#in memory of my own grandfather - who just passed away

[spaceorphan18]

Scenes from December (24/24)

Klaine Advent 2022 Day Twenty-Four : Burst

****

December, 2083

Beth leaned against the archway connecting the dining room to the living room.  She folded her arms across her chest, thinking that she should have worn another shirt under her sweater.  Demetri’s Aunt Katharine always the heat cranked, and with the fireplace going, it felt more like the middle of summer than late-December.  Still, she didn’t mind so much.  Demetri himself was a raging furnace and between that and the pregnancy, she had just accepted being warm all the time.  

Besides - the holidays were her favorite part of the year.  

Beth was used to a much bigger family -- Great Aunts and third cousins twice removed always popping up around the holidays was the norm.  Demetri’s family was much smaller, but that didn’t make them any less enthusiastic a family.  And the house was as cozy and welcoming as any on her side of the family.  

The sleek, modern-designed house was fully decorated; the faux silver and blue Christmas tree perfectly decorated with gold and blue ornaments and bright, white lights stood in the corner next to the fireplace, where the stockings - plenty of them, each embroidered with a family member’s name, hung from the mantle.  The mantle itself had a cute, little display of Santa, Mrs. Claus, and a bunch of Elvin figurines depicting Christmas at the North Pole.   And hanging on the wall was a gigantic wreath that framed the oversized photo of the family - one taken just as she and Demetri had begun seriously dating. 

The photo featured Demetri’s grandfathers, sitting on chairs, looking dapper in their suits, as the rest of the family surrounded them.  Beth, herself, was barely visible in the back - she assumed (humorously) in case they needed to crop her out.  She remembered that day fondly, as it was mass chaos, and the only one who could get them all to focus was Demetri’s Grandpa Blaine who, unfortunately, had passed away the previous year.  Despite the cheery nature of the family, his absence was felt.  Though when Beth looked at Demetri - and noticed the same ridiculously shaped eyebrows, over the most loving of hazel eyes, she didn’t think Grandpa Blaine was entirely gone. 

Demetri didn’t notice her watching him.  He was too busy on the couch, discussing the old Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer claymation kids movie that was playing on TV with his cousin Abby and her wife.  On the floor were his brother's kids, taking turns with a gamepad, oblivious to the bizarre film that was playing in front of them.  The movie was drowned out by the sound of the electric piano in the back corner - Demetri’s uncle getting schooled in piano by his daughter Emma.  Meanwhile, over in the kitchen, Beth’s brother-in-law Arnold and his wife were in the kitchen - attempting to make dinner.  If she had leaned back far enough, she could have seen them arguing about the turkey possibly not being ready in time with everything else.  

In the dining room behind Beth was her mother-in-law, Tracy, and Aunt Katharine, setting the rarely used, large oak table with the fancy silverware.  Beth assumed she wasn’t supposed to be hearing the conversation happening, as it was in all hushed tones, but she couldn’t help but listen anyway.  

“I still can’t believe they said only three-to-six months,” Aunt Katharine was saying.  “He was just diagnosed.  That doesn’t seem right.” 

“Well, they won’t operate because of his age,” Beth’s mother-in-law replied.  “They’re afraid of any aggressive treatments, which, I guess is what he needs.”  

“Have you told him yet?” 

“No, the doctor told us that it might be easier to wait until after the holidays.  I figured we could sit him down and ask him what he’d like to do.” 

“Well, you know him.  He’s stubborn enough that he’ll make it a hundred on sheer willpower alone.” 

“Katie, you haven’t been around the past couple of years.  He wasn’t doing great before Dad died.  But after last year… I’m amazed he made it to this Christmas.  I don’t know about next year’s.”  

Aunt Katharine didn’t continue, as they both noticed that Beth could hear them.  Not wanting to intrude, Beth turned her attention to the subject of their conversation.  

Grandpa Kurt sat in the lounge chair on the other side of the room, snug with a knit blanket (with little bow ties) around his shoulders.  He seemed to be in good spirits.  Someone, earlier, had placed reindeer antlers that had little bells on them on his head, and he was using them to entertain his seven-month-old great-grandson, her sweet little baby boy, who sat on his lap.  There was a burst of laughter as the baby reached for the antlers, and at the last second they were pulled away.  One chubby arm reached out, trying to grab it, as both of them laughed at the game. 

Endeared, Beth made her way to that side of the room sitting on the ottoman next to the chair.  Demetri had always said he had been intimidated by his grandfather.  But Beth adored him for his quick wit and intelligent conversation.  She knew that underneath all those rough edges was a soft and sweet inside.  Maybe she saw that legacy in her husband, too.    

“Glad you guys could make it out to Ohio this year.”  Grandpa Kurt continued to play with the baby as he made conversation with her.  “The snow makes it hard to travel.” 

Beth smiled.  “Yes, but family’s important.  We wanted to make sure we came this year.” She rubbed her baby’s back, the little boy seeming quite at home on his great-grandfather’s lap.  

She didn’t need to elaborate on why she wanted to make sure they came this year.  As much as he seemed to be enjoying the moment, there was a weariness in his eyes that she had never noticed before.  She had a hunch that her mother-in-law was probably right.  This would be their last Christmas with him.  But at least they had this time together.  At least he would get to know her little boy, even if it were for only a short time.  At least that bit of love shared would be passed down and remembered and cherished.  

Grandpa Kurt leaned forward, finally letting the baby grab on to the antlers, making the shake and jingle.  The baby laughed gleefully.  

“Are you having fun, Kurt?” Beth asked. 

Grandpa Kurt was quick to reply.  “Why yes - I’ve been known to steal focus at many a party.” 

Beth chuckled. “You know I was talking to the baby.  But I’m glad you’re having fun, too.” 

“Clearly, the mix-ups were bound to be inevitable.  Why on Earth would you name a baby Kurt, anyway?” 

Beth reached out her hand to give his a loving squeeze.  “Well, it was a pretty easy decision to name him after you.”

[bluerosefox]

Taking a Chance

I want more TaliaxDanny stuff so how about this AU. Its mostly HEAVILY hinted though.

[Side note: Danny is in his 20s, maybe mid 20s btw, also enjoy my actual writing style, haven't done this in a while besides some small snippets I write]

Talia discovers the future plans Ra's has for her baby, her heir, her child. She is hurt and enraged because "How dare he! How dare he raise my son to be a sacrificial lamb just to extend his own life!" And the fact he had no plans to truly step down from being the Demon Head. (Basically the timeline where Ra's planned to overtake Damain's body)

-x-x-

Talia stared, her green eyes almost glowing toward the sleeping form of her son on her bed. Her eyes roamed his tiny face, the way he lightly dozed the day away unknowingly of the danger that had set in stone for him. Yes, being not just her son but the son of the Bat and the grandson of the Demon Head he was always going to be in danger but never had she really thought the danger would come from the very person who just declared him his heir. At least not in the way its been presented.

Talia had just discovered the fate her father, Ra's al Ghul, the same man that had held Damian not even a day ago and spoke of the future he could see Damian bring to the League once he was of age and would lead it, had actually planned for her son.

He planned on using her son, raising him to be the perfect heir.... to... to...

Use him as a vessel in the end.

He planned to leave his old decaying body, a body that was beginning to no longer respond to the Lazarus Pits as of late, and basically jump ship to a younger and better body...

The body of her son. The son she created and craved to have and raise. The son she made with her beloved's blood running in his veins.

Despite how enraged she is' Talia knows she can't confront her father. He would kill her... no he would torture her by hurting her baby to the point death would be a mercy if she tried. She also knows she can't go running to Bruce, she had burned the bridge to him ages ago when she refused to leave her father and his teachings and knows he would rip Damian away from her should she tell him what she did. He would, under the guise of protecting their child gain sole custody from Talia, set up next to nothing visitation rights for her to follow. He would say it would be to protect Damian from Ra's but Talia knows Bruce, knows he would use it as a half-excuse just to keep her away... but Talia wants to be in her child's life. Wants to raise him. Wants to be his mother, despite knowing next to nothing on how to be an actual normal mother, she wanted to try. She needed to try.

Running away was also out of the question, especially since Damian had been declared her father 'heir'. He would hunt them down and there was no where in this world she could hide that her father could not find them...

And-

Talia barely gives any warning when she flings the knife behind her. She waited for only a second, either to hear the ting of metal being blocked or the sound of it burying itself onto the wooden door she knew was in its pathway.

Instead she heard neither of those things and instead heard the ticking of a grandfather clock and a deep chuckle.

