#and ideally i do that on the side while i teach (probably middle or high school but leaning towards middle school)

[cloudshapedpatch]

it has come time for me to actually decide what subject i want to specialize in as a teacher and i'm so scared i'm gonna make the wrong choice and waste four years and an assload of money choosing the wrong one

[princekoo]

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x reader

Genre: smut

Trope: city girl x farm boy

Warnings: bondage, name calling, bad writing

Word count: ~4.4k

A/N: yeah I have no words this came to me randomly while I was listening to country (something I never do) so here’s my first smut piece lol I haven’t written anything in MONTHS, so here is my baby I wrote in like 2 hours (also something I’ve never done before)💀 this is badly written bc it’s 2:30am and I cannot be bothered to proofread sorry

What does a woman running late for her job with less than a quarter gallon of gas and a horse have in common? Well, eventually they both run out of gas. Or was that just you? Probably. Here you were on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere trying to contact your job, your friends, anyone really. So much for a support system since your cries for help went unanswered before you completely lost battery. Yeah, you forgot to charge your phone after a night out with your friends, go figure.

You let out a resigned sigh as you sit in your car with the door open as the beautifully unpleasant waft of cow dung and freshly cut grass assaulted your senses. Fully giving up, you reach for the coffee you made 2 hours ago, grimacing at the relevation that it was now more like a nice cold coffee. Looking at the scenery, you tried to make yourself feel better. Hey, at least the cows are cute right? They’re staring at you with their beady little eyes, nothing behind them as they chewed away at some of the grass you strongly smelled. Just then, a cow came up close and you almost considered touching it like you would your cat Oreo, the sweet little thing. You refrained, of course, as you hadn’t hit a complete mental rock bottom at that point yet.

Just then, the cow took a huge dump right then to you, the smell from before intensifying due to obvious reasons.

You cursed the damned cow and fled the scene locking your car. That was definitely the motivation you needed to look for help nearby. Cows meant farms, right? And farms meant people. People that could help you get home. To Oreo. Or your dead end job. As you walked along the worn down fence separating you from the not-so-cute cows, you really took in your scenery. This was always a busy road as cars would often zoom by due to the scarcity of police officers in such a rural area as well as the naturally high speed limit of 60.

Nobody wants to get stuck here.

Literally no one.

It may be in the middle of nowhere, but it was quite nice. There was this thing called nature all around you if you ignored the 6 lanes that were present to your left, the 6 lanes you were speeding through only minutes before. The most of nature you usually get is the trees planted between pavement in front of your apartment building and your little cacti named Kiwi. This was kind of a nice change of pace, even if you hated to admit it.

Walking through dirt in heels is not ideal, but it had to do as you couldn’t stand the thought of dirt clinging to your feet, unknowing when you’d next take a shower. Even though you walked for an eternity, you could see no sign of life other than the few animals scattered throughout, which definitely didn’t calm your nerves.

You stopped for a second and leaned against the fence post, ignoring the possible germs it could bring with it, and blew raspberries as entertainment. You were really teaching your whits end. You may ask yourself, why don’t you flag down a car? Well, no. That’s why. We don’t do that around here.

Moving on, you continued your trek and went on for a bit more, thanking your decision to get comfortable heels. In the faint distance, you could see some sort of house structure. You squinted to better make it out and you realized it was a farm! It was quite a stellar incentive to increase the pace of your steps and you got to the entrance in only a few minutes.

You groaned in discomfort at the unusual amount of physical exercise you had to do this early in the morning and fixed up your appearance. Bun, redone. Skirt, straightened out. Shirt, saved from wrinkling. Sweat, gone. You marched up to the front door and knocked on the door only to be met with silence. You waited a few minutes until you knocked again. Met with the same reaction, you walked away and noticed an open gate. You walked towards it and sank into mud. Internally crying you marched on and looked out to see different farm animals. Horses, cows, sheep, pigs, anything you can think of was there. Whoever was running this shit meant business, you thought.

You struggled through the viscous mud and rounded a corner only to your greatest joy to find a person! Finally! With renewed vigor, you splashed until you could get in earshot of him.

“Hey! Hi! Uhm I broke down down the road and I was…” you trailed off as he turned around and you caught a glimpse of your possible savior. You were so consumed in your will to go home you never even surveyed who you were approaching. He had long, fluffy black hair that spilled over his forehead in curtain bangs and gorgeous silver dangling from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyebrow. A beautifully strong neck with a gorgeously buff body peeking out from the loosely hanging overalls he had on. His Timberlands were covered in mud and possibly fences but that didn’t deter you from appreciating the beauty of this specimen you found while you should’ve been at work. You almost were glad you broke down, if the consequences weren’t as bad as they are with your job. Almost. A goth cowboy farmer boy? You were signed up since the moment he turned around. His beautiful doe almond eyes shone as they looked at you in seemingly both surprise and concern.

“…iss? Miss? Are you okay?” You blinked a few times and willed yourself to snap out of it. You weren’t a teenager for goodness’ sake! You smiled bashfully and apologized, then explained your situation to the best of your ability. He nodded along and gasped at the right parts and you didn’t forget to include how your coffee had gone cold untouched. Offering his deepest condolences, he offered to make you coffee while you were tracking a bead of sweat running down his hairline onto his chest bones.

“Miss? Is everything alright? I think you’d better come inside, the heat could be getting to you.” You considered declining for a good few seconds before deciding, fuck it. You might as well. You took him up on his offer and he took you into his home. It was nicely decorated in almost a modern barn house way, but instead of white, the most common color was black. From the front door a loveseat was poised in front of a old-looking TV with an equally antique radio which emitted something you remembered from your ballet dance recitals you used to do. You nearly cringed, but kept scanning your eyes around. Next to you, on the opposite side of the living room area, was the dining room. Dark oak wooden chairs paired with a beautifully crafted table. What caught your attention was the fact that each table leg and every chair had intricately carved details, stories you remember you’d read as a child. You lightly grazed the nearest chair, admiring the craftsmanship before the man turned around after taking off his shoes and saw you halfway through his home.

“You like ‘em, miss?” You turned around a blushes slightly, caught in your act. You nodded, “yes, it’s gorgeous. Ive never seen something like this. Who made it?” You looked at him expecting a designer’s name or something like a neighbor gifted it to him but instead was met with, “oh I did, miss. My pride and joy. Spent a few months and then some on each piece.” Your eyes grew in size as your shock increased. You weren’t expecting it, but it also wasn’t too surprising. There’s not a single soul for miles around, after all. He chucked at your reaction.

“These are absolutely beautiful, uhm…” you looked at him in question. He lit up remembering he never told you his name, a shining smile crossing his face.

“Ah, name’s Jungkook, miss! Jeon Jeongguk. Sorry for not introducing myself sooner. And you are…?” You told him your name and smiled back, albeit a little more reserved than he was. He offered to make you some food and some coffee to replace the one you couldn’t drink, something which you pretended to ponder accepting before you gave him a resound yes. You’d take anything he gave you. Poison, food, a place to stay, his bed, his cock. Woah. Okay. Take a step back partner. You rounded the wall which separated the living room from the kitchen and surveyed the area once more. To your left there was a fairly new-looking kitchen with a table and two chairs. It definitely seemed like it had more worn and tear compared to the beautiful craftsmanship you’d had the opportunity to touch. The dark theme continued even with the fridge being a darker steel, the other appliances following. It all seemed pretty high tech, so it got you curious.

“Hey, do you have good electricity here?” He looked over at you from where he was whisking up something for you to eat and smiled, looking back down.

“Well, kinda…? Nothin’ like what ya get at the city I’ll tell you that, missy. Still works well enough, anyway.” You wondered how he got so much metal on him if he seems to speak like he’s never gone to the city, so it prompts you to ask, “how’d you get so many piercings this far out? If you don’t mind me asking of course.” He lets out a chuckle and turns his attention fully to you.

“Well, I have city friends. They come every once in a while. I been a country boy since I was kickin’, if ya wanted to know.” He humorously smiled and went back to his task. You sat down at the table, feeling everything shift slightly under your weight. You took out your phone and tried to see if by some miracle it started working, but to no avail. Looking up and seeing you, he remembered something he was going to tell you, eyebrows rising.

“Ah, missy! I forgot to tell ya! I got a land phone with connection you can use! It slipped my mind. And yeah, no, I don’t got any chargers. Sorry.” He answered quickly before you could even think to ask, but you were grateful for at least having a method of communication. You took him up on his offer and searched your brain for a possible phone number you could call. He took you to the antique method of communication and you dislodged it from its rightful place. The phone beeped as you punched in the numbers into the number pad. At least it isn’t a rotary phone. It rang for a few seconds before the other person picked up.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Hey mom, it’s me,” you informed.

“Oh my goodness, my darling! Ive been trying to reach you!”she exclaimed, worry evident in her voice.

“I know, I ran out of battery. A nice guy lent me his phone and I was able to call.”

“A nice guy, you say?” Her voice took a suggestive turn, a stark contrast to her earlier one.

“Mom, please. Im stranded like forty minutes away from the city.” You begged, hoping you could reason with her. Yeah, you were 25, but you didn’t need to settle down at that age! If only your mom didn’t think otherwise.

“Right. Well, I can go get you if you tell me where it is possibly uhhh…tomorrow? Tomorrow mornin—no! Afternoon! Sorry, work. Yeah.” You could hear her nervously scrambling to correct herself, knowing this was just some ploy to get you to know the guy.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Now hang tight and make a friend! Loveyoubye!” “Mo—!”before you could get another word in, she hung up. The line went dead and you hung it back up, leaning against the wall. You grimaced for the second time that day. She was really doing this to you. Well, the more you thought about it, the less bad it seemed. You were stranded in a farm with a hot goth boy who carved as a hobby and seemed to know how to cook. What’s better? Good in bed? God, how you wanted to find out.

Walking back towards the kitchen, you caught a glimpse of what you could only guess was his bedroom. His bed was dressed in black silk sheets which reflected the afternoon light and the rest of the room followed the dark theme. Before you took too long, you willed yourself towards the kitchen and sat down with a huff.

“What’d they say?”

“My mom said she can’t pick me up until tomorrow afternoon,” you groaned. He awwed at the statement and finished the preparations to his “simple meal”. He brought 2 plates and a cup in front of you, which you thanked him for before you surveyed the plates. The first bigger plate contained some what looked like chicken and a salad while the smaller plate contained a prettily plated apple pie. The cup, beautifully enough, contained some steaming coffee. Your eyes almost watered as you thanked him and began eating.

“Sorry I cant offer you anything better, miss. If i had know a pretty little thing like you would break down and need my help I would’ve been better prepared.” You blushed at his statement and commented on how good the meat and veggies were.

“Raised the meat and got the veggies from my garden myself! All pretty fresh, since I only killed the poor thing a day ago.” He exclaimed proudly, a sad quality to his voice after the second part. He cheered up pretty fast and said,” and I baked the apple pie a few hours ago actually! I hope you like it, too.” He finished. He was almost bashful. You complimented his food and he informed you he still had some stuff to do out in the farm.

“Ah! If you need any fresh clothes you can look through my stuff and find something,” he finished with a smile. You thanked him and continued eating as he walked out the house and went on with his day. The house was now silent save for the occasional animal noise and the movement of grass with breeze. Finishing your last bite of apple pie, you got up with the coffee and headed towards the assumed bedroom. He didn’t mention where it was, but you doubted he cared whether you looked through his stuff or not. Not like he was here anyway. You set the cup down on one of his dressers and rummaged for something to wear. The uniform was getting pretty stuffy in the heat of the house, so a nice shirt and some pants would do the trick. You took off all your clothes and considered taking off your underwear too. What if something ends up happening? You want to sleep with him so bad. Ultimately, you took everything off. Naked, you took his most see-through-looking white shirt and a pair of his boxers, the only bottom part that fit after tying it a bit. You ran your hands between your thighs to quell your excitement at not having any undergarments and lowly squealed. You hoped your pressing didn’t show how wet you were. You went out to find him with his shoes on, even if they didn’t fit. Hey, they felt like you were wearing your dad’s shoes, but it got the job done. You found him feeding the horses at the stable before what seemed like bath time, soap and a hose ready to go.

“Hey!” You exclaimed. He looked your way and immediately almost choked in surprise, his face turning red.

“I see you… uhm… got comfortable, miss.” He choked out. You internally grinned and nodded,” yeah these fit best and they’re quite nice. Is it okay?”you feigned innocence, pretending like you didn’t elaborately search for both of these pieces with a goal in mind. He shook his head and informed you he was doing exactly what you thought, bathing the horses. It seemed like he was doing that before you got here as he was on the last horse. You asked if you could help and he accepted, smiling humorously. At what, you don’t know. He let the hose run over the horse for a bit before he shut it off, something that gave you an idea. You were going to make it as messy as you could and try to get yourself completely wet, making the already almost see through shirt stick to your body. The perfect plan, if anyone asked you. It would make him want you, you were sure. At the very least start wanting you. What you didn’t know, is that he was restraining himself to the highest degree from pouncing on you right now. You were beautiful from the moment he saw you and he could tell you found him attractive. This act of dressing up in these kinds of clothes just further confirmed it. You lathered the horse in its special soap and made sure to stick to it accidentally, dampening your shirt. Your nipples poked from the cold and wetness and you could even see the pink of them. Jeongguk turned on the hose and you “accidentally” didn’t move out the way. You exclaimed in pretend shock and he immediately shut off the water and ran over to you. You were completely soaked and you feigned sadness over being all wet. He knew what you were getting at. He knew it wasn’t a mistake. He was onto you.

“Oh no miss! You didn’t move out the way! Sorry.” He feigned as well. You sulked a little and went to go back to giving the horse a second coat of soap when he caught you by your waist. He pushed your body against his and got close to your face, so much so you could count the freckles on his cheeks. You only squealed lightly from shock.

“I know what you’re trying to do, miss. You know, trying to be innocent doesn’t work on me,” he breathed out, voice husky. You blushed, not thinking you’d be found out so quickly.

“Let’s say we skip this part and get straight to business. What do you say?” He inquires, a raises brow making his piercing shine in the light. You nod and he presses harder.

“Yes. Or. No,” he presses. You breathe out a “yes” and he immediately smacks your mouth against his. His tongue makes his way into your mouth and both of your tongues dance together. He pats the horse and it starts to trot away, almost as if understanding it was a moment not for its eyes. He walks you back, still making out, until you reach what you think might be hay and he breaks the kiss only to press you down against it. Breathing heavily, he goes back for another kiss and begins moving his hands over your body. He touches your tits and squeezes them both, arousing a surprised moan from you. He breaks the kiss and begins flicking your hard nipples through the fabric.

“This is what you wanted, right? Right, little miss?” You moan in response and he spanks your tits.

“Give me and answer, missy.” You flush answer, “yes, this is exactly what I wanted please don’t stop.” He lowers his head onto your nipples and begins sucking them and moving them around, playing with them like they’re joysticks. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on. You can physically feel your juices dripping down your thighs. You moan feverishly, almost like you’ve never been touched by a man. He then, bites your nipple and stretches out before letting it go. Without warning, he presses against your center and you let out a choked moan.

“Look at you. I can feel how wet you are, baby. You haven’t had anyone as good as me, now have you?” He asks and you answer with a resound no. No man has ever been able to make you into a pool of goo and have you waterfall from your pussy like he has. He returns his assault on your clothed boobs while keeping pressure on your cunt and you cant take it anymore. You begin rubbing against his leg and he stops his manouvers completely. He stares at you as you rub against his leg like a bitch in heat, leaving a noticeable dark spot on his denim overall pants. He chuckles darkly and removes his thigh causing you to whine. He urges you to open your eyes, something you didn’t even know you had done, and held your face firmly to look straight at him.

“Did i say you could use me to get off? Hmm? You were rubbing against me like a fucking whore. Are you that desperate, huh? You wanna get fucked that badly?” He spoke so disrespectfully to you, but god. You fucking loved it. It was only a few seconds before you started to beg. “Yes, I’m your whore. I want your cock so badly, please.” He hummed at your answer and left you altogether. You protested only to be told to shut up. You did so, and was incredibly turned on in the process. He came back with what looked like restraints.

“I usually use these with the horses, but who would’ve thought I’d have to use them on some pretty little slut who stumbled across me today,” he smirked. You whined and playfully fought against his restraints, only to have his seat at your ass. The spank caused you to let out a long, lustful moan and it only made his Cheshire grin bigger.

“Oh? My sweet little bitch likes to be spanked too? Fucking look at you.” He finished restraining you, leaving your arms and legs unable to move.

“This is what you get for using me to get off without permission, missy. You left me no choice.” You whined and moves your pelvis up and down, trying to show him where you wanted him. He smirked and walked away again. You groaned in frustration again and he answered back,

“I’m gonna wash my hands, pretty. Im sure you don’t want any infections.” You simmered down and waited for his return, one that was swift. He smiled and looked at you only for a frown to overcome his face. You inquired him what was wrong and he said, “you’re wearing too many clothes.” Immediately after, he ripped his shirt apart and the boxers, both ruined garments falling limply besides you. He licked his lips looking at your body and surveyed your pussy, finding it dripping. He chucked and spanked your clit, something that made you jolt and moan.

“You’re dripping, baby. I’ve barely even done anything, too… hmm, well you’ve taken your consequences quite well, so why doesn’t little missy get a reward, eh?” You nodded enthusiastically and he smiled, ruffling your hair. Immediately he plugged up your begging hole with two thick fingers, causing you to howl in pain. Its been a while since you had anything in there. Soon enough, though, the whimpers of pain turned into moans of pleasure as he fingered you at a fast and hard pace while rubbing your clit. He was repeatedly hitting your g spot and you felt like you had to pee. Afraid to pee on him, you urged him to stop.

“H…hey J—Jeongg…ungh… Jeongguk…. I think I’m gonna… gonna… pee!” By the end of your sentence you were screaming as you watched clear juices spill out of you. That was new. “What we’re you saying?” He inquired with a smirk. As you panted, he lowered himself and began licking at your pussy. He ate you out with vigor you never knew in your life from past partners until he made you cum with just his tongue, without needing the aid of anything else. As you came down from your orgasm, he came up and kissed you as your juices ran down his chin. He looked you in the eyes and asked almost shyly, a stark change in demeanor, “you think I can fuck you?” You breathlessly chuckled and answered, “fuck yeah.”

He took off his overalls as soon as you said that, grinning madly. The lowering of the overalls showed his beautifully sculpted abs and pecs clearly and the lower he went the more you realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His dick sprung to life leaking precum from its pink tip. He took his hand and jerked himself a little before he lined up at your entrance and looked at you questioningly. You nodded and he went in slowly. Your juices made the ability for friction disappear and soon he started pounding into your weeping pussy. He reached down and choked you lightly as he began stimulating your clit again and you screamed in overstimulation. He didn’t give up and eventually you began feeling pleasure and his cock rammed into you relentlessly. He panted as he fucked into your cunt and your pussy squeezed his dick. You moaned in pleasure, despite your restricted air flow and he groaned from the feel of his dick fucking your pussy. Soon enough, you came to your end squeezing his dick like a python and he pulled it out. He jerked off and came over your stomach and tits covering them entirely.

“Fuck, if I had a phone I would’ve definitely taken a picture of this. You look beautiful like this, miss.” He panted and you chuckled breathlessly. You both stared at each other attempting to catch your breaths in silence. He was the first who broke it.

“So… wanna take a shower?”

[maximumkingdomstarlight]

Chapter 7

you can read the previous chapters here:

of course, you didn't need it... You didn't need to be protected, you are a grade 1 sorcerer, and the only thing you need protection from is when you fight with powerful special grades, so powerful. but your mom didn't know you were a sorcerer, the only thing she knew was that you went to a private religious school after middle school, a high school that was recommended by your middle school.

so there you were, sitting in front of a handsome young man, who seemed to be the same age as you... or maybe younger. you were actually surprised by the man's looks, because this was a blind date your mom arranged for you... But then again, your mom knew your high standard for men, which was too high, especially to make your mom give up on the idea of finding that perfect man... but she just pestered you to find someone on your own when she understood it was impossible. she had stopped it for a while, but again, when you went to Japan on your own, she was worried about you, so... this man was there, smiling sweetly at you. saying that his name was Watanabe Akio...

the crystal chandeliers around the restaurant illuminating your black dress, which was covering half of your knees, when he first saw you, his mouth was slightly agape as he gave the flower bouquet to your hand. his black suit and slicked black hair made him look very elegant.

his parents were Japanese, but he had moved to the USA when he was young, which was quite similar to your case, so it felt like you two understood each other well. he was a sweet, elegant, handsome, and an understanding man... which were a few of the ideal personality of a guy you searched for, but it was too early to say, the conversation was easy until he asked you a question. which was a little hard to answer...

"So, what do you teach?" he tilted his head. "In your school" he added.

"uh... like, um... PE" you laughed awkwardly.

"I see" he nodded, he was an engineer, so there was nothing you could ask to change the conversation... 

"I am actually an assistant teacher, I help to the teacher in charge of PE" your eyes looking at your side, were you seeing things now? teacher in charge, ha? his smirk, the teacher in charge's smirk, his white hair, his ocean blue eyes covered from his sunglasses this time... just next to you and your blind date's table... You looked back at your blind date, who seemed unaware of him.

"In my school, I only had one teacher for PE" he smiled, he was genuinely surprised by that, but he thought that since he had never gone to a Japanese school, maybe things were different here than in his school, which was in the USA.

you were very distracted, Why the hell was Gojo there? alone, he was alone in that round table... but you didn't want to look and confirm, you knew doing that would make him smug and know that you were interested in his private business, and most of all... You were too arrogant for that... even though you were genuinely curious to know if he was dating someone, even though it was not your business, you were interested in knowing who was able to get him to a place like this, he was the strongest, who was that amazing to lure him in? maybe he was the one luring the poor girl, most probably a fling...

but one thing was for sure, he did see you, but he wouldn't hear you through the jazz music playing in the dinner hall.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" you asked with a small smile

"It's nothing big, just forget it... You seemed distracted. something wrong?"

"Uh... no, I was feeling the music" you replied, trying to hide the small guilty tone in your calm voice.

"Oh, you like Jazz music?"

"Quite so" you smiled.

'Just the two of us' was the words playing at the moment, but what an irony... There was another person. looking at the two of them.

"Really? that's another similarity... this is bad" Akio joked, making you laugh...

"Is it really?"

"it... isn't, actually" he smiled softly, staring deep into your eyes, making you smile again, This was too sweet, Gojo had to do everything to stay there, acting like he couldn't see you and your date, What did you even see in him? why were you smiling at that guy more than you smiled with him? why?

"Excuse me, sir... You haven't ordered yet" a waiter holding out the menu reminded Gojo. he laughed "Oh, yeah, I was trying to eavesdrop, but I couldn't hear it through the loud music, why is such boring music playing?" he asked with a sweet smile, making the waiter blink twice... he didn't know how to reply.

"Uh... is there any song that you recommend, sir?"

"Shame on me by Avicci," he said, trying not to frown.

"R-right, sir, I'll try to see what I can do" he smiled, his smile was twitching, because Gojo's attention was not on the menu, but on the ceiling to the floor window which showed the beautiful lights of the city, Tokyo was really a beautiful place, unless... that jerk wasn't there, opposite to you...

"Sir, you still didn't-"

"Just bring me the most expensive on the menu, make sure it hurts me enough"

The waiter bowed before leaving, 'Well, that was good for the restaurant... but what a weirdo' he thought to himself.

after a fine dinner with your blind date, you two stood up to leave, and you instinctively glanced at Gojo, who was frowning at you two, but quickly gave his meal the attention, so you didn't see him staring...

You and Akio were standing near the façade of the restaurant, the lights were so bright, the moon was no match for it

"So, how are you going back?" Akio asked, looking at you with a soft smile.

"Uh... a vehicle will pick me up" You smiled, you had Ijichi-san set up for it...

"Right, then shall I wait till it comes?"

"N-no, please don't bother yourself with such things, I am really grateful for your offer, but the vehicle will come in no time" You gave him a small smile 

Of course the boy didn't want to be too pushy, "Are you sure?"

"yes" you nodded

"Then please text me when you get back home safely" and he went, waving at you while walking backwards, too cute for his good. he was definitely younger than you... You smiled as you watched him go.

and Two or three minutes passed, Ijichi-san messaged you that he was on his way... You started descending the stairs slowly.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice called out, you had forgotten about him... Author's note: Sorry for the late update guys, Thank you for all the followers and likes, love you guys❤️

[rottingmanifesto]

Collection of Notes

Long-ass post, sorry about that. This part has Lincoln & John, and is separated into canon(ish) and headcanons. I might do Giorgi, Danny, and Ellis in the next part, idk. I’ll let y’all decide.

Lincoln

canon…ish

Leans his head to the side when annoyed or interested (which are usually intertwined)

Processes things aloud (seen in Sign of the Times) or in writing (through journals), but tends to stay quiet around others unless prompted- also seen in Sign of the Times (heavily dependent on who he’s talking to)

Avoids lying, but omits crucial details if warranted. Inadvertently tells a story through the gaps

Denies patterns between his friends/allies/community and opposing groups

Despises predictability in his murders, but relies heavily on patterns in everyday life (see: “time strictness” gag)- he can even get mad when others allow for predictability

Smile veers off more to the right when bemused/fake smile, but more upwards when genuinely happy

Very expressive when around trusted people, but generally pretty stony otherwise

(Probably obvious, but) fear and sadness come out sideways as anger

Religion is important, but he values community/physical people over abstract ideals

Far more sympathetic than empathetic

Quickens pace when in shock or angry

Prefers secular soul, some proto-punk, and rock (Sam Cooke, Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, The Kinks, etc.)

headcanon/speculation

Most likely deals with stress-induced psychosis as a by-product of PTSD- on that note, he most likely has Complex-PTSD

Autistic but regardless of time/era, he never gets diagnosed

Middle name is James, purposefully named himself after Father James, probably sometime as a teenager

Learned how to whistle while in the orphanage via some older kids teaching him

Never fully finished high school, due to Sammy needing his assistance (?)

John

canon…ish

Rubs his scar when mildly irritated or stressed, and flexes his hand when mad or having a flashback (see: river scene, Stones Unturned clips)

Mimics accents extremely well (when he tries)

Has a rage-smile (idk how else to describe it, just see the ending cutscene)

Lies outright for two reasons: 1-to control narratives/stories and trick others, and 2-to keep from being too vulnerable with others

Prefers less ‘loud’ songs/bands (The Animals, Calico Wall, occasional Creedence Clearwater Revival, Jefferson Airplane, etc.)

