#cosmo sees some dead people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moondirti · 1 year

Text

7. PROPOSITION

CHAPTER SEVEN OF ANIMALIC | MIGUEL O'HARA X F!READER

↼ chapter six / chapter eight ⇀

summary: a proposition is made in hope for new beginnings

mature | 4.7k words warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, apocalypses, death, decay, blood, injury, sexual tension, angst, no use of y/n notes: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL. anyway repost lol

During the liminal period between detonation and your understanding of it, you’d been convinced of your own fatality. Dead girl walking; the shell-shocked mantra playing in an unremitting loop as you navigated the flattened planes of your once-home.

New York was a ghost town. Or – town isn’t exactly the proper verbiage, not when it comes to describing the hollowed locale. It’d been flushed of all its previous pomp; skeletal buildings with their windows blown to bits, light posts bent at the root, central park a glorified bonfire pit for skyscraping flames. In truth, when you’d awoken, you couldn’t recognise your whereabouts.

That was the basis for which you told yourself it was a dream. Everything existed as a distorted reflection of what you were familiar with, a fucked plane capable only of occuring in feverish delirium. The bite, you’d accepted – nodding to yourself grimly. You must’ve gotten sick again and passed out before the speech, transported to some stuffy hospital that pinned you with needles full of hallucinogens. How else could you have explained your occult ability to phase through walls, or the complete absence of people?

(In hindsight, it was denial more than anything.)

Yet time progressed on a tortoise’s shell, marching with all the leisure of reality. It didn’t jump like it would’ve had your consciousness been in charge, with its aversion to the mundane and grotesque. No; you’d started to see the faults in your logic when the substance that perpetually fell from the sky proved to be human ash, or when – the further down you travelled – maturating flesh increasingly marked your path. You’ve never known your mind to be so cruel.

So, dead.

If so, then you’d settled on purgatory. A state where souls atone for their unforgiven sins and are purified. It was an interim solution; you weren’t the religious type, anyway. But maybe that'd been it. Maybe you’d been given a last hope at redemption, thrust in a distinctive nightmare to comprehend how much worse hell could be. At least you lacked pain, at least you were dressed – clad in the silk of your gala gown. But the sky had been red, covered in a sheet of dismal smoke, and you couldn’t see the stars at night.

It was a sign; you’d failed at reaching them.

The notion had paralysed you for days, tearing at the false comfort you’d wrapped yourself in up to that point. You’d weeped, and tested the limits to your intangibility with lacking enthusiasm. Blotchy faced, snotty nosed – passing your arm through rubble, succeeding, then trying the same with your feet, which abraded against the rough surface instead. The inconsistency was hard to keep up with, but the task at least distracted you from a profuse existentialism.

You’d heeded no patterns; some days, you were completely nonphysical. Or, parts of you remained that way, while others shifted back to palpability. It’d been a tug of war, dependent entirely on your mood and a greater scheme you had no part of. With your limited comprehension, it’d only guaranteed the purgatory hypothesis. Not mortal, nor spirit. Stuck in a great between.

(What heaven was worth this? Who deemed it so?)

The guessing game got old. You’d needed something else – more than water, or a fresh change of clothes; good, honest science. Truth. You couldn’t move on until you’d had reason to believe the outcome could justify this.

You turned to the cosmos then, impartial as ever, despite their discernible absence. They were still there, you knew. Just beyond the firestorms, the sun burnt bright enough to penetrate smog. Its hazy glow provided an alternate reminder of something for you to still pursue – wherever it was, wherever you were. You couldn’t be sure that an afterlife meant nirvana or elysian fields, yet fulfilment looked to be the common denominator. An underscore.

To you, that would only ever be one thing.

Deep space, your stars – your Sol.

(It was hope in the one way you could define it.)

The threads started to converge in an instant of poetic cognizance. The Phoenicians had done it, and so too had ancient sailors. Stars for navigation, for reasoning. Of course. All that entailed for you was to certify you were worth it.

You’d started by cleaning. Little things, far from where you’d originated. A neighbourhood of collapsing houses, nested in beds of fine porcelain and dust. The times where you could use your hands, you’d sweep the debris onto them and deposit it in a hole, harrowed from a singed lawn at the end of the row. When you were immaterial – a state that had begun gaining rarity the better you were able to cope – you’d focus on mentally tallying inventory. Some to set aside, for whatever poor individual would visit next, and the rest for you. A diet of canned beans and bottled water was better than nothing.

Then, you’d dealt with the bodies.

There were none within the city, nor the suburbs. It was only when you’d ventured outwards did they start to crop up; thin corpses with leathery skin still stretched over their frames, starved or burnt or both. The smell had been putrid, reeking of pure rot, and you’d surmised that perhaps they’d taken too long to find salvation. It’d motivated you to keep working, burying them in marked graves with a plug fastened over your nose. You didn’t want to end up like them, as a chore for the next.

It was near impossible to keep a timeline of it all. Now, you estimate it as months, though it had felt longer. You’d gone through it with no milestones, or any inclination as to whether you were finally getting close. Cleaning the entire expanse of purgatory seemed too big a task to ask of anyone, immortal or not. Yet as the weeks crawled by, you’d started to reckon that was exactly it. You’d felt nothing special, no sweeping message from God alerting you of your success. Just more devastation, more labour.

(Were you wrong?)

You’d started to get sick again. Irritated sinuses, a scratchy throat. Every breath you took was more useless than the last, oxygen unable to circumvent your system. Smoke inhalation, likely. You’d searched for ventilators to help treat the symptoms, alongside pain relief for the sores spotting along your palms. There’d been nothing, and that wasn’t to say it had always been that way. Empty, orange bottles decorated every barren street, purged by apocalyptic gluttons.

(You couldn’t trick yourself – the dead had no use for medicine.)

Some fate must have willed it, though. It was there, in the seventh hospital you’d scavenged, that it’d happened.

A… being, no taller than five foot four, decked in a bright yellow suit and a hazmat mask. Loitering the entryway with a trash bag full of salvaged goodies. It hadn’t noticed you, preoccupied with routing the way back home – so you rushed into a nearby room to change into your gown. It was wrinkled and torn in places, having been the outfit you’d initially spent weeks in, but it was far better off than the grimy cargoes you’d adopted in its place.

You’d kept it for this; your day of judgement.

It – he, as it turns out – lived in a bunker, deep beneath the catastrophic surface of the state. You’d followed him there. A perfectly normal thing to do, candidly, for someone who’d forgone social interaction since death. It couldn’t dawn on you that he was surely in the same boat; isolated, cornered like an animal on its haunches. If it had, you would've made an effort to approach him with caution.

So, it certainly shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your ecstatic hello was met with an axe to the face. Naturally, it’d phased right through you, a feat which only furthered the old being’s terror.

God had turned out to be more skittish than you’d expected.

(“Blimey, whit the hell are ye supposit tae be.”

“I’ve been waiting so long–”

“Ye're gonnae get yourself killed wearin tha’ flimsy thing, lass.”

You’d felt so stupid. You should have surmised that the occasion called for modesty.

“Forgive me,”

“Whit is it ye want? I don’ have any food for sharin’.”

“Redemption, if you please. I promise I’ve been good, I just want to see the stars.” But of course he’d know that. “Sir. Lord, sir.”

“Is somethin wrong wi yer head?” He’d huffed. “It's tha’ radiation, I'm tellin’ ye. Or maybe I'm dead an’ seein’ things.”

Dead? Another lost soul?

“Are you not God?”

“God? Ha!” The human scoffed. “Trust that I wouldn’ be livin’ in this rat’s ass if I was.”)

It turned out that he did have food, and plenty – stuffed cans stacked in rows atop rows of nourishment. Medicine too, an age old ventilator that he’d tapped with a knuckle to spur into function. He’d agreed to let you replenish if you’d take a gander at his malfunctioning radio, of which you had limited knowledge on but were willing to give a try. You’d no idea what he needed a radio for in the afterlife, anyway.

(“The battery contacts are corroded, I think.” You had spit through a mouthful of corn. It’d tasted like pure sugar to your neglected tongue. “If it matters to you this much: baking soda to neutralise the acid, then a bit of vinegar over it to help wipe off the gunk.”

“Smart one ye are,” He’d pulled a cigarette from one of his various pockets, lip curling at your inquisitive gaze. “Don’ give me tha’ look, I ain' got none for ye.”

“I’m okay, thanks.” After a bit of deliberation, you’d added, “I’m afraid I don’t understand something.”

“Whit is it this time?”

“Why’d you set up permanent camp here? Don’t you want to leave?”

“An’ where wad I go?” His lighter had taken several starts to sputter a flame.

“Heaven. Hell – if that’s your thing. The cosmos?”

He’d barked another one of those sturdy laughs. “Ye one o’ them fanatics? That say wha’ happened wis for good cause?”

“Huh?” Tentatively, you’d placed the radio back on its rickety stool. “What happened?”

And all humour had drained from his face, his pupils hardening to flat beads. If it hadn’t been for the sudden shift in mood, you’d have gone forever traipsing on a fantasy. No; it was the tremor, the breaks in his once haughty inflection – idiosyncrasies that could’ve only been described as sympathy-triggered. It’d built upon your doubt, your already wavering faith, to strike you out of your mental regression.

“The Alchemax bomb, lassie.”)

He had a bucket for you to throw up in, slick with panicked sweat, unable to hold on to anything as your body oscillated between materialities. He’d made no comment on how your hands fell through the floor, or the knees that started to sink alongside them. Your fault, your fault. Any thought besides blame hadn’t time to develop, recycled for fuel to keep the cognition running. Your fault. Your fault. All this time.

(Who could you have turned to? You’d been praying to deities who’ve long since left.)

Night bled, and the man had retired. You’d stayed plastered to the ground, crouched over a slosh of your purged innards. The foulness hardly moved you; it’d felt good to punish yourself in that way. You’d taken to being your own arbiter, and such was one of the many reparations to come.

(You’d shunned the voice that insisted you deserve none of it. If you hadn’t been so ambitious, so blind to the flaws–)

You’d wanted to leave. So desperately that the wish had seized every cell in you, shaking them with a vigour unparallel to even celestial fury. You’d wanted to leave. There’d been nothing for you to divert your efforts to after learning the truth. Nothing you could have done to fix it. You’d wanted to leave. To anywhere but there.

Please. Please. Please.

Just this one thing.

The air warped.

You hadn’t noticed it immediately, still wrapped in your own misery. Scratchy skin accredited to grief, you kept rocking in place, bathing in muggy sobs. But it’d only grown worse, like a fraying fabric chafing along every appendage. Your dirty nails dug into your palms.

The friction peaked, rubbing you raw. You’d heaved in large gulps of oxygen, pulling at your flesh like it could’ve stopped it. Your jaw had unhinged, teeth clamping down on your thumb to muffle the overstimulated scream that’d threatened to break. Tears sealed your lash lines shut.

Almost a second later, it stopped, interrupted by the blare of car horns.

And, when you’d opened your eyes, you found that you were someplace else entirely.

Your fingers graze along something rough. At first, it’s easy to mistake as your jeans, the denim hardened in places with lack of care.

The space seems to have shrunk since Miguel fell asleep, slumping inwards, its rock walls poking your elbows and curved spine with a clinical brutality. It’s difficult to imagine how he feels; twice your size, unused to fitting those muscles through tight squeezes. Disastrous still, the low creak of the steel arch above puts a timer on your misfortune. The topic of your demise is of increasing relevance.

Perhaps he drifted off for that exact reason. To hinge on ignorance; an avoidance of this waiting game. Or, more credibly, to force you into a figurative detention. Think about what you’ve done, and what I’m asking of you.

In any case, it’s working. The trauma you’ve tried repressing thus far rushes through your conscience, carving gaping canals of remorse, lapping at its banks to keep it fresh. You’re convinced your heart could give out, wrenched in innumerable directions, the only respite afforded being the glitches that rip through you. You deserve to stay here, but he doesn’t. He’s always only sought what was right.

(You can fix it, do this one thing.

Though you can’t grasp where to begin.)

You pinch the fabric, tugging at it in a nervous tick. You don’t feel the tension across your calf, an observation that grows stranger the harder you pull. Reaching over with your free hand, you smooth over your pants. They’re still level with your shin bone, unmoved.

Huh.

There’s a mortifying moment where you fear that it’s Miguel’s suit you’re fiddling with, before taking into account that it’s impossible to twist the nanotechnology.

And it’s too close in to be a wall.

You delicately trace the surface with your pinky, searching for any discernible edge, intent on mapping out the overall shape to deduce its origins. Your arms wave about in a frantic fashion, but to your bewilderment, you find no real boundary. Weirder yet, it appears to slice through your shoe and a portion of Miguel's thigh.

Feels like–

Your stomach lurches, broiling in a bold concoction of thrill and trepidation. It throws you off guard, your brain lagging behind the reality your body already accepts. You know what it could be, having undergone the phenomena in several situations similar. An answered prayer during your lowest points – back at the man’s bunker, a few times since then.

Nerves humming with electric fervency, you tamp your hope into something more manageable, unable to handle another blow should this turn out poorly. Or – comparably – should you succeed; if this is, indeed, a portal. Your resolve trembles with the strength of a baby bird's wing, missing the survival instincts that once bolstered it.

(What would it mean for you?)

Biting your lip, you plunge your fist through to the other side.

It comes in contact with something cold, unlike anything in your little cave. Cold, glossy and… crinkly. A plastic bag of sorts, packed full of a pulpy filling. You’re tempted to draw away, disgusted, but redirect that intensity into inspecting instead.

The bag rests upon an uneven floor, marred by pebbles that lend a sense of ruggedness to the place. Outdoors. Downright filthy, too; judging by the clammy residue that sticks to your knuckles. Bile nudges up your oesophagus, inspired by the unidentified refuse you’re granted access to. Squalid; a dumpster, probably. Decorated in bursting trash bags.

But then–

Mooring yourself upon Miguel’s abdomen, you dip your forearm further in. The static off the portal’s perimeter sings with discordant vibrations, its intensity bordering on painful. It prickles the fine hairs along your limb, scouring any goosebumps raised with a grating ferocity. You stifle the whimper that arises as a consequence.

Your fingers dip under the trash, grazing something that makes you pause. Rubber. Ring-like.

The day pass?

Swallowing, you jerk it towards you. It doesn’t budge, stuck under the refuse.

(It occurs to you to give up. The moral dilemma its purpose poses is abundantly clear.)

Hooking all four digits around its circumference, you pull harder. The portal eats at you, hostile to the foreign intrusion. Any longer and you’re afraid it’ll cut your arm clean off, right under where that gutter almost did the same. Your adrenaline had been enough to numb the torturous incident then, both physically and in memory – and though you lack that direct threat to your life now, the setup is much the same. A situation where you’re finally in control, a reclamation to the morality you’ve long since lost. It’s personal – the scolding he’d given you like a knife to old wounds.

The prospect fuels the surge you need, distending through your biceps, reinforcing their efforts as you finally yank the bracelet out. The portal makes no noise when it zips back shut, but you feel the lull, its energy abandoning you to wallow, alone again. Or, not alone; you gently settle between Miguel’s legs, careful not to disturb him.

There’s a stark silence that passes afterward, a line of astonishment keeping it intact. You allow it, needing time to process the staunch implications of the day pass sagging upon your lap. Its lilac hue gives a faint light to your surroundings, illuminating the cranny you’ve only been able to picture so far. It’s about what you expected – save for the resting face of your companion.

He looks good. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t usually, but the peace that graces his features compliments him, rounding out any harsher edges. You trail your gaze up his neck, to the jaw that points to a pronounced chin. Lips that pout even over retracted fangs. An aquiline, masculine nose. It fits him, you think. Lends itself to the fluffy hair that frames his sharp cheekbones. You linger on it probably longer than you should.

That is, until you catch sight of the blooming discolouration marring his temple.

It’s partially obscured in shadow, yellowing along the ends and purple in places you don’t have the advantage of properly observing. Yet, the bruise communicates all it needs to, loud and explicit. You’re not in a position to procrastinate any longer; you’ve already spent a year running from fate. It might make you sick, your organs tying together in a nauseating knot – and every impulse in you might scream against it. To run away; to leave him here for dead. Live the rest of your life in peace – it’s only right, it’s only right.