"As expected from the daughter of the Demon. Sharp and deadly with no hesitation in sight."

"Who are you." It was not a question but a demand. She slowly turned her head and was meet with an odd sight that even the daughter of the Demon has never seen before.

"At most.. an ally to have. At worst, merely a passing stranger with an offer."

The ticking never stopped.

Everything else outside the room though did.

-x-x-

Danny stared, his currently green eyes burning even more brightly than they normally do. Many emotions passed through them, anger, frustration, pain, sadness, regret, heartbreak, and hopelessness to name a few.

He stared at the tiny sleeping face within the healing pod in front of him and closed his eyes as memories of spending time with the one sleeping filled his mind.

"My King." A voice began, Danny's sharp pointed ears twitch for a moment and he turned his head slightly but it was all the speaker needed to know that they had his attention even if he didn't give them his full attention.

"I bring the updated reports from Chief Frostbite you requested." The young yeti ghost said, this had Danny finally turning around and looking upwards and towards the young yeti, who was smaller than Frostbite but none the less bigger than Danny. Danny held his hand out and took the stack of papers in their hands.

Once the papers were in his hands he gave a curt wave of his fingers as if to say 'go on' without actually saying the words and turned his attention to the words on the papers. The young yeti, Icewinds took the signal and began.

"Princess Danielle's core has remained the same since the last check up. No major sign of deteriorating or destabilizing... However that also means there have been no signs of improvement or healing as well..." Icewinds stopped for a moment, allowing their King to register the words being spoken "We will continue to monitor her as best as we can but... My King..."

Icewinds took a deep breath and delivered the news everyone already knew "Without a female donor to complete her Ecto-DNA, should the Princess suffers from another Fading even a minor one, I fear it might be too much for her core and with her current body form it will not be able to withstand the stress... I'm truly sorry My King."

The room fell silent, the only real sounds being the monitors in the room and sound of rustling papers in Danny's hands, who was staring blankly at the words written on them but not really taking them in.

After a moment, Icewinds shifting uncomfortably for a second, Danny spoke his voice raw but strong and firm "I understand. Please inform Frostbite I am... grateful for his, yours, and everyone's continued support and everything everyone's has done to help her... If you do not mind Icewinds, I would... Like to be alone for a while and think... For a moment."

"O-Of course My King." And with that Icewinds left the room, Danny barely taking not of the door closing and his enhanced hearing picking up the hushed soft words being spoken to the Knights that stood outside the room of Danny's request of being left alone for a while.

Once the talking outside the room faded, Danny tilted his body and head back on the chair he had been sitting in for the last few days and allowed the papers he had his hands to fall out and onto the floor. Danny took in a shaky breath and closed his burning eyes as he tried to keep his core emotions in control, knowing if he lost control the Realms would echo him and would panic or worry his people.

And he couldn't deal with that. Not now.

"Clockwork, whatever timeline you are trying to set in motion, I hope it pans out soon." Danny rasped out as he tried his best to keep himself from falling apart. Losing Danielle, losing the girl that was his clone, his mirror, but also was like a sister... daughter sometimes would break him, harshly and deeply.

He knew his advisor and resident Timekeeper had something in the works, the way the aging spirit had looked at him before he left was telling when the news of Danielle's suffering from another Fading attack and Frostbite having to perform a Core Transform nearly last second, which in turn turned her into a baby from how close she was to fully Fading, had been delivered to Danny and the others.

But despite knowing Clockwork had a plan, Danny knew that smile he had before he had left. It had been Clockwork's 'Have hope, but even I am unsure.' smile, a rare one the Timekeeper would wear when even he didn't know which way the pendulum of chance would swing first.

So he did the only thing he could do for now, and that was to remain in the room with Danielle, keep her stabilized as best as he could with his own ectoplasim flowing, and wait to see if whatever Clockwork had planned would work out.

Waiting, even with all he's done in his life from becoming a Halfa, to defending his home and haunt, from fighting off insane Fruitloops to dismantling government bigots until there was nothing left of them, all the way to fighting a tyrannicidal Ghost King to the point Danny had won the crown by Trail by Combat thus taking up the mantle of Ghost King of the Infinite Realms since his seventeenth birthday and bringing the Infinite Realms into a new age of healing the broken crumbling lands and ruling over all justly but firmly, waiting was all he could do for Danielle.

And the waiting. The stress. Was agonizing.

Because what they needed was...

Was a miracle if Danny was to be honest. They needed a female, a donor in all sense of the words, to complete Danielle's incomplete Ecto-DNA, because of course that damned Fruitloop tried skipping steps in creating a clone of Danny and it was no wonder he had failed so many times with only Danielle the most stable of them all and given the fact she still wasn't was damning, but they couldn't just have any female donate their DNA to her.

No the DNA needed the donor to at least be limenal, thus turning the DNA into Ecto-DNA because Danielle was created to be a halfa... The only problem was that the person in question needed to be Jazz level of limenal Ecto-DNA as well.

Meaning that despite both Sam and Val offering their Ecto-DNA from the years of being exposed to the Realms and Ectoplasim theirs wasn't enough to work with Danielle's. Jazz's Ecto-DNA was off the table seeing as she was his sister and mixing it with Danielle's would just lead to problems.

No they needed someone who was born near or in ectoplasm, breathed it, ate or at least filtered it, grew with it for years like Jazz and Danny did, basically the person in question just needed one odd day of dying and returning to life at the same time to becoming a halfa levels of limenal. Only those high levels could complete and combined with Danielle's.

Which given the fact only Jazz had those levels, finding someone near those levels was like looking for needle in space, because forget the haystack.

"....You've returned." Was the only words Danny said when his ears caught the sound of a ticking clock suddenly in the room, his anxiety raising as both dread and a tiny slimmer of hope both slowly climb up in his emotions, knowing whatever answer Clockwork would give him would outweigh the other.

"On time, as always My King." His cryptic Timekeeper responded "I bring... a chance."

Those words were enough to snap Danny out of his chair, he quickly looked towards where Clockwork's voice had been coming from and floated. His eyes burning with determination for a moment before he caught sight of movement behind Clockwork.

Behind the ever changing being stood a breathtaking woman. Tall and proud from the way she held herself, she looked a few years older than him but Danny could sense she was far older her soul not really matching her body. She was lovely to look at no doubt but deadly, very deadly and that was something else Danny could sense after all he was the Ghost King.

And she wasn't alone for in her arms was a baby, roughly the same age that Danielle had been de-aged to as well.

Danny blinked at them when he noticed something.

She...

She was limenal.

Very limenal. Even more limenal than Jazz.

In fact both of them were.

"I would like you to meet Lady Talia al Ghul and her son Damian, My King." Clockwork said as he gave a tiny bow towards the woman who stepped forward, a frown on her face she took in Danny's features and her eyes darting towards Danielle's healing pod for a moment, Danny could see she was tensed and a little weary from no doubt everything so far.

".... Welcome Lady Talia to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." Danny greeted, his many years of training with other royalties coming forward as second nature now, he wasn't some normal teen from the middle of the Mid-West after all. "Has Clockwork told you the reasoning as to why you have been... chosen?"

He honestly would put it past Clockwork to be cryptic about the reasoning, but he hoped he hadn't because Danny really didn't want to explain the importance of it all and why they needed to hurry. And judging by the roll of his eyes Clockwork knew what Danny had been meaning as well.

"Yes King Phantom" Talia spoke, her voice rich and silky that sent a tiny shiver up Danny's spine from the sound "You need my DNA to help heal your clone. Should it be successful however it will change her from being merely a clone to instead into becoming yours and mine daughter."

"Correct." Was Danny's response, short and to the point. He needed her answer now if they wanted to save even a fragment of Danielle's core.

The room fell silent again, each them of taking a moment to think.

But eventually Talia spoke. Her voice steady and strong.

"I will offer my aid to you and yours... But only if you swear to both me and my son that we will be given sanctuary from my father and any who dares harm us for the blood that runs in our veins."

Danny only had one answer to that as his eyes caught hers.

Because despite being the Ghost King Phantom nowadays. He had once been Danny Phantom whose core started as a protector spirit and could sense the honestly of needing safety in her words.

"Yes."

-x-x-

Clockwork watched and smiled at the two adults in the room as they continued to stare at each other.

He knew he had been cutting it close, waiting for Talia to be at the ends of ropes and needing a chance to finally leave her deadly and abusive father without the toxic strings attached her ex would tie around her under the guise of safety for their son.

