#enemy of my enemy cannot be my friend in this case. i hope he and his followers die thank u 👍

[kimmkitsuragi]

i will say it again. even though the radical islamists are supporting palestine, they are still doing it through their twisted world-view. so no matter how many millions of people that fucker rallies up, it won't feel meaningful to me unfortunately :/

[oxbellows]

Welcome Home! Nothing Weird Happened.

Written based on @emilybeemartin's spectacular Boromir Lives AU comics, with permission. I might write more, who knows.

My whole thought process here is this: if Boromir lives and makes it back to Minas Tirith, he is about to receive an absolutely ludicrous quantity of bad news. And I for one think it would be both plausible and hilarious for Pippin to be the one who ends up delivering that news. So here we are!

Trigger warnings for that whole pyre situation from Return of the King.

 It was fitting, to Boromir’s mind, that the battle for Minas Tirith should be decided by dead men. So many had died for the city of kings already, their blood seeping into her soil like rain. Why, then, should her fate rest solely in the hands of the living? An unnatural justice rang out in the clang of steel against phantom blades, heralding the return of a hope long since given up for lost. 

“None but the king of Gondor may command me,” the wraith hissed.

“You?” Boromir had roared. “You, Oathbreaker? I am the heir to the Stewards of Gondor. Generations of my kin have died for an empty throne. None but the king of Gondor may command ME. Here stands the king of Gondor before us, and you will suffer him as I have!”

And suffer him they did. Sickly green washed over the last armored oliphaunt as the dead claimed more souls for their own. Boromir pulled his eyes away from the spectacle and spun his sword in his hand, scanning the area around him for the next foe. He found none. Only the backs of retreating orcs, and weary Men attending to their fallen brothers. That and, out of the corner of his eye, the strangest possible trio of a Man, a Dwarf, and an Elf. Finding no enemy to engage, Boromir instead turned his step toward the strange trio to embrace his friends in the wake of victory. 

Aragorn, king of Gondor, did not appear especially regal at the moment. He was covered in grime and gore, surrounded by the corpses of orcs left to rot in the open field. Gimli’s sturdy metal armor was slick with blood, and it dripped steadily off the edge of the axe that he had slung over one shoulder. Legolas, of course, was only as disheveled as he might have been after a short run, clean of the muck that covered the rest of them. His hair still fell properly at his shoulder, what witchcraft did the Elf use to maintain it? 

Boromir could only imagine what he himself must look like. He knew that he was damp and smelled like death, which did not bode well for a lordly appearance. Nonetheless, even in all his heavy armor Boromir felt lighter than he had since childhood. The battle was over, fought now only by those straggling beasts that had not managed to escape the field on foot. Boromir was still, impossibly, alive, and so were his companions. So was his king. 

The enemy may yet prevail, but Gondor would not fall before the White Tree bloomed again. It was more than his grandfathers had ever dared to hope. 

“Is that blood in your hair or just its natural grease?” Boromir asked his king, sliding his sword back into its scabbard and stepping over the body of a fallen orc to approach him.

Aragorn laughed, raising one dirty hand to skim his fingertips over the top of his head. “I cannot say, Captain. I only know that in either case, I would wash it before I present myself to your lord father.”

Boromir clicked his tongue dismissively. “My lord father’s not the one we have to worry about. If my brother hears that I’ve brought Isildur’s heir home in such a state, he’ll throttle me.”

He almost continued speaking. He almost added, if he’s alive. Aragorn heard the unspoken caveat all the same. His dark eyes had a softness in them when he spoke.

“The battle is over, Captain of the White Tower,” Aragorn said. “We must turn our efforts now to the dead and wounded. May we not find you kin among them.”

If the taste of ash settled on the back of Boromir’s tongue, it could be attributed to the smell of Mordor’s filthy army laying dead at his feet, and not to the terrible image that flashed across his mind’s eye of Faramir’s bloodied and unblinking face.

“My father will be well,” Boromir asserted, determined not to speculate on his brother’s wellbeing. “He is past his time as a warrior. He will have commanded our troops from a place of safety within the walls.”

Aragorn inclined his head in assent. His hair really was a sight- black blood had matted chunks of it together, and where they stood now in the open field, with the sun just beginning to peek through the enemy’s unnatural bank of shadow, Boromir could see that his clothes were in much the same state. Perhaps this was why Aragorn so persistently favored black for his travel clothes. Were he wearing any other color, it would be obvious that he was as drenched in the blood of orcs as if he had bathed in it. 

A warrior of staggering skill was this king of Men, but he preferred not to proclaim his deadliness to the world. He tucked it away into shadow until such skill was needed. Perhaps one day Boromir might look upon this man that he called brother and not be humbled by the mere sight of him. 

Perhaps. 

“I will search with a sharp eye, then, for Captain Faramir,” Aragorn promised. 

Boromir closed the distance between them to grip Aragorn’s shoulder in thanks. Aragorn returned the gesture with ferocity, digging his fingers into the mail covering Boromir’s upper arm. Gimli thumped Boromir’s back in a heavy handed gesture of approval, and Legolas bowed his head with a coy smile. A river of unspoken words passed between the four of them, about great and important things like love and fear at the end of the world, and then they released each other. Aragorn turned his stride towards the Citadel to lend his knowledge of elvish medicine to the House of Healing. Legolas and Gimli set out together to help carry the wounded into the city for aid. Boromir made for the rocky outcrop at the city’s outermost wall, the one that archers favored for its vantage point. There he was sure he would find rangers, and hopefully news of Faramir.

The walk carried him past countless dead orcs and uruk-hai, but also more dead men and horses than Boromir had ever seen on a single field. For every pair of comrades he saw embrace in giddy relief, another wail of grief reached his ears from somewhere else. His mail grew heavier with every step he took.

Boromir had scarcely made it halfway to the archer’s outpost before he was stopped by the sound of his own name.

“Captain Boromir!” a familiar voice shouted. “You live!”

Boromir stopped and whirled about. There, about ten yards from Boromir, close enough to the outermost wall to be half-concealed in its shadow, crouched a man in a forest-green cloak. His hands still hovered over a fallen Gondorian soldier, as if he had frozen partway through checking for signs of life. Before the man in green rose to stand, he brushed a hand over the fallen one’s face, coaxing his eyes shut before stepping away. Boromir felt a dull pang of grief in his already overburdened heart at the confirmation that yet another of his countrymen was dead. He had no time to acknowledge that pain, though, as the man in green righted himself fully. The green cloak, brown leather vambraces, and longbow on his back all sparked immediate recognition. 

Boromir knew this man, had met him before, but his weary mind failed to provide a name for him. It hardly mattered. The uniform he wore told Boromir everything he needed to know. Faramir had been clad exactly the same, the last time Boromir had seen him. This was one of the rangers of Ithilien, his brother’s own company. Hope swelled painfully in his chest. He hastened his step towards the ranger.

The ranger rushed to meet him and performed a quick, obligatory salute when they were close enough to speak comfortably. “My lord,” he greeted, breathless. “Your father thought you dead, but we in Captain Faramir’s company held out hope.” A wide grin split across his face. “You cannot imagine how sorely you’ve been missed!”

Seeing his smile finally dragged the ranger’s name to the front of Boromir’s memory. “Anborn,” he said warmly. “It’s good to see you alive and well. Tell me, what news do you have of my brother?”

 Anborn’s smile dropped, giving way to a look of naked concern as quickly as a candle being snuffed out. “I have no news, my lord, none that is not two days old at least.”

 "Then give me the old news,” Boromir pressed, trying not to snap. 

Anborn grimaced and nodded. “My lord,” he said, haltingly, “The last time I saw your brother, my Captain, was on the day he rode out to reclaim Osgiliath with a company of forty mounted soldiers.”

Boromir could only stare for a long moment, turning over Anborn’s words in his head to try and make them comprehensible. No clarity came to him. “My brother is- in Osgiliath?”

Another grimace. “If he is still there, he is dead.” Boromir’s lungs constricted and froze. Anborn continued, “Osgiliath was overrun more than a week ago. I’ve heard rumors that Faramir made it back to the Citadel, but I cannot say any more than that without inventing rumors myself.”

“The Citadel,” Boromir repeated. He forced breath into his uncooperative lungs. He would go to the Citadel, and he would find Faramir there with their father, incoherent with frustration after arguing strategy with Denethor. He turned on his heel and started walking. Anborn said something as Boromir strode away, but he didn’t hear it properly over the ringing in his ears. 

What he had heard of Anborn’s words clamored in his mind- it sounded as if Faramir had taken a company of only forty men to reclaim an overrun city. That would be absurd, though. Faramir may be prone to bouts of melancholy and brooding, but he wasn’t suicidal. And even if he did, for some reason, decide to seek his own death, he would never bring any number of Gondor’s defenders with him to do it.

 Your father thought you dead.

 Boromir broke into a run.

Faramir didn’t hold sway over all their troops’ movements. Faramir wasn’t the Steward. 

 He was moving too slowly. Stumbling to a halt, Boromir grasped at the leather straps holding his pauldrons in place and did his best to unfasten them with numb fingers. Denethor had not been the same in recent years. The shadow in the east had darkened his thoughts, day by day, and set him talking as if the end were already here. His gray eyes had glinted in a way that Boromir scarcely recognized when he’d spoken of the One Ring. He’d never favored Faramir, never encouraged him the way he deserved, but the cruelty that had colored Denethor’s every interaction with his secondborn in the year or two before Boromir left shocked him. 

Boromir’s pauldrons landed on the ground in a heap, and now he doubled over to escape the shirt of mail. It was a difficult task without taking off his sword belt, but he managed. He needed to be faster, but he could not bear to go unarmed. The chain links poured gracelessly down over his head, yanking his hair as they went, and then he was free. Boromir took off running again, now unencumbered. 

 Faramir would never plan a suicide mission. 

 Would he accept one, though, if he was ordered?

Boromir’s feet touched white marble bricks for the first time in months that had felt like decades. He did not pause. Shouts followed him as he went, calling his name or exclaiming surprise. Arches and edifices flew by overhead. Rubble littered the street. He caught glances of bodies crushed under great stones. 

Boromir made it to the stairs. His weary legs burned and protested, but he dared not slow his descent. He needed to know where Faramir was, now. He needed to know what had happened in Osgiliath, before any more ideas had the chance to take root in his head. If he finished the line of thinking that Anborn’s news had set off-

 Boromir might kill his father with his bare hands.

So, he would not stop, and he would not think, until he found answers.

 He reached the top of the stairs. 

 A small group of guards, maybe five or six, clustered together at the Citadel gate, all spoke over each other in urgent tones. Boromir could not hear most of their words over his own ragged breath, but he caught a few. He heard “Mithrandir” and “Witch King” and “wood”, and then, “Denethor.” 

“Where?” Boromir barked. Every one of the men before him startled and turned to him with unabashed fear written across their faces.

If Boromir had looked a mess back on the fields, by now he must appear absolutely deranged. Half his armor gone, hair wild, white shirt drenched with sweat and blood- he could hardly blame the unsuspecting guards for the shock and confusion they displayed so brazenly at his question. Nor could he blame himself for the urge to grab the nearest one and shake him until he spoke sense.

Fortunately for all present, the guard furthest to the left, a man of slight and youthful stature underneath his plate armor, spoke up.

“The House of Stewards,” he said, voice trembling. He pointed in the right direction. “In the tombs. Both of them, lord and son, with orders from the Steward to be left undisturbed.”

 Boromir ran like he had never done in his life. 

 For what possible reason would his father and brother be in the tombs in the midst of battle?

 He threw himself against the door to the tombs of his forefathers. They gave way with no resistance, and as he stumbled through the opening, he noted that the floor was dusted with splintered wood. This door had already been broken through. There he stopped short.

He could not, for the life of him, make sense of the scene before him.

 In the center of the foyer, directly on top of Húrin’s memorial etching, were the remains of- a bonfire? Heaps of ash and charred wood covered the usually immaculate white marble floor, built up into a high, still-smoldering mound in the chamber’s center. The air reeked of smoke. Neither Denethor nor Faramir were in sight, nor was anyone else. The tombs appeared deserted.

  “Faramir?” Boromir called warily. 

A clang of metal and the scuffle of unshod feet on stone answered his call, and then-

“Boromir!”

A small form collided hard with his midsection, forcing him to take a staggering step back. Small arms wrapped around him like a vice, a familiar vice, and Boromir abruptly realized that he was in the embrace of a hobbit.

“Pippin?” he demanded, aghast.

The young hobbit turned his face up to meet his gaze and a fresh wave of panic seized him. Pippin’s face was coated in ash and streaked with tears.

“Boromir!” Pippin cried again. “You have to help, Gandalf said that healers were coming but nobody came, there was screaming in the halls so I dragged him as far as I could but he’s heavy and I don’t know where Gandalf went and just- just- come here!” 

The hobbit released his iron grip around Boromir’s waist in favor of clutching one of his wrists and started hauling him off to one side of the room, into a corridor of mausoleums. There, poking out of the nearest alcove, Boromir spied the lower half of a single black boot. 

Pippin pulled him onward when his own pace faltered. With each step he could see more of the body that Pippin had apparently tried to drag to safety. A small, or rather, hobbit-sizedsword lay carelessly discarded on the floor beneath the alcove’s arching entrance where Pippin had dropped it. That would explain the clanging sound Boromir had heard just before being tackled, then. Which would mean that when he called out, Pippin had been guarding this archway with sword in hand. 

Pippin’s relentless tugging finally forced Boromir to where he could see the stricken man on the floor.

It was Faramir.

Of course it was Faramir. 

A rough, strangled sound echoed through the quiet tombs, and Boromir only realized a moment later that it had come from his own throat. Pippin darted from his side to kneel at his brother’s head, petting his hair and murmuring a soothing word. Faramir did not react in the slightest. He wasn’t dead; Boromir had seen enough dead men in his life to know with unfailing precision the difference between a dead body and a dying one.

No, his brother was not dead. He was only dying. 

Boromir dropped to his knees. 

In all this time that he had dreaded coming home and hearing that Faramir had fallen in battle, it had never occurred to Boromir that he might watch him die.

“He needs medicine,” Pippin pleaded, his little hand nestled in Faramir’s hair. Boromir now saw that the hobbit was dressed in the garb of the guards of Citadel, mail under a velvet tunic embroidered with the white tree. What had happened in his city? When had this barely-trained halfling become his brother’s last line of defense?

“Go,” Boromir rasped. He touched the hilt of his sword. “I will protect him now. Go to the House of Healing, down one level. Aragorn is there. He will listen to you.”

Without another word, Pippin took off at a sprint. Boromir and Faramir were left alone, together for the first time since Boromir had left for Rivendell. 

Boromir wanted to scream.

Instead, he maneuvered himself carefully to sit at his brother’s side. How Pippin had managed to stash Faramir away in this little nook, Boromir had no idea. He could only just find room for himself against the wall without jostling the motionless body beside him. He reached a tentative hand out to lay it on Faramir’s forehead. He paused before he touched skin, momentarily stunned by the radiating heat. When his fingers settled on his brother’s brow, it was like touching metal that had been left in the sun too long. Faramir burned. Boromir gently smoothed his hand over damp hair.

It wasn’t just Faramir’s hair that was damp, actually. It was everything on him. His short beard, the finely embroidered collar of his tunic, the silk of his sleeves. If his fever was so high, it was not so surprising to find him coated in sweat. The choice of clothes, though, was undeniably strange. There was no blood staining the fabric. Had he not been hurt in battle, then? Had he simply been taken by a violent illness? Was there a plague in the city? That might explain the lack of gore but not the presence of finery. Boromir had only ever seen Faramir wear this tunic for ceremonies. He wouldn’t have put it on before battle, and he would certainly have taken it off if he were falling ill. 

No, the only reasonable conclusion was that Faramir had not been the one to dress himself. A terrible, unspeakable suspicion wormed its way into his heart. 

Boromir almost regretted sending Pippin away without first asking him what had happened to create this bizarre tableau. Almost. His answers could wait until Faramir had been brought safely into the care of physicians. He lifted his hand to stroke Faramir’s hair again, but the slickness that clung to his palm bade him pause.

That wasn’t sweat in his brother’s hair, it was something else, something more viscous. Puzzled beyond words, Boromir brought his hand close to his face to inspect it. 

His palm was smeared with oil.

All at once, a dozen disparate fragments of information arranged themselves into nightmarish clarity.

Someone had dressed Faramir for a funeral. Someone had brought him into the place where the bones of their ancestors rested and covered him in oil. Someone had lit a bonfire in the center of the tombs. 

Not a bonfire. A pyre.

Someone had tried to burn his little brother alive.

 “No,” Boromir whispered, as if he could prevent his next thought from taking shape.

Only one person in Gondor could do any of this without being stopped.

In the tombs, the guard at the gate had said. Both of them, lord and son, with orders from the Steward to be left undisturbed.

Boromir launched himself upright, out of the cramped alcove, and was sick all over the marble floor.

For the second time in a day, Pippin found himself running for someone else’s life. At least he didn’t have so far to go this time. He could not remember ever being so tired. It was also fortunate that he knew already where to find the House of Healing. Gandalf had insisted he memorize the route there as soon as he’d made his oath to Denethor, which was a bit insulting, to be honest, but turned out very useful in the end.

 The first time he’d entered the House, just a few days ago, he’d thought it was very full. Most of the rows of clean, simple cots had been occupied by rangers returning from outside the city. As he dashed through the sturdy oaken door now, though, he entered a different world entirely.

The cacophony of sound, smell and movement that surged up to meet him stopped Pippin in his tracks. The House of Healing was so crowded he could not see the far wall. He could barely see the nearest row of cots. Tall ladies rushed about in every direction, shouting orders to one another above a nauseating din of groans and cries. Pippin had been standing guard in a cloud of smoke for hours, and yet the onslaught of ugly and unfamiliar smells that accosted him here made him wish for the scent of smoke again.

His foray into the front lines of a battle had been terrifying. This place might be worse.

Boromir had said that Aragorn was here, though, and Pippin would walk headfirst into an army of orcs right now if it meant that Aragorn would help him. He never wanted to be in charge of anything, ever again, especially not trying to keep great lords and heroes alive. Aragorn was good at that sort of thing, he could take over now. Pippin took a deep breath and began forging a path through the chaos, calling Aragorn’s name as he went.

As he weaved his way through cots, ducking underneath outstretched arms and around long legs, Pippin heard questions following him that he had no desire to answer.

“How old is that boy? Who let a child in the guard?”

"Is that one of those halflings? The wizard’s pet or something?”

“Are you lost, little one?”

Some of these Men had the most terrible manners, clearly. Most of them were bleeding very badly, though, so Pippin could forgive them for their rudeness. He ignored them all and kept moving.

“Aragorn!” he shouted again.

A women that had been rushing by him paused for an instant to glare down at him. “Hush, you,” she scolded, in a voice that spoke of unquestionable authority. She wore a sort of veil with a nice brooch on it, so Pippin supposed she might be in charge here. “Lord Aragorn’s doing very important things right now and I’ll not have you disturbing him.”

Pippin’s heart jumped. “Where is he?” he asked.

The woman tsked and shook her head, making to continue along her original path. She held a bowl in her arms that Pippin was quite sure he did not want to see the inside of. Whatever it was sloshed unpleasantly when Pippin lurched after the women and grabbed a handful of her skirt to prevent her from leaving.

“The Steward has ordered me to fetch Aragorn! Show me where he is!” Pippin declared. He didn’t think it was a lie. Denethor was dead, so that made Boromir the Steward in his place, probably.

The woman gasped in surprise. “Lord Denethor lives?” she asked. “Wondrous news, we thought lord and son dead already.”

 Pippin avoided the question about Denethor by standing up as straight as he could. “Lord Faramir needs medicine,” he said imperiously. “He needs Aragorn’s skill. Take me to Aragorn.”

With a quick hand gesture to follow and not another word, the woman took off walking at a brisk stride deeper into the crowded hall. Pippin had to run to keep up with her. After what seemed like a dozen maneuvers around clumps of people and cots, a figure clad all in black finally came into view.

“Strider!” Pippin cried with relief. 

Aragon knelt at a young man’s bedside with a wet rag and bowl of water in his hands. He turned his face at once toward the sound of Pippin’s voice, a genuine smile gracing his lips as he did. Some of the panic that had been driving Pippin these last several hours faded away at the sight. If Aragorn was here, then surely things would get better now.

His relief faltered a bit when Pippin noticed that Aragorn was simply ­covered in blood- both red and black, and sweat, and grime that Pippin could not begin to identity. The Men gathered round him didn’t seem to mind Aragorn’s state, but then, most of them were splattered with blood as well, probably their own. Even Aragorn could not dispel the somber truth hanging in the air, that unimaginably many people had died today.

Faramir would join the dead soon if Pippin didn’t get a move on, so he marched past all those tall, bloodied Men to stand right at Aragorn’s side.

“Faramir’s dying,” he hissed, hoping he was quiet enough for none but Aragorn to hear. He didn’t especially want to deliver more bad news to the people in this room. “Boromir is with him, but he needs medicine, now.”

If Aragorn found this news distressing, he did not show it. He just nodded thoughtfully, and asked, “Can he walk?”

Pippin shook his head. Aragorn hummed an acknowledgment and rose to his feet. He handed the bowl and rag he’d been holding to another woman that Pippin hadn’t noticed before, murmuring something that sounded like instructions. He then spoke to the lady that had led Pippin, the one who seemed to be in charge.

“Ioreth,” he addressed her. “We have need of a stretcher.”

“It will be done,” she said, and turned on her heel to vanish back into the crowded hall.

Aragorn wiped his hands on his trousers to dry them. Pippin suspected he made them dirtier in the process. “Pippin,” Aragorn said. “Will you please lead me to Boromir and Faramir?”

“Yes, this way,” Pippin answered quickly. He was eager to be out of this terrifying place. He found it easier than before to navigate through the throng. He realized after a few moments of uninhibited movement that people were stepping aside to make way as soon as they saw Aragorn following him.

Had Aragorn already gotten around to being crowned while Pippin was busy? These people were certainly treating him like a king.

“Did you already become the King?” Pippin asked without thinking.

Aragorn chuckled dryly. “No, and I don’t think the lady healers would much care if I had. They care only that I know how to draw out the poison that covers many orcish blades, and that I’ve shared what I know.”

“Oh,” said Pippin, feeling queasy.

Finally, the door came into sight, and with a quick burst of speed, Pippin flung himself back into fresh air. Mostly fresh, anyway, permitting for some lingering smoke. The smell of blood and death that lingered in his nostrils seemed even more vile when contrasted against another, cleaner scent, and it made him gag. Aragorn placed a sympathetic hand between his shoulders.

“The battle to save the wounded is the hardest and the bloodiest,” he said gently. “There’s no shame in being shocked by it.”

Pippin couldn’t quite speak yet, so he bobbed his head in a jerky, shaking nod. He allowed himself two deep breaths before turning his attention back to the task at hand. Right. Faramir. Shot full of arrows and nearly burned to death, currently stashed in a mausoleum, actively perishing of fever. He had to bring Aragorn there, and then maybe he could sit down for a moment. He set off again at a jog.

Aragorn, being unfairly long-legged, could follow him with a brisk walk. Pippin was growing weary of these big people, he really was.

Back over the same cold marble stone he went, retracing his steps to the tombs. Two men carrying a stretcher had started following them at some point- Pippin hadn’t noticed exactly where they came from, but the stretcher they carried was already stained with red, so he suspected that they had been going back and forth from the House of Healing for a while already. Aragorn let there be silence between them for several yards, but began asking questions as soon as they crossed under a crumbling archway.

“What happened to Faramir to leave him needing medicine?”

“He was shot at least twice, I’m not sure when. Sometime yesterday.”

"Where has he been?”

“Well, he got shot when he was fighting in Osgiliath, and then the horse dragged him back, and that probably made it worse, actually, but then Denethor put him away someplace for a day or so and then brought him into the tombs and tried to burn him alive.”

Aragorn froze for a moment. “What?”

“Denethor lost his mind just before the battle started, he tried to burn Faramir alive on a pyre. And himself too, I think. He thought the world was ending.”

“Where is Denethor now?”

“He jumped off the wall.”

Aragorn took up walking again, now at a faster stride. “Boromir is with his brother now?”

"Yes,” Pippin confirmed, doing his best to keep up with Aragorn’s pace.

“Does he know what happened?”

That was a good question, actually. Had Pippin explained the situation at all? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember most of today, to be honest- it was all a blur of screams and fire.

He remembered the blinding panic he’d felt when heavy footsteps had entered the tombs. He remembered clutching his sword with sweaty hands and bracing himself to get torn to shreds by uruk-hai, and then abandoning his sword to hurl himself at Boromir once he’d heard the man’s voice. What had Boromir said, though? Anything? Had Pippin said anything?

He remembered Boromir dropping heavily onto his knees. The look on his face had been awful. He looked sad and scared and sick all at once. Pippin had never been sure what the word anguish meant, but he was sure now.

“I don’t think so,” Pippin finally answered.

 Aragorn muttered something to himself, a string of elvish words that Pippin had never heard before. It sounded like what Legolas said when he missed a shot, though, so Pippin could wager a guess at what it meant.

At last, they reached the door to the House of Stewards. Pippin darted through, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Aragorn was still following. Through the foyer, around the smoldering remains of the pyre, down the corridor on the right, and there they were. The lords of Gondor. Not quite as Pipping had left them.

Boromir had extracted Faramir from the alcove where Pippin had dragged him to lay his brother out in the open. The fine silk tunic Faramir had worn lay in oil-soaked shreds scattered about the floor, and the mail shirt he’d had on underneath was similarly cast aside, half-obscuring a puddle of vomit near the entry to the alcove. Pippin was sympathetic- being in this place made him want to retch, too.

Faramir lay on his side in his undershirt. The fabric had been white once, Pippin knew, but blood, oil and ash had colored it through. Boromir knelt at his back, holding him steady by the upper arm with one hand and gently tearing the cloth of the ruined shirt with the other. The cloth didn’t move the way it should when Boromir tugged it. It stuck stubbornly to Faramir’s scorched upper back and shoulder, like it had been glued there.

Pippin gasped in horror as the realization hit him. Boromir couldn’t get Faramir’s shirt off because it was stuck to his burnt skin, fused in place by the heat of the fire. Had his skin melted? Could skin melt? The thought alone sickened him.

Boromir must have heard Pippin gasp, because his head snapped up to fix the hobbit with a wild stare.