Then, you remember what he’d said to you.

(“Explain this to me, O’Hara – what just providence made me spider-woman to a barren land?”

“It’s not fair.” He didn’t skip a beat, tone laced with a hard understanding. “But it’s fact.”)

You really hate him sometimes.

Bracing yourself, you shake his shoulder. He’s up in an instant, snatching your wrist in one warm palm. You wait for the tired mist over his awareness to melt, a stone lodged in your throat.

“¿Qué es?” He whisper-shouts. “What?”

“I–” Your voice warbles. Pathetic. “I have something for you.”

He squints.

(Rightfully so.)

Breathing through the hesitation that strikes the rungs of your ribcage, you hold up the day pass.

He doesn’t realise what you mean immediately, flicking back and forth between the bracelet and your furrowed brows. Realistically, his doubt can’t have lasted longer than a few seconds, yet you’re eternally paralysed within the anticipatory dread – a fossilised mosquito captured in amber. Even when he does eventually catch up, you stay still, letting him pilfer the key to your freedom and watching as his drowsiness sharpens into a pointed resolve.

And you don’t stray, not for the entire stretch during which he tinkers with its components. It’s not his aforementioned allure that encourages it, nor the sudden flashbacks to your earlier breakdown. Ridiculously enough, it’s satisfaction – a contentment at having finally defied your self-interests. You look to him like you had the sun back home. For validation on the path you’re headed towards, a small hint of a job well done. You’re too cautious of your own pride, betrayed by it more often than anyone else, but he–

He knows what it means to be a true spider-hero.

You hope that one day, you will too.

“Lyla?” Miguel demands into his watch, testing to see whether the spare parts of your contribution resolved its issues.

“You’re alive! Huh,” A miniscule projection of his LYrate lifeform approximation blinks into existence, tilting her heart-shaped glasses down as if to punctuate her disbelief.

“I came across a few obstacles, but I’ve got the Wr-” He catches your wince. “Our target. Set coordinates for 928. I’m coming home.”

“Gotcha. Can you wait until Reilly coughs up a twenty, though?”

“You bet on my survival?”

“Silver linings!”

“Lyra.”

“Okay! Alright. Home it is, boss.”

“And tell Jess to be on stand-by with an empty cell,” He adds, lowering his pitch to one more understated. You can’t lie and imply your appreciation – no matter what he does to soften your circumstance, it retains its somberness. You’re going back to that desolate wasteland, and this time, you have no will in ever leaving.

“Figured you’d want to get her in the go-home machine as soon as possible. No?”

“No.” He asserts, the decision rumbling from deep within his chest. You steel yourself against the shiver that wobbles through you. “I’m not done with her, yet.”

“Explain something to me, would you?”

You smell of lemon antiseptic and dirt, arms wrapped in fresh bandages from shoulder to wrist. It’s an unpleasant combination, exacerbating the headache that gnashes on your skull under these fluorescent lights – darkness having been an ally to your concussion. The acetaminophen they’d given you at the med-bay has done nothing to aid your pain, and you’re convinced that the only thing that would work is a long, hot bath.

That is to say, you’re not ready to have this conversation.

When you don’t respond, Miguel stands from his seat, exercising the prominent muscles in his legs. His sweats do their best to conceal them, but you’d been in close quarters with him for far too long to have forgotten the way they bulge and shift with every move. If you focus, you can sense them now, pressing against your ass, pinning you in place.

He huffs. You doubt your glassy-eyed ogle is doing you any favours.

“Can’t make any promises.” You murmur, before deciding against it. It probably isn’t the best time to test him. “I’ll try my best.”

It’s the first time you see him in casual clothing, which changes him – much like sleep does. Outside of his suit, he looks younger, on a pedestal closer to common man. A white t-shirt stretched taut across his chest, loose pants. Lighter colours, in complement to his bronzed complexion.

Get a hold of yourself.

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve managed to weasel your way out of responsibility.” He starts. Wrong, you want to say, because your breakouts have always been based on pure luck. “You threaten falling into floors, to phase through walls. Except, when we were trapped back on 15. You silently accepted our fate, despite having every means to prevent it. It’s telling, in my opinion.”

You nod, already aware of what he’s getting at. “Sounds like you don’t need me to explain, so–”

“You can’t control your powers, can you?”

“Bit late in figuring that one out.”

“Then how’d you come about the day pass?” He presses, not so much questioning anymore.

As it stands, you have two options:

To lie. It’s easy, natural after a full year of it. Your interrogator doesn’t need to know the truth if all he’s going to do is send you back, and with his newfound revelation about the nature of your abilities, it could prove advantageous to keep their full scope from his knowledge. You don’t owe him shit.

That’s Wraith talking, of course.

The you you want to be, however, beckons for candour. There pervades the confessional once more, a box drawn around you, prompting you to relieve yourself of all your secrets so you can be cleansed. Religion – a fickle thing, but it feels right, here.

Besides, who knows when you’ll be able to talk to anyone again.

“I’m not… entirely sure.” Your frown tucks underneath your teeth, and you suck on your lip while trying to formulate a coherent answer. “It’s happened previously. It’s like a portal, except it’s invisible and appears on the irregular occasion. I was thinking of ho– my earth when it materialised by my hand.”

His forehead creases, drawing in incredulously.

“You can create gateways into other dimensions?”

“Not quite. My working theory is that, somehow, the boundaries between worlds are thinning. I think I mentioned how my intangibility works?” He gives an affirming blink. “My atoms find the quickest way through something, so maybe they’re able to do the same through, ya know, the literal fabric of space-time.”

It really does sound idiotic to put out loud.

Miguel cups his face, rubbing away the weariness gathered in his wrinkles. There’s a plaster over the contusion on his forehead, overcast by rowdy tresses of wet hair. You do your best to suppress the image of him in the shower, steeling your expression into one of indifference.

“That holds up. This started a year ago?”

“Yeah,”

“There was a thing with a super-collider.”

“A… thing.” The scientist in you cringes. Though, you have no room to talk.

“All I’m getting from this is that, if I were to send you home, you could just high-tail out of there whenever the opportunity arises.”

His distrust shouldn’t shock you as much as it does. You ponder the best way to go about this, yet your tongue betrays you, speaking before you can lasso it back under command.

“In theory, yes.” You pause, waiting for it to sink in. “But I won’t.”

Some grand gesture of faith that was, you imbecile.

“Sure.” He stresses, unconvinced.

Taking a step forward, you crane your neck to meet his eye. Patchouli catches the office draft, clouding your head until all that comes from you is unintelligible nonsense.

“I’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. I don’t want to be the bad guy any more.” Your thunderous heartbeat drowns the effect of your proclamation. It’s hard to tell whether you come across as genuine or not. “All my life, I’ve only ever done what was wrong, what was selfish.” You rephrase his earlier reproach. “Let me be right, just this once.”

Your conviction sways when he tenses. No; this doesn’t feel honest, not even to you.

You want to be good. With all the fire of every star in this goddamn universe, blazing hot and colliding to expel devastation upon its neighbours. It shrinks up in your core, skyrocketing in temperature. It verges on explosion; a supernovae, life-giving. You want. You want. You want.

But, you’re afraid you don’t know how.

“We can make a deal?” You offer, plummeting to new depths of uncertainty. A deal requires mutual credence; for every skipped vow, you’ll lose out on something too. “Let me stay, just until I learn how to be the hero you need me to be. After that, I’ll go home – I swear it. And you’ll never have to worry about me again.”

He gives no blatant indication as to whether he’s seriously considering it. His head dips, and he turns his back to you, likely calculating collective factors to form the best solution. The way you perceive it, though – this elongated reticence:

He sees no other choice.

chapter eight

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be alerted of future updates!

734 notes · View notes

starreyblueberry · 16 days

Text

Fairys can revive dead people. Magic in general can, in season 2 we have two instances of it (a kid wishing their dead dog came to life and wanda and cosmo reviving author when he died to the dragon the first time). This makes me wonder how they see death, their immortal, they can revive whatever human they wanna revive, do they even have a concept of it? I know we have a hell technically but if timmy dies like when their 29 for some reason would cosmo and wanda revive him? not thinking of the consequence? have they had to revive any godkids before? is death just a inconvenience that can be solved? or do they feel grief? We have a canon way fairys die, but its never unexpected, its never spoken for every fairy. I mean cosmo and wanda went without wishing for 10,000 years, there is a way to avoid it, I just wonder what fairys think of death, I really do. Their son almost died for godsake- was that their first experience with death in a proper way? In the OG show, you could revive those who exploded due to not wishing, but what about now? IDK I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS AND SO MANY QUESTIONS LOL

#fairly oddparents #timmy turner #fop #fairly odd parents #cosmo #wanda #peri fairly oddparents #fairly odd parents a new wish #FOPANW

52 notes · View notes

chocogi · 2 years

Text

Wherein the Creator is also known as the Holy Puppeteer, courtesy of the people she puppeteered around to see Teyvat in its glory.

Your hair stuck to the sides of your face. The trench coat you threw on to brave the snowy walk to the mall fluttered behind you, tattered and torn.

You were bleeding, you were tired, and you were running.

They shrieked and glared at you. Babbling about disrespect and Creator and death.

Hot tears slid off your cheeks and froze on the ground.

Your lungs burned; blood and soot decorated your clothes. The footsteps you left behind in the pristine snow of Dragonspine stood out with crimson charm.

Your blood stained the snow and laced it with gold. The snow foxes emerged from the icy corners and watched you flee.

You are alone.

Your skin is sickly pale and painful, golden strings erupted from your fingertips, grappling for anything that may save its master.

You play them around for your entertainment. You watch their stories play and do nothing. It is out of your hands, you didn’t know.

You didn’t know, you swear you didn’t know.

The strings thicken and wrap around you, hopelessly providing what little insulation it can to preserve your body heat. You’re getting desperate, the hot pain of the string and the stinging cold of the icy winds muddling your conscious. Everything’s a blur and you don’t know what’s happening anymore.

Why are you here?

The snow crunches under you as you fall, wrapped in a cold, golden cocoon of string. And suddenly, you cry out in relief.

Warmth spreads through you. You hug yourself and immediately flinch. It’s so warm, why is my skin so cold?

You distantly notice you stopped shivering.

The heat ramps up but your skin still feels freezing and soon you curl up and what is happening-

It’s too hot, why is it so hot-?

Your vision blurs; not that it matters, all you see is a wall of gold anyways. The heat feels like its boiling your blood and in response you try to rip off your clothes, push the pretty walls away, anything to balance out the sudden heat you’re feeling.

Black spots invade your sight and soon your wall of gold is a cold dark void.

Your body slowly stops moving as it puffs out your last breath.

A shimmery golden.. mass is not really what Albedo was expecting to see in the desolate land of Dragonspine, but here he is.

Even more surprising is the flora growing around and on it, uncaring of the freezing winds and the lack of soil.

If there’s no soil, there wouldn’t be enough nutrients for it to even bloom, right?

Maybe it’s another spectacle waiting for him to study.

Unsheathing his sword, he trims off the stray threads and cuts into the mass of suprisingly durable string.

The Cinnabar Spindle falls to the ground. Lifeless black, as cold as the snow around your carcass, bore dread into horrified teal.

Constellations littered your pale skin and the fading cosmos stay visible in your irises. If that wasn’t already a dead giveaway to who the body belonged to, the golden string from your fingertips is confirmation of your identity enough.

Without waiting another minute, he buries all the string, cuts it off and away from your fingers, picks you up, and bolts for his lab.

The rest of Teyvat who knew Albedo are left to question why Klee disappeared along with him, why neither of them can be found anywhere, and why Teyvat slowly caves in on itself.

They look to their statues of you only to be met with more puzzlement when they’re met with a cracked and curled statue, once smooth marble now jagged at the edges, and gold stripes from their anguished, stone eyes to the bottom of their cheeks.

The statue itself is surrounded by a puddle of molten gold and withered plants, the sight allowing the forming pit of despair in their guts to grow.

aka chocogi challenges themself on how to say you dont know anything about hypothermia without saying it directly

sorry lmao i was dead for some time

edit three people want a part two so have my brainrot

#genshin sagau #sagau #sagau genshin #genshin #genshin impact #albedo #genshin albedo #genshin imposter au #genshin angst #genshin impact sagau #albedo genshin #thoughtless meja

2K notes · View notes

holographic-mars · 4 months

Note

Not an ask per se but something really funny

It's been a year since the end of season 1 and Soundwave kinda fucked off during that time but when the season 2 shenanigans start up again, there's a confrontation involving Soundwave and Megatron. Cosmos joins and it just—

Cosmos: Hey guys!

Soundwave: *Approaches Cosmos and openly displays affection towards Cosmos*

Everyone else: ???

Soundwave: Cosmos: Conjunx Endura

Soundwave, looks Megatron dead in the optics: Soundwave: upgraded

Megatron: *Confused and having lots of emotions* I—

Mars, do you see my vision. The amount of shade thrown around could create another eclipse. Soundwave showing off his new and better husband. In front of Megatron. Soundwave openly being in love and affection with Cosmos. In front of Megatron. Soundwave being happy with his conjunx and children. In front of Megatron

Mars, do you see my vision

This makes me giggle so bad bc I just visualize Soundwave, the absolutely gorgeous stunning jaw dropping woman to ever grace this universe and beside him is this little goofy lame looking minibot who’s just happy to be here and Soundwave is like yes I love him he doesn’t betray me. Like SOME people. And Megatron is like :(

They’re so Jessica Rabbit and Roger Rabbit coded and I love it so much.

Soundwave: I have to find my darling husband, I am so worried about him

Starscream: seriously what do you see in that guy??

Soundwave: he makes me laugh

Also Soundwave openly showing that he’s moved on and doesn’t care about Megatron is so real he got a better mech now

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK I giggled way too hard at this eehehehe ❤️❤️❤️🛸🛸

#soundwave and his little minibot lover who’s better than megatron in every way #and earthspark soundwave is already a massive thing #so I hope cosmos is teenie tiny and only comes up to his hips #and Soundwave can curl around him when he hugs him #dwarf the tiny husband #soundwave #transformers #transformers earthspark #earthspark soundwave #cosmos #tf cosmos #earthspark cosmos #mars blurbs

92 notes · View notes

aphidclan-clangen · 3 months

Note

Wait- if starclan is like god in this universe. And sometimes clan cats say “ star damned” instead of “god damned” dose that mean pearls stars pronouns are: god and godself!?

I mean, if a Saint Tine made their pronouns glow/glowself it would definitely be a bit awkward lmao

(shine/gleam/light/glimmer/radiance/etc. pronouns would be fine however)

In that case it would be closer to giving yourself god/godself pronouns (which I’m certain is a real thing!), but in my mind Starclan, as an Aphidclan-specific religion, isn’t really…a religion so much as it is a generalized belief that 1. nature and the sky are interwoven with mystical, spiritual forces, and 2. belief in souls/an afterlife. (infodumping mode activated /lh /affectionate) As a wild cat colony, they’re just naturally very strongly and culturally connected to the spiritual side of the wilderness and the cosmos, more so than a kittypet or city cat ever would be. They don’t believe in any god or any central force controlling or designing the world, I don’t think they even have a “creation myth” or an idea that there could ever be a sole “god”/deity-like figure. They believe in souls and an afterlife because their ventures into the spirit realm showed them the souls of their ancestors, friends, and even complete strangers. They know the dead can go whenever they please after life, because some cats have reported seeing these spirits in the woods with them, or standing out amidst the plains. But they’ve also seen the spirit realm largely resemble the sky, so they probably assume the souls of the dead live up there, and may fly down to earth whenever they please.