Empathetic rather than sympathetic usually

Views himself as innately evil/bad and relies on actions to make up for his perceived evil- this also plays off of how he sees himself in Aldridge in Stones Unturned

headcanon/speculation

Originally from Pennsylvania (suburb/city area)

3rd generation Irish-American

Has faint freckles on his face and shoulders, but they don’t show up much at all

Polyglot— knows English, Vietnamese, Spanish, some French and Italian, and a few phrases in Russian

Journalism major and history minor (when at Princeton)

Middle name is Caleb, went by Cal (sometimes) when undercover

Raised Catholic, now atheist- used to play the piano at his church up until he left for college

[dwellordream]

“…Now, if people are taught anything at all about medieval history it often is English medieval history. People with absolutely no other frame of reference can often tell you when the Norman Conquest of England took place, or the date of the signing of Magna Carta even if they don’t know exactly why these things are important. (TBH Magna Carta isn’t important unless you were a very rich dude at the time, sooooo.) If you ask people to name a medieval book they’ll probably say Beowulf even if they’ve never read it.

Here’s the thing though – England was a total backwater in terms of the way medieval people thought and was not particularly important at the time. How much of a backwater? Well, when Anne of Bohemia, daughter of my man Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV (RIP, mate. Mourn ya til I join ya.) married King Richard II of England in the fourteenth century there was uproar in Prague. How could a Bohemian imperial princess be sent to London? How would she survive in the hinterlands? The answer was she was sent along with an entire cadre of Bohemian ladies in waiting to give her people with whom she could have a sophisticated conversation.

This ended up completely changing fashion in England. Anne is the girl who introduced those sweet horned headdresses you think of when you think of medieval ladies, riding side-saddle, and the word “coach” to England, (from the Hungairan Kocs, where the cart she arrived at court the first time came from). Sweetening her transition to English life was the fact that she didn’t have to pay a dowry to get married. Instead, the English were allowed to trade freely with Bohemia and the Holy Roman Empire and allowed to be around a Czech lady. That was reward enough as far as the Empire was concerned. That’s how much England was not a thing. (The English took this insult very badly, and hated Anne at first, but since she was a G they got over it. Don’t worry.)

If England was unimportant why do we know about English medieval history and nothing else? Same reason you’re reading this blog in English right now, homes. I’m not sure if you know this, but in the modern period, the English got super super good at going around the world an enslaving anyone they met. When you’re busy not thinking about German imperial atrocities in the nineteenth century it’s because you’re busy thinking about British imperial atrocities, you feel me? So we all speak English now and if we harken back to historical things it gives us a grandiose idea of English history.

Say, then, you are trying to establish a curriculum for schools that bigs up English history, as is our want. Ask yourself – are you gonna want to dwell on an era where England was so unimportant that Czechs were flexing on it? Answer: no. You gonna gloss right over that and skip to the early modern era and the Tudors who I am absolutely sure you know all the fuck about. The second colonial-imperialist reason for not learning about medieval history is that medieval history doesn’t exactly aggrandise the colonial-imperialist system.

Yes, there are empires in medieval Europe. In addition to the Holy Roman Empire there’s the Eastern Roman Empire, aka the Byzantine Empire, whose downfall is often pointed to as one of several possible bookends to the medieval period. You also have opportunists like the Venetians who set up colonies around the Adriatic and Mediterranean, or the Normans who defo jump in boats and take over, well, anything they could get their hands on.

Notably, when these dudes got where they were going, they didn’t end up enslaving a bunch of people, committing genocide, and then funnelling all resources back to a theoretical homeland. The Normans settled down where they were eventually creating distinctive court cultures, and the Venetian colonies enjoyed a seriously high level of trade and quality of life without major disruption to local customs. Force was certainly used to take over at the outset, but it wasn’t something that resulted in the complete subjugation and deaths of millions halfway around the world from where the aggressors started.

No, the European middle ages are a lot more about local areas muddling along with smaller systems of rule. That’s why you have distinctive areas like say, Burgundy or Sicily calling their own shots and developing their own styles and fashions. Hell, even within imperial systems like the Holy Roman Empire Bavarians or Bohemians saw themselves as very much distinct peoples within an imperial system, not necessarily imperial subjects first and foremost.

You know where you would go to find some history that justifies huge imperial systems that require constant conquest and an army of slaves to keep them afloat? Ancient Rome. Remember how you got taught how great Rome was? How it was a democracy? How they had wonderful technology and underfloor heating, and oh isn’t that temple beautiful? Yeah, that’s because you were being inculcated to think that the ends of imperial violence justifies mass enslavement and disenfranchisement.

In reality, Rome wasn’t some sort of grand free democracy. Only a tiny percentage of Romans could actually vote. Women of any station certainly could not, and even men who were lucky enough to be free weren’t necessarily Roman citizens. Freedom here is particularly important because by the 1 century BCE 35 – 40% of the population of the Italian peninsula were slaves. Woo yeah democracy. I love it. And that’s not even taking into account all those times when an Emperor would suspend voting altogether.

Those slaves were busy building all the grand buildings your high school history teacher was dry jacking it about, stuffing the dormice that the rich people were reclining to eat, and basically keeping the joint running. Those slaves also necessitated the ridiculously huge army that Rome kept going because you had to get slaves from somewhere after all, so warfare had to be continuous. How uplifting.

Eagle-eyed readers will notice that this Roman nonsense is pretty much exactly what was going on during the modern colonial imperial age. You can say whatever the fuck you want about how free and revolutionary America was, for example. That doesn’t change the fact that only a handful of white property owning men could vote, and that the entire project required the mass enslavement of Africans and the genocide of Native Americans. That’s why you’ve been taught Rome is great. It helps you sleep well at night on stolen land because, really, haven’t all great societies done this? I mean without a forever war against anyone you can find, how will you keep a society going?

Our imperialist ideas about history lead to some weird historical takes. People love to tell you that no one bathed in the medieval period when medieval people had pretty much exactly the same sort of bathing culture as Romans. People laugh at medieval people believing in medical humoral theory despite the fact that Romans believed exactly the same thing and get a total pass on that front. The Roman ban on dissection is often taught as a medieval ban, shifting Roman superstition onto the shoulders of medieval people.

On-going Roman warfare is reported in glowing terms with emphasis on the “brilliance” of Roman military technique, while inter-kingdom warfare in the medieval period is portrayed as barbaric and ignorant. The Roman people who were encouraged to worship emperors as literal gods are used as an example of theoretical religion-free logical thinking, while medieval Christians are cast as ignorant for believing in God even when they are studiously working on the same philosophical queries as their predecessors. None of this makes any fucking sense.

But here’s the thing – it doesn’t need to. In a colonial imperialist society we have positioned Rome as a guiding light no matter what it’s actual practices and that’s not a mistake. It’s a design that helps to justify our own society. Further, this mindset requires us to castigate the medieval period when rule was more localised and systems of slavery had taken a precipitous dive. If only there had been more slavery, you know? Things might have been so much better.

Historical narratives and who controls them are always in flux. That old adage “history is written by the winners” comes to mind here, but that’s not exactly true. What the winners do is decide which histories are promoted, taught, and broadcasted. You can write all the history you want and if no one reads it, then it doesn’t really matter. That’s the gap that medieval history has fallen into. Colonial imperialism hasn’t figured out how to weaponise it yet, so it’s ignored. You could write this off as a “so what”, of course. Sure, maybe teaching the Roman Empire as a goal is a negative, but is ignoring medieval history really that bad a thing? You will be unsurprised to learn that I definitely think it is a bad thing, yes.

Ignorance about the medieval period is one of the things that is allowing the current swelling ranks of fascists to claim medieval Europe as some sort of “pure” white ideal. Spoiler: it was not. However, if you don’t know anything about medieval society how are you gonna argue with some chinless douche with a fake viking rune tattoo?History is always political. We use it to understand our world, but more than that we also use it to justify our world. Ignoring it helps us prop up our worst impulses, so let’s not.”

- Eleanor Janega, “On colonialism, imperialism, and ignoring medieval history.”

[recurring-polynya]

In tHiaM, Renji mentioned a fictional fateful encounter in which he and Rukia met in the circus. I can picture this deeply. The Rukon has circuses. It has gritty knife throwers, it has scrappy beast tamers, it has a lovely doe-eyed tightrope walker who does stunts so dangerous your hair'd turn white just watching her. It is for Renji's birthday so he should get Rukia being extremely badass and saving his life from a rampaging circus bear. Ideally, Kenpachi is there.

A lot of times, I’ll have some idea for a story, and I’ll do a bit of research and find out that the thing I wanted to do absolutely does not exist in Japanese culture, and I was completely sure that when I dug into it, Japanese circuses would not be a thing, or they would be extremely different from Western circuses, but as it turns out, circuses were absolutely a thing in the Edo era, and they had acrobats and strongmen and horseriding and more. I had so many tabs open about circuses, and almost none of it actually made it into this fanfic.

Anyway, THANK YOU ALOPEX, you know what I like to write, and what I like to write is Renji telling rambling stories of questionable veracity. I put in some lifting for good measure. This might be the most perfect Renji birthday story.

If it isn’t immediately evident, this takes place in the middle of the Advance Team Arc, or more specifically, in the middle of my Advance Team Arc story, See You on the Other Side, where Renji tells Chad a different RenRuki origin story that’s basically the desert bandit subplot from Crouching Tiger, and also a story about bees.

Read on ao3 | ff.net

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Renji hefted the last bumper plate onto the end of the barbell and tightened the collar. Chad watched him with narrowed eyes.

“You sure you want to try this?” Renji asked. “One thousand pounds. It’s the weight limit for this bar. Once you beat this, we gotta go back to Urahara’s place and pick up big rocks.”

Apparently, Chad worked part time at his gym, which meant he had a key, which meant that he and Renji could go in at two a.m. so that Renji could teach him how to lift absurd amounts of weight with his reiatsu. It was pretty convenient, as long as you didn’t mind lifting weights at two a.m. Renji loved lifting weights at two a.m.

“You just don’t want to tell me another story,” Chad replied, flexing his shoulders in anticipation.

“Whatever, I got a million of them.” Renji took a few steps backward.

Chad flared his nostrils and stepped up to the barbell. He squatted down and curled his fingers around the grip. He took three deep breaths as he stared straight again. Leading with his hips, he straightened up in a smooth, textbook perfect movement, the sinews in his neck popping out, the air around him boiling with power.

Renji wished he could drag Chad over to Squad Six, so those spoiled weenies could see what hard work actually looked like.

Chad dropped the weight and a huge breath burst out of him, his eyes widening in relief. “I did it,” he gasped.

“You did it, buddy!” Renji shouted, pointing at the barbell. “You’re a machine! You didn’t even make it look hard!”

“It was hard,” Chad managed.

“I don’t believe it!” Renji continued. “One thousand pounds! You’re incredible, dude!”

“What do you mean, you don’t believe it? You told me to do it.”

“I mean, when I told you we were gonna work for the big one-kay, it was, you know, a stretch goal. I didn’t expect you to get there so fast!”

“You said you would tell me another story when I hit it! I assumed it was a reasonable goal.”

“I keep making unreasonable goals and you keep hitting them, so I’m just sort of winging it, now, t’be honest! I’m actually really bothered how much you are motivated by my dumb stories. If I had any human money, I would just offer to buy you tacos or something.”

“I can make my own tacos. I like the stories.”

Renji sighed. They didn’t have tacos in Soul Society and he was determined to eat as many tacos as he possibly could while he was stationed in the Living World. “Go get cleaned up, and I’ll put the weights away and try to decide which story to tell you this time. I did bring us some protein shakes. I can’t vouch for them, because they’re made out of stuff I found in the Shouten, but it’s important to get some calories in you after lifting. ”

“I’m sure they’re fine. I like your protein shakes. Oh, and I know which story I want to hear--how you met Rukia.”

Of course he did.

Renji was a man of many stories. He had so many good stories. He had Inuzuri stories that were full of mischief and dirtbaggery. He had Squad 11 stories that were full of headbutting and idiocy. He had interesting stories about his clever friends Izuru and Momo and funny stories about his goofy friend Shuuhei and horrible stories about his horrible friends Iba and Madarame. But Chad had asked him once how he met their mutual friend Kuchiki Rukia, a very reasonable and natural thing to ask, and Renji had responded with a ridiculous story that was very obviously not true. Now, all Chad wanted to hear was ostentatious lies about how he, Abarai Renji, had met the incomparable Kuchiki Rukia.

Renji racked his brain as he racked Chad’s weights. This would probably make the eighth or ninth Renji-Rukia origin story, he’d honestly lost count. He was running out of material. There was a bulletin board next to the weight storage rack, covered with flyers for a weightlifting tournament in Naruki City, the Karakura High kendo team, tumbling lessons. Renji stared at the picture of the girl in the sparkly leotard on the last one. He thought about how he and the gang used to make up stories of how they were gonna make it out of Inuzuri some day. He thought about Rukia’s absolute favorite, the one she told over and over, the way it got bigger and sparklier every time she told it.

Chad returned, a tracksuit zipped overtop his workout clothes. “Need help?” he asked.

“This is the last one,” Renji replied, hefting it up onto the shelf. “You can put the bar away, though.”

Chad did.

It was kinda nice, Renji thought, being in a gym in the middle of the night with Chad. It reminded him of hunching over his dorm room desk across from Izuru, cramming for written exams. It reminded him of achy muscles in a dim Fifth Company dojo, trying to figure out the mechanics of Zabimaru’s shikai deep into the wee hours. It reminded him of long runs with Ikkaku as the sun was just peaking over the city walls. The hours between dusk and dawn were a pretty good time for doing things, in Renji’s opinion.

“So, did you remember? How you met her?”

“Of course I remember!” Renji protested. “You think I would forget something like that?”

“You do get hit on the head a lot,” Chad rumbled gently and it took Renji a moment to realize he just got dragged. Chad was actually a really funny guy, you just had to pay attention.

Renji plopped down on a pile of mats and started rummaging around in his backpack for the two bottles of questionable nutritional substance he had mixed up earlier. “Well, I certainly remember the time I ran away from home and joined the circus, I’ll tell you that.” It was a good opening line, and he paused a few seconds to get the full effect.

“The circus?” Chad echoed skeptically, sitting down next to Renji and accepting his smoothie.

“The circus,” Renji replied after taking a long swig. It was very, very strawberry flavored. “So. I think I mentioned once that when I died I got sent to the shit-end of Rukongai. District 78 of the Southern Quadrant, where your best hope is to die soon and catch an express trip back to the Living World. I was too dumb and stubborn for that, though, so I was always on the lookout for a way out. Now, it’s pretty hard to move between districts in Rukongai-- it’s illegal without a special permit, see, and special permits get harder to get the further out you go. But there are a few kinds of permits that allow you to travel all up and down Soul Society, and one of those is for entertainers.”

This was more-or-less true. It was true in theory, but travelling shows never made it out to the deep Rukon-- there was no profit in it. Rukia used to swear up and down that a circus had made it to Inuzuri once, basically just passing through on their way to capture wild animals from the magical wilderness past the end of District 80, but she had seen it. Rukia was older than the rest of them, and she used to talk about it in such nauseating detail that they had no choice but to believe her.

“When I saw the posters plastered up all over town, my first thought was that it was an opportunity to pick up some quick kan as temporary labor. My primary job skill at the time was picking up heavy objects, you see, perhaps moving them from place to place. Circuses always need help with set up and tear down. I mean, do I look like a theater kid?”

Chad stared at him pointedly.

“I don’t know why I asked that,” Renji quickly corrected, “but also, keep in mind that I am Like This because I was in the circus, not the other way around. Anyway, my instincts were correct, and I found myself gainfully employed, carting crates and also tying and untying knots, another of my many talents. But then two things, or rather two someones made me decide that I needed to hitch my star to this ridiculous pageant. The first, I will admit, was a complete castle in the sky, but what is being an adolescent boy about if not chasing after hopeless dreams?”

Chad frowned. “Well. There’s school.”

“There is no school in Inuzuri, actually, and perhaps that would have kept me out of trouble, but instead, I became absolutely entranced by the glittering star of the show-- a tightrope walker of exceptional agility, grace, and beauty. Her most defining characteristic, though, was her audacity. There was no trick too dangerous for her. She somersaulted through hoops of fire. She juggled daggers. She’d stop halfway across the tightrope, pull out a tokkari, and pour herself a saucer of sake and drink it, while the audience gasped.”

“It was Kuchiki,” Chad guessed, the corner of his mouth tipping up into his shy grin.

“It was Rukia,” Renji agreed, “but imagine Rukia in head-to-toe spangles, with bells in her hair and glitter painted around her eyes, 20 feet in the air. She was unreal. She was an apparition, a spirit. I was desperate to meet her.”

“Did you?” asked Chad.

“Chad,” said Renji.

“What?”

“Did you just… did you just ask me if I ever managed to meet Rukia? Your friend and mine, Kuchiki Rukia? In the middle of this story about how I met Rukia?”

Chad thought for a moment. “It’s two a.m. and I just deadlifted a thousand pounds.”

“That’s fair, and the answer is yes, eventually, I did meet Rukia and she saved me from being eaten by a bear, but we’ll get to that. Are you drinking that protein shake?”

“Oh, sorry! It’s really good, I just keep forgetting because this story is a good one.” Chad took a long sip. “Hey, Abarai?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry to interrupt again, but I have a question about the bear.”

“The bear is later.”

“Yeah, I realize that, but does the bear die?”

“Huh?”

“I’m just asking up front, because I don’t like stories where animals die, and if the bear gets hurt or dies, maybe could you skip over that part?”

“Oh! No, the bear is fine. Well, he’s probably reincarnated back into a living bear by now, he was pretty old even then. I exaggerated a little to make it sound dramatic, he probably wouldn’t have eaten me in any case.”

“Okay, you can go back to the story now, I just wanted to make sure. Thank you.”

“No, no, it’s cool. I’m glad you checked in.” Renji took a deep breath through his nose and mentally rearranged his story so that Rukia no longer defeated the beast in a dramatic knife fight. “Right. So, as I said, there was a second person at the circus who influenced me greatly and that was the most famous strongman in the entire Rukon, Zaraki Kenpachi--”

“Wait, Captain Zaraki? Big guy? With the bells in his hair?”

Oh, shit. “Uh, yeah. That’s a circus thing, you know. Hair bells. You, uh, know Captain Zaraki?”

“Yeah, Orihime made friends with him, and he broke us out of prison, but then we split up because there was someone he wanted to fight.”

“That sounds like him. Anyway, yeah, he’s in this story, too. I used to be in his squad, you know?”

“I gathered that from the way Madarame and Ayasegawa talk to you.”

“He helped me get in the Gotei, you see. Because of our time together in the circus. That’s a different story, though, we’re focusing on circus times, here. He wasn’t even the Kenpachi, yet, actually. One of the reasons he’s so strong is because before he was a fighter, he lifted things, heavy things. He did all the typical strongman stuff-- bending iron bars, biting through teacups, tearing packs of cards in half, but his most famous trick was balancing bamboo poles on his shoulders and then various acrobats and other performers would scramble up on them and do tricks from on top of him. He was wildly popular, pictured on all the posters. People would come to the circus just to see him. I did not have a lot going for me at this point of my life, but I was strong, and when I saw this guy, it occurred to me that if I could get him to take me on as some sort of apprentice, I might finally be able to use my strength to get out of that shitty town.”

“Seems like a good plan.”

“It did. It seemed like a good plan, except that Zaraki had a very busy schedule of getting drunk and napping when he wasn’t lifting things, and he was absolutely not interested in Inuzuri punks who had been hired to move crates around.”

“So, what did you do?”

“Well, speaking of Inuzuri punks, I may have been a fairly honest and hardworking fellow, but one day, a couple of my reprobate neighbors decided to sneak in and try to get a glimpse of some of the wild animals. The fellow who looked after the menagerie was a little guy by the name of Mameji. Very kind and loved the animals deeply, but not very good at standing up for himself. I barely knew him, but I don’t like bullies, and I owed most of those guys a punch in the nose anyway. Mameji was pretty grateful for the solid I did him and asked if there was any favor he could do me in return. Naturally, I asked if he knew Zaraki, but unfortunately, he was terrified of the guy, so I told him I was just happy to do a good deed and make a friend.”

“You should have asked him if he knew Rukia. Rukia likes animals.”

“You’re very smart, Sado, but remember that this story is about me, not you. It didn’t matter anyway, because the next day, he comes to find me and says there’s someone who wants to talk to me. I can’t imagine who he means, aside from holding out hope that maybe he did know Zaraki after all and was just slow-rolling me.”

“But it was Rukia.”

“It was. Mameji leads me over to the area where the animals are kept, and there, in a blue kimono embroidered with silver stars and crystals in her hair, was The Fearless Rukia.” Rukia’s circus stories were usually at least seventy-five percent descriptions of her outfits, and Renji felt obligated to keep up that detail. “‘You helped my friend out,’ she says to me. ‘I appreciate that.’ And I replied something very smooth and suave, like, ‘I like the way you do cartwheels’ or possibly just “Guuuuuuh.’ And then she says, ‘I hear you’re interested in Zaraki, what’s up with that?’ and as you know, I’m much better at talking about muscle stuff, so I explain about picking up heavy things and Inuzuri and my ambition to join the circus and she just listens carefully, nodding from time to time. She makes me pick up a few barrels and then Mameji, for good measure, and finally, she nods and says, ‘You’re pretty strong and I like your hair. Come back here tomorrow. I’m going to help you impress Zaraki.’”

Chad’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“So, the next day, I came back, like she said, and Mameji was there, too and they’ve got this big sack of yams. I’ve told you before about eatin’ in Soul Society, right?”

Chad nodded and belatedly took another gulp of his shake.

“My initial thought was that they were gonna try to bulk me up. Raw yams may not sound very exciting to you, but after years of living on near-moldy rice and the occasional sad vegetable or bony fish, I was watering at the mouth. ‘You’re gonna feed these yams to Sunny,’ says Rukia. ‘Who?’ says I. ‘His stage name is Brawler,’ says Rukia, ‘But he’s a good boy so Mameji and I call him Sunny. It’s a joke. Because he’s a moon bear.’ Brawler, you see, was the second scariest thing in the circus, right after Zaraki-- the biggest, ugliest moon bear you can possibly imagine, probably 200 kilograms. A lot of circus bears do tricks-- balance on balls or some shit, but Brawler’s only trick was looking mean as Hell. Sometimes they’d throw him a deer haunch and he’d eat it in a real gross way, I guess people like seeing stuff like that. I, like most people growing up on the southern border of the Rukon, had a healthy fear of large carnivores, but I had a much larger fear of looking like a weenie in front of Rukia, and I was determined I was gonna do whatever she told me to. The first time wasn’t so bad-- I just tossed the yams in and he snuffled over and gave me the hairy eyeball before snorfling them up. We did that the next day, too, but the day after that, Mameji took me into his enclosure to give him his yams. I was a little surprised, you see, because I would have expected a bear like that to eat meat or something like that, but he sure did like those yams.”

“Moon bears are omnivores,” Chad supplied. “They like sweet things.”

“You’re right, and I later found out that Sunny did get meat and other stuff at other times of day, but yams were his absolute favorite thing. Again, Rukia did not tell me this, because Rukia often neglects to tell me important things. I found all of this to be absolutely terrifying, and I probably would have given up and stuck to my crate moving, except that Rukia and Mameji were just about the nicest and amazing people I had ever met. They let me hang out with them for a bit and they told me stories about traveling with the circus and I told them about Inuzuri. They introduced me to their other friends, Fujimaru, who could do all sorts of knife throwing tricks, and Kosaburou, who had the most beautiful singing voice you could possibly imagine. By the time Rukia asked me to give Sunny the yams right out of my hand, I was doin’ it, not because I was desperate to get out of Inuzuri, but because I was desperate to do anything to stay with my new friends.”

Renji paused and pretended to be interested in his protein shake. Usually, he tried to fill these stories with a lot of daring-do and badassery, but he’d gotten a little off-track when had to junk his big exciting Rukia versus Bear fight scene. All he could think of was lying around the squat on miserable rainy days, one-upping each other with stories about their ridiculous circus acts. He hadn’t thought about those days-- hadn’t let himself think about those days-- in years. What a sap he was turning into. Maybe it was because Rukia was back in his life. Maybe it was because there was a war coming, a war he might not make it through. Maybe it was because it was two a.m.

“I know how that feels,” Chad said very quietly, so quietly that Renji almost didn’t catch it, and it occurred to Renji that maybe sometimes it helped to hear a sappy story at 2 a.m.

Renji snorted softly. “So, the day before the circus was set to pack up, Rukia explains her big plan to me. Up until now, I’ve sort of been assuming that this is all an exercise in building courage or some gonzo shit like that, but it turns out it’s very straightforward. Zaraki’s dream the whole time he’s been in the circus is to pick up Sunny as part of his act, except that Sunny has zero interest in being picked up and ends up chewing on Zaraki’s head every time he tries. If Zaraki had ever bothered asking Mameji for help, maybe he could have tried the old yam trick himself, but then this wouldn’t be much of a story.

“I wait ‘til the big guy is done with his nap and is prepping for the night’s performance, inventorying his lead pipes and such, and I go up to him and I say, ‘Zaraki the Great, I am very strong, you should take me on as your apprentice!’ Now, Rukia had seen people do this to him before, and she knew that he always came back with ‘Oh, yeah? Do something to impress me, then.’ Of course, I was prepared, and I said, ‘I am going to pick up Brawler, would that do it?’ and Zaraki laughs in my face and says ‘If you can do that, I will definitely take you on, kid.’”

Chad’s face had split into a huge grin and he leaned forward in anticipation.

“We go over to Sunny’s pen, and of course, Mameji’s already given him his dinner and he’s feelin’ real fat and happy when he sees his old yam buddy Renji coming. I slip him a yam that I had tucked in my sleeve and I start rubbin’ his side, which is a thing we’d been practicin’. He leans into it, ‘cause he was a big, itchy boy, and I just… flipped him and picked him up like a baby.” Renji made a scooping motion to demonstrate. Chad’s face absolutely lit up. “He was incredibly heavy and also he did not really like that,” Renji continued, “but I put him down right away and gave him another yam and he forgave me. Zaraki was laughin’ his ass off, but he kept his word and got me signed on as a Strongman-in-Training. We went on to have many more adventures, both me an’ Zaraki and me an’ Rukia an’ Mameji an’ Kosaburou and Mameji.”

“And Sunny.”

“Sunny continued to be a hideous, angry bear for the crowds, but I kept giving him yams and never picked him up again and we were great friends for the time we spent together in the circus.”

Chad sat back, smiling his usual inscrutable smile. “Thank you, Abarai. That was a really good one.”

Renji cocked an eyebrow at him. “Was it?”

“Yes. It had friendships and a nice bear and I felt like Rukia would really appreciate the effort you put into describing all her outfits. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t true, but it was a good story.”

Renji heaved a big sigh, as though he’d honestly thought Chad was gonna buy it this time. He stretched his arms and legs out in front of him. “Let’s go home. I could go for a few hours of sleep before the Shouten Shouting starts. You’re taking a rest day tomorrow, but don’t forget to stretch.”

“The last time I had a rest day, you came over and you taught me some stuff about reiryouku.”