Pippin didn’t usually think of Boromir as frightening. Fearsome, of course, but not to his friends. Certainly never to Pippin.

He looked frightening now. His eyes were wide, and his pupils were tiny pinpoints. His lips were pulled back into an animalistic expression, somewhere between a grimace and a snarl, showing just a hint of teeth. His shoulders curled forward, hunching slightly over Faramir’s still form, and through his thin, damp shirt Pippin could see he was shaking with pent up energy.

When Pippin was younger, one of Farmer Maggot’s dogs had gone missing. They’d found the creature hiding under a shed, nursing a bleeding paw, growling and snapping at any hobbit that tried to approach. Boromir did not make a sound, but Pippin swore he could hear the same wounded dog’s growling all the same.

Pippin felt rather than heard Aragorn approaching from behind him, and it was a great relief when Boromir’s gaze flicked up off his face to fixate on Aragorn instead. With what seemed to be a tremendous effort, Boromir opened his mouth to speak.

“Where is Denethor?” he rasped, voice shaking.

Aragorn took a cautious step forward, moving in front of Pippin. He held his hands up, fingers splayed open, the way he did when trying to settle a spooked horse. “Boromir, my brother-” he began, voice soft and steady.

Boromir interrupted before he could take another step. “Tell me where my father is, Aragorn,” he croaked. “Tell me so I can find him and gut him.”

“He’s dead,” Pippin blurted. “He set himself on fire and then he went off the edge of the wall and died.”

Aragorn stiffened. Boromir’s jaw went slack. He heard gasps from the men carrying the stretcher behind him.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken. Gandalf was always telling him something to that effect.

Boromir let out long, low groan and slumped in on himself, bowing his head so low his forehead grazed Faramir’s hair. He released the firm grip he’d been maintaining on his brother’s upper arm to grab fistfuls of his own hair instead.

Aragorn moved swiftly to kneel beside Boromir. He wrapped one arm around Boromir’s shoulders and pulled him into a lopsided embrace. Boromir went without protest, deflated and boneless against his king. Aragorn spoke to him, too softly for Pippin to hear, and coaxed him to shuffle backwards just a pace or two to create space at Faramir’s side. The two half-forgotten men with the stretcher between them seized their opportunity and swept in to gather Faramir up. Boromir twitched forward when they lifted his brother, but Aragorn held him back with a hand on his chest. With quick, synchronized steps, Faramir was taken out of the tombs.

Louder now, so Pippin could hear again, Aragorn spoke with real regret in his voice. “I must follow them. I promise I will give all the skill I have to make Lord Faramir well.”

“I’m coming,” Boromir stated.

Aragorn fixed him with a hard stare. “It will be ugly,” he warned. “I’ll have to cut the shirt off his back, and I expect much of his skin to come with it. If he wakes it will be to scream.”

“I know,” said Boromir.

“I would rather not find your blade shoved through my heart while I work.”

Boromir flushed. “I would not.”

Aragorn raised one eyebrow. “All the same, if you wish to follow, leave your sword at the door for my peace of mind.”

Boromir opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it and simply bowed his head in assent. Aragorn hauled himself to his feet and offered Boromir a hand up, which Boromir accepted without hesitation.

“Can I help?” Pippin asked, surprising himself.

Aragorn eyed him up and down. One corner of his lips twitched upward. “Yes, Pippin, I think you can help us all very much by staying at Boromir’s side and keeping him calm. If you have any more news to deliver, however, perhaps you could share it beforewe enter the House of Healing?”

Pippin recognized the admonishment for what it was and ducked his head, chastened. On the other hand, now that he mentioned it-

“Gandalf’s staff is broken,” he announced.

Aragorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I see. Thank you, Pippin. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Very well. If you think of something, take Boromir out into the hall and tell him.” Aragorn turned to Boromir and spoke sternly. “Boromir, if Pippin takes you out into the hall, I forbid you to pick up your sword until we have had a chance to speak.”

Boromir huffed out something very close to a laugh. “Wise council, my king.”

[guided-by-stars]

It baffles me when I see other people going through Stars and Time and they get frustrated when 1. Bonnie pushes Siffrin into the tear, and 2. Siffrin doesn't find the key in the Head Housemaiden's office and they get softlocked. There's frustration that comes out in other points as well, but those are the two situations where I've seen it be the most intense. I've seen people yell at Bonnie, yell at Mirabelle, yell at Siffrin, genuine anger and annoyance, some people will hold grudges. Say that this choice is stupid, try to find a way to avoid looping back. Usually at that point, I know I'm not exactly going to have the most fun watching them play.

I think some people trap themselves in the expectations of the medium. They're approaching it as a game first, and an expression of art or a story with people in it second. It genuinely surprises me sometimes when people treat characters as...characters, and not people. Do you not try to immerse yourself in the world and circumstances when you engage with media? Take it seriously? I see people try to justify these deaths. Most people aren't frustrated with the rock death, because they justify it as being a tutorial. At the same time, people who are already grumbling about having to go through Dormont again on loop 1... I'm not sure if this experience is for them. Considering on my completion file I ended far past loop 200... Acts 3 and 4 alone often have so much PURPOSEFUL looping, sometimes all the way back to Dormont.

People justify the softlock as a "tutorial" for the icon that shows when you cannot progress that loop...but at that point it had already been shown how tutorials were not made to be obtrusive. The fighting tutorial was centered around Mirabelle's own anxiety, an anxiety that progresses and grows throughout their journey through the house. The Bonnie taking down an enemy tutorial? That's not locked to any fight, it happens the first time that Bonnie has the chance to do so, it could happen anywhere! Adrienne could have easily coded it so that the first time the player was softlocked, the tutorial for that icon would play there. That's not the point of it. The point of it was to show how self-depricating Siffrin is, at that point in the game. How he puts so much of his self worth on his role as the trap disarmer and the key finder. How he blames himself for everything. How he sees himself as a failure. If you could just figure out where the key was if you tried really hard or something, you'd miss all of that. Almost everything in this game has a point and the point almost always is to show you more about the characters.

The game is meant to make you play through it countless times. It's meant to show you the experience of Siffrin, someone who has no choice but to go through it countless times. It's not for padding, it's not to be mean spirited or unfair or difficult, it's to give you an EXPERIENCE. When you want to fast forwards through text but you have a feeling that something might have changed and you stop just in time to see new dialogue, when you notice Siffrin's smile fading from act to act, when you make sure to pick up every souvenir from Dormont every time you loop JUST IN CASE you need to use it somewhere in the House, when you are so thrown off by the rock in the Death Corridor that you become paranoid and check every pillar afterwards just in case... and then you get the Memory of Pillars for your troubles.

When you check Loop's advice for quests you've already completed, just to see what they say about it, when you select text options that are already greyed out because you want and hope and desire there to be more to the conversation...maybe this time? When you do the friend quests again in Act 4 and you don't skip through them because you have a feeling Siffrin will be feeling differently now, and he does, and it's an entirely different experience this time. When you get the Bright Flower and you forget to give it to your party and then you go to talk to the king and see you can offer him the flower? When you bring the flower with you every loop after that just in case there's another person you can give it too and then you realize you can give it to the Head Housemaiden? That's what ISAT is about.

[bvidzsoo]

I'll go animal to keep you next to me

⭔ Stalker!Wooyoung ⭔ 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader

∞ Warning: stalking, mentions of murder and kidnaping ∞ Word count: 4.9k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, stalker!au, university!au, strangers to enemies!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Not having enough money to pay your monthly rent and also your college bills, you start working at a nice coffee shop. One day, a mysterious man with a little girl in his arms comes inside and orders an Iced Americano. Why is that after that day you find white roses in front of your front door each day? Who is giving them to you? And what does this mystery person want from you?

∞ A/N: Hii, lovelies! Last update for the week as I'm going on a mini-trip tomorrow ^^ Wooyoung's part looked a lot different in my mind initially, but the drabble turned out like this, I hope it's good! I might just turn my initial idea into a oneshot or smth lol. Most probably Hongjoong's part will be next when I sit down to continue this mini-series, so keep an eye out for that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

⭔  Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            How we perceive others is a peculiar and particular thing. How others perceive us is another thing we do not have power over. Sometimes, people can tell when somebody isn’t a good person, and sometimes, somebody manages to hide their dark side so well you wouldn’t even know until their mask slips and their true nature starts showing through the cracks. A good-hearted person will always try to see the good in everyone, in everything around them despite their friends' warnings about said somebody. A kind person will try and ignore all the red flags they seem to be getting from said somebody in favor of writing it off as paranoia. Because a handsome man with a sharp jawline and a Roman nose, high-pitched laughter that sounds like a witch's laughter, and is good with children cannot be a crazed man, right? He cannot hide his ugly nature underneath this perfect mask that seldom cracks, seldom.

I had met him in a coffee shop while I was on my shift, desperate for this part-time job to keep the bills paid as my parents paid for my university. It was a fair arrangement, I had been on board with the idea, but after they had to lay me down at my previous well-paying job, I was rather desperate and accepted almost any job to be able to pay this month’s rent. The coffee shop was in a relatively safe part of the city and was usually frequented by college students, so I had never truly felt unsafe. The bus station was right in front of it, so I didn’t even have to walk through dodgy alleyways to get home, or anything. Yet, somehow, when a man who looked like he was sculpted by a Greek God walked inside the coffee shop, my heart dropped and my arms got covered in goosebumps. It wasn’t even from his unnatural beauty; it was due to this very quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me that he was dangerous. But that voice must’ve been wrong because there was no way in hell a little girl would be clinging to his side and calling him uncle if that were the case. So, against my better judgment, I had ignored the warning voice, and instead, smiled widely as they arrived at the counter, our coffee shop’s welcoming speech rolling off my tongue like second nature.

Despite silencing the already quiet voice, I couldn’t shut down my body’s natural reactions to the man and I found myself having to force the smile to stay on my face, averting my eyes onto the young girl to try and remain genuine.

“I’d like an Iced Americano, Y/N.” Hearing him say my name made me blanch for a second, eyebrows furrowing as I wondered from where he had known my name until I remembered my nametag.

“Will that be all, sir?” I had asked with a polite smile as the little girl whined and pointed at the chocolate chip cookies we had in the fridge and the man, who looked barely a few years older than me, hummed and looked at me with his sharp eyes. They softened whenever he looked at the little girl and then grew harsh anytime he looked at me. His gaze was calculating and scrutinizing almost, full of wonder for a second before he was smiling dashingly, taking me off guard. I had seen many handsome men in my life before, but there was something almost ethereal to him. His dark hair fell around his face in untended curls making it look natural yet attractive. Something about his eyes made his gaze look almost lazy yet filled with sharpness, the mole right underneath his eye giving his already unusual face a charming glow.

“Two chocolate chip cookies, Y/N.” And there he was, saying my name again with a certain edge to it, and I gulped as I nervously typed in the rest of his order, telling him the total after I checked whether he needed anything else. The little girl had started singing as I got to brew his Iced Americano, and I could feel the man’s watchful eyes follow my every move as he muttered something to the little girl occasionally as he took her into his arms. I tried to calm my nervously beating heart, not quite understanding why I was having such a visceral reaction to the man. The warning voice I managed to silence in my mind was certainly gone, yet I couldn’t find it in myself not to flinch slightly away when I handed his drink over and our fingers touched accidentally. The man’s eyebrows had raised as a dangerous smirk painted his lips as he took the red straw between his teeth, waiting for me to bag the two chocolate chip cookies. Handing them over too, the little girl took one of the bags happily and pressed a sweet kiss against the man’s cheek, making him chuckle as he threw a glance at the cute girl. But then, the other bag was placed back onto the counter and slid towards me.

“For you, pretty girl.” My heart had halted as his pressing gaze bore into mine, making my cheeks flush as I stumbled through my words to thank him for his unnecessary kindness, “My name’s Wooyoung.”

And then he was gone with the little girl, the straw of his drink still between his teeth and pretty lips as he put on his shades, tickling the little girl’s side, making her giggle as she had dirtied her mouth with the chocolate from her cookie. After that first encounter, I had forgotten about Wooyoung rather quickly, with too many worries on my shoulders and too many new faces entering the coffee shop daily, making it hard to remember just one person, but perhaps it would’ve been smarter if I had remembered him. Wooyoung. White roses started showing up in front of my flat’s door every day after that warm day at the coffee shop, and I had no idea who they were from.

            The second time, based on my recollection, when I saw Wooyoung again—not that I could be sure of it—was on a random Friday night, months after having met him at the coffee shop, in an overcrowded club as I was celebrating my friend’s birthday with a large group of friends. Most of us have met at our university courses, some of us have known each other since highschool. I was relatively new to the group but they were nice and rather protective of me, I felt safe and appreciated with them. Not being a huge fan of clubbing and the sweaty crowd, I needed a few drinks in my system to make me loosen up, so, it was no surprise that I was tipsy not long after we arrived at the place. I couldn’t pre-game with them as I was on the afternoon shift at the coffee shop and had to lock up, but due to my low alcohol tolerance, it came as no problem catching up with their intoxicated states.

The music was loud and the flashing lights blinded me every few minutes, but I was enjoying myself. Arms high up in the air and hips swaying to the beat, I was surrounded by my friends who were screaming the lyrics to the songs that were played, and I finally felt free after ages. It was refreshing, relaxing, and most of all…I finally felt stress-free. I was enjoying myself, laughing and playing around as my friends and I played random dance challenges on the dance floor, roping in a few others as well as they seemed to be amused by our shenanigans. I felt eyes on me all night, a heavy and intense gaze, but I couldn’t pinpoint just one person. Perhaps it didn’t help that my vision was hazy from all of the alcohol I had consumed, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable. We were in a club, after all, everyone was looking at everyone, surveying the crowd and the people, probably looking for someone to hook up with for the night.

When my throat had started feeling parched and my stomach a little unsure, I pulled aside one of my friends and told her I needed a drink. She was eager to accompany me to the bar and I was even more eager to down a whole bottle of water in under a few seconds. My friend chuckled and asked for another one, knowing that I would need it, and she was right, the second bottle of water was gone in no time too, but this time I did share it with her as well. I wasn’t as thirsty as seconds before. But we weren’t satiated just yet, so, my friend asked for two rounds of some sour shots that I didn’t care to memorize the name of and once we had downed them, I was positive I would be throwing up in the morning with a head-splitting headache on the horizon. But that was tomorrow me’s problem, tonight was about having fun.

Just as my friend and I had decided to head back to the dance floor, the tall bartender came over with a pink and orange-looking cocktail, motioning for me to lean closer as his voice wasn’t audible over the loud music and even louder crowd. Apparently, the drink was from someone sitting down at the bar, and the bartender had said the man wanted me to know that a pretty girl like me deserves a sweet drink. Finding no harm in that, I thanked the bartender and tried to find the man, but upon being unsuccessful, I allowed my friend to lead the way back to our friend group as we shared my drink, which was definitely too sweet. Despite being curious of who the mystery man was that bought the drink for me was, I never came across him. Feeling those piercing eyes on me continued throughout the night, but I never quite seemed to make eye contact with anyone who could’ve been the culprit. I suppose it was meant to stay as a mystery. It also didn’t help that in a confusing flash of moment when someone crashed into me from behind and I turned to look at them, I had thought it was Wooyoung, from the coffee shop. But before I could actually make out his face, he was gone.

Underneath the blinding lights, as I was guided by my intoxicated mind, sometime along the night, I had felt arms sneak around my waist and then a broad chest pressing up against my back. I didn’t find it in me to complain and shake the man off, instead, I turned in his embrace and danced the night away by his side, vision too hazy to see his face clearly. But he was tall and he had muscles that could certainly crush my skull if put in a headlock, not that I thought he was dangerous or had evil motives, it was simply an observation that entered my fuzzy mind. But despite us enjoying each other’s company and even finding common ground in surprising subjects, after the man had excused himself to the restroom, he never returned. I was confused for a while until I realized he had probably found himself another company, and I couldn’t blame him or feel bad about it. We were here to have fun and if he found someone more suitable, that was alright. It’s not like I had found my soulmate in him.

What I didn’t expect, however, was to find another white rose in front of my door two days after clubbing with an added gift box to it. It was peculiar, it made me feel uneasy, but I’ve been receiving these roses for four months now, however, the gift was unusual. I still couldn’t figure out from who the roses were from, and despite my friends advice of reporting it to the police, I kept it to myself for now. What were they going to do? Probably send me back home after they tell me they can’t do anything about it, unless I was actually harmed, or this mystery person shows their face. Another shocking development to my day was switching on the TV as I wiped my kitchen clean, gasping and feeling faint for a second as despite my hazy memories I could recognize the face of the missing person they had shown in the news. Apparently, his name was Kim Mingyu, and he had been missing for exactly two days. It’s been exactly two days since we’ve been clubbing, and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure he didn’t return to me because he found somebody else to mingle with. As I went to phone my friend in a confused and worried frenzy, I realized the consistent eyes I had felt on me at the club had disappeared just as Mingyu had gone to the restroom.

I was scared to open the gift box, and when I did, my eyes widened and I panicked, scared to even touch the necklace that was so obviously Kim Mingyu’s. A letter with few words on it had been slipped inside it, underneath the necklace, and it read, ‘Pretty thing he was, unfortunate that he had to go so early on’. Instead of phoning my friend, I phoned the police.

            A month had passed and Kim Mingyu was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t known him for long, but it pained me that police could find no leads on him. I was ruled out as a suspect after I called and informed them of the box put in front of my door and they came to speak to me. The investigation was still ongoing, and I was asked to be very cautious as apparently whoever hurt him was the one probably sending me the roses. Rightfully so, I have grown paranoid and scared for my safety, often times I would only leave my apartment if one of my friends could accompany me. I still couldn’t give up my job, so most of the time I just sucked it up and put aside my fear, knowing that I was the safest I could be at the coffee shop with all the cameras in and outside, as well, watching and surveying everything. The roses never stopped showing up, and if at first I found them beautiful and kept them, now they lay in a pile in the trashcan, thrown out every day before I left for my classes. The grounds of the university were safe too. The only time I actually felt scared for my safety was when the crowd wasn’t big, or when I heard footsteps outside my flat. It could’ve only been my neighbors, but I still couldn’t know for sure.

Tonight, however, I finally gave in to my friends' naggings and went out to a barbeque with them. They were worried about me and I could understand them. They rarely saw me now, unless they would come over for the night or walk with me to my destinations. It was hard, I was trying to return to normal and ignore this weird paranoid feeling that I was constantly being watched, even inside my apartment. My gut had twisted before I left my flat, the quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me to stay out of my flat tonight, to just sleep over at my friend’s house, but I couldn’t do that. Her boyfriend was coming over and I didn’t want to be a burden. I already felt bad for always needing someone to be by my side, I didn’t want to inconvenience her even more. I was a big girl and I could take care of myself, it was just that stupid voice trying to scare me and nothing else. I was safe, besides, if whoever was sending me roses hadn’t approached me after five months of possible stalking, then I was alright, they certainly wouldn’t approach me now.

It was past eleven in the evening when I finally made my way home, belly full and tummy hurting from continuous laughter, body and mind at ease from having been with my friends who knew how to up-lift my spirits. I felt fine, serene even, and perhaps the fact that there wasn’t a rose in front of my door today only added onto feeling less worry. Perhaps this somebody had gotten bored of me, finally realized there was nothing special about me, or even fun. I unlocked my door and walked inside my small hallway, dropping my bag onto the floor as I stepped out of my shoes and wore my slippers, hanging my coat onto the hanger. I grabbed a hair tie from the small bowl on the shelf and tied my hair in a low bun, excited to shower and change into my pajamas and perhaps read a bit before going to bed. I had the morning shift tomorrow and I didn’t want to go to bed too late tonight. But as I started shuffling towards my bathroom, I froze in my steps as I realized there was light humming coming from the kitchen and the aroma of multiple foods combined in the air.

My muscles grew tense as I felt around my jeans for my phone, feeling dread when I realized I had left it in my bag, which was on the floor in the small hallway. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I started tiptoeing back to the hallway, but jumped and almost screamed when a body in the darkness rounded the corner, leaning against the wall. The person was now blocking my way towards the hallway and I gulped as my heart started racing, eyes narrowing as I tried to see through the darkness and recognize the person. Perhaps it was one of my friends’, it must be them. I has to be them.

“You’re home later than I expected.” I shuddered as I exhaled, the voice unfamiliar as my heart now beat even faster. So it wasn’t any of my friends. This wasn’t good.

���I—I was out with my—friends.” My voice sounded unsure, and I tried not to tremble too much as the person hummed nodding. I still couldn’t see their face; the blinds were drawn in the living room and I realized it wasn’t me who left them like that.

“You threw my roses away.” The voice sounded disappointed, accusing. I gulped, feeling a chill run down my spine as I eyed the exit. I needed to do something, I couldn’t just stand here and wait for something horrible to happen to me.

“There, uh, there were too many of them.” I whispered, fumbling with my hands as the person just hummed again then sighed loudly.

“Did you have fun at the barbeque, pretty girl?” I gasped quietly as he asked that question, making me shake as I realized he hadn’t only been sending me flowers, he was probably watching my every step. Had this person been inside my flat before? Were there cameras inside? I felt like crying, but I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep my composure.

“It was alright.”

“I cooked us dinner.” I bit my lower lip and flinched as the man pushed off the wall, approaching me very slowly as if he waiting to see if I would run away or not. I did think of running away, but I had no idea whether he was armed or not, whether he’d try to kill me or not if I flee. Not that I was safer staying put, my last dying hope was in talking my way out of this.

“I’m starving.” I lied through my teeth as the man chuckled, a low rumble, and then finally stopped just a few steps in front of me. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up in his eyes, searching his face to familiarize myself with his features in case I do make it to the police to report him, but I was taken aback when I realized he seemed somewhat familiar. A sharp jawline and a Roman nose, asymmetrical eyes and a sharp gaze, I had seen him before. Months ago, perhaps at the coffee shop. Perhaps he was the man with the little girl. I needed a second to remember his name as my eyes stopped on the mole underneath his eye.

“Wooyoung?” I whispered uncertainly, flinching away when he reached a hand out towards.

“I knew you’d remember me, pretty girl.” He whispered smirking, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he touched my hair despite me trying to cower away, “Look at you, you’re prettier than I remembered you were.”

I gulped and tried to take a deep breath as Wooyoung stepped closer, making me back away, but then he was gripping my arm painfully and I froze, heart beating out of my chest in fright.

“Don’t lie to me.” Suddenly his voice dropped octaves and I shuddered as his grip tightened, making me wince, “How can you be hungry when you’ve been to a barbeque?”

“I didn’t eat much; I didn’t have an appetite.” I was quick with my lie as I tried to smile at him, arms covered in goosebumps as he traced his fingers down my skin, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. The quiet voice in my mind was loud now and my gut was twisting painfully, making me wish I had listened to the warnings before it was too late. Could I escape this man? What should I do now?

“Is that so?” Wooyoung hummed, grabbing my hand in his as I nodded wordlessly, my body refusing to move when he pulled me after himself. His hand was cold, his fingers decorated by chunky rings, “Won’t you have dinner with me?”

“Ye-yes.” I stuttered and forced my legs to move after him, to follow him towards the kitchen just around the corner as I desperately glanced towards my small hallway, wishing that I had some telekinesis powers to make my phone come to me.

“And how was your day, pretty girl?” Wooyoung’s voice was warm and pleasant as he led me inside the kitchen, making my mouth fall open in shock at the sight. The table was set beautifully with candles in the middle and a huge bouquet of white roses in a vase that wasn’t mine. Wooyoung walked me to the chair that was furthest from the door and pulled it out for me, smiling cheekily as I gulped and remained standing. He said nothing as our eyes met again under the candlelight and I was losing the battle of trying to stay calm as my muscles started contracting, my heart beating too fast. I felt trapped in my own flat, threatened and unsafe with a man that broke in and had been stalking me for almost half a year now.

“It was—what do you want?!” I snapped, finally losing my cool as Wooyoung just chuckled, leaning his hip against the chair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, if I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so a long time ago, pretty girl—”

“Stop calling me pretty girl!” My voice was shaky as I snapped, eyeing the table as I lunched for a knife before he could stop me. I held it in front of myself as I felt panic finally overtake my body and mind, making my hands shake uncontrollably and chest rise and fall rapidly.

“But you are a very pretty girl, Y/N.” Wooyoung pouted, looking down at the butter knife in my hand with an amused expression, “Since you seem scared, I’ll be honest with you. I want…you.”

I gulped as my eyebrows furrowed, growing more confused and scared by the minute. Wooyoung didn’t say anything else just stood up straight and stalked towards me with a confident stride, lips pulling into a menacing smirk again. I raised the knife as my hand shook, and lurched forward with zero intent of actually stabbing him, perhaps I hoped it would intimidate him. But before I could blink, he gripped my wrist harshly and twisted it until I dropped the knife with a pained cry, face scrunching up in pain as I was whirled around and immobilized by Wooyoung’s arms as he pulled me against his body, his warm lips pressing against my ear as his hot puffs of breath made me shiver. I was breathing loudly as Wooyoung hummed quietly, the hand that was still holding my wrist loosened slightly as his fingers started caressing my skin. It made my stomach churn as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wasn’t working too well.

“Let go of me.” I tried to demand, but it came out as a helpless whisper and I felt Wooyoung’s lips press against my temple, making me flinch as I tried to trash around, but despite his lanky form he was strong. Way too strong, and I realized I had no chance of escaping unless he allowed me to.

“But if I let go of you, you will run, Y/N, and I can’t have that happening.” Wooyoung muttered and then sighed as if this was inconvenient to him, “I don’t want to watch you from the shadows anymore, I’ve done that enough. It’s time we get to know each other like normal people—”

“There’s nothing normal about this situation right now, Wooyoung.” I cut him off with a snare, trying to yank myself free again, “You’ve been stalking me for months.”

“Indeed,” Wooyoung confirmed and I felt like throwing up, “but that was because I had some pretty bad business to take care of first. If people would’ve seen us together they would have targeted you, and I can’t have that happening.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked in a whisper and stumbled forward as Wooyoung suddenly released me as I tugged against his arms again. I ran into a chair and caught myself just seconds before falling over. I eyed the exit as Wooyoung cleared his throat behind me.

“I have many enemies, Y/N.” Wooyoung spoke up with a casualty to his voice, and I glanced back and watched as he popped a grape in his mouth, giving me a questioning look, “Can’t have you kidnapped and tortured.”

That was all I needed to hear as I bolted towards the front door and tried to grab my bag too in the process, but realized I didn’t have time if I wanted to free myself. But as I threw the door open, I was met with two huge men blocking the doorway. They were dressed in black suits and had sunglasses on despite being inside. I gasped as they didn’t even look at me and whirled around as Wooyoung came walking to the hallway with a tsk rolling off his tongue.

“You’re making this more dramatic than it’s supposed to be, pretty girl.” I tried to scurry away from him but he marched up in my face in no time and grabbed the back of my head as I tried to fight him off, but as his eyes hardened, I knew it would be best to just obey him and stop fighting, “I like you and if you don’t stop trying to run away I will take you away with me by force, Y/N. I’m giving you two choices. One, you shut up about this and don’t go to the police, you let me take you out and we’ll see how our relationship develops from there on. Two, I knock you out right now and take you back to my highly guarded and isolated mansion and you’ll never see your loved ones or anyone you knew before. Which one will you choose?”

I was shaking as I tried to gulp, but my throat was dry and my eyes shook as they filled with tears as I clawed at his arm holding my head, “First option, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Good girl.” Wooyoung grinned as he bit his lower lip, eyes taking in my face as he leaned close until our foreheads pressed together, “I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I saw you cross the road and walk up to the coffee shop, ready to start your shift, Y/N.”

My heart stopped as a tear rolled down my cheek, “You’re insane.”

“I’m just a man bewitched by you.” Wooyoung retorted with a cackle and I yanked myself away as he released me and gave me a scrutinizing stare, “You don’t have to eat dinner, I know you’re full, but I’ll be back in the morning to take you out for breakfast. Now get some rest.”

I scowled when his lips touched my cheek and Wooyoung just chuckled and walked around me towards the bodyguards who stepped aside and made way for their boss. I turned to watch him with a frown, mind torn between what I should do next. But the wink he sent me before he closed the door and I heard his footsteps fade into the background, I knew Wooyoung wasn’t to be messed with. He really would kidnap me if I didn’t do as he wished. Just who is he and will I ever get away from him? What had I done to earn his attention? I fell to the ground as the tears finally fell free, wrecking my body painfully as I sobbed.

If I ran away, would he find me?

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[personasintro]

Employed 01 | jjk

⏤𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴; Being independent while living the harsh reality of adulthood is sparked by arrogance in the form of the most infuriating man you've ever met.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: ceo!jungkook x reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: explicit language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 16.4k+

banner by: @archivedkookie // thank you so much again for making this for me! ♡

index (to be added)

El: I think I'm drunk again

"think or know?"

El: know then

El: turns out I didn't have sex yesterday 

El: god I already masturbated twice today!!!

You could survive without that information, a snicker leaving your mouth at your best friend's messages. She had a date yesterday. Well, you're not sure if it was officially a date or she just hung out with one of her co-workers she's been flirting with for weeks now. 

Elaine broke up with her then boyfriend recently. This co-worker of hers has caught her eyes even when she was in a relationship (with a total douchebag). Not mentioning he's still in a relationship with his girlfriend. They're not on good terms either but still. It's complicated and who are you to judge?

"make it three then" 

El: it's not helping :/

"because he's all you're thinking about"

That one is true. He's been a topic number one in any of your conversations.

El: that's true lol

El: but I'm kinda scared to get involved with someone from my work

"I'm not surprised, it usually is like that"

"but look, you're never gonna find out if you don't try it"

While you're trying to be as supportive as a best friend can be, you do have your own opinion about her little shenanigans. But in the end, you do want her to be happy and not be depressed because of her two failed relationships from before. This guy at least seems to be treating her right and he's a proper gentleman. Not a red flag which cannot be said about the previous two ones. 

El: so you think I should give it a chance?

Jumping from one relationship to another is... you're not sure what to think of it. Everyone's different and you try to keep being open-minded. If he makes her happy and she wants to try it, why not? 

You know you would be more wary, especially after a heartbreak. You would focus on yourself first, recharge and regain self-love or whatever people do after a break-up. 

Before you can type your reply, another message pops up.

El: because he treats me right and everything's perfect... I'm just scared of that one fact of working together

"well working with friends or family never does any good, the same goes for relationships"

That's a fact. In most cases it's the worst anyone can do. 

"but try it if you feel like that's the right thing"

You're not one of those friends who give false hope. You're honest, try to be without getting too honest which could potentially hurt someone. Elaine is a wonderful woman. You've known her for years and have been best friends just as long. It's unfortunate the majority of your communication is done through messages and occasional video calls. Ever since you moved out of the country, you've been away from everyone. 

However, you knew what you would lose in order to pursue a different life you always wanted.

El: what about you tho? have you found yourself a job yet?

The question you've found unpleasant back home – and you still do. 

"no :("

El: don't worry! you just got there

El: I'm sure you'll find one soon x

Sighing, you wish Elaine's words would come true. Preferably very soon.

You send her a quick thank you with a heart emoji before someone slides onto the opposite seat. Met with a wide grin and crinkled eyes at the ends, your before neutral expression turns into a surprise and happiness. You didn't hear him coming!

"Hobi!" you greet him after not seeing his face for a few days.

He's been your friend for quite some time now. Actually, it's safe to say he's been a huge help ever since you decided to move here. It lasts until now and without his help, you're not sure if you would've ever had the guts to leave the comfort of familiarity of your country.

"Hey," he greets, laughing a little as the air becomes more cheerful. Or maybe it's only you and the fact he's no stranger to you. 

Having prying eyes on you almost all the time is still a little uncomfortable. As if they knew you're a foreigner right out of the bat.

Hoseok chose to meet up at his favorite place. He's a little late, but you don't have the heart to scold him for it. You know it's only your anxiety of having to be here alone, feeling strangers' eyes on you. Luckily, you did the typical trick. Staring into your phone, minding your business and trying to act unbothered. 

"Have you ordered anything yet?"

"Ah, no," you shake your head, "Was waiting for you."

You had to tell the older lady to give you more time since your friend should be arriving anytime soon. 

"Sorry for running late, traffic here is no joke." he apologizes, shrugging his overshirt as he hangs it over the bag of his stool.

"It's fine." you tell him, catching his amused expression which causes you to purse your lips. 

"No scolding?"

"I was about to but I changed my mind."

"Of course you were." he laughs.

Before another word can be uttered and a fit of giggles surround the round table, what you assume is the owner – the same lady that asked you for your order earlier – comes back with the same kind smile. Hoseok says both your orders, already knowing your usual choice since you're here the third time already. Like you said, it's his favorite place to eat. Korean barbecue is definitely worth every penny. 

"I didn't wanna tell you on the phone but–" He giggles when he notices your wary look. "You haven't found a job yet, right?" He makes sure.

For some reason, your cheeks heat up in guilt. Guilt from not being able to find out despite living here for two weeks. Okay, it might not be a long time but the whole process of finding a job is way harder. You've been through something similar back in home. Having to experience this all over again feels very saddening. You would lie if you told you haven't had any expectations. Of course, you know it's not going to be easy but still. You hoped it would be easier.

You're a little fucked up from the situation back home. The months you waited to get a job and then lose it in the span of one month. Wasn't your fault, but it still hurts though. 

Shortly said, you just can't allow yourself to experience that again. 

"No." you mumble, placing your elbow on the table as you prop your chin on your palm. 

"Perfect," he says, met with a raised brow from you. "I have a friend."

"Oh god."

"No, listen to me," he presses. 

Hoseok has a lot of friends. Different types of friends. While you haven't been able to meet most of them (which you're sure is not even possible since he's got a lot of them), you've heard of them. 

"He owns a company. A very prestigious one," 

That has your eyes widening.

"He's been looking for an assistant, told me about it when we went out for a whiskey."

"Since when do you drink whiskey?"

"Not the point," he grits, "Anyway, he just mentioned it very briefly but then an idea sparked when I was home. How did I not think of it sooner? Right, like–"

"Hobi." You motion for him to shorten it and to get to the fucking point. 

"Right," he laughs, "So–you should work for him."

You blink and stare, breathing out a chuckle. "Just like that?"

"Well, no." he frowns a little, "You should probably go to the interview–but honestly, you have nothing to be scared of."

"But assistant? What are the requirements? What about–"

"He's gonna tell you everything. We don't talk about work much and he only briefly mentioned looking for an assistant. But you're great and skillful. What else do you need to be an assistant?"

"I don't think it's that easy, Hobi. Especially if it's some big company like you said."

Hoseok leans back, shrugging. "He's my friend. He's gonna take you in." he promises and waves his hand, sending you a little assurement along with a wide supportive smile. 

You're not sure you're assured at all. But you have nothing to lose. You told Elaine to try it because else she wouldn't know. Even though this is not about a relationship at all, there's some similarity to the situation. 

And you're going to listen to your own advice.

Hoseok wasn't lying when he said about his friend's company. That alone made your stomach shrink with unease and the only thing that calmed you was the reminder of their friendship. Regardless of this successful friend of his and what he said about his business, you expected a decent and nice building. 

Not a freaking tallest and biggest building on a street full of companies. 

Holy shit. 

That's your first reaction you luckily keep to yourself while you stare at the tall building. Oh god. You're ten seconds from running away like a coward but you can't. You simply can't let a stupid stress affect you. This is a great opportunity for you. 

Plus, not to mention the lengths Hoseok went through to get you a chance to have an interview here. He talked to his friend because of you, purely because of that you can't disappoint him as well. 

Staring at the building, it screams of wealth even from its exterior. Is it stupid to say it kind of looks a little intimidating? Sure, your nerves could play a role in this as well. It looks like the entire building is covered in glass, in one you can't see through from the outside. Plus it looks super clean. 

Do they get it cleaned often? You laugh at your thoughts, releasing a breath you've been holding before you finally start walking toward the entrance. 

The only info Hoseok gave you was time and date. He told you there's nothing to worry about and you'll find your way around. Despite the lack of information, he tried to assure you. But walking up the stairs, you mentally curse at your friend. He might've done that because he didn't want you all stressed out, but it has a complete opposite effect.

So you remind yourself of his words of assurement and just go for it. 

The tall and huge door is automatic. Of course it is. It opens as soon as you're close enough, fast enough so you don't have to halt your steps which happens often with automatic doors. 

Scent of freshness and (novelty?) hits you pleasantly as soon as you're inside. It's everything you see in big movies. A lot of space, minimalistic but pretty interior. Everything is modern and even people working here are dressed elegantly, in dark blue color that is matched with white. 

"Miss? Where are you going?"

Almost jumping at the sudden presence beside you, you see a bulky man with a security tag attached to his elegant shirt. Even security has elegant attire? Holy fuck, Hoseok, where did you send me?

You're impressed, almost too impressed but that only sparks your stress even more. 

Especially when you see the man patiently waiting for your response. 

"Umm," Great. "I've got a job interview here?"

He scans you as if he's searching for any hints of lying. What is this? A fucking pentagon? 

"They'll give you directions at the reception desk. Please, continue past the detector." he says professionally, pointing at the detector system you've only seen at airports.

"Thank you." You try to send him a polite smile, your legs suddenly feeling a little wobbly in those heels. 

You chose an elegant outfit, a nice soft pink set with a touch of a few decent silver accessories. It's not too much but it screams of elegance which suits their theme. You paid extra attention to your make-up and hair, putting all your effort and not only because it distracted you today. 

The reception desk is at the very end, not hard to miss as a huge logo of the company is lit up and attached to the marble wall. There is a young woman aware of your presence immediately, welcoming you there before asking what you are looking for. If they're surprised to see you here, they don't show it as much. 

After explaining you're here for the job interview, she asks for your name and after she checks your information, she gives you directions to get there. There are a lot of employers, busy doing their job as some of them wait for an elevator. There are three of them! 

Other than that, nobody really pays you any attention as a silent chatter involving business resounds inside the elevator. Some of them get out sooner, some of them wait until it's their turn.

Number twelve lits up as a robotic voice informs you of the floor you situate. You get out, not quite sure where else to go as you look left and right. A little confused, the young receptionist hasn't offered any further information beside getting out on floor twelve. That's until you see a group of young females gathered on the left side of the building. Getting a feeling this is it, you walk toward them.

There is another receptionist desk, a few chairs and leather sofa in the hallway as all of them seem to be waiting. This is it.

"Welcome, miss. Are you here for the interview?" Someone asks, catching your attention as you notice another receptionist with the same attire like the one that greeted you earlier. 

This one has short hair, perfectly straightened and styled.

"Oh, hello. Yes I am." you respond lightly as she nods.

"Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you a glass of water?" she asks after she points toward the group of women that are waiting. 

"No, thank you." you smile, luckily finding yourself a free spot where you can sit down. 

It's interesting to see different types of interested parties. You notice how each of them are women and you wonder if that was a requirement or it's because of something else. 

Either way, they're all dressed perfectly and definitely put their best effort. Again, Hoseok said this is a good and big company, so it makes sense everyone probably wants to work here. It's not like you don't feel like you don't fit it, even though it's stupid and they most likely want this job just as much as you do. However, some of them look confident and determined to even be here. They came prepared. 

You purely judge it by their confidence that oozes out of them, without them having to talk at all. 

And then there's a few of them that look nervous, even though they try their best to hide it and match other's energy. 

As much as there's Hoseok enthusiasm about his friend giving you the job, nothing's sure and the huge queue just proves it.

You definitely feel like you could relate more to the latter. You're a little nervous and everyone's eyes are on the door when it gets open, another woman getting out of there. She greets the receptionist before walking away with confident steps, her heels clacking against the marble floor.

You gulp, curling your toes in your heels.

You sit there and wait. Not going to lie, you think about pulling out your phone and at least entertaining yourself with the device until it's your turn. However, no one seems to be doing that and you definitely don't want to give an impression that you don't want to be here. You can't be sure.

There are eyes everywhere, including cameras that you've noticed are in every corner. They don't miss anything. Every fuck up there possibly could be, they're going to see.

But it does make sense. They need to be protected.

One thing about you is that you don't like waiting. You can be patient but after a while you get bored. You've watched your surroundings for the past forty minutes – what else is there to do? 

Your boredom is bound to end eventually and when your name is called, you spring onto your feet. They must've sent your information to the receptionist on this floor, since she never asked for your name. But that's the least of your worries when you finally walk toward the other room. Too focused on not stumbling and doing something embarrassing, you focus on your steps until you get inside the room where everyone has been walking out of. 

It's huge.

This is no meeting room or room designed for job interviews. This is an office. A huge one with a freaking seating area. Your mouth is agape as you notice a similar design the whole building has. The only difference is the view over the entire city and little coziness this office has. It's slightly more personal without having any personal pictures or anything – at least that's what you've quickly caught onto. 

It's hard to navigate around the room, you're not sure where to go. 

"Are you going to come in or not?"

A deep voice resounds around the corner making your eyes widen and stomach shrink. Embarrassed of being called out at checking this place out and clearly not moving, you clear your throat and reach the corner.

A man. 

He stands behind a desk, eyes focused down as his fingers briefly touch the stack of paper spreaded on the dark oak desk.

Before you can utter a single word, politely greet whoever this man is, he speaks again.

"Are you mute?"

What the–

"No?" you almost scoff, frowning a little which causes him to finally lift his gaze up.

He stares you up and down, scoffing silently under his breath. His dark eyes are one of the first things you notice on him. Even from a distance, you can make out the dominance in them. He's tall and has broad shoulders which are definitely more defined in the white button-up. The black suit hugs his form perfectly, like it's been designed for him.

You're not stupid. This man is important. And young. He's too young to be the CEO. Don't they have someone on their team to do the job interviews anyway? Whoever he is, he's clearly confident and full of himself. Perhaps you're mistaken but well...

He cocks his brow at you, eyes motioning at the two chairs in front of his desk. He's telling you to get there and sit down. 

You listen, despite your eyes attached to his form as he no longer watches you. He sits down, making himself comfortable as he peeks into the papers. Your full name comes out of his mouth, reading it aloud as the question sits in the air for a moment.

"Yes, that's me." you jump in to answer, not wanting to make this any more awkward.

You're still slightly perplexed by the not so pleasant start. Suddenly, you understand why most of the women out there were nervous. 

While you sit down and have him right in front of you just a few feet away, you try not to stare too much. He is young. He could potentially be Hoseok's friend. 

"Have you brought any documents with you? CV? Documents of your skills and diplomas? Anything?"

Gulping, you nod before you pull out your finished CV that Hoseok has helped you with. 

He takes it from you, flipping through the pages as he stays quiet. His face is hard to read. A frown clouds most of his features and he looks stern. Too stern for such a young male.

He briefly glances at you, while you play with your nails out of his eyesight. God. What was that look for? You know you're not overly qualified and you haven't graduated from a prestigious school. Your hope of getting this job is slowly dying down as he remains quiet before he tosses the papers onto his desk.

He leans back, glancing somewhere above your head as he sighs. "Why do you think you're suitable for this position?"

Okay, you got this. Fuck, you hate this question. You need money, clearly.

"You know, most people don't even get a chance to get to the job interview stage. Not people with your CV and education history."

"Pardon?" Your response is immediate. With an edge to your tone.

However, he is unfazed. 

"Why are you here, Miss–" He stops before glancing at the papers again before saying your surname. 

This dude is fucking–

Forget he's the hottest piece of man you've ever seen. You can tell right out of bat he's arrogant, a little too arrogant. You know he probably has different types of people coming into his office, you're aware your education record isn't something mind-blowing... but he can still be polite and not so rude.

And before your attitude can come to the surface, you remind yourself why you're here.

You need this.

This is your chance.

You've been staying in your AirBnB ever since you came here. Since you have no job yet, you can't exactly rent any place. So you're paying for the apartment that's your temporary home with your saved up money. You need to find a job and then a place to live in as soon as possible. 

"My friend told me about this job. He knows the CEO. Maybe you could ask him, he probably knows of me."

He knows the CEO? Really, Y/N? You stupid–It makes you sound as if you're completely relying on your friend knowing the CEO. Which is not entirely true. Still, you chose your words diplomatically and maybe this man could change his attitude since you're coming from – is it an inner circle? – or in the worst case, he's–

"I'm the CEO."

Of course he is. 

Fuck. 

Isn't he too young to be running this place? 

"Oh," you mutter, "Well, Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and–"

"And you think just because you know my friend you're suitable for this position?"

"No!" you exclaim, maybe too loudly which has you shut your mouth immediately as a frown makes it onto your face. 

Minus the fact he called Hoseok his friend, when he's your friend too, he sounds almost amused and definitely rude. 

"I had people graduating from Harvard coming in here before you."

Congratulations, you mentally snark.

What does he want you to say? 

I'm sorry I wasn't rich and smart enough to graduate from Harvard? 

"All I meant was that Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and that I should try it," 

You completely miss out the part where Hoseok was entirely confident he's going to give you the job. From the looks of it, he's far from it. 

"I may not have the greatest experience in this field, or I haven't had the luck to have an outstanding education record, but I'm hard-working and I learn fast."

"Hard-working and learning fast is not enough." he informs you.

"What else is there to do to be an assistant?" you ask, your mouth shutting up once again when you see the look he gives you. Wow, he has a very intense glare. "I mean–what does it require?"

"A lot of things. Executive assistant does not only perform administrative tasks, but there's a lot of research and tasks beside it. Not to mention I need someone I can rely on whenever."

"I'm a reliable person."

"Hoseok's word is not enough." he grits through his teeth.

You frown again, starting to get pissed off at his attitude. "I can prove it to you."

"Why should I give you a chance?"

"So I can prove it to you?" you deadpan, his glare dropping as he scoffs.

"You're awful at answering questions." he notes, mumbling under his breath almost as if it's not aimed for your ears.

But you hear him regardless, pressing your lips together as you straighten yourself. 

There's silence that follows. It lasts long, almost too long so you consider walking out of here. His phone vibrates as he reaches toward the device and sighs eventually. 

He puts his phone to his ear, answering with a dry Yes.

He listens for a moment. Frowning as he leans against his chair and looks at the ceiling.

"Yes, she's here."

Hoseok.

He's calling him. 

That has your attention as the young male whose name remains unknown for now glances back at you. With the same stoic expression, of course.

"Ho–"

He sighs, pinches his brow. He's listening, rolling his eyes here and there while you find it amusing. Though you don't dare to smile or even give him some sort of reaction that he might see.

"You owe me." he grits before ending the call. 

He tosses the phone back where it was, not looking pleased at all.

"I'm doing this because Hoseok is my friend."

You stare, ignoring the way your chest clenches with sadness for some reason. Or maybe it's a disappointment and embarrassment. 

"You have five working days to show me your potential. If you mess up, you're out of here."

While your not old self would tell him (very happily) fuck you, you know this is your chance to prove more things and not just to others, but to yourself as well. Even having this company's name in your CV is going to be a major help. 

"Thank you." you tell him instead, standing up as he snatches your documents off his desk and hands it to you.

You snatch it back, offering him a tight smile when he glares at the obvious attitude. 

"Here's the contract. Read it, do not sign it yet. Just an idea of what's awaiting for you." he explains, standing up. 

You feel like nothing can prepare you for what's awaiting for you. 

"I'll make sure you're not going to regret it. I mean it–I know I'm not the perfect candidate to work in your company, but I'll prove to you with my hard work that I could be. And not only because of Hoseok."

He stays silent, simply watching you. Not looking sold at all. 

But you nudge your ego away and accept the challenge this man might be. 

"Thank you again, Mr..."

His jaw clenches. 

"Jeon."

The familiar beeping he has grown used to and is a part of his everyday life, rings around his silent office. It rips his attention off the papers in front of him. With a single click, he accepts the call from the front desk on this floor.

"Mr. Jeon, I'm sorry to disturb you but you've got a visitor." The feminine voice that is somehow a part of his everyday life as well resounds. 

Brows pinching together, he stares at the phone with a slightly irritated look. Everyone knows they should not disturb him when he's in the middle of reviewing potential deals. He likes to stay focused. And even Soyeon's automatic apology did nothing.

"I don't have any visits scheduled." he responds, unimpressed and indeed bothered by the interruption. 

The young woman that has been working for him almost since the very beginning keeps herself composed, not showing how intimidated she is by him. 

"I'm aware, sir. But he's saying he's your friend?"

"My friend?" he deadpans. 

There's only one person who could come unannounced, enough to disturb him from–

"Jung Hoseok?" she asks unsurely.

Of course it's Jung Hoseok. 

No one barely comes here for visits. Everyone – and by that he means everyone that knows him personally or professionally – knows he doesn't appreciate visits. Not before his lunch and not even after. He's here to work. 

A sigh makes it past his lips as he scratches his eyebrow. "Send him in."

Despite the lack of visits he barely gets – just because he doesn't want them – he still made sure people that know him are on the list. In case there is some kind of emergency and for some reason can't be contacted. You never know. He takes precautions. 

Jung Hoseok is one of those people on the list. 

But the difference is no one really abuses that kind of privilege that gets him through security. Basically gives him a free pass around the building. 

"I get it from here, sweetheart. Thank you. He's my friend." He hears from behind the door, a chuckle of disbelief makes it out of his lips before his office door is open.

His receptionist stutters over her words but before she can make a proper sentence, his not by much older friend closes the door with a thud. Arms outstretched and wide grin, he stares at him unimpressed. 

"Surprise!" Hoseok chimes, striding toward his desk as if he owns this place.

Even with his presence here, Hoseok doesn't come here often. In fact, he can't remember when was the last time his friend visited him here. But out of people coming here unannounced, Hoseok makes the most sense. 

It can be seen he's not here often, momentarily ripping his gaze off the frowning and intimidating CEO to admire the spacious office. 

"Indeed," he mutters.

"Oh, come on. At least look like you're happy to see me!"

"Why pretend?" he simply asks, the older pursing his lips as he rolls his eyes. "Is there a reason for your... surprising visit?"

"Of course there is," he confirms, slouching himself in one of the chairs. He sighs in content, a look of surprise at how comfortable that chair is. "Alright, I'm sorry for popping in just like that–but I was around and since you barely answer my calls–"

"I'm busy."

"I know you're, Mr. CEO."

He rolls his eyes at Hoseok.

"So I came to you."

"Why? We saw each other last week."

"I'm gonna ignore that comment," he remarks, causing the younger one to shrug. "Anyway. I thought this would be better to discuss in person."

He sighs, leaning against his chair. "Just spit it out. I'm really busy."

"Okay," he says, propping his ankle against his knee as he shakes his foot. A habit of his friend that he noticed a long time ago. "When we were hanging out, you mentioned something about being in need of an assistant."

"What? You wanna be my assistant?" he jokes, amused by the idea. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and almost flips him off. But then he remembers his visit here has a purpose. He would rather not risk anything. 

"No, Jungkook. I do not want to be your assistant," he emphasizes, causing his lips to curl into an amused grin. "But I know someone that might wanna."

"Hoseok," Jungkook sighs, "I don't want any of your–whoever that might be–in my company."

"What does that mean?" he gasps.

"Your choice of friends or people you know are... questionable."

"Okay, that's actually very rude!" 

Jungkook shrugs. "It's true."

"How did you know I'm talking about my friend?"

"I didn't, I just called them that to keep it respectful."

"It's not one of my hook-ups!"

"Spit it out. I don't have time for this nonsense." Jungkook sighs, staring at the ceiling. Hoseok is really testing his patience. He's hungry and with a lot of work in front of him.

"My friend moved here recently and has been searching for a job. I thought you could give her a chance, I can totally vouch for her."

Jungkook blinks at the ceiling, staring down at his friend without having to move. "What this friend of yours accomplished?"

Hoseok's eyes widen and he almost stutters. "What do you–"

"Her skills? Education?"

Hoseok is the one who just blinks as Jungkook sits up straight with again, unimpressed look. "I'm not employing just anyone here, Hoseok. This is a successful company for a reason."

"Well–I don't know about any of that but I know she's hard-working and–"

"You don't know and you're here asking me to give her a job?"

"I'm asking you to give her a chance." Hoseok corrects.

"Hoseok, you're my friend–I...I don't hate you–" Hoseok glares at him. "But no."

"Jungkook!" he whines.

"I don't know this person and from the looks of it, you don't know either."

"Just because I don't know her entire resume doesn't mean she's a stranger. Just FYI–" He frowns, "But please. Just give her a chance. I need your help."

Jungkook lifts a brow. 

"You know I never ask you for anything."

That one's true. 

Whatever power Jungkook has in his young age – the age of twenty-eight – Hoseok has never asked him for anything. Let alone use him. He's the most valuable friend he has. Not that he would ever say it out loud. Not in usual situations anyway. Hoseok is aware of that.

"She's been trying to get a job ever since she came here. She lives in–"

"I don't care," he interrupts, scratching his forehead as he tries to soothe the wrinkles there that are caused by frowning. "She probably can't find a job because she's just not... good."

"That's not true," Hoseok quickly jumps to remark. "You know how hard it is to find a job nowadays."

It's silent for a few moments.

"Please."

"Don't." Jungkook stops him, closing his eyes.

"Just give her a chance."

He already curses himself mentally for this. Perhaps he feels a little embarrassed for Hoseok.

"Fine."

He cringes when he hears a loud squeal of excitement.

"Just one interview. That's all I can promise you." he informs him firmly.

"Thank you!" Hoseok sits up straight, his sneakers thumping against the floor. 

"Now go, I've got to work."

He doesn't argue, right on his feet as he can't stop grinning at the annoyed man. 

"Soyeon will give you further information." he mumbles under his breath.

"Great! Well, I would ask anyway."

Of course he would. 

"Don't forget to eat."

"Okay, get out now." Jungkook mumbles quickly, ignoring the teasing smirk from his friend as he strides out of his office confidently.

Hoseok is at your place. If that can be called that.

You're only sure of that because one of the lights stopped working, the bulb burned out. Rather than having to deal with any additional expenses, because you're never too sure and it's better to be safe than sorry, you asked Hoseok if he could come today and change it.

Plus, you need someone to help you with the stress you know your job interview would bring you. And you were goddamn right.

However, that's not the only thing you're bringing with yourself.

Since you gave Hoseok the second card and code to your temporary home, you knew he would be there already. You told him to wait up for you, way before you had the opportunity to meet his friend.

That man can't be anyone's friend. You doubt it.

The moment you get your shoes off and meet Hoseok's sheepish grin, he has no time to react as you reach for one of the cushions and start hitting him repeatedly. He squeals as if his life depends on it, though no real damage is done as your frustration takes over.

"That. Was. Fucking. Awful!" You say with each hit, finally getting the cushion snatched from you as he tosses it back onto the couch behind you.

"What happened?"

Glaring at him, you see it in his eyes. The hidden glints of knowing, even the tiniest tint of apology. 

"Why didn't you tell me he's fucking arrogant and rude?"

His cheeks heaten up as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "He can be rough around the edges, but he's not that bad."

"No!" you yell, "He's even worse!"

"Okay, let's sit down and talk." he tries, giggling nervously as he leads you to sit down.

You do, huffing out as you cross your arms over your chest. The feeling of embarrassment and close to humiliation keeps coming back every time you think about the entire moment you spent in that building. You've never felt more like shit before. He made you question your abilities and skills, judged you by your resume within seconds. He made you feel like you're nothing.

Not mentioning he's not interested in hiring you at all. He made sure to let you know that. 

"Y/N, come on..." Hoseok speaks after a moment, softly and sorry just as he looks.

"Why didn't you tell me? I came there and–" You don't bring yourself to say how hopeful you were when coming there, despite being nervous. "You promised me it's going to be okay." you add way quieter, embarrassed to admit it out loud. 

It sounds childish but Hoseok was the one who sparked hope and confidence in you. He assured you everything is going to work out. Of course you knew it couldn't be all true. There is always a space for failure or something not going according to plan, but this? This is your worst experience in months. Definitely takes the cake for the worst experience here in Seoul. 

"I'm sorry," You hear, his features softening as he squeezes your forearm. "I knew if i told you how he can be, you wouldn't go there. I didn't want you to miss this opportunity."

"What opportunity?" you scoff. 

While you realize he wanted to help, what's the purpose of it if his friend isn't exactly one that wants to help?

"He made me feel stupid."

"No," Hoseok argues, earning a glare from you. He wasn't even there! How can he argue about that? "He's just very selective with his staff."

"Oh, trust me, I figured. I mean, he wasn't exactly secretive about that."

Hoseok nervously laughs and rubs your arms. "But besides that, how did it go?"

"I–" you stop, thinking for a moment. "I don't know if it was me or you, but somehow I convinced him to let me prove myself."

"Y/N, that's amazing!" Hoseok yells excitedly, receiving a pointed look from you.

"I mean... it's worth a shot," you mutter, "But I feel like I'm gonna get fired before stepping in there."

"Listen to me," Hoseok says, scooting closer. Straightening himself, he makes sure you see his persistent features and the seriousness behind them. "You're gonna rock it there. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Jungkook can be difficult and I can't promise he's going to be all sweet, but if you'll do your job well then everything's gonna be fine. Trust yourself."

"Hobi, I trusted myself and coming back from there, I feel like utter shit."

"Come on now..."

"No, you didn't see how he looked at me. He told me people that graduated from Harvard come there looking for a job. Do you get it? Harvard. Or a fucking Yale!"

"Yeah..." he mumbles, "I told you he's successful. So is his company."

"No shit."

Hoseok chuckles, "That doesn't change the fact that you're good. You'll get better."

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel panic arising at the thought of going back there. You don't have a choice though. You can't live here for any longer and you need a job desperately. 

"You're the only one that thinks this. And sorry, but that's not enough."

What you mean is that it won't affect his friend's decision in any way. Hoseok is no help at the moment. He got you the job interview which of course has helped, and you will let him know that as soon as your panic fades away a bit. But from now on, it's just you. 

You'll need to prove yourself.

To wipe that arrogant look from Jeon's face.

You were up for a challenge, but this one seems to be the biggest yet. 

Hoseok laughs at your words, knowing very well what you mean. Trying to light up the mood, he pokes your side with his elbow. "I'll beat him up if he's gonna treat you wrong."

"Sorry but from the looks of it, it seems like you're the one who would get his ass beaten."

Snickering at Hoseok's loud gasp – the one you know its purpose is to lighten up the mood once again – you can admit that out loud. The arrogant prick has muscles on him. You could see it from behind that desk alone.

"I'm prepared to take the risks from you." he jokes, teasing you.

"Oh, shut up!"

He laughs loudly, the ringing sound causing your lips to twitch. All the amusement is gone as his face pops up in front of you again. So are you reminded of the negative experience you unfortunately went through not even an hour ago. 

"No offense to your friend, but he's a fucking asshole." you spit, not even thinking of how Hoseok can feel about you cursing at his supposedly friend. You should've been more considerate but rather than being met with offended Hoseok, you hear his laugh again.

"Well, sorry to say this but you need this asshole."

The worst part of it is that he's absolutely right.

You made sure no disaster would happen from the beginning. Like for example, waking up late on your first day of work. Just to be safe, you set up around four alarms to make sure you won't be late.

Besides not eating anything from all the nerves, you've received an encouraging message from Hoseok who puts a lot of faith in you. At least someone does. You certainly stopped the moment you met Mr. Jeon.

Or Jungkook. Like Hoseok calls him.

It feels weird to put a proper name on him. First name, is what you mean. It's weird to even call him by it in your head. There's undeniable respect (or a fear) you have of him. Even by talking to him for a few minutes, it seems like he's going to pop up the moment you call him by his first name in your mind. 

With an empty stomach, minus the glass of water you gulped down before leaving, you get on your way to Jeon Investments Inc. The ride in a cab is full of anxiety and no matter how many times you try to steady your breathing, you feel like you're on the verge of a panic attack. Even the poor driver seems to be concerned as he asks you if you're okay. 

Turns out, after you read the contract once you found the courage, there might be a lot of things you're not prepared for. Minus all the professional terms and conditions you're supposed to comply with, you feel lost. Utterly lost. And fucked.

You've got many questions. Once you ask, you know you will come out as inexperienced and even dumb. Being an assistant is not just taking calls and dealing with emails. That much you understood after reading the ten pages of a very professionally and legally written contract. 

There is so much expected from you and being truthfully honest, you're not sure if you can make it. 

Curiosity got the best of you and after gulping down a whole glass of beer – let's ignore the fact you bought it to yourself even despite your financial state – you of course, googled your boss. Can you even call him that yet? Is he officially your boss? No contract has been signed. Mr. Jeon made sure of it. 

There are many articles about Jeon Jungkook. Most of it is just boring and professional stuff. It contains the same information – and there are not that many to begin with – but from the looks of it, it seems like Mr. Jeon is one lucky fucker. Has been born into a wealthy family and like in the famous books and movies, has inherited the family company. The man is practically swallowed in money.

He's successful. And well known amongst business people. Surely, he's no stranger in this particular circle of people.

But at least this is different from all the books and money. Because even though he's successful and has many official photos from different events, he's no celebrity. His life is purely private and no one digs in it. Which is probably for the best for him. This man is practically mysterious.

You're reminded by your conversation with Hoseok after you calmed down after your breakdown. 

"How did you even meet a guy like him?"

"Jungkook? Ah, I've known him since he was a kid. You could say we're a distant family."

"What?!" You screeched at the thought of it. And you have no idea why. 

How did you find out about it only now?

"Well, my great aunt actually married Jungkook's mom's cousin?" He questioned almost unsurely as he frowned in thought before he nodded. "Yeah. It's a little mixed up and we're not really blood related but yeah."

Thinking about it now, it makes sense. 

Where else would Hoseok meet someone like him? Without a doubt, he must've attended some private college and surely, all types of schools before that. God, he's definitely one of those people that were in a private daycare! You can only assume and you don't want to put any stereotypes on him, but based on what you know about him, he lives a different life than you and most people for sure. 

Who owns millions worth company at the age of––How old is he? 

That's something you forgot to ask Hoseok. 

The cab ride is awfully fast. Which you should be glad for. You're ten minutes earlier which is definitely better than being late. Plus, it will take you some time to get to the top floor. Especially if you'll have to go through the same process with security like before.

You do. 

The security makes you do the same routine like you had to go through when you first got here. It is their job and you fully understand that, though you're a little annoyed when they eye you as if you're carrying a gun underneath all your clothing. After all of that is done and you do have to inform your arrival at the front desk, you're finally allowed to go on the lift. 

You're not even sure if you work at the same floor where Mr. Jeon is, but guess you will find out. Despite your inner nerves and anxiety crawling up your throat, you try to appear confident as if you're not ten seconds from a mental breakdown. 

Your presence is luckily ignored, everyone seems to be on their way to work as most of them exchange greetings. Since you don't know anyone and you're not familiar with any of their faces, you remain silent unless you share eye contact with someone. You have no problem politely greeting anyone. It does put you a little at ease when most employees give you the tiniest tilt of a smile. 

The floor that you're slightly familiar with is less empty than you remember it to be, but there are still a few people walking down the halls. Getting to the front desk, you wait up there when you find it empty. Not trying to get nervous because of it, you keep looking around. You definitely look out of place. No doubt there. 

Someone gets out of the backroom and the female you're already familiar with, gets behind the desk. It doesn't take too long for her to notice you and when her eyes fall upon you, you make sure to greet her and explain why you are here. 

You're not sure if she's informed of your purpose here but she nods regardless.

"Mr. Jeon is not expected to arrive for the next hour. But that doesn't concern you, at least not now. First, we have to give you an attire."

Oh, that's right. 

Everyone has a certain dress code and since you haven't received any clothes, or instruction what to wear, you wore something work appropriate. Something similar you wore to the job interview.

"Come with me." she says with a little smile, motioning you to follow her as she leads you down the hall. 

She stops, pulling out a card from her pocket as she attaches it to the scanner. 

Opening one of the doors that is similar to the next dozen ones you've passed by, you walk inside. It's a small sized room, compared to the big halls and enormous office you were interviewed in. There's nothing special about it, though you wonder what this room is for. Besides a transparent circle shaped glass table and tall sized dressers, there's not much in here. 

Still, the room is designed well and goes with the rest of the company's aesthetic. In the corner you notice a small kitchen cabinet. There is a coffee machine and a table next to the cabinet with two stools. It seems like a breakroom but you're not sure. It seems... small compared to what this company is. 

The drawer being open is heard as the female that is yet to be introduced to you, asks your size. You answer her and watch in awe as she pulls out clothing. 

"Do you prefer pants or a skirt?"

A little taken aback, you look at her and notice her wearing a skirt. Well, you did shave your legs. "Skirt." you respond before thinking it through. 

"You can wear whatever is more comfortable to you. Mr. Jeon isn't too stern about women wearing skirts and it's completely up to us. Of course, you can change it whenever you want. You don't have to wear skirts all the time," she explains as she sets the pile of clothing that matches everyone's attire on the glass table. 

"You can wear your set of clothes too, they don't have to be company's. Some employees prefer wearing this since it saves money. But you're free to buy and wear your own clothes as long as it meets our dress code. Nothing too revealing and in the dark colors, so black or dark blue,"

You try to give attention to every word she says and you desperately let too much information sink in. Her mouth just won't stop.

"The heels you've on are fine. That isn't provided by the company, though we do have some emergency options in the dresser there," She points at one of the dressers. "You buy your own heels, that is something the company gives you money for every two months. It's added as an extra in your paycheck."

Luxury. 

"This room is not an official break room. That's somewhere else, I can take you there," She says when she glances at her watch. "This is mainly just an emergency room when you need to change clothes. It's almost like a storage room. But you can come here and make yourself coffee. I prefer to do that sometimes because it's close to my desk and it's less crowded. No one really comes in here. It's not used as much."

You nod as she glances around.

"The windows are tinted, so no one can see inside. So don't worry about the lack of curtains. You can change your clothes here, it's safe."

"Thank you."

"Very well then. I'll let you get changed. You can put your clothes back in that dresser in the corner and get them back when you clock off."

"Okay, thank you."

And with that, she spins on her heels and walks out of the room. She closes the door after her to give you some privacy. Not wasting any time, you quickly change your clothes and do everything based on what information she told you. The clothes fit and surprisingly, it's very comfortable as well. 

Your hands caress the material of your skirt and without doubt, it's clearly expensive.

Adjusting your hair, you walk out of the room to find her waiting for you. Once she sees you, she wastes zero time and starts leading you elsewhere. You have a lot to catch on.

She briefly starts pointing at the countless doors, explaining what's behind them. As much as you listen to her and try to remember everything she's saying, there's no way you will remember all of it by the time she's done. 

Passing through the glassed big room with a long table and dozens of chairs, she introduces it as one of the meeting rooms. 

"It's the most used one. Big meetings and contracts are signed there." 

There is also a big projector screen on one side of the wall with the greatest view of the city. 

She points to restrooms, not wasting time in going in there as she reminds you there's not much time. 

This girl is like a robot. She says everything fast and there's no hint of doubt or anything. You wonder how long it took her to learn everything. There really is no way someone is able to know all of this in a day. But rather than being met with any sign of empathy, she keeps showing you around and throwing new information on you from every side. 

"As you might have noticed, I work at the front desk on this floor. We will mainly work together, but your job as an assistant is closer to Mr. Jeon. Whatever you will have to deal with and prepare, I will inform you about. It's your job to make sure it runs smoothly."

She says as you follow behind her, trying to match her fast and long strides. 

Oh god, you can't do this. And you're not talking about walking fast in high heels. 

"Now this," she says, close to her desk and across from Mr. Jeon's office, before she opens the door. "is your office."

You both walk inside. Immediately met with the luxurious interior, you stare at the beige and goldish furniture that despite the color, it all seems minimalistic and clean. The entire room smells nice, and is definitely cleaner thoroughly. There's a white desk and behind it is the entire wall of long shelves with binders sorted most likely alphabetically. Even the shelves are backlit with LED lights. Since the entire building is covered in windows, there is an amazing view on your right side as you stand in front of the desk. 

"This will be your workplace. You will handle all calls, emails and everything of that sort here. Of course, you will be required to move around the building, so this place is mostly for you to handle the things where you need some peace and quiet."

"Wow," you manage to say. "This office is beautiful."

There are even nice plants in matching pots that make this place more alive.

"It sure is," she hums, "I don't think you will use it that much though."

You look at her a little confusingly. "Well, it's mainly for those calls and emails. You have tons of other work to do."

You don't get the courage to ask for more information. At least not now when you barely have enough time to blink.

"Follow me."

She leads you further down the hall, knowing every corner like the back of her hand as she greets passing by coworkers automatically. Some of them steal a curious look at you, but their prying eyes are long forgotten when your focus is elsewhere. 

"Saja," The woman calls out, stopping between the huge door frame. 

Across her shoulder, you notice a spacious room with multiple tables and stools around them. This has to be the break room she told you about before. The scent of morning coffee mixed with freshness hits your nose, the freshness that floats in the air through the entire building. 

One of the employees turns around, her gaze falling on her colleague shortly after as she excuses herself and walks up to the two of you. You notice she looks at you for a short period, mainly keeping her focus on the woman in front of you.

"Could you please show–I'm sorry, what was your name again?" she asks, glancing across her shoulder as her apologetic eyes fall down on you.

Ignoring the pinch of embarrassment, your name fills the short silence that is shared between the three of you. 

"You don't mind me calling you by your first name?" she assures.

"No, that's fine." you respond, hoping all of you can be at least friendly with each other. She did call the other woman by her first name. 

"Great," she takes a breath as she turns back facing – was it Saja? "I need you to explain to Y/N what's expected from her, especially today. I showed her around, so I hope–" She glances back at you, "You slightly know your way around."

Saja nods, clearly knowing this beforehand because her reaction is not full of surprise. In fact, there's zero surprise.

"She's your responsibility right now," She reminds her and even though Saja nods, you see her brows slightly raised in a mere annoyance. "Don't forget, Mr. Jeon expects everything to run smoothly."

"Of course." she says.

The woman that has shown you around turns to you, her lips close to a soft smile but her mind seems to be elsewhere. Clearly she's rushing to go back to work, at least you assume that is the reason for her abruptness. When she glances at her watch, it confirms your suspicion. 

"Well, good luck on your first day."

"Thanks–" You stop, giving her a questioning look when you realize you don't know her name. She hasn't introduced herself to you.

Whether the realization hits her at the lack of introduction on her side, she doesn't show it and offers you a simple answer.

"Soyeon."

"Thank you, Soyeon."

"Just listen to Saja here, she will explain the rest to you. And don't stress too much."

That's easier said than done. 

"Any advice?" you ask, chuckling nervously as she gives you a sympathetic look.

"Don't mess up."

Your mouth falling open and a total despair dominating your features, you watch Soyeon wave at you before she scurries away. You swear your heart just dropped and the stress of not being able to do this comes up to you in a bigger intensity. 

Though you seem panicked and not present, you do notice Saja's eyes scanning you from head to toe as she clears her throat. Looking at her, she motions you to join her in the room. Ignoring all eyes on you, you focus on her as she leads you toward the kitchen counter. 

"Mr. Jeon comes at half past eight every morning. Occasionally an hour earlier, so you should always be prepared for that just in case,"

What are you supposed to do? Spread a red carpet for him?

"By the time he comes here, he needs to have his schedule ready for him. You also do that a day prior, sending him his schedule electronically. But you still need to have everything ready the day he comes in, so this means all papers and other details that he needs to check over or have it prepared for him."

You nod along with her explanation as if you've done this before. 

"The assistant before you had that prepared for you, so you don't have to do it today. But it is expected of you to do that tomorrow and from now on,"

"Okay."

"Mr. Jeon doesn't like someone coming inside his office when he's not there. But as his assistant, he prefers all the documents to be on his desk, fully prepared and ready for him, when he gets there. That's where Soyeon comes, she's going to inform you Mr. Jeon entered his office and that's when you bring his morning coffee to him."

Is he a king or a boss?

Mr. Jeon seems like the biggest menace already. 

"Are you listening to me?" she frowns.

"I am, it's just too much information and I'm trying to process it."

You're not met with an ounce of empathy as she scowls at you as if you've done something wrong. That leaves you a little bitter but you don't let it show. You simply just stare at her, a knowing glint in your eyes when you're clearly not scared by her little attitude. What did she expect? Was she I Know It All when it was her first day?

This is insane. 

There's no way anyone that comes to work on their first day knows everything. Not to mention even if that person has experience in this field, every company is different. Every boss is different. Every boss requires something different.

"You better learn fast then. Mr. Jeon doesn't like slackers."

Frowning again, this time you can't fully hide it as you give her a look. Did she call you slacker just because you don't know everything? Which is absolutely fine because Hello, it's your first day here!

She glances at the wall to check the time on a big circled clock that is attached to the wall. Wow, even the clock looks fancy!

Oh shit, she's walking away. Quickly catching up to her, she starts showing you the coffee machine. Automatically, she prepares the cup and barely gives you any time to fully grasp what buttons she's pressing.

"Mr. Jeon should arrive any minute. Soyeon will let you know and you'll bring coffee to him. Along with the papers that are on your desk, I'll show you which ones."

"Won't the coffee turn cold?"

He's not here, he is supposed to arrive. You might not well Mr. Jeon well but he seems like the type to get annoyed when his coffee is cold. And judging by Saja's pause, he most likely is and your guess has been right. 

"If he comes later, you'll just make him another one." 

Mentally shaking your head at the ridiculously over some coffee, she motions for you to grab the cup as she ushers you out of the break room. You try not to spill it, matching her pace as she gets inside your now office in long strides as she opens the door fast and wide. You even passed Soyeon's reception desk but you were rushing to even notice her.

She tosses the stack of documents onto your paper. Ready to walk out, you stop her abruptly by quickly saying; "Thank you!"

She stops, barely giving you a glance across her shoulder as her light hair shines in the natural lightning. She styled it in a neat ponytail that makes her look super professional. 

And with that, she leaves with no words.

She lets the door open, not even closing it behind her as you stare at the door frame where she was standing just seconds ago. Blinking and swallowing down the irritation, you place the steaming hot coffee on your desk. Careful not to spill it over the documents. That would be truly a horror scenario. 

Sighing, you rub your forehead softly, trying not to rub off any make-up you put there. You tuck strands of hair behind your ears, cursing yourself for not putting it up. 

The beeping sound comes from the desk, causing you to jump in surprise as you look around. It's coming from an office phone and you quickly rush to it. You stare at the multiple buttons and touch screen. Logically, you pick up the actual phone and put it to your ear.

Before your mouth opens, Soyeon's voice already reaches your ears.

"Mr. Jeon just entered his office. You have his coffee ready?"

Glancing at the steaming hot coffee, you answer. "Yes."

"Perfect," she sighs, almost in relief. "Oh, not sure if Saja told you but there's an iPad in one of the drawers in your desk. We all have one. That's going to be your best friend from now on."

"Oh, okay, thank you."

In fact, Saja did not tell you about it.

You've got so many questions about the stupid iPad. What's it for? Why do you need to use it? But before you can actually ask anything, Soyeon tells you one last thing before ending the call.

"You better get him the coffee now. Mr. Jeon doesn't like waiting."

Mr. Jeon can go fuck himself. 

Still, you carefully grab the cup of coffee and the documents. Trying to balance it in both of your hands is no joke, but you somehow manage as you rush out of your office. Passing by Soyeon who's on the call, your eyes meet but there's no time for any sort of interaction besides that as you knock at Mr. Jeon's office door. 

"Just get in, he knows it's you." Soyeon whisper yells at you, a hand covering the phone's microphone.

Aren't you supposed to knock? Fuck, you're going to fuck this up so badly.

You can barely open the heavy door, but again, you surprise yourself by managing to do that without any damage done. Being back in this office brings memories but there's no time to dwell on it, not when you have a job to do. 

You see him.

The suit jacket being tossed over the couch that's pressed against the wall, right next to the massive windows. He stands tall, wearing a black button-up with slacks that match his suit jacket. You don't look too much, setting this down onto his desk just as he reaches it and sits behind it. 

When you look at him, you notice the look he gives you.

A look of disbelief that you're really here. He definitely thought you would give up.

But rather than give him that satisfaction – and the fact you need this job – you send him a smile. "Good morning."

You're pleased with yourself. Maybe you caught him off guard by having everything prepared for him. Well, they said he needs these two things from you today and you've managed to do it. That sounds like a success, right? 

"What is this?" he asks, ignoring your greeting like the arrogant prick he is.

He stares at the cup of coffee, annoyance overshadowing his entire features. And you thought he already looked annoyed.

"Your coffee?" you ask dumbly. 

Confused of why he's even asking, you notice his jaw clenching before he looks away to take a deep breath. Breath to regain patience. One he doesn't seem to have. 

"Is this a joke?"

Your eyes widen, a lump creating in your throat as you stare at his cold demeanor. "Pardon?"

"I don't drink macchiato."

How were you supposed to fucking know that? 

"I'm sorry–I didn't–"

You didn't make it. You didn't know.

But he's not interested in your apology. Nor witnessing you being a stuttering mess.

"Black. No sugar." Is all he says through clenched teeth.

Is this a fucking coffee shop?

His eyes are on your hands as you carefully grab the failed coffee. You have a feeling as if he's going to attack you any second and even such a detail like him glaring at your hands seems intimidating.

Sighing, he ignores your presence as he pulls the documents you brought him closer, opening one of them.

With a clenched jaw, you walk out of his office in complete embarrassment and anger. It feels like you're going to cry and you surprise yourself that you already feel this way. This day could not be worse. 

You've managed to already fail and fuck it up, right in front of Mr. Jeon. 

Luckily, Soyeon is not at her desk when you pass by. Finding the right way to a break room, there are less people there than before. Everyone has gone to work.

"What are you doing?" Soyeon suddenly walks in, an iPad in her hands. "Please don't tell me you haven't brought Mr. Jeon his coffee. I saw you walking in there."

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mutter through clenched teeth. "Wasn't the coffee he wanted."

"You got his coffee wrong?" she shrieks as if it's the end of the world.

Preventing yourself from rolling your eyes at the dramatics, you rather explain it. "I wasn't the one who made it. Saja did without telling me what coffee he drinks."

Soyeon stares and you don't know what to think of her look. Does she think you're accusing her that this is her fault? Well, it sort of is but they're colleagues. You don't want to make enemies here. So you nervously chuckle and quickly add;

"She probably got it mixed up."

Soyeon walks closer, helping you to navigate your way with the machine as you silently thank her. 

"She knows Mr. Jeon's coffee preference." Is all she says before she gives you a knowing look, walking away with a sympathetic scrunch of her brows. 

As the coffee pours and the sound of it fills the silence, you stare at the city view. 

She purposely gave you the wrong coffee.

Soyeon never specifically said Saja has set you up. She didn't directly hint at it and perhaps it's just been your rash judgment. Reminded again that this is only your first day here and you don't know anything or anyone, perhaps she made a mistake. That could be the case too. Though you feel bad for thinking the worst, which stems from the fact people are assholes, you focus on doing a good job from now on.

Not that the previous mistake was really your fault. 

You're that kind of person who tries to set the record straight no matter what. So this bothers you even now, but Mr. Jeon definitely doesn't care about any of your explanations. The warning look he gives you when you bring him the right coffee shuts you up immediately. 

Plus, it could all be just a mistake and you wouldn't want to make any accusations over a stupid coffee choice. You haven't graduated from Harvard as Mr. Jeon was so kind to remind you, but you're not dumb. You're not going to make enemies – nor you ever want to. But dealing with not so important things on your first day is not it. Even if your ego and tendency for justice is highly bruised. 

When you're back in your office, you try to make sense of all the papers and documents. There's no one exactly guiding you for it. Turns out the iPad that has been given you shows you Mr. Jeon's schedule. It must've been done by the previous assistant. Everything is neat and in order. You can do that.

You're in the middle of reviewing the device, trying to see how things were previously done so you could do your best, when your phone rings again. You click on the touch screen, staring wide-eyed when it comes to life and Soyeon's voice fills the silence.

"Hey, Mr. Jeon has a meeting at ten. Your presence there is needed."

It's almost embarrassing how your stomach churns at that information – and especially at the thought of it. Being in a meeting full of wealthy men? What are you supposed to do there?

"May I ask why?" you ask – nervously – because you're not sure what you're supposed to do there. 

You've read the contract. First of all, there is too much information for you to remember all of it. Accompanying Mr. Jeon to meetings among other things is one of them, that much you remember. 

"You won't accompany him to all his meetings. This one's big, so you're mostly there to take additional notes and whatever Mr. Jeon tells you."

Is he going to tell you? Because it seems like he expects you to know everything right off the bat. Though you keep that snarky remark to yourself. 

"You just need to be present and actually listen."

A few minutes later, after being navigated by Soyeon to the big meeting room she had shown you earlier, it turns out you were actually right. The room is filled with men wearing suits that scream rich and regardless of their clothing, you can tell they're important. Their age differs, it's a good mixture of young and elders. You do find some comfort when there are two other women there as well. Though, you have no idea what's their purpose or if they're one of the investors, the meeting happens after the official greeting.

They take turns. Setting up their presentations as they continue to speak about either theirs or someone else's business. You're not sure what you're supposed to take notes of. In fact, Mr. Jeon hasn't spoken to you since he successfully ignored your presence here.

He sits at the head of the long table, dark eyes settled on whoever is presenting, listening to them carefully. He has documents settled in front of him, which you soon figure out are the other investors' plans. Whatever they're presenting to him, he has in front of him on paper. You quickly note the nervousness that some men, older than Mr. Jeon for sure, show and truthfully, you don't blame them.

It feels weird to be seated behind the same table as them. You sit on the right side of Mr. Jeon. After a while, he leans back and makes himself more comfortable. Your attention is put on him, noticing he's been playing with a pen, twirling it between his long fingers. Are those rings? You quickly look away, cursing at yourself over and over again. 

Well, it's no secret this arrogant fucker is hot. You haven't had the chance to properly... look at him. The dominance oozes out of him which makes him slightly intimidating. Or maybe it's a mixture of his stern and cold exterior.

You're not a fan of him. That much is clear but none of that is important. You don't need to be one. You just need this job and stupidly said, the money that comes with it. If having to put up with someone full of himself like Mr. Jeon, you will have to endure it. At least until you'll be able to find another job. Having an experience in this company would open many doors for you for sure.

Look at you. 

Here you are thinking of this when no contract has been signed yet. 

A notification pops on your iPad and you stare for a moment before looking around. Are you allowed to look? It's not your personal iPad, it's not like whatever there is is your personal stuff, it must be work related. Before the screen can darken again, you check it. It's a file you open, trying to look as discrete as you can. Everyone's listening to Mr. Choi (if you remember the name in his presentation well), so you quickly take a peek. 

It's a file with everyone's name and the name of their business and presentation. Some of them are marked with a cross and others with a questioning mark. Frowning a little in confusion, you look around. Your breath hitches as soon as you find Mr. Jeon staring at you from your side. 

His stare is cold as ever, his eyes not faltering as you realize. He's the one who has sent you this. You're not sure why you send him a soft nod, silently telling him that you understood.

No reaction comes from him and his attention is directed back to the presenting man.

It continues like this. As the man comes and goes to switch places at the presenting spot and in front of a huge screen, Mr. Jeon slowly sends you his decisions. It's the only communication between you. 

As the meeting continues, you mostly take the notes for yourself as you separate the projects based on Mr. Jeon's previous marks. It's mostly to keep it more neat for you. You're not sure what you're supposed to do with it, but you'll find out from either Soyeon or Mr. Jeon himself. If not, you're just going to have to ask. You're not a fucking mind reader.

All presentations roughly take two hours, you swear your butt has no feeling from all the sitting. Your stomach is empty and it feels like you've lost your butt, it intensifies when you stand up. Mr. Jeon shakes his hand with the others, giving them one last greeting before he walks out of the room. You rush to catch up to him.

Your heels clink beside him as he's aware of your presence. He has to be. Yet he doesn't even spare you a glance as he stops at the elevator and clicks on the button. The elevator door opens immediately, a little surprised how hectic and fast everything seems, you take your place a little behind him.

"I want their presentations sorted out."

Oh my god.

Maybe this day is not going to be so bad after all. 

With a little smugness spreading in your chest, you confidently state; "I've already done that. I'll send it to you."

And then he glances behind him, right back at you as he makes sure you see the lift on his brow. Does he not believe you? Is he impressed? It's so hard to make out what he's thinking. He's definitely a very hard person to be around with. Hoseok deserves a golden medal for putting up with him. 

Irritated by his reaction, with swift taps to your screen, a sound of email being sent fills the elevator.  

You plaster a fake smile at him, making sure he sees it as you softly say. "Already done."

His features harden as he turns around. "I'm staying in for lunch today."

"Okay?" you ask unsurely.

You hear him taking a breath, but you can't see his face since he's not facing you. But he's undoubtedly irritated by your unprofessional response or at all, by your presence. 

"Have you not done any research?" he snarks.

Taken back for a second, you quickly shake yourself out of it. "I have not been informed about your lunch, no."

"Careful, Miss Y/L/N. You're already off to a bad start."

Before you can open your mouth and inform him that the bad start wasn't your fault at all, he doesn't seem to care as he stops you with his palm lifted in the air. His fingers slightly curled as his rings shine.

"This time make sure the coffee is black, or you'll be out of here faster than you can spell coffee."

Opening your mouth at the audacity, luckily for you he turns around right after as the elevator dings and informs you of the floor. He walks out and leaves, leaving you there with an open mouth and anger rising. Before the elevator door can close again, you quickly make it out of there and walk toward your office, hoping your walk doesn't come as aggressive as you feel.

Turns out Mr. Jeon also sends his preference for lunch and it's one of your duties to get it for him. Among all the information Soyeon has been able to give you, one of them is that you either have to get it ordered or get it personally. She explained it when you were on your way to get his freaking black coffee. It's dark just like his personality is.

You might not be an assistant before – you knew getting him things like this would be your responsibility and well, job as well. Mr. Jeon wants this and that. Mr. Jeon prefers it like this. Mr. Jeon doesn't like that.

It hasn't been even a full day of you working, yet you feel like you want to strangle that man. He has power, everything around you, in here, is his. He can afford getting this kind of service and you're paid for it.

Perhaps it's your own irritation that is simply caused by the mentioned man, but you feel more like his slave than an assistant. 

Luckily, he chose Italian for his lunch today and Soyeon helped you in showing his favorite restaurant. How she knows all of that about him is beyond you. Anyway, they could get it delivered just in time, so it's kind of your lucky day. All you have to do is to get downstairs and out of the building to take it. Plus bring it straight to his office, of course. 

"There are a few restaurants that take time to get it delivered, or sometimes they are so busy that they can't get it delivered in Mr. Jeon's scheduled lunch time. That's when you have to get it for him instead."

It's what she told you when she was clicking Mr. Jeon's order.

"There is also a car in the garage that's for this purpose. When you need to run some errands to be exact." 

That freaked you out. 

You're new. Not just here but in this city. You don't know its streets and even though you don't doubt the car has navigation, you're a little stressed about that. But can you show it? No. You don't need anyone doubting you.

Nerves are calmed down when you get your boss his lunch and everything runs smoothly. He gets his pasta and even though he barely acknowledges you, it's a success. 

One of the things you always worried about when coming to a new job is being left out. Being in a new collective is never easy and it can be nerve wrecking for obvious reasons. So when Soyeon suggests you join her for lunch, you relax and happily agree. 

It becomes your chance to meet – as you could say – your colleagues. They're welcoming and curious, asking you how you ended up in the city. For a moment it seems like you're a new attraction and despite all the attention on you, you prefer they engage you in their conversation. Even though you're the main topic of it. 

Saja is there as well. You still don't know what to think of the whole coffee situation, but she seems at ease and not looking as if she was aware of her mistake. 

"So, how do you like it here, newbie?" Max, the tallish dark haired guy with sharp eyes and prominent features asks.

"It's her first day." One of the women whose name you can't remember points out.

Max gives her a look, "So? She already feels about it somehow, right?"

He looks at you, and so do the rest of them as you're just trying to enjoy your beef broth. "It's been slightly stressful, but it's my first day. So I'm just trying to remember everything."

"Honestly, we all have been through that. First days are never easy." The woman speaks again as Soyeon shrugs while Saja reapplies her lip tint.

"Ah, the pressure to not fuck up is tough, right?" Max complains as if he's the one that's been through the most stressful day. Well, he might have. You never know.

"Max." Soyeon warns him.

"What? We're not in the company." He rolls his eyes which amuses you as Soyeon glares at his audacity to roll his eyes at her. 

"I can't imagine being Mr. Jeon's assistant. The pressure must be a lot." The woman says again, her short hair barely reaching the top of her shoulders as she pouts slightly. 

"What are you talking about? Mr. Jeon is a great boss." Saja says, twisting the lip tint close as she puts it into her purse.

"I never said he's not great," But you can. While she remarks at Saja to correct her, she simply shrugs. "I just mean the pressure is even bigger considering his assistant works with him the most."

"I could do it any day." Saja says confidently.

Your and Max's eyes meet for a brief moment, his lips twitch slightly but he seems to not react much. You're slightly curious about his reaction, though you act like you haven't seen it as you continue enjoying your soup. 

"Good luck to you, really," The woman says, "Have you managed to mess something up?"

You swallow down the broth, straightening yourself as you clear your throat. They all stare at you expectedly, the table quieting down. Oh god. "I, ah, I mean is nothing big, at least I think."

They stare even more and you mentally roll your eyes before muttering under his breath.

"I got him the wrong coffee." 

Soyeon turns her head at you, staring and for a moment you think she's silently scolding you. Not that you care, they can all fuck off. You've had a rough day and it hasn't even ended. While the woman stares at you in empathy, Max goes back to eating. 

"I mean it's not that bad." she adds, voicing her empathy. 

"Was he mad?" Max asks. 

"Well," you hesitate, cocking your head to the side. "He wasn't happy for sure."

"Oh poor you." The woman whines as if you're destined for death.

And that's when you glance at Saja. She stares and that's when you know she realizes. You're silent, not really sure if you want to throw her under the bus. It's also a great opportunity to see how she's going to react. She clearly saw your look. It's a silent communication between you.

She clears her throat, "Oh? Was that the wrong one?" 

"Yeah." you deadpan.

"Sorry about that." Is all she says as the conversation drifts to a different topic. You enjoy your meal, finally getting some food into your empty stomach. 

After you're back from lunch break, you get back into sinking as much information as you can on your own. Which means – exploring the new device that has been given to you, along with basic information about Mr. Jeon's meetings, schedule and even the emails he has sent. For a certain time being, you feel utterly lost. Not that's not any news.

You try to not let yourself lose in the craziness and hecticness this company seems to be holding. Everyone seems to work automatically, not mentioning they're synchronized like the greatest machine there could exist. Except, they're all human and perhaps they forget you're one too. Or maybe they just expect you to know everything and jump into this work. Is it possible?

Between the chunks of time you seem to have, you doubt yourself and your abilities. It's not the actual work you doubt. It's the fact that everyone and everything seems to run smoothly and fast, while you're left in your own chaos in the tallest and biggest building on this street. 

Though, you're not as useless as your doubts and anxiety might've made you feel. You get a hang of Mr. Jeon's schedule and work plan. At least most of it. 

This man is busy. Not the usual busy. 

He has meetings every day. It doesn't matter whether they're long or short, it takes most of his time. There is a bunch of material and stuff that needs to be prepared for him – every day – and he has to get through it all. 

No wonder the man is so bitter.

With so much work on his shoulders, you would fuck the money and end this business.

Perhaps, that's why you're not the millionaire here. 

Chuckling at your ridiculous thoughts, you're in the middle of checking the mailbox when the phone rings. Recognizing the four code number, you realize it's Soyeon and you already brace yourself for whatever dumb requests might Mr. Jeon has this time. 

"There is Mr. Kang on the line, he wants to schedule a meeting." 

"Okay–" 

Before you can ask her anything quickly, there's a beep sound before a male's voice resounds in the speaker. Greeting him politely, the call runs smoothly as Mr. Kang seems to be very easy going and helps you navigate yourself even without him knowing. 

You check Mr. Jeon's schedule, noticing Mr. Kang is already one of his partners and it turns out, Mr. Jeon has invested a lot of money into his entertainment business. As he tells you and requests, your boss' presence is needed and it's not a meeting that could be done directly in the company. That's why you choose the day where his schedule is not as crazy. 

You're not sure if you've scheduled it right but Mr. Kang seems to be pleased either way. The call ends shortly after and you're left in silence. Leaning back in your chair, you sigh in relief.

That wasn't so bad. 

With upcoming calls, there are numbers straight up calling you but thanks to the call with Mr. Kang, you already know what to expect. You schedule a few meetings here and there, making sure you make reminders for Mr. Jeon. Some of them had to be added or pushed forward. You're not sure if you're doing well, but you're going with your intention. You'll soon find out anyway. 

Surprisingly, the rest of the days goes like this and your brain is focused on doing the job, rather than stressing over everything. It keeps you pleasantly busy, or perhaps it's because there's no one that brags in here and pours hundreds of new information on you. 

You barely see your boss. He's mostly locked in his office, preferably not wanting to be disturbed – something you quickly pick on. Or maybe it's your assumption because how else would you know? You've been locked in your office (not literally) and doing (hopefully) your job. 

Though, he asks you to bring him one of the old contracts between one of his partners. You search for it, but luckily the previous assistant kept things neat. Therefore, you haven't spent too long searching for it and probably testing Mr. Jeon's patience. 

When you come into his office, after announcing yourself of course with a gentle knock, he taps into his laptop barely giving you any sort of gaze. You're used to it by now. Even though he seems to be busy, you still mentally roll your eyes at the lack of... respect? Acknowledgement? He surely could be more kind if he wanted to.

As you place the contract onto his desk, informing him of it even though he knows, you spin on your heels to get back to the safety and comfort of your office.

"Wait," he says as if it physically pains him to even talk to you. Or maybe it's just the gruff of his voice and the depth in it. You're surely assuming a lot of things. 

Turning around and trying to keep your facial expression polite, you give him a questioning look. One he finally sees when he finally decides to spare you a glance. 

"I need you to reschedule the meeting with Mr. Kang. I already have something planned there."

Frowning in confusion, you try to think back of his schedule you've seen dozens of times by now. Have you made a mistake? You're sure his day was mostly free, in terms of nothing big scheduled and planned.

Or there's a chance he made a mistake? You did send him his schedule though. He must've approved when he had no objections. Until now. 

"Your schedule was free on that day, sir." you inform him, the tone hesitant as if you already suspect he has made a mistake. You're still wary about it though.

He stops typing, his eyes flickering back to your figure for a split second that has your stomach clenched in discomfort. This is it. You're either getting scolded or fired. The first option seems more pleasant. 

"I've got a private schedule." he remarks with the same stoic expression you've seen a handful of times. Does this man have any emotions? Because you're seriously doubting it. 

Oh well. You couldn't have known he has a private schedule. Shouldn't you know about these kinds of things? 

"Oh, sorry. I will reschedule the meeting right away." you say, swallowing down your pride and the need to voice your thoughts. 

Of course, you know you can't speak freely because this is your freaking boss. He's cold and demands professionalism. It wouldn't be right of you to tell him that you didn't in fact know about his private schedule. Because there is no way you would know. 

And perhaps there might be a little luck in all of this. Maybe he clearly sees the distress on your face as he rolls his shoulders before opening his mouth.

"I wanted to add it and send it to you after reviewing my schedule." he informs.

You both stare at each other for a moment, while you're processing the fact he just indirectly told you it's not your fault. He knows you wouldn't know.

"Just make sure the meeting is rescheduled," he mutters, eyes focused on the screen of his laptop again. "You may leave."

Thank you, your Highness.

You leave for real this time. With a tiny feeling of accomplishment in your heart.

Mr. Kang – or what you assume his assistant to be exact – has shown no problem in rescheduling the meeting. You were slightly worried he wouldn't be pleased but after his assistant checked with him, he didn't seem to mind at all.

The sun is setting down and the view from your office is worth every second. You even steal a quick photo of it before you return back to work. 

This room is quite isolated but even the little sounds you could've heard throughout the day, just the ones that let you know this place is active and busy, have subtly faded away. The company is less hectic and everyone's probably on their way home. You won't lie, you've checked time and according to a contract that was given to you, you should've clocked off already.

But – you had a few emails to sort out along with your own personal research of Mr. Jeon's working ethic and schedule. You understand things more now, you studying and trying to get a hang of it certainly helped. 

You're not a coffee drinker but you've made yourself one after stealing five minutes, to get yourself one in the break room. The cup is now empty, sitting on your desk as you've left the door ajar. You have one more email to read before you pack it up. Even Soyeon is not at her desk and you assume she already left home. 

You're in the middle of staring into the screen, your eyes slightly aching as your door is suddenly pushed open. The sound is loud enough to catch your attention, even if it wasn't for your peripheral vision. 

You stare wide-eyed at Mr. Jeon, glancing around as if he's checking to see the room intact. Once he finds nothing suspicious or worth his attention, his gaze falls down on you. 

"What are you doing here?"

Somehow that question is invading, yet it's simple and said with a cold tone.

Opening your mouth, you try to find the right words as he glances at the surely expensive watch hugging his wrist. Not mentioning it all matches with his dark suit. 

"You were supposed to leave an hour ago."

"I wasn't sure–"

"You didn't read the contract?" he cuts you off, frowning. "It clearly states how long your usual working days are."

In fact, you read it. Along with the information that there is something called a basic shift and additional schedule. It consists of special events, occasions when you're needed outside of the company and your usual working time. So far, nobody has really talked about it yet and it's something you need to know about more.

"I wasn't sure–" you continue, louder or at least loud enough to catch his attention and let him know he interrupted you. The way his face twists into irritation is not something you should play with. 

But His Highness is probably not aware that interrupting is considered as impolite.

"--I could leave just like that since it's my first day. Actually, I was planning to finish an email before leaving."

"You're better here when you're well rested each day. I don't need an employee who works overtime because they can't finish their work on time."

The jab is there, loud and clear, one you should've been prepared for. Of course he's going to give you an attitude about this. 

"Didn't Miss Kim tell you when you're supposed to finish?"

You have no idea who Miss Kim is, it's either Saja or Soyeon. But one thing you know, none of them let you know nothing. 

"In fact, no she didn't." you inform him with a pointed look, watching him narrow his eyes at you. 

Whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. "Pack your things and leave."

He goes to turn around and leave, your panic getting the best of you as you quickly jump to your feet. "And come back tomorrow?"

His steps halt to a complete stop as he glances across his shoulder.

"You said you would give me a chance."

"And I'm keeping my word, Miss Y/L/N."

Pressing your lips together, your fingers leaning against your desk as you try to prevent them from shaking. 

"I want all the documents on my desk before eight tomorrow. And don't mess up my coffee."

And he's out of the room, leaving you with your mouth open and eyes widened. You slowly blink, realizing hitting you slowly and surely as your lips stretch into a wide smile.

You're expected here tomorrow. He didn't fire you. 

Yet.

Your legs and walk flow in a confidence you were definitely lacking the day before. Even though this job seems like something where you don't know what to expect every day, you're more content with yourself by your yesterday's performance rather than disappointed and upset about it. 

Though, there is still a slight fear of what's awaiting for you creeping around the corner. But you don't let it ruin your morning. Now when the sun starts to peek in, the morning's fresh air naturally lifts your mood.

Maybe it's not just the fear that could potentially make you anxious. You also have a huge respect for this job. Not only because you need it, but you also want to do your best. While you truly admit you wouldn't be able to work there without Hoseok's help, you'll try to prove you deserve to have a place there.

Mr. Jeon would never even let you enter the building if Hoseok wouldn't persuade him to give you a chance. Figuratively speaking. Mr. Jeon isn't probably the person that deals with employing people from the start. They have to go through different check-ups and rounds until they get a chance to see the boss himself. His word is final though. You don't doubt he's included in all those decisions, but you can't imagine him dealing with every single interested party when it comes to new job positions. 

You truly appreciate Hoseok's help. But you can't help but feel slightly embarrassed that he had to put effort in persuading his friend. You still have Mr. Jeon's face right in front of you. That one look that reminds you why you're there in the first place. 

Your ego has to go. At least you have to push it to a certain level, so you won't get too discouraged. Again, you need this job and the money it offers. This is the only reason why you're walking inside the building, blending in with people you would never truly blend in. At least you don't believe that. 

You're wearing the clothes Soyeon gave you. It's safe to say it's one of the reasons why you look like you're one of them. Well, you are for now. You can only hope you will when you hopefully sign the contract. 

A card is given you at the reception, the kind woman informing you of its use as you simply just have to scan for entry. Not literally. It's just to log in your information to the database of when you're arriving and leaving. Everyone has one.

Glad for this new information, you scan the card in a nearby scanner before waiting for the elevator. You put it into the small and very inconspicuous pocket in your skirt. One thing you've got to say about the attire, is that it makes you confident. You already feel successful while wearing it, which is ridiculous and definitely sounds like it, but it feels like an honor to represent this company. Even on your way here, you noticed a few interested gazes aimed at you.

The material feels expensive, almost forbidden to wear in fear you would stain it somehow. Coming inside here again, you're a newbie regardless of how you feel outside of this tall and massive building. 

As you come up to your floor, greeting who you could call some of your colleagues (despite there's no way you'll get familiar with all of them) Soyeon is not present at her front desk but you're guessing she must be somewhere around. Who you do find and spot coming out one of the rooms is Max. You halt a little, surprised by his sudden presence as he seems equally perplexed to see you. But the look is quickly wiped away as he shoots you a wide and friendly smile. 

"Y/N, so you didn't give up." He tries to joke, clearly hinting at the fact that yes, you're still here. Even though you're not sure why he would think you wouldn't. God knows what they think of you or what information they have about you.

Unless Mr. Jeon is keen to gossip and open with his employees, there shouldn't be too much stuff that could reach their ears. 

"No, not yet." You settle on a faint grin, keeping the joke afloat.

"I do like you, so I really hope you stick around."

"Oh, was that a compliment?" you laugh. He definitely knows how to make someone nervous.

He opens his mouth, a grin still attached to his lips but before he could make you even more assured than he already is (which is a total sarcasm on your part), someone comes out of the break room, interrupting the moment.

"Are you done flirting, Maximilian?" Saja, wearing the same attire as you, hair in a perfect sleek low bun, doesn't bother to show a hint of smile. "Our policy says there are no workplace relationships allowed." She reminds him, almost annoyingly which leaves you totally dumbfounded. 

Glancing at Max, he seems just as dumbfounded because first of all, where's the flirting? Sure, Max is a little on the flirty side but you assume that's a part of his personality. Who knows, but still, such a bold assumption is not exactly appropriate. 

But Max doesn't falter, he doesn't look embarrassed but the way he looks to his side where Saja's standing, he looks her up and down, almost in a bitter way. 

"Is there a reason why you interrupted our flirting?" he asks instead, causing you to almost choke on your spit as you clear your throat and fail to hide the awkwardness you're currently and undoubtedly feeling. 

She chuckles, not buying his attitude. "I need her to show her stuff. So please, take it somewhere else and preferably to someone else. But make sure Mr. Jeon doesn't know about it."

"You and your threats."

"The company's policy. Not threats." She corrects.

Are you interrupting something?

Max turns to you, rolling his eyes. "You know, friendliness is not against our policy."

"Explain it to Mr. Jeon, once he's the one who catches you."

"Catches doing exactly what? Talking to my new colleague? Please." 

You purse your lips, shifting weight on your feet. This is really awkward.

"Max," she says his name, laughing almost bitterly as she shakes his head as if to call out his bullshit. He doesn't move though, lifting his brow. "I'm just informing you."

"I don't need you informing me. I'm very much familiar with our policy. Now, Y/N, it was lovely talking to you and I do hope we will talk in the future, preferably not getting caught by someone." he teases, grinning at you as your cheeks heathen up as you send him an unsure grin. 

You murmur something in return, not even sure what comes out of your mouth as he shoots you one last smile before walking away. Saja stands there, raising her brow at you almost as if it's your turn to get scolded. 

"I wasn't lying. Mr. Jeon does not allow any relationships. I'm sure it's in your contract."

The one that isn't signed yet though. You keep that to yourself. 

First of all, you didn't even think about Max that way. Not unless she made it seem as if it's something bigger than it really was. Not aware of her true intentions, you don't even try thinking of it because it's pointless. 

"Is there a reason why?" you ask instead, her brows shooting up in a silent surprise at your question instead.

"I'm pretty sure it's because it could potentially ruin the progress of working. Just measure to avoid any misunderstandings and problems. Most companies do that. At least the ones I worked at did."

"Max seems like a friendly person. I don't think he was flirting."

A little annoyed as she seems to look, perhaps it's the still ongoing topic that annoys her, she stays silent for a moment. You don't give her the time to respond though. 

"It was nothing but a friendly conversation. Nothing to suspect or worry about."

The look on her face is worth your slightly passive-aggressive reaction as a grin threatens to make it to your lips. "Well, I advise you that."

"Thank you, I will take it to heart." you promise her, almost cackling when her expression drops and it turns more serious.

"Let's go to the office. I need to explain a few things before Mr. Jeon arrives." she grits through her teeth.

Despite the not so friendly exchange, a smile remains on your face as you slowly follow her to your office with slightly more confident steps.

During the ten minutes that are spent in the pleasant interior of your office, you deduce Saja is more informative and helpful than she was yesterday. Regardless of how quickly words spill out of her mouth to the point you think you might get a whiplash (again), you're trying to sink every information she has for you. She even made a few notes, point by point, that consists of basic information you'll need. 

You appreciate the work she put into that, or that she took the time to write all of that, regardless of its length. With that being said and sent to your mail, she leaves you to do your job since the time is ticking and Mr. Jeon will be here any minute. 

As explained and not forgotten, you make sure the cup in your hold and its content is the right one. Despite your boss' words of how he wants his employees well rested (though you're not sure if that's possible due to the amount of stress and work), you have barely slept well. Though, you hope the make-up you're wearing hides that tiny secret well. 

You don't dare to judge. Everyone here seems to be working well, perhaps they don't experience as much stress like you do – obviously. 

Coming inside his office after announcing yourself of course, you're not shocked at the lack of eye-contact and attention as you settle the cup down.

"I hope it's the right one." he says, something in his tone that you can't quite point out. Did he just make a joke? As many things here and in life generally, you don't dare to say and be sure. You don't know him and his personality is something you're still trying to figure out.

It's that moment and a few seconds of lingering silence that eventually causes him to pry his dark brown eyes off the laptop's screen, setting those distant and dark orbs on you. It's the clear quirk of his brow that brings you back into reality.

"Of course it is." It's funny how quickly you say it, with urgency as if you didn't get it wrong only yesterday. To your defense, it wasn't exactly your fault. Actually, it wasn't your fault at all. Saja made it and you just brought it to him. 

It still bothers you that you're the one who messed up in his eyes. Or in anyone's for that matter. He watches you for a second, enough to make you nervous while you're inches from his desk and well, him. He does radiate dominance and coldness. It doesn't make sense that Hoseok is friends with him. He's a complete opposite.

As much as you're curious about the man in front of you, you prefer not to ask your friend too much about him and his life. One, it shouldn't interest you enough to want to know it. Second, Hoseok is a very good friend with him and not only that, they're some distant family. While Hoseok is your friend and the closest person you have in the country, he's not your best friend that could potentially spill you anything. 

In other words, it wouldn't be exactly wise to try and pry. After all, your curiosity should go aside because this is your job. You shouldn't play with fire or dig into this and him. You won't risk that. 

"I had your documents and papers prepared before you came in,"

Stupid. You inform him of something he clearly saw when he came in here. 

"I hope everything's right."

"You hope?" he questions his brow in the same position that has been questioning you. 

He leans back against his chair, elbow resting on the arm handle as he brushes his fingers over his chest. He doesn't pry his eyes off you.

"You really want this job, right?"

You open your mouth and give him a look, once you can't even define yourself but obviously almost spills out of it. He notices it, he surely does because the little twitch the corner of his mouth makes is enough proof of it.

"I want to do my job right, sir. I'm still new and I'm learning." you answer him, diplomatically with a hint of honesty and roughness that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by him. 

Whatever argument he would have prepared, he decides to keep his mouth shut and just watches you with almost piqued interest. Or he's deep in thoughts, like you said, you can't quite figure him out.

"Learning is fine, but I hope you're aware you have to be quick at it. We don't have time for any slackers or slowness."

Well, damn. What encouraging words. 

"I'm not a slacker and I hope I'm not slow either."

If he knew you even dreamed about this job, your first day haunting you even in your sleep.

"You do a lot of hoping."

"Sometimes it's the only thing we can do."

He stays silent for a moment, "I could argue with that," he protests but he says it with no remorse or anything negative. Just merrily points out. "I could also give you a few encouraging words, but I'm not sure what help would that make."

It would certainly make you not want to shit your pants in his presence, but you don't tell him that. 

You're not here long enough, but you can't imagine him being all sweet and encouraging. It just doesn't suit him at the moment. You're aware of your judgment and assuming, so you stop and straighten yourself more.

"I need to see results, not give out hope."

That's a bit cold, but you offer him a short nod.

"Got it."

"Alright," he sighs, straightening himself that he's no longer in his leaned back comfortable position. "I need you to get a car ready for today's lunch. I have a meeting at that time and you're coming with me."

You nod, hiding your shock and maybe fear? Who knows. 

"Any restaurant preference?"

"Italian. The one in the Four Seasons Hotel. Call them and reserve us a table. Just mention the name Jeon and they should confirm it."

"Got it, sir. I'll call them right away."

He nods, scooting closer to his desk, dismissing you with no other words needed. 

Turns out, he has a driver for special occasions. Not sure if lunch with a business partner is a special occasion, but this time you meet Mr. Jeon in an underground garage. Not having the guts to ask if you're late, you keep your mouth shut and the two of you get inside the car. 

You're sure you're not late, you were informed about the specific time when you delivered him the news of the successful reservation. Soyeon, whom you met during the day, has given you some details of how usually these meetings work and how you should prepare. Turns out, you're there to assist Mr. Jeon – schedule any possible future meetings and give him information about his schedule. 

It's understandable that a man with so much work on his shoulders can't remember every single thing, just as much as he can't manage the little details. That's why he has an assistant, that's why you're going. 

The reason for your presence there is no secret to you, and you knew that without Soyeon telling you. Still, you appreciate her trying to help. 

The drive there is spent in silence, a little awkward you would say. One of Mr. Jeon's driver is an older man. Not too old though, maybe old enough to be your father but he seems nice and polite. You can't exactly tell when all you exchanged were greetings before you joined your boss in the backseat.

You also can't say it's the most comfortable ride. You mean... Mr. Jeon is sitting right next to you, even though there's a little space between you – it's still the closest you've been to him so far. 

Man with such distance he seems to radiate, it feels odd to be so close to. He's a stranger, someone who literally has your destiny in the palm of his hands. Big hands at that. 

Something you've noticed before but is clear now as well. You're purely judging the way his phone looks small in his hold. You don't dare to make it visible that you're silently side-eyeing the man. He's not exactly the type to break the awkward silence, but he seems to be too engrossed in his phone to maybe even notice. Or care. 

The silent radio music is the only thing that prevents complete silence. And you find yourself staring from the window, your purse clutched to your side with the needed iPad in it.

It's when a rustling sound comes from the side, catching your attention as you watch Mr. Jeon tucks his phone back into his slacks pocket checking his surroundings out of the window. 

"Mr. Liang owns an agency that represents people who would potentially want business investors to invest in them." Mr. Jeon suddenly says, breaking the silence with his smooth but deep voice.

The moment you both share a look, which is just simply looking into each other's eyes, you almost panic and look away. You hold the stare though, not wanting to get intimidated by the man's eyes or aura. He seems clueless about that, more notes the slight surprise or confusion on your face.

"It's not important information but you can't go there and be completely clueless." he explains, causing you to nod in understatement.

"I thought most business partners come straight to you." Meaning to his company and through their employees, they got to the boss – Mr. Jeon.

You're not ashamed to have a question, a meer curiosity coming to the surface. Mr. Jeon doesn't look bothered, which is a good sign. 

"They do. But most people don't have the resources to do so. We're not a company you can just easily approach. We're talking about millions here, not a few bucks. So owners of agencies like Mr. Liang, they take care of all the important stuff. They take a share from the potential success, that is if I decide to invest in whatever they come up with."

"But they still pay for it, right? They have to be able to allow an agency to represent them."

"Of course. Nothing's for free, Miss Y/L/N," he answers, "If it's a beginner whose business is new, they usually take loans. They still need to pay."

You know how frustrating it feels not to have enough money to be able to go after your dreams. It's a sad reality. People have to take a risk to be able to go after them, most of the time to get into debts. 

It's surely not something Mr. Jeon has ever gone through. You don't judge him. He had the luck to be born into a rich family, which doesn't always have to be positive. You're just comparing the two different worlds. Regardless of that and anything that's obvious, Mr. Jeon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. 

You wonder if he can even empathize with the struggles these people, or any ordinary mortal is going through. Does he even realize how tough it is for some people? In a way, he's helping them by investing his money into their business but still. It's not for free. You've seen the numbers. He has a good share after that as well. 

After all, he wouldn't invest if it caused him to lose the money. He needs a profit off the things he invests his money into. And from the looks of it, he's doing a fucking amazing job at it. 

You arrive to the Four Seasons Hotel shortly after, Mr. Jeon dismisses his driver's attempt of opening the door for him. It's a little detail but you notice it nevertheless, focusing on yourself instead and trying not to trip in your heels.

Mr. Liang is already inside by the time you get greeted by the lovely staff. Their swift greetings aimed at the man beside you prove he is a regular here. That much was clear to you when he said to mention his name when you were about to make the reservation. 

Just like the most business partners you had a chance to see, Mr. Liang is older than your boss for sure. He's in his mid fifties for sure, but his appearance screams important and business. You're purely judging it by his suit and overall vibe. For his age, Mr. Liang definitely takes good care of himself. 

He's either surprised Mr. Jeon hasn't come alone or because he sees a new face. But judging from the information you've received, you would say it's the second option. You're right because seconds after and after the two men bow at each other, he looks at you. 

"New assistant?" he questions with a smile, outstretching his hand for you to shake.

You politely take it, bowing to him. Mr. Jeon watches the interaction, sitting down as he adjusts his suit. "We'll see."

Is all he says, your frown wanting to come to the surface but you surpass it. It's awkward and perhaps quite embarrassing to hear him saying that in front of a stranger. Mr. Liang seems to be a little taken back, but for whatever reason (or his own sake) he does not ask any further questions. 

They start chit-chatting when menu orders are given to you. You stay quiet, pulling out the iPad from your purse to prepare. Drinks are ordered and you stick to the soda, even though it's nothing like you. It's not like you should care about the bill, one of those two surely pays but still. It's a safe choice. 

"I'll come back to take your meal order." The waiter says, bowing to everyone at the table before he retrieves back.

The man starts picking their food, silently flicking through the menu. "Order something too." 

Mr. Jeon speaks beside you, not lifting up his gaze as he still scans the item in his hands. 

"This should be your lunch break, Miss Y/L/N," he reminds you.

You notice Mr. Liang lifts his eyes to watch you two but his lips stay sealed shut. 

"So order something and eat."

Well, how were you supposed to know that? At least he informed you and spared you the embarrassment of having to spend this meeting with an almost empty stomach. It's a bare minimum but regardless of that, this is still work. You're working during your lunch break. So it is touching that he wants you to eat and not starve.

That would be a really asshole move, considering they're about to have lunch during this.

"Okay." you almost whisper, looking at Mr. Liang as you send him a tiny smile. He reciprocates it and luckily, gives you no attention.

After you order the food, the two business men go straight to work. You assistate, jumping in whenever you're needed and after tasting delicious Italian food, you feel better about the entire meeting. Everything runs smoothly and even though it's hard to detect any positive emotions on Mr. Jeon's face, he seems to be pleased enough with the outcome.

Surely, you can't be a good judge of this, but considering this is your second day properly working in this company, you're proud of yourself because you knew everything. You haven't done anything ridiculously hard, mainly gave information of Mr. Jeon's schedule and did research when he asked you to, but still. You're proud of yourself.

There was not a moment where you were lost and that's a win. Especially in the presence of the boss himself. 

When you get back, Mr. Jeon retrieves back to his office, informing you he doesn't want to be disturbed and all calls should be handled by you or anyone else. You nod at that, bowing at him one last time before you separate your ways. 

"How was it going?" Soyeon asks once she spots you walking by her desk, her eyes sparking with hidden interest and curiosity.

How was it going? You ask yourself. Releasing the breath, a content smile makes it up on your face. "It went actually well."

Soyeon's brows lift up as if she expected something else, though it's quickly wiped away as she gives you a cheerful smile and thumbs up. 

You're ready to walk away but you halt in your steps. "Mr. Jeon does not want to be disturbed." you inform her.

The entire moment is professional, bringing something joyful to the hopeless situation you're in. You're merely informative, making sure Mr. Jeon's orders don't go ignored. Soyeon nods, watching you the entire time you walk to your office.

You sit in your chair, leaning back as you stare at the ceiling, giggling to yourself. The joyful moment doesn't last long though, the phone ringing loudly brings you back to reality and reminds you that nothing is won yet. 

But it's on a good path and that's exactly what you let remind yourself for the rest of the day. 

"Is your boss hot?"

The second day at your work has ended successfully and so far, Mr. Jeon hasn't come to find you and deliver bad news. That's enough to celebrate and perhaps open a bottle of wine to celebrate, but you simply cannot. You can't risk a headache or potential hangover. 

Since living overseas can be lonely and the last thing you want is to bother Hoseok. He has his own job and can't hang out with you whenever you feel like it. Therefore, you didn't consider inviting him over because there's no need to.

And FaceTiming with your older sister is just enough. It's what you used to do most of the time when you were back home. 

She moved out to Spain at the age of twenty-two which is sooner than you. For you, it was difficult to leave home and everyone there. For her, not as much. She has always been more adventurous and braver when it came to stuff like this. That's why it was such a surprise you decided to move here. Well, you did talk about wanting to come here but it was mostly fantasy talk.

She surely didn't take you seriously, knowing you wouldn't just pack your things and leave. However, you've met Hoseok and if it weren't for him, you wouldn't have the guts to leave.

"What? You did say he's young." she elaborates, shrugging at the raised brow you're showing her.

"So he's gotta be hot as well?"

If it were for you, that's exactly how you would describe your boss. Which by the way, seems very inappropriate and you almost get embarrassed for thinking it. It feels weird to be talking about it openly, even if it's your sister. 

She visibly shrugs, propping her chin on her palm. "He's young and successful. It would be a shame if he wasn't hot, just saying."

"He's decent," you hum instead, not giving the pleasure to unknowing Mr. Jeon that yes, he is hot indeed. The fucker knows it anyway for sure. "I'm more concerned about his personality. He's very firm."

You elaborate more, explain her everything from beginning in more details since messages do not give it justice. She's no stranger to your situation. 

"Well, thank god for your friend then," she says after you tell her about the interactions you've experienced with your boss. "And you don't have to work for him forever, right? You just gotta stay there for a while and then you could find something different."

"Whatever that's gonna be, I feel like it's not gonna be anything better."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because his company is one of the best known in South Korea. He's a millionaire."

"Maybe you could work for another millionaire then." she jokes, earning another glare from you. 

"It's not that simple."

"Hm," she hums, popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Is he like, super famous? I could google him. What was his name?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "He's known but he's private. People tend to put their interest and attention on idols and actors, actresses. Not millionaire heirs."

"You know what you should do?"

"What?" you deadpan, knowing one of her brilliant ideas are about to come out. 

"You should make more friends. You never know. They might help you in the future, in any field."

That's not exactly a bad idea, you know what she means. 

"I'm not gonna make friends just so they could help me when I need them." you point out.

"That's now what I meant," she argues, "Not in that way. But it's not bad to know more people. You gotta understand you don't have your family there, Y/N."

"I know that." you mutter, rubbing your forehead as you make yourself more comfortable in your bed. 

"Just think about it."

"Yeah, yeah." you wave the topic off. "I'm ready to make more friends. But currently, there aren't many opportunities to do so."

"What about your co-workers?"

"Right," You press your lips together. "They're all... I don't know, some of them are very welcoming and obviously, the company is large so I don't know everyone. I don't think it's even possible. But some of them are really serious. I don't know how to explain it."

"Maybe it's a cultural thing?" she questions.

"They're just very skilled in everything and I'm a newbie." You're reminded of Max's words. He calls you a newbie. 

"It will get better, I'm sure."

You're not sure about that, but you nod and end the topic there. You catch up over other stuff, mainly your sister talking about the reconstruction of her and her boyfriend's bathroom. Once a set of yawns keep coming in the midst of your call, you decide to end it there.

Making sure your alarm is set, even though it's automatic by now, it takes you a minute to stare at the ceiling before darkness swallows you whole. 

This time more confident to meet Mr. Jeon's orders and deep eyes that follow you into your dreams.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

It would be so funny to see Dantalian and Gamigin interact since they're such opposites. I can't see them being friends but I can't see them as enemies either.

I'll be 100% honest with you, anon... this kind of got me shipping Gamigin and Dantalian.

They would fit so nicely with eachother! Dantalian can be the manic pixie dream demon and Gamigin is the cringe fail malewife. I'll try to write their first meeting since it would he so fun-

*Dantalian gets brought to Paradise Lost for imidiate healing after he sneaked into Heaven again and Gamigin is assigned to the case.*

Gamigin: Ok, let's see... you do have a pulse so I won't have to revive you. Let me try...

*Gamigin uses a random healing spell and it fully heals Dantalian.*

Dantalian: How... how did you do that?

Gamigin: Magic!

Dantalian: I was on the brink of death, I'm preety sure my brain was damaged so badly I was considered dead.

Gamigin: Eh, death's not that big of a deal when I'm around. I'm not supposed to tell foreigners this, but let me tell you a secret.

Dantalian: You can revive the dead. Yeah, dude, I kind of figured it out already.

Gamigin: :O You're so good at figuring stuff out!

Dantalian: Of course I am! I'm a prince... I'm... a prince...

*Dantalian grabs Gamigin and bring him outside where Asmodeus and Lucifer were talking.*

Dantalian: Dad, I want to keep him!

Lucifer glaring: What?

Asmodeus: Dantalian, sweety, we can't "keep" Gamigin. He's very important to Lucifer.

Dantalian: Come on! If you don't let me keep Gamigin I'm going to kill myself!

Asmodeus picks Dantalian up and nods to Lucifer: Thank you for curing my son, Lucifer. Sorry for any inconviniences caused by him. I hope we won't see eachother in this context again.

*After they leave.*

Lucifer: Did he touch you without your consent?

Gamigin lost in thought: No... but is it weird that I wish he had?

Lucifer: ... And this is why you're not allowed outside the country.

*That night*

Lucifer on voice mail: You're son is making Gamigin have inappropriate thoughts! I understand that you cannot control your powers, but I think you should castrate your son. Maybe than he won't go into the hospital every Sunday!

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S1

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: fight scenes, reader passes out

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 2 - Encountering the Sun

Due to the aftermath of Katara allowing females to waterbend, I decided to participate with Katara and her avatar friend. Which is unsurprising for my father and Master Pakku. It felt awkward finally doing waterbend without having to feel the anxiety of getting caught, weirder doing it in front of the people who I have been hiding most. “Well done, Y/N. Feels like you never even stopped waterbending in the first place.” Master Pakku compliments. I felt a shiver up my spine. “Yeah…” I responded with a tinge of guilt. It's because I never even stopped waterbending, I'm more surprised that no one has caught on. But even if they do, they cannot do anything. I close my eyes and sigh breathily. Slowly inhaling but instantly coughed from the smell of…burning…wait. I immediately open my eyes to see the black snow coming from the sky, but that is no snow…it's soot. “The fire nation” I whispered coldy.

Not too long I hear the warning drums against my ears, spreading news to the whole northern water nation. I sat next to Yue in our hideout with all of our people, slightly shivering even though I'm perfectly fine with the cold. I held Sivoy in my arms, silently praying to the spirits over the speech my father was giving. He was most likely saying the same thing as I. I just need my family to be happy and safe, especially Sivoy. I hugged Sivoy even tighter than I already was while he was babbling nonsense, playing with my hair. I wish there was a way to tell Sivoy of how much danger we are in but…there is nothing we can do but fight.

I heard the explosions ringing in my ears. This is real…this is all real. Oh how much I wish my mother was still here, she was taken too soon by the fire nation. I just hope my father, my sister and my brother will live. Another explosion hit, I cover my ears to prevent further ringing and wince. Yue held my shoulders and rubbed them to comfort me, I shouldn't be comforted at this moment, it should have been Yue who needed comfort. Yue was busying herself by telling factual information to Katara and the Avatar about  water bending while I leaned against the ledge to peace my own mind. My ears perked up from the word ‘Spirits’. “Spirits?” I sat up catching the three off guard. “You can talk to the spirits?” I leaned closer to the avatar. “Yeah, Aang can talk to spirits. The Avatar is connected to the spirit world and the real world.” Katara explained. “If that's the case…then follow me” I immediately speed walk towards the needed destination.

  ҉   ☾

“This is the most spiritual place in the North pole, unfortunately you have to go there yourself, but this area should be able to assist you...like it did to Yue and I.” Aang nodded as all four of us walked to the Spirit Oasis. “It's so warm here” Katara examined the area. “It's pretty comforting here” I smiled at the reactions of Aang and Katara, feeling mesmerized by the area. This area was very gorgeous indeed. Aang was able to sit down in front of the pond with the fish circling one another, resembling the yin yang. “Why is he sitting like that?” Yue questioned Katara as we both looked at him strangely. “He’s meditating” Katara answered “He’s trying to cross over to the spirit world, it takes all his concentration.” 

“Is there any way we can help?” “How about some quiet?” Aang retorted snappily. “Come on guys! I can hear every word you guys are saying!”. I held back a laugh as I continued to watch what Aang was doing. Both Yue and I were very intrigued. With a flash, both his arrow and his eyes were glowing. Yue and I flinched from the scene. “Is he okay?!” Yue panicked as I furrowed my brows. “He’s crossing into the spirit world, he’ll be fine as long as we dont move his body. That's his way back to the physical world.” Katara explained, pointing at Aang. I felt shivers up my spine, someone here… I glared at my surroundings while Katara and Yue were talking, trying to see who was approaching us. “Shh someones coming-” “Aw, aren't you a big girl now”. Us three turned around to see a boy. “No…” Katara shakily said “Yes…now hand him over and I won't have to hurt you” He threatened. The boy has a ponytail and a very visible red burn scar on his face. “Who is he?!” I freaked out while holding my stance to attack. “He is part of the fire nation-” Katara couldn't finish her sentence when flames were there the next second. Immediately coming to Katara’s defense as I attempt to push him away with the water given from the Oasis. “I see you made another waterbending friend, however I didn't come this way to lose to you” He got back up again attempting to continue fighting. “Katara froze him, it can keep him restrained” I yell, gathering up as much water as I possibly could. She nodded as we both pushed him against the wall, caging him. “Is it her? Is she your master who has been teaching you these moves?” The boy said spitefully and immediately burst through the ice. “No?” I retorted back, looking at him confused but the confuzzled face didn't stay long until he blasted another flame from the palm of his hands. I move back trying to shield Aang as Katara pushes him against the rock, knocking him out in an ice mountain. I exhale a breath of relief. “Thanks Katara” “I should be thanking you”

However the relief was short lived as we felt the sun rising up and the scar boy, once again getting through the ice. Catching Katara off guard she hit the wooden pole causing her to pass out. “Katara!” I yelled and attempted to push him away from Aang. “Shoot!” I grumbled, feeling my bending growing weaker. I looked at the sky trying to look for the moon, however there was no moon. The shine of the sun reflected off of me while I tried to hold eye contact against the enemy under the bright light. Couldn't the sun come out later? His finishing blow of flames causes me to move back, coughing through the dust swaying it through my vision. “You must have known, You rise with the moon, I rise with the Sun”. I glared at him trying to get back at him, already forming my water but unfortunately I lost all feelings of my legs, colliding with the grassy land, my eyes went from blurry to nothing…

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: Im editing this while watching s3 avatar, I was worried that s3 might clash with my fic but I managed to make do. Im submitting the chapters because this is before Y/N starts her journey, so her real powers will happen in s2 (I THINK). ALSO Zuko is in this chapter wooo!! Sad there is no romance yet and this is a slow burn. I might edit the previous chapters to write slow burn. I really want Zuko and Reader to be enemies and reader to really hate Zuko. Im trying to release a chapter once everyday but one spring break is up im not sure if I would be able to continue, however ill try my best! -- Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547

[hanafubukki]

hana, i know you reblogged this post but please,

go wild and brainrot;3

Hello Herri 💕💜🌺

As you have asked for, so shall you receive. I AM STILL ROTTING OVER THIS MAN SO YOU HAVE COME AT THE PERFECT MOMENT (then again do I ever not rot over this fae????)

So that quote just hits me right in the feels, its one of the quotes that just steps on your heart, you know? HTTYD 2 is my favorite movie of the three as well

"Go on, shout. scream! Say something!"

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

These two lines are just so so filled with emotions and then you can add so much more feels and angst as well, given how you set up the story line.

SO HERE WE GO, under the cut because I am going to go wild and I ended up writing a few different drabbles.

So, to start of with your idea Herri, I'm going to add a spin on it and more details.

What if Reader was a Fae in this scenario?

So, the situation is similar to HTTYD, but in this case instead of enemies being dragons, we are going with enemies being Humans.

Humans and Fae War will be the setting.

Reader develops sympathy/empathy for the humans, but know that during this time, the Fae are too prideful to sign a treaty with them.

Likewise, humans are just as stubborn.

but the Reader cannot and will not have humans die by their hands, not anymore.

but Reader knows that they are the only ones thinking this way, and knows that their beloved, Lilia, is stubborn and won't change his mind either.

As all problems require, time is needed.

So Reader leaves in the middle of the night without telling anyone.

Time passes, and the war ends, and we come to current times.

You have moved on to another land. You used your magic to hide your Fae features until everything has settled down between the Fae and Humans.

Now that peace has come, you can’t help but wonder, should you go back? Should you reveal yourself?

Coronation Route: You went back home once you heard that Maleficia is stepping down, and her grandson Malleus will be taking her place as King. You have heard how he has a fondness for humans, and even made friends with them. You have heard rumors about how his lover might even be human. You have heard rumors how Lilia is by his side, and so are two guards (one who is human and another who is half fae and half human). You can't help it. You want to go back. You want to see him again. So you go back to your kingdom on the day of the coronation, wearing a robe to cover you. You watch as Malleus and his entourage greet the people and then you see him. He has changed...yet he is the Lilia you love and cherish. You can't help it; you utter his name. He shouldn't have been able to see you, and yet his eyes snapped towards your direction. You turn to leave quietly, hoping against all odds he's hadn't noticed you. But of course, he is the Phantom General, he catches you. You could see that he still has the love he always had for you and then those lines are uttered by you both. You end up breaking down and crying in his arms. You missed him, all these years and your love for each other never faded. It seems there is more than one celebration to celebrate tonight. It was also a night of lovers being reunited after hundreds of years.

NRC Route: I'm thinking of reasons why Fae Reader ended up at NRC and I'm going with they are a professor there. NRC is nothing, if not perfect at hiding secrets and they hid your identity well. That is until you attended the ceremony for the new students and lo and behold, Malleus and Lilia are both part of the new class. You have to force yourself from shaking. You have to stop yourself from looking at Lilia again and again. You can't look at him again. You can't drink him in as if he is water and you are very much parched for him. You try to act normal as you feel eyes on you, and you know it is him. You leave the ceremony right after is it finished, hoping to evade him just a bit longer. What can you say? What can you do? How would you face him after so long? But you have missed him so. Time is taken out of your hands when you see him in your room, while he may not look the same, he is skillful and has been known as the Phantom General after all. He is a silent as the shadows and you can't help it. You break first. You say those words, only for him to call you beautiful in return. You sob as he cups your face and wipes your tears. His arms as warm and comforting as you remember. You two have many years to make up for, and lucky for you both, you two have all the time in the world.

NO ONE LOOK AT ME I AM STILL FEELING SOFT AFTER WRITING THAT JKLWJEDLJFLJL

Now, what if Reader was human?

There's so many different situations I can come up with, but I'm going to go with two of them. One is going to be with a Human and reincarnation trope and another is going to deal with my Yume Hana Asteria.

Reincarnation Route: You were a human who had met the General on the battle field. He was ensnared by a trap set by the humans, but had gotten free. At the cost of grave wounds, you chose to heal his wounds instead of leaving him. You knew that you should have left him be, knew that he would likely kill you. but you couldn't, at the end, he needed help and you wouldn't leave him. He ended up in your care. He wasn't the...greatest patient. He snarled at you and demeaned you, but you let him be. He had many chances to kill you, but never did and that was good enough for you. You ended up dying protecting him. He had tears falling down his face while he cradled you. You told him it was okay and that you cherished your time together. You prayed you two would meet again. You did not know it, but you were the start of why he started softening towards humans. Hundreds of years passed, you had returned as the magic-less Prefect. You two made a connection as if you were soulmates, but neither of you knew why. It was only in the dream world did you both finally understand. After Malleus' OB had been settled, you yelled. Not at him, never at him, you yelled at the unfairness of it all. But he just uttered, how much you haven't changed and how you are as beautiful as he remembered. And you both knew, No matter the situation, this time you both would have a Happy Ending in this life.

Hana Asteria Route: Hana tried to stop the war between both sides, but no matter what she did, it was never enough. Hana eventually gets captured by the Fae, and in time, she forms a camaraderie with them. Eventually, she has to leave, her powers were used too much and she would shatter if she stayed any longer, so she said good bye. When she finally returned, she did not remember her time in the past. But as the story progressed as in canon, she remembered. It was then that she shouted. She felt useless. She couldn't even help those she loves, but Lilia comforted her. The stars had granted him his deepest wish. He would meet her again, and so they were reunited. This time though, they both would work together to bring forth the world they dreamed of. This story Anonie wrote speaks to me on so many levels on how Hana and Lilia met. It is beautiful and I recommend everyone to check it out.

PLEASE I AM STILL SO SOFT. IT IS SOMETHING ABOUT IMMORTALS AND MOTALS LOVING EACH OTHER. ABOUT HOW, THROUGH TIME, THEY WILL MEET AGAIN AND AGAIN. HOW THEY WILL CONSTANTLY FALL IN LOVE THAT HAS ME GO FERAL 💜💚💚💚💚

Going to stop here because then I will never stop at this rate lolol I want to hopefully write one of these ideas one day but we will see.

I hope you enjoyed what I wrote Herri and that it helped with your writer's block.

Your ask certainly has me going feral again, but hey, at least this time I'm not stating how bad I want to...uhhhh ah-hem.

Thank you of sending this in 💚🌺

Additional Credit for the Quote by @aqua-beam

[gluion]

the book of us ➵ masterlist

non-idol!zerobaseone x afab reader (they/them)

listen closely to the stories of zb1 as they find themselves entangled in lives filled with friendships, passions, hardships, love, and of course, music!

general genre/warnings ➵ lots of fluff, some angst, expect crack, they/them pronouns <3, band au, a mix of college, fresh graduates, and highschool aus, crazy case of loserism from the zb1 guys (as it should be), music is the connecting factor <3 make sure to read every story's respective genre/warnings

additional notes ➵ stories can be read as standalones but it's highly encouraged to read through all! all previous and upcoming y/ns will be referred to as __!y/n titles and synopsis are subject to change but plots/genres are pretty set

word count ➵ projected to be 10-15k words per story under side a, 5-10k words per story under side b

a/n ➵ happy 500 followers! you cannot separate me from my zb1 guys and day6... i'm excited for this series so please send strength my way <3 i hope you guys stay seated for this series :D thank u again to @vernyangel and @shegotthewoobies for the support and helping me create this universe! always remember that reblogging helps a ton and will help me gain traction :3

want to be part of the series taglist? fill out the form! masterlist

SIDE A

TRACK 1: home is found in you ➵ kim gyuvin

when kim gyuvin is forced to volunteer at a animal shelter, the last thing he expects is to be compared to a rescued dog. (and to fall in love with you.) — strangers to lovers to exes to lovers, small town au, summer au, fluff, angst, based on “i smile” by day6

TRACK 2: the ballad of a lovestruck friend ➵ seok matthew

while everyone seems to know who seok matthew’s crush is, he refuses to reveal the identity to you. (now, why’s everyone calling you dense?) — friends to lovers, university au, fluff, based on “i like you” by day6

TRACK 3: the plotted invisible string ➵ kim taerae

if kim taerae had any regrets, it would be not asking out his first love. luckily for him, he’s got another shot now. (how’s he going to mastermind it this time?) — strangers to friends to lovers, highschool & university au, fluff, crack, based on “wanna go back” & “chocolate” by day6

TRACK 4: on (your) strings ➵ zhang hao

if there’s anything zhang hao hated, it’s double harmonics, paganini’s caprice no. 24, and the annoying viola player in orchestra. (so why can’t he stop thinking about you?) — enemies to lovers, university (master’s) au, fluff, angst, based on “i wait” by day6

TRACK 5: first day(s) on the job ➵ kim jiwoong

although kim jiwoong is set to impress his boss, he’s unlucky to be assigned with the clueless intern who seems to always cause a mess. (maybe you two wouldn’t be staying in your jobs for that long.) — strangers to lovers, workplace au, crack, fluff, angst, based on “man in a move” by day6

SIDE B

TRACK 6: eye for talent ➵ shen quanrui/ricky

as ricky plans to invest in the next big band, his eyes are set on the university crowd’s favorite bar for their breakthrough. (and the owner who always says no to him.) — strangers to lovers, university au, fluff, angst, based on “emergency” by day6

TRACK 7: lost in translation ➵ park gunwook

although park gunwook wants to make his name in underground hiphop scene, he’s set on meeting the respected, masked rapper that took the community by a storm. (it just so happens that he didn’t know he fucked up his first meeting with you.) — strangers to lovers, university au, crack, fluff, based on “what can i do?” by day6

TRACK 8: 8,000 kilometers worth ➵ sung hanbin

if there’s one thing sung hanbin wasn’t expecting, it’s being kept far away from you. (did you two have what it takes to sustain it?) — established relationship, angst, based on “about now” by day6

TRACK 9: slowly bruising but healing ➵ han yujin

han yujin’s biggest enemy is himself, but you’re here to remind him of his worth amidst a sea of criticism. (all you can hope is that he’ll listen to your voice as he hopes the same for you.) — platonic, highschool au, angst, coming-of-age, based on “marathon” by day6

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[cousmemes]

dialogue starters from DOCTOR WHO SEASON 9. feel free to edit for context / continues under the cut.

"Why do you always assume I'm lying?"

"An enemy's just a friend you don't really know yet."

"Wherever you go, there are people who care enough to find you."

"Anyone can hide from an enemy. No one from a friend."

"I did something wrong. I let somebody down when I should have been brave enough and strong enough to do better."

"You do realise you're still an idiot."

"Are you any good with a broadsword?"

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Just don't run."

"He doesn't know we're here, does he?"

"When do I not see you?"

"Nobody dies here. Not one person, not one of my friends, do you understand?"

"You want to know how dangerous I am?"

"Is that supposed to frighten me?"

"If she is really dead, then you'd better be very, very careful how you tell me."

"What am I even looking for?"

"They don't have much respect for you, do they?"

"I'm so glad you didn't have to see that."

"I'm your friend. I'm your friend!"

"You know what? I've just had a very clever idea."

"How long do you think it's been down here?"

"What's wrong? You're not happy. Why aren't you happy? Tell me."

"Wait, wait. I don't think they're going to hurt us."

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Do you know what you need? You need a hobby."

"Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you."

"We're coming back, aren't we?"

"I'm fine, by the way, in case you were worried."

"We need to get there. It's our only way out."

"You're sure they're not going to hurt us?"

"You seem to know an awful lot about me."

"I'm asking what I should say to you."

"I'm not ready yet. I don't want to think about that. Not yet."

"You didn't try very hard to stop her, though, did you?"

"You can't cheat time."

"No one is coming to save you."

"You're always talking about what you can and can't do but you never tell me the rules."

"We're time travellers. We tread softly. It's okay to make ripples, but not tidal waves."

"I had a dream you'd all died. It was so real, I thought I'd made it happen."

"There's nothing to fear, strange maiden."

"What's the one thing that gods never do? Gods never actually show up!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you afraid."

"I have no reason to fear you."

"Not every misfortune that befalls us is down to you."

"We're not cowards. We do not run."

"Stay. You could help us. I know you could."

"A good death? Is that the best we can hope for?"

"I've got a hobby, thanks. It's you, by the way."

"Every time we do something like this, I keep thinking, what if something happens to you?"

"What do you think our chances are tomorrow?"

"I cannot keep you safe. I do not have the strength. But I will try to till the last beat of my heart."

"I'm sick of losing people."

"Look at you, with your eyes, and your never giving up, and your anger, and your kindness."

"One day, the memory of that will hurt so much that I won't be able to breathe."

"I do it for the adventure. Isn't that what life's all about?"

"Now is not the time to be showing off."

"How many people have you lost?"

"Why should I be responsible for you?"

"You're not like this. I know you're not."

"This is what you made of me."

"Did you miss me?"

"What's going on here? Fun and games?"

"I'm a friend. I've come to help."

"Don't do this. You know it's me. Don't let them trick you."

"I love you. I forgive you and I love you."

"You're talking nonsense to distract me from being really scared."

"You see, that's the problem. I am a brilliant liar. How are you ever going to know?"

"So, you must have thought I was dead for a while. How was that?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Is this a kidding face?"

"Is that your answer for everything?"

"Oh, admit it. I totally saved your life."

"What were you doing last night?"

"There is no nice way to say you're about to die."

"You enjoyed that way too much."

"You were upset, weren't you?"

"They look at me as if they want to kill me themselves."

"I did this to save you, you silly thing."

"Why do they always run?"

"So this is your life, then? Just bouncing around saving people?"

"Oh, she is the worst. I love her. Take that how you like."

"I swear, I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

"What were you thinking? Sacrificing yourself?"

"I can do whatever the hell I like."

"You've read the stories. You know who I am. In all of that time, did you ever hear anything about anyone who stopped me?"

"I did this, do you hear me? I did this. This is my fault."

"Listen, if this is the last I ever see of you, please, not like this."

"No. This - This isn't happening. This can't be happening."

"Why can't I be like you?"

"You're going to be alone now and you're very bad at that."

"Don't let this change you."

"Don't go. Stay with me."

"This is as brave as I know how to be."

"I know it's going to hurt you but, please, be a little proud of me."

"I can't keep doing this. I can't! I can't always do this! It's not fair!"

"You are not the only person who ever lost someone. It's the story of everybody. Get over it."

"Nothing's sad until it's over. Then everything is."

"Is this a story or did this really happen?"

"Isn't this going a little far?"

"I'll try not to break your jaw."

"Please, I don't want this."

"Look at me again. In the eye. Look at me. Just do it."

"Tell me what they did to you."

"People like me and you, we should say things to one another."

"You really are thick, aren't you?"

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

"I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Nobody's ever safe. I've never asked you for that. Ever."

"These have been the best years of my life and they are mine."

"So what happens now? Hey? Me and you, what do we do now?"

"Why don't we just fly away somewhere?"

"I don't think I could ever forget you."

"No. Stop it. You're saying goodbye. Don't say goodbye!"

"Run like hell, because you always need to. Laugh at everything, because it's always funny. Never be cruel and never be cowardly. And if you ever are, always make amends."

"I didn't mean to do this. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Why does everybody think I am so scared?"

[hiemaldesirae]

The Hazbin Graduate's Guide to Homicide [4]

ENCLOSED IS AN EXCERPT FROM THE JOURNAL OF ALASTOR HARTFELT. IF YOU ARE NOT THE INTENDED RECIPIENT, DISPOSE OF THIS LETTER IMMEDIATELY LEST YOU BEFALL SEVERE CONSEQUENCES INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO, LOSS OF FINGERS, LIMBS, AND LIFE. THANK YOU FOR YOUR DISCRETION. SIGNED, DEAN LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR.

To my generous patron X, I'm still not quite sure how I feel about this... impromptu academic journey. Though I thank you dearly (and cannot ever fully repay you) for giving me the opportunity to study such unique and diverse methods of... disposal, shall we say, it is a double edged sword of sorts. I have made a few friends- two of whom I would consider close, though I doubt I have much experience in the lane of 'close' friends- and yet more enemies, one of which is particularly aggravated by me for reasons I simply cannot fathom. I'm choosing to believe right now that it is because she is immune to any form of good comedy (a politer way of saying that the girl simply has no sense of humor whatsoever and should possibly schedule an appointment with Professor Beelzebub to see if there's something to be done in regards to her vehement refusal to let any joy in life into her heart). In any case, X, I will take this chance to reassure you that I am learning more than I ever thought I would have in the hands-on and rigorous academic processes of Hazbin Institute, and that the people I have met during my stay all total to a very enjoyable stay thus far. I will, of course, keep you updated on the various comings-and-goings of my studies and how my thesis is being planned out, as well as the various roadblocks I have no doubt I'll be facing. Once more, thank you for your thoughtful sponsorship. I do hope that my results are to your liking.

Yours sincerely, A.H.

P.S. A note to all the lovely readers, I've made a few updates in the previous installments of this series. Alastor is now rooming with Charlie and throwaway lines have been corrected to not mention the names of plot-relevant characters. Also, as a content warning, there is some slightly transphobic rhetoric used (I tried to limit it as much as I could but there really wasn't a way for me to word it properly while trying to express the idea.) If you don't want to see that, then feel free to skip to the end of Vox and Alastor's conversation in the Jade Forest. Please enjoy this new upload of the Hazbin Institute for Homicide Practitioners!

[ 1 ] / [ 2 ] / [ 3 ] <- more murder academy radiostatic

Though it may come as a surprise to those who knew him in a broader sense, Alastor wouldn't consider himself particularly well versed in the art of cooking (though he knew several people who would immediately jump to say otherwise). In his mind, cooking had always been more of a pasttime for him: a hobby to spend time bonding with his mother during and hide from his father's harsh words and harsher actions.

That was why Alastor's impromptu (not actually impromptu, he simply referred to it as such because he hadn't spent days agonizing over it like he would on other choices) decision to take up work in the Institution's kitchen was so out of character for him.

However- however out of character it seemed on the surface, Alastor was also quite the frugal spender. Though the funds entrusted to him by his sponsor were more than enough to supply him with everything he needed through the academic year and then some, Alastor was a man who had lived his childhood and early pre-teenaged years through the desolation of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, barely managing to scrape by thanks to his mother's innovation and resilience.

This upbringing, in turn, translated to a refusal to spend more than what was needed for a modest life, and a need to save every last penny that came his way. Plus, given the current path his thesis looked to be taking, Alastor had decided some weeks ago that it was much better to have excess funds left over than to have to struggle his way through the bayou once more.

Besides, this way, he got to learn more recipes to show to his Maman once he got back home.

The main chef of the kitchen was named Vortex, and from the interactions Alastor had witnessed while coming in and out of the back kitchen, he was involved with Professor Beelzebub in some sort of way. Whether they were courting or married or perhaps engaging in some sort of extra-marital affairs was a question completely beyond him, but either way, they both seemed happy and Alastor didn't quite care enough to ask further.

This was not to say that didn't mean he didn't speak to Vortex at all, of course- in fact, when he found out that the man spoke French (though it wasn't Creole French, he'd take it), the two had started talking on and off during shifts.

He'd also started to play piano at the local on-campus bar, a place that was surprisingly affordable given their one-drink only rule (a precaution to make sure that the undergraduates of Hazbin's didn't turn to alcohol to cope with whatever poor decisions they had made to land themselves here, no doubt).

This was a decision that had led to him making friendly small talk with the bartender, Husk (another student working odd jobs around campus to make up for the money that wasn't going into tuition) and adding another acquaintance to the motley crew of fellows he'd gotten to know in his weeks spent at Hazbin's.

There was his roommate, Charlie- who he'd never actually seen, save for hearing the occasional quiet sobbing from the bathroom at ungodly hours in the night while he was trying to concentrate on studying- a short young woman who introduced herself as Niffty and proudly proclaimed that her major was 'Murdering Your Spouse!', Husk, Rosie; the woman that Vox had told him about, and-

Well. Vox himself, obviously.

When Alastor had figured out why it was that Vox had sounded so familiar, he'd spent days agonizing over how to confront the man.

There was no way in any of Dante's infernos that he would be going straight up to Vox and saying something along the lines of 'I know your true identity and how you're dressing as a man when you were born as a woman' because if Alastor had learnt nothing from his father at all he had at least been engrained with a sense of subtlety and chivlary. And if his intuition served him right, he had a feeling that Vox wouldn't quite appreciate being referred to as a woman anyhow, given how he'd gone to such painstaking lengths to conceal his identity.

In the end, he hadn't even had to broach the topic himself. Vox had brought it up one day, completely out of nowhere while they were sitting under the shade of bamboo stalks in the Jade Forest, a place on campus grounds meant to imitate the serenity of real Chinese bamboo forests. "You know you're not the best at hiding your feelings, right?"

Alastor had immediately shot back with an offended, "And you are?"

This had come after a night spent at the bar, where Vox had somehow managed to get himself drunk after exactly three quarters of a glass of whiskey and ended the night sobbing into Husk's hat. He realized only after the words came out of the mouth that he was doing nothing but proving Vox right, but to the other man's credit, the only reaction he showed was the small upwards tilt of his mouth, a smile that said, I got you.

"Have you seen any of my movies before, or was it something else that gave me away?" Vox asks casually.

So casually, in fact, that the almost flies over Alastor's head, and he has to do a double take at the other man, who throws his head back and laughs, long and hard, howling like a hyena.

When he finally calms down, Alastor is staring at him unimpressed, which just sets him off again.

"Oh- oh my God, your face- oh, dear God, that's the best. If I knew that wasn't genuine I'd try and have you nominated for an award. Jesus, Al, I'm not an idiot, you were looking at me like I'd grown two heads in that one seminar from Professor Beelzebub when I said I had personal experience with chopping off someone's breasts." Vox finally got out, wiping a tear from his eye as he gasped for breath. It was oddly endearing as much as it was absolutely exasperating.

"Can you really blame me?" Alastor frowned. "I mean, even past... your own proclivities- or, I mean, your- ah-"

"Taking matters into my own hands?"

"Right. That. Even past that, it feels like a bit of an odd comment to make in the middle of a lecture."

"She was asking for examples. What was I supposed to do, not say anything?" Vox rolled his eyes, then flopped back onto the picnic blanket he'd brought out.

Neither of them had actually brought out any foods that day- it was clam chowder soup day in the dining hall, and Alastor had simply elected to skip out and bake a loave of bread for himself later, whereas Vox... honestly, given what he knew about the man, probably didn't eat anything at all. It was almost concerning how skinny the other was, considering between the two of them it had been Alastor who'd lived through the worst economic decline of the century.

In any case, the picnic blanket had mostly been decoration, but Vox had also cited not wanting to get his uniform dirty when he laid down.

Now, looking at the other man lying down on the picnic blanket, Alastor was reminded of a motion picture that Mimzy had dragged him to after several hours of painstaking bargaining- one that had featured Vox (well, the name he'd went by outside of Hazbin, anyway. Alastor still had no idea which of the names Vox considered his 'real' name and he frankly had no intentions of asking) in the same position, but in a great deal less clothes (thankfully, not none or else he wagers he would've picked up a rock and started bashing his skull in), and he looked away once more, willing himself to stop the flush spreading over his face.

"So..." Vox spoke again, breaking the relative peace of their silence. "Have you wrapped your head around the whole thing?"

Alastor paused, then nodded, still resolutely not looking in Vox's direction. "I assume this is... who you would rather be?"

"Well, obviously," Vox confirmed, though not without a bit of snark that Alastor had come to know was standard for the man over the weeks they'd spent together. "Being Vox Vanhal is... a great deal better than being Aussen Vesper, I'll tell you that much."

"Okay," Alastor said. And then, "That's quite the relief, then, because I was not prepared to start treating you like a lady."

Thankfully, despite Alastor's un-characteristic slip of the tongue, Vox only barked out another hyena-like laugh at that comment, and they spent the rest of the day trading murder tactics.

So that was one of Alastor's problems resolved. Another one, though, happened to lie with another one of his housemates in Pride House, a woman who had been there for a year or so by the time of his arrival. For whatever reason, Vaggie Mariposa had taken it upon herself to try and upstage Alastor in every class they'd shared together- which was a lot, considering they were both undertaking the same major of Murder Your Enemies.

It wasn't as though she was succeeding very well, though, besides a prank she had pulled on his radio that had- embarrassingly- caught him off guard and ended up earning him a demerit. Of course, not even a week later, he'd gotten her back with much the same setup, and earned her that same demerit. So in all, it wasn't as much a concern to him as it was a very petty move done by a woman who really should know better, considering she was taking a course to murder her enemies.

(Of course, there was also the times he'd caught her waiting outside the hallway to his room, but that was of as much concern as a stray mouse would be to an eagle.)

In truth, the only real thing that actually concerned him was the girl he shared a room with. He had confided in the matter with Rosie, who, as Vox had told him before, was really quite the counselor when it came to giving advice. He was glad to have met her here- the woman, of course, being a student taking the major of 'Murder Your Spouse' had nothing but an endless patience for Alastor's troubles, the same way he imagined that she had had to have cultivated for dealing with the absolutely useless man she was married to.

"...anyway, I don't understand there is to do about her. She's weeping every night and keeping me up, but it's not as if I can breach the topic with her when she's someone I hardly know," Alastor shrugged. "I'm no good with weepy overgrown children. Whatever it is she's discovered about herself, I wish she'd simply keep it to herself."

"Alastor," Rosie chided him. "That's no way to speak about your roommate. She's likely under a lot of pressure, poor girl- some students are on the verge of flunking out, you know, and as I'm sure the Dean has told you, there are very severe rules for failing at Hazbin's. At least show her some sympathy. Talk to the girl, lecture her if you must, but don't disparage her."

Vox had said much the same thing when Alastor had gone to him to complain instead, so, in the end, he'd given in. The next time he'd found himself poring over one of the large textbooks Professor Mammon had insisted on them buying and heard the stifled sobbing coming from the bathroom, Alastor sucked in a sigh and left his seat.

He knocked on the door hesitantly. "Hello? Are you alright in there, dear?"

The sobbing stopped near instantly, though Alastor could still hear quiet sniffling. "I'll need an answer, if you don't mind. I'd rather not have it on my conscience for causing you to hit your head on the bathtub edge and drown- though I suppose that may earn me a few more points."

"I'm fine," came the firm but quiet response on the other side. "I just- I need a bit."

"I'll be here, then, if you wish to talk," Alastor said. With that hand of invitation extended, Alastor went back to sit down at his desk, feeling a little prouder of himself for managing a show of compassion instead of harming the girl's esteem further.

What he didn't expect, though, was for that hand to be taken- weeks later, during a pre-Track warmup.

"Is... Is this a good time?"

Charlie Magne, the girl who Alastor had been roomed with stares at him with eyes so wide she looks like a caricature more than a person, and when Vox and Rosie let out twin gasps, Alastor feels a part of him shrivel up inside, knowing both of them will make him talk to her.

"I... I'm sorry, but I think... I might need your help."

[arkiliastuff]

Prologue - In a Concrete Jungle

Noah Sebastian x OFC (Aurey)

(pictures edited by me. Originals url linked on the pictures.)

A/N : I thought about this one for a while and, even though I have a lot of other fanfics that are waiting to be finished/written, I wanted to share this one in particular with you :D It's been on my mind for months, the lore maturing in my head. It's going to be a LOT different from what I usually write but I'm trying things and despite the dark mood in this story I hope you'll enjoy it as well ! :D

Warnings/Tags : Strangers/Enemies to Lovers trope, violence, blood, post-apocalyptical universe, cyber-futuristic vibe, "no god, no religion" vibe (I don't mean any form of disrespect in any religion), mention of trauma, death, loss, drugs, mental and physical abuse, trust and abandonment issues. (Just in case MDNI please).

Disclaimer : I haven’t read the comic book “Concrete Jungle” written by Noah Sebastian and illustrated by many cover artists such as Nicola Izzo, Jeremy Wilson and many more, so I don’t know much about the lore and the universe. I just got inspired by the song and the few panels of the comic book that I saw about it. The rest is a pure work of my imagination and it’s not related to anything official. Nothing is canonically official. This is totally fanfiction. And so this is how I pictured the world in the song “Concrete Jungle”.

~The little bean taglist : @valiantroeagleangel @talialovesmiw -> ask me if you want to be tagged :D

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━

She walked there, in this desolate landscape, with a strong determination. Two girls who seemed to look like her friends were following her, looking behind them briefly. Probably afraid of someone or something that will come after them. After all, they went out without authorization. They went out in this no man’s land, caused by gangs and mafias. Many civilians had perished because of this war. The survivors were hiding underground, in the subway. The reason why they went outside was because one of them, a girl with glasses and blue eyes, forgot her necklace at the church where she always went to pray. So after complaining to her friends about her precious loss, the strong-willed brunette who was among them decided to go and get the necklace back. The two other friends eventually followed her even though they were feeling nervous about disobeying.

“If we hurry, we will be back in no time” She said, trying to reassure her anxious friends.

And so, just like the bold brown-haired girl said, they arrived at the place. The church had been bombed. The two girls felt sad about the destruction, but the leader didn't seem to be moved by it. Instead, she was more focused on her mission, looking for the necklace, while making sure nobody would come to arrest them. She was in hypervigilance, almost looking paranoid. She looked everywhere under the seats and chairs that were still there until she saw something shiny. She reached for it and then wiped the dust on it. It was a crux with a silver chain. 

“I found it, Faith.” She stated, calling for her friend.

The latter one walked towards her, analyzing what she found before realizing what it was.

“It's my necklace ! Thank you so much, Audy !” Faith replied happily, using the usual friendly nickname for her friend.

The latter one just nodded in silence, her focus back on her group and looking for their second friend.

“Where is Daisy ?”

The two of them looked around the ruined church before they saw the red-haired girl who was near some candles next to a shrine of prayer. She lit up a candle and prayed in silence for their sake. Faith joined Daisy, lighting up a candle as well while Audy was watching them, starting to get annoyed.

“Come on guys, we cannot stay here too long.”

“Just a few more minutes.” Daisy replied.

A few seconds later a breeze came through, extinguishing the timid flames on the two candles. From this moment, Faith and Daisy stood up and stopped praying, turning on their heels at the same time towards Audy.

“We’re done.” The first one said.

“The Lord has heard our prayers.” The second added.

“What ? Already ? But you just lit the candles a few minutes ago” Audy replied, confusion in her eyes.

“It is the way it is. It’s probably a good omen” Faith said.

“Wait.. Let me just light the candles again.” The brunette said sheepishly.

As she was going slowly to the shrine, about to light the candles with another one, both of her friends widened their eyes in shock, attempting to stop her.

“DON’T !” Daisy yelled.

“DON’T DO IT, AUDREY ! You’re disrespecting His words !”

The long browned-haired one stopped her movement in the air, the spark just above the candle’s wick reaching it slowly but surely. Then, she looked at Faith and Daisy, an angry and dead gaze in her dark eyes.

“Even if I lit up those candles again, do you think it would change a fucking thing for what happened to our city ? To our families ? To our friends ?” She replied, clenching her teeth together as she spat her words like venom, anger getting the best of her, before she continued.

“No, it wouldn’t. Don’t take that fucking breeze as a sign from your Lord, ‘cause you two know better that, if He wanted to help us, He would have done it already. We are responsible for our own downfall. For our own misery. And no Gods will ever help us. Only the demons that you’re afraid of will answer us because they're close to what we are.”

After that, she saw the shock on her friends' faces, trying to reach out to her and yelling at her that she was irreverent by saying those words. It was the shock before the sound of something falling as fast as lightning just dropped on the ruined church. And then everything exploded. Bricks of the building were thrown away at Daisy and Faith’s head, knocking them out immediately. Audrey got hit as well, feeling her blood flowing from her face before blurring her vision. The last thing she saw was her two friends on the ground, blood running from their heads. Then, it went completely white.

━─━「₪」━─━

Aurey woke up, sweating all over her body as she was panting, trying to gain some air. She put a hand on her forehead, trying to wipe the sweat away and checking it. There wasn’t any blood. She sighed in relief but not too long. She knew it couldn’t be just a dream.

“This wasn’t just a nightmare” She whispered to herself, knowing too well this situation.

She stood up, got her gear on her and packed her stuff together before leaving the spot where she slept. She knew she shouldn’t have slept there. 

It was a small cave of collapsed buildings parted together which were composed of cables, metal pieces of broken engines everywhere. 

It could crumble any minute. But she took the risk anyway, as she felt this one was more safe. She didn’t know how long she slept but she was aware it was late. Once she got out, she covered her nose as she smelled an heavy and toxic smoke. It was the smell of somewhat burned vehicles and trash cans not that far away. It was, probably, another threat from a gang who were arguing again in the city.

She put her customized respirator on, breathing again. Then, she started to climb up the ruins, reaching for a higher spot to get a better view. She climbed a few minutes after finding a window, which gave a great opening view from below. She took her binoculars out of her pocket and started to look around. 

Through it, Aurey saw a usual wildfire in the city, on her right. She could barely hear the sound of gunshots. A lot was happening and she hoped her teammates could handle it while she went patrolling on her own. Suddenly she saw something blinking, in the corner of her left lens. She turned a bit more to her left and saw a black car entering the Nameless City. She had never seen a car like this before. This was the first time that she had witnessed new people arriving. Who could they be ? And why were they coming into this hell hole ? She made a mental note to herself to keep an eye on this vehicle and the people who were in it.

Meanwhile, Noah was lost in his thoughts as they were passing through the barbed wire gate of the city. He was just getting bored of the trip, having no idea why they got a call to come here. His partners and best friends in the car told him it was a well-paid mission, but he wasn’t really convinced by it. They had to do some cleanup as they were told. And given the sight of the city it seemed this town needed it. What was left of the police authorities were just broken cars, with no more tire or windows. They probably run away from all the chaos, just to survive somewhere else. Just being out of this mess. Noah kept staring through the window, his chin in the palm of his tattooed hand, just looking at all the clutter those crumbled buildings had made.

“A real concrete jungle…” He muttered.

Then he heard a howl. He was taken by surprise, not expecting to hear such a sound in this kind of city. He listened again, opening his window just to hear it more clearly. Another howling. It wasn’t human. It sounded more like an animal.

“ What was that ? Did you guys heard that ?” He said, his eyes widened as he couldn’t believe his ears.

"Heard what ?" Folio asked, not really paying too much attention to their surroundings.

"A howl. It sounded like a coyote. Or was it a wolf ?" Noah continued, his ears attentive to any other sound.

But the howling animal had stop. He still had no idea what his friends and him were getting into but he promised himself to investigate this strange city.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Just curious, how do the lmk crew when they are sick and when others are sick? (Not pregnancies since that whole different ball park.)

OK heres my hcs for how LMK gang deals with being sick/others being sick:

Xiaotian/MK: Ignores serious symptoms until he physically cannot walk. And although he loves the extra break time, he almost goes nuts when he's too sick and feverish to much else but rest. Draws a lot when ill, especially of his fever dreams. To Others: he goes full worried mother-hen on them. Soup, tea, soft pillows, meds, you name it - he'll zoom across town for it. Often ends up catching whatever the other person had cus of proximity.

Xiaojiao/Mei: Legit doesn't notice her symptoms until she starts flagging mid-drive, then she puts herself on strict bedrest until she's good enough to hit the road again. Prefers to treat herself, so she gets embarassed when she gets really sick and the others have to step in. To Others: Jokingly mourns them and drops off a bag filled with their fave snacks before booking it out the door. She will support them from a distance. XD

Sun Wukong: "Bah! Illness is for dorky mort- ACHOO!!" His relative isolation on FFM and hubris towards earths tiniest organisms has left SWK with almost zero immunity to common diseases. Pretty much passes out the second he gets the tiniest cold. Will try and meditate/sleep his way back to normal, but will need to be dragged kicking and screaming to a doctor. To Others: The opposite. Mortals are so fragile! Are you ok!? Why is your nose running? Are you dying?! This monkey goes into full panic mode over the smallest ailments. Buys out the pharmacy's stock in cough syrup and cold meds. Probably makes himself sick in the process.

Macaque: Accepts his fate and holes himself up in a nest for the foreseeable future. Has a slightly stronger immune system than Wukong (don't tell me that this monkey didn't live like an alley cat at some point), but in the case of really serious illness will crawl himself towards his nearest ally and/or enemy for assistance/a more honorable death. Secretly enjoys being pampered while in his more vunerable state. To Others: Full mom-mode combined with "I told you so" attitude. Strict bedrest and warm blankets. Monkey instincts take over and he'll make the sick person eat weird medicinal plants he finds/alchemises, and cuddle them in hopes of making them feel better. Often times it works.

Pigsy: Claims he's never taken a sick day in his life. Is proven wrong the first time he catches a random virus and has to shut the down kitchen for about a week. Is very frustrated, but puts the customers' safety over his pride. When he gets the slightest bit better he'll start cooking up a storm to make up for lost time. To Others: "Sick. Leave. Now." Will physically carry his sick friends/workers to the doctors to get meds before he lets them in the door. Will stuff the sick person full of healthy traditional soup recipes to encourage "natural healing" in addition to strict medical assistance. Will claim that he'd do this for anyone (he lying).

Tang: "Oh no~ I have the flu! I guess I'll have to stay home and be feed soup by my beloved Piggy~" This man will 100% take advantage of his sickness for attention. Don't lie to me. To Others: On one hand, eww. On the other, he may be able to steal a bowl of Pigsy's healing soup. Will smile fondly and let the ill person recover in their own time with meds.

Sandy: Goes belly up in the water. He's a guy with great constitution, so he doesn't get sick often. But when he does? Doctor, now. Can bounce back fairly quickly if treated, but he'll insist on the others not getting too close to him or his cats less they catch it too. Will appriciate any help (esp with his foster cats) around the boat house tho. Cat cuddle pile until he's better. To Others: Enters the room wearing a face mask and gloves, holding a tray of different teas (hot and iced), and offers to lend his aromatherapy machine. Very big on holistic methods, but won't discourage modern medicine.

Red Son: Goes into "dying victorian child"-mode. Was in the Guanyin's Southern Seas paradise for centuries (so no immunities) and likely hasn't caught most diseases simply because his body runs too hot for the micro-organisms to survive. But if he catches something supernatural, or it triggers a violent immuno-response? He's a sweaty mess unable to move from his bed, surrounded by ice packs. It's very difficult to take care of him in this state cus he's like smouldering lava. His parents get *very* worried. Gets ridiculously honest, slurring things like; "I love you so much noodle boy~" *passes tf out* to his caretakers. Doesn't remember a thing afterwards. To Others: "Bull Clones! Initiate hazmat procedures!" Gets mega worried cus he's never had to help someone in this state before, but understands how laboratory hazmat works, so will assist wearing full PPE. Will disinfect the ill person's entire living space to eliminate future threats. If the sick person is someone *really important to them, Red will panic and seek out supernatural assistance.

Nezha: "Sick? Nah I don't get sick." *falls asleep at the breakfast table the second no one's looking*. Tries to "tough it out" like he believes he should, but is woefully unprepared for how protective the rest of the gang can be. It's been a long time since someone has actually tucked him in and nursed him back to health - he gets really emotional. Will now die for his caretakers' no matter how small his ailments were. To Others: Vows to help however he can, and then goes to stand guard at the bedroom door. Will call for advice on bedside manner stuff cus he's not used to it (youngest of three yo) beyond what his mom would do for him as a toddler.

Bai He: Little kid. Will sneeze and cough and allow herself to be corralled into bed for the week. Very sleepy. Stuffed animal fort will be built to protect her. Mo may sneak in to cuddle her better. To Others: Is told to keep away from the sick person less she catches it, but will sneak in and donate one of her fave toys to keep them company. In the case of non-communicable ailments; will sneak in and try to cuddle the sick person better since that always makes her feel better too. Brings her tablet so that they can watch something together.

+(Au character) Chenxiang: Is pretty healthy, but also has no idea how personal health works. Gets his first ever really bad illness by getting drenched in rain one night and not drying himself off properly. Hallucinates feverishly and mistakes Wukong as still being his Sifu, and that he needs to save his mother. Multiple family members are required to wrangle Chenxiang back to bed in this state. Gets really quiet/wistful once he starts getting better. To Others: Gets really worried and immediately summons the adults for help. The only other time in the past he's cared for a sick person... didn't end happily. So he gets really really insistent on the sick person going to the doctor, taking meds, drinking tea & soup, everything. Pretty much helicopters over the sick until they get better, or if the adults take over for him.

[namnamcat]

AU 😇

Since I'm too lazy to make headcanons (I promise, there will be a Specter Knight soon), I decided to tell you about a little Au? I don't know if you can call him that, especially since my friend and I came up with only a couple of knights

It all started with the King Knight, we thought: "what if he was raised not by a kind mother, but by a strict father?". Then his whole company is built on the father's desire to make "something useful" out of his son. His father is one of those who used physical force in his upbringing and simply beat him for any actions, so the King Knight became more aggressive in some matters. The King Knight hates his father immensely, but cannot get off anything for him out of fear. At the end of the company, he would have taken the throne, but his father was still unwilled. The King Knight would have told him everything! That he did not want this power, the kingdom, he did all THIS only by the will of his father and probably threw him into prison (this is where he belongs). And so, the King Knight has become less narcissistic, instead he is quiet and always on edge to strike first in danger! He also gets along well with children and probably just wants to draw, something stupid and play catch-up

Next was Specter Knight. Now he is not a dead guy closed in on himself, but kindly kind to everyone and everything. He rubs into your trust, pretending to be a friend for many years, and in the end uses you for his own benefit (yes, yes, this is about you, Luan). The Specter Knight betrays Luan in the battle with the Shield Knight on purpose, so as not to divide the loot. After that, everything goes like in the original company, only the character of the Specter Knight is changed. Probably, the Black Knight guesses and directly points out the pretense of the Specter Knight, but he just doesn't care. In this case, the relationship between Specter Knight and King Knight is more friendly contrary to the original. They may have small skirmishes based on misunderstanding and aggression King Knight, but otherwise they are good acquaintances. We haven't thought about Reize, but most likely Specter Knight just doesn't care about him (?)

Plague Knight and Mona. HOHOHO. There are two ways to develop the plot:

1.In fact, their original branch, but in the course of the plot, their love fades and they decide to break up. Most likely, Mona will simply leave Plague Knight at the end.

2.From hatred to love. They appear as the greatest enemies of the alchemists. They play dirty tricks on each other's way, trying to brew the potion of absolute power first, of course, to show which of them is cooler. As a result, Mona and Plague Knight will come to the conclusion that it is simply impossible to brew a potion without each other's skills and they begin to cooperate. After getting to know each other better while working together, they fall in love. After that comes the canonical story of the game

Mole Knight came out bad and his changes are more like a joke lol. For me, he is a strong leader, ready to lead anyone (he was literally for the same with the fish, and then the moles..). Therefore, in this version, he is a..... ✨Recluse!✨. He lives quietly underground in the hope that no one will ever find him, and excavations are his little hobby. He doesn't like the Tinker Knight, but the Treasure Knight scares him (In canon Treasure Knight and the Mole Knight agreed that the Mole Knight would leave the underwater expanses. In this version, well, most likely the Mole Knight saw a shady guy claiming his house and dumped him until he was found)

Treasure Knight has simply become less greedy and is probably throwing money right and left. Maybe he got into debt and is simply financially illiterate. He has found other people's treasures, appropriated it for himself and enjoys it

Propeller Knight is now a real ruthless air pirate, ready to live on blood for fun. He is no longer flirtatious, although women and men still admire him only because of his good looks. He is a real moral freak who is strongly romanticized

And the last one is Tinker Knight. Now he is a lazy man who makes bad cars that break down every other day, no one knows how he was even taken into the order and most importantly, why? He is a petty boor and impudent sticking your slippers to the floor because you spoke badly of him. We thought that his encounter with the Mole Knight was EXTREMELY STRANGE and accidental. You know, Tinker Knight was just checking one of his bad cars and the Mole Knight fell through the ground (he escaped through one of his wormholes). In short, Tinker Knight thinks the Mole Knight is strange

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Went through the RAM playlist and picked out all my favorite lines

I still don’t know who you are / I only know that I’m still lonely / That morbid sort where even company can’t cure me / And the more you reassure, the less I trust - Against the Kitchen Floor

All the king's horses and all the king's men / Couldn't put me back together again - All the King’s Horses

Make me pay for fucking up the rest of your life - AND I’M GONE

Take my identity / All the best parts of me / And mould them into what you want! - Another Tuesday Night

And it’s my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die - Are You Satisfied?

A prison’s not always a dark place / With grey closed in walls and big loud chains / They can hide in the skin of a home - As Above So Below

Someday I will go back outside and see her, okay - Baby Hotline

Reborn / Reform / Twist my legs to one / And mind to none : Don’t leave me be / I’m a bathtub mermaid / I cannot swim but only sing - Bathtub Mermaid

I feel like / I never knew you / And I never wanna know you again - Better Off Gone

In this case, just won’t you go and please let it be / Because I still won’t be able to say sorry - Breaking Things Into Pieces

Tell me when to drink, tell me when to eat, tell me when to smile, tell me when to breathe / Tell me when I overreact / No, tell me again, please / I love being told what to do, but only when I'm told by you / At least, that's what I used to think, but nowadays, I'm on the brink - Cannibal

Take this pill, you'll feel much better / When you wake up numb and your brain's been severed - Careful What You Wish For

Take a good look this is me / This is what I’ve come to be - The Chattering Lack of Common Sense

They say they wanna help, but they always fucking leave - CODE MISTAKE

When did I become a man / Trapped inside a ghost? / If you could only see me now / I know I'd disappoint somehow - The Comfort of a Laugh Track

You'll be fine you honeycomb / Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so cold? - Community Gardens

I’ve become what you like / I am what you wanted, right? - Copycat

Stay asleep / And blame / Everyone for giving up - Cross

Oh, circumcise my love for you / It's far too vapid and aimless - Cupid

Under my skin, you're unwrapping / All that I am, I swear / I wanted to keep, I wanted to stay / Deep in your head forever / I wanna show you something / Melting through my brain / Every time you're around / You're assaulting me - D D D N N N A A A

Carved right into my head / Quick lobotomy / Then left me for dead - Dangerous

I don't think I know myself, without your help - A Dangerous Thing

Buried in the basement, cold cement / Dead comes talking, can’t put them to rest - The Dead Come Talking

So I’m taking your narrative, and I’m making it mine - The Dismemberment Song

I’m gonna be in love forever cause I’m gonna die tonight : Transformation complete, transformation complete / You are now, as you once were: beautiful - DOGMATICA

Well, who should I be then, if I'll never be the same? - Dr. Sunshine Is Dead

I’m black, then I’m white / No! Something isn’t right! / My enemy’s invisible, I don’t know how to fight - Echo

And so long to the person you begged me to be / He's down, he's dead / Now take a good long look at what you've done to me - Farewell Wanderlust

You hurt me / You hurt me / But it's all okay / Because I love you anyway : I have no clue what you’re saying / I’m gonna lose my mind! - Folie a Deux

I was shown my place, but I didn’t care for it - Gambler

I get to be dumb, you get to exercise control - GIRL HELL 1999

I’m not her / And I’ll never be / I’m just debris - Going Insane

You told me something along like / The lines of “It’s all my fault that you are the way you are” / That is right, it is all your fault / But I hope you just remember that it's not all there is to it - Heavenly You

A vivisection of me / Done by God for all to see - Honey I’m Home

Am I a toy to you, my love? / Just a thing to play and / Then throw away - A Human’s Touch

My love must be a kind of blind love / I can't see anyone but you - I Only Have Eyes For You

Me and the TV are enemies / Sickening static surrounds my mind - I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead

I've got you under my skin / I've got you deep in the heart of me / So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me - I've Got You Under My Skin

You say that I’m better / Why don’t I feel better? - Karma

Do I know who I pretend to be / Of whom am I a copy? - Language of the Lost

I only turned out to be just one more girl you slew - Let the Record Show

There’s an old voice in my head that’s holding me back / Well, tell her that I miss our little talks - Little Talks

You’re just a clown, just a pet / Whispering love yet again - Loveit?

Some moments last forever, but some flare out with love, love, love - Love Love Love

And now, even though you're mad, and these memories won't stay / That's okay / Cause now I get to meet you for the first time every single day - Marbles

Die once every three minutes - Marijuana’s a Working Woman

Doctor, I can’t tell if I’m not me - The Mind Electric

You want a taste of my brain / Okay, it’s yours anyway - Misery Meat

You were never my god - My Creator

The girl is like an architect / And I am just the new invention - New Invention

Please spare me indignity / And won't you please give me some decency? / And won't you please call it if our time is through? / Cause I know that we fall apart when nothing's new - Nothing’s New

I know exactly what’s best for you / I’ve don’t exactly what’s best for you - Novocaine

You're not a coward 'cause you cower / You're brave because they broke you / Yet broken still you breathe : Cause I'm not trapped, oh with you, you see / You're the one who's trapped with me / Cause you are in the earth of me / You are in the earth of me / My head's not yours, it's mine / And I'll take my fucking time / 'Cause I know, I know, I know - The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace

Novocaine, lobotomize me, teach me how to think - P3T

Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils - Pet

What’s a pound of flesh between / Friends like me and you - Pound of Flesh

Folded puppets in a chest / Satin, static, lost in manic - Puppeteer

Close your mouth / And your eyes / And your heart / Your new eternity lies with us - Return to the Motherland

I get high to leave all these problems on the ground / Then to my surprise, they're right there when I come back down - Riptide

Look at me, look me in the eyes / Forget yourself, surrender your mind / Right now, you're mine / All mine / Give in, you're mine / All mine - Rule #34

Must be lonely loving someone / Try’na find their way out of a maze - Should’ve Been Me

There's something quite enjoyable when someone is destroyable - Sink or Swim

You hung me on your wall / Stabbed me with your push pins / In public, showed me off - The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Now it sounds so good to me and it used to sound so good to me! / It doesn't sound so good to me, it never sounded good to me! - There’s Something Happening

This, this, this is not love / I don’t know what it is / But I know this / This is not love - This Is Not Love

You’d say that things have improved, right? - Those Who Carried On

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life - tolerate it

I know / You belong to somebody new / But tonight you belong to me - Tonight You Belong to Me

So she dressed me up as the man she loved / Then threw me in a box when she had had enough / Now the light of day I no longer see / She stuck her voodoo pins where my eyes used to be / Accidentally tragic / Victim of her black magic / Had a boy once who loved me / Now he's so afraid of me - Toy Boy

The things I see are a dread I must withstand / On my own - Uncanny

I don’t think there’s anyone under your skin - Under My Skin

I wanted someone tall and firm to reassure that I'm doing this right / But it's starting to hurt when you hold me tight - Unreliable

When I'm too far gone / Dead in the eyes of my friends / Will you take me out of here - Watercolor

Stranger things than death can happen / To lab rat girls and pretty white rabbits - …well, better than the alternative

And when you scream, "I'm not alright" / And throw my picture at the wall / You were supposed to be my light / And keep me safe against them all / "How could you leave me here?" you'll scream / And louder, I'll scream back to you from that unknown / And say, "I know you're strong enough, I know you're strong enough / I know you're strong enough to do this on your own” - Welly Boots

Transformation / You've changed within / Some selfish mutation / A stranger I once called a friend - What Have You Become?

My head is spinning, I am beaten in the end - White Happy

Just take me as I am / A memory so vivid / And savor all the parts you can / Cause no one mourns the wicked - Wicked

You don't have to say you love me / Just be close at hand / You don't have to stay forever / I will understand - You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: So Jace has grown up, he’s around in his very early 20s

Warnings: spoilers kinda, talks of death, grief

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

ENFJ

Gryffindor

Chaotic Neutral

Aquarius Sun, Virgo Moon, Aries Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Jace had grown up quickly in those years after his brother died. 

・ Daemon proposed the match and Rhaenyra agreed; they both thought this would be a great alliance

・The first time Jace saw you, he was absolutely astonished. You were nothing like a princess, well you didn’t look like one. With your fingers full of rings, hair completely wild and dark liner around your eyes

・You looked beautiful, intimidating and ... aggressive. 

・He knew you weren’t a meek woman. One that would be silent and let him take the lead. No. You were going to change his world. 

・Jace is aggressively protective of you. Because of what happened to Luke, he is so scared that something bad will happen to you. 

・Aemond Targaryen is his number one enemy, well, that position is shared with Aegon, his cousin who usurped his mother’s throne. However, whenever Aemond is brought up, his neck and face turn red to the point where he has to leave the room. 

・Never forgets special occasions and gives you the perfect gift. On your most recent birthday, he gave you a necklace with an amethyst stone the size of a thumbnail with six little diamonds placed around the golden casing. 

・Rhaenyra absolutely loves you and thinks you’re great for her son. She has had many talks with you about wanting to keep him safe and the grief she feels about Luke:

    “I will never move on from my son’s death. But I want you to help Jace move on. To live life. You give him hope, I know you do.”

・Was a bit wary about your witchcraft. But he’s seen what you can do, and how you can bend the natural world to your will

・You create protection amulets for those you care about, and enchant their clothes with such intent as well

・Animals flock to you. They know you’re a good person. You cannot help but attract them

・You’re absolutely amazed by Vermax, and he’s enchanted by you. He accepts you as Jace has. You can be around Vermax without anyone else, the dragon likes you that much

・Jace likes how you’ve decorated the bedroom. It’s covered in herbs and flowers, both fresh and dry. The fire is always going, and jars and candles line most countertops. Books about all things are stacked against the walls and the windows let in the sunlight, warming up the room. It’s homely and so cosy. 

・Jace’s younger siblings, Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon, absolutely love you. You’re like their mysterious older mentor who they look up to.

・You always make the younger boys feel safe, as Rhaenyra is often absentminded with grief and the thought of vengeance. At times you’re like a mother to them. 

・Jace comes to you for advice when he’s unsure of his next move

・You understand that he’s in high demand, and at times you can go up to 2 months without seeing him

・But he knows you’re missing him when he sees a raven 

・You’ve grown close to his family, especially Rhaenyra. She has found a friend in you. She sees you as the daughter she never had.  

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖: Love, Princess, My Future Queen. He’s actually very proud to have you as his significant other, and gladly calls you these pet names when others are around. 

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆: Quality time and Physical Touch. He loves when he can feel you, a hand on your thigh or waist. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

The Kings and Queens of Old by Harry Gregson Williams 

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Moral/Emotional Support

Arranged Marriage 

Love at First Sight

  𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞 minors dni!

・Jace is a very tender and gentle lover. 

・You’re his first. He didn’t mean to save himself for marriage, but Rhaenyra barely let him out of her sight after the first few months of Luke’s death. 

・And romance wasn’t on Jace’s mind. 

・Until he met you, and love swelled in his heart ... and his ... cock.

・His favourite position is cowgirl, seeing your tits bounce up and down with his hands on your hips ... it drives him crazy

・Likes to leave hickies on your chest, especially on your breasts and neck. 

・Has kissed every. single. part. of your body. 

・Has a mommy kink, not going to lie. But also loves when you call him daddy, sir or my lord.

・The first time you gave him head he nearly cried from pleasure

・And he was eager in returning the favour 

・He will spend hours just getting you to the edge and then leaving you there, without an orgasm, just to tease you

・Likes it when you suck his fingers

・And LOVES to make you gag on his cock

・He’s very well endowed, around 8 and a half inches when he’s fully hard 

・Nips at your lips when you aren’t paying attention