(plus the sky is also just generally a very..incomprehensible, mystical, “larger-than-life” powerful force to look at, especially when you’ve got 0 light pollution and look up to see a whole wide galaxy of beautiful unknown above you each night)

Perhaps the souls of their loved ones can even grant gifts and boons, or even curses, since the spirit of the wilderness and the sky is woven everywhere, and can surely influence the movement of a log, the calling of rain, the way of the winds, and maybe even the sickness of the land. Nonetheless, the wilderness takes lives as it gives food and water and a home, they believe this to be an entirely natural cycle. The wilderness gives, the wilderness takes, the wilderness eats and devours whole, and when you die, you’ll fly up into the sky, where you might even get to speak with your loved ones again someday, either through random sightings in the woods, in dreams, or intentional astral projection in more…energistically charged locations.

Even the Saint Tines don’t believe in The Glow as a person, but nonetheless a more congealed, solid entity than what the clan cats believe. It is a force of nature as well, but a specific one. The force of decay, of sickness, of life, of glory and triumph in living, that is hungry and gluttonous and never satiated. In AphidClan, you’ll never have to prove your worth or character to the way the winds blow, but to a Saint Tine, if you are impure enough, the Glow shall eat you whole, and you shall rot for all of eternity (and this is a bad thing). It is a strict and demanding force that will punish the unworthy and the impure. It is all very morally attached, very heavily wrapped around the idea of sin and repentance and innate existential value. The Reverend has a very large influence over the doctrine and the opinions of The Glow, as its speaking voice and the head of the church. (In reality, “the glow” is just the nuclear radiation they saw in the power plant the colony used to live in, before the power plant horribly collapsed for reasons unknown.)

In that way, the Saint Tine Church is a closer analogy for a Christianity-like religion, while Aphidclan’s beliefs are closer to that of general pagan spiritualist beliefs. The Saint Tines are a god-fearing people, while Aphidclan just believes in the innate spiritual power of the earth and the universe, who would be confused by the idea of a central god or entity controlling the name of the game.

As for Pearlstar, I think like…they’d be totally chill with pronouns, names, or titles that call back to the spiritual nature of the wild in some way or another, and in fact, it’s already a common thing interwoven into the culture. I mean, they call their designated spiritual leaders of the colony “star,” to honor their leader’s connection to the spirit realm and their initiative to walk between both worlds. If anyone is expected to revere the spiritual and integrate it into their daily life and identity, it would be the spiritual leaders of the colony. Cats are given prefixes and suffixes to reflect aspects of nature that they see themself reflected in. If names are viable territory for integrating the wild, the natural, the spiritual, then why not pronouns? A cat with breeze/breezeself pronouns is respected as a reflection of the wind, a cat with star/starself pronouns is respected as a person with a strong connection to the cosmic aether and the universe beyond. I imagine their kintypes work under similar beliefs as well, as the creatures or entities or energistical forces they see themselves very strongly in. A cat could tell their clanmates that they believe they were once a bird, and feel such a strong connection to flight, to soaring through the air, the clouds, the breeze on their wings, and that before their life as a cat, their soul once resided in an avian animal, and that’d be a common precedent that would totally work with the general cultural belief system.

So to summarize, glow/glowself pronouns would definitely result in getting odd looks and judgemental comments from Saint Tines (not Aphidclan cats though), but star/starself pronouns are totally normal, common, respected, and even a little expected in Aphidclan, and are…pretty much on the same level as giving yourself leaf/sky/cloud/tree/growth/breeze/etc. pronouns. S’just another factor of one’s identity that the wild may influence and make its home in, as it often does

#‘haha yeah funny joke!! [[YOU HAVE UNLOCKED LORE/WOELRDBUILDING INFODUMP NM. 5]]’#*worldbuilding #aphidlore #aphidasks #clangen #wc clangen #wc #warriors #warrior cats #though I’m sure Pearl had his star/starself pronouns before he was promoted #Star/starself pearlwish shocked to find out that he’s gonna be called Pearlstar now

61 notes · View notes

technically-a-kiwi · 5 months

Text

Time to develop some story for the cosmic au y'all

Nah 'cause let's be honest to this day this au was just "ooooh look italian man and crazy gremlin with stars and pwetty colors OvO". Besides I promised I was gonna develop on this au's world, so let's get to it :D !

So, in this AU, Peppino and The Noise are beings known as "Cosmic entities", extremly powerful individuals above all laws of physics capable of shaping there environment as they pleases and travel between universes, they're mostly located in their own plain of existence know as the "Cosmic realm".

Cosmic beings are born out of mortal souls (dead people) who've been exposed to a lot cosmic particles and stars*(not stars like giant lumps of flaming gas but in the cosmic entity definition, wich is roughly huge amounts of high emotions)

Peppino and The Noise caused eachothers death. By punching him on the skull, Peppino killed The Noise triggering the "Bye bye italian man" system he placed inside Peppino's kidney, causing a particularly gruesome and unpleasent death. But due to the ABSURDLY high cosmic particles exposure both had as well as insane levels of high emotions (mostly anger), these two became cosmic entities and the newest cosmic duo of the cosmic realm .

Cosmic duos have the immense resposability of making sure that no universe breaks the established laws of physics, for exemple by fixing universes that lacks a law or by stoping beings from that universe to break the laws of physics*(by creating a time machine, a device that travels between universes etc).

Of course neather of them actualy wants to work with eachother, especialy on something as delicate as managing the cosmos itself, but hey they literaly have nothing better to do and they just have to occasionally stitch back the fabric of reality or stop a lunatic trying to stop the flow of time, it's not as if they had much of a choice either unless they want to answer to the cosmic court (and yes cosmic entities have a court, and they look absolutely horrendous, like a lump of eyes and stars, it's awful) wich they rather not.

And so, a newest and one the most unstable cosmic duo was born

This is just a first draft giving out the bases of this AU such as the presence of multiple universes, different plains of existance etc. Sorry it's ATROCIOUSLY wacky due to my lack of skill in basic writting and my latency in english...

But anyway I want to know what YOU think ! Do you like this draft ? Did you expect another kind of story ?

If you have any question on anything I've said so far please feel free to ask I'll be glad to answer any of them ! Okay see ya :D

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #the noise #cosmic au

81 notes · View notes

soldier-lodbrok · 4 months

Text

So saddle up kids, because @holyguardian and I screamed back and forth and she dug up a few thoughts I already had but pointed out all these nice connections, so now I HAVE to make a post about this theory. It is probably just my copium, but ya'll can't stop me. You can thank Muddy for this. She shoved my brain on every aspect.

Of course spoilers for Remake, Rebirth and Ever Crisis FS ahead.

Glenn Lodbrok is still alive theory

"Glenn Lodbrok" in Final Fantasy VII Rebirth Okay. First things first. The man seen as "Glenn Lodbrok" in Final Fantasy VII Rebirth definitely is NOT the real Glenn Lodbrok. In no way or form. It just is a black robed man that Sephiroth puppeteered to take on the appearance of Glenn. His behaviour, his speech patterns, his apparent goals, nothing fits the real Glenn Lodbrok.

Even his appearance is off.

The black robed version looks extremely gaunt. Glenn in general has a large frame and muscular built. Here his cheeks are visibly sunken in, his hair is unruly and uncut, as is his beard, which is also way longer (and more prominent above his lips) than when he supposedly was last alive.

The SRC Situation/Where was Glenn last His last goal in the world was to establish the Shinra Resistance Committee, especially in Wutai and lead it against Shinra. They took over the Wutain government and installed an interim-government. According to Yuffie it is supposed to only last until the war is over and they can have independence from Shinra; then tthe Wutain people can decide what kind of government they truly want next.

The SRC does loosely associate with AVALANCHE, but they are two different factions, with the SRC seemingly using more political and Wutai-based moves, while some splinter groups of AVALANCHE go down more extreme routes closer to Midgar/within Midgar.

Glenn wasn't alone, but with Matt and Lucia in the SRC at this time.

It is notable that in Rebirth in the side-mission "Protorelic 4" in Cosmo Canyon Matt and Lucia are name-dropped:

So they are confirmed to still be alive at the point where the Shinra HQ was stormed by AVALANCHE in Remake. Now suddenly as leaders of AVALANCHE troops for the HQ in Midgar. So something must have happened between them being in Wutai as interim-government members for the SRC and now suddenly active in AVALANCHE.

Alteration with Rufus The alteration that happened, where Rufus shot Glenn probably all cooks down to that Glenn either:

- discovered that Viceroy Sarruf is actually Rufus Shinra

- or he knew all along that Sarruf = Rufus, but had an argument with him, because he found out that Rufus was not at all interested in a peaceful solution and letting Wutai be a free state from Shinra

It is more likely that it is the second option, since in Ever Crisis Chapter 8 Glenn mentions that "he has friends in high places" and gets his intel through them. He possibly is hinting at this being Rufus. Plus Rufus in Rebirth seems to allow "Glenn" around, as if he knows him.

He probably threatened Rufus, either with revealing his identity or with cutting him off from the SRC. It had to be something that enraged/threatened Rufus enough to shoot Glenn in the back cowardly, when he turned away.

Then it gets muddy.

Rufus clearly is surprised seeing "Glenn" again in Junon, stating that he thought he was dead. It is a "thought" and nothing more certain. Indicating that Rufus had not checked upon Glenn really being dead. [Also the wikia indicates he was "left for dead", the wikia is not the most reliable though]

So there is a possibility that Glenn survived this. Possibly being rescued by his friends Lucia and Matt. They aren't shown to be present at the attack (maybe just out of frame?). But they could have been led there by:

- Refu: the dog formerly belonging to Rosen, he already proved to be loyal to its owner and 'call' others attention to when his owner was in trouble and needed help; he did so for Rosen

- Sephiroth: the man was friends with Glenn, even in the Wutai war. Glenn gave him intel to rescue other soldiers and Sephiroth would likely have done the same for him in return. It is strange that Sephiroth seems to exactly know how Glenn was shot in the back, he uses the phrase "In the back, just like good old times." when Rufus tries to kill "Glenn" a second time at the end of Rebirth. So either Sephiroth witnessed it, saw Glenn afterwards or heard about it. Sephiroth is shown to still be conflicted back in EC FS, being loyal to Shinra in a way or seeing himself forced into that role. If we mirror Glenn's "You know I can't help openly, that is why you have to do it", that could work with Sephiroth directing Matt and Lucia to Glenn for help. He is Shinra, he can't outright act against Rufus then, but he can see to get sufficient help.

Anyway, Lucia and Matt could have rescued Glenn and brought him to safety but turned their back on the SRC or fled the area due to there clearly being dangerous traitors at work within the SRC. That is how they could have ended up with AVALANCHE HQ, finding refuge there.

Where Glenn could be during Remake/Rebirth times So why are just the two of them mentioned as leaders for AVALANCHE?

Either Glenn simply is not part of that particular mission, SE didn't want us to know, he didn't want to work for AVALANCHE or he isn't able to help yet.

Last option could be likely due to the severe injury he apparently got from Rufus' bullet. When he is shot we actually see a lot of blood (the most shown in FF VII so far) splattering from relatively high up. Almost looks like the back of his head, though at least Sephiroth masquerading as Glenn claimed it was a shot in the back.

If Rufus hit his spine that high up, it could mean he needs a longer time to recover, if at all, even in magical Final Fantasy healing logics. Also explains, why Glenn did not fight back (if we consider the same FF logic in which several characters already got shot or stabbed worse and still were able to get up and fight back).

He could be bedridden or even in a coma for now. And you know what happens to people who are that immobile for a longer time? They lose muscle mass and of course don't shave their beard as often or get regular haircuts.

So the gaunt and dishevelled appearance the black robed takes on as "Glenn" could actually BE how Glenn looks currently. Jenova's/Sephiroth's abilities to shapeshift can't be that shoddy, so maybe this is actually the most current version of Glenn, who is hidden away somewhere in an AVALANCHE HQ.

And as Muddy so nicely pointed out: you know whom Glenn, a man who is wearing a long black raincoat (not to be confused with the black robes!) would contrast when sitting in a wheelchair by then? Rufus Shinra years later, a man in long white coats, in a wheelchair, when he suffers from Geostigma. We love some nice paralells, even if this now is probably beyond SE's scope of aesthetics.

#Glenn Lodbrok #Lucia Lin #Matt Winsord #Rufus Shinra #Sephiroth #Final Fantasy VII #long post #tw long post #.headcanon #at least possible #let me have this #have to cope somehow with this all #ff 7 rebirth spoilers #ever crisis spoilers

46 notes · View notes

minhosimthings · 1 year

Text

Someone Older, Just a Little Bit Colder.

Summary: Yoon Y/N and Lee Minho. Perfect enemies. But when some guns and roses get mixed up with both of them, I wonder what the fates have weaved for their story.

Pairings: Fem!reader × Minho, classic Enemies to Lovers. Includes rest of Skz and other groups

Warnings: lots of violence, blood, murder, guns, swearing, mention of food, mention of dead bodies. There is a lot of violence so please do not interact if you are sensitive to these things.

A/N - I finished this finally. This took a lot of time and it is probably my longest work till date. I took inspiration from an edit I saw on Instagram. So here you go! Please enjoy this and feel free to give me feedback. I don't like some parts of the fic that much tho. Cause I was very lazy when I wrote them.

Song rec:

1: I need someone older

"No, no, no" Mournful voices were surrounding your frame. "No this can't be happening. Please Y/N!" Tears, not yours, dripped onto your skin as something red mixed with it to create a pretty little cocktail. "Fuck princess wake up! Fuck no....."

"Y/N! Come down quick! You've gotta get to school!" Another day of school. How mechanical was your life. In your final year of high school, you'd have thought that your life would have sugar, spice and everything nice. But instead, you got stuck with a robotic schedule, which consisted of waking up, going to school, coming back, food time, homework, checking to see if any colleges had sent you mails and then going back to sleep. But you couldn't really complain, because you were in Jeju Island. Literally everyone here had the same robotic schedule. Well maybe except for the richest people here. Your family was what was known as the middle classes. You lived comfortably, but not too plushily and your mom and dad both had jobs. Your elder sister Jinhee and you basically raised each other and now, with Jinhee, already graduated and married (since she was seven years older than you), you were left all alone in your turquoise room, with white borders and black finishes. It wasn't the fact that you weren't happy or anything. But, as a child of the Cosmos and as a ruler of the skies and tides, you wanted to feel that feeling that people had when they would roll around in the grass, or buy flowers from a sweet old lady, or wear ridiculous nail polish with someone, keeping the stories of the stars to yourself, whenever someone asks 'what did you do last night?'. But wasn't that why fairytales existed? To tell you that getting all those things was nothing but a mere dream? A dream which you hoped would come true? Which you hoped that the universe would understand your heart's desire and grant it to you?

"Be safe alright? Got your pepper spray?" "Yes ma don't worry. Im always safe aren't I?" Your mother kissed your forehead gently before letting to walk off to school, pepper spray in hand, knife hidden up the sleeve of your blue school sweater. The road from your house to your school was one of the safest ones. It was a suburban area, with families like yours lining up the street. You had no problem walking by yourself, and casually greeting the wakening families, with their toddlers and teenagers. You felt safe here and in the rare times there was some danger, you knew you could kick their asses (flashback to that one time you thought your dad was a stranger and accidentally kicked him hard in the shin. He still doesn't forgive you for that)

"Miss Yoon. Are you walking alone your highness?" That voice. That voice was perhaps the bane of your existence (not the object of all your desires. Sue me for using Bridgerton right now). A smooth black car pulled up next to you as you were just a metre away from the school. The windows were rolled down to reveal a young boy, your age with fluffy plum brown hair, cat like eyes, a sharp nose and a smirk on his stupid face. Lee Minho. Also known as the worst person you knew. And no this wasn't an enemies to lovers scenario. It usually is but this? Yeah absolutely not. Lee Minho had been your childhood neighbour since he was six. He lived with his grandparents since he was six, with his parents being in one of the richest families of South Korea and working in Seoul. He also went to your school, which was weird considering he was basically a billionaire and still chose to go to the 'middle class' school along with his his seven friends, who coincidentally were also from the seven richest families of South Korea.