“Did I?” Renji frowned.

“Can we do that again? You said you would try to explain how flash step works.”

Shit, he did remember promising that. He’d just gotten overenthusiastic because it was nice to be the guy who knew things for a change. On the other hand, he also remembered the enthusiasm of going to school for the first time and wanting to know everything, and could hardly fault Chad for the same. “Sure,” he agreed. “After noon.”

“Let’s make it noon,” Chad amended. “I’ll make you tacos.”

“That,” replied Renji, “is a deal.”

[readerinpastelblue]

ACE OF HEARTS SERIES

FIRST MEETING

pairing: Chishiya x reader

word count: 1.5k

tw: mentions of death

a/n: I’m sorry it took a while, but I finally did it~ my first x reader fanfic because i got desperate. Please enjoy!

 Your first meeting was not the most ideal of circumstances. Chishiya was a new member of the Beach and was undergoing what seems to be the Borderland version of a hazing, while you were abandoned by the friends you recently made after a Two of Clubs game. You can't find it in yourself to blame them. This is a Spades game; joining a large group of people will only get you killed easily.  This doesn’t stop you from hoping they survive this game though, even if you are on the verge of passing out yourself. You remember forcing yourself to take one step after the other until you ended up stumbling into the room that started whatever this is you seem to have with him.

You and Chishiya coincidently ended up in the same floor, and the same room despite the vastness of this game's arena. Or maybe the two of you just shared the same vague idea on how to exit the school building without setting off too many traps. You let out a breath of relief when you realized it was another participant instead of a tagger. There were three taggers in total and they were restricted to their respective floors. You already passed by two taggers and you preferred it that way. Anything else is better than the taggers if you’re being honest. At that time, Chishiya had his back towards you, white hoodie and all. You practically dragged yourself towards him and before you could take a peek at the piece of paper in his hands that probably contained some idea on what will happen on this floor, he crumpled it in his hands and merely said, "Run."

You heard a resounding click behind you and you started sprinting. You didn’t even look back to see what was potentially chasing you both. Run now, questions later, you thought. Chishiya already had a head start but you managed to keep up with him. Joining the track and field club back in high school was probably the best decision you've even made in your life.

Both of you ran towards the direction where the elevator should be. You are betting on the off chance that none of the participants are currently using it. Chishiya reaches the elevator first and gets the doors to open. He gets in and you joined him just in time for it to close. The both of you collapsed on the floor out of exhaustion. The half-baked plan worked. Not only did you set yourself as bait to trap half of the rabid dogs in some of the rooms, you also had to trust a complete stranger to not abandon you in the middle of it all. The only gripe you had with him is that he insisted in keeping the other half to roam the floor. This plan of his would have most likely killed you. Luckily, you only lost a shoe. But it still took you longer than necessary to reach your exit.

"I was honestly ready to jump off the window if your plan failed." You joked.

Jumping out the windows will result to being lasered and you have no intention of dying that way tonight. Nor do you have any intention of losing this game. You would have run down the stairs to the 2nd floor and risk finding a tagger there instead. The taggers are only human and they would have been distracted by the pack of rabid dogs running after this poor and exhausted player.

You heard him snort beside you, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Get up, we still need to clear the second floor," he replied instead.

You pushed yourself off the floor before getting thrown back towards it by a force from a blast that shook the elevator. This terrified you a lot that you ended up grabbing the closest thing to you—Chishiya’s arm. Embarrassingly, you unconsciously pressed your body to his side and buried your face right in his shoulder. It didn’t help that he pushed you away, but at least he held out his hand to help you stand up. Another rule of the game is that for every 10 minutes that pass, one floor starting from the 10th floor will be incinerated. That blast must have been from the 4th floor.

After assessing your current situation, you made the conclusion that you went straight to the first floor. Last time you checked, this building didn’t have any basements. The rules of the game also said that the first floor is the end goal so there shouldn’t be any traps in this floor. You only need to get out of this metal death trap to officially get on the first floor. You checked the phone that was provided by the game masters and saw you still have over 30 minutes before the remaining floors are burned down.

The elevator doors were already a few inches open so you took a peek and found that the floor was devoid of any furniture or other ornament except for the standard table you often see at the end of each game that contains the card they were playing.

“I think this is it. We’re almost there,” you said as you excitedly pushed the door further open. Since you clearly could not open it by yourself, Chishiya decided to lend you a hand. As soon as it was wide enough to fit a person, Chishiya let himself out first while you followed behind him.

You headed for the exit immediately while he grabbed the card from the table. The sound of a notification bell emanated from both of your pockets. This indicates the added days to your visa. This means you have a total of 7 days before your visa ends. This was good, it gives you more time to prepare for your next game. You recently started training your body seriously again. You even found people who were kind enough to teach and offer you some advice to survive Borderland. This reminds you that you actually prepared for tonight. You grabbed your water bottle from the fanny pack you brought with you and took a couple of sips.

Now that you felt refreshed, you shifted your attention to your new found companion who was just casually walking out of the building like they didn’t just play a death game a few moments ago.

He actually looks…. good? Cute? Handsome? My type?  You couldn’t believe how you managed to survive a Diamonds game but still short circuits at the sight of a handsome man.

In this moment, you failed to realize that you have been staring at this stranger for a full minute.

“Water?” you offered all of a sudden, dangling your half empty water bottle in front of him.

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally accepting it.

“It’s not much but it’s better than nothing,” you said just to fill the awkward silence as he drinks.

“Thanks,” he replied, handing you back the bottle

This time, another explosion broke the awkwardness between the two of you. This time, it was at the third floor. You heard someone scream and you pretended it was someone you did not recognize. Reality finally sinks in with you. Now is not the time get distracted. You needed to keep your head in the game and gather as much intel as you can so that you can get back to your world as soon as possible. You sat on the steps outside of the building and kicked off the shoe you were wearing. It makes no sense to wear it since you already lost the other pair. You threw it as far as you can that it went past the gates. Chishiya noticed this and began to leave. While you were inwardly disappointed to see him leave, you were more concerned with other things.

“Aren’t you going to wait for your friends?” you asked, raising you voice to make sure he hears you.

You half expected him to ignore you completely, but he surprised you when he paused and replied, “I don’t have friends. But I think you should leave yours instead,”

Tempting.

“No thanks.” You didn’t bother raising your voice anymore. He probably knows the answer. It was not in your blood to abandon people, especially this small company you made. You just can’t.

You continue to watch his back until it disappeared from your view.  Even then, you simply stared into the empty space he left behind. You didn’t even get his name, not that he asked yours. You weren’t even sure if you’ll ever meet him again. One of these games will surely end him, or maybe it gets you first. Or maybe you both survive and see each other in your old lives. In a café, or a park, or maybe at a party during the weekend.

You allow your train of thought to go on and on in that direction. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, you let yourself fall into a fantasy of your own making until you finally heard the last explosion.

Ah. Time’s up.

[veiledsilver]

Top five moments you've felt like the universe was messing with you.

Oh boy everyone get ready this is a long list. In descending order, from mildly funny looking back on it to "oh god oh shit oh fuck":

5. Catfishing: College Edition

In 6th grade, I decided to apply to colleges early to see how they were like. I was scared that if they knew I was too young, they'd arrest me. So I created a gmail account as my persona, a white 12th grader named Emilie Alexander. Emilie was planning to go into nursing, dating a high school linebacker named Kyle Kenderson, and deathly allergic to bee stings. If she even came near a bee, she would die.

This part was of the utmost importance.

See, I was constantly paranoid that one day, the jig would be up- I might forget that my fake last name was Alexander. Or the college dean might come knocking at my door and tear up my home in his mad search for Emilie. If that happened I would fake her tragic death, presumably caused by one big fucking bee.

I secretly collected my information. What nearby states were the prettiest to visit. Which colleges were the safest and most affordable. How often they held courses that I liked. In my emails with colleges I tried to sound as mature and professional as possible.

Then, one day, a college member asked me what high school I was in, so they could check my records.

My blood froze.

It was time to bring out the bee.

In response to their question, I sent an email that was like this:

"Dear Mr. McLaughlin, I was a proud graduate of- ugh! Ah! Kyaaaa! Uwaa! W-w-what's this... huge goddamn bee doing here?! Eek, pardon my foul language! It's just that, as I told you earlier, being stung by a bee would kill me.... and now it's stung me thrice (three times)!!

What do I do?! I can't die... I've always wanted to attend your beautiful college...

But this is... the end...

Mr. McLaughlin...

*looks at you sadly*

Tell... my mother... I loved her...

*dies*"

He never responded, probably because he was rendered speechless, but I never touched that account again.

My private gmail for fun stuff like tumblr still has "Alexander" as a surname, though.

4. Wild and Authentic

Alright. Alright. So. My art teacher in middle school.

Right off the bat, they endeared themselves to the tumblr art kids- they proudly used they/them pronouns, dyed their hair vibrant colors, deeply encouraged OC creation, and was chill with any art style even if it was anime. Mx. Mason was very cool, except for one thing.

We had complete artistic freedom when it came to their assignments, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING.

Drumroll, please.

Take a deep breath if you must.

Ready?

...

Cats had to have extremely distinct whisker pores.

YES, they believed that modern depictions of cats were too streamlined. Too... idealized. As a cat owner themselves, they were convinced that society's vision of cats did not do their feral feline ancestors justice. In making their faces flawlessly smooth-furred, we were stripping the cat of its true nature.

I found this out the hard way, when I was drawing warrior cats fanart for class (it was of Firestar cuddled in the arms of an orange haired anime catgirl who was his reincarnation in my first ever comic series, Warriors Neko Desu! ♡ Heart Academy Dokidoki).

Mx. Mason came over to look at my magnum opus, and I expected them to have their socks knocked off at my artistic talent. They lifted up my drawing for all to see, and I smugly leaned back in my seat.

Only for them to launch into a passionate lecture about how, in neglecting to draw whisker pores on cats, I was DENYING THIS FICTIONAL CAT OF ITS WILD AUTHENTIC SELF.

My friends absolutely lost it when I told them this story, and there was a period of time when all our discord nicknames were wild and authentic too.

As for Firestar and his counterpart Hoshineko Orenji-chan, I never did give them wild authentic whisker holes, but that's to be expected of a kittypet, I guess.

3. Stan Jungkook Or Whatever

A couple years ago, my family and I flew to Seoul, South Korea, to visit our relatives and teach me more about my heritage. It was very nice! I got to visit shrines and festivals and palaces, and I was in awe that this was what my ancestors had once seen in their daily lives.

Then, when we went to the modern side of Korea, I realized just how much I didn't fit in.

It was clear that I didn't know how to act, or how to speak Korean, and I spent my days fumbling around and getting scammed multiple times by salesmen. But I clowned myself the most... during an interactive event with kpop stars.

They had this experimental event where holograms of the boys would sing onstage and dance in place of the actual idols. Before the show began, girls could stand in booths that scanned their appearances, and holograms of THEM could dance onstage with the hologram boys.

I didn't know this.

When Cousin Ae-cha told me to step inside one of the machines, I thought I'd be hilarious and stand backwards, so it would scan the back of me instead of my front. As I walked out, I saw other girls putting on their best makeup, cutest clothes, and most expensive accessories, and I slowly realized that I was in danger.

But the danger didn't come until halfway through the concert, where the boys looked eagerly off-stage and a holy staircase appeared and all the hologram girls descended from heaven. There were cherry blossoms. There were roses. There was me, among the crowd of beautiful airbrushed girls, walking backwards.

I felt the judgemental gazes of twenty girls and their mothers.

Each boy danced with a girl, who got a cute animated moment with special effects, and sang about how they found a dream girl to have a true love romance with. Finally, all the girls vanished except one, and it was me.

One of the boys didn't dance with any girls, and now he was all alone in the rain, feeling dejected that HE did not find his true love girl to have a dream romance with. Then the rain stopped, the sun came out, and I emerged. Still backwards.

He was thrilled and sang about how my face (that he didn't see) stole his heart, and now everyone in the audience was giggling, and he slowly brought me very close to kiss me... but because I was backwards, his nose was cutely nuzzling my hair.

The audience members- at least the adults- were now laughing their asses off. His lips met the back of my head, and together we vanished into the wind.

I'd say I couldn't show my face there ever again, but I never did show my face, so... hm...

2. Horrid Little Temptress

If I wasn't a minor, I'd need a drink before starting this story. Sadly, I cannot drown my sorrows- and neither should you after you hear this, because it's only fair.

Mrs. Appleby was my Spanish teacher in like, 9th grade. Even the wild and authentic art teacher thought she was insane. Appleby forced kids to brew tea for her and yelled at them when they didn't get it right, and I thought she had a chronic squint until I realised she just did that to mock me and my Asian eye-folds. She forced us to watch Dora the Explorer to "absorb knowledge." Everyone fucking hated Mrs. Appleby.

But the worst thing she ever did... was during the school festival.

See, whenever she's angry, she zooms right into kids' faces to scream at them. Her wrinkled flesh would blot out the goddamn sun and all you see are her bloodshot yellow eyeballs so victims just stayed rooted to the spot like cornered animals or something similar. This is important.

Because when she was sampling her own brownies (read: hoarding them so no one else could eat them), one parent foolishly decided to grab one and she thought it was a student and she grabbed his wrist so hard she could've nearly snapped it and... and... zoomed into his face.

Except she underestimated his height and kissed him by accident, but it was more like her mouth was sucking in his face like a vacuum.

His wife was shrieking like an ape. His kid, my classmate, saw his social life flash before his eyes.

In her defense, she did not mouth to mouth with him on purpose and afterwards she cried in the bathroom and when I foolishly followed her in to comfort her, because I am a teacher's pet through and through, she snatched the paper towels I got for her and wailed that she was a-

A-

HORRID LITTLE TEMPTRESS.

If I had decided to not be kind, I never would've heard that string of fucking words. But I did. And I paid for it dearly. The end.

1. Violence IS The Answer, Sometimes

Thomas, my dearly detested.

Back in sixth grade, I used to have a crush on him because he had the surfer boy look with nicely tanned skin and pale blond hair and the clearest aquamarine eyes I've ever seen. He also liked surfing and swimming. He seemed like the perfect little trophy waifu except for one absolute dealbreaker.

He and his parents were extremely conservative and so, when I told him I liked him, his response was basically "haha no you're a [slur] and would probably eat my dog."

I was horrified and ran away to cry. But then, by the next day, I decided I needed to punish him. Thomas walked in before class started and I was waiting for him with these hands. I kicked him so he doubled over, slammed his face into his chair's seat, and quickly clambered on top of him to SIT ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. He started shaking and twitching and trying to pry me off, but eventually he went limp and stopped moving.

I thought he fell asleep, but Mohammed, another classmate who was bullied by Thomas, told me that Thomas might never wake up again (not that he was very sad about this. I didn't know until later, but Thomas said slurs at him too).

While I was sitting on the guy, he'd straight up passed out from the lack of oxygen.

Screaming and crying, I told our homeroom teacher that Thomas suddenly fainted, and she was the type of Caucasian that thought all little Asian kids were sweet and innocent, so it didn't even cross her mind that? It might've been me? Who sat on his head when she walked in?

He was sent home early that day. I had to go to a different school next year because Thomas's mom threatened legal action. The only reason I didn't get punished further was because my rich cousins out-Karen'd her and donated a huge amount of money to the school to keep them quiet.

Anyway, I never did anything that insane ever again, because something like that is enough for a lifetime. My cousins made it clear they would never back me up again. I was sure this whole event would be put behind me, too.

But last fall, during my first day of online learning... who did I see in my zoom meeting... BUT THOMAS! I had my mic and camera off, but the moment he saw my name, his face went pale. His soul would've left his body, but then it would've gone to hell, so it wisely decided to stay inside.

Still, out of shame and embarrassment, I never turned my camera on for the rest of the school year.

[sope-and-shine]

The Right of a King: Pt. 2

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 18.7k  -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, misogyny still exists, overuse of the word wench but not by Namjoon, brief mention of death, brief mention of illness, Jimin is STILL that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money and your boyfriends money - but will anyone complain? no. , kdrama ending - if you know you know, mild violence

a/n: Thank you @sakuraguks-main​ for checking this out before posting! You really came in clutch for this one 

also i SWEAR NAMJOON WILL GET A HAPPY ENDING 

Part 1 // Masterlist

*

*

*

Who would have thought that your life could turn up like this? You didn’t have any intention of ever falling for the man who literally scared the shit out of you when you first met him, but now you can’t help but blush when you think about him. The look of content he has when he views a new exhibit, the gentle smile he shares with you when you bring him food for the night. Some of his mannerisms are still very annoying, but he’s much more endearing than you initially gave him credit for.

He’s lightened up over the past few days as you’ve grown to know each other more. You’ve put in an effort to not patronize him, and he’s made a much greater effort to not to offend you with comments regarding your gender. Teaching him about misogyny was a night you won’t forget.

You spent half an hour just teaching him how your phone worked. Thankfully, he grasped the concept that it was much like the kiosks around the museum, only the smaller device did much more. You also threw in a quick explanation on the internet and it’s wonders, using that very interesting lesson to segway into your talk about women of power.

The woman on the screen throws another punch into the man’s jaw, cutting up and effectively knocking him back into the cage surrounding the ring. She advances on him and continues to throw punch after punch until a call is made and she steps back into her corner.

“Is he dead?” Namjoon asks, watching the man crumple to the ground through the tiny screen.

You chuckle at his assumption, “Not dead, but he’ll definitely feel all of those tomorrow when he wakes up.”

“She has excellent precision!” He praises, “I can’t believe the women of this era are so fierce.” He taps the screen to try to rewind the video like you showed him before, but he can’t seem to tap the screen just right. He huffs, “Infernal contraption…”

You laugh at him and he glares at you, “You think this is funny?”

“No! Not at all~” You say, all the while trying to hold your laughter back.

Namjoon is unimpressed with your amusement and pushes at your shoulder, “Don’t be so childish.”

He’d usually get annoyed with you when you’d laugh at his shortcomings and achievements. Every huff over the kiosk and every curious press of the button at the water fountain is met with a small giggle from you. You just can’t help it when his eyebrows furrow and a little pout appears on his face, and you’d found it harder to ignore his excited little dance when he did something new. 

“Alright, I’ll stop.” 

Despite annoying the king to no end, he did enjoy your lesson for him. He also learned that he enjoyed boxing and the political diplomats of the 21st century. For some reason, both seemed to go hand in hand for him, but you weren’t going to question his sudden enjoyments of your world. He was known to read and write in his free time before his death - not to mention the battles he faced when the situation arose. Introducing him to women proving their strengths in both probably ignited a fire that he hadn’t been able to experience since before his death. 

As a way to help him, you decide to bring him a notebook and some felt tip pens. It wouldn’t be like anything he was used to, but it would give him an outlet for himself. Sure he had you to talk to, but you weren’t exactly ideal. With a pen and paper, he’d be able to write out his own thoughts and feelings for himself. He wouldn’t have to worry about holding it all in or hoping you’ll understand how he feels.

Handing them to him is a nerve wracking experience itself. This wasn’t just walking around the museum to look at the exhibits as an act of kindness, this was a gift. He didn’t ask for it, and you were so nervous that he wouldn’t even like color.

“What are these?” he asks, taking the bag from your hand. He opens the top and looks inside, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I stopped by the store on my way here.” You grab the top of the bag and pull it towards you, letting him hold it open so you can pull out the materials inside. You show him the light blue cover of the notebook and flip it open to showcase the pages, “It’s a notebook so you can write down your thoughts when you don’t want to say them to me.”

“I see.” He nods in understanding. He looks into the bag and reaches in to pull out the felt tipped pen you’d bought just for him. He looks even more confused than he had before, holding the plastic container between his fingers. “This is what you’re using to write with now?”

“It’s called a pen.” You set the notebook back in the bag and take the pen from him, pulling the cap off so he can see the tip. You draw a line on the back of your hand before showing him the mark you made, “They put all the ink inside one part so you can write with this part. The cap is so your ink doesn’t dry or bleed out.”

You hand him the open pen and let him try, allowing him to draw on your hand so he can try it himself. Seeing the black line appear in one clean stroke by his own hand, he becomes mesmerized, “Genius.”

“At the end of the night, you can tuck them away by your feet so you can keep them close. Just make sure the pen clicks when you put the cap on.” You explain. You hand him the cap to the pen and watch him carefully put it back in place, laughing when he flinches at the clicking sound. “Did that scare you?”

“It most certainly did not! It was just too loud!” He argues, attempting to defend his pride.

“Oh, no! The great King Kim Namjoon is afraid of a teeny tiny pen!” You tease, laughing at his expense.

“I am not scared of the pen!” He whines, unamused by your teasing. You continue to poke fun at him, even as he protests against you.

CRASH

A loud, metallic clanging interrupts your small dispute. Before you can even turn your head to see what it could have been, Namjoon grabs your arm to pull you into his embrace. He has your face pressed against his firm chest, a hand cradling the back of your head to hold you close. You can feel his muscular arms through the thin fabric of his shirt pressing against your back to keep you in place and protected from whatever danger may be lurking in the hall.

“What is that?” He asks, more to himself than for you.

“-Ah owno!” You mumble against his chest, unable to properly pronounce your words. You push against his chest and tap his sides until he finally lets you move back far enough for you to try again, “I don’t know.”

Namjoon pulls you over to a display case - the one that runs parallel to the kiosk wall - and presses your back against the wood. He looks around the case before he turns back to you with the most concern you’ve seen on him since you’ve met. “Stay here.” 

“No.” You try to push him off, but Namjoon’s grip is firm. 

He levels his face with yours, “(Y/n), I’m not letting you put yourself into potential danger!” 

“Namjoon, that’s my job!” You remind him, “If someone is out there, then I need to report it! Let me go.” 

You try your best to push against him, not wanting to use excessive force if you really don’t have to. Only Namjoon still refuses to budge, “No. You can’t protect yourself properly, I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh, I can’t protect myself?” You ask. In all fairness, he’d never seen you in action besides when you first met, and you could only manage to scream and back away from him at the time. Now, you were in a real situation that required your immediate attention, and he was mocking you for not being strong enough!

“No, you ca-Ah!” Instead of allowing him to continue, you kick your right leg out and wrap it behind his, pulling it towards you as you push against his shoulders at the same time. He falls to the floor with a thud.

“Now, how about you stay here and I’ll go check out what’s going on?” You suggest, leaning over him as he holds the back of his head.

He tries to sit up and falls back down with a grunt, “Yeah...that sounds like a good idea.”

You leave Namjoon lying on the wooden planks and go to investigate the sound. You pull your flashlight from your belt loop and peek around the entryway. The hall itself is completely empty, no signs of anyone having been in the hall. Making small, quiet steps to the next exhibit, you see that it’s gate is still intact and locked just as you had left it. 

A hand places itself on your shoulder and you don’t hesitate to kick behind you. You turn over your left shoulder to hit your assailant in the neck, but you quickly stop when you see it’s only Namjoon who’s bent over himself behind you.

“Namjoon!” You rush forward to comfort him, holding his arm with one hand and rubbing his back. “I am so sorry.”

He applies pressure to his shin where a patch of dirt is left from your shoe. He looks up, “You are surprisingly good at that.” 

You bend down, leaning over yourself to look at Namjoon on his level, “Yeah, self defense classes come in handy for everyday criminals. They don’t really teach you what to do when an ancient mummy breaks free from his coffin.”

“Sarcophagus.” He corrects.

You scoff, “Is there really a difference?” 

“Ow...” 

You and Namjoon exchange a worried glance, unsure of what to think. The hall was empty and the exhibit was still locked, so whoever spoke had to have been hiding within the exhibit and you’d missed them during your sweep. They wouldn’t be the first to try, but they would be the first success. You’ll be lucky if Hoseok and Yoongi don’t fire you on the spot when they get here. 

You move to the gate, “Alright, you’ve had your fun-” 

You stop.

Looking at the exhibit from the doorway, you don’t see anyone at all. No human being stands anywhere within the exhibit. However, the artifacts that line the room are more than just the usual ‘eye catching’ that patrons would describe them as.  

They’re alive.

It’s truly a scene from a movie, watching the paintings on the wall move in ripples as their paint begins to stretch with every push against their canvas’. Statues along the rooms edges move with ear-piercing screeches and subtle creaks, their bodies slowly moving of their own volition. In the next room over, the statues move as well. Extraordinary and familiar, you can’t help but to stare in awe at the scene before you.

Namjoon shares the same sentiments, only he’s even more amazed, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” He asks. His jaw is slack and brown eyes as wide as a curious child. Between the both of you, he should be the one that’s used to the scene.

You can’t help but nudge him, “Now you know how I felt.”

He shakes his head, still enraptured in wonder, “It’s amazing~”

“Yeah…” You look over the room, watching the pieces that can move freely begin to roam. Each one is different as they allow their curiosity to take over. They remind you of Namjoon the second night he had been awake; each confused yet determined to learn more about their surroundings.

In the second room over - the one that connects to the exhibit - you find only a few of the artifacts have also come to life. It’s strange, but you don’t question the magic of the supposed moon goddess. Instead, you and Namjoon enjoy the new company given to you through the night, and you ensure they return to their rightful places at the end of the night.

* * *

“He told those children that I rode tigers around my palace in my freetime! I did no such thing!” Namjoon rages, arms flailing about. With each angry word, his arms move back and forth as if they’re constructing an invisible masterpiece,  “I protected and rehabilitated it! I imprisoned many a man that sought those beautiful creatures for such purposes, and I will not accept such ridiculous claims against me!”

Neither you, nor Namjoon had gone to the exhibit next door. He’d been on a tangent about Jeongguk’s inaccuracies since you met him at his gate and he pulled you in. Apparently, he’d woken up during the day, unable to remain asleep. He’d spent quite a bit just thinking in the dark while casually listening to the conversations that happened beyond his resting place. He’d heard a couple argue, two friends making fun of his portrait, and even an elderly woman paying her respects to him. But no conversation he heard was as important to him as Jeongguk’s ‘outrageous’ claims to a group of random school children.

“It’s like he thinks I am a joke! Am I a joke?” He turns to you with such a heated glare, you almost feel bad when your face breaks into a smile. Namjoon seems to pick up on your thoughts when he sees this and his frown forms into a thin line, “Nevermind, I don’t wish to hear your opinion anymore.” 

“You shouldn’t take it to heart. Jeongguk isn’t the most educated person among the museum staff.” You say, attempting to reassure him. However, it only seems to anger him more.

“Why not? He works in one of the most wonderful places in the world, and he chooses to ignore the precious history around him?!” He spits, resembling the same king you had first met. His hardened gaze was nothing but cold and spiteful, “How selfish can he be to not take advantage of such a wonderful opportunity?”

“Woah, chill out. Jeongguk isn’t the brightest tool in the shed, but he’s one of the most hardworking!” You defend. You knew better than anyone that Jeongguk was not the best candidate for the job, but he was always looking to improve. Above everything, he always put his everything into studying the exhibits - even if it wasn’t spot on, “Sure, the information may not stick or he may not remember it exactly as it is, but he’s a nice kid.”

“I just don’t see why he’s perfectly fine with learning it wrong.” Namjoon takes a moment to think, really thinking about what you said before he continues, “If I were him, then I would do everything I possibly could to learn about these exhibits and that my information is accurate.”

Your expression softens and Namjoon sighs, “I just want to know more about this world. If I am to be stuck in this era, then I want to experience it all for myself! I want to know what I’ve missed.”

What do you say to him? A simple ‘I’m sorry’ will only go so far. There’s only so much you can do for him in his current situation. If you could let him leave then you would, but he has no papers, no family, and no experience. He’d be forced to leave without question if someone found him as he is now, but you can’t decide if that would be worse than keeping him locked away in the museum for the rest of his life. If you were forced to, you’d go crazy. To think about being stuck in his position…?

“Namjoon-!” You try to speak up, but his hand raises to stop you.

“It’s alright. I know you can’t do anything to help me.” His smile is bittersweet as he shows it to you, his dimples nowhere near his cheeks. He clears his throat and stands, “I think I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight. I��d like to be alone.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting him to be alone.

“I’m sure.” He nods his head and hands you his empty food box, “I’ll see you tomorrow as usual.”

You allow him to walk away from you, disappearing to the back of his exhibit with a certain stiffness. It’s like he’s reverted into the shell of the king he was that first night, only this one is choosing to hide from you this time. Even when you leave and wish him goodnight, he doesn’t say it back. He isolates himself, and you’re disappointed to find he’s still by himself when you come back at the end of the night. 

Even after the other exhibit is double checked and the morning shift arrives to clock in, you’re still thinking about Namjoon. Especially when Jeongguk arrives with his morning coffee order. It was hard to not think about what he had said and the experiences he was missing out on. There was so much he could be doing, but instead he was locked away like a caged animal.

You mull over these thoughts as you replace your security jacket with your outside coat. They weigh heavy on your mind even as the break room begins to fill with the morning shift. You’re so distracted, you almost miss Hoseok greeting you.

“(Y/n)! Have a good night?” He asks, unaware of your own personal conflict.

You nod in return, “Yeah! It was as eventful as usual.”

“I bet the air conditioner kicking on really gave you a run for your money.” Taeyang jokes, reminding you of your first shift on the job when he had helped to train you.

“Oh, doesn’t it always.” You reply, a light roll of your eyes expressing your amusement. You set your flashlight on the top shelf and close your locker. Turning back to the table where your things lie, you look at Hoseok, “Did you find anyone for the night shift?”

“No, not yet.” He says. Only this time, it’s almost a relief to know you get to keep Namjoon to yourself for just a bit longer. 

You nod and grab your bag off the table, “Okay, just keep me in the loop.”

“Actually-!” Hoseok stops you before you get too far, “You’ve been working a lot of hours and I really appreciate your hard work. Why don’t you take the weekend off and I’ll cover your shift.”

“Oh!” You contemplate his offer for only a moment, “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” He asks, his head tilting to the side.

You know he means well, but all you can think about is Namjoon waiting for you to show up and being greeted with Hoseok instead. You don’t even bother to think about the exhibit next to his that’s also come to life. If Hoseok finds Namjoon, then he’ll call the police and then you’ll never see him again.

You smile, trying to mask your nerves, “I mean, are you sure? That’s two whole nights-”

“-Three!” He interrupts, “You deserve a break and I’m not taking no for an answer. Go out to a club or something. Stay home and watch a drama. Do something other than sit in the office and have fun.”

You honestly haven’t thought about doing anything fun since you’ve started to appreciate Namjoon’s presence more. If anything, you’d rather spend the nights at the museum with Namjoon rather than at home alone. 

That’s when the idea hits you.

If you take Friday off, then you can sneak Namjoon out Friday morning. You can take him home with you and show him what the outside world is really like, rather than him watching from a window. You could take him to try street food, the Han River, the sea. There’s so much that you could show him, but you only have so much time to do so.

You agree to Hoseok’s offer and wave goodbye, for once walking out of the museum with some pep in your own steps. Later that night when you return, you’ve added a tape measure to your bag of things. Namjoon is more than confused when you accost him before giving him his food for the night.

“Am I having something tailored?” He asks, his body tense as you place the measuring tape against his shoulder.

“No, but I am buying you clothes.” You say, looking at the measurement you got so you can record it as well. 

“What for?” He asks.

You look away from your phone for only a moment, meeting his eyes before you turn back to your screen, “Do you want to see more of today’s world, or do you want to stay in this museum?”

“You’re taking me out?” You can practically see the excitement in his features without even looking at him. It makes you happy to know he’s happy, but at the same time, you know it might mean more to both of you than you’re willing to admit.

“Just for the weekend.” You tell him. You take his food out of the bag you brought and hand it over, “This is just a friendly gesture, so don’t think anything of it.”

“I won’t. Promise.” His smile is taught, and you know he’s disappointed more than anything to hear the words leave your mouth. But at least you’ll be able to make him smile in less than 48 hours.

“Good.” You grab your own food and take the initiative to sit down first, “I’ll figure the rest out later, but I need to make sure I can convince the other exhibit not to move for the next 3 nights tonight.”

“I’ll help you!” He insists.

That night when the both of you finish eating, Namjoon assists you in talking to the other exhibit. He uses the moment to work on his social skills once again, pretending that he’s speaking to other humans of the modern age. It’s both amusing and heartwarming to watch him, the bright smile he offers to every living artifact that he speaks to. Even more so, they each treat him with so much respect and kindness. To them, he is a king, and they have no problem treating him as such.

Even after you’ve talked to everyone and you’ve closed the exhibit for the night, you spend your night walking the museum halls with Namjoon. You let him practice with modern slang sheets you found on the internet while you order clothes to pick up for him, stifling your laughter when he uses words you’d never heard anyone his age use. It’s endearing to listen to him practice, and it excites you to know you’ll get to show him his first real glimpse of the world so foreign to him.

It’s all you can think about on your way home, before you go to sleep, and when you wake up in the afternoon. Waiting in line to pick up his clothes, you can only think about Namjoon waiting in line. You think about the mistakes he might make and the blush on his cheeks when he realizes he made a mistake. Walking along the sidewalk, you think about Namjoon seeing a car up close for the first time. Would he be scared? Would he try to break into one?

You’ll be keeping a very close eye on him around cars.

Your coworkers give you curious stares as you walk in with more bags than usual, but none press you about what you’re doing with them. Everything is moving seamlessly, and even Taehyung gives you an easy time kicking him out of the museum. You thought Namjoon would give you a hard time as well, but you’re pleasantly surprised when the man giddily takes the bags from you.

You leave him to put on the first outfit you picked for him, leaving his exhibit open to come find you when he’s done. The whole night that you spend finishing your paperwork and your rounds for the night, reminding the other exhibit that they have to be still for the next few days. When you finally catch up to Namjoon again, you’re almost speechless to see him in casual clothing. If you’d known a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and a simple green jacket would look so good, you would have bought them for him the second day you’d known him.

“Do I look okay?” He asks, unsure of himself in the new style of clothes.

“Perfect! Now, follow me.” You both leave his exhibit, you locking the gate before leading him down the stairs. You take him all the way to the lower level storage space where new exhibit pieces are loaded from the large dock doors. You find the right key for the padlock and open one side just enough for the both of you to look through. “You wait out here on that bench right over there. Don’t leave that bench.”

“Why not?” He asks.

You shrug, “Because I said so.” 

“I am a king!” He reminds you, puffing his chest more than necessary.

You shake your head, “And I'm the queen of I don’t give 2 shits. Go park yourself on that bench and stay there or I’ll end you myself.” You push him out the door and wave him off, Namjoon stumbling to catch his balance.

“Well, you don’t have to be so violent.” He grumbles, dusting himself off, “I will not remove myself from the bench until you allow me to do so, queen of not giving 2 shits.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, paying his scowl no mind. You close the door, but you open it once more before he gets too far, “I’ll be out soon.”

You lock the dock doors back up and rush yourself upstairs, double checking the exhibit to make sure everything is in place and there’s no trash left about. You return to security and clean up your own belongings, waiting only 15 minutes before your morning shift comes to liberate you. Packing up and clocking out is a breeze, sparing only a moment to say goodbye to those who greet you. All of your focus is on returning to Namjoon before he decides to wander off.

Going through the employee entrance, you walk along the side of the building to get to the back. It only takes you a minute along the sidewalk before you make it to the bench where the king sits in his new clothes. He sits with his usual pristine posture, watching the cars and people pass in front of him. He reminds you of a child - a very overgrown child - watching the world around him for the first time. It’s almost as if for the first time he’s seeing everything in color, and every sight is one to cherish.

“Enjoying the view?” You ask, catching him off guard.

He jumps at first, but his shoulders relax when he realizes it’s just you. He nods, “Yeah. It’s different in the light.”

“Things usually are.” You agree. You let him rake his eyes over the city, allowing him to experience the early morning beauty for just a few moments longer. He looks so at peace with the world seeing a true sunrise for the first time since he last walked the Earth. His lungs taking in large breaths of fresh air instead of the cold museum air that he’s grown accustomed to. Pair it with his new clothing, he looks as though he’s spent his whole life in the 21st century with you.

When you feel a yawn crawling up on you is when you decide it’s time to leave, “Let’s go back to my place to get some sleep and then I can show you everything you’ve been missing.”

You can tell he’s reluctant to go, his entire body tensing as his hand unintentionally grips the bench as if it would ground him there for just 5 minutes more. But instead of voicing his desire to stay, he nods and stands to join you, “I would be honored to be shown to your apartment.”

—-

It’s just past 1:30 in the afternoon when you wake up, the soft melody of your alarm ringing in the small confines of your loft. The rays of sun coming from your apartment windows hits the decor of your loft just right, bouncing off of your mirror and sending a sliver of light to cover your eyes. You’re more than tempted to hit snooze and turn yourself over to catch just a few more precious hours of sleep, but the lingering thoughts of showing Namjoon what your world has to offer him are much more desirable.

You pull yourself out of bed and stumble into your house slippers, your left foot missing the sock you’d fallen asleep with. You allow yourself to stretch your arms above your head before you walk downstairs, finding the King exactly where you had left him on your couch. Though, instead of sitting as stiff as a board, he’s folded over the arm of your couch with one arm clutching the blue koala throw pillow you’d bought online - You can only imagine how long he sat on your couch holding the same posture before he finally passed out.

You decide to let him continue resting and get yourself ready for the rest of your day. You take a quick shower, doing your face routine in between the shampooing, the conditioning, and the scrubbing. You dry most of your hair with a towel before leaving it to air dry while you throw on some jeans and a sweater and some light makeup to enhance your features. When that’s done, you head back to the living room to wake up the peaceful king.

“Namjoon-” You shake his shoulder gently, not wanting to startle him. You nudge his shoulder and call his name a few times before his eyes flutter open and close, “Namjoon, we have a lot to do in very little time! You have to get up so we can get some food!”

“Have the food brought to my room, Jihye…” Namjoon mumbles, his face contorting as his eyes squeeze shut and his arms pull the pillow closer to him.

You giggle at the way his nose scrunches, “I’m not Jihye, your majesty. You’re not in your time period anymore, remember?” 

The king’s eyes open and you’re met with tired brown eyes. For a moment, there’s an air of sadness as he takes in your appearance, but it leaves as quickly as it appears. He sits up quick and stretches his arms above his head, his white t-shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin.

You turn away from him, feeling the embarrassment climb to your ears as you walk towards the door, “You should put your jacket back on so we can go and eat.”  

“Yes! I’m starving,” He says. He follows you to the front door where both of your shoes sit, sliding on the laceless shoes you’d bought for him.

You put on your own before you grab your jackets out of the closet, “Here.” You hand him his and unbunch yours to slip it on.

“Let me!” Namjoon drops his own jacket in favor of yours, straightening the article of clothing for you to put on. 

You only stare at him in awe, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to,” he explains, his dimpled smile gracing his cheeks. You let him hold the jacket for you, allowing him to help guide your arms into the sleeves. The whole time you’re trying to hold your breath, as if even one hitch or loud exhale would give away your thoughts or feelings. His hands smooth the shoulders of your coat down before they're gone and he’s picking up his own jacket, “Good?”

“Yeah! Good.”

It’s only a small walk to the cafe a block from your apartment. Upon arrival, you try your best to figure out what drink would best suit Namjoon’s tastes. He didn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth, but he didn’t enjoy the bitter drinks you’d brought him either. You eventually settle on ordering him an americano and letting him choose a sandwich to eat. Neither of you talk much as you eat together, you instead let Namjoon enjoy the new atmosphere and the view from the window as he eats. It’s when he bumps his plate off the table and sends it splattering against the concrete floor that you decide it’s best to leave for the aquarium ahead of schedule.

You pull him to the bus stop as the bus rolls to a stop, only waiting in the line for a moment before you file onto the bus behind everyone else. As you turn your phone to scan the bus pass on the back of your case, you feel a tug on your other hand.

“(Y/n)!” Namjoon whispers harshly.

“What?” You ask, nervously eyeing the bus driver as you scan the pass again.

“Is this safe?” He asks.

“Namjoon-” You laugh. Of course he would think it isn’t safe. Hell, on the right day you don’t either! You pull him down the aisle to find a seat at the back of the bus to sit down before you answer his question, “Of course this is safe. I know it’s loud and it shakes, but I wouldn’t put you in any unnecessary danger.”

“You’re right,” He sighs. He squeezes your hand, his deep brown eyes meeting your own, “I trust you.”

The words alone are enough to make your stomach twist into knots. You feel warm and tingly and you quickly find something outside of the bus to catch his attention instead, “Look-” You point in front of his face, finding an intricate statue in front of a building approaching, “-isn’t that cool!?”

He turns to admire the sculpture and you take in a much needed breath. Keeping him distanced from you was going to be an issue. Even if you do fall for him and you never take him back to the museum, how would you explain where he’s from? How would he get a job? How would he be able to do anything other than live in your home if he wasn’t a real person anymore? 

“Where are we going?” Namjoon asks, pulling you from your inner turmoil.

You can’t help but smile, knowing that this will be one of the best surprises for the King since you’d brought him his journal, “I’m going to take you to see something you’ve never seen before.”

After quite a few stops and many questions from Namjoon, you finally get off of the bus in front of the tall blue building. Over the doors reads ‘Seoul Aquarium’ in colorful lettering, standing out against the plain white of the sign.

“Aquarium?” Namjoon reads, his head tilted in confusion. He turns to you with his skeptical gaze, “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll show you?” You offer, squeezing his hand that’s still connected to your own.

The both of you enter the building and you’re immediately surrounded by a dim atmosphere highlighted by waves of light that glisten off the floor and the walls. The white walls of the interior are decorated by multiple pictures and colorful murals. The ceiling - high and vaulted - holds a large models of different fish suspended, the portion closest to the ground protected by a small fence in the center of the room. Multiple exhibits lay beyond, but a quick trip through the ticket line holds you back.

You guide Namjoon through the roped off line to get your tickets, but his attention doesn’t leave the main room the entire time. His eyes dance over every detail of the room while you wait in line and as you speak to the teller in the booth for your tickets. Even as you lead him into the room itself, his eyes are still trying to catch every last square inch. With the king thoroughly distracted, you take the chance to look at the aquarium’s layout to see which way you should go first.

There were of course the sharks and the dolphins, they would definitely surprise the king to see ‘a beast’ so large. Then again, there were the jellyfish and the underwater walkways as well, mesmerizing and unthinkable for him as a man of another century. But the intractable exhibits would be so much more exciting for him to experience, being able to really touch sea animals you wouldn’t normally be able to. It’s all so wonderful to think about, but where to start is going to really set the stage for him.

And you know just what will make him happiest.

“Namjoon-” He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours, fleeting to the side to see one more piece of art for just a moment before they’re on yours again. You giggle, “-are you ready to see the first exhibit?” He nods and you lead the way to your first stop. 

On the right side of the building is another line of people, all waiting patiently to enter past a rubber curtain maintained by an employee standing behind a podium. As you wait, Namjoon begins to bounce, becoming restless until he can’t stop himself from asking, “Is this another museum?”

“It is!” You nod, “Only the exhibits here are supposed to be alive.” Namjoon’s cheeks darken and you can’t stop the endeared smile that adorns your own features, “I think you’ll really like this, Namjoon.”

When it’s finally your turn to walk through the rubber curtain, you enter a narrow hallway encase in darkness - save for the glow in the dark tape on the floor. You have to pass through another curtain made of rubber before you finally enter the glass encased tunnel that barricades the both of you from the water that rests above you. It’s dimly lit just like the rest of the building, but the most striking difference isn’t the atmosphere.

It’s the various schools and pairs of fish that swim carelessly around the glass.

Namjoon is in awe just watching the vibrantly colored fish go over him, seeing all kinds of fish of different shapes and sizes only mere inches from his face. He reaches his hand for the glass and pulls back upon feeling it’s cool touch, not expecting it to be so cool.

“How is this possible…?” He asks, his tanned skin lit by the soft blue hues that shine through the glass.

You shrug, “I’m not really sure how they do it myself, but it’s amazing, right?”

Namjoon turns to you, a look of pure wonder and amazement painted on his face, “It’s gorgeous.”

---

It took you almost an hour just to pull him away from the tunnels, but you managed to drag him past the seahorses, the sharks, and the dolphins. Each creature was just as fascinating for him as the other, and every laugh and smile he made had your stomach doing flips. He makes it so hard to only see him as a friend when he’s just so incredibly adorable every time he sees something new.

Now, as you exit the small projector room playing the same squid documentary over and over again, you lead him to the interactive exhibit. Just from outside the exhibit’s entrance you can see the dozens of tanks that stand in the room with an employee at each one. Only a few families and couples are in the room, making it the perfect environment for Namjoon to explore something new. 

“What’s in here?” Namjoon asks as you approach the new room. 

“In here are the exhibits you can touch and interact with. Do you want to see?” You ask. 

He nods and takes the first step himself, deciding to take the lead as a way to show you he’ll be fine. You follow him into the chaos, making your way over to a box about as tall as your knee where Namjoon stands peering over the side. Inside the box looks to be a mountain of sand with rocks and grass at the bottom and various logs and sticks piled up to be climbed on by whatever creatures call the box their home.

You stop by his side and he turns to you, “Can we start here?” He asks.

“Of course!” You nod, gesturing for him to look at what else is inside.

It takes a minute for the tanks contents to register with you, and then you see the movement in the sand. Little bubbles that move before a hole - much like a dozen others that decorate the sand - is formed that reveals the small, white and yellow crabs.

Upon seeing the tiny creature poke it’s head out, Namjoon’s eyes immediately light up like a child receiving a gift. He reaches his hands out to touch the crab in front of him, but he quickly pulls them back to himself. Turning to you he ask, “Am I allowed to touch them?”

“You don’t need to ask me, Namjoon. This is a touch tank, so you can touch anything in each of these tanks.” You explain.

Just like that, the childlike wonder of the King is back and he’s reaching down to hold the small crab in the palm of his hand. The sight is so endearing. To see him hold the life in the palm of his hand with the utmost care and adoration sends your heart soaring. It makes you wonder if you can really keep a line between being his friend and wanting more.

*

*

*

It’s Saturday, the day after your aquarium escapade. You’d had so much fun just being able to watch Namjoon enjoy something he’d never seen before, and he practically begged you to buy him a book about sea life from the gift shop before you left - a sight you didn’t think you’d see from the King.

He spent his whole night in between trying different foods just reading through all the discoveries humans had made since his time, and at one point he even tried to use your computer to do his own research. His thirst for knowledge of his new surroundings seemed unquenchable, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to learn anything else in hopes that you’ll be able to watch his constant excitement for something new.

Now, as you both sit in another cafe enjoying your lunch, Namjoon seems to have come down from his information kick. He sits across from you eating his sandwich in a content silence as he people-watches from his chair.

You focus on finishing your own sandwich, enjoying the sustenance as you imagine how your trip to the shopping district will go. You can’t help but imagine Namjoon trying some of the newer fashion trends, or see how good he’ll look in a hat. Or maybe he’ll hate shopping and you can take him to experience karaoke for the first time. He won’t know the songs, but it might still be fun.

“-(Y/n)!” Namjoon says harshly, breaking you out of your trance. You turn to him, a piece of bread poking out of your mouth. Namjoon stifles a chuckle and it takes you a moment to realize why he’s laughing at you. 

Quickly you cover your mouth as you finish chewing, your eyes trained on your drink rather than your companion. Once it’s all gone, you turn back to the man in front of you, him sitting with his elbows rested on the table and his face resting on his hands as he watches you. You take a quick sip of your drink before you decide to acknowledge him, “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “I was just wondering about something.” 

“Like what?” You ask.

“You.”

“Me?” You look to him for reassurance that you heard him correctly and he nods. “Why would you want to know about me?”

“Well, you know a lot about me, and most of that is thanks to your technologies of this time period, but-...” He hesitates, playing with his thumbs, “You don’t talk about yourself.”

“There really isn’t much to say. I’ve had a fairly normal life, I’ve had regular experiences, I have regular friends…” When you think about your life compared to what his must have been like, you can’t help but feel insecure about yours. He’s lived a far more fulfilling life than you, and it’s not easy to expose just how dull yours is. “I just don’t think there’s much of my life that would compare to yours.”

“And why is that?”

You spare him a glance, totally unamused by his obliviousness - playful or not, “I don’t know if you noticed, but my apartment is the size of your stables.”

He shrugs, “So what? Your life is so much different from mine! It’s absolutely fascinating to me.” You can only guess what he would find so fascinating about your life when he compares it to yours, but the way he looks at you makes you want to lay it all out on the table for him, “Can’t I know something?”

So you indulge him, telling him stories of your childhood as best as you can remember. The time that your Dad was helping you bake cookies and you set the oven on fire, the day that the family dog got out and sent the neighbor flying, that one time your brother got drunk with his friends an you had to sneak him into the house without your parents knowing - something they still don’t know about. Any weird, funny memory that you could recall, you shared with him, and each one made him laugh and smile and it only encouraged you to share more.

“Wait wait wait-” He says, stopping you in the middle of your story and his own laughter, “So he really said that?”

“Yeah! I swear I thought our professor was going to end him!” You say, recalling the memory of your college friend who told the professor if his manhood wasn’t the size of a pea then maybe he’d be a much happier man.

“Brilliant!” He hits the table with the palm of his hand, “My friends that I had when I lived weren’t as quick witted as yours.”

“No?” You probe.

“They used their swords instead of words,” he explains. He contemplates for a moment before he continues, “Though, their swords did get them far for my time.”

“I can imagine.” You laugh, taking another sip of your almost empty drink.

“Have you felt love before?” Namjoon asks, changing the topic just like that.

“Love?” You choke, your hand pressing against your mouth to stop anymore of your drink from spilling onto your shirt.

“Yeah. Have you had any love interests?” He inquires, turning his full attention back to you.

“Once. When I was in middle school.” You shrug, feeling the intense heat of his state, “It only lasted for a few years, nothing too long.” You hadn’t thought about that relationship for a while. You really hadn’t thought about anyone at all except for him, “He just wasn’t the right one.”

His eyes practically sparkle when you mention your past love not being the one. He smiles, “You believe in finding the right one?”

“I believe in finding someone that blends well with you.” You explain carefully, knowing exactly where he’s going with this.

“But no soulmates?” He asks. 

You can tell he’s saying it in more of a joking way to mask the truth behind his actions. You know he wants you to believe he’s your soulmate and you’re meant to be together, but you just can’t go through with it yet.

You clear your throat and stand up, “We should get going. The movie will start without us if we don’t.”

“Right.” He agrees, standing up after you.

Though, you know neither of you are really finished with the conversation.

It’s much later in your apartment that you think about the conversation again. You’re working on some of your online work while Namjoon watches some movies much like the one you had shown him. It never occurred to you that he might enjoy superhero movies all that much, but seeing him cheer on Spiderman through the screen like the actor could hear him puts a smile on your face. 

The other patrons at the theater did not enjoy his enthusiasm as much as you.

Then again, they didn’t know him. They didn’t get to see his dimples pop out when he saw Thor appear on screen. They didn’t get to see him parade around your apartment in the Ryan pajamas you bought him with his fourth bowl of popcorn. They didn’t get to hear him recall stories of what it was really like to live in a time where none of this existed. They didn’t get to appreciate him.

But at the same time you realize, you haven’t appreciated him either. 

It’s been almost a month since he first woke and claimed you to be his soulmate. In that time, you’ve done your best to understand him and let him roam, but you’ve only been pushing him away. Keeping him at arm's length in hopes of not catching feelings.

Yet...you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to give into the temptation of accepting your role as his soulmate.

—-

“We don’t need to get on the bus today?” Namjoon asks, the last of his breakfast in his mouth.

You shake your head, “Not today. I have something planned that I think you’re going to really enjoy.”

“Is it more food?” You turn to him with a look that is usually saved for Jimin or Taehyung and he just shrugs, “What?”

You sigh, “We can get food there, but we’re not going there for the food. You’ll see.”

You loop your arm through his and continue on down the large sidewalk, enjoying the fresh morning air as you walk your regular path. It’s when Namjoon sees the flower beds that he realizes where you’re taking him and he stops.

“You’re bringing me back to the museum?” He asks, a look of disbelief written across his features.

Sensing why he’s upset you’re quick to shake your head to dissuade the thought, “Not just yet! We still have tonight and tomorrow before you need to go back. I just want to show you what you miss during the day.” Letting go of his arm and instead your hand to him, you smile in hopes it will make him feel more comfortable, “Follow me?”

You lead him up the large staircase, pausing at the top to show him the view and take a few pictures before you go inside. A line like there had been at the aquarium is off just to the side, but you drag Namjoon in the opposite direction.

“Don’t we need to follow them?” He asks

“Employee perk.” You vaguely explain, more interested in getting him into the museum and letting him meet your friends, “Come over this way! I want to talk to someone real quick.”

Jin catches sight of you before you get the chance to even call out to him. He waves to his departing guests and turns to wave to you, “(Y/n)! I thought you had the day off, what are you doing here?”

“I’m showing my friend around the museum, he’s never been here before,” You explain, not missing the way Jin looks Namjoon up and down in his light jeans, black turtleneck, and brown jacket you’d picked up for him. Thankfully, he seems to approve of Namjoon and the clothes you’d picked for him, “Jin, this is Kim Namjoon. Namjoon, this is Kim Seokjin.”

Namjoon gives a curt bow, “Very cool to meet you.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Jin chuckles. He doesn't seem to mind Namjoon’s vernacular as he continues to tease him, “So, Kim Namjoon? Any relation to the King in our 3rd floor exhibit?”

“No, my mother was a history stan.” The king explains.

You share a look with Jin that screams “don’t you dare say anything” and he nods with a fake smile, “How fascinating.” 

“Well-!” Deciding that now is as good a time as any to get him out of there, you squeeze Namjoon's hand with one and wave to Jin with the other, “We should let you get back to work, but it was nice seeing you Jin.”

“You too!” Jin waves back with his familiar, bright smile. Though it fades into a mischievous one just as fast, “Don’t cause too much trouble with your boyfriend~”

You don’t comment on his words, knowing that Namjoon probably wouldn’t get the insinuation behind his words anyway. You just drag him along to the stairs to bring him to the first exhibit you’ll be visiting.

When Namjoon sees the familiar entrance cone into focus, he gasps in excitement, “This is the European exhibit! I’ve been waiting to go through here.”

“Well, today is your lucky day.” You say. You pull him into the exhibit's entrance and notice the empty kiosk to the right of traffic, “C’mon there’s a kiosk over here.”

You go to grab headphones for yourself, but Namjoon is faster than you, “Here-” He takes them out of your hand and places them over your ears for you, a tender smile on his dimpled face as he repeats the action you’d done for him the other night. “There you go.”

He puts his own headphones on and presses play on the video, but you don’t listen. You don’t let the words process. All you can think about is the soft smile that he shared with you and the gentle touch of his hands against your head.

---

You can’t deny that the museum is much more appealing during the day. With all the patrons that walk around enjoying the exhibits, the quiet chatter is low and welcomed to your ears. More importantly, the ability to watch Namjoon enjoy the presence of humans is a gift itself. He’s really come out of his shell over the past few days. He’s enjoyed getting to know people again, and being able to practice his use of modern slang - no matter how horrendous it is. 

Only part of you regrets taking him around to meet Jeongguk. You knew Namjoon wanted to meet him, but it was only for him to school the younger man in a history lesson. Not a hard feat, but nonetheless. It was still a very interesting encounter. 

“And this is really what they used?” He asks, staring at the chair contraption for birthing behind the glass. It was old and rusted - not much to really look at - but he found it interesting anyways. “Strange.”

From another part of the room, you hear a familiar voice speak up, “-and over here you’ll all see a replica of a French Gillotine from France!”

You weren't going to pay him any mind until you noticed Namjoon tense up beside you, “Namjoon?”

“It’s him.” He mutters ominously.

“Jeongguk?” You ask.

“Isn’t it pronounced Guillotine?” You hear someone ask, only for the young guide to laugh, “No, that doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Yes.” Namjoon assures you.

When you turn to spot the boy in the crowd, you see him only a few feet away with his group around him, “Why don’t you all take a moment to look around at the artifacts of the room and I’ll be over here to answer any questions.”

You are more than aware of how Namjoon feels about Jeongguk, even if he is just a kid trying to get through college. With him being right there, it would be impossible to really keep the determined King away, especially with that look in his eyes.

“Do you want to meet him?” You ask, hesitant to really introduce the two to each other.

“Please.” He pushes up the sleeves of his jacket and you try your best to ignore the action, “I’d like to teach this kid a thing or two.”

The brunette walks away from you before you can say anything else and all you can do is follow after him and redirect the conversation. 

“Jeongguk!” You call out, moving in front of Namjoon before he can say anything, “I want to introduce you to my friend Namjoon.”

“Namjoon? Like the mummy?!” He asks immediately, getting excited at the mention of his favorite dead guy, “Bro! That’s a crazy coincidence! He could be your great-great-really great-granddaddy!”

“Please don’t call him that.” You beg.

Namjoon clears his throat, clearly not prepared to deal with Jeon Jeongguk at all, “Yes, well, there is no relation. I am, however, what you would call a pro when it comes to the king.”

“Really?!” The boy only seems to get more and more excited with every word Namjoon speaks to life, “You know, I actually have a lot of questions if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Uh…” The king looks to you and you shake your head, unwilling to help him, “Sure thing?”

“Okay so is it true that when he was a boy he would run around the castle dragging hanbok behind him?! A few historians found in journals left in his tomb that that was something he would do. Do you believe them?!”

A hot blush creeps onto Namjoon’s face, “Uh…Well, you see-”

Watching Namjoon try to explain why he may - or may not have done - without giving Jeongguk too much information was an experience itself, but it paid off. You’d have never thought Namjoon would actually enjoy the conversation, but that was just a part of Jeongguk’s charm. Though, you could have done without Namjoon trying to use ‘lit’ and ‘yeet’ correctly in a sentence against the kid that uses the words every chance he gets. 

Thankfully, the observatory is Jeongguk-free, and you’re more than happy to take Namjoon to see the stars. You let him choose the spot, a space far enough from a group of kids so that the two of you can talk quietly to the other during the showing.

“So what is this again?” He asks, as you both settle into your seats.

“It’s a light show that shows you the stars and their constellations.” You explain, “They even show you planets hundreds and thousands of miles away from ours.”

“Your technology never ceases to amaze me.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great when it needs to be.” You agree. The lights begin to dim and you playfully hit Namjoon’s arm out of excitement, “Oh! It’s starting.”

At the center of the room, the projector comes to life, projecting thousands of dots onto the ceiling. Each one shines and glistens differently, creating an illusion of shimmering like real stars in a night sky. The introduction begins to play, welcoming everyone to the observatory and inviting them to spend the next few minutes enjoying the view of the night sky before the lesson begins.

With this being one of your many trips to the museum’s observatory, you turn to Namjoon to see his reaction instead. Just like the other places you’ve taken him to, he’s very invested into what’s going on in front of him. His eyes glisten in the artificial starlight, and he looks so entranced by the holograms that decorate the ceiling. 

A part of you is screaming at yourself to talk to him. To let him know everything about you. But another part just wants you to keep quiet and stop yourself from getting attached. 

But how can you not want to share everything with him?

You decide for yourself, leaning on the arm rest to get closer to him so you wouldn’t disturb anyone else, “You know, when I was younger-“ He turns to you, “- and I lived in the country, I’d spend every night by my window just to look at the stars.”

“Really?” He asks.

“Mhm! I don’t why, but I’ve just always been drawn to the stars and the mysteries of space.” You admit. You look to the hidden constellations above you and let out a pleasant sigh, “Seeing them just makes me feel at home, you know?”

“I think I do.” He nods, “Thank you for telling me.”

Together you enjoy the calm and quiet of the display, happily listening to the narrator while you sit so close together. No one to bother you, no one to interrupt a peaceful moment. It’s something you’re more than happy to share with Namjoon, feeling much more comfortable than you have before.

Then again, happiness and calm can only last so long when Park Jimin runs the museum gift shop. And right now, y could do without him trying to sell Namjoon every item that catches his eyes though.

“This one is a real keeper! I’m telling you, these pens write like they were made for a god. They’re insane!” Jimin insists, showing Namjoon on a scratch piece of paper just how good they really are.

“Really? And they each have these cool designs?” Unbeknownst to Jimin, Namjoon really doesn’t know the difference between a good or bad pen. He could tell him it had a cap instead of a button and he would be in awe.

Jimin nods, “All of them.”

“Perfect.”

“Jimin!” You interrupt. You gain the attention of both of them and motion for Jimin to come to you, “Come here.” He leaves Namjoon to look on his own and jogs over with a mischievous smile, knowing that you’re frown is not good, “What are you doing?��

“My job.” He says.

You cross your arms, “I brought him here to meet you, not for you to sway him with your manly charms.”

Jimin shrugs, completely unbothered, “It’s not my fault if he falls victim to my tactics~” 

“Oh you are a minx!” You huff, “I don’t see how Yoongi puts up with you.”

“He just makes my schedule and signs my checks. After that, I don’t see him at all.” Jimin explains, bragging more than anything as he begins to clean his counter.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see why.” You mumble. You push your angry thoughts about him away to change the topic so something else. Or more specifically; someone else, “Hey is Tehyung not here? Where is he?”

“He’s sick today,” He tells you, “He called me this morning and asked if I’d keep an eye on his exhibits.”

“And?” 

“And what?”

“Have you?” You pry.

“I love Taehyung. He’s my best friend!” Jimin assures you. He picks up his cleaning towel and throws it in the drawer by his register, replacing it with his phone, “But there’s no way in Hell that I will be spending my free time watching over exhibits that A. Have their own security and B. Don’t move.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I wouldn’t either and it’s my job to watch them.”

“I’d like to get this.” Namjoon says, breaking up the conversation. In his hands he holds a closed box, a box that Jimin showed you the other week.

The box with your necklace.

“Are you sure?” You ask, knowing that the price tag on it was a hefty one.

“Yeah.” He sets the box on the counter and then pulls a handful of cash out of his pocket, thoroughly surprising you.

“Wait, where’d you get this?” You ask.

“There was a nice guy that came in while you guys were talking.” He explains, “He asked who I was buying a gift for and gave me the money when I told him it was for you.”

“Did you get his name or see where he went? I can’t just let him pay that much.” You peer around him to see if the man was still nearby but Namjoon places a hand on your arm.

“He didn’t say. All he said was that I should put it to good use, so I am.” The king explains. He looks into your eyes with a pleading gaze, “Please.”

You’re powerless against his gaze and you nod to Jimin who is more than happy to ring up the over priced package, “One soulmate necklace for the handsome gentleman and his lovely lady.”

Namjoon doesn’t let you carry the bag, he doesn’t even let you touch it until you make it back to your apartment with dinner - that he also insisted on carrying. It’s long after the two of you have enjoyed your dinner that he finally lets you open the bag.

“Are you sure, your majesty?” You tease, earning yourself an unamused frown.

“Yes I’m sure.” He says, handing the bag over for you to take, “Open it.”

You do as he says, opening the bag and pulling out the box carrying the replica of your very own necklace. Lifting the lock and opening the lid, you’re met with the familiar shine of grey moonstones and pink gems held tight by a gold strand. Though, unlike the necklace sitting behind glass, this one has a hidden clasp that is better suited for modern tastes.

You take the shining jewels out of the box and hold it up for the both of you to admire, “It really is beautiful.”

“It’s very convincing.” Namjoon agrees. He takes the necklace from your hands  and gestures to yourself, “May I?”

You're confused until you realize he wants to help you put it on, “Yeah-!” You turn your back towards him so he can place the necklace on you, “Yeah, sure.” 

He’s gentle as he moves his arms around you, letting the jewelry lay flat against your collar before he shuts the clasp. When he taps your shoulder and you turn back around, he looks completely blown away, “Wow…”

“It looks good?” You ask.

He nods, “Come and see for yourself.” He stands up and gestures for you to go look in the mirror with him. 

“Oh…” Standing in front of the mirror actually wearing the necklace, you really see the appeal. How it glistens in the light and the way it lays perfectly against your neck, you’re left speechless. “Wow indeed.”

Both of you stand there in front of the mirror, admiring the way the necklace looks. You had no idea a piece of jewelry could look so right, and now you were glad that if anyone gets to see it on you it’s Namjoon.

“I go back tomorrow? Yes?” He asks, his face head peering over your shoulder in the mirror.

You nod, “You do.”

“Could I-...” He hesitates, “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Any rational side of you would have said no, but you just can’t stop yourself from running with the moment. You turn around so you can look at him face-to-face, “Sure. I’d like that.”

You grab your phone off the table and let him choose a song, knowing he’s quickly made himself his own playlist since being introduced to the 21st century. When you hear the soft instrumental ring through your speakers, you’re not surprised to hear it’s an older western song from the one Avengers movie. He’d fallen in love with it the other day and had been playing the scene over and over again.

“My lady?” He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to accept his offer.

You accept his hand, placing your own in his, “Your majesty.”

He pulls you towards him, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back while you rest your freehand on his shoulder. With small steps you sway together to the beat, letting the smooth sound of the trumpet lull you. Neither of you speak, but the silence isn’t unwelcome. 

Eventually, Namjoon begins to hum. He begins to embrace the beat a bit more, swaying you a bit harder - though not in a rough way - and engaging you more into the song. You giggle as he pulls you against his chest and spins in circles, loudly imitating the voice of the trumpet. His obnoxious noises do little to sway the fun you have, especially when he pulls you away to spin only you instead.

“Namjoon!” You laugh, your hand grabbing his bicep to catch yourself.

“Dada da~! What?” He asks, briefly pausing his imitation to answer you, still insistent on swaying you.

“I thought you wanted to dance?” You remind him through stifled giggling.

“La la-!” He pauses, “I thought this was dancing. La la LA~”

You shake your head and pull your hand away from his, confusing him until you throw both arms around his neck with your head resting on his shoulder. You slow down his excited sways for soft, gentle ones.

“It is, but I like this better.” You mumble, just enough for him to hear you without hearing the embarrassment laced in.

This time Namjoon smiles, resting both hands at the small of your back and pulling you closer, “I think I do too.”

And so, the two of you continue to sway for the rest of the song and however many times it plays after. You take advantage of the moment you have. This moment in his arms. Even if it’s wrong, you allow it to feel right just for tonight. 

“(Y/n)...?” Namjoon whispers.

You pull away, still in his arms but enough for him to see you, “Yeah?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you. His brown eyes staring into yours. It’s so intense it feels like he’s looking for something, like your eyes are a key to finding a hidden treasure. But you don’t ask him what he wants to say, instead you stare back. With eyes locked, he feels like a magnet just pulling you closer and closer until you finally realize that the two of you have inched too close for comfort. Just a little closer and you could feel his breath, touch his cheek…

kiss him

Without a second thought you pull yourself completely away, faking a cough so as not to hurt his feelings.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a reassuring hand coming to lay against your back and it’s fake convulsions.

You nod vigorously, pulling your body away from his touch and moving towards the kitchen, “I’m fine!” You assure him, “I just need some water.”

“Oh.” He says, awkwardly watching you from the living room. He shifts his weight between each foot as you make yourself a drink, “Did you want to continue?”

“Uh, no! I shouldn’t.” You say without thinking. You curse at yourself before you slowly set your cup on the counter and turn around to explain yourself, “I should really get cleaned up and ready for bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

He nods, “Right...I’ll get changed then.” He grabs the folded Ryan pajamas off of your coffee table and gives you an awkward, tight lipped smile, “Goodnight.”

“Yeah. Goodnight…” You say back, only the words feel bitter on your tongue. 

You don’t want to say goodnight.

And you definitely don’t want to take him back.

*

*

*

Sneaking Namjoon back into the museum made your return to the night shift that much worse. It wasn’t that having Namjoon back in the museum wasn’t fine with you - you had already come to terms with that. But it was the constant talk of when he could go back that made it unbearable. You weren’t against the idea at all, but your next break would most likely be when it would be impossible to sneak him out.

It was already a mystery to you that Hoseok didn’t have any strange encounters with exhibits coming to life at all. As soon as the sun was down and you made your way back to Namjoon, you could hear their chatter from the other room as well as more chatter from more exhibits. It’s like over the weekend half of the museum just woke up. It didn’t bother you as much as it had the first night, but it’s still a new concept to grasp.

Even throughout the night you only became more and more tired. At one point, you told Namjoon you’d be in the office resting instead of walking around because you just didn’t have the energy. He understood, of course, but it took you a minute to explain that you just needed to rest alone for the night.

You were more than happy to go home after the first night back. You needed sleep and you needed it as soon as you could get it. You even rushed through your morning duties just to get your morning shift in and get yourself out.

It’s much later, when you’re feeling refreshed and ready for a new day that you find yourself walking into work again with a much better attitude. Walking through the front doors of the museum just sends a wave a peace over you and you embrace it wholeheartedly.

“(Y/n)!” You turn your attention to the sound of the voice, seeing Jin jog over from the information desk. You smile at him, but it disappears when you see how worried he looks.

“Are you okay?” You ask, concerned for your friend.

He stops in front of you and grabs your wrist, “You need to see this.” He pulls you after him towards his desk and pushes you into the chair. He clicks away from the Museum’s website to what looks to be security footage of the front stairs. He points at the screen, his finger covering the statue of three giraffe’s that stand at the right of the screen, “Watch closely.”

You do as he asks, watching the video for a few seconds before it looks like the camera glitches and the head moves. Immediately you register what’s happened, though you’re unsure if Jin has come to the same conclusion. You turn to your friend who looks right back at you and feign confusion, “Did the giraffe head move?”

“No! Why would the head move?” He lets out an exasperated sigh and points at the spot of the ‘glitch’ on the screen, “The camera! Someone moved the camera.”

You shake your head and play along, “The only way to move the outside cameras is with a ladder, and I would have seen it on the surveillance system.”

“I know, that’s what has everyone on edge.” He says, “Well, that and the gift shop.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “The gift shop?”

“Jimin came in this morning and it was ransacked!” He tells you.

“What?!” It wasn’t possible that anyone could get into the gift shop, not even you have a key for the gift shop, “There is absolutely no way anyone got into the museum, let alone the gift shop.”

“I know that and so do Hobi and Yoongi.” He assures you, “They’ve been looking at security footage all day trying to figure it out, but there’s nothing. They don’t know how it happened and Jimin insists that he would have never left it that messy.”

“We’re going to have to upgrade security.” You sigh. It’s not like you haven’t been saying that for weeks, but now you really need it if someone is planning to get into the museum, “If things are happening that we can’t explain, then we’re going to need more eyes.”

Seokjin nods, “That’s what they were saying.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “I can’t believe I let this happen on my watch.”

“Hey, you didn’t do this. We know that. Yoongi actually thinks it’s a ghost.” He laughs.

“What?” You ask.

“Yeah! But I’m not all that surprised.” He shrugs. His indifference, however, does nothing to help you, and he seems to take notice of this as well. The brunette places a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry too much, okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m sure this will all sort itself out.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.” You say, not entirely convinced anything will get solved. You stand from his desk and readjust your things on your shoulder, “’ll see you later.”

You head for your locker first, hearing the news from Jeongguk and Taeyong again before you meet Hoseok and Yoongi in the security room to hear it for a third time. They tell you exactly what Jin had told you, explaining their theories - even the superstitious one that isn’t that far off - and express to you how they don’t blame you for what’s happened. It’s a lot to take in all at once, especially when you have a really good idea of what’s going on. 

Eventually they let you go to get on with your duties, letting you know that they’ll let you know what they decide on. You promise them to keep a sharp eye out, but you know there’s only so much you can do against whatever magic is going on in the museum. 

Namjoon only mentioned that the necklace was a gift and made for his soulmate to bring him back to life so they could spend the rest of their lives together. Not once did he mention he’d be bringing everything else to life too! Then again, he was just as confused as you that first night the other exhibit came to life. If he didn’t know, then you doubt anyone would be able to tell you anything about what’s going on.

All expect for one.

It took you eight tries of running around the museum to find the blonde curator before you catch him fixing his belongings before he leaves through the official employee entrance, “Taehyung!”

He jumps, but smiles bright when he sees it’s you, “Hey, (Y/n), did y-”

You don’t give him the luxury to finish his sentence, however. As soon as you get close enough, you grab his arms to keep him in front of you, “What else do you know about the necklace?!”

“What?” He asks, his attention more focused on your grip than the actual question.

You sigh, “What else can you tell me about it? Is there anything you haven’t told me? Anything at all?!”

He shakes his head, “No! I told you everything!”

“Are you sure?!” You prod, only getting a nod in return. You groan and think for a moment, not letting up on your grip as you think of anything else that could help you, “What was the necklace supposed to do?”

You watch as he tries to recall anything that he hadn’t mentioned before or may have when you were zoned out. His face brightens when he gets something, “The necklace was supposed to bring light and happiness to him and his people! She was to be his light and bring the people to life!”

“Bring them to life…” You repeat.

He nods, “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“It’s bringing them to life.” You say, sparing no thought to Taehyung as you come to the realization.

“What’s bringing what to life?” Taehyung asks.

“Nothing!” You let go of his arms and brush off his shirt sleeves, “So if the necklace wasn’t with them?”

He shrugs, “I would assume it wouldn't matter. It's love, right? If anything, the special curse on the necklace would need to go away first.”

It’s then that you realize what he’s saying. If you want to get rid of the curse, then you and Namjoon have to destroy the necklace. But if you destroy the necklace, then would that destroy him too?

You open the employee door for Taehyung and usher him out, “I need to go.” 

You try to close the door on him but he stops you, “Are you making questionable choices? What’s wrong?” He’s worried and you know he is, but now isn’t the time to have people worrying about you.

You shake your head and smile, “Nothing at all, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“(Y/n)-!”

You don’t waste any time closing the door in Taehyung’s face and locking it before he can ask anymore questions. You race to lock every door, double checking doors that aren’t yours just to be sure there’s no chance of any exhibit getting out and causing even more of a mess. You can’t let another exhibit make a mess that you don’t even notice! You didn’t even have access to leave the gift shop open for Namjoon to enjoy. It was completely off limits, yet it was still affected by the power of the necklace like everything else.

When you make it to Namjoon’s exhibit, he’s already waiting for you. Unlike every other night, his smile is replaced by confusion.

“Is everything okay? Why am I locked in?” He asks.

Seeing the confusion on his face only makes what you have to say even worse, “We need to get rid of the necklace.”

Namjoon confusion morphs into anger and his hands grip the gate tighter, “What? No!”

“Namjoon, things are getting out of hand-” You try to explain, but the king wants nothing to do with it.

“I refuse.”

You groan in annoyance, “Can you think about the consequences here? People could get hurt if all the artifacts finally come to life!”

“I’ve thought about nothing but other people for over 1,000 years! I’m tired of taking care of others!” He says, removing one hand to hit the gate with it.

You flinch, but you don’t falter, “Namjoon…”

He sighs, “All I’ve done with my life is serve my people. That’s it. I’ve never had one day to worry about myself until you touched that necklace and brought my soul back to life.” He looks so defeated and heartbroken as he lays his feelings out on the table. You want to hug him and tell him that nothing might happen to him, but you know that’s not what he wants to hear, “I don’t want to lose that yet.” 

You place a gentle hand on the gate where his fingers slip through the bars, resting yours over his, “Things are starting to get out of hand Namjoon. Every night something changes. A new exhibit wakes up and starts causing chaos. The statues outside have been moving too! How long until it all comes to life and stays alive?”

He tries to come up with some kind of explanation, but he just shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

“It’s going to hurt so many people, including us.” You say, hoping if you use yourself as an example he may see reason. But his solemn look is replaced with a dedicated one instead.

“I will protect you. That is my duty as your king and your lover.” He assures you, “The necklace remains the same. End of discussion.”

He removes his hands from the bars and backs away to try and leave the conversation there, but you aren’t willing to let him win, “You can’t tell me you don’t see the problems around us!”

“And you can’t tell me that you honestly don’t feel anything for me!” He cries out, “These past weeks I know you’ve warmed up to me! You can’t call what’s happened between us nothing!”

You know he’s right, but you can’t afford to let him win at a moment like this. Especially when - if you admit your feelings - you have to then admit that you’re willing to give him up as well. “Can’t I?”

“It is my right as a king to be happy.” He says, redefining his position as king with you. He’s set his foot down and he’s making it as obvious as he can.“You won’t get rid of me without me agreeing. Get used to it.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Namjoon!” You scold. 

“I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight.” He says curtly, turning and walking away from you.

“Namjoon!” You yell, hoping he’ll come back. 

But he doesn’t.

He continues past the display cases that divide the room and hides on the other side where you won’t be able to see him. He doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t come back out. The only thing you can do is unlock his exhibit and give him time to think before you come back to see him.

“I’m sorry that we see things differently right now.” You announce to the exhibit, wanting to make sure he at least knows where you stand with him, “I’ll leave your exhibit open for when you get hungry. I’ll leave your food on the information desk on the first floor.” 

No response.

“I really am sorry, Namjoon.” You say, lingering for just a moment longer than you should before turning your back on the exhibit and walking away.

---

Sitting in the security office has always felt boring, but tonight it feels even more so. Knowing that Namjoon is upset with you and not being able to do anything about it but give him space feels like waiting for test results you know won’t come back for a month. No amount of homework or idle keyboard clicking could change that for you, and it just made your night even more unbearable. 

Maybe Namjoon is right.

There’s no way to know that everything that comes to life won’t be friendly or have the ability to calm down. For all you know, they could all come to life and just do their own thing.

But then again, there’s no guarantee that whatever comes to life won’t behave like it does in everyday life. You’ve already seen how the paintings interact amongst themselves and with each other, and there are a few that you’re glad aren’t statues. 

“Ugh!” You groan, slamming the cover of your textbook closed. There’s just too much to think about, and the atmosphere of the security office is too stale for you to keep your thoughts straight. 

You turn your chair away from the desk and stand up, stretching a little before you pick up your flashlight and leave the room. You make your way down the empty hall leading to the main entrance, hearing the soft chatter of exhibits as you go. It’s always normal to hear the sounds echo throughout the museum. You’re used to hearing the wails of children that don’t want to leave the children’s exhibit and the pleas or scolding of their parents. 

You’d rather hear the children over the ominous noises that leave the stairwells.

At the information desk, you see a figure standing where you had left the food. Tall and swaying side to side awkwardly, you can’t help but chuckle at Namjoon as he knocks the pamphlet stand to the floor. He bends to pick it up, and as you get closer you can’t help but notice the clothes he’s wearing. A dark purple hanbok with a hint of blue and white around the collar.

That’s not what you remember him wearing.

“Namjoon?” You call out, closing in on the figure. When he turns to you though, who you assumed to be Namjoon is not even close. Who you thought was your dead king come to life is really a wax figure of a Silla Dynasty soldier you’d seen from an exhibit on this floor on the other side of the building.

“Uh...hi there.” You greet, awkwardly waving to the man inspecting what he’d knocked over.

The man in question doesn’t humor you though, instead he pulls his weapon and points it in your direction, “State your business.”

Your heart races at his demand and you instinctively clutch your flashlight tighter. With a level voice, you do your best to feign confidence, “I’m the night guard. I protect this building.”

“You?” He scoffs. He eyes you up and down before shaking his head, “A woman. How distasteful.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” You mumble, slightly annoyed at the return of misogyny. You take a breath to steady yourself and try again, “If you give me a moment, I can explain where you are.”

“I know where I am!” He yells, scaring you. You see his grip on his sword tighten and you can’t stop yourself from shifting your weight, “You’ve taken my Queen for a chance to replace her, and that’s a sin I cannot ignore!”

“What?” You think to the woman who sits behind the shatter-proof glass in his exhibit, realizing she must be who he’s talking about. You shake your head, “You have it all wrong! She’s not in any danger! She’s no prisoner!”

Now that you think about it, you’re not exactly sure how he got out of his exhibit. You locked it yourself. You know for a fact he shouldn’t be out and about. Yet here he stands in front of you, sword drawn and ready to strike you.

“Oh really? Then why have you trapped her in an unbreakable cage, wench?” He spits. He must’ve already tried to break her out himself, “I will not let a witch like you harm my Queen and not suffer the consequences.”

In the blink of an eye, he lunges forward. You barely have enough time to side step his advances, feeling a breeze as he rushes past you. You run behind the desk, grabbing the umbrella Seokjin keeps there in case of emergencies and running through the other side away from your assailant who follows you. You let out the loudest scream you can manage, hoping that Namjoon hears you as you run around the grand staircase in hopes of losing the man behind you.

You zig-zag in between pillars, running straight and grabbing one to help you make a quick u-turn to throw him off his guard. But no matter what you do, he stays on you. You round the staircase again and hide behind a pillar this time instead, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath.

When you don’t hear his footsteps, you take a hesitant peek behind the marble. Your eyes turn to saucers when they see him right in front of you with his sword drawn back. You turn quick, hearing his blade strike the pillar before he cries out, “Do not run from me!”

“Namjoon!” You shriek, once again hoping the king can hear you from where he is upstairs. You make a beeline down the hall away from the staircase, heading for the children’s exhibit’s in hopes to cut him off, “Help me! Please!”

The entire way down the hall the man stays hot on your trail, cursing at you and demanding you to listen to him. You pass the exhibits, hoping that if his was open one of these would be too. But as if fate is working against you, none look to be open for you. It’s not until you reach a dead end that you realize your mistake.

“This is your final resting place,” He declares, “Take your last breaths with pride.”

“No.” You shake your head, determined to get away from him. You press the button on your flashlight and point it in his eyes, blinding him enough to run past him again. However, you’re unprepared for the beads that litter the floor, sending you careening to the floor and skidding across the shiny tile.

“You cannot fool me, witch!” You hear him laugh from behind you. You use your elbows to push yourself up and grab your flashlight or the umbrella, but both objects are too far away from you. There’s no way you’ll be able to grab one before the man above you strikes. Instead, you turn yourself over to face him, eyeing the Silla Dynasty soldier with a false confidence.

“Your magic tricks are nothing against me, wench. I will be sure to tell my queen as much when I rescue her from your trap.” He divulges, dragging out your imminent death with a monologue. He laughs to himself, “You must think you’re so smart. Too bad your life is mine.”

He raises his sword and you lift your arm, eyes squeezing shut as you prepare for the blow. Only the blow never comes, and instead you hear a clash of plastic rustling against metal.

“Her life belongs to me just as mine does to her. You’ll do well to remember that.” Namjoon growls, his voice much lower than you’ve heard it before. When you open your eyes to see that it’s really him standing above you, you see he’s holding Jin’s umbrella against your attacker's sword, holding it steady to keep it from harming you or him. 

“Namjoon…” You whimper, happy to see him.

Namjoon lifts his leg and kicks the guard back, knocking him to the floor and onto the beads the man had dropped. He turns to you and pulls you to your feet, placing a hand on the back of your head and pulling you in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead, “Run to my exhibit and lock the gate. I’ll be there for you soon.”

“I can’t leave you.” You protest, holding onto his biceps to keep him from pulling away.

Behind Namjoon the man groans as he stands, breaking up the moment the two of you had and pulling you back to the reality at hand. He turns to place his entire body in front of yours and holds his one hand behind him to steer you back, “Now!”

As much as you want to stay and help him, you know you’ll only distract him. There’s nothing you can do to help him any longer, so you do as he tells you and you run. You run as fast as you can and make it to the staircase, running past it to the information desk where the computers lay open and ready to go. You pull up the security feeds and flip through camera after camera until you find the hallway where Namjoon fights the once wax figure with the umbrella. 

It lasts for a few more swings until Namjoon finally backs him into a corner and hits him in the head, knocking the figure unconscious instead of taking him out entirely. Instant relief washes through you as you watch the man fall to the floor, asleep for who knows how long. Just as long as Namjoon is still standing and physically okay, you’re happy for now.

You catch your breath and collect your thoughts as he makes his way back down the hall to you, working on what you’ll say to him in your mind and hoping that whatever you come up with will be good enough.

“(Y/n)?” Namjoon calls from the stairs, surprised to see you at the desk and not upstairs where he’d asked you to go.

You only shake your head, “I know and I’m sorry. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

“It’s fine, I understand,” He assures you, “I actually wanted to say that I-” Namjoon is interrupted by a growl, a low throaty one that comes from the staircase just down the hall, You both turn very slowly towards the sound, and are met with two sharp green eyes of the tiger from the downstairs animal exhibit.

“(Y/n)...” He tries to call out to you, but you shake your head, “Don’t move, Namjoon.”

“I told you I’d protect you.” He reminds you.

You see the way his eyes flicker from the tiger to the opposite end of the hall and you hold a breath, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Run to my exhibit and I’ll meet you there.” He promises before clapping his hands together and shuffling to his side to run towards the exhibit’s the guard had come from. The tiger immediately locks onto him and takes off, Namjoon sprinting down the hall to lead it away, “Go! Now while you still can.”

The tiger passes you, but you can’t bring yourself to run away from Namjoon. You can’t bring yourself to leave him alone again. So you take off after the two as well, following them down the hall into the ancient jewel’s exhibit. The whole room is stocked full, large enough to run around with an exit gate on the other side. It’s one of the few rooms to have two gates, and right now you were more than happy for that.

Namjoon and the tiger haven’t noticed you yet, the two run in circles around each other with Namjoon trying to outrun and outsmart him. You take that opportunity to close the gate behind you and lock it up, leaving only one exit for you to escape from.

“Namjoon!” You yell, grabbing his attention as he runs past another display case.

He lets out an exasperated yell when he sees you, “I told you to go upstairs!”

“I won’t leave you!” You yell back, “Run to the gate and close it behind you!”

“No! Not while you’re in here!” He argues, making another pass around a display case.

“Do it!” You demand. You run further into the room and grab the tiger’s attention, pulling it away from Namjoon so you can enact your escape plan, “Here kitty kitty kitty~!”

The overgrown feline takes notice of you, giving Namjoon a chance to run to the doors and pull the gates together again. You lead it away just as Namjoon had done for you, doing what you can to distract the tiger and put enough space in between the two of you.

When you finally get an opening, you take it. You make a beeline for the gate where Namjoon is and grab your keys, “Open it!”

Namjoon throws the gate open and closes it as soon as you pass him, holding it shut while you fish for the right key. “(Y/n)...anytime now.”

“Hold on-” You breathe, flipping through your keys for the correct one, “I almost have it.”

“It’s going to claw my hands off!” Namjoon yells.

“I got it!” You cry, shoving the key into the lock and turning it before the tiger can pounce on the gate or their hands.

The two try to catch their breaths, but more yelling comes from down the hall. It leaves the two of you with only the option to run as fast as you can back to the main entrance to get to his exhibit and lock yourselves in.

“Hold my hand and don’t let go, okay?” Namjoon tells you, making sure you understand with a nod before he pulls you after him. 

The two of you run again, quickly meeting more Silla soldiers and dodging them like you had their friend. Birds and other animals far more inviting than the tiger run into you both, but you only keep running to the stairs. Namjoon continues to pull you along, even as he takes the stairs two-by-two in hopes of reaching his exhibit before anyone else can apprehend the two of you.

Even as you run, you’re thumbing through your keys to find his. You keep up with every step and hold on tight to his hand, even more so when you feel his key hit your palm. He pulls you along and into his exhibit, the both of you letting the other go so you can shut the gate and lock it behind you. 

Namjoon takes your hand again and pulls you deeper into the room, hiding behind the display cases as the other’s reach his gate, “You were right. We have to get rid of it!”

You shake your head, “Then I’ll lose you!”

“You’ll lose me anyways if we don’t do this!”

“I don’t know if I can any more…” Within hours the two of you have changed mindsets, but now there’s no time to think of a new plan. The only thing you can do is hope for the best outcome now.

Namjoon takes your face in his hands, gently cupping your cheeks as unshed tears well up between the two of you, “(Y/n), I’ve waited so long to have you, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t listen to what you had to say earlier.” 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry for not listening to you! You were right. Just like you always are. I’ve loved spending every minute with you, and I don’t want you to go.” Your voice breaks and you can see it in his eyes that it’s getting to him too.

“This past month that I’ve been able to enjoy with you, has been more than I could have ever asked for.” He admits, placing a kiss against your forehead, “But it’s time to say goodbye.”

“No.” You shake your head, “No you can’t say goodbye.” You wrap your arms around his torso and hold him close, squeezing as tight as you can in hopes it’ll block out the sounds of the angry mob outside, “Please, don’t say goodbye yet.”

“You’ll see me again.” He assures you, gently running his thumb over the back of your head.

“Namjoon, please...” you beg, hoping that if he hears how much you really care for him that he’ll change his mind one more time.

But instead he pulls back so you can see his face and he can see yours. Smiling his cute dimpled smile with glassy eyes as he says, “I love you.”

Before you can change your mind, you find the display case key on your keychain and unlock the glass. No alarm rings, only the sounds of banging on the exhibit’s gate ring in your ears as you pull the necklace from its place. You turn with it towards Namjoon, but you’re hesitant to hand it to him. Knowing that when you do, you’ll have to say goodbye no matter what. 

Namjoon senses your hesitance, and pulls you in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace and holding you close against his body, he tries to convey every thought he’s thinking into one hug and make it last for a lifetime.

With one final burst of confidence, you pull yourself away from Namjoon and press your lips against his for the first and last time, relishing in the feeling of being so close to him as his free hand brushes over yours - the one holding the necklace.

All too soon, he pulls his hand back a tight grip around the necklace, breaking the jewel into a million pieces. You can feel the magic of the necklace burst free from it’s confines as you feel the kiss you share with Namjoon dissolve away. And when you finally gain the courage to open yours eyes.

He’s gone.

The loud banging is gone.

All signs of life besides yours are gone.

You’re left with nothing but a broken necklace and an empty room where the only sounds you can hear are the silence of the building, the shakiness of your breaths, and the pounding ache of your heart.

You can’t stop the sob that leaves your mouth as reality settles in and crashes down on you that he’s left and he’s gone and there’s nothing you can do to get him back anymore. You weep for the love you found and lost in such a short time, and you can’t stop yourself from wishing you hadn’t pushed him away as you had. From wishing you had appreciated him more while he was here. You cry out to the world for them to hear, but there’s nothing but the silent void that calls back.

Then you hear the footsteps.

They’re soft at first, only a patter. And then they get louder and it’s like someone is racing to get to you. Rationale leaves your mind as you come to the realization that Namjoon is still there! He didn’t disappear as you thought he had!

But nothing can mask your disappointment when you see the soft blonde locks of Taehyung run through the door. Nothing but pain and confusion. 

“Taehyung?” You ask, wiping a tear, “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I had to check on you.” He explains. He kneels down to your level and places a hand on your shoulder, “You just lost your soulmate, I couldn’t not comfort you.”

“How did you know? I never introduced you to Namjoon. No one knew about Namjoon.” You ramble on, trying to think of when you’d ever let Namjoon slip through the cracks. Then it dawns on you, that someone had to have let him in here and it wasn’t you, “Did Hoseok let you in.”

“There’s a lot that I need to explain to you.” He says. You’re confused, but you allow him a chance to explain himself. He had to have something good if it meant he got into the museum and knew about Namjoon. But then again, there was also the mention of the burglar messing with the museum equipment to break in. If anything, you’re hoping Hoseok or Yoongi is with him rather than him being a thief. 

“I’m the moon goddess.” He says.

Not what you were expecting.

“But you’re a boy.” You say without thinking. You pause for a moment to think and retrace your steps, “I mean I’m not judging, but I’m just confused.”

“When I first approached Namjoon he mistook me for a woman and I just never corrected him.” He explains. There seems to be more to his story, but you weren’t going to push it at the moment. “I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve put you through.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” You ask. If he was trying to help you and Namjoon, then he should’ve just told you that first night instead of this elaborate scheme to bring the two of you together.

He sighs, “I wanted to, but fate is tricky. I can bring you together, but fate has every right to pull you apart. I really thought this was it this time.”

“This time?” You question. Taehyung freezes, glancing at you and then to the floor in thought. It’s as if he’s having a battle within himself on the inside, something you’ve never seen from him before. “Taehyung?”

“Can I show you something?” He asks.

You raise a brow in confusion, “Show me what?”

“Your past life.”

“My past life?” You repeat.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve crossed paths with Namjoon.” He explains. Gently, Taehyung takes one of your hands and squeezes lightly, sending the room around you swirling in a funnel of blue and gold. When it stops, you find yourself in a wooden room filled with clay pots, water, and rolls upon rolls of fabric. A bed lays in the center of the room, and in the corner is where a woman who looks a lot like you sits with her hands folded in her lap.

“This is your past life with Namjoon.” He says, the thumb of the hand holding yours rubbing the back of it gently.

“I was a doctor?” You ask, taking in the simple clothes you wear as well as the supplies within the room.

“Yes.”

“Miss-” Another Taehyung peeks his head around the corner, only this one wears a woman’s hanbok in a baby blue with his long hair left down to sway free, “-his majesty would like to meet you.”

“Right!” Your other self stands quick, her hands pressed tight against her sides before she follows Taehyung out of the room.

You turn to Taehyung with an inquisitive stare, “Why are you wearing a woman’s hanbok?”

“It’s complicated, just follow me- Well, us.” He pulls you along after him, going through the door that had been shut behind your other selves.

The both of you follow them down the hallway to a room with two guards at the door. When they see Taehyung, they bow and open the doors, letting your past selves enter the room with you following after them.

On a large bed, tucked under satin sheets lay your king, cheeks sullen and heavy bags under his eyes. It doesn’t take a doctor to see how sick he is, and it breaks your heart just to see him in such a state. “Namjoon…”

“Your majesty, the doctor who will perform on you has arrived.” Taehyung’s younger self announces. When Namjoon doesn’t answer, he gently shakes him awake, “Your majesty?”

Namjoon opens his eyes slowly, taking a moment to register what Taehyung’s told him. He sees your other self, and you see a glimmer of the smile he’d shown you only minutes prior, “I-” The king coughs, “I thank you...for coming all this way. I hope-” he pauses, “I hope your trip was well.”

Your past self bows her head in respect, “It was very gracious of you, your majesty. I am honored to ease you into the afterlife so that you may meet your one true love.”

Namjoon gives a subtle nod of his head, “Your words warm my heart...I thank you for your service.”

“It is my honor.” You say, bowing your head in respect, “You should rest now, my king. You need your energy for when you wake again.”

“Yes...I look forward to it.” He muses, eyes closing once again. 

You feel the tears on your cheeks, but your past self doesn’t bat an eye as she turns to Taehyung’s former self, “He won’t make it through the night. Not like this.”

“That’s what we’ve feared.” Taehyung admits solemnly. He allows a moment of peace before a thought rushes to him, “The king! He asked me to make sure you receive all of his items that will be in his tomb.”

“Shouldn’t his servants be the ones to keep track of his belongings?” You ask him, watching as he searches the room for something.

“Yes, but he told me himself, he wishes to have his lover’s necklace with him.” He assures you. He takes a minute, but he finds the box in only a few moments on a chest closer to the door, “I would bring it back myself, but I do not wish to leave the king in his final hours.”

You nod in understanding, “I understand. I’ll take it for you. Anything for his majesty.” 

You watch as your past self reaches for the box to take it back to the medical room with her, but a guard barges in and stops her, “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“His majesty asked for his belongings to be moved to his operation room.” You explain, your hands quickly moving back to yours sides.

“No one but his royal guards are to touch the necklace!” The guard bellows. He grabs your past self and pushes her towards the door, “Out with you!” Another guard meets her before she stumbles to the floor and the first guard gets in his face, “Make sure she gets back to her room, and don’t let her out until the king has passed.”

“Please, she was just following orders. I heard them myself.” Taehyung’s previous self tries to explain. Unfortunately, for the both of them, the guard wants nothing to do with it.

“When my king tells me what he wishes, then I will his - and only his - orders.” The guard spits, slamming the door in past Taehyung’s face. 

The door closing sends the image into smoke, and when it clears you find yourself back in the museum in the same empty exhibit.

“When they wouldn’t listen to me, I vowed to bring you together in your next lives.” He tells you, his head to the ground. When he meets your eyes, there are tears running down his cheeks, “But I failed again.”

“Tae…”

“I’m so sorry.” He weeps, hanging his head in shame once again.

You only move closer to him and wrap your arms over his shoulders, “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Together you mourn the loss of a friend

A promise

And a lover.

~ Read Part 3 ~

[ssatoritendou]

Ideal Husband | i.

kuroo tetsurou

Pairing: kuroo/reader

Word count: 1,700

+ summary: kuroo made a mistake in pissing you off now he is cooking you and your younger brother dinner. Something your mother says to you gets you thinking 

Genre: Fluff

"Kuroo pick me up!" B/n said. Y/n's mom was working late tonight and couldn't pick up her little brother. She asked me and the coach if she could bring him to our practice. Right now she was filling up water bottles and he was hanging on to my leg wanting to play before she came back. "Alright squirt." I picked him up and placed him on my shoulders. "You want to learn how to block right? Y/n said you want to join an elementary school team." "Yeah, Kuroo. I want to be a middle blocker like you." I laughed "Alright boys huddle up. Today we are going to teach B/n here how to block." "I don't know Kuroo. Don't you think Y/n will kill you? She is very protective of him." Yaku said. "She would never kill Kuroo she likes him too much," I smirked at b/n's comment. "Even if she calls him a roaster-headed dumbass." My smile faded. "Now c'mon let's play I want to block one of Yamamoto's spikes and not one of Lev's weak ones." "Why you little brat-" Lev said but was cut off by Yaku kicking him. "Alright, boys settle down, and let's get into formation." I said, "Let's play."

"Kuroo looks really hot with kids doesn't he?" "Yeah, it makes him seem more mature. Like the ideal husband and father." You overheard some girls say. "Kids? Oh hell no Kuroo Tetsurou!" You picked up the water bottles and ran towards the gym. As soon as your eyes landed on Kuroo you saw your 4-foot tall brother on top of his shoulders. "Kuroo Tetsurou put my baby brother down now!" "Oh, crap." You heard him say. He put down B/n. "Everybody do ten laps." "Good luck Kuroo." Yaku said to the roaster headed captain. "Yeah Y/n looks pissed," Lev said. "B/n why don't you go and do some homework while your sister yells at me," Kuroo told him. You walked right up to him. "Why do you like giving me a brain aneurysm every chance you get?" "I'm sorry ok? It wasn't even that dangerous." "Not that dangerous? You are like 10 feet tall and he's 4 feet tall that's 14 feet that's a high drop. You could have hurt him." "Ok, I am sorry that I almost killed your brother. To make it up to you I'll make dinner tonight for the both of you since your mom is working late." "It better be good. Now go join your team and run so laps." "Excuse me?" "Yeah, captain it looks like you put on a couple of pounds." He took a water bottle out of your hands and squirted water in your face. "Kuroo! L/n! Stop flirting with each other and get back to work." Coach yelled. You felt your face get a little pink. "Roaster head give me your damn towel." "Why don't you try and reach it shortie." He smirked. With that, you kicked him in the shin which leads him to crouch. You took the towel off of his neck. "Captain it seems you forgot I played soccer in middle school. Now I didn't kick you that hard so I suggest you do the remaining 7 laps." You walked away wiping your face of the water. You walked over to the benches and set down the bottles. You kissed the top of B/n's head and went back to reviewing your notes on new plays. 

Kuroo, B/n, and you took the train back to your house. As soon as we got home B/n was tired so you took him upstairs to bathe and get into his pajamas before having dinner. When we got downstairs you saw Kuroo was actually cooking. "I didn't think you were actually going to cook." "What did you expect me to order in food and just pay for it? What kind of gentlemen would I be?" "I didn't think you were a gentleman Kuroo after the stunt you pulled today." "You are one to talk Miss.L/n after the stunt you pulled." "You started it. Don't start something you can't finish." You smirked at the cat like-boy. "Oh, I know something we can both start and finish." He wiggled his eyebrows. You felt my cheeks redden. "Y-You are disgusting sometimes." "I meant dinner Y/n. I need some help. Jeez, don't be so dirty." He laughed his obnoxious laugh. "Kuroo are you dating my sister?" B/n asked out of nowhere. "B/n what?" "No, sadly I'm not so lucky. Why are you asking buddy?" "Because if you were we could be brothers." bB/n smiled at Kuroo. It was kind of sweet. Kuroo patted his head. "But we are already bro's. Volleyball bro's." B/n stared at him in awe. "Wow, awesome." "Now go help Y/n set the table up for dinner and wash your hands."

After dinner, you helped Kuroo clean up as B/n sat on the stairs waiting for me to take him upstairs to read him a book. "When is your mom supposed to be home?" "I don't really know. Maybe 2-3 more hours at the max. Why are you asking?" "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone at night with B/n." "What's that supposed to mean?" "What if there is an intruder?" "Fine, you can stay till my mom gets home if you want to. I'll set up the five-star guest coach suite. After I put B/n to bed." "I'm not staying over." "Kuroo I don't want to hear it. It's going to be late and I don't want something bad happening to you either." "Aww, you care about me." "Piss off. I can't get in trouble with all the girls and the team." "Girls?" He questioned. "Oh yes. If you want to know some girls thought you were cute with B/n today." He hummed at this comment. "Ok B/n let's go to bed." "Can Kuroo read me a book tonight? He is staying over right?" "I mean if Kuroo doesn't mind?" You looked at Kuroo. "Yeah, buddy sure. I'll help you with the dishes after." "Sure. Let me get the extra blankets and pillows."

"The kid is asleep and nicely tucked in. Now I'm ready to clean the dish- You did them without me?" He said sadly. "Uh yeah you were taking too long and I was getting bored after I made your bed." "Five stars indeed." He chuckled. "Are you going to go to bed?" "Uh, probably not. Why?" "You wanna watch a movie?" He smirked. Little did you know that he had a plan. He planned to watch a horror movie with you hoping you would cozie up next to him for comfort. "Sure. What movie do you want to watch?" "How about the new Ring?" "Yeah, sure I have been meaning to watch that. Can you set up the tv and I'll get some ice cream." He smirked and put the movie on. You walked over with a tub of ice cream and two spoons and handed him a spoon. "Eating out of the tub classy." "Shut up." You smiled. You sat down next to him and began to watch the movie. 

As the movie progressed Kuroo watched you carefully but noticed you weren't getting scared. He began to think you didn't want him to see you so vulnerable. He stretched his arm over to your shoulder. You noticed this and chuckled on the inside. You heard something upstairs. "Kuroo pause the movie." "Aw Y/n are you getting scared." He began to teased You heard whimpers of B/n upstairs. "No. I'll be back down in a couple of minutes." You got up from the couch and went upstairs. "Hey sweetie what's wrong?" "I had a nightmare." "It's ok sweetie I'm here. Shhh." You hummed and pulled him into a hug. He probably heard the movie while he was sleeping. "Is Kuroo still here?" "Uh yeah. Do you want to come downstairs and sit with us?" "Yes please." He said rubbing his eyes. You picked him up and carried him downstairs. "Hey what's wrong?" "Someone had a nightmare and asked if he could come downstairs and watch a little tv we can finish the movie another time." "Ok." He smiled. B/n snuggled into your side and Kuroo put on some cartoons for him to watch.

You felt someone tap your shoulder you rubbed your eyes to see your mom. "Hi." You said quietly noticing that Kuroo was asleep on your shoulder and B/n was nowhere to be found. "I already brought him upstairs so don't freak out." She said. You nodded. You skillfully removed yourself from Kuroo and walked over to the kitchen where your mom was waiting for you. "What's Kuroo doing here?" "He cooked dinner and he said he wanted to stay until you got home. Then I said I didn't want him walking this late to go home. So I made him a couch bed so he could sleep on it. Plus it was easier taking care of B/n because he likes Kuroo a lot." "He cooked and wanted to make sure you weren't alone?" "Yes." "Oh, my baby girl that boy likes you." She smiled. "Uh what no he doesn't." "Yes, he does. He's very sweet towards you and you should he the looks he gives you when he's over here. I thought you would have noticed by now." She giggled. "Not to mention he's good with kids. To be honest I was looking at the three of you on the couch and you guys looked like a cute little family. A very cute husband and wife." "You sound ridiculous mom. Now if you excuse me I'm going to bed." You walked upstairs before you noticed Kuroo's uniform in his gym bag. You picked it out and figured to wash it before he woke up. Truth be told you were distracting yourself from the fact what if Kuroo did like you?

[hongyueg]

When an Orc Teaches a Math Class

What happens when Bolg's father gets accepted as his high school's new math teacher? https://archiveofourown.org/works/31756993 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Bolg heard the news his father had been accepted as The Middle-earth Academy for Cooperation and Mutual Success’ new math teacher, two things popped into his mind. The first being that he would allow no one to learn the new math teacher was his father and the second being he was going to avoid the math department as much as possible when he arrived at The Middle-earth Academy for Cooperation and Mutual Success (or MACMutS as everybody called it) in the Fall for his second year of high school.

“I can’t believe it!” Azog, Bolg’s father, exclaimed in Orkish as he pointed at his computer screen (and, yes, Orcs did have internet) for the seventeenth time.

Bolg, who sat at the kitchen table, nodded. He stared through the entrance of their home at the mountains in the distance. The ridges’ dark colors were comforting like the soup his father made during the Winter months. All the Orcs in their commune always jostled over to their dwelling as soon as they smelled the aroma of Azog’s signature dish seeping out of the little hut. With his dad now working at MACMutS full-time, Bolg wondered how their comrades would fare without him.

“This is wonderful,” Azog babbled on. “I’m finally going to meet new people, make connections, and see the world!”

~~~

A month and eleven days later, Azog and Bolg were off to see the world, or rather off to travel by train for eight hours and seven minutes to get to Gondor from Gundabad. After a little hassle at the train station to get a taxi to Minas Tirith (the problem was that Orcs didn’t have a system based on currency, so it was a bit hard to convince a Human driver to take them for free. Azog eventually just gave the Human his phone number and promised to do car maintenance for no charge at any time. Bolg was a bit skeptical how this could happen since Azog didn’t own any equipment to do car repairs, but the driver accepted the deal, so Bolg stayed silent), they arrived just outside the school’s main gates.

“How did you get here last time?” Azog huffed as he pulled the last of the luggage out of the taxi and waved the driver goodbye. Azog had brought an extra luggage bag just for his cooking ingredients to his son’s disapproval.

Bolg scratched his pale bald head. He didn’t want to admit he had relied on a Dwarvish prince he had met on the train to pay for his fare. “Uh, I just gave the driver the rest of the snacks you had packed me.”

“This will need to change,” Azog declared. “I will speak to the administration and make sure they give Orc students a pass to get free taxi rides. This school is supposed to be the symbol of acceptance and how can it live up to that ideal when it’s a financial struggle for some of their students to even get here.”

Bolg had stopped listening to his father as he noticed a few other students, non-Orcs who were probably First Years, gaping in their direction. He could somewhat understand their astonishment. Orcs only left their secluded communities for political or educational reasons and it had been over three hundred years since any major force of Orcs had participated in the continent’s wars. Still, Orcs weren’t that rare. If anything, they were much more numerous than Elves. Maybe they come from rural communities. Wait, why am I making excuses for them? They shouldn’t be staring . He glared at them and they hastily turned their gazes away.

“Well, Bolg, I’ll let you go to your dorm room. It’s a shame that you aren’t in any of my classes, but I will certainly see you around!”

As he trudged away from his father, Bolg prayed they would never cross paths inside the school.

~~~

“Bolg, what do you think of the new math teacher?” Rosie Cotton, a Hobbit in his year and one of his new dorm hallmates, asked as they headed off to the cafeteria together. The height difference was considerable between the two of them and Bolg had to bend down to hear her. The good thing was Rosie usually just chattered on without waiting for Bolg to reply, so if he missed a few words here and there, it was rarely an issue.

Bolg squinted his eyes against the late Summer sun, which was still bright despite the fact it was nearly evening. Orc eyes aren’t meant for this much luminosity. A pang of homesickness shot through him as he missed the cool, dark mountains around Gundabad. “Yeah, I think it’s great the school is hiring an Orc to be on their faculty.” He felt appreciative that Orcs didn’t have last names. No one had to know that Azog was his father and he preferred not to answer questions about how Orcs were birthed.

“Me, too! The school has been pretty good about having a diverse set of teachers and administrators, so it’s about time they hired an Orc. Ooh, I heard from Fredegar Bolger…” And Rosie rambled on until they arrived at the dining commons and went their separate ways.

After Bolg had picked up a steaming bowl of rabbit soup, he found his way over to his friends. It had been a couple months since he had spoken to any of them. While he did have internet back home, the connection wasn’t strong enough for video chatting.

“Bolg,” Gothmog cried, slapping his fat peach-colored hand against Bolg’s back as Bolg slid down on the bench beside the Mordorian Orc. “Good to see you. I was worried that you were never going to show up.”

“What, Gothmog? I was just finishing unpacking.” Bolg glanced at the other people at the table. There was Yazneg, an Orc from Moria, Shagrat, a Black Uruk from Cirith Ungol, and three dwarves from the Lonely Mountain who were all related and named Bifur, Bofur, and Bumbur. Off at the edge of the table was their year’s loner, a Human named Aragorn. Rumor had it that Aragorn had been raised by Elves, but had been kicked out for undisclosed reasons. He currently lived as a nomad among the Rangers of the North. The theories for why the Elves supposedly shunned Aragorn were vast and Bolg, despite having sat at the same dining table as the boy everyday of the last school year, still had no knowledge of Aragorn’s true history.

Bolg only half-listened to his friends as he slurped his stew. Shagrat complained about the creepy giant spider that lived next to his commune’s settlement. The dwarfs discussed how the mining expenditures in the East were progressing. Not like the Orcs really cared as money meant little to them.

“Y’know that new math teacher?” Yazneg’s voice jolted through his ears. Bolg spit his stew back into his bowl.

The others, even Aragorn, stared at Bolg.

“You okay, buddy?” Bofur asked, his dark brown eyes brimming with worry.

Bolg took a steady breath and placed his bowl back down onto the table with a soft clink. “Y-yes. Um, what were you saying about the new math teacher, Yazneg?”

Yazneg frowned, but carried on. “I was just gonna say that when I mentioned his name to my commune, they said that he was originally from Moria, but moved to Gundabad when he was young. I just found it kinda strange. For you non-Orcs, it’s rare that one of us leaves the place where we’re from. Bolg, you’re from Gundabad. Do you know anything about Azog?”

Once again, all eyes were on him. Bolg chewed his lip. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

Everyone continued to peer at him until Gothmog broke the silence by bragging about a difficult wrestling tournament he had won over the Summer.

Bolg’s secret was safe.

~~~

At least that’s what he had thought. They had all finished eating and saying their goodbyes. Bolg had been heading over to catch up with Rosie who was exiting the dining hall by herself when he felt a firm hand grasp his wrist.

Tense, he twisted around to see Aragorn looking up at him with narrowed eyes. Bolg trembled and had to remind himself that he was a Gundabad Orc and Gundabad Orcs weren’t scared of anything. “Why didn’t you tell them that Azog is your father?” Aragorn asked in a low voice.

Bolg glanced around him to make sure there were no onlookers. Fortunately, most other students were too occupied catching up with their friends and eating to notice Bolg and Aragorn. “I-I...How did you know?”

Aragorn shrugged. “I’ve heard about your father before. As Yazneg says, it’s rare for an Orc to leave their commune.”

“You Rangers spy on us?”

“You’re not answering my question.” Aragorn released Bolg’s wrist.

Bolg rubbed it. Aragorn had been gripping his wrist tight. “Do I have to? You never tell anyone your history, so why should I tell you mine?”

The Human sighed. “Fair point. Okay, keep your secrets to yourself, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else.” With that, Aragorn strode away.

~~~

Why did Bolg want to keep his father’s identity a secret? Aragorn’s question rattled Bolg’s brain for the rest of the night. Luckily, if his roommate Faramir noticed, he didn’t say anything as they both prepared for bed.

Bolg lay on his mattress, staring at the darkness glittering around him. He had chosen the bed farthest from the window because light and Orcs didn’t exactly mix, but the usual comfort gloom gave him wasn’t there.

He turned onto his side again, the frame creaking underneath him as he moved.

“Hey, Bolg, are you alright?” On the other side of the room, the lamp flicked on, spreading glaring light across the open space.

Bolg sat up and twisted around to see Faramir peering at him. The young Human’s long dark hair was a bit tussled from lying down and his gray eyes appeared concerned. Bolg didn’t know much about his roommate beyond the fact he was the Gondorian steward’s son. He had thought it was a bit strange that Faramir had chosen to stay on campus when he lived not too far away in a palace, but decided he wasn’t in a place to question a noble’s decision.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” Bolg stammered.

“Just wanted to make sure since you’ve moved around at least five times now.”

Nine, Bolg thought to himself. “Yeah, everything’s good. I’m just stressing about something stupid. Not something anybody would care to listen to.”

“Try me. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” The Human gave a little smile.

Bolg had never talked to anybody about his feelings before. It wasn’t something accepted in Orkish culture. If you had an issue, you just complained about the person closest in proximity to you and then wrestled with them until you felt better. Bolg didn’t feel like wrestling with Faramir. “Um, well, it’s about a certain someone. I don’t want anyone knowing about my, uh, connection to them because it’s just so embarrassing and he’s just so embarrassing and he doesn’t exactly fit certain standards and I think everybody would think I’m weird for being connected to him and then it...I would be a mess…”

Bolg stared at the ground. He was so glad that Orcs didn’t blush or he would be bright red right now.

“You have a crush on someone?” Faramir asked, his eyebrows raised. “It’s fine if you do. Feeling embarrassed about crushes is normal and you never know, maybe he likes you back. If you want help reaching out to him, whoever he is, I can help out-”

“No,” Bolg interjected. Another wave of gratefulness for Orcs’ inability to blush sparked through him. “It’s not a crush. It’s my...father.” Getting that last word out felt like trying to push Mount Gundabad over a few inches.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Bolg turned his attention to a tiny moth fluttering by Faramir’s lamp. “He’s the new math teacher.”

“Azog? Oh, I have him.”

“I mean, he’s energetic and strong and cares a lot about education, but he’s a bit bizarre in terms of Orkish culture. He wants to explore the world and meet new people and...he has a kid.”

“Is having a kid a bad thing? Sorry, I don’t know much about Orkish culture.” Faramir gazed at the floor.

“Orcs don’t really have families. We’re kind of born the size of adults and just integrated into our communes immediately. I mean, we still mature over time like other species do, but we don’t have parents. The fact my dad decided to raise me on his own is strange and we keep it a secret in our commune to avoid being shamed by other Orcs.”

“Born the size of adults,” Faramir murmured.

“Don’t think about it too much.” Bolg rubbed his head. “Sorry to bother you with this. I should have kept it to myself.”

The Human glanced up at Bolg. “No, no. It’s alright. How can I support you?”

Bolg blinked at Faramir. “Do you think I should tell my friends?”

Faramir sighed. “It’s up to you to do what you think is best, but if they’re good friends, then I’m sure they’ll support you.”

~~~

Bolg prayed Faramir was right as he sat down at the dining table the next morning. He had arrived at the cafeteria on the earlier side, hoping that the quieter atmosphere would calm his nerves before he spoke to his friends.

“Bolg, you’re early!” A voice cried out behind him in heavily accented Orkish.

Bolg twisted around to see Gothmog striding toward him. They rarely spoke Orkish to one another since the Gundabad and Mordorian dialects were, for the most, mutually unintelligible.

“Yeah,” Bolg replied in Common Speech. He fiddled with the fork he was using to eat his breakfast patties.

Gothmog took a seat beside him. “The cooks are trying out this new soup. Apparently they got the recipe from the new math teacher. He even donated his ingredients to them. It’s a Winter soup, but technically can be made year-round.”

Sure enough, the distinct aroma of his father’s signature dish swarmed Bolg’s senses.

“Is that a tear? Orcs don’t cry, silly.”

Bolg turned away from his friend. More tears wracked though his body and hiccups escaped through his mouth. His stomach burned inside of him and he craved to crawl into a nice, dark hole.

Gothmog began slapping his back. “Uh, Bolg? You okay? Are you allergic to the soup? Do you want to wrestle?”

A chorus of footsteps sounded behind Bolg.  “What’s going on?” Came Bofur’s excited voice. Even more tears gushed from Bolg’s eyelids.

“Dunno,” He heard Yaznag say.

“I’ve never seen an Orc act like that,” blurted Shagrat. “Maybe he needs a good chokehold.”

“I don’t think that will help him,” Aragorn muttered.

Bolg shoved his platter of food away and pushed his face against the table's hard surface. Gothmog continued to clobber his back.

“Hey, Bolg, what’s going on? Are you alright?” Rosie’s breath tickled his arm. He hadn’t even heard her step by.

“Should we get a teacher?” Bumbur asked.

“Mister Azog, over here!” Bofur shouted. Bolg could hear what was most likely Bifur, Bofur’s mute cousin, jumping up and down to wave over the educator.

Heavy footsteps clomped in Bolg’s direction. “Hey, son, what’s going on?” Azog asked in Orkish.

“Wait, Mister Azog is your father?” Yazneg asked in Common Speech.

“Orcs don’t have fathers, silly,” Gothmog said in between wacks.

Strength surged through Bolg’s body and he sat up. Taking a deep breath, he wiped away his tears. With a single hand, he knocked Gothmog over onto the ground. Rosie, Bofur, and Bumbur all gasped. “It’s true,” Bolg said. He peered at his father who stood by the other side of the table. “The new math teacher is my father.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

MerMay 2021 Day Four A Magical Night

It was well into the night, the nearly-full moon clearly visible high in the sky, when two heads popped out of the lake. Nobody was nearby to see them, and even if there was someone, they likely wouldn’t have seen the two figures in the middle of the lake when it was so dark out. Good. That was ideal.

“Everything’s clear,” Marvin said, pulling his mask onto his face. “You have a good handle on that?”

Jameson nodded. He couldn’t reply beyond that, as both arms were tightly wrapped around a rock about the size of a human soccer ball. His expression was distinctly nervous.

“Great. It’s fine if you drop it, though, we’d just have to go down and pick it up again.” Marvin laughed a bit. “It’s a good thing the energy stored won’t suddenly leave if you drop it.”

That did not reassure Jameson, who now looked even more alarmed at that possibility.

“Which...is not going to happen. It can’t happen at all, otherwise storing energy wouldn’t be that helpful. I was making a joke, probably not the best time, huh? Anyway.” Marvin swam back a bit, double-checking that there were no humans on the faraway shore. “You can start any time you’re ready.”

Jameson nodded, and took a deep breath. In all honesty, he was having difficulty staying upright when his arms were grabbing this; he couldn’t use his wings for stability. So, adjusting his grip so the rock was just in his hands, and reassuring himself that he wouldn’t drop it, he tried to relax. Nothing to worry about. Just a major spell that he’s never tried before. It was fine.

He glanced over at Marvin, who trilled quietly and gave him an encouraging smile. That made him feel a bit better. He looked down at the rock in the water and focused on the way it felt in his hands. Swishing his tail back and forth to keep his balance, his eyes started to glow a bright blue.

The water around him, normally still, started to shiver a bit. The carvings in the stone lit up blue as well, and ripples slowly formed outward. Gentle at first, then growing into waves with enough force to rock a boat. Marvin managed to stay in place through use of his own protective magic provided by the mask he was wearing, and he still had to swim against the sudden current.

Strands of blue light started to weave through the water in concentric swirls. And slowly, the waves stopped going out. They froze, and then the water began pulling inward...and downward. It swirled, faster and faster, until it eventually formed a whirlpool with Jameson at the center. The sensation was odd, to be in the middle of, and for one moment, he stopped thinking about maintaining the whirlpool and marvelled in the feeling of the strong water current, completely avoiding him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to study that, because the minute he lost focus, the water slowed and evened out, once again becoming flat.

Jameson blinked, the glow fading from his eyes as he looked down at the rock, disappointed. Marvin, however, was not disappointed in the least. “That was amazing!” He yelled. “Jameson!” Without any warning beyond that, Marvin lunged through the water and knocked Jameson to the side in a big hug, causing him to let go of the rock. Jameson gasped, but Marvin paid the rock no mind. “That was your first try, a-and you got a pretty big maelstrom going for a solid minute! That was so cool, oh my gods!”

After a moment, Jameson finally managed to get his hands free to sign. Do you really think so? I lost concentration there.

“Yeah, so did I the first time. This was your first time! First time!” Marvin chattered excitedly. “Amazing!”

Jameson smiled gently and ducked below the water, a bit embarrassed. Alright, I get the idea, Marvin.

Marvin ducked below as well.  “If you keep this up, you won’t be my apprentice for much longer. Because you’ll be your own mage!”

Is that allowed? Jameson asked as the two of them swam deeper. I thought there was a seven-year study period, I’ve known you for barely two.

“Well, yes, that’s the tradition, but who cares about tradition? I only studied under my teacher for about two years myself before she decided ‘well, I can’t teach you anything more,’ and left upstream. I figured everything else out on my own from there.”

Jameson suddenly stopped swimming in surprise. Are you going to leave once I’m no longer your apprentice?

“What? No, this is my lake,” Marvin said, confused.

Then...am I supposed to leave? Jameson signed slowly.

“Well I mean...not if you don’t want to,” Marvin said, now stopping as well. “Do you...want to?”

Jameson shook his head.

Marvin let out a sigh of relief. “Well alright then. That’s all solved.”

The two of them headed all the way down to the bottom of the lake, where Marvin found the rock where it had been dropped, and they soon headed back to their home.

The place had changed from how it had been when Marvin was just living there. Now, in addition to his knickknacks and magical items, there had to be room made for Jameson’s too, which made it feel more cluttered, but more cozy as well. Jameson had planted a few rows of kelp outside the house in a sort of garden, for both decoration and the more practical purpose of eating. Marvin’s seaweed bed was now next to a round, clear spot of white sand where Jameson slept. Glowing sea stars were more abundant, and in different colors as well.

Marvin rolled the rock into its appropriate place, then sighed contentedly and looked around. “Well...is there anything else you wanted to do tonight?”

Not really, Jameson said, shaking his head.

“Great. Me neither. I guess that means it’s time for sleep, then.”

Jameson hesitated, then just as Marvin started to turn away, he quickly signed, Actually, I do have a question.

“Hmm? What is it?” Marvin asked, turning back to face him.

What would you say if...He hesitated again. If perhaps...we lived together forever?

“Oh. To be honest, I thought that was kind of implied?” Marvin laughed nervously. “I mean, if you didn’t want to stay here, then you wouldn’t have been worried about it a few minutes ago.”

No, I mean as more than just ‘living together,’ Jameson insisted.

“What, you mean like...like partners?” Marvin suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable.

No! Jameson shook his head furiously. Not in a romantic sense, more a...friendly way.

After a moment, Marvin reached up and took off his mask, holding it in his hands. “You mean like...life friends.” That one wasn’t a question.

Jameson looked down and nodded. I mean, if you’re okay with it.

Silence. Then suddenly, Marvin laughed. He darted forward again, wrapping his arms around Jameson. “Oh, that would be great! I’ve never—never really thought about having a life friend, but it always sounded nice, and I mean, we’re already—I mean—you know?”

Is that a yes? Jameson asked excitedly.

“Well I don’t think we should do it officially until after you’re done with your apprenticeship,” Marvin said. “That would be weird, I think. But after that, yes, yes definitely.”

Jameson practically melted. He hugged Marvin back in turn, and the two merms ended up crashing into the sand. We should tell the others.

“Oh yeah, of course.” Marvin grinned. “Hey, hey, do you want to know something I heard from Chase? Humans don’t have life friends.”

Really? What do they do when they have a friend they can’t live without? 

“I don’t think that’s a thing for them. I think they either have regular friends or romantic partners.”

That seems foolish.

“Yep. Well, maybe it’s just not as common.” Marvin swam away. “Well...I-I guess I’m going to go to bed now.” He couldn’t stop grinning.

Good night, Jameson signed.

“Very good night.”

They fell asleep in their respective sleeping areas, though they faced each other. For a while, both were too excited to get to bed at all. Life friends...best friends who promised to stay by each other’s sides forever. Secretly, both of them were amazed it had taken them so long to make the decision. Truly, they couldn’t think of a better life to have.

[rainbowpacifiers]

Twin Kingdoms (A3! Event story) - Chapter 4

The first day of rehearsals is under way. Some actors struggle more with their portrayals than others. Meanwhile, Haruto contemplates the meaning of continuing work as an actor. 

Chapter 3 | Index | Chapter 5

Reni: We will now begin the read-through. Izumi: (We finally have the first day of rehearsals... The atmosphere is different from usual, so I'm a little nervous.) Haruto: "Father...I am so sorry." Shift: "Where are you going at this hour?" Haruto: "--Why are you here?" Shift: "We have been together since birth. At the very least, I know what you're thinking. Running away won't solve anything." Haruto: "I know that. But my existence creates an idle conflict." Izumi: (Haruto-kun is a little stiff. Shift-kun has grasped Lutz perfectly.) Tasuku: "Tch, that pighead! His brains are fossilising with old age." Azami: "Whatever the circumstances may be, you are going too far, Master Gilbert." Tasuku: "Now while the people are impoverished, it's ridiculous to have a war with North Aria. Neither the high officials nor my father are staring reality in the face." Azami: "It seems we cannot avoid the beginning of a war." Izumi: (Just as you'd expect from Tasuku-san. He does it in a majestic manner. Azami-kun must be a bit nervous because of this atmosphere.)

Reni: ...Hm. With that, we've read through it once. Reni: First, Haruto: I want the spirit you had during the audition. Reni: This might be a read-through, but you're trying too hard to say your lines beautifully. Haruto: --Yes. I'm sorry. Reni: Shift should show the intimacy with Cain. Be more conscious of the fact that you've been by his side as his foster brother since childhood. Shift: O~kay. Reni: Tasuku, the balance between Gilbert's princeliness and his vehemence is good. Keep it up. Tasuku: Yes. Reni: I think it would be better if Izumida's Sasha showed a bit more of his devoted manner in the midst of his hypocritical courtesy. Azami: 'kay. Reni: Do you have anything to add? Izumi: Ah, yes! Erm... Izumi: (Being focused on in the middle of this serious mood is making me nervous too...) Izumi: During the scene when Cain reveals his identity to Gilbert, it weighed on my mind that Cain's feelings weren't really conveyed. Izumi: Because I feel that this is an important scene where the emotions of the two shift, I would like a clearer presentation.  Reni: True, I felt the same way. Haruto, how do you interpret this scene? Haruto: --Eh, erm, this is, that... Reni: What about Tasuku? Tasuku: For Gilbert, I think he may sway between the impression of a prince of an enemy country that he's had for many years and the image of a Cain to whom he felt a sort of closeness. Reni: Hm, that's right. Haruto, think it over a little until the next time. Haruto: --yes. Troupe member A: That's Tasuku-san for you. Troupe member B: He hasn't changed since his time at GOD Troupe. Haruto: .....

Shift: Here is the dressing room of the common room and over there are the changing rooms. Though I think you've been here before. Azami: No, yours is bigger than our theatre, and I wouldn't remember it after one time, so this is a big help. Shift: Well, if you identify even just this area, you shouldn't be in any trouble. Azami: Oh, that's true. Should we get something to eat on the way home? Shift: Ah, today is kind of... Azami: I see. I'll go ahead then. Shift: Okay, see you.

Haruto: ....Sigh. Shift: Haruto-san. Haruto: Uwah! Shift: Your surprise is too extreme. Haruto: Don't just show up out of the blue! Shift: I was standing there for a long time though. Haruto: Your presence is too weak! Shift: There you go again~. Calling the presence of GOD Troupe's top actor weak~. Haruto: Seriously, your self-esteem is too high, it's annoying. Shift: Let's get something to eat. Haruto: Pass. I'm tired; I want to go home early. Shift: If you're going to eat after coming home anyway, we should do it together. A quick meal is fine, so if you wish, let's go to your place to eat together! Haruto: You are the only one I will absolutely not bring home. Shift: Eeeh~, fine, croquette udon then. Haruto: How do you come to that conclusion!?

Haruto: Haah.... Shift: Oh, would you have preferred the kitsune udon? Haruto: That's not it at all. Shift: Today's first rehearsal was fun, wasn't it? Haruto: How. Shift: You know, how Reni-san's instructions have changed too and all. Haruto: Yeah... now, he often asks the actors for their opinions. Shift: What we want to express, how we're interpreting it and such. Shift: It's really fun when a new form is created by combining your own opinion and Reni-san's interpretation. Shift: And he also teaches you what might be good in order to express your own interpretation! Haruto: Although until now, we were required to be something like dolls that were completely devoted in order to embody Reni-san's ideals. Haruto: Now, Reni-san looks like he has fun too. Shift: Are you not having fun, Haruto-san? Haruto: That's not it. It's just that it feels different. Haruto: (Because of the wall so far, I stopped daring to do my own interpretation until the first day.) Haruto: (From now on, I not only have to comply with Reni-san's requests, but will also be asked for my own thoughts...) Haruto: (Precisely because I'm required to do a 180-degree change, the switchover is rather difficult.) Haruto: (Though he, who is like a sponge, just adapts in no time and is enjoying himself.) Shift: Is there something? Haruto: No. Shift: Speaking of different feelings, I'm happy I get to perform with Azami, but it feels weird after all. Shift: Because he's kind of like a relative I've been with since forever, I should say it's sort of embarrassing, I guess? Haruto: The fans will compare us to the actors from their troupe, so absolutely do not let your guard down. Shift: I know that. Shift: But just as I thought, Tasuku-san is amazing. Like, his interpretation and such are perfect. Shift: Reni-san, too, really praised him from day one. Haruto: ——. Shift: We're not going to lose, right? Haruto: That's why I was thinking of returning home early and reading through the script to prepare for tomorrow. Shift: Eh, but your lines already perfect, aren't they? Shift: Isn't it fine if you just believe in the interpretation that simply sprang up in your mind, without reading through the script and thinking it over again and again? Haruto: You--! Haruto: (There are those who can do that without hesitation and those who can't!) Shift: What is it? Haruto: It's nothing! Shift: Weren't you able to do an interpretation of Cain during the audition properly, Haruto-san? Shift: I'm practicing with the image of that Cain with those improvised lines in mind, you know. Haruto: (Back then, my head was full with thoughts of being chosen because I wanted to confront Tasuku one more time.) Haruto: (Also, there was also the envy I felt toward Shift next to me, who did his improvised lines first and without a hitch.) Haruto: (I felt the same thing from Shift, who was discovered by Reni-san just like Tasuku was, as I have felt with Tasuku. Something I can never have myself...) Haruto: (When I took a risk and made lines from those desperate feelings which I noticed in that place, I was able to snatch up the lead role.) Haruto: (And if I think that I shouldn't be excited, it's because of that shameful sight of that first of day of rehearsals.) Haruto: (After all, I...) Haruto: Don't you ever have these moments when you become afraid of continuing as an actor? Shift: Huh? Afraid how? Haruto: Like not attaining success, or suffering setbacks and such. Shift: Hm... well, I am thinking of succeeding as an actor and wanting my family to have an easy life, but if I can't do that, then yeah, I feel scared... Shift: Since I was promoted to a regular troupe member, the stage performance fee and the royalties from the merchandise goods have been steadily increasing, which has helped my household budget. Shift: To be honest, I don't think I'm very worried about the current situation. Haruto: ....so it's like that in your case. Shift: On the contrary, if it's something other than a financial matter for the actor, what else would be the cause for failure? Haruto: ...Something like fear that you might not be the "real thing"? Shift: The "real thing"? Shift: So no one but "really good" people should act?  Haruto: No, that's not it. Haruto: It's just that, as long as you're acting, anyone would think that they probably have real talent and that they want to be acknowledged. Haruto: But the reality isn't like that. If someone is chosen to be the lead, someone else is not. Haruto: There are only a small number of "real deals" that are acknowledged by a lot of people. Haruto: If you know that you're not one of those handfuls, you'd normally become scared, right? Haruto: As a "fake" that will soon be replaced by another actor, should I cling to acting? Or give up on being an actor?... Shift: But if you continue, you might become the real thing one day. Haruto: ——. Haruto: (In any case...you're already one of the people on that side. I can tell by looking at you when you are on stage.) Haruto: (Though it's not like I can say that to your face.) Haruto: (Supposing I can never become the real deal... what would be the meaning of me still continuing with acting?)  Haruto: (Just what am I continuing as an actor for?...) Shift: You will definitely be just fine. I acknowledge you. Haruto: Even if you do... Shift: So let's do our best together from now on too. At the reborn GOD Troupe! Haruto: I'm tellin' ya not to just call us reborn as ya please!

_______________

Chapter 3 | Index | Chapter 5

[animebaby00]

Request: Makoto/Haru

Makoto and Haru in university. Makoto is involved in an accident. Haru called out of class. Their story of recovery. Makoto with a broken leg/ribs and Haru from the traumatic fear of almost losing Makoto. Haru takes care of Makoto.

Phew ! I'm so sorry this took awhile to get out! But it's here and ready for you! I hope you like it!

Our Pain is Also Our Strength

(WARNING: Mentions of car accidents below)

Haru knew something was wrong the moment he got called out of swim practice at Hidaka University. The odd feeling he got when he was told to go to the office. It made his skin prickle with unease and made his hands become sweaty and cold, creating a heavy sensation that felt like a rock was sitting deep in the middle of his stomach.

It was such a rare occurrence. On one hand alone, he could count the amount of times he'd been taken out of class during all of his years in elementary school and highschool. Most of the time, it had been for medical reasons, things involving family. But as far as he knew, there was no such issue in any of those departments. 

Until today. 

Static rang in his ears upon hearing it. A woman at a desk muttered something to him, a collection of about 30 words, but Haru only registered 3 as he ran out of the school's building and to the nearest train station

Makoto, accident, and hospital.

Those were the words that repeated over and over and over again in his mind and not just because of their connections, but because Haru just couldn't register…

How? And why? 

He wasn't even sure what "accident" meant. Did he fall? Injure himself? Did something happen at work? Did someone step out of line and hurt him? He hoped it wasn't that. 

Who would even hurt someone who was as nice,sweet, and considerate as Makoto? 

So many questions that Haru didn't know the answer to. And that scared him.

However, that feeling increased tenfold when he was told at the reception that Makoto was in the emergency ward as well as full detail of what happened. 

It was a traffic accident. Not as extreme as most but effective enough to cause a significant amount of damage. Makoto had been at an intersection at the corner, preparing to turn, and some bastard had run a red light. 

Makoto's car had spun around due to the compact and the driver's side had collided with the base pole of another stoplight on the adjacent side of the street, trapping him inside. Supposedly, he had been unconscious when the paramedics arrived on the scene, but had woken up due to all the commotion. That was all the information Haru had collected until he just couldn't take it anymore and promptly asked where Makoto's room was. 

He excused himself from the individuals he had bumped into to get there, apologized for pushing himself into the already full elevator that would take him to the proper floor. He didn't feel bad though, considering that he was damn sure that anyone who was in his situation with a boyfriend who was in an unknown state after an unfortunate accident would be in a rush just like he was in now. 

Finally, he arrived, and he wasted no time in entering, desperation and worry gnawing away down into his bones. 

"Makoto ?" He asked urgently, practically sprinting inside the room, "Makoto ? Are you in here ?" 

"H-Haru ?"

His blood froze, eyes widening at Makoto's voice.

It sounded so weak.

Slowly, Haru peered around the privacy curtain in the center of the room that divided off the bed from a double sink area and an extra IV stand, gaze resting on the inhabitant in the bed he had been so worriedly aching to see. 

And the sight he was met with utterly knocked the wind out of him. 

He'd never ever thought that he'd have to see Makoto, his Makoto, in a state like this. 

The first thing he noticed was the cast, huge, bulky, riding all the way from the top of Makoto's foot to his midthigh, elevated with a stack of thick hospital pillows. Crisp, clean bandages were thickly wrapped on a few sections of his arms, but a more noticeable one was wrapped widely around his chest area, their whiteness off set by the splotches of several bruises that littered his skin. There were a few butterfly bandages on his forehead and over his brow to seal the more minor injuries, and several IV cords were dangling from the holders above, administering from what Haru could count as 3 different medications.

And Makoto sat in the middle of it all, and still managed to,somehow, keep that damned, adorable, beautiful smile on his face. It was smaller than usual, but still, it was there.

All too quickly, he found himself rushing forward in angry, terrified, relief to Makoto's side. He pulled him into his arms the best he could without hurting him, not giving a damn when the hot tears that he didn't even know he was holding in, cascaded in waterfalls down his face. 

"M-Makoto," he hiccuped, burying his face into the crook of his neck, "God, Makoto…" 

He could feel the bigger male hum against his ear, warm arms and hands encircling his back, "It's okay, Haru. I'm alright. I'm here."

"S-shut up. Y-you almost…" he pulled away, furiously wiped at his face, and proceeded to cup Makoto's cheeks in his hands, gliding his fingers over his jaw, his cheekbones, and the bridge of his nose, committing every single feature to absolute memory. He leaned forward, allowing their foreheads to touch and he let out a shaky sigh.

"D-do you know how m-much that s-scared me? I...I thought you-"

"Hey, come on." Makoto's soft voice eased, grabbing onto the hands that were cradling his face, ""Don't think like that."

"How can I not?!" Haru wept, voice cracked like broken glass, "This isn't something we can just forget about! I could've lost you today, Makoto !" 

"I know…" the injured male trailed, hurt by his boyfriend's distressed outburst. He couldn't blame him though. If Haru had been the one in his position, he would probably be saying the exact same thing right now. 

He grabbed the distressed male's hands in his own. 

They were covered in cold sweat, but Makoto didn't mind in the slightest. 

"Haru please, calm down. There's nothing we can do right now until the doctor comes back in so let's just...talk. Okay?" 

A light pressure could be felt against his palms and Haru looked down, noticing the gentle squeeze from Makoto's fingers. His staggered breathing calmed some and he closed his eyes.

"Y-you're right." He stammered, amazed at how easy it was for him to calm down by Makoto's simple touch, "I'm sorry. Anger is the last thing you need. I shouldn't have come in so...so"

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. If I were you, I probably would have done the same thing," he ghosted his fingers over Haru's knuckles, "You have every right to be upset and it would be a lie if I said I wasn't upset too. No one wants to be in the...position that I'm in right now. It's not exactly ideal, or comfortable for that matter."

Haru's eyes immediately widened, "Are you in pain?" he  fretted, to which he got an immediate reply of a shaking of a head. 

"No, not really. They've been pumping me full of drugs since I've got here. If anything, I just feel really sluggish and tired, but I can't really find the ability to sleep. They didn't want me too just in case I had a concussion." 

"Oh…" 

"Haru?"

"Hm?" 

Makoto opened his arms, and Haru immediately shook his head. 

"Why not?"

"I don't…" he looked down at the floor, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Silly," Makoto chuckled, arms spreading the tiniest bit wider, "You won't hurt me. Now come here."

Haru looked off to the side a little uneasily, but then proceeded to scoot forward until he was laying in the crook of the space between Makoto's arm and the side of his chest, head resting on his shoulder. 

"There," Makoto smiled, "Much better."

Haru said nothing, instead opting to guide Makoto's face towards his. And in one, swift movement, their lips were merged together in a soft, heartfelt kiss

Makoto's eyes closed at the feel of Haru's cool, sweet lips on his, noticing the feel of his hand gripping his neck in a gentle, desperate fashion as he carded his fingers through Haru's soft, dark hair. Those actions were a silent agreement that right now, this was what they needed most.

~~~~~~~

"There. Does that feel okay? Not too high? Do you need me to move anything?"

Makoto chuckled, "It feels perfect Haru. Thank you."

He nodded, "I'll be right back with the ice, do you want anything from the kitchen while I'm in there ?" 

"No, I'm okay. Just the ice is fine."

"Okay…"

It's been 2 weeks since Makoto's accident, and during that time, Haru had been doing absolutely everything he could to aid in Makoto's recovery. 

When the doctor had come back in to speak to the both of them, he had revealed that Makoto had a plethora of injuries. 

He didn't have a concussion which was good, but he did suffer from a broken right leg, 2 broken ribs, some cuts and bruises, and he had to get a few stitches on a cut above his eyebrow. They were certainly grateful they both had good medical insurance and savings since it was obvious that Makoto was going to be down for some time. 

The doctor gave him an estimation of 2 months with the cast and an additional month with a leg brace as well as some light physical therapy. All in all, a supposed 3 month period before he would make a full recovery. 

That meant, he couldn't coach, teach, or swim at all until that time period was up. He had also been put on strict bed rest for 3 weeks minus the necessary actions of using the bathroom, to which he had to use crutches to do so in addition to any other walking around that he did. At least Makoto only had 1 week of bedrest left, and he was grateful for that. He was also immensely grateful for all of the things Haru had been doing to take care of him. 

The chores around the house; cooking, cleaning, laundry, and the shopping. Making sure he was comfortable at all times, helping him bathe and get dressed while also attending college on top of it all. Haru was doing it all and it was definitely a lot to take care of. And while Makoto deeply appreciated it...he couldn't help but feel bad, but he knew there was nothing he could do except help out in the tiny increments where he could while also ensuring Haru that he was fine.

Which he was having to do a lot as of late. 

"Here, I have your ice."

Makoto snapped his head up, "Hm? Oh, thank you Haru!" 

"No problem…"

Haru gently set the ice pack to lay steadily on the base of Makoto's cast then took a seat next to the temporarily disabled male, head moving to lay on his shoulder as he grabbed the remote to randomly scan through the TV channels. 

Makoto shifted his position slightly, arm raising to rest over Haru's shoulders. Even from the slight touch, Makoto could feel how tense they were. He gently ran his hand over them, even turning it up to smooth at the base of Haru's neck where his hair ended, and he frowned slightly as the rumble of a yawn left Haru's lips.

"Are you tired?" 

"A little."

"Why don't you get some sleep…"

"I'm fine."

"But Haru-" 

"I have to take care of you."

A sigh left Makoto's lips. This was growing to be his response for absolutely everything. He gently squeezed his boyfriend's shoulder.

"I'll be fine for a few hours. You need to stop thinking about me so much and also take some time to look after yourself. You're exhausted Haru, anyone can see that."

Haru shook his head "It was just that stupid nightmare I had. It woke me up a few times, that's all. I'll sleep better tonight." 

A deeper frown etched it's way onto Makoto's lips. 

Every so often for the last few nights, he was aware that Haru had been struggling to get a good night's sleep.  It was only about a week ago that Haru shared the information that he was having nightmares about the accident and Makoto was devastated. But once again, he couldn't blame him, even though he had told Haru to wake him on the occasions that he did have them so that he could at least talk and try to quell the feelings they caused for his traumatized love. From what Haru told him, they weren't pleasant, almost all of them resulting in a twisted, gory ending that was nowhere close to what actually happened.

"Haru…" Makoto whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't want to bother you. You need rest."

"And so do you." 

Makoto guided his other hand under Haru's chin, inwardly wincing as the action caused a twinge of pain to shoot through his chest, but he didn't care. Slowly, he guided Haru's head to look at him, green to a heavy, exhausted, dark-circle rimmed blue.

"Listen, I know you're worried about me, and you have every right to be. What happened was... uneventful. And it was unexpected and scary. I get that. But you wearing yourself down to care for me isn't going to help anything."

Haru pressed his lips together, and looked downwards, "...It's not just that." 

"Huh? What do you mean?"

 "Why I'm doing this? It's not just to help you. It's..." he looked back up, eyes now brimming with tears " It's so that I'm always with you. I don't want to leave your side."

Makoto felt his heart jitter uncomfortably in his chest, "Oh, Haru…"

"What happened two weeks ago," he started suddenly, "It scared me. I...I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life. Seeing you like that...it just showed me what life can do to you." 

Makoto stayed silent as Haru continued, his voice growing to become tight and strained.

"All I can picture is what else could have happened. I just can't get it out of my head. I don't want to have nightmares, I don't want to be fearful. But I realized then, when I saw you…" he swallowed thickly, and gripped the fabric of Makoto's t-shirt, tears falling.

"I saw how fast things can be taken away from you. How fast you can lose the things you care about, and I don't ever want you to be taken away from me…!"

Makoto was at a loss for words as Haru cried into his shoulder. This whole time, he was so scared, terrified, and he left it eating away at him until he couldn't anymore. 

This accident affected the both of them, sure. But it had affected Haru so much more that he originally thought. 

"Hey," Makoto urged gently, tilting Haru's face up "Come on Haru, look at me." 

He did, slowly, his eyes soaked with tears. Makoto smiled warmly and wiped them away with his thumbs. 

"I won't ever be taken away from you, I want you to know that right now. Nothing could ever, EVER separate us so I don't want you to be scared that something will." Makoto looked downwards at his cast, " Accidents happen whether we want them to or not, and they can do a significant amount of damage and that's something I should have paid more attention to in regards to you."

Haru shook head, "No, Makoto I-" 

"Shh," he was stopped by a finger against his lips,"This took a toll on you just as much as it did me and I should've noticed that. It scared you and made you fearful and I should have done more to prevent that. You can't lie now and brush it off like it's nothing."

An uneasy "Hrm..." sounded from Haru's throat and he watched as Makoto reached down and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. 

"Let me say one thing though." He whispered softly, stroking the skin on the top of Haru's hand, "You can stay by my side as long as you need and help me when I need it, but let me at least do something to help you." 

He firmly set his gaze on Haru, eyeing his dark blue orbs, "I know it will take some time to get over this. We both need to recover, me physically and you mentally. So when you need to talk or if you're worried about something, don't hesitate to come talk to me, and make sure you continue to take care of yourself on top of it." 

He squeezed Haru's hand tighter, "If we help each other, then I know we'll be okay. You believe me don't you?"

In all honesty, Haru could never make sense of how well their hands fit together, like two puzzle pieces, or a perfectly crafted lock and key, and it always offered a gentle, soft, reassuring warmth.

That warmth radiated everywhere, all around them, even in Makoto's words in that things would be okay. That they would recover from this.

Haru squeezed Makoto's hand back, a soft, quiet "Yes..." leaving his lips. 

"Good," he kissed Haru's temple, "Now what do you say we both get some rest ?"

And they did, bodies settled comfortably on the sofa, Haru nuzzled against Makoto's neck, together.

Exact the way they should be. 

[heretherebedork]

Hiya there! Just curious but what would be your dream BL? Might take awhile but any dream tropes, dream actors, dream aesthetics, dream character traits, etc. etc.

omfg this is a dream and a nightmare to attempt to explain...

Well, first, I have never had one dream in my life. But we’ll focus on one for now, okay? I promise, I’m being good. I won’t just start designing BL... I mean, I’ve done that? Somewhere back a few months I made up a soulmates BL based on my job at a school and I’ve rewritten H1: Obsessed into a longer show and rewritten the end of MGAYG a few times to be more to my liking... BUT OKAY I’ll be good for this!

Okay. So, first, we won’t be discussing actors because frankly I am SO bad at that kind of thing and I think it’s just for the best that I don’t. But, hey, feel free to cast it yourself if you want? I’d love to see someone else cast my ideas, lol.

So, we’re gonna start with a modern fantasy universe with magic and soulmates. I already wrote up a soulmates BL with the idea of them having the first words they spoke to each other on their arm... so let’s go with a different soulmate AU, one of my personal favorites, dream sharing! So you share dreams with your soulmate your entire life, with the sharing growing stronger as you get older but also much, much stronger the closer you are to said soulmate.

There would be three couples and they would take turns being the main couple (because I like getting together with some softness after rather than getting together DRAMAMAMAMAMAA). It takes place at a university buuuut just you wait!

One is childhood friends to lovers. They’ve known they were soulmates forever but have always assumed it was just platonic, as does happen. But it’s not because it is in fact MUTUAL PINING. Both of them have been in love for years but are scared of being rejected or losing the other person. They’ve even gone so far that they’re interning at the same company, sharing a dorm room nearby and basically together in every way except the way that matters. This is constant jokes where everyone else thinks they’re together and they have to remind them they’re not. Then one finally decides to try to get over and try dating someone else and it’s a NIGHTMARE and they’re both hurt and there’s lots of Quite Pain and Pining and they end up together because being apart hurt so, so much that it prompts a confession. They’re the middle couple of the three, so you get some development of them as friends but we still get fluffiness while the third couple gets together.

The last main couple is, frankly, my mental version of MGAYG. It’s former friends who fell apart and now one has decided to just not do love and the other is determined to help him out... but he sucks at it and just keeps hurting him. An extrovert trying to help an introvert to be more extroverted without understanding what he’s doing. But he LEARNS. This is a good, good slowburn that has PINING and lots of fiery fights and rejection and tons of angst on both sides and character growth and secret gentleness and someone in love doing the wrong things for the right reasons. For them, the dream sharing is actually horrible because they keep having nightmares about each other and seeing just the wrong moments in the dreams. This is all about fixing miscommunication by learning about each other. Now, the big twist here? They’re professors, not students. They had the same high school falling out but didn’t meet again in university. They met again post-university, teaching in their respective departments. One has to be an engineering professor and the other is probably teaching medicine? Although he might be com arts, tbh. But, yes! Professors! I want a professor romance SO HARD.

The first couple we meet is strangers/friends to lovers. They meet, their eyes meet and it’s like a lightning strike. Think AePete, tbh. Soft, protective boy and soft, needing to be protected boy. This is... AePete meets LeoFiat. This is love at first sight, sharing dreams, codependency out the wazoo, lots of hints at a sort of dom/sub relationship between then two, looots of possessiveness. They get together super fast and are just in the background of the rest of the show being goddamn adorable and kinky. They’re mostly there to show how the premise of soulmates work and the ideal for how it works while the other two are Not How To Do It and fixing the problems.

I have no idea about aesthetics. Uh. No one has the same haircut and they all wear lots of different clothing so I can tell them apart easily. (That is not an aesthetic, shhhhh, accept me as I am.) 

Obviously, lots and lots and lots of pining in the tropes. The entire show is pining, tbh. Obviously. Lots of piggyback rides, gentle kisses, forehead/cheek/neck kisses, hand holding, portable boyfriends ABOUND, height differences, soft boys being soft, angry boys being soft (But also a bit angry), some really good mutual pining... Hmmm. I mean, there’s more, but like... I could not put everything I love into one show. It’d be so chock full it’d stop working. So this is one. This is an idea. I’ve written others.

Honestly, feel free to send me a premise/job and I’d happily write a BL for it.

[eleamaya]

Fun with Zodiac Signs: Zack/Aerith/Cloud/Tifa

NOTE: Not really shipping related, this is just for fun I was idly doing based on tweet that came up on my timeline and people who try it are freak out of how accurate it is; even those who doesn’t really believe about personality traits from zodiac sign. This is the tweet:

So I went to “universal-tao-eproducts” and got what I copy-paste below. The sun signs are taken from their official bday. To get the moon one, you need to put your birth place in Birth Chart. I put Texas as Cloud & Tifa’s birth place for Nibelheim’s reference and the result is crazy accurate for them. I have no idea about Aerith which city in our earth similar to Icicle Inn so I pick the combination of moon sign that describe Aerith the most. As for Zack, since his bday isn’t given by SE (ugh, why?)... so this is the most accurate combination for me to headcanoning his bday^^.

AGAIN, THIS IS ACCURATE AS FUCK.

Zack Fair -- HC: Sep 23-29, 1984: Libra Sun, Sagittarius Moon (air/fire) why up to Sep 29? because he died on Sep 30

FREEDOM FIGHTER

You must have the room to believe and do, as you want. You most admire honesty, both in yourself and in others. You are never fearful to do what you think is moral or to say precisely what you feel. Your outlook is idealistic and your perspective is broad and extensive, but you may have some bewilderment when you find that others do not always match your standards of integrity or subscribe to your strange beliefs. You draw people to you with your free-spirited, courageous, and cheerful nature. Because your character is very self-governing, excitable, and restive; freedom is what you need most. You become incensed when someone tries to limit your expressive style or infringe on your way of life, even though you are even-tempered in most cases. Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses is a Libra-Sagittarian preference, so even if you believe you are always being truthful and uncomplicated in your dealings, there are times when brutal idealism stops you from perceiving the whole truth. Do not allow philosophy to rule every move or blind you to the more pragmatic parts of life just because your convictions are admirable. You like to play with abstract notions and ideas as an intellectual and details always slow you down. You prefer thinking about the infinite of surveying the universe to balancing your checkbook. Many of your lofty ideas can be put to good use in a more practical realm. Nothing is better for the Libra-Sagittarian than to go off on an African safari or an Alaskan expedition, so go ahead and book your ticket. Any sort of physical exercise is good for you. You are an idealist with love, as with all things. Fantasizing about your perfect lover is usually the start. You are a great lover and are giving, affectionate, and open. Unfortunately most of them stay stuck in your mind, just because you lack discipline. Mix it with some good old-fashioned common sense and think of what you could do with all that inspiration. The barriers have been broken before. Imagination is a very powerful aspect of your combination. Do not let your overactive mind take you off into Fantasy Land in the middle of a chat or a day at work. Fantasy is not a substitute for experience, but you admittedly you do need both to be healthy. It is likely that you feel a need to travel to faraway lands because your Libra-Sagittarius combination has a lot of restless energy and inquisitiveness.

Aerith Gainsborough -- Feb 07, 1985: Aquarius Sun, Pisces Moon (air/water)

TRUE BELIEVER

You are a very kind and helpful person and are able to identify and sympathize with almost everybody. Your innocent soul is humble, generous, and sensitive. You know the difference between right and wrong because you have an innate sense of integrity and wisdom. But your spirituality is not always synchronized with pragmatic common sense. You have no cunning or shrewdness and are completely trusting. Your faith in other is total and you would be eaten alive if other people were not so kind to you. Fortunately people never fail to respond in a positive way to your innocence. There is a dreamy look that Aquarius-Pisceans have and it seems they have just woken up and do not know where they are. This approach is used in everything, as though existence is carried on in several dimensions. If you see the entire world at once, you get mixed up because you cannot really separate the parts. It is possible a religious path might be for you because you are quite spiritual. Some Aquarius-Pisceans are even drawn to the monastic life. Furthermore, you may be especially tuned in to the occult and the mysterious. More mainstream people find this quite odd about you. Your imagination is strong and you have a very visual mental framework. Given the right motivation and teaching, you might be an artist or other creative entrepreneur. However you must acquire some direction and discipline from others to be successful. Without this, you are a ship with no rudder to guide you to your destination. You are a sponge for the stress or feelings around your environment. That is a strong influence on you. Meditating, reading, or listening to music from time to time is good for you. However, you must be careful that isolation does not take you away from involvement with others. High technology or heavy competition is not suited for you as a career. Involve yourself in a profession where you can use your compassionate and humanitarian feelings. Or perhaps think in terms of using your powerful clairvoyant skills. Because of your detached character, people might think that you are uncaring. Aquarian detachment may lead others to believe that you are not very sensitive, but the opposite is actually true.

Cloud Strife -- Aug 11, 1986: Leo Sun, Scorpio Moon (fire/water)

VACILLATOR

You relish a good battle and, in fact, if there is not a lot of competition, you feel somewhat cheated and let down. You are very motivated and determined, even though you show a playful image to the world. You probably believe that, if you ever revealed yourself, you would give your enemies an advantage, even though most of your enemies exist solely in your mind. Consequently you are very secretive in order to protect yourself. You view yourself and humanity with the greatest importance and you are a very intense Leo. Your approach is almost always a serious one. Jokes at your expense are not thought of kindly. You generally have a master plan for life, and you carefully follow it because you are purposeful, bold, and aggressive about everything. A kind of wall is built around you. You desire all the comfort, authority, and control you can get from life. You like material possessions and are sensual. Nothing can hold you back after you have set your sights on a job, toy, or romance. You go after your aims with quiet firmness, and your charisma, self-assurance, and ruthless willpower help you to get them. You have a lot of determination, fortitude, and a strong sense of purpose because both signs of your combination are fixed, but that also makes you obstinate and rigid, especially pertaining to your beliefs. It is very hard for you to accept the views or opinions of others. You are very independent and you seldom compromise. You have a very low stress threshold thanks to your rigidity. Aggression, irritation, or injured pride cannot be held in for very long and it is generally released quickly. You are obstinate and somewhat spirited. You are very insightful and astute to the ways of the world unlike most Leos. Finance, management, and business attract you, as do most things involving competition. You have probably experienced strong creative desires, however. A Scorpio Moon can inspire and assist the creative needs of the Leo Sun. You rarely follow through on those artistic desires because you are so worried about instant gratification including things such as when you might get your promotion or have your next sexual conquest. You might be the next van Gogh or Picasso if you would redirect some of those sensual drives and use some restraint. In this lifetime, when there is so much going on, your creative talents are not likely to find an outlet.

Tifa Lockhart -- May 3, 1987: Taurus Sun, Cancer Moon (earth/water)

PROVIDER

There is an insecurity and restraint about you too. This results in a person who shows an exterior that is stable, while internally there is insecurity. There is a gentle kindness in you that attracts others. You also have a charming and tactful nature to go with it. You realize that aggression does not work nearly as well as diplomacy. Handling people well is an inborn trait, as is your almost instant adaptability to situations. You seem to be on everyone’s side at the same time. You carry yourself with an air of confidence. You are controlled in your approach to life and this makes you seem secure. This combination has a Taurus side that is dedicated, motivated, and sensual. The Cancer aspect shows sensitivity along with imagination. Caution is necessary if you do not want to lose your own identity in this process of trying to please everyone. As you move on in age, do not allow yourself to become self-satisfied and smug because a big part of you is easily satisfied with your life. Push yourself beyond what you see as your limitations and this will surely help round out your life. It would be a shame to waste your numerous strong points and talents. Creativity in design or architecture are places you can showcase your wonderful imagination and artistic talents. However, professions that provide more financial security because of your Moon in Cancer attract you. Undertaking a career that is a gamble is unlikely because it goes against your basic nature. The Taurus powers of concentration and the Cancer Moon provide an ability to understand and remember what you have learned. However, you also keep a ledger grounded in emotions such that you remember every insult, rejection, threat or other circumstance for a very long time. You pout in preference to discussing your feelings of hurt or anger. You can become a cynical and sluggish person if you experience a serious emotional setback in the form of rejection. Obviously, releasing negative feelings like anger is best for you and this means expressing them openly. Aggression is almost unknown to you because you are a peaceful person. Luckily, the vast majority of people respond to you kindly because you will probably not come to your own defense. Occasionally though, it is imperative to state your views.

COMPATIBILITY & STORY RELATION

FYI, Sun Sign represent exterior self, ego---dictates what we want out of this life, how we view the world, and how we interact/express with others. Moon sign represent inner self---especially when you’re alone, a personality that is often unknown to others unless they’re so close to you and understand you on that level, reflecting emotion/feeling, desire, and fear.

Zack & Aerith’s sun sign is air; the most expressive tribe. Air sign is social butterfly, flirtatious, and they quickly drag you to their life. They are truth-seeker to put their right belief onto before action and curious about many things in the world. You also could see them externally similar as fuck and being happy couple, no need explanation, do you agree? Meanwhile, as the one who has fire element under the sun sign, Cloud has the highest ego and fiery personality upfront. You see how he alienated himself and pick up fights since kid because he thinks he’s the best of everyone. He’s also someone who hardly admit his weakness and prefer to cover it. But his exterior energy matches Zack’s inner self. His desire of what he want to become is what Cloud carries for the rest of his life and put into real action. Like the name, Earth sign, Tifa is the most grounded character and the most stable outside while Zack-Aerith-Cloud are turbulent/chaotic people.

Surprisingly, Aerith-Cloud-Tifa are emotionally similar as they all carry water element as their moon sign: sensitive, depth of feeling, private, empathetic. So they all can be compatible each other to understand feeling while Zack is the most rational one who uses mind more than heart. The difference is... As Pisces, Aerith is the most selfless. As Scorpio, Cloud is the most secretive. As Cancer, Tifa is the most nurturing. Meanwhile, Zack & Tifa has no compatibility, both of their sun and moon sign are all opposites. Story-wise, they also have no interaction other than a week in Nibelheim where Tifa guided Zack to Nibel reactor, texted him about blond SOLDIER, and he felt responsible for the incident happened to her.

PS: I also search for Barret (Dec 15, 1972) and tweet it on my Twitter account, he’s Zack’s reversion: Sagittarius Sun-Libra Moon; probably gonna do more characters!