘Can you hear me alright in there?’ “Oh, son of a….” “What the hell is he doing…?”

The camera-bulb didn’t act as a walkie. And to their credit, all the personnel Noah could plainly see -now that his recognition software had sorted fact from fiction- didn’t stir, much less blow their cover. He knew without being told what this sting was about, and who it was the FBI were really here to keep tabs on. Perhaps him showing up was akin to being a ‘fly in the ointment’, but as yet he hadn’t done anything other than offend their Christmas tree. He gave the indifferent lens one more wordless glance as he rolled the bulb between his fingers. For a brief moment he considered winking at it, but decided at the last moment to pocket the device instead. Perhaps it’d come in handy elsewhere- for someone who hadn’t been properly equipped for this operation, it was the best he could do on such short notice. Failing that, he could always speak very loudly and deliberately at Gabriel’s collar mic, if he’d let him get close enough. The owner of the ear he recognized from before still hadn’t turned around. Outwardly he didn’t look very distressed. Only the new hunch in his shoulders, invisible to the human eye as it was, said it all. Far be it from him to keep ‘Vincent’ in suspense.

[theodoredimas]

You Can’t Have My Heart - 5/?

A/N: I've had a few people mention in passing about how old everyone is. In this story Mon-El is 28, Kara and Ashe are 23, and the newest character in this chapter is 22.

I am so sorry for taking so long with this. Please forgive me.

AO3

Kara watched as the large Daxamite ship landed gracefully, her heart quickening as she watched the doors slide open. Mon-El came to stand just behind her as Kel Gand exited the aircraft with his wife Klysa. Zor-El, along with Alura, moved forward to greet the royal family. Kara clasped her hands in front of her as she watched her father shake Kel’s hand, both smiling cordially at each other. She tried to only focus on the King and his wife, putting off the inevitable. She knew that at any moment she would have to lay her eyes on her future husband. Kara nearly jumped out of her skin when Mon-El whispered to her, “Relax.”

Kara shot him a look before unclasping her hands. Taking in another deep breath, she finally looked behind Kel Gand. Ashe was a handsome man, his blonde hair matching his father’s. He was also just as tall as the King. As they drew closer, Kara noticed that a young woman was walking alongside Ashe. Leaning back just the slightest bit, Kara asked Mon-El, “Who is that next to the Prince?”

Mon-El shook his head slightly at the knowledge of how little Kryptonians truly knew of his planet. “That would be Her Royal Highness, Princess Bree Gand.”

Kara’s eyes widened briefly before looking at Mon-El. How had she not known that? Were her tutors that lax in their knowledge of Daxam? “Princess? He has a sister?” Mon-El wasn’t able to answer though as a throat cleared from before Kara. Looking back, Kara saw that her father stood with Kel in front of her. Kara blushed profusely as she curtsied to her guests. When she looked back up, Kel was smiling fondly at her.

His blue-grey eyes danced with mirth as he gently took her hands and spoke to her for the first time. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, my dear.”

Something about the King put Kara at ease. Perhaps it was what Mon-El had already told her about him. Whatever the cause, Kara smiled without force at the King. “Likewise. I look forward to being able to get to know each other. Although, Mon-El has already told me much about you.”

Kel smiled widely as he teased, “All good, I hope.”

“Of course.” Laughing, Kara looked back toward where Mon-El stood behind her. However, she didn’t see him. Her brow furrowed as her gaze moved downward and saw him on bended knee, his head bowed and his right arm raised slightly to be on the same level as his head. She was not accustomed to such formalities of genuflection. It starkly reminded her of Mon-El’s position in their worlds. He was a servant to the royal family and nothing more. Looking back toward Kel, Kara assured him, “He has spoken very highly of you.”

Smiling, he squeezed her hands momentarily before letting them go to make introductions. “This is my wife, Queen Klysa Gand.” Kara bowed her head with the smallest of curtsies as Kel went on, “And our daughter, Princess Bree Gand.” Kara smiled warmly as Bree curtsied deeply at her. “And our son, Ashe Gand, your future husband.”

Kara swallowed as Ashe stepped toward her. She knew what was to happen next, however she was still not prepared for it. Offering him her hand, Kara felt his lips gently kiss it as he bowed from the waist. She returned the gesture as she curtsied to him. They both rose at the same time, Kara’s hand slowly dropping to her side, their eyes meeting each other. She was shocked to see that they looked exactly like Mon-El’s eyes, their coloring the same as well as the warmth that lay behind them. They both looked away from each other at Zor-El’s voice. “Come, let us go inside to talk more about the days that lay ahead for us.”

Kel and Klysa followed Kara’s parents inside their palace, leaving their children to follow. Ashe motioned for Kara to go before him as well as his sister. Kara smiled at him before walking alongside Bree into her home. Kara tried to keep pace with her parents, however soon realized that both Bree and Ashe had slowed their pace considerably. Looking back toward them she stopped before looking back toward her parents as they turned a corner that led toward the great hall.

Kara turned back toward the prince and princess, about to ask why they were delaying, when Bree looked behind Kara momentarily before smiling widely. She then threw herself at Mon-El, hugging him tightly. Shocked, Kara felt a cold chill run down her spine as something filled deep in the pit of her stomach as Bree clung to Mon-El. She felt like an intruder as she watched their reunion.

Mon-El hugged Bree tightly as she told him, “Oh, I’ve missed you, Mon. The palace just isn’t the same without you.”

Laughing, Mon-El pulled her back just the slightest bit. “That’s only because now you have no one to indulge you to go on your journeys. Ashe and I are always to lenient with that.”

Bree smiled widely at Mon-El before looking at Ashe. “Don’t even try to deny that I’m the one that makes both your lives so full of fun and adventure.” She looked back at Mon-El before kissing him just next to the side of his mouth and hugging him again.

Ashe clasped Mon-El’s shoulder as he told him, “She is right though. It is definitely not the same with you gone.”

Mon-El let Bree down, but she looped her arm through his as she told him with an eye roll. “Uncle Jaarc is the worst. He doesn’t let me do anything.”

Mon-El raised an eyebrow, laughter dancing in his eyes as he said, “And by you, I’m assuming you mean that he doesn’t allow Ashe to go off with you.”

Bree sighed dramatically. “It’s absolutely dreadful. Jaarc won’t even let him go out with me to the forest! And you know how Dranax is, never one to indulge me. He only allowed me to go off with Ashe because he knew you were with us.”

Mon-El had missed his sister and felt like teasing her. So he put on a hurt look as he said, “Ah, so you only miss me because you can’t go on those adventures anymore.”

Her eyes widened briefly as she shook her head. Looking at Mon-El, Bree said, “No! You know how much I love you. It’s just an added bonus that we get to go on said adventures together.” When she saw how he was holding back his laughter, she slapped him on his arm in indignation. “I hate you sometimes.”

Laughing, Mon-El wrapped his arm around her shoulders as Ashe chuckled in the background. Kissing her forehead, Mon-El said, “You love me.”

Mad at him now, Bree shoved him away as she started to walk toward Kara. “No, I don’t.” She looped her arm with Kara’s as she looked back at Mon-El and Ashe. Speaking to Kara as she looked at the two men, Bree said, “Kara, let me tell you all the terrible things that I can think of of these two horrid men.”

Stunned in shock at what she just witnessed and the openness that lay between the three Daxamites, Kara was led silently away from Mon-El and Ashe.

Mon-El watched as Bree led Kara away, having no doubt about it that she would talk Kara’s ear off. Shaking his head as he chuckled, he looked at his younger brother. He could see that something was weighing heavily on the young man’s mind. He could also take a good guess at what it was. Mon-El asked softly, “How did she take the news?”

Ashe swallowed thickly as he watched the two young women stop at the end of the hall, well out of earshot. “Not well.” Shaking his head, he turned to Mon-El. “I knew it was always a possibility. We both did. I just…I had hoped father would see the need to change this custom after everything that happened with…”

Mon-El nodded, “Right.”

Sighing, Ashe rubbed the back of his neck. “Sameen hasn’t spoken to me since it was formally announced. I told her we had a whole year, that we should use it to cherish our last days together. But she said she couldn’t bear it. She doesn’t hold it against me though. She knows this is my duty and it will end this war. It is the right thing to do.”

Mon-El gently squeezed Ashe’s shoulder, “But you miss her.”

Nodding, Ashe spoke softly, “Yes, deeply.”

Mon-El hated to see his brother be in any form of pain. He had been worried when Ashe had first met his love, having known from firsthand experience what such an affair could lead too. However, over the years, he had seen their love blossom. He had also seen the changes his father had enacted and had heard of the changes that his father still wished to enact. The marriage arrangement being among them. So, he too had hoped for his brother. There might still be hope yet though. “Have you told father?”

Shaking his head, Ashe told him, “No, there’s no point. This will end a war, my feelings are not more important than the lives of thousands, if not millions.”

Mon-El spoke softly, “There still could be another way to end the war. If father knew how you truly felt, he may just look into finding it.”

Ashe smiled sadly at him. “Trust me, I’ve tried to find another way. There is none. This marriage alliance is our only hope.” Looking toward the two women ahead of them, he saw Bree look at him, asking silently if they were ready to head toward their respective families. She had known that he had needed to talk with their brother, knowing just how close the two brothers were, and that Mon-El was the only one Ashe could talk to about this subject. Smiling at her, Ashe took in a deep breath and told Mon-El, “I think we should go save the princess from our sister.”

Bree looked back to Kara as she finished telling her the story of how Ashe broke his arm in an attempt to tame a wild baby dragon. Laughing, she said, “It was quite the sight to see, little seven year old Ashe holding his arm as ten guards came rushing out to see why their prince was crying oh so loudly. I think they feared we had been laid upon by some horrid Kryp…well, never mind the reasoning. It is truly one of my fondest memories.” She smiled brightly as her brother heard the tail end of her conversation, shaking his head at her.

Stepping up to the two women, Ashe said, “I beg you to forgive my sister, Princess Kara. She has yet to be tutored in the form of holding a proper conversation or even proper etiquette.”

Kara smiled slightly, as Bree waved her hand in a dismissive manner. “Oh, I’ve been tutored just fine. I just choose to ignore it.” Looking at Kara, she leaned in and spoke conspiratorially, “It is rather tiresome having to be a proper lady at all times, wouldn’t you agree? A girl has a right to get down and dirty, just like the lesser sex.” She then shot a look at Ashe and Mon-El.

Kara’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. She failed though when Mon-El himself started to laugh. She looked at him as he looked at Bree, seeing fondness fill his eyes. She hadn’t ever seen him this light and free. She was pleased to see just how wrong her views were of the House of Gand. Her worries were slowly easing away with each passing second. Though they had just met, Kara already knew that Bree would become a good friend. Even Ashe seemed to be a kind man, just as Mon-El had said.

Bree laughed as well, smiling brightly. “I knew we were kindred spirits, Princess Kara.”

Containing her laughter once again, Kara smiled at Bree. “Please, both of you can call me Kara and I truly think we are, as well.”

Bree smiled even more brightly at Kara. Looping her arm through Kara’s again, she said, “Please tell me your guard is even more lenient than Mon-El.”

Kara smiled knowingly at Mon-El, who only shook his head. “I actually don’t have an official guard. Mon-El is the first one I’ve had in quite sometime. Although my aunt has assigned a few others since the announcement was made.’

Bree’s eyes widened comically at Kara’s confession. “How did you get away with that? Please tell me.” She closed her eyes as she imagined. “To have no guard would be a dream come true.”

Ashe shook his head as he told her matter-of-factly, “Out of all of us, you are the one that needs a guard the most, Bree. You get into more situations than I ever thought possible.”

Sticking her tongue out at her brother, Bree turned to Kara. “Ignore his lies. He enjoys our adventures just as much as I do.” She gasped as an idea came to her. “Does that mean Mon-El is the one that has been looking after you?” At Kara’s nod, Bree squealed in joy. “Oh, this is wondrous news. This means that we can go exploring! I’ve read up on Krypton since the news of the marriage and our journey here was announced. Is it true that you have a place called Glass Forest? Is it really made of glass? Oh, what about the Scarlet Jungle? Is it truly all scarlet? Is there actually a mountain made of jewels here?”

Kara nodded her head as she said, “Yes, those are places on Krypton.” When she saw how excited Bree got at her words, she offered, “I can take you to them later on. If you’d like.”

“Like? I’d love too! Oh, the adventures we’ll have here.” Turning to Mon-El, Bree told him. “I could just kiss you right now. With you guarding Kara, Jaarc won’t be able to say no to us journeying this planet.”

Mon-El was just about to ask where Jaarc was, when Zor-El’s voice called down from the hall, “Kara?”

Kara turned toward her father, seeing him beckoning them down toward the great hall. Bree huffed softly, “Duty calls, but we must discuss this more later.”

Smiling, Kara nodded, “Of course.”

Zor-El smiled at his daughter, happy to see that she appeared to be having a good time. As they drew closer, he told them, “We were wondering where you four had gone off too.”

Bree bowed her head as she said, “It was my fault your Majesty.”

Zor-El smiled at Bree. “It’s alright dear, I’m pleased to see you three getting to know each other. We will, after all, be family shortly.” Motioning for them to follow, Zor-El walked into the great hall.

Bree leaned in and whispered to Kara, “Your father reminds me a great deal of my father.”

Kara smiled at her as she heard her mother say, “I think that is a wonderful idea Kel. Intertwine the best of both cultures in one celebration. I know that your…galas are far grander than the ones we have, is there anything that you wish to include?”

Klysa narrowed her eyes briefly, before saying, “It would be of the utmost importance that the Troth Dance be performed. It is a tradition that goes back centuries.” Looking at Kara, something akin to mockery shining in her eyes, Klysa asked her, “You do know the dance, don’t you dear?”

Bree startled a little at the question as Kara stood just a little straighter and lied through her teeth. “Of course. It won’t be a problem at all.”

She could feel Bree looking at her as she maintained eye contact with Klysa. The Queen smiled tightly at her as she said, “Excellent. Then it’s set. Tomorrow at the celebration, you two will officially be betrothed before the kingdoms and gods, signifying the union that will shortly take place.”

Kara felt a wave a panic set in at her words. She didn’t hear the rest of the conversation that took place. All she could focus on was that tomorrow her engagement would be acknowledged before their gods. Rao, she was not prepared for that. She didn’t even know the dance that would show this union. She hoped that Kelex would be able to assist her in her search for the dance.

She couldn’t ask Mon-El. Not after seeing him with Bree. They obviously had a very deep bond, one she could see they were hiding from the King and Queen. She knew her attraction to him was pointless, she was after all to be wed to Ashe. She had thought, though, that he too felt the same pull. It was foolish of her. They had known each other for just a mere week. Even with all their deep conversations and debates, she didn’t truly know Mon-El. Not personally. She didn’t know his background or anything of real import. The only thing she truly knew of him was that he loved his King dearly, he had a brother that he only spoke of that one time and that he had been a guard for most of his life. Everything else was really of just the Daxam culture and what he knew of the House of Gand. She hadn’t asked if he had someone waiting for him back home. If someone was missing him. She would need to distance herself however she could from her growing attraction to him, now that she knew he did have someone. However secret it was.

Kara was thankful when she heard her mother say she would show their guests to their rooms so they could get settled in. Excusing herself quietly, she slid out of Bree’s grasp and moved quickly out of the room. Forgetting completely of her ever present shadow, Kara broke into a run as she moved toward her room. She flung her door open before rushing toward her balcony. She just needed some fresh air and a moment to herself without eyes on her. Without anyone expecting anything from her. Laying her hands on the stone balustrade, she leaned into it as she slowly took in a few deep breaths.

She felt her mind start to clear when Mon-El’s voice carried through her room, “Why did you lie back there?”

Turning around, she saw that he stood at the threshold of her room, waiting for her to invite him in. Crossing her arms over her chest, she told him, “I didn’t lie about anything.”

Leaning against the frame, Mon-El said, “Yes you did.”

Holding her head up high, Kara asked, “And how would you possibly know that?”

Smirking, Mon-El told her, “Because only members of the House of Gand know the Troth Dance and you are not a member of the House. At least, not yet.”

Kara’s jaw dropped at that. That could only mean one thing. “Why would the Queen ask me that then?”

Shrugging, Mon-El said, “She could have many reasons. My guess is that she wanted to make a fool of you. I don’t think she was expecting you to lie.”

Left speechless for a few moments, Kara struggled to find the right words to express how she felt. “That’s so…cruel of her.”

Nodding his agreement, Mon-El pushed off the doorframe. “Don’t worry though, I can teach it to you.”

Kara’s eyes widened at his offer. “No, that’s alright. I’ll manage another way.”

Mon-El furrowed his brows at her. “Why? If I can teach you, no one else will have to know you lied.”

Shaking her head, Kara insisted, “Really, it’s fine.” Clearing her throat, she felt a blush tint her cheeks as she told him, “I don’t think it would be appropriate, especially with Bree here. I’m sure Kelex will be able to help me.”

Mon-El was even more confused at Kara’s reason. “What has Bree got to do with me teaching you the dance?”

Kara was about to answer, expounding on how she saw their secret bond, when Bree popped into view, as if just mentioning her name summoned her. Smiling at Mon-El and Kara, she said, “Who’s ready to learn the Troth Dance?”