"Oh no Minho. I wasn't walking alone. I have an invisible friend that you can't see from behind those stupidly pretty eyes of yours." You threw him a glare as his smirked just increased in size. "You think my eyes are pretty?" "Oh for fucks sake. What do you want?" "Language, princess." Minho chuckled and unlocked the passenger seat door. "Get in." You let out a chuckle and said "With you? Oh no thank you. I would rather go to Hell and dance with the devil." "Oh come on princess." Minho's face only widened even more to form the face of the devil himself. "You know people who die to even touch my car. You're lucky I'm offering you to ride in it." You rolled your eyes at him. So fucking cocky for no reason. You decided that you couldn't take it anymore and just started walking with a small 'I'll see you at school Minho goodbye now.'. Minho seemed to have taken the sign as he locked his doors, rolled the windows down and sped away to school.

Finally some peace. You breathed in the September air as you watched the Magpies fly around with their mates. You always loved Magpies, courtesy to your dad always encouraging you to birdwatch whenever you were free, with the pink binoculars you had. And today, in the serene September air, it felt good, watching two birds in love fluttering around, probably having a conversation about who knows what. There was that odd feeling in your chest again, that feeling which you pretended wasn't loneliness. People never understood the difference between alone and lonely. Yes you can be alone and you can enjoy it to your fullest. Some of your friends loved to be alone, eating chocolate, reading a nice book, sitting by the rain, all of those aesthetic things those Pinterest people do. You always craved to be like that too, but you never could. And you still had to learn to accept the fact that being basic wasn't a bad thing.

"Babe your foundation isn't blended properly come here. Hasn't Mama Huh taught you anything?" Your best friend Yunjin greeted you at the stairs of your school, with her bright unicorn bag and her perfect makeup as usual. "Sorry sweetheart. I really can't focus today." Yunjin gave you a sympathetic look as she blended the foundation on your neck with her hands carefully. "Is it Lee again? I swear to God one of these days I'm gonna go and tell him that you like him and then he'll confess to you and then this can be an enemies to lovers novel where I'm the sassy, amazing best friend who saves the day." You laughed at Yunjin's rambling. "And I thought Chaer was more delusional than you." "Do I hear my name?" A pretty girl with long black hair and perhaps the greatest jawline in the world came up behind you. Lee Chaeryoung, cousin of Minho and your second best friend, also your prettiest friend (sue me she's my wif- I mean my bias) "Hey Chaer. By the way have you guys completed Mr Hong's assignment?" Yunjin groaned at your words as she pulled out a red copy from her bag and opened it to reveal her messy handwriting. "I stayed up to finish this shit. Why do we need to analyse what a curtain means in Shakespearean language? Like I don't know. It could mean the heroine wants to be at an orgy for all I know." Chaer hit Yunjin's arm as you laughed at went inside the school to go to your English class along with Yunjin. Chaeryoung stalked off in the other direction, to her biology class, as you entered the class, where Mr.Hong wasn't present yet. You always dreaded English period, not because you weren't good in the subject, but because of the seating arrangement. Yunjin would always sit at the back of the class while you were stuck in the front with Minho. You internally groaned as you walked up to your seat, where Minho and Chan were talking to each other. Chan was a good friend of yours since your mom was the head of the Jeju Island branch of his dad's buisness. Curly haired, eyes filled with stars and the most gentle behaviour ever, he came straight out of a goddamn book. You always wondered how he became friends with Minho, considering both of them were as different as chalk and cheese. But then again, they has been brought up together, by their grandparents while their parents would stay in Seoul to run buisness.

"Hey Chan. Did you get those physics notes done yesterday?" Chan greeted at you with than omnipresent smile on his face as he nodded fervently like a puppy. "Yeah I got them done! It was really hard though. I really hope Mrs.Choi is absent today. So she can't call me out on my 'mistakes'." You smiled fondly at Chan as he took his seat on your other side, while Minho toyed with a blue hairband. Your hairband. "Minho where did you get that?" He turned to look at you and gave you that smug smirk again. "Why princess? Is it yours?" You scowled as you reached forward and grabbed the hairband out of his hands and stuffed it into your bag. "Yes it is mine! I think you'd know that considering I have been looking for this ever since the playground incident from when we were seven! Oh but I think you wouldn't remember that would you? Considering you're an ajhussi." It was Minho's time to scowl now and he scrunched up his nose like an angry bunny and stuck his tongue out at you, all while mumbling "I'm only two months older you know.", As Mr.Hong entered the classrooms in his pinstriped shirt and began asking for the assignments.

The rest of the day went as normal. You went to all of your classes, had a gossip-filled lunch with Chaeryoung, Yunjin, Miyeon, Sunoo and Jake, accidentally spilt water over Sunghoon from Chemistry, and got top grades in biology as usual.

Gosh September was good. September was lovely. People don't really get why September was so comforting to you. And to be frank, you didn't get it either. But there was this aura that September had that you couldn't shake. It wasn't just all pumpkin spice lattes or orange scarfs. It was..... Something else. Something you couldn't describe. You know that feeling when you bite into an ice cream cone? It crumbles all over you, but you love that feeling, that crunch combined with the sweet ice cream inside. That's what September was.

The bell rang loudly as school got over and you went over to the the basketball court. Being captain of the girls team, you always needed to stay back after school in order to train your team. "Unnie come quick would ya!" Chaewon, the team's greatest shooter called out to you. "Im not that late today Chaewon. That's a record for me!" Chaewon rolled her eyes as she adjusted her shorts. "Y/N are we gonna discuss some tactics for next week's game then? Cause I drew a lot of shit last night and I don't want it to go to waste." Wonyoung, the team's co-captain was nudging some papers into your hands. You gave her a quick smile as you looked over all the loopy drawings she did. "Oh and girls! Please remember to get your registration documents tomorrow! I really don't want to submit them late to Coach Kim." All your teammates nodded at your words and went on to the court, where to your dismay, Minho and his team were also practicing. You were annoyed. You had booked the court for today and has specifically checked with both of your coaches and yet again, your mortal enemy was playing with his team on what was meant to be your court. "Yah Minho! Get off the fucking court. We have it booked for today!" You gave him the biggest glare that you could muster, while he simply strode up to you, ball in hand, and that stupid smile on his face. "Aww princess. You booked the court for today? Well sad because I booked it earlier. I have a signed consent form from Coach Kim too. So either you can get off the court or we can have a practice game together." You felt like blowing up the earth below his feet right now but you couldn't do anything when he showed you the piece of paper on which Coach Kim had signed specifying that the boy's team could play today. "Fine then. But a practice game? Together? Boys versus girls?" Minho simply nodded at your words as you looked back at your girl standing behind you who were currently looking like they wanted to go to war. Seeing their determination, you extended a hand forward to Minho and in a assertive tone, said, "You're on then Lee. I wanna watch your pretty little face when you lose really badly. So what's the prize then?" You regretted asking that question when you saw Minho's face turning into that evil little smirk again. His team was assembled behind him and now you were a bit scared, considering that your tallest player was the size of their shortest one. "How about........ loser has to take the winner to that nice ice cream place that just opened down the street? And it'll only be us two. You know, captain to captain." Hearing that both your team and Minho's team broke out in high pitched 'ooohs' (yes even the Bois) as if you were doing something scandalous. You had no choice but to accept so you extended you hand again as Minho gripped it with his veiny hands and shook it firmly.

Chan and Chaeryoung were sitting by the stands since neither of them played and you smiled gently at them talking and giggling so fondly. The game started with one of the assistant coaches, Jungwon, refereeing. You were more determined now than you were at last month's regional games. You had to beat Minho and he had to take you to that stupid ice cream place. "Scared princess?" Minho asked as you assembled on the half line. You didn't say anything but threw him a smirk, hoping that it would catch him off guard. "Alright, ready set. Rumble!" Jungwon blew the whistle and threw the ball up in the air as you reached forward and managed to slap it onto your side of the court, where Wonyoung caught it and swiftly passed it on to Chaewon, who was standing by the hoops. You heard Minho scolding Jeongin, who was defending Chaewon, for not blocking her properly as you high fived Wonyoung for the quick pass.The rest of the game pretty much went the same way as you kept using witty tactics while Minho kept using speed and strength, which you knew was his greatest weakness. From time to time, his shirt would fly up ever so slightly and you would get distracted for a split second by his abs (which you scolded yourself for).

"Guys can you stop now please? It's 7:30. I'm going home now and you guys should too before they shut the school gate." Jungwon finally ended the game as you looked over at the scoreboard. You had won! You hugged Chaewon tightly before striding up to a very sweaty Minho who, not even in the slightest, looked defeated. "So, Mr Lee. You owe me ice cream now." He gave you a small smile, which made your heart leap, and said "Of course your Highness. Do you wanna get changed and then we can go? Or would you like to come being all sweaty?" You scowled at him and stuck your tongue out as you made your way to the changing rooms as he shouted behind you, "Meet me at the gate!" You quickly took a shower and changed into the tshirt and yoga pants you usually brought with you to change into after a sweaty game.

"Yah are you going to take me in your dumb car?" You questioned Minho as he pulled up by the gate. Chan had taken Chaeryoung home today so you didn't have anyone to walk you home, which was a plus point (for Minho). "Yes princess. Since the ice cream place is not at a walkable distance, atleast for my feet, we are going in my dumb car. And you don't wana walk home this late Y/N. It's dangerous you know? So get the fuck in and let's go. I'm hungry." You begrudgingly got in the car, silently admiring the sleep leather seats as Minho started the engine and turned the car. "Oh and Chan hyung already informed your mom and dad. They're not gonna come home tonight cause they're busy or something so I'll drive you back if you want." You snapped your head from the flying butterfly outside the window to Minho's concentrated face as you shyly mumbled a 'thank you'.

The drive to the ice cream was long and silent. You simply stated out the window while Minho stared forward, trying not to look at the way the rays of the setting sun fell on your skin or how your hair fell in that particular way that just felt good. Do the boys usually confess first? He didn't know. No he hated you. This is absolutely not fucking happening right now. You were Yoon Y/N, captain if the girls basketball team, annoying neighbour, beautiful mortal enemy. No not beautiful. Get out of it Minho!

"Uh is this the place? Looks cute." Minho's car pulled up near a tiny cafe like building called 'Jureimi's parlor', lit up in bright pink signs. "Oh yeah. I'll just park and we can go." You got out of the car as Minho parked nearby and got out too. "Is that boba flavoured ice cream?" You pointed at a brown coloured ice cream in ghe booth. The lady at the counter smiled at you as she nodded and gave you little sample cup. You offered a bit to Minho, who shook his head and went to find a table. "Get what you want. I'll pay." You rolled your eyes at him. He had to pay anyway for losing the game so badly.

You tasted the ice cream, which tasted like heaven and decided that you wanted this. "Can I get this in a cone please? Two scoops." The lady nodded and told her co worker your order, who went to the back to make it. You noticed some pudding cups on the shelf behind the lady. "Are those puddings?" "Oh yes. They're a new addition really. It's a favourite among all the grandmas here." You pointed at the vanilla one and asked the lady to give you that one, while you handed her the money and she handed you your ice cream and the pudding cup. You strode over to Minho, who was sitting with his legs wide open at the little round table in the corner of the store. "Is that for me?" He pointed at the pudding. "No dumbass it's for the Magpies." He gave you a sarcastic smile and grabbed the pudding cup from your hands. "I only got it for you cause this boba ice cream is expensive. So stop smirking at me." He looked up at you with those cat like eyes and slightly pouted, but remained quiet as both of you savoured on the sweet, sticky food.

"Dude how slow do you eat?" You watched Minho as he has halfway through his pudding, while you had already finished your ice cream. "Just slow enough to annoy you baby." You frowned at his words. "Do not call me that ever again. It's makes me wanna vomit." You made a gagging motion as Minho just simply chuckled. "Fine then. While I finish this amazing pudding, how about we play truth or dare hm? Because our impatient princess can't wait for five seconds without doing anything." You thought for a while before finally saying yes. "Alrightly then." Minho smiled at you. "Y/N. Truth or dare?" You picked truth, which seemed like the only viable option, considering the fact that you were in a shop, and Minho said, "How's your brother?"

Your heart dropped as you heard that sentence. How did he know about that? The blue shade of the shop spun around you as you tried to focus on anything else other than what just came out of Minho's mouth. Silence. Yes silence would work. Just give him a glare and it'll be over. "Oh come on princess. We all know what happened to your brother. I just wanna hear it from you personally." Your blood turned cold as your mind kept feeding you memories of that night. That faithful night. That peace filled night. That night when the Magpies stopped singing and September ran cold once more.

"Fuck you Lee Minho." Saying that, you picked up your bag and got up, slamming the chair to the ground, behind you. The lady at the counter looked up to see you walking about the door, pushing it agressively. "No Y/N wait!" Minho knew he had fucked up now. He had never meant to hurt you like this. He had learnt from Yunjin that you were already over your brother's incident. This was just supposed to be normal mortal enemy banter. How do you still remember? He quickly pulled out some cash and slammed it on the counter to the very shocked lady as he ran out after you. You wouldn't have gotten far. After all, you had to pass the school to get to your house. Minho quickly got in his car and started the engine with a blast. You had also left your headband in the carseat. So, that was another excuse for him to chase after you. He wasn't going to lose you again. Not now. Not when he was so close.

The street was dark and cold, lit up faintly by the wavering streetlights. This wasn't September anymore. You could feel December taking all the love out of September. And as you walked upon the concrete, you could feel the Magpies talking about you. You could feel the crescent moon feeling nothing but pity for you. You could feel all the plants with their bugs, looking at you and saying, "Yoon Y/N. You fucked up again just like you always do." You shouldn't have let your anger take control. But then again, when we deal with anger so long, she never tells us that her actual name is grief. Your brother was supposed to be a closed chapter of your life, but like a faded page of an Agatha Christie novel, he lingered on in your brain. All your family had far moved on, but you loved your twin brother, older than you by 8 minutes, too much to let him go from the dusty cabinets of your brain. You tried to forget his screams on that day and that cold, hard cackling but you couldn't. You were right there. Right in front of all the destruction, when your heart broke into a million pieces. Yet how could you forget such a memory?

"Y/N!" Minho was rolling up with this car next to you as you reached your house. The magenta coloured door was locked, your parents were still out on work. "Minho just fucking leave me alone. And I mean it this time. Don't even fucking talk to me." "Yn would you listen to me? Don't go inside the house!" What was this maniac saying? You stared at his figure getting out of the car and swiftly moving across over the lawn to your figure standing at the front door. "please just don't go inside the house." You noticed some figures behind him and you realised that Chan and his friends Jisung and Changbin were also there. "Minho what the fuck are you doing?" Minho looked at with what you thought looked like an expression of pity. "Just please don't go inside the house."

No you weren't going to listen to him. Absolutely fucking not. The last time you listened to him, you ended up in a mud covered ditch. Not today. "Fuck you and fuck your fucking existence Minho! I'm not listening to one word that comes out of that stupid mouth of yours." Before Minho could stop you and before Chan called out your name, you opened the door with gusto, only to be met, not with the familiar scent of Eau de Perfume but with the stench of iron. Your world came crashing down again. Your parents. Lying dead. On the floor. Of your house. Covered in blood. You were frozen. You couldn't move. A sense of familiarity came over you. You knew this feeling. This feeling of feeling like a thousand icicles had pierced your veins. All that came to your mind was him. No this can't be September. September was his birthday! It can't be this bad. No please don't let September be bad. "Y/N. Princess are you alright?" "Min- Minho. They're- they're not. No." The tears weren't coming. This wasn't sadness this was shock. "Chan hyung can you get her out of here? Jisung call the police. Now. Y/N. Y/N what are you doing!" You had strode up to your parents' bodies. Your mom was covered in more blood than your dad. Your dad looked like he was peacefully sleeping. Your mum's head seemed bashed in. Oh god the smell of blood. That night. All that remained was that night. You were too immersed in looking at your parents, that you didn't notice the creeping black figure in front of you. "So you're their daughter are you?" That husky voice was the last thing you heard before a gun shot, Minho's voice and the thud of your body. There was something warm on your stomach. And gooey. And red. This felt nice, you thought. Dying felt nice. If only he felt like this before....

Chan and Changbin slammed the man who had stabbed you onto the wall, destroying some photo frames in the process. Jisung turned on all the lights and went over to the two other men to get a look at the stranger. Minho, on the other hand, had rushed to your side, picking you up in his arms, towel pressuring the wound on your stomach.

2: Just a little bit colder

"Well well well, Mrs Yoon. How are the children?" Your mother cowered in fear as your elder sister and your dad were tied up next to the fridge in the kitchen. Your twin brother and you were in the clutches of some buff looking men. Eleven years. That's all you were. Eleven fucking years. "Mr. Wang I promise I won't leak the papers. I swear on my children. Please do not harm us." Mr. Wang or whoever he was striding up and down the carpeted room, white papers in his scarred hand. "It's ok Y/Nnie. I'm right here. It's just another November. September will come soon won't it?" Your brother, Doowon tightly held your hand and calmed you down, as your tears threatened to escape from their prison. "Mr. Wang. Please I beg you. Please do not harm me. You have the papers. What more do you want?" Mr Wang smiled at your mother. A cold smile. Shivering and undaunted. "Oh my dear Danbi. I have the papers of course, but you know how I do my work. I do not like bitches who butt their heads into everything. So I want your children to see how their mother is a little bitch." Mr Wang pulled your mother's hair as she screamed and cried out. "Hey don't do that to my mom!" Your borther screamed out as you but the hand if the man who was holding you. Both of you escaped from the clutches of the two men as Mr Wang looked on, slightly amused. "Or what little boy? You gonna beat me up?" Your brother stood his ground, not even daring to break eye contact. "Doowon get back please!" Your mum pleaded with Doowon, but he wouldn't listen. He stepped forward to Mr Wang and stepped painfully on his smooth black shoes. Mr Wang let out a cold laugh as he grabbed your brother by the neck of his shirt. "Grab the little girl too. Let her see how her twin meets with death." A man grabbed you from behind as your family pleaded and you thrashed around, trying to escape. "Let me go!" You screamed as the man took you upstairs while Mr Wang followed with your brother. You reached your bedroom door, which you shared with Doowon and Mr Wang slammed it opened pushing you and your brother inside. "Open that window, Brian." He spat at the man who grabbed you, while you and Doowon stood still. "Now boy. Come here. Come. Here. Now. Unless you want your sister harmed." Doowon looked at you and squeezed your hand before going ever to Mr Wang. And that was the last touch of your brother you had, before Mr. Wang pushed him out of the window on to the green grass below. Your screams had filled the neighborhood, scared the Magpies and threatened September to never come again. September's child,you told yourself. That's all he was. September's child, at the mercy of October.

"She'll be alright Minho. Just give her a few hours. She'll wake up." You were lying on an oak bed with grand purple bedsheets. You had a white sheet wrapped around your waist and your stomach, which stopped blood from coming out of your stab wound. Minho had taken you to his mansion outside of town, where all the sons of the mafias of Korea would hang out. Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Minho's brother Lee Felix Yongbok, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin, Yang Jeongin and Lee Minho. Stray kids, they called themselves. Basically abandoned by their workaholic parents and brought up by relatives. "Hyung she'll be fine don't worry. Seungmin's aunt is the best surgeon in the country. She stitched Y/N up all fine." Changbin put an arm on Minho's shivering shoulder. Chan and Jisung were also there in the room, trying to comfort Minho and convince him that you would be fine. "What if she's not ok hyung? What do I tell her when she wakes up? Ho-how do I explain to her how I knew that her parents' bodies would be lying in her floor before she even got home? How do I fucking explain that?" Minho looked up at Chan with teary eyes. Chan was worried. Minho hadn't eaten or drunk water for the whole day, ever since you came out of that four hour long surgery. Never before had he seen Minho's cold face so filled with emotion. "Minho listen to me. You can explain everything to her once she wakes up. I called her sister and she'll be coming over in three days from Busan. Now please. You've got to eat something or drink water atleast. I promise you, Y/N will understand if you speak to her properly. Now come on, let's get some breakfast. It's 8 am in the morning. The boys would have woken up by now." Minho listened silently to Chan's words and simply nodded. Words weren't coming out anymore as he slowly got up from his chair and let go of your hand. Taking one last look at you, the boys left the room, all the while commanding two bodyguards to stand outside the door, making sure no one else can even come near you.

"Y/Nnie! Look what I can do!" "That wasn't a proper cartwheel Doowon, it doesn't count!" "Atleast I can do a cartwheel." "Yah don't stick your tongue out at me! Jinhee unnie! Doowon's making fun of me!"

'Do you remember? Twenty first night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders.' "Happy birthday Doowon! I got a CD of your favourite song!" "Thanks Y/Nnie. Let's listen to this song on my birthday every year!"

Purple sheets? This was not your bed. Your bed had dinosaur sheets and made a rickety noise every time you moved. You noticed the white tape wrapped carefully around your waist and dared not touch it. You tried to remember what day it was and where you were as you slowly moved and leaned comfortably against the bed frame, groaning slightly as your stomach was hurting. Gosh what day was it? Was it still September? Or did October come to take you away again?

Lost in your thoughts, you looked around the room, trying to figure out whether you were still in Jeju Island or not. You noticed a drawer close to the bed. Curious, you opened the drawer, to find your phone, a bracelet and a picture of a you and Minho in your jerseys. That bracelet. It was the one which your brother had made for you. Which you hadn't seen ever since that day. And the picture was the one which was taken when you and Minho were elected captains of your basketball teams. You grabbed your phone hurriedly as you realised that this had to be Minho's house. You had to get out. Now. Your memory was coming back to you and you remembered the events that had unfolded the night before. Blood. The smell of iron. The blade of a knife. The tears of a plum brown haired boy.

You threw the sheets off of yourself and made to get up. Stupid decision, you told yourself as the moment your feet hit the floor, you fell down witha loud thud. "OUCH!" you cried out loudly, hoping that this was a soundproof house. Probably not, because five seconds later, you heard footsteps coming down to your door. The oak door swung open with a loud crash to reveal a panic stricken Minho, who had dark circles under his eyes, a worried looking Chan, who was clutching a half finished piece of toast and a very confused Seungmin, who was holding a cup of coffee in his hand. "I knew I shouldn't have left your clumsy ass alone." Minho grumbled as he made his way to you and gently lifted you up, taking care not to touch your injury. You should have probably thrashed around, but for the sake of not accidentally injuring yourself even more, you resisted, as Minho put you back on the head and flicked your forehead painfully. "Yah!" You exclaimed rubbing your forehead. "Ok first of all, where the fuck am I? Second of all, what the fuck am I doing here? Third of all, I know my parents are dead now, so what I am going to do?" You directed the last question at Chan, who scratched his hair and glanced at Seungmin, who was looking at you as if you were his hero. "You know noona, you can come stay with me if you don't wanna stay in Minho's hyung's house." Minho glared at Seungmin as Chan took him by the arm and forced him out of the room, before saying "Minho explain everything. And no I will not help you stop pouting." He slammed the door, leaving Minho and you all alone. All alone in this wood carved room. All alone to face September together. "Alright" Minho took in a deep breath. "Im going to explain everything to you princess. But you will not fucking interrupt me, got it?" You opened your mouth to fire something back at him, but you decided against it in the last moment and quietly nodded. "Alright here goes. First of all I am really sorry for bringing up your brother. I know it was an asshole move and I thought you'd have forgotten about it. Clearly you didn't so I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Second of all, yes your parents are dead. Im sorry Y/N but they are. We informed your sister, she'll come in a few days from Busan. And the reason I knew that your parents were dead and tried to stop you was because my cousin killed your parents." Pause button. Wait what?

"Minho what are you talking about? If this is some kind of joke I will seriously kill myself right here and right now." Minho looked at you with an expression of pure sympathy. "It's not a joke Y/N. You know your mom is the head of the Jeju Island branch of Chan's parents' buisness right? Well all our businesses are connected. And one day when you were a child, your mother had found some papers which proved that my family was in illegal work. My family was ready to forgive her but my cousin, Jackson, wasn't. All those papers were related to his dealings and he wasn't happy that a mere woman had found out about it. So one day, without my parent's knowledge, he found out about your family and well. I think you know the rest don't you?" Too many things. Too many things for your brain to process as it went back to that night. Mr Wang. Jackson Wang. Pretty name, you thought, as you tried to bring his face back to your memory. Scarred. That's all you remembered. Scarred face, scarred mouth, scarred hands grabbing your brother by the cuffs on his shirt. "Chan had found out first. You know him having contacts and all. And when he told me about it, there was this thing inside of me that told me that your parents were probably already dead. I know my cousin pretty well. And he isn't one for patience." "But what did my mom do now?" Minho sighed at your question. "She, she found out some more information about Jackson and she decided to step up. But we all know what happens to heroes don't we?" Your breathing had gotten more steady now and your hands had stopped shaking. Sadness wasn't arriving for you. Not yet. Was it September? Or was it because you never actually knew your mother and father? Because thinking about it, you actually never did.

"Y/N I think it's time to tell you what my parents actually do. What all the boy's parents actually do. We run an underground syndicate over the whole of South Korea. We own every piece of land in Korea. We have information about every person existing in this country. And I want to tell you that your mom was actually one of the most important people for our 'buisness'. She wasn't just some head of the Jeju Island branch. She was a personal spy for my father and mother, put here along with your dad, to spy against, uh, some people." Your head hurt even more with all the information that Minho was unloading on you. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples gently. Minho looked slightly worried at this and nervously asked, "You ok princess? Want some breakfast?" Oh gosh his lips. "Or a doctor? You know what I'll get a doctor. Chan hyung will say no-" Those lips looked so kissable" "- but what if you don't feel well later on a faint and then you become even more sick-" Don't kiss him Y/N don't you dare. "-and then I'll have to marry you and take care of you foreve-"

Yep you couldn't keep it to yourself anymore. "I wanna kiss you." You blurted out, instantly cringing and regretting your words and Minho turned his head towards you, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in surprise. "This is adream right? Oh shit I had too much coffee." You were surprised at his words. Wait did he dream of this in a regular basis or what? Or were in you in a coma and this was all in your head? You slightly moved in the bed and as your stomach slightly hurt, you thought, yes definetly not a coma. "Or you could just get me some breakfast? Im hungry and in pain right now." "O-oh yeah I'll just tell t-the guys to get you some. K cool bye Y/N! See you later definetly don't wanna kiss you haha bye!" You were in a state of euphoria as Minho left the room, a blushing mess. Did you just make the Lee Minho blush and stutter? Oh you could jump in joy right now. Well if you could jump. Was this wrong, you thought. Not feeling sad even though your parents had just died? Or were you too familiar with sadness, that meeting her wasn't a big deal anymore?

The door opened again after fifteen minutes to reveal a blonde- haired boy with the most prettiest eyes you've ever seen, carrying a breakfast tray, followed by a taller long haired boy, who looked like he came straight out of those anime comics you read. "Hey noona! Here's some breakfast! Are you feeling better now?" The blonde haired boy, who had a very deep voice, said in a cheery tone. You considered asking him if he was a pixie or an angel because God did he emit that vibe. That positive vibe that just made you wanna pick some flowers and braid them in someone's hair. "Oh hello there. Um thank you for the food. Im sorry if it was of any inconvenience to you." This time, the long haired boy responded instead, saying "Oh no Noona it's fine. Minho hyung would kill us, well specifically me, if, according to his words 'you felt any discomfort', so please eat up. Im Hyunjin by the way and this is Felix." "Im Y/N. Yoon Y/N. But I'm guessing you already knew that?"

"Well of course we know about you. Minho hyung doesn't stop talking to me about you." Jisung had just appeared at the door, dressed in a leather jacket with leather pants, making him look like a biker. "He literally talked to me about your favourite ice cream flavour for five house noona I'm not joking. So please would you tell him you like or something so that I can get out of this hellhole of listening to him?" You were slightly taken aback by Jisung's words and as he plopped and deflated onto the purple couch, you looked at him with a curious expression, "Oh I'm Jisung by the way. Minho's amazingly talented best friend." You heard Hyunjin mutter something along the lines of 'he forgot to add annoying'. "Um I have a lot questions that Minho didn't properly answer. May I ask them,if you don't mind?" You directed this question at Felix, who looked ecstatic at the thought of answering questions, as Hyunjin pulled up two chairs. "Yeah of course Noona! My brother is really vague so please forgive him for that." You smiled at Felix's words about Minho. "Ok first of all where are we right now?" "We're in the outskirts of Jeju Island. This is Minho's hyung's mansion. Well technically our mansion, but my parents are the ones who own it. It's really old and no one cares about it. So we carry out our, er, operations here." Seeing Felix say all that was like seeing a chick with a knife. "So do all of you have like different jobs here? Like in the books and movies?" Hyunjin chuckled at that. "Minho hyung told us you liked suspense literature. Well to answer your question, yes we do have different jobs here. Chan hyung is kind of like our leader. He basically gives all the contacts and manages our profile and connections. You know all the administration shit. Changbin hyung and this idiot over here-" He gestured towards Jisung who gasped dramatically, "-they are our muscle and also so the money work. Lix over here does all the hacking work since his parents trained him and also since he's obsessed with gaming." Felix turned red at that, "Seungmin and Jeongin are our snipers. They are really young but I mean none of us really had an actual childhood. I run the interrogation work. And Minho hyung basically does everything. He doesn't really have a designated position." The way Hyunjin said all of that in the most casual tone weirded you out. He talked as if he was talking about morning coffee, as if it completely normal and nothing suspicious. You smiled awkwardly at Hyunjin who simply stared out the window at the sunlight. "Are all of you so gorgeous over here?" You blurted out, to which Jisung choked on his own saliva, Felix blushed pink and Hyunjin blinked multiple times. "I mean unless you count Jisung out, then yeah all of us are really pretty." You laughed at Hyunjin's statement to which Jisung looked like a furious squirrel.

"Yah Yongbok, Hyunjin are you coming down?" You heard Minho shout from below. "Oh gotta go. Anyways it was nice talking to you noona! I think Minho hyung called the doctor to come in the evening, so you should probably rest up until then. Oh and-" Felix paused for a moment and pulled out a sketchpad from nowhere. "Don't tell Minho I have you this. He told me you like to draw so I sneaked this in here." With that, all of them left you in the room, with a sketchpad, your phone and September's tunes.

You wiled away the hours by drawing the room around you. You tried to draw Hyunjin, Felix, Jisung and Chan too. The house was quiet apart from the voices of whom you assumed was Jeongin and Seungmin talking very loudly. But something was distracting you. That bracelet. The bracelet lying on the bedside drawer. You knew that bracelet very well. It was the bracelet which Doowon had made for you when you were eight or so. And you hadn't ever seen it ever since that night. So what was it doing here? Minho had told you that his cousin and his family don't talk at all, so how was this bracelet here? Was Minho lying? No he wouldn't do that. Yes mortal enemy things but you didn't think this man would be crazy enough to kill. You picked up the bracelet and twirled it in your hands. It was pretty, with gold lining the thing.

You noticed something on one of the biggest pink beads of the bracelet. The bead was... Open? It had a line tracing it as if it was a Pokemon ball, ready to split at any moment to reveal your Pokemon. Curious, you dig your nails into it to open it up. After a few minutes of difficulty (and you almost giving up), you managed to open the ball up. Inside was a tiny piece of folded paper. It was so tiny indeed, that you wondered how someone had managed to fold it. You dug the paper out and unfolded its many layers of folds. This definetly wasn't there when your brother had so lovingly made it for you. The paper was faded, but still looked relatively new. There were some words on it typed out in red, black and blue. The words:.

Yoon Doowon

Birth: September 21, 2005 (Age: Unknown)

Job: Hitman, Ally, Possible heir

Status: Alive

3: Take the weight off his shoulders

'Do you remember 22st night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders all while dancing the night away."

"God boss can you turn that off? It's been playing for an hour now." A stout man, dressed in tight black clothes, which fitted his muscles was sitting spread eagle on a nice blue cushion chair. Sitting in front of him on a much more bigger chair, was a man dressed elaborately in a white mink stole, a pristine white suit, with rings of all colours adorning his fingers, and a big black brooch on a golden chain stuck to his suit. "I won't turn it off until the chorus Brian. You know I love this song don't you? And you shall listen to it until your ears bleed out." Brian groaned and leaned back in his chair. "When is Mr Wang coming?" The man asked Brian. "It's possible he'll be arriving in a few minutes sir. But don't worry. I have intel that he got the job done well and good." "And the little rat? What about her?" Brian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well she might have gotten away. Lee's gang was there." The man threw his long hair back and threw off the stole, a frown and a red scar decorating his handsome face.

They were in a large room, an office, but it looked more like a King's throne room, where there were chairs for the ministers and wine glasses all decked with pink fluid. There was no door, but a few handing blue beads, which tinkled every now and then. "How could she have gotten away? Who did you send to kill them?" "I sent our best assassin sir." The man scoffed. "Well, clearly he wasn't the best. Does he have family?" Brian nodded in response to the question. "Good. Kill them." "Of course sir."

The blue beads tinkled as a heavily scarred man came into the room along with two bodyguards. "Mr Wang." The white draped man bowed deeply to Jackson who bowed back, only a bit. "Well well well Doowon. You did good. Your parents are dead. This deserves a toast. Shall we?" Doowon smirked at the man and got a green bottle from underneath the table. "Only the finest whiskey for you Mr Wang." Jackson chuckled coldly, taking a glass from the table and extending it forward to Doowon. "But-" Doowon said as he slowly uncorked the bottle. "I do not wish for your bodyguards to be here. You know how the Lee Family works? Even the most trusted allies can turn into back stabbers when their money is involved. " If Jackson Wang was startled, he didn't show it on his face. Instead he motioned for his guards to leave the room, who followed suit, although with a little uncertainty. Brian also left the room, leaving the two scarred men alone.

"Well then a toast. To me and you. Buisness partners." Doowon raised his glass in unison with Jackson, who drank up the whiskey quickly. "Mr Wang I have something to tell you." Jackson looked up at the younger man and waved his hand as if to say 'go on'. "First of all I just want to thank you for taking me in that night, when everyone thought I was dead. You were so ever so good with your observations to notice that I was only playing dead. And then you trained me and everything so thank you for that. And for telling me the truth about everything." Jackson simply nodded. He felt a sharp jab in his stomach and his head started to stir. Doowon was going out of focus now and in what seemed like a split second, Jackson Wang rolled off of the chair, onto the floor. Dead. "But I wanted to tell you sir." Doowon spoke to the limp body on the floor. "That I would like to take over by myself now. You're getting too old and I don't want you to interfere in my personal matters."

"How do you feel now Y/N? Better?" A pretty older woman was checking up on you. She wore a doctor's coat with the nametag 'Dr Kim' on it. She was Seungmin's aunt, the surgeon who had saved your life. "Well the pain has subsided a bit Dr.Kim. I still feel a bit dizzy every time I move, but I think I'm good now." Dr Kim warmly smiled at you as she checked your heartbeat. "Well in any case, I think you'll be fine by tomorrow. You can even walk around tomorrow if you like. But for now, just get some more sleep. I'll tell Minho and the boys not to disturb you alright?" Dr Kim gently squeezed your hand and packed up her equipment. She spoke to you as if you were her own child, with such delicate words and a comforting voice, something that your mother never gave you. "Um Dr Kim? Could you ask Minho to come up here please? If you don't mind?" "Of course honey! I'll ask him. Take care now." She gently kissed your forehead and went out the door.

"You wanted to see me?" Minho was dressed in a blue shirt, slightly open at the top and white pants. He looked so.... refined. And hot, exactly like a K drama CEO. God damn he looked delicious. Don't lick your lips. Do not lick your fucking lips Y/N. "Yeah I have some questions." Minho groaned as he shut the door and came forward to sit on the bed. "What now?" "Where did you get this bracelet?" You held up the bracelet to Minho, who looked at you, perplexed. "That's my bracelet, for your information. My mother gifted it to me. It's been in my family for centuries." Wait what now? "Minho stop fucking lying would you? My brother gave me this as a surprise gift when I was ten. And it went missing ever since the day he fucking died! So could you please tell me where the fuck you got this? Or I'm getting out of this bed and asking Chan." "Woah there princess." Minho looked at you, worried at your outburst. "Alright don't get out of bed please. I don't want you bleeding out and dying. But I'm telling the truth. This is the bracelet my mother gave me when I was twelve. It's been passed on from generation to generation in the Lee Family. It's a special bracelet, because it has these tiny chits inside the beads, telling the person who opens it who the next leader of, well, underground South Korea is going to be."

Too much information again. Number one, you could not stop staring at Minho's pretty pink lips. Number two, why did the chit inside the bead have your brother's name? And why did it say that he was alive?" "Wh-who puts the chits inside of this?" You asked Minho, carefully hiding the chit inside of your hand. "Well my uncle Wang dies. Jackson's dad. His great great great grandpa was the one who made this bracelet. So he has the right to choose the heir." "Minho I think you need to see this." You handed Minho the faded chit. He looked at it for a solid fifteen seconds before looking at you, blinking rapidly, just like how he does whenever someone surprises him. "Y/N oh fuck. Shit come on get up. Quick. I'll help you." "Wait Minho what? What happened?" You asked Minho as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, supporting you as you slowly got out the bed, and onto your legs. "Y/N we need to get to a safer place. If- if what this chit says is true, you're in more danger than I thought." "Wait Minho stop. Would you stop for a moment? Minho- Lee Minho!" You shouted his name, which made him stop in his tracks, arms still supporting your waist, even though you could still walk fine. "Would you please explain to me what's going on?" "Come down to the hall." Minho sighed and told you. "The boys, except Chan hyung, don't know either. So I can tell them and you at the same time. It'll be easier won't it?"

You nodded, not saying anything. Your mouth was dry and words were not escaping it. Gosh September was meant to be good. Why was it so full of surprises?

"Yah Minho Hyung! Auntie told noona can't get up until tomorrow." Seungmin said to Minho as both of you cam doen the stairs. All of the boys were pin the living room, immersed in their own work. Seungmin and Jeongin were playing chess and Chan was on his laptop as usual. "Chan hyung. I think I've figured out who the Mink Thief is." Chan's head snapped from his laptop to Minho so fast, that you swore you heard a cracking sound. The other boys' attention was also now on Minho. "Are you joking or are you actually telling the truth right now?" Minho smiled at Chan's words and set you down on the couch next to Changbin gently. "No I am not joking. Look at this." He handed Chan the bracelet and the chit, which Chan twirled in his gorgeous fingers, all the while looking at it as if it was some alien substance. "Oh fucking hell. Not him?" Minho nodded at Chan's exasperated words as Chan slumped in his chair, setting his laptop down on the table. "Can anyone explain what's going on please? Minho hyung?" Felix asked. "Alright bitches-" "language Minho" "Hyung stop being so old. Alright bitches listen up. So first of all let me introduce you to a man named Yoon Doowon, also known to us as The Mink Thief, who has been sending our families threats for a long time, also know to Y/N as her dead brother." "Yah! Rude!" "Anyways, one thing that Chan hyung found out a few days ago is that The Mink Thief has been in contact with my cousin, Jackson, ever since the day of Y/N's brother's murder. Also Y/N," he paused at looked into your eyes. "Whatever I'm about to say next will probably shock you so please don't faint out of surprise." You looked at Minho with the best offended eyes you could.

Minho then continued in a much more serious voice, "Yoon Danbi, Y/N's mom has been a spy for my family ever since I was born. Her and her husband had been placed here in Jeju Island along with their only daughter Yoon Jinhee, for an important mission. But soon, people grew suspicious of how both of them would act all the time, leaving their daughter alone for such long periods of time, coming home late at deadly hours and blah blah blah. So, in order to make their family seem much more 'normal', they took in two children. Choi Doowon and Jeon Y/N." "Minho what the fuck are you saying right now." Why were there so many surprises? Was your entire life a lie? Were you adopted for some stupid mission or something? What kind of Marvel shit was this? "Yeah this is why I said, don't faint out of shock." Minho slightly chuckled as Chan looked at repramandingly. "Look yes it's true your parents aren't your real parents. But the thing is your didn't even have parents. You came straight from the orphanage. So when my family took one look at you, someone with no background information which can be traced, they thought you were perfect for this mission. I mean, think of it Y/N, haven't you ever saw your parents hiding any documents from you or getting afraid when you asked for your birth certificate whenever you needed to register for your basketball games?" Yes, when you thought about it, they did do that.

"Hyung don't you think you should have had this conversation somewhere more private?" Felix looked from your distraught face to Minho's. "We probably should have but I have shit to tell all of you too." Minho said to his younger brother. "When Doowon supposedly died that night, Jackson Wang got a new partner in crime. Doowon was probably still alive. I know that no one can survive a fall like that, but I seriously don't know how he survived. So what I'm assuming from this tiny chit here, is that Jackson probably told Doowon the truth about his true parentage and all, and then like a basic villain, Doowon wanted revenge and now Y/N's life is basically a fantasy novel." "Ain't that right?" You scoffed. "My entire fucking life is a lie. I mean is my name even Y/N? Are we just living in a hallucination? What if all humanity is meant to do is just live our boring lives until a giant space turtle comes along and kills us all?" "That would be a cool way to die." Jisung said, not even a bit surprised by your rambling. "Jisung." Chan looked at Jisung with a glare. "Alright listen up everybody. Now that the sad backstory is out the way, we need to get down to buisness. First of all we need to get Y/N somewhere safe. Well safer. So Y/N, would you be willing to go along with Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin?" You nodded at Chan, who looked very relieved. "Great. Felix, Hyunjin, would both of you search out if Vernon's mansion is still protected and everything? " Felix and Hyunjin replied 'yes' to Chan and quickly went out the room. "Um noona we should get going. Can you walk by yourself?" Seungmin stood up and extended a hand to you, which you gratefully took and got up. "Yeah I can walk don't worry. Um where are we going?" Seungmin smiled at you, revealing his braces. "Don't worry about that. Just follow me to the car."

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting in the back of a Bentley with Jisung, with Seungmin driving and Jeongin stared out the window, sitting quietly in the passenger seat. "You're lucky Minho hyung gave us his car noona." Jisung commented. "He never even lets us touch it. But then again, we're with you, so I guess that makes up for it." You looked at Jisung's wavy hair and thought to yourself that how can a sweet boy like him, be Minho's best friend. "Jisung, when you said Minho doesn't stop talking about me to you guys, what exactly does he talk about?" "Oh noona I could write an entire seven book Series about that " Seungmin responded instead of Jisung. "He doesn't ever stop talking about what your favourite song is, or what you wore today or how your hair falls in such a perfect way. And when we tell him to just tell you that he is pathetically in love with you, he sulks and says that he would rather kill himself." Well that was certainly surprising. "Oh we're here." Jeongin said, as the car pulled up to a massive iron gate, which had the letters C, H and V on it. What it was guarding was a massive black mansion, which looked very much like a vampire's lair, covered in vines of ivy with a statue of bat hanging out in the big yard. "Chwe Hansol. Also known as Vernon. This is his mansion. He's a good friend of Chan Hyung's and he lets us use the mansion whenever we want. It's the safest place in Jeju Island so we'll be good here noona." Jisung told you, as you stepped out of the car. The mansion looked so ethereal and as you walked into the yard through the gate, you wondered if this was the mansion which was described in the story of the vampire Carmilla. You lived and breathed for that story and you were excited at the thought of hiding in a place which looked exactly like Carmilla's mansion, where she took the blood of her lover, weeping over her body, and complaining about her death.

The boys pushed open the big dual doors of the mansion with difficulty, but not before Jisung had entered a pass code on the tiny keyboard thing which was on the right side of the door. This was indeed Carmilla's mansion, you thought as you entered the big living room, which was decked from head to toe in gold and silver. There was a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling, along with busts of some vague looking people.

"Gosh this is so pretty." You said to Seungmin, who smiled and said "Wait till you see the ball room." You were about say 'theres a ball room here?' when suddenly the lights went out. "Ah fucking hell. Guys stay here with noona. I'll go and see what's wrong." You heard Jisung's voice. "I don't think you need to do that, my dear Mr.Han." you heard a cold voice, which didn't belong to any of the boys. "Who's ther-" Before Seungmin could finish his sentence, you felt a hit to your head, and you blacked out, before hearing Jisung shout, "Noona!"

"Y/Nnie. Wake up." Doowon said in a sing song voice. The boys were tightly tied up to the chairs, with cello tape around their mouths. You were also tied up to the big blue cushion chair, with Doowon, standing in front of you, wearing a red coat and that mink fur stole. He had three bodyguards with him, all buffer than Changbin, all carrying guns and all looking scary as fuck. "Y/N wake up you stupid bitch." Doowon slapped your face painfully, which made you slightly stir. "Hey don't do that she's injured!" Jisung shouted out, having managed to chew through his cello tape. Doowon looked at Jisung with a sarcastic smile and said nothing, while one of the bodyguards punched Jisung. "Doowon?" You had woken up and the surroundings were appearing more clearly now. Your stomach hurt so much and your brain was still fuzzy, except for your dead brother standing in front of you, smirking. "Oh hey Y/Nnie. You miss me?" He asked you in a cold voice you didn't recognise. Never September. This was not September's child standing in front of you. This wasn't September's child, who used to chase butterflies and gift you cute little stones, standing in front of you. "Doowon you're alive." You managed to cough out some words, along with a bit of blood. "Ahh yes I am. I assume your stupid boyfriend already told you what happened to me. So I'm going to skip over the part where I explain shit to you." He let out a cold laugh which made you flinch. "Doowon this isn't you. What are you doing?" You asked him, tears welling up in your eyes. "This isn't me? No Y/N this is me. I've been lied to my entire life and Jackson Wang told me the truth. He taught me the way to survive in our world. He's dead now by the way. Just like our 'parents'." "Doowon please. Stop this lunacy! Atleast let the boys go they haven't done anything wrong!" Doowon leaned down to your level and lifted your chin with his finger. You shivered at his cold touch. "Aww Y/N. Always so fucking innocent. Baby the boys are leverage. Soon the rest of the boys will be here and then after some introductions, I can finally rule all of South Korea." Your tears had escaped now as you looked over at the boys, who were knocked unconscious by the bodyguards. You felt like the most lowest human being on earth, when you looked at Jeongin's bleeding lip, wondering what Chan's reaction would be when he arrived here. "Brian! Go check if the doors are open please. I want them all to waltz in here and call for these pathetic boys. And then we'll hit them where they don't even know it hurts. Maybe we'll start with this one." He moved over to Jeongin. The man named Brian laughed and winked at Doowon. "I'll get the door sir." He moved out the room swiftly.

Fifteen minutes had passed. Fifteen silent minutes. This was silence which you did not enjoy. Silence was sweet in September, when only the Magpies chirped. But now, as you watched Jeongin and Seungmin slightly stir, silence became bitter. "Is Brian not coming? You!" Doowon shouted at one of the guards. "Go out and see where he is! Does it take this much time for the rascal to come back?" The guard obeyed and made to get up from his seat on a rickety wooden chair. BANG! A bullet shot went through the guards head, and as he slumped to the ground, with a pool of blood around his head, Doowon screamed and grabbed Jisung by his chin. "You! What have you done!" Jisung merely smirked at him as Doowon lay frozen there, staring at the body. "Oh for fucks sake what are both of you doing?" Doowon spat at the two remaining guards. "Go upstairs and check if the rats have entered the house already!" The guards nodded their heads fervently and went off in opposite directions, only to be met with two gunshots. The door burst open, as Minho and the remaining boys barged in.

"Doowon." Minho said coldly to Doowon, who merely smirked, trying to hide the fact that he had peed his pants a bit. "Well you found me didn't you? Good job Minho. You know Mr Wang told me how your family works. So I'm honoured that I'm actually getting to experience a member of the great Lee family trying to kill me." You were disgusted by his words. Where did your sweet Doowon go? Where did the boy whom you had cried for day and night go? "Let the boys and Y/N go. Now Doowon. And we won't have any consequences." Chan said to Doowon. He looked furious. You hadn't ever seen Chan like this. "Oh you can take the boys first and then I'll give you Y/N." Hearing that, Changbin and Hyunjin hurried forward, untied the boys, who were concious by now and supported them on their arms, as they carried them back to safety.

"Now Y/N's turn. Give her back to me Doowon and maybe you won't end up choking on your own blood tonight." Minho's voice made your heart go warm. He had nothing but cold fury in his voice. If you thought you had seen his anger on that one particular basketball match in Busan, you were mistaken.

"Now why would I do that? Sweet little Y/N is all ok tied up to his chair aren't you Y/Nnie?" He pulled your hair and kicked you hard in your stomach, which made you cough out blood. Yep, the stitches in your stomach had probably opened up. Fuck no, not now. Don't die in September. Let me wait for October. October seemed more comforting now. The Magpies had their babies in October. Im October, you could get boba on discount. In October, you could hand out with your friends whenever you want. In October, Minho would turn a year older. Wait how did you know that? Why was this room so fuzzy? Hey Minho's face. His beautiful face. It was going out of focus now. Good way to die isn't it. You hoped death came to you, wrapped in white silk and picked you up in her arms like a baby and put you in a cradle. A cradle painted orange and yellow. A cradle with Magpies on it. A cradle which loved all the months equally. But especially October. Especially October.

"Doowon, stop that! Stop fucking hurting her!" Minho screamed at Doowon. You were blacked out now and as Minho looked at your gently sleeping figure, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. "And what if I don't? What will you do oh great Lee Minho? I have her in my arms and I can do anything I wa-" That was the last thing Minho heard before all he saw was Doowon's dumb face, struck with shock, bullet hole in his big head, blood staining his already red suit and his stupid mentality finally gone from this world. "Good job Minho. Now come on let's get Y/N. Guys get Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin to the car. We'll get Y/N." Chan told the others, while Minho had already strode over to you. He hurriedly untied the ropes around your arms and legs and got you to his arms, fingers looking for your wrists, to check your pulse. Tears were coming out now. Tears he never knew would come for you. He loved you. So much. So much it was honestly pathetic. The way you scowled everytime you saw him, the way your eyes lit up whenever you got a high test score, the way you cherished December for your birthday, the way you existed. He loved everything about you. And he can't lose you. Not now. Not ever.

"Feeling good kitten?" You had woken up in Minho's house again, with Dr Kim checking your heartbeat and adjusting your blood pump. "Minho." You managed to breath out weakly, making Minho's heart drop again. He was quick to stand up and cup your face in his arms gently as tears poured out of your eyes. "Hey hey hey don't cry." He said so gently, in a tone which he never used with you. "No Y/N. Shh. I've got you. You're safe. You're safe." He hugged you gently, supporting your head with his hands as you silently sobbed into his shirt. Once you pulled away, you noticed that his shirt was wet from all the crying and that his eye bags were more prominent. "Im sorry. I'm so sorry Minho. I-I really didn't know about..... about him and I caused you all this trouble. I am so sorry." "Hey hey princess. Y/N listen to me." You looked into his eyes, which were twinkling into yours. "None of it is your fault. You hear me? None of it. If anything, I should have told you all that I know earlier but I couldn't. Because- because I- I love you Y/N." That was it. That's all it took. That's all it took, for your eyes to widen, your hands to reach up to his jaw and for your lips to meet his, in a slow dance accompanied by the melodies of the Magpies outside, celebrating that you two had finally realised your love for each other. You pulled away after what felt like a very short time, but you were running out of breath. Minho and you stared at each other for a while and then burst into giggles. "That felt nice princess. You sure you haven't kissed anyone before?" You slapped his chest playfully as you said "Yah! Don't make me think back about being your girlfriend Lee Minho." Minho's eyes lit up and he stuttered out "Girlfriend? Yep I'm in a dream someone pinch me." You rolled your eyes as you pinched him and he let out a tiny scream. "Oh stop so dramatic. How long was I out by the way? And are the boys alright?" "You were out for two days now kitten. And the boys are good. Jisung is saying he finally got his 'Wattpad best friend gets kidnapped moment' and I think Chan told Dr Kim to double his dosage of sleeping pills so now he's crashed out. And snoring loudly."

"Noona you're awake!" Felix had come into the room, well more like bounced into the room along with the rest of the boys, Seungmin sporting a cast, and Jeongin having a pink band-aid on his lip. Felix hugged you tightly while Chan hugged Minho. "Lix let her go. She needs to breath." Chan said to Felix, who had been hugging you for a long time now. "Seungmin, Jeongin are you guys ok now? I am literally so sorry." Jeongin smiled at you sweetly, his fox like eyes forming crescents and said, "We're good noona. Technically we should be asking you that question. And it's fine please don't apologise." He bowed a bit to you and as you tried to bow back, whilst sitting, Hyunjin said, to Minho "So hyung. Have you finally got your ass together and asked noona out?" Minho glared at Hyunjin as everyone else in the room laughed. "You will be getting your mouth stuffed tonight Hyunjin. And yes I have asked her out. And now she's my girlfriend." "Yah who said I was your girlfriend?" You jokingly said. "Ok I'm gonna ask Jisung out then." Minho said standing up.

Four years later

You had been living with Minho for four years now, as his live-in Girlfriend. He had introduced you to his parents, who had been nothing less that kind to you. They had first apologized profusely for the whole Doowon incident, to which you told them that you really didn't care. You had Minho with you and all of your past had slowly faded away.

And every year as October and September came, you learnt to cherish ,not the month, but the memories you made every day. You learnt to forever keep memories of you, your boyfriend, your friends and everyone around you. You learnt how to let go of grief easily.

And when Minho proposed to you, on the twenty first night of December, you learnt, you just needed someone a bit older, and a bit colder, to teach you what it meant to love a person like you'd love a month.

174 notes · View notes

randomationality · 5 days

Text

FINALLY someone asked about my OCs (it was my good amazing bro @tacticianpigeon with her reblog on another post with these two) so heres a FULL ON LORE ABOUT THEM

meet Cole and Nicole!

These two Vosians were forged after the Autobots and Decepticons arrived on Earth, so they were the last Cybertronians ever created before Cybertron became a dead planet. Another bot that still resided there found the two sparklings while scavenging. The twins were youthful, curious and afraid. That bot, who is now pretty much their sire, did their best to raise them in a world of ruins. So the twins have never seen a peaceful, thriving environment with civilization.

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

Cole is the eldest by a minute, but acts like the youngest. He's an open book, very energetic and confident young mech. His sister describes him as the annoying kind of loud, which he can be at some times.

He really likes music, his favourite Earth artist is Cosmo Pyke and favourite song is A Piper For Janet also by Cosmo. He found a somehow working communications centre where it picked up radio signals from Earth, that's how they had access to music. Cole does own a makeshift ukelele (well, a Cybertronian one like there's obviously gotta be a different name for it) he made of scraps around his war-torn city, and self-taught himself how to play.

Despite growing up in a disastrous time where anyone could kill anyone and WILL kill anyone, Cole just is chill with anyone he sees. Well, if he DOES see anyone. And that is actually such a dangerous thing and he doesn't even know it. He's still young and naive, you know? They're only around 14 anyways.

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

Nicole has the same amount of energy as her brother, but she's more collected. She is hella good at roasting people - 'people' as in brother - and winning arguments, but she's also really kind and understanding.

She has an interest in architecture. She likes to go out and take a look at all of Cybertron's buildings - the ones still intact and NOT broken down - and imagine how this planet was in simpler times, with designs of the city's structures being beautiful and creative as ever.

She's more cautious and aware than her brother. Since he's the one getting into more trouble, she's mostly the one scolding him. Nicole is the exact opposite of her brother when it comes to trust, she doesn't trust ANYONE. The only way you can actually be the slightest bit of friends with her is if you like Liana Flores.

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

Even though they annoy each other a lot, they still care for each other the same amount. If one gets hurt, the other would do anything to save them. They only have each other anyways, and their 'sire'.

They both don't have an alt mode, so they can't travel very far. Their 'sire' doesn't allow them to explore further, anyway.

Sometimes, they think of what life would be like if they left.

#transformers #maccadams #tfp #transformers prime #transformers oc #tf oc #transformers seekers #tfp seekers #seeker oc #Cole and Nicole #my goofy lil ocs #randojj

39 notes · View notes

sleepy-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #15

(#) = Notes at the end of post

✦

A Lonely Star Shines in the Night

The Guys in White have gone too far. So far that the Danny's universe as they know it is collapsing into itself as a result of the agent's foolish attempt to rid the land of the dead, undying, and neverborn. They tried nuking the Infinite Realms and all it got them was their dimension erased with the Infinite Realms only suffering minor damage.

Either way, Danny's home is gone.

In the struggle to gather his family and spirit them away into the Ghost Zone, he was separated from them when the GIW blew the portal to smithereens with him on the other side and his family still in the living realm. Overtaken by grief, his core cracking from his failure to protect those precious to him, he scoured the Realms for a natural portal back, to no avail.

In his search, he is nearly driven mad by his desperation. Unable to see their King in such pain and slowly unraveling into a second coming of Pariah Dark, Clockwork, Frostbite, and Pandora gather their strength and force him into an entirely different universe to grieve and heal. A universe full of heroes. He won't know this for a while, however, because where he ended up was the old Gotham observatory.

With his obsession of protecting--his friends, his family, his town, his entire world--torn to shreds, his damaged core magnified his secondary obsession: the very cosmos itself. His core latched onto the remaining obsession and inadvertently temporarily tied Danny to the very foundation of the old observatory. That is where he lingers for years, unable to leave and unable to stop crying for his lost family and friends, repeating their names over and over in a neverending mantra.

It isn't until much later that people start to notice his presence, due to the observatory having been unused for decades. What use was an observatory if you couldn't even see the stars in the perpetual smog that blanketed the city? At some point, however, a couple of daring teenagers snuck into the observatory one night and had a first hand encounter with a strange being. Needless to say, they didn't stick around for much longer. The reports they made to the police and what they posted on social media the next day were nonetheless wildly interesting.

Each of them described relatively the same thing. Of first seeing a bright, sliver star shining in the dark(1) of the empty building but then quickly noticing it was set in the center of the chest of a being that might as well have been made from the black void of the night sky itself. They described a being with hair that faded into white, glowing mist that was circled by a crown of ice crystals and star dust. Most notable of all to them, however, were the low humming whispers coupled with the mercury tears leaking from aurora green eyes in a neverending stream that dripped and echoed hauntingly across the marble floors below.

Of course, no one really believed their wild tales at first. Then it became a game among high schoolers and college students to wander the old observatory just to see if they would catch sight of this mysterious being. If not, no harm done. That is until one student accidentally injured themselves trying to find this ghost they've been hearing rumors about. (2)

Regardless of whether or not the being inhabiting the observatory directly caused this student's injury, he's gained the Batclan's attention.

✦

Notes:

(1) The star in his chest is his core. The black/night parts of his ghost form are slightly translucent even when not intangible/invisible. You can literally see straight through him to his core, which basically looks like a condensed white dwarf star. Also, due to the damage his core has taken and his grief, it's cracking and looks like it's going to go supernova.

(2) Danny didn't directly cause the student to get injured. The student literally just turned the corner and nearly ran right into Danny as he was wandering in his grief-stricken stupor. This caused the student to freak out, run the opposite direction, and fall down a flight of stairs cause they weren't watching where they placed their feet. Danny is not violent or territorial here. His mind has literally checked out and left because trauma, grief, and a fractured sense of ghostly self are one hell of a combo on a halfa.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny is stuck/forced to haunt the old Gotham observatory after the GIW royally screw up #danny gets pushed into another dimension to heal/deal with his grief around people who can help him #the batclan get invested and extremely worried for danny almost immediately upon meeting him #danny has two obsessions #protection and space #danny is ghost king #ghost core #his core looks like a white dwarf star #it also looks like its on the brink of going supernova #if someone doesn't help him soon thats exactly what will happen and he'll basically cease to exist #dp crossover #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #writing prompt #prompt #sleepy-writes-stuff

735 notes · View notes

cjsoleil · 4 months

Text

Straight from the Tortured Poets Department (Bang Chan x Reader)

Summary: It’s 1964 and Chan is well aware of his place in the world, and it is not with some upper class girl who’s way out of his league. That doesn’t stop either of them from falling in love.

Authors note: Sorry I haven’t updated for so long, I hope that this will make up for it. This is part one of a two part story. No warnings for this one, but part two will have smut. Anyways, get ready for some poetry, Taylor Swift references and overuse of the word babydoll. (Unrelated but Ateez Golden Hour is so so so amazing, I’m obsessed)

Update: here is part two

“Rich folk.” The man comments as he walks around the rich part of town. Looking around at the pillers of houses and multiple cars in the driveway, he whistles, “With a fence around every tree.” He kicks the metal bars around a tree lightly, the sound startling a few birds. He doesn’t end up in this neighborhood that often, but sometimes he zones out during his walks and finds himself here. That, or he is too busy running away from an angry shopkeeper or a policeman to focus on where he is going. He’s about to turn around to make his way back to town as he’s not welcomed by the upper class, but a little something catches his eye first. ‘I guess I can take a detour.’

Laying with her back on the soft grass of her backyard, Y/N takes in the warmth of the sun. Much more pleasant than the blinding white light of the hospital. After a long year, she finally got to come back to her home after exam season. It’s the very first beginning of May and she will not have to go back to school until September. She is happy to be back home, she lives in a more upscale neighborhood and is oftentimes left by her lonesome as her parents work all day. It doesn’t bother her. Her neighbors, Jongho and Seungmin, pay her visits frequently. They’re sweet and younger than her by some years. She answered all their questions about school, how long she would be back and whatever else they wanted to know.

The light breeze makes the wind chimes let out a lovely tune and she sighs. Nothing could ruin the serenity that she has built for herself.

Well, maybe it would be if she noticed that she was being watched. The metal fence surrounding the backyard is small, only reaching Chan’s hip. He admires the girl, viewing her as Persephone in her garden. It nearly feels criminal for him to even look at her. For a moment, he considers speaking to her but forces himself to take a step back instead. It nearly hurts him physically. Looking at her house, he sighs before leaving the neighborhood he is unwelcomed in. He’ll have to leave properly meeting her up to the cosmos.

Taking a nice walk is one of Y/N’s favourite ways to pass the time. She will walk to town and visit the bakery, florist and the pet store. The girl has always wanted a dog and oftentimes leaves food and water dishes out for the strays. Unfortunately, not many people are as caring as her. Hearing a crashing sound coming from the alley she is walking past, Y/N peers over and sees a few men her age throwing rocks and trash at a dog.

“Excuse me!” She announces herself with a steady voice. Once the men face her though, her sudden bravery disappears, “Um.. please don’t do such things…” her voice trails off and she shrinks into herself as their gazes become predatory. At least the dog ran off at this point.

“Well, aren’t you pretty broad?” One guy steps forward into her personal space, “I can tell we will have a good time.”

While Y/N can be stupid, she is smart enough to not stay around to figure out what he means. Within two seconds she is running down the street. Dreadfully, she can hear footsteps close behind. After running long enough to feel the burn in her legs, she reached a dead end in some alley. With nowhere else to turn, Y/N presses her back to the brick wall trapping her. Heart racing, she stares wide eyed as the men creep closer to her.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a lady.” The man closest to Y/N turns around, and is instantly punched by the new person to appear. Y/N watches the stranger as he beats the three men that chased her. She is not used to seeing much violence, but the way the stranger moves reminds her of a dance. Almost organized although chaotic. And he’s so handsome. His jawline is sharp and his biceps bulge in the confinement of his leather jacket. His clothes are dirty and his onyx hair is messy, but she finds it adds to her attraction to him. Oh, god forbid her father learns about her thoughts. After a few minutes, the stranger allows the bloody men to retreat, watching with a threatening gaze as they leave. When he faces the girl, it’s like the flame has been doused, as he looks softly at her.

“You alright, babydoll?” Ignoring the blush that comes from the nickname, Y/N nods. “I-yes. Yes I am, thank you. Are you?” Stepping closer to him, she notices his knuckles are bleeding. Without a second thought she grabs his hand and examines it, “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No it’s not. You’re bleeding because of me. Allow me to take care of you.” Guilt overcomes Y/N. Even with the knowledge that he must have been a number of fights to be able to handle himself so well.

“Doll, it’s fine. I can’t feel a thing.”

“I insist.” She is firm on her stance and starts to walk out of the alleyway, “Come along now.” And like a loyal dog, the man follows. She leads them to a little store that Chan has never stepped foot into, which is a good thing. He would hate to be recognized by a shopkeeper and be called a criminal in front of a girl he will soon be going out with. It’s weird, Chan has never felt an instant pull like this towards anything. Such a strong feeling of need. He felt it the first time he saw her and it only becomes more intense with every word she says.

When she’s buying the bandages, he is bashful. Keeping his head down as the girl thanks the cashier. Afterwards, she leads him to a empty bench nearby. All while Chan ensures that he is along the outside of the sidewalk.

“So what’s your name?” Y/N asks as she starts to wrap his right hand. He completely forgot he never introduced himself.

“Chan.”

“I’m Y/N.” She finishes bandaging his hand but doesn’t bother wrapping up the other one since it was barely bleeding. Chan flexes his right hand, “You did this really well.”

“I would hope so. I'm a nursing student.” Y/N laughs, “I’m here on my break for a few months, but I go to school towns away.” She lets go of him and Chan hums a melodic sound. “So you’re smart aren’t you?” He smiles, crossing his arms, “Too smart to be wasting time with a guy like me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Chan simply shakes his head with a smile, standing up and offering his arm to the girl. Y/N grasps the crook of his elbow and he leads them out to the sidewalk.

“Nothing.” The man looks up at the sky. It's only mid afternoon and bright outside. He’s surprised Y/N nearly got attacked in daylight, “Just- if I were to ask you to waste your day with me, would you say yes?” She smiles, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“As a matter of fact, I would. But what would we do?” Chan stands up, wearing a handsome grin on his face.

“Go on a little adventure. You in?” He holds out his hand to her and it only takes a second for Y/N to take it.

They end up wandering through a park, Y/N admiring the flowers as Chan admires her. Y/N has gotten a closer look at Chan and noticed that his clothes are stained and he has a few light scars on his hands and a faded one on his neck. She wonders how many fights Chan has got in, he doesn’t seem like a very violent person. Even when he was beating up those men. Chan is older than Y/N by a few years, him being twenty five and her twenty. He does many odd job, but works as a bartender. Chan refrained from telling her he makes shit from it since he lives above the bar for next to nothing.

“So Chan, is there any reason you asked me to spend the day with you?” She’s holding onto Chan’s arm with one of her hands, unconsciously rubbing her fingertips on the creases of his leather jacket.

“There is.” The man leads them towards a water fountain and they sit down on the edge, “I wander and strain to hear the movement of the stars above our encounter and what if you are to be my fate..” Chan finishes the verse with a smile, “The Encounter by Vladimir Nabokov.” Y/N is left in a state of bewilderment from Chan’s words.

“I did not take you as the type to know, well, any poetry.” Letting out an awkward laugh, Y/N looks down at her Mary Jane’s. Chan isn’t offended, he is rough around the edges and appears much more feral than he is.

“I always have. The poem was written for Nabokov’s wife hours after he met her.” He lifts Y/N’s head up with a gentle hold on her chin, “Maybe you are to be my fate. I think so. ” Y/N doesn’t notice that he said that as if he’s seen her before today.

“Why is that?” The girl smiles softly and Chan pulls away from her, dipping his hand in the fountain.

“I am heaven strucked.” He said the words so quietly, Y/N didn’t even hear them. And before Y/N can question him more, Chan lifts his unbandaged hand and flicks water on her. He laughs when he sees her flinch.

“Rude.” Forming a cup with her hands, she scoops up some water and quickly pours it on Chan’s head. To retaliate, Chan splashes her and Y/N shouts slightly as she stands, grabbing the attention of a few others at the park. The man pays them no mind as gets up.

“Let’s get outta here doll. I think I saw a candy shop nearby.”

And that continues throughout the week. Y/N will run into Chan while she is out and about and they will go do something together. Chan walks her home since her parents are out of town for a month. Not that Y/N is ashamed of Chan being her friend, but her parents are rather protective. Especially when it comes to boys. It explains why she has never been on a date before. Chan found it funny when she told him that.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing babydoll?”

“No, we have to be a couple to be dating.” He leaned closer to her at that moment, the corner of his lips curved up in a smirk, “And what would I have to do to make that happen?” After watching her struggle for a few moments, he placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

“You’d have to meet my parents.” Y/N finally answered and Chan’s smile had faltered. Y/N didn’t know that it was because Chan believed that he would not be approved of.

“Hello Channie.” Y/N greets the man with a grin on her face, resting her hand on the doorframe of the front door.

“Hey pretty girl.” Chan reaches out and twirls a stray lock of hair around his finger, “I like your hair up. You should style it like this more.” Y/N makes sure to remember that.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re going to that old movie you mentioned yesterday.”

“Old yeller? You’ll really go with me.” He shrugs.

“ As long as you’re happy, doll.” Y/N blushes. He has to stop saying things like that before she completely burns up. She looks past Chan’s shoulder and sees a car. A white thunderbird.

“I borrowed it from a friend.” It was easy to convince Changbin to lend him the car. He simply explained he needed it for a pretty dame.“Ah okay.” She steps out, closing and locking the door behind her, “I will enjoying seeing you cry.” “I’m not going to cry.” Chan opens the passenger door for her.

“You are.”

“Told you.” “Shut up.” Y/N grins and leans across the console, wiping Chan’s tears. “How are you fine?” Y/N shrugs.

“I read the book, so I was prepared. Don’t worry, I was much more of a wreck than you are now.” She tries to place a firm kiss on his cheek but he moves his head, so she ends up kissing the corner of his lips. After pulling away she bashfully looks out the window and avoids eye contact.

“I’d love to have a dog.” Chan says out of nowhere, “As long as I didn’t have to kill ‘em like in the movie.” He shivers at the thought, “I have a name picked out and everything.”

“Oh really, what is it?”

“Berry.” He fakes an offended expression when Y/N laughs, “ What? It works for a boy or girl.”“No, it’s cute.” The next movie of the night starts but neither of them care to pay attention, “So a dog named Berry. What else do you see in your future?”

“You.” His answer is instant, and Y/N’s face turns red. The air in the thunderbird becomes thicker and she just noticed how close Chan really is to her.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He hesitates for a moment, but leans closer to her. Eyes closed, Y/N feels Chan’s lips barely brush against hers. Her mouth parts and just as Chan is about to kiss her, a scream makes both of them jump. It’s only one of the characters on the screen but the moment is already ruined.

“Hey I’m- I’m gonna go grab a soda. Be right back.”

“Wait.” He shoved a five dollar bill in her hands. Much more than enough

“Thank you.” She quickly gets out of the car. Groaning, he rests his head on the steering wheel. It’s not like him to be so down bad for someone, but he’s starting to feel like he might as well just die if he doesn’t have the girl.

“Fuck.”

Y/N actually did want something to drink so it’s not like she was lying. She got a coke for Chan too. Hopefully the rest of the night won’t be awkward. Just as she is about to leave, she hears someone call her name.

“Y/N? That you?” Turning around, she sees San, a boy she went to go to high school with.

“San!” She exclaims, giving him a hug the best she can with her hands occupied, “Lovely seeing you, how’s school?”

“Going good. You?”

“It’s just fine.” He looks down at the two cups in her hands.

“Now, who are you here with?” Y/N has always admired how straight forward he is.

“My friend.”

“Who, someone from school?”

“No no.” San suddenly smirks, making her confused, “Why are you-“

“Hello baby.”

Arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist, she feels herself being pulled against a man’s chest. Blood rushes to her face and San doesn’t have to speak for her to know he’s teasing her. She’s so embarrassed she barely registers Chan taking one of the cup’s from her hand.

“Hey man.” San greets, a knowing glint in his eye, “Miss.Y/N here was just telling me about you. Choi San.”

“Chan.” He sounds pleasant, but Y/N can feel the tension in the older man’s chest, “How do you know my girl?”

My girl. The words echo in Y/N’s ears. Her heart flutters at the meer thought of being Chan’s.

“We- we went to school together.” Y/N says softly as Chan rubs his thumb just above the waist line of her skirt.

“It’s cool Chan.” San smiles, “I’m not into your lady like that. Just friends. I’ll see you around Y/N, let’s catch up sometime.”

“Of course.” San walks away and Chan holds Y/N’s free hand with his own.

“Let’s go.” He starts to lead her outside.

“Were you nervous around San?” Y/N asks him, earning a confused glance from Chan, “You were all tensed up.” Shaking his head, he grins.“No. Not that.” Y/N thinks about it for another second, before she grins. “You were jealous weren’t you?” He laughs, “What, you were getting ready to beat the man?”

“Only if he touched you again.” Y/N tsks as the get inside the car.

“We’re old friends. Besides, you shouldn’t be so quick to pick a fight.” She grabs Chan’s hand and lifts it while resting her elbow on the middle console, “Look at these scars. That’s all fighting is gonna get you. You’re gonna break something.”

“Isn’t that why I have you, Nurse Y/N? To fix me?” She sighs, putting down their arms.

“I will try my best too.” Chan reaches over and cups the nape of her neck.

“You’ve been doing pretty good so far.” He doesn’t elaborate on how she makes him want to better himself. Become someone worthy of her time.

If Y/N heard his thoughts, she would be quick to deny. Chan does not have to change in any way.

When the movie ends, Chan drives Y/N back to her house. He walks her to the door, but the girl doesn’t make a move to go inside. She faces Chan and grabs one of his hands.

“So.” She starts, face heating up, “Am I your girl?” Chan seems confused fora second, before he lets out a small laugh.

“Yeah babydoll.” Placing his hands on her waist, he pulls her closer to him, “As long as I’m your man.” Instead of answering with words, Y/N takes a tiny step forward. Hands on Chan’s shoulders, she leans up on her tiptoes.

“What about your parents?” Chan whispers, glancing at the house they’re infront of, “I thought you wanted me to meet them first.”

“I don’t care anymore.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N sighs, “I only want you, my dear.” The endearment makes Chan lose all sense of self control he had. He kisses her softly at first, to give her the feel of it. Odds are he’s her first kiss. The thought makes his hold on her waist tighten, as if she will fly away if he doesn’t.

Tilting his head, he deepens their kiss, running his tongue over her lower lip. Y/N could swear he moaned a bit. When Chan pulls away, Y/N sees that his face is flushed and he smiles shyly. Cute. Y/N steps away from the man and quickly unlocks the front door. Stepping inside, she turns to the other.

“Goodnight Chan.”

“Night doll.”

“Sorry this isn’t so fancy.” Chan apologizes to Y/N as she looks around the diner. As much as he would love to bring her to a nicer place, he simply can’t afford to.

“Oh it’s charming.” The diner is small and quaint. Very colourful too. The booth they sit at is baby blue and the stools at the front are bright red. The large windows give them a view outside. Specifically of a couple birds hopping around and looking for crumbs, “Just like you.” Getting Chan flustered is one of her favourite hobbies Y/N decided, much to Chan’s dismay. He lifts up the menu to cover his face, making her laugh.

Y/N takes a forkful off her cake, chocolate of course, and holds it across the table up to Chan’s lips. He instantly opens his mouth and takes the bite of the desert. It would normally be a little sweet for his tastes, but he has a newfound fondness for sweet things.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” He swallows and shakes his head.

“All good here.” He looks past Y/N’s shoulder, “Wait one sec.” Chan gets up and Y/N watches as he makes his way to the jukebox at the back wall. He flips through the records until he finally decides on one. Can’t help falling in love with you plays throughout the diner.

When he is infront of Y/N, he dramatically bows with one arm at his back, the other wrapped around his front.

“May I have this dance, Y/N?” She has to conceal a laugh at how serious he sounds. He barely ever uses her name, preferring to go for a nickname ever since they first met.

“Here?” Y/N looks around. The diner is mostly empty, but she still finds it embarrassing to do such things in public. When Chan urges her by holding out his hand, she takes the last bite of her cake before accepting it. Chan pulls her up and puts her hand on his shoulder, his own going to her waist. Their free hands are held up and linked. Chan starts to lead her into a dance.

“My my Channie, where did you learn to dance?”

“I picked up a few things throughout the years.” He spins her and when he brings Y/N back to him, she rests her head against his shoulder.

“Are you moving back here when you’re done school?” Chan asks after a few quiet moments. Y/N lifts her head and looks at him.

“I don’t really have any other choice.” Their swaying slowly now, not acknowledging the song change, “Everything is here. My house, my family, you.” She says the last word quietly. Chan pulls her closer to his chest and lets go of her hand to hold her waist.

“I’d follow you anywhere.” Y/N laughs at how outrageous he is.

“This is our first date.”

“First of many.” Chan rebutted and Y/N would be lying if she protested.

“You’re such a romantic, Chan dear.”

“I can be even more romantic.” He gestures to the door, “Let’s get out of here.”

Chan leads her to a somewhat small hill and holds her hand as they start walking up it. Once they get to the top, they sit down on the grass under a cherry blossom tree.

“I’ve been looking for a job.” Chan breaks the silence, leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree, bark slightly digging into his scalp.

“I thought you already had one.”

“I need a better one.” He sighs, “The one I have pays shi-“ He stops himself, “Now that I have you, it’s not enough anymore. It barely was to start with.” Y/N hums.

“I’m happy for you.” She thinks of his words for another second, confusion growing, “What do you mean ‘now that I have you’?”

“You’re mine, are you not?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Chan lifts his head and looks at her properly.

“Babydoll, as of now it’s my job to take care of you. Provide for you. I don’t want your life to be less than you deserve just because you chose to be with me-“

“Hold it.” Y/N slaps her hand against Chan’s mouth, “If you think I’ll be any less happy with you, you're truly mistaken. Money has nothing to do with that.” She moves her hand and Chan stares at her for a second, before he grins a boyish smile.

“Still. I don’t want to be jumping people for twenty bucks just so I can take you on a date.”

“You rob people?” It shouldn’t be surprising, but Chan’s personality doesn’t come off as someone who looks to fight. Chan looks amused though.

“I’m not a great person, doll.” Y/N thinks for a moment, not really minding if Chan steals or robs. It’s what some people have to do.

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyways.” Upon hearing the quote, Chan smiles. He leans over and kisses her cheek before wrapping his arm around her. “That would take too long.” Y/N leans her head down on his shoulder, “Besides, I’m leaving all that behind me.” Become as amazing as you are. He doesn’t say the words, but lets the thought linger. Chan would change himself a hundred times over to be what Y/N should have.

“Speaking of leaving…” Y/N starts, tugging at the bottom of Chan’s jacket, “I’m leaving town at the end of summer. You’ll- you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

Chan doesn’t answer. He lifts Y/N’s head up and cups her face, bringing his head down to kiss her. It’s not nearly as soft as the first time, making both of them lose their breath.

“We already established you’re mine.” He whispers between kisses, “I’m yours.” He kisses her neck, making Y/N shiver from the unfamiliar contact, “I’d wait for years if I needed to. You’re my fate, remember?” Another kiss on her neck.

“Yeah.” A large hand is placed on her thigh as Chan starts to nip at her neck, free hand tangling into her hair. Suddenly, the chirping of nightingales and the sounds of crickets disappears and all there is, is Chan.

It’s not until his hand rides a little higher, does Y/N come back to reality. She flinches and grabs Chan’s hand, making him pull away. Before she can talk, Chan starts apologizing.

“I’m sorry.” “No it’s-“ “It’s not okay. It’s unacceptable. I’m sorry.” Silence fills the air around them for a few moments. Chan didn’t mean to get carried away. Y/N just makes him a little out of control, though that gives no excuse.

“I can help you. Look for a job, I mean.” Chan’s happy for any break of their awkward silence.

“Really?”

“Yeah. If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks babydoll.”

40 notes · View notes