Turning his attention away from the two as they began to speak terms, Clockwork cast his gaze towards an window in the room and stared out of it, smile still on his face as glimpses of the rare future he saw slowly rose up more frequently.

Danny and Talia slowly and surely working together to raise not just Danielle, or rather Ellie as they renamed her since she was no longer a clone of Danny, but also Damian together. Passing them off as twins to those outside the Realms or Amity Park.

Talia learning to release the toxic love she had towards Bruce Wayne, and understand if someone truly loved you for you, they would demand sudden change from the only way of life one knows. That since she was no longer the thumb of her father she could finally be free to be herself.

Danny learning that despite being crowned so early in his life, that the weight of the crown didn't need to be carried alone. Sure he had his friends and family but Danny needed someone, someone who understood the weight of the feeling of needing to wear it head held high. And who better to help teach that than the woman who had to carry the name Daughter of the Demon Head herself.

The two growing closer and closer. Until fondness changed and shifted into more. As they raised the two infants with laughter and joy and love.

Ellie getting a kiss from Talia on the forehead when she had a nightmare and seeked her mother out for comfort. Toddler Damian riding Cujo around the castle as he copied Fright Knight after watching him ride off, Danny floating right by him making sure he didn't fall off. Ellie learning how to fight not just from her mother but from her idol Pandora. Damian learning to identify the stars and their names from the man he saw, and later wished was, his father. Ellie and Damian building pillow forts in the library and reading all manners of stories to each other. Danny and Talia holding their tiny hands as they took them to their first day of school within Amity Park their joyful laughter bringing soft smiles on their parents faces.

Danny holding a crying Talia as she explained the things she had been taught and forced to learn by the orders of her father in the dead of night. Doing his best to calm her down as he had been taught by Jazz ages ago.

Talia standing tall and firm when the Observants tried to undermined a order, no a law Danny had set in motion that had upset the eyeballs badly. How she gathered evidence of their attempts to go against it and how they were nothing but traitors towards their King and couldn't weasel themselves out of it this time.

Clockwork smiled warmly when he caught sight of one more glimpse of this future timeline.

Talia dressed beautifully, a crown made of stars and black jewels on her head. Her son dancing with her as firm as he could but his little tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated on his steps and was dressed like a tiny prince complete with a tiny crown of stars on his head as well, Talia's face held a tiny smile of love watching him try his hardest to dance correctly with her. Joyful squeals of laughter rang out as King Phantom twirled with Ellie, who was dressed like a true princess, in his arms.

Around them in the ballroom the citizens of Realms laughed, joyfully danced, sang, ate, or merely watched. For the first time in many, many years the Realms felt... Complete. Whole. Happy.

A true wonderful afterlife that all could enjoy.

Yes.

He knew waiting the last second was a long shot, for a chance that almost wasn't, but the future he saw was well worth it.

A good future. A balanced one. A happy afterlife one.

Now, all he had to do was wait for the seeds of this future to bloom.

[oofthwoods]

CHAPTER ONE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: "what is a legacy? it's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. i wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me". | a victorious journey always begins with a death and an offer.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: funerals, grief and death. if you don't feel comfortable with these themes, go straight to the part after 2023. you won't lose much, i promise! the second part is somehow based on right hand man from hamilton, don't ask about it. this is pretty much a prologue number two tbh, but i still hope you enjoy it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 3.2k

⭠ previous masterlist next ‭→

2021

In the solemn setting of the cemetery, the sun hung in the sky, seemingly unaware of the grief below. Its golden rays contrasted sharply with the darkness consuming your soul, each beam of light piercing through the heavy clouds of sorrow. As tears streaked your face, the warmth of the sun felt out of place, a painful reminder of the world's indifference to your shattered heart.

Standing beside the graveside, you looked up to the sky, seeking solace in its vastness. But the heavens offered no comfort, no relief from the ache within. You wondered why the sky remained clear, why it didn't reflect the storm of emotions raging inside you. Its serene blue expanse seemed to mock your devastation, its unwavering indifference amplifying your pain.

Your mother and her siblings stood ahead, their shoulders bowed under the weight of grief, their sobs a haunting melody that echoed through the air. But you stood alone, isolated in your sorrow, drowning in memories that threatened to consume you whole.

Memories of your grandfather flooded your mind like a deluge, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. His laughter, once a source of joy and comfort, now felt distant and painful, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. His stories, his wisdom, his gentle touch — they all seemed like distant echoes of a life that was slipping further and further away with each passing moment.

You recalled his final moments, the frailty of his form, the sadness in his eyes as he whispered his last words to you. "Be proud of who you are," he had said, his voice barely a whisper, his breath brushing against your cheek. "And never forget where you come from. Your roots are your strength, my dear." His words had been a lifeline in the storm of your grief, a reminder of the legacy he had left behind, of the love that would endure long after he was gone.

As you stood beside his grave, the words offered little solace. They felt empty, a faint reminder of the warmth once found in his embrace. You longed to reach out to him, to feel the warmth of his touch one last time, to beg for just a moment more in his comforting presence. But he was gone, lost to you forever in a world that seemed infinitely colder and darker without him.

You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely as you whispered your silent goodbyes to him, each word a prayer for his eternal peace. But even as you spoke, you knew that no amount of tears could ever hope to fill the void he had left behind, that no words could ever hope to capture the depth of your loss.

As you stood there, lost in your grief, the soft sound of footsteps approached from behind. You turned to see your mother returning, her eyes red and swollen from tears, her expression etched with the same pain that weighed heavily on your own heart. For a moment, you simply stood there, sharing a silent understanding born from the depths of your shared sadness.

Without a word, she wrapped you in a gentle hug, her arms providing solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. "I'm not sure I can go on without him, Mom," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you buried your face against her shoulder.

Her embrace tightened, her fingers gently combing through your hair. "I feel the same way, sweetheart. But we have to find strength, for his sake," she whispered softly, her words tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination.

As you leaned into her embrace, the weight of your grief seemed to press down upon you, threatening to crush you beneath its relentless force. Your mother's presence briefly brought comfort, like a delicate lifeline amidst the stormy sea of emotions swirling inside you.

"I miss him so much already," you confessed with your voice trembling. "It feels like a part of me is missing, like I'll never be whole again."

Her arms tightened around you, a silent reassurance that you were not alone. "I know, my love. I do too," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "He was the heart of our family, the glue that held us together."

A bittersweet silence fell between you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Memories of your grandfather danced through your mind like flickering candle flames, casting shadows of laughter and love against the walls of your grief-stricken heart.

"Do you think he's watching over us?" you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the evening.

Her hand stilled against your hair. "I'd like to think so," she replied, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "I'd like to believe that he's found peace, that he's somewhere out there, looking down on us with love in his heart."

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined him, a silent guardian in the heavens above, watching over you with a warmth that transcended the boundaries of life and death. "I hope he knows how much we love him," you whispered, your words a fervent prayer whispered into the vast expanse of the sky.

"I'm sure he does, my dear," she murmured, her voice soft with tenderness. "And I know that wherever he is, he'll always be with us, guiding us through the darkness, lighting our way with the love that he left behind."

As your mother's words gently washed over you, a sudden movement caught your eye. In the corner of your vision, a flash of royal blue fluttered amidst the solemn surroundings. You blinked, momentarily startled, before fixing your gaze on the delicate creature that alighted on a nearby branch.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you beheld the bird, its feathers shimmering like fragments of the sky woven into living form. With a heart full of wonder, you watched as it stretched its wings, basking in the fading light of the evening sun.

"We can leave now, if you're ready, sweetheart." her mother murmured, delicately turning her daughter's face to meet her own. 

As your mother looked into your eyes, you could see the sadness reflecting in them, speaking volumes on its own. Although she softly hinted that you could go if you wished, it was evident that she longed for some respite from the weight of your mutual grief. Beneath her calm demeanor, you sensed her vulnerability, a silent plea to escape the overpowering sorrow surrounding you both. With a simple nod, you silently agreed.

With a mix of sadness and resolve, you followed your mother's lead, letting her guide you away from the graveside and back into the world. While you walked together, a quick look back caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the scene you were departing. And there, on top of the gravestone, sat the blue bird, its colorful feathers standing out against the solemn surroundings.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you watched the bird, a silent sentinel overlooking the final resting place of your beloved grandfather. He seemed to look at you, and, if birds could smile, you would swear he did.

2023

You find yourself standing outside a closed door, your hand hesitantly reaching out to lightly tap against the wood. The muffled voices from within only add to your uncertainty, but the urgency of speaking with the team principal before the Abu Dhabi sprint pushes you to take action. Whatever discussion awaits behind that door must be significant enough to pull you away from your pre-race meeting with the mechanics.

In the stillness of the hallway, time seems to stretch endlessly as you wait for a response that never comes. With a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins, you finally muster the courage to grasp the doorknob. Its cool metal provides a fleeting sense of reassurance as you turn it slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest as the door swings open to reveal the dimly lit room beyond.

Inside, seated at a table, is Mr. Vowles, engrossed in conversation. Your presence at the threshold goes unnoticed for a moment until you gather your resolve and speak up, your voice barely above a whisper as you address him.

"Mr. Vowles, did you need to see me?" you venture, your words hanging in the air with a hint of uncertainty.

At the sound of your voice, James looks up, his expression softening into a welcoming smile.

"Williams, come in," he says, his warm tone instantly easing your nerves as he gestures for you to enter. "Have you met Sargeant?" he continues, motioning towards a figure standing nearby, their presence previously hidden in the shadows of the room.

As James mentions Logan, it's like a floodgate of memories bursting open, whisking you back to the time when you and Logan shared an unbreakable bond. You were inseparable, navigating the twists and turns of life at the academy with laughter, support, and a shared vision of the future.

But as the competition for a spot in Formula One heated up, your friendship began to strain. What started as friendly competition slowly morphed into something more complicated. The pressure mounted, and with it came a subtle shift in your relationship. Each race seemed to drive a wedge between you, rather than bringing you closer.

It was at the peak of your rivalry that things started to unravel. Every little disagreement or perceived slight seemed to fester, poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere between you. Despite your efforts to keep up appearances, there was an underlying tension that threatened to fracture your bond.

When Logan secured a seat at Williams while you remained in F2, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. Of course, you were genuinely happy for him, but there was also a pang of envy and disappointment gnawing at your heart. It felt like a piece of your own dream slipping away, leaving you grappling with a sense of loss you couldn't quite shake.

And then, just when you thought things couldn't get any more complicated, James hinted at the possibility of you stepping into Logan's shoes. The idea of replacing your friend-turned-competitor added another layer of complexity to an already tangled web of emotions. It was a constant battle between your ambition and the fear of losing the one person who had been by your side through it all.

"Yes, sir," you respond, choosing a simple response. Logan's gaze meets yours, seeming to ignite with intensity. "We keep on meeting"

In a deliberate choice of silence, Logan sidestepped any engagement with you, his eyes fixed on the team leader instead. "As I was just saying," he began, his voice brimming with confidence, "I truly believe that with these adjustments, I can improve my control over the car."

James reciprocated Logan's smile, though his gaze hinted at a wandering mind. "Sargeant?" he interrupted, signaling a shift in focus to another pressing matter.

"Yes, sir?" Sergeant replied promptly, ready for further instructions.

"We'll talk about this later. Close the door on your way out," James commanded, his tone decisive, drawing their exchange to a close.

As Logan's footsteps faltered on his way out, a pang of unease settled in your chest. You couldn't shake the guilt that crept in, knowing your success might come at the cost of his dreams.

In the relentless world of Formula One, sentimentality was a luxury few could afford. You grappled with the harsh reality that success often meant sacrificing the dreams of others. It was a something you had grappled with since the beginning of your journey, one that forced you to confront the truth that in this fiercely competitive arena, there would always be someone waiting in the wings to take your place if you faltered.

As you redirected your focus towards James, the man who now held the reins of your family's team, you couldn't help but reflect on the rarity of such a moment. Conversations with him had been few and far between, a testament to the typical hierarchy within Formula One teams where direct interaction between a team leader and a junior driver, especially mere hours before a pivotal race, was uncommon.

“Have I done something wrong, sir?” You ventured, a tinge of uncertainty coloring your tone.

"Not at all, quite the opposite actually," James responded, rising from his seat and leaning casually against the table, his arms folded. "Your stats this season are impressive—seven wins, numerous podium finishes. You've got a bright future ahead of you. But here's the thing, every day I see offers come across my desk to buy out your contract, and frankly, I find it amusing."

"Uh, sorry, I'm not following," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.

"Williams, why is it that no team seems to be able to snag you?" James clarified, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. "You're undeniably talented, but turning down offers from big names like Alpine and Alpha Tauri might not be the smartest move."

"To drive their tractor, or worse, become a reserve driver? I don't think so." you remarked with a disbelieving smirk.

"Think about it, a spot at Alpha Tauri could open doors at Red Bull down the line," James suggested, attempting to sway your perspective.

"Everyone knows they have their sights set on Daniel Ricciardo, or Liam Lawson at best" you countered, a note of frustration creeping into your voice. "I'm a bit lost here. Why are you laying all this out for me?" you questioned, a perplexed furrow creasing your brow. You knew full well the offers on the table and why you were declining them. James likely wasn't in the dark about your reasons either.

"I'm just being honest with you," He replied, his tone carrying a hint of earnestness. His hand reached up to rub his forehead, fingers tracing over the lines etched there as if seeking solace in the familiar. "We're on a tight budget," he explained, a touch of resignation in his voice. "We're short on engineers and mechanics compared to almost everyone else, except maybe Haas and Sauber. While we've made progress since last year, I can't promise our car will match up to the competition next season."

James lifted his gaze, fixing it upon you with a mixture of earnestness and concern. "I'm not one to squander talent. I know you've got your reasons for sticking with us, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to have you on board. But I can't move forward without ensuring you understand exactly what you're signing up for."

"I'm just asking for a shot, James. Just one chance to prove that we've still got what it takes," you implored, your words tinged with determination. Images of past triumphs flickered through your mind, a reminder of the team's glory days.

With a weary smile, James let out a soft sigh. "Seems like sheer tenacity runs in the family, huh?"

"They used to say I took after my grandmother," you remarked casually, a wistful grin playing on your lips.

Turning to the desk, the man retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer, his movements deliberate and measured. "What are the odds?"

You knew precisely what he was referring to. "Iwasa's already out of the running. If I take the sprint, I'll have enough points to clinch the championship."

Extending the contract towards you, James presented it as if unveiling a glimpse of what lay ahead. "Win this championship, and the seat is yours."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between you. With the contract poised like a tantalizing promise, the room seemed to hold its breath.

You reached out tentatively, fingers hovering over the document that held the potential to shape your future. The paper felt crisp beneath your touch.

"I know it's a risk, trading one rookie for another" James conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "But I believe in you, and I need someone who believes in this team."

A surge of determination coursed through your veins, bolstered by James's unwavering faith. "I won't let you down," you vowed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.

"TO TOP OFF AN INCREDIBLE SEASON, Y/N WILLIAMS WINS THE ABU DHABI SPRINT AND HAS ENOUGH POINTS TO CROWN HERSELF A CHAMPION." The narrator's voice reverberated through the sprawling circuit, amplifying the momentous declaration that crowned your achievement.

The roar of victory surged through the airwaves as your race engineer's voice erupted over the radio, a symphony of celebration. "You did it, Williams! Formula 2 champion, with one race to spare!"

Amidst the cacophony of cheers echoing from Rodin Carlin's garage, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the weight of your accomplishment settling upon your shoulders like a mantle of triumph. Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, a torrent of exclamations, gratitude, and tears that threatened to overwhelm your senses.

As you gradually eased the car to a decelerating pace, you couldn't help but feel the swell of pride and disbelief wash over you. With trembling hands, you lifted them skyward in a gesture of reverence, a silent tribute to the one who had inspired you journey.

"This one's for you, grandpa," you murmured, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of roaring engines and jubilant cheers. "I hope you're proud up there."

Amidst the jubilant chaos enveloping the pit lane, your thoughts swirled like a tempestuous storm, each emotion vying for dominance in the tumult of your mind. As you joined in the exultant cheers of your team, a sense of disbelief mingled with elation, the reality of your victory sinking in with each heartbeat.

In the midst of the celebration, you couldn't help but steal a moment to glance towards the podium, where your destiny awaited. The anticipation pulsed within you, a heady mixture of excitement and nervous energy propelling youforward.

As you ascended to the highest step, each stride felt like a triumph, a testament to the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice that have led you to this pinnacle moment. Your mind hummed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, a kaleidoscope of memories and aspirations swirling in the depths of your consciousness.

The thunderous roar of the crowd enveloped you like a tidal wave, the sound of applause echoing in your ears as you stand upon the podium, bathed in the radiant glow of the spotlight. Your chest swells with pride, your heart beating in time with the pulsating energy of the spectators.

Locking eyes with James amidst the sea of faces, you feel a surge of excitement washing over you. There's a silent understanding that passes between you, a shared recognition of the journey you will embark upon together. In that fleeting moment, as your gazes meet, you know with a certainty that transcends words— you'll be signing that contract.

With a triumphant smile, you raise the championship trophy high above your head, the weight of your accomplishment buoyed by the unwavering support of your team and your unyielding belief in yourself.

And in the middle of the bustling paddock, a blue bird chirped happily, swooping towards the girl as she lifted the trophy high. It appeared as though he'd be sticking around a while longer.

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3 | italic means i couldn't tag you) :: @formulanni @clownrrari @leilanixx @notyouraveragemochii @alliwantisadonut @oooom4rie @watermelon-sugars-things @glitterquadricorn @minkyungseokie @formulaal @itsjustkhaos @thebearchives @hiireadstuff @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cptg00s3 @welovediaaxx @eugene-emt-roe @cha-hot

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a

part two: the caretaker and the sister   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

iv. the caretaker

“gonna be real, i’m sure you know why we’re looking at you funny.” jungkook was blunt, but you had to give him kudos for it.

  “oh, why is that?” you replied dryly, 

  the way you had narrowed it down for your parents seemed more simple in your head when you rehearsed it a dozen times over before having each individual sit-down. the property was just going to rot and go to waste. it’s what grandpa would have wanted. so many sweet words intertwined with one another, but not once did you mention your perpetual unhappiness.

  explaining it to two people who were essentially strangers should have been easier, but something told you that the look jungkook was giving you hinted that he knew there was more of a story than that. on the other hand, namjoon, who was still confused by the entire conversation somehow, either didn’t care to ask or knew it wasn’t his place to press. 

  by his sympathetic glance towards your dirty duffel bag, it seemed to be the latter. he slowly came to the ground from his horse and gave you one of those sweet smiles that only a gentleman from the countryside could give. it was the same one your grandpa and jungkook had.

  namjoon gestured down the road. “need a ride into town?”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when namjoon said “ride” and then your eyes fell on the beautiful stallion that he had a gentle hand on. oh. somehow, the idea made you stomach drop and you were shocked to find that.

  “what’s wrong? we used to ride all the time when we were kids,” jungkook said, having read the expression formed on your face.

  one of the thing that your mom warned you about was that no one was going to take you seriously in the valley. your grandfather was a well seasoned farmer, as the property had been passed down for generations until your mom declined the responsiblity. and, of course, you grew up in the city and you definitely looked like it. there wasn’t another reason to add onto this obstacle.

  you shook your head. “i, uh, injured my ankle a week back. pilates.” a hollow chuckle that jungkook and namjoon overlooked and nodded in understanding. “so, it’s best if i don’t ride into town.”

  you weren’t sure why the idea of getting on a horse made you nervous. it had been many years, but there was a time where you rode more often than you walked on your own two legs. pushing the feelings away to deal with another time, there was a bigger issue at hand. the movers were likely going to make it to the farm before you were at this rate.

  “oh, no worries! stay put, we’ll come back for ya,” jungkook said, “shouldn’t take long. you’ll be okay waiting here?”

  you smiled and nodded, giving the two kind semi-strangers a thank you and off they went. 

  it was a relief that small-town hospitality was a thing. you hoped that would be the case, as you remembered amber valley to be a tight-knit community, as everyone knew each other. this left you to wonder who else you would be encountering in your new life here from your past. there weren’t too many kids your age growing up and you assumed that most of them would want to leave the valley like you did, given the lack of opportunitites. you wondered why jungkook and namjoon were still around.

  although you were just standing on the side of the road alone, you didn’t feel unsafe at all. after all, your grandpa would allow you and jungkook to roam around the town until late at night with no supervision when you were kids. there was not a single vehicle that passed by as you waited. if you hadn’t gotten namjoon’s attention as he was riding by, you were going to end up hitchhiking and probably in the wrong direction, too.

soon enough, you saw a car in the distance and you breathed a sigh of relief. a baby blue mustang, its age was apparent by the blaring roar of its engine and clank of its metal. coming to a stop, the windows rolled down and you gave a small wave.

  while jungkook sat at the passenger’s seat, there was a different face behind the steering wheel. another person around your age, you couldn’t recognize him by face, even calculating his smile that reached his eyes. however, when he opened his mouth, the man’s voice hit you like a truck.

  “hi, you’re - “

  “park jimin?” you gaped.

  the park family ran a generation spanning fishing business in amber valley and your mom was once high school sweethearts with jimin’s father. that’s why his mom was particularly snippy with you as a child and didn’t want you hanging around her son, feeding him ideas of how evil you apparently were - or so, that’s what the gossip from jungkook’s mom was. the three of you were baking cookies one day and jungkook wanted to drop some off to jimin. you went along and jimin called you a witch, so when you cried the entire walk back to jungkook’s house, his mom told you not to worry and that his mom was just a bit petty. ever since that day on until your last summer in amber valley, you declared jimin an enemy after realizing why he had done the same to you.

  jimin peered over, analyzing your face for a few seconds. beside him, you could see jungkook noticeably stifling a laugh. when the realization clocked in, jimin mirrored your slightly dropped jaw.

  he couldn’t help but laugh. “oh shit, you’re bunny.” there was no sense of resentment or snarkiness, which was surprising with your history - but, then again, this wide-eyed individual with the sweetest smile you’d ever seen was nothing like your childhood bully.

  “i remember one time you ripped all of my silly bandz. you were evil!” jimin exclaimed.

  once you got into the backseat, duffle bag nestled beside you, the atmosphere was actually quite lively. a beyonce album from the 2000s was shuffled in the background and although the road was bumpy and old, no one seemed to mind. you raised your eyebrows, trying to recall jimin’s anecdone.

  jungkook added in, “yup, you guys hated each other. i had to play peacemaker all the time.”

  “hmm…” you trailed off. “oh yeah. i think you had to physically hold me back from jimin a few times.”

  apparently, from “forcing” jungkook to eat mud and terrorizing jimin’s dinosaur silly bandz collection, you were a menace. thankfully, it was all fun and games, as the three of you exchanged giggles about being kids in the valley. slowly, piece by piece, you were grasping some memories that you didn’t even know were tucked away at the back of your mind.

  jungkook looked at you from the mirror. “you doing okay? we’ll be reaching the farm in a few minutes.”

  “where did namjoon run off to again? i was supposed to lend him something,” jimin said.

  “something about helping his dad with something, i dunno,” jungkook shrugged at jimin and then turned back to you. “he says good luck with moving in, by the way, and that he would have helped out if he could.”

  jimin sighed. “he’s always at the beck and call of mayor kim. poor guy just wants to get out of here.” you assumed he was talking about amber valley as a whole. 

  this made you a bit curious, thinking again why these young adults were sticking around the small town. the average demographic for the town was definitely on the older side, from what you saw at your grandfather’s funeral service. you ended up asking what both of them did and while you noticed jungkook go quiet, jimin piped in.

  “just helping my parents out with the family business, probably become the owner when they retire. i actually don’t mind it here and i could see myself staying here - “

  “ - that’s because you’ve never left your entire life,” jungkook interjected.

  “and it’s great! except the dating pool is a bit shallow. gotta figure that out.” jimin’s pout made you laugh and made it feel even more bewildering that this was the little brat from your childhood.

  eventually, you all drove right past the path leading into the centre of town and made a sharp turn towards another dirt path that had a singular route to your grandfather’s property. the lively air of the conversation distracted you from the confrontation due, despite your hasty acceptance of your new role. the last two weeks had been a whirlwind and you grew anxious of what it would feel like to see your grandfather’s greatest pride and joy once again.

  it’d been almost half a year since your grandfather’s passing and you prepared yourself for extensive work on the farm. there were also floating questions about the property that you weren’t sure who to ask. the property was in your name and the transition to move happened in the blink of an eye. but, what about grandpa’s other possessions? the animals? the furniture?

  the moving truck was already parked out front and checking the time on your phone, you were relieved to see that you weren’t too late past the agreed arrival time. the three of you exited the car and you gave the two men a warm smile.

  “hey, thanks for the ride. i really appreciate it, i would’ve been toast without your guys’ help.”

  “it’s no problem at all! i think it’s really cool you’re taking over the farm, keeping it in the family,” jimin replied. “plus, we’ll probably be business partners. don’t worry, my days of being a pain in the ass are over.”

  the two of you laughed and exchanged a playful handshake. meanwhile, jungkook took out your duffel bag from the trunk for you and walked over. you thanked him and took the bag from him, quietly impressed by his quick chivalry. 

  jungkook smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile just a little bit wider. “do you need help with anything, by the way?“

  “oh, no! trust me, you have definitely helped enough.” you waved him off. the neighbourly spirit was definitely strong in amber valley, but you already felt bad about having them fetch a whole car because the idea of you riding a horse was going to give you  a heart attack.

  “you sure?” jimin added.

  you said, “absolutely. the movers got most of it anyway.” you were slightly worried about exploring the property and looking at the state of it, but that was just the first task you had to take care of in your new role.

  “alright, cool. well, i hope to see you around! jungkook, you’re good?” jimin turned to the other male, who nodded. “nice. see ya then!” and just like that, jimin was off. a ray of sunshine, but seemed like the type who was always on his feet.

  you were confused why jungkook didn’t leave with jimin and then you remember he lived about a five minute walk away. that reminded you why the two of you seemed to never leave each other’s sides.

  “okay. you probably remember where everything is, but the chickens were fed this morning and - “ jungkook started and you were confused. what was he talking about?

  “wait, has someone been taking care of the farm?”

  you finally got a good look around the front and you realized everything looked. . .normal. it was exactly like how it looked in your memories, when your grandfather took meticulous care of the property. the grass was cut and emerald green, not missing a day of water. 

  your grandfather’s farmhouse had never gotten an renovation since being built and while it certainly showed, the age of the house accentuated a certain charm that only old houses gained over the years. the wrap-around porch was still in tact, despite its chipped paint. its unique bright red roof faded into a dirty maroon, losing remnants of what was your mother’s favourite colour, which your grandfather had customized the roof to match. the shrubbery around the house was overgrown, but didn’t look like it had been so for nearly half a year, indicating there was maintenance at some point between now and then.

  jungkook took a second to speak. “well, your mom was paying for basic maintenance every now and then. for the grass and stuff.”

  you didn’t know that, but you weren’t too surprised. after your grandpa died, there was really no talk about where his property was going to go. you didn’t know that he had left it to you, but you later found out that your mother was actually aware of this, but assumed you would be disinterested and didn’t say anything to you. 

  “i guess she thought i wouldn’t care about the property and took matters into her own hands,” you shrugged. “but, sorry, you said something about the chickens? and what about the fields?”

  he put his hands into his pockets. “well, you know before your grandpa passed i was helping him around the farm and stuff. i just. . .kind of continued even after.”

  you responded, “you’ve been taking care of the farm?”

  you weren’t sure how to feel. you were certainly shocked, having not understood how truly deep jungkook’s relationship with your grandfather ran. for him to come out to the farm and perform labour on his own accord, as well as the way jungkook spoke about him, there was a true sense of care involved. 

  “well, yeah. there was no one else to do it. your grandpa worked all his life to grow this place and i didn’t want any of it to go to waste. i wasn’t sure what the situation was with the property until you came today, but the animals had nowhere to go!” jungkook seemed genuinely exasperated by the situation. “don’t worry, it’s not like i’ve been profiting off of his animals. i’ve used everything just to back into taking care of the farm and it’s been just enough, since there aren’t any crops.”

  “jungkook. . .” you were left speechless. you couldn’t believe how golden of a heart this man really had to be keeping your grandfather’s memory alive, all behind the scenes and for no recognition.

  he just chuckled. “look, i’m not just glad someone is here now to get things up and running again, but the fact that it’s you. you’re the perfect person for this.”

  “am i?” you asked, looking down at the ground. you were about to fill some really big shoes and you knew it. those words of affirmation meant the world to you, suddenly feeling immense pressure on your back once actually seeing the farm in person for the first time in years.

  jungkook said, without missing a beat, “of course. you’re here because you care about your grandpa’s legacy and all the work he’s done, i can see it in your eyes. you’ll be a natural, don’t worry - i’m sure all the little things are gonna come back to you!” he was so confident and you couldn’t believe it. you could only try to hope he was right.

  “hey. . .” you began and couldn’t help but approach him. he seemed to share the same idea as you and opened his arms at the same time you did, enveloping you in a hug. neither one of you knew that the other had tears forming. “thank you, jungkook.”

  “of course. maybe it’s actually best that i show you where everything is?”

  you agreed without hesitation. after making sure that the movers didn’t need anything from you, the two of you left to embark on a quick tour of the property and its different buildings. when you were little, everything on the farm seemed so big and far and the entire world seemed to be unimaginatively endless. now, as an adult, things seemed just as daunting with the new chapter in your life, despite things not looking as big and far. 

  after an hour or so, jungkook said his goodbye and the movers had long finished their job. now, with your grandfather’s farmhouse living room filled to the brim with cardboard boxes and wrapped up furniture, you knew there was a lot ahead of you. you made a cup of tea and before getting to anything, found yourself outside and sitting criss-cross on the steps to the front door, wondering what was to come next. 

  v. the sister

there was just one grocery store in town, about half a kilometre of a walk and wasn’t going to pose any trouble for your vehicle-less self. this was your first time going into town since moving in, having been cooped up and living off of ramen noodles since you lacked the energy to go grocery shopping. friday night, after finishing work for the day and unpacking the last of your boxes, you decided to put on your big girl pants and run some errands.

  the first few days on the farm were exhausting, to say the least. thankfully, because of jungkook’s help and your mother’s contributions to the property, it was a lot less work than you remembered. you performed many of the tasks naturally, having spent summers doing the same thing over and over again. this didn’t mean you weren’t tiring come the weekend and you just wanted your trip to be a quick in and out.

  with an hour to closing, the store was basically empty and this gave you a sense of relief. you walked in, wearing stained sweatpants that were far older than you were willing to admit and your hair held up into a messy updo by a claw clip. 

  after about ten minutes, you were in the cereal aisle and deciding on if you wanted to pick out the one with the best cartoon on the cover or the one with the best nutritional value. this is when you felt something tugging on your pant leg.

  “oh..? oh!”

  you jumped slightly when you saw it was a beagle with the cutest eyes you’d ever seen. noticing the dog lacked a leash or collar or any kind, you quickly put the cereal you had been inspecting back on the shelf and crouched down.

  you whispered, “who do we have here?” your own eyes softened, as you crouched down to pet the tiny animal. 

  from behind you, you hear the sound of spongy footsteps - almost like a squeak with each step. turning around, you were met with a little girl and realized the squeakiness was coming from her hot pink light up sneakers, the kind that only ever made noise on tiled flooring. with a leash that matched the colour of her shoes perfectly in hand, her distress visibly eased upon laying eyes on you and the dog.

  “oh, peanut! oppa is gonna be so mad at me,” she gasped, immediately enveloping the puppy into her arms and re-attached the leash. looking at her, she couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

  still crouched on the ground and meeting her at eye-level, you asked, “are you okay?”

  “sorry, yeah! it just looked like she needed a second, so i took it off.” her frown, despite how distraught she was, was adorable. “thank you, miss!”

  so much for the in and out. you didn’t mind, though, as peanut approached you again and jumped up, narrowly missing your face with an excitable lick. you giggled in a way you hadn’t in a while, petting the puppy. 

  soon enough, another round of frantic footsteps followed. you looked up and weren’t surprised to see a familiar face.

  “jiwon, how many times have i told you to keep peanut leashed when we’re inside the store?”

  honestly, it was to your luck that you ran into jungkook here. after he left you at the farm on your first day, you realized you didn’t get his contact information. you were definitely considering it as he gave you a quick tour of where everything you needed was, but the idea of asking a man for his number for any given reason made your stomach jump. thankfully you didn’t need immediate assistance, save for the various things that were just broken around the property, but it would have been useful.

  clad in a graphic muscle shirt depicting a band you didn’t recognize, you couldn’t help but admire the way his tattoos were exposed and adorned his arms. you had to snap out of it. he finally made eye contact you and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

  “y/n. how’s your first week gone?”

“oppa, why are you making your voice sound like that - “

  jungkook cleared his throat. “shut it, jiwon.” you thought you saw his ears turned pink, but he adjusted the baseball cap on his head and his hair fell down to cover them.

  you looked between the two of them, confused. who was this little girl? putting the thought at the back of your mind, you opened your mouth to answer his question when two other figures began to approach.

  “hey! there you guys are - we got the cake.”

  you’d never seen so many people wear cowboy hats in one place than amber valley and this individual was no exception. he was easily one of the most handsome men you had ever physically laid eyes on - what was with this town? and of course, blue jeans. the friend beside him was also incredibly good looking, but dressed more like your neighbour from your old apartment complex and stood out against the other people you’d seen in town. apple watch, expensive nike dunks and a hoodie from an instagram streetwear brand that recently blew up.

  “who’s this?” the first man asked and his gaze made you a little more frozen than you were willing to admit.

  jungkook replied, “this is y/n. she’s taking over the old farm, it was her grandpa’s.” 

  “oh, i’m sorry for your loss. welcome to amber valley, though. i’m taehyung,” he smiled and offered his hand, which you took. “i’m new, too. i moved here last year.”

  the other man also offered you his hand. “i’m yoongi. welcome to amber valley - good luck.”

  “i’m not new - wait what?” you looked at yoongi, confused. “what do you mean, good luck?”

  the other three began chuckling amongst themselves. yoongi only looked exasperated. you raised an eyebrow.

  jiwon cut in. “yoongi says he got tricked.”

  “tricked?”

  “tricked to come here,” taehyung said, in between his laughs. “he’s from the city, something about his realtor lying to him about what the town’s like before he moved here.”

  yoongi rolled his eyes. “it’s not a joke - i didn’t know i would be moving to the middle of nowhere!”

  you learned that yoongi was a computer programmer and lived at home, worked from home, and hated leaving his home. he stayed in amber valley because on the few occasions he was forced to go into the office, it was only a short drive to where his company’s headquarters were in the next town over. 

  “i mean, it’s definitely different from the city. . .” you tried to offer, but yoongi waved it off. his friends were just amused and you could see the tiniest smile at that, so you assumed he wasn’t totally unhappy.

  meanwhile, taehyung proudly declared that he - wait for it - chose to move to amber valley. he was a novelist and moving to the town inspired the setting for the newest manuscript he was working on.

  “i love it here, it’s really peaceful,” he said.

  the last to be introduced was jiwon, whose appearance baffled you more and more when you looked at her. it was because she looked just like jungkook. and she was calling him oppa. you put two and two eventually.

  “my annoying little sister.” jungkook reached over, but jiwon instantly slapped his hand away from her head, as if on instinct. 

  there wasn’t too much surprise at the sibling you’d never met before, just a little bewildering to think a whole new human was made while you were gone from amber valley. after all, jungkook’s parents were relatively young, both the same age your own parents, who had you at nineteen. this explained two main things in your childhood, the first being why it was a no-hesitation decision for your parents to send you away to your grandfather’s care over the summer. free childcare was incredibly unreliable in the city and it was just easier for them.

  and, of course, like most kids from the valley, your mom grew up alongside jungkook’s parents. for that, it was encouraged and even expected for the two of you to eventually become friends. there was also a high level of trust because of this. out late biking with jungkook? oh, you’re with jungkook, it should be fine. left unsupervised on the fields? it’s okay, you and jungkook would look after each other.

  “it’s nice to meet you all. it’s a little weird that you have a little sister this grown now - has it really been that long since i left?” you shook your head.

  jungkook only laughed. “longest nine years of my life since this brat was born.”

  “hey!”

  “your mom did always say she wanted a daughter,” you attempted to joke, but ceased when you saw the atmosphere explicitly shift. 

  taehyung and yoongi looked away, eyes darting anywhere but the current conversation. jiwon looked like she had just seen a ghost. on the other hand, jungkook’s expression went blank. what the hell did you do wrong?  

it was taehyung who broke the silence. “hey, jiwon. wanna go pick out a card for jin?” 

  jiwon nodded enthusiastically - a little too enthusiastic. she happily skipped away, giving peanut’s leash over to jungkook, and yoongi and taehyung both left with her. 

  “i’m so sorry, was it something i said?” you blurted to jungkook, as soon as the three were out of your line of sight. what a horrible first impression you must have just made.

  jungkook said, “ah, no, it’s nothing, really. . .there is something you should know, though.” he took a second, as if preparing himself. “you see, my mom and dad passed away six years ago.”

  “what?”

  the familiar feeling of grief struck you like a lightning bolt, causing your chest to drop and you blood to run cold. you thought you heard him wrong. six years ago? your grandpa never told you this - or maybe he did and it went in one ear and out the other. you couldn’t believe it, your body frozen and detached. 

  “hey, it’s okay, you couldn’t have known.” he reached over and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, instantly calming you down at his touch. 

  you shook your head anyway. “i’m so sorry, jungkook.” you didn’t know what else to say.

  “really, it’s fine,” he broke out into a light chuckle. “it was an accident and it happened a long time ago. it’s just a bit hard on jiwon because she doesn’t really remember them.”

  “oh, i feel awful!”

  “it’s okay, y/n,” jungkook continued to assure you, while peanut just looked up at you with those big eyes.

  you still didn’t seem to find the words, as you mentally grasped at any remaining memories of jungkook’s parents. they were always around during the summer and were always so good to you. they cared for you like one of their own. jungkook’s mom always joked that you were the daughter she always wanted.

  jungkook decided to be the one to change the subject, even though you had lingering questions about his and jiwon’s situation. he told you the reason why the four of you were in the grocery store in the first place, talking your ear off about how excited he was for his friend’s birthday party tomorrow.

  “we’re throwing him a surprise party at the local pub - well, i guess it’s the only one in town,” he prattled and looked at his feet. “do you, uh, want to come? it’ll be a lot of fun.”

  you felt your cheeks turn hot. “oh, i really shouldn’t intrude - “ something about jungkook inviting you out to a social setting made you nervous like a school girl.

  “no! no, it’s no intrusion at all,” jungkook interjected, “trust me! there aren’t a lot of people our age in town and we’re all pretty close, so it’d be nice if you could meet everyone, too. jin is a really friendly person, he’ll want to meet you and make sure you’re fitting in well and everything.”

  you paused. “i don’t know. . .”

  “think about it!” he continued to insist, as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone from his back pocket. oh no. now, you were really frozen in place.

  what was it about the way jungkook made you so nervous? this was literally the little boy that used to cry if your beyblade was stronger than his. you couldn’t believe yourself.

  jungkook tapped on his phone a few time and then turned it around for you. “put in your contact. i’ll text you sometime tomorrow afternoon and see if you made your mind up?”

you did, in fact, give jeon jungkook your number. your hands were quivering ever so slightly when you did, but at least you didn’t have to be the one to ask. it gave you heavy relief that you didn’t have to be the one to text first either. but, then, you came to terms with the fact that you were certainly going to be checking your phone every two minutes for a text from the man in question. this was insane.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822@seokout @firelcrds

[mysafehaneul]

VII. AQUAMARINE (M)

CHAPTER 7: DIFFERENT PATHS SAME DESTINATION

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 11k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

ANGST, SMUT, FLUFF.

Most of our lives are spent in the search of a meaning, a purpose and often we end up looking for it in the wrong places and forget the fact that it was not about the destination, rather the journey and the people we meet along the way. Because we don’t have small lives, we just start living it a bit late. 

The corridor on the mansion's second floor was a gallery of ornate antique decorations and vases, each with its own story to tell. As Y/N walked through this elegant hallway, Noel was out fishing with the Jeon men and Joon-hee's daughter, enjoying a day of outdoor activities.

The corridor featured high pane windows framed by heavy curtains, ornate walls, and a large portrait of the Jeon family. The portrait depicted Wonwoo's grandparents sitting on a comfortable couch, with their children standing proudly behind them. It was a beautiful representation of a bygone era, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the timeless family bond it portrayed. Wonwoo's father stood behind his father, and his aunt stood in the middle, with one hand on her father's shoulder and the other on her mother's. On the other side, Wonwoo's uncle was grinning, with his eyes meeting his father's. The family resemblance was striking, particularly in the similarities between Jungkook and his father.

Y/N's gaze settled on the hands of Wonwoo's grandmother, and she noticed that the elderly lady wore the same ring that now adorned her own finger. It was a connection between generations.

"That's my mother-in-law" Y/N heard a voice behind her making her jump slightly, she turned around to see her mother-in-law standing just a few steps away, her gaze focused on the family portrait.

Sunmi continued with a smile, "Out of her collection, she cherished that ring the most." Her eyes shifted to Y/N's hands, which held the same ring.

Y/N commented, "I see, it is a pretty ring."

Sunmi looked back at the portrait and reflected, "I think more than the beauty, it's the history of the ring that held more significance."

With a turn to face Y/N, she added, "When Wonwoo's grandfather was just 11, his father sent him to her house." Sunmi nodded toward the image of Wonwoo's grandmother. "They were the family of one of the most remarkable goldsmiths of that time. Your grandparents might have known them."

Y/N replied, "They passed away when I was young."

Sunmi expressed her condolences before continuing with the story. "He used to work under her father as an errand boy then as an accountant to support his family. His own father was a loan shark who valued money more than feeding his wife and children." Sunmi's voice carried a mix of sadness and understanding. "Her father held him in high regard, perhaps because he recognized his potential. When my mother-in-law was 16, she fell in love with a local thug and ran away from home when her father found out. But, unfortunately—or fortunately, as life would have it—that thug never showed up at their decided meeting spot."

Sunmi went on, "Omonie's father was highly respected in his community. To save face and preserve their family's reputation, he decided to marry his only daughter to Wonwoo's grandfather and sent them here."

As the story unfolded, Y/N learned about the rich history of the ring she now wore. Sunmi revealed, "Abeonim hated making jewelry, but he was sadly skilled at it. This ring is the first and last piece he designed and made, created solely for his wife. He gave it to her as a symbol of his love, after confessing his feelings to her, of course." Sunmi chuckled softly, her eyes reflecting fond memories.

With a deep breath, Sunmi summed up the heartwarming tale, "She wore it until her deathbed, and much to the dismay of few people, she passed it down to Wonwoo. Funny how sometimes the things we consider as misfortune turn out to be blessings in disguise."

The conversation continued as they made their way toward the grand staircase, and the gentle sunlight filtered through the mansion's windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished floor.

Sunmi began, "It wasn't until their 30th wedding anniversary that Abeonim told me why that guy couldn't make it; he was busy getting a beating from him."

Y/N chuckled, "You were quite close to them, weren't you?"

Sunmi confessed, "Not initially, but Wooshik was very close to his parents. After my first miscarriage, our family doctor suggested I be around people, and we moved in with them. Some days were more disagreeable then previous one’s but she thought me that ties made out of love can be stronger than of blood if we are ready to bend our knees and let Love take precedence over pride."

They had strolled out of the mansion without realizing it and were now heading towards the greenhouse. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of various-colored iris flowers. These irises painted a mesmerizing display with deep purples and pale blues, their colors dancing under the gentle sunlight. Birds chirped cheerfully, and a pleasant breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees.

Sunmi, her eyes filled with memories, noted, "These are her favorite flowers." She reached out to touch a petal, gently caressing it. "She and Abeonim planted them together."

Sunmi extended her hand to touch a petal of the iris, gently caressing it. As she spoke, her eyes held a mist, like she was transported back in time. "I used to ask her how she knew that she loved him," she began, her voice filled with nostalgia. "She said, Wooshik's father is not a man of many words, but when you look at him closely, you can see his love and consideration woven into every action. Empty promises may sound sweet to the ears, but it's the actions that truly win the heart."

Y/N listened intently, her gaze lowered to the ground. Unbeknownst to her, her thoughts began to drift to the moments she had shared with Wonwoo – him holding her hand in court, refusing to leave her side at dinner until she had finished at least half her meal, sitting next to her on that cramped airplane after their wedding, defending her against Nikolai and even his own parents. These past two months had been a whirlwind, and it felt as though a lifetime of experiences had been crammed into this short time. Y/N found herself questioning when the last time she had genuinely laughed was. When had she last felt like she had someone to lean on when life got heavy?

Her eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation. As she looked up, still lost in thought, she noticed Wonwoo and Noel approaching, accompanied by Jungkook, who held Somi's hand. They were engaged in a lively conversation and carried fishing equipment. Noel sat on Wonwoo's shoulders, a beaming smile on all their faces.

"Y/N," her voice broke through your musings, "misunderstanding is that poison that can spoil even the strongest roots, especially when you pick up words that are hushed in the corners."

You realized that she knew about the disagreement that had taken place between you and Wonwoo the previous day.

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Sunmi gazed at you intently for a few moments and then confessed, "I was quick to misunderstand you, your intentions, and even the origins of Noel. I assumed, to the extent of thinking you were barren, and I even questioned the reasons you married my son. You know, I've had some bitter experiences," she emphasized. "But my son made me realize that sometimes, in order to understand someone, you have to step into their shoes, not just view them through your own lens."

She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "My heart goes out to Noel's birth parents and the struggles they must have endured to protect their child from their own family. I am grateful because of you, I am seeing glimpses of the Wonu we lost at 16 after the death of his friend Mingyu. Please forgive me, my darling. I hope we can put the mistakes of the past behind us and make new memories as a family, creating a special place for Noel in both our families and our hearts."

You reciprocated her squeeze, offering a warm smile and nod. However, your mind was racing with questions about what had happened to Wonwoo at 16 and who this mysterious Mingyu was. Underneath the guilt, you couldn't help but wonder how much it would hurt when you and Wonwoo eventually divorced in five years, as per your agreement. The guilt from the conversation with your father-in-law wasn't enough not forgetting the fact the history and rekindling of friendship between him and your mother.

You engaged in a brief conversation, Sunmi updating you on the progress she and your mother made with the upcoming Gala at the end of next month. When, her phone buzzed, signaling that it was time for her medicine and to leave the greenhouse, and you both headed out.

As you emerged from the greenhouse with Sunmi, Wonwoo spotted you and his mother walking together. His brows knitted in confusion at the sight. Sunmi waved goodbye and went in the direction of the pool house, leaving you to continue your journey.

You soon noticed Joon-hee, accompanied by Eleanor, walking together. Joon-hee's daughter, excitedly spotting her, let go of Jungkook's hand and rushed towards her mother, screaming, "Mama!" With a joyful smile, she picked her up in her arms, showering her with kisses.

Meanwhile, Noel, who had been sitting on Wonwoo's shoulders, observed the commotion and excitement. He saw you approaching and couldn't contain his enthusiasm. With a loud, enthusiastic shout, he exclaimed, "Tante!" and waved his little arms energetically. All eyes turned toward you as Noel's excitement drew their attention.

Wonwoo put down his wiggling form, and the little boy immediately darted towards you. You opened your arms, and as he reached you, he threw his little arms around your neck and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"Did you have fun?" you asked softly, your fingers gently caressing his back. The warmth of his embrace filled you with joy.

Noel pulled away from your embrace, his face beaming with enthusiasm. "Grandpa taught me how to hook a worm, and I even helped him reel in," he excitedly recounted in French.

You smiled at his youthful excitement. "That sounds like a lot of fun. What else did you do?" you inquired as you both approached the entrance where the rest of the group was standing.

Noel continued his story, animatedly sharing, "Then, Jk and Dad's hooks got tangled in the water, and they both thought they caught a fish. They started pulling, but when they saw their hooks caught each other, they started fighting. All of us just laughed, and then Grandpa scolded them for fighting and put them in two different corners."

Your attention shifted to Wonwoo as he heard "Dad?" Noel looked at you with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard. But before either of them could respond, Somi chimed in, saying, "Yes, Uncle Jk was pouting the whole time," and she laughed.

Impressed by her fluency in French, you asked, "Wow, Somi, you speak such nice French. Who taught you?"

Somi beamed with pride, responding, "Thank you. Aunt Wonwoo and Mama taught me."

Joon-hee corrected her, saying, "You mean Uncle. Her pronouns are a bit weak."

You offered reassurance, saying, "It's alright, Somi. You'll get the hang of it." The atmosphere was filled with warmth.

"Noona studied in Switzerland, right?" Jungkook asked, then corrected himself, saying, "Sorry, I mean Heyongnim."

You smiled warmly at Jungkook's question. "It's alright, Jungkook, you can call me Noona. Yes, I was mostly based in Switzerland for the last 12 years."

Wonwoo exchanged a curious glance between you and Jungkook, who playfully stuck his tongue out at him.

Joon-hee added, "Well, the four of us," emphasizing herself, Wonwoo, Jungkook, and Eleanor, "we all studied in London."

You nodded in agreement. "Yes, Wonwoo told me about that." He didn't, you read it in his file that Rachel made. 

However, the unexpected voice of Eleanor chimed in, a question that surprised you given her prior lack of interest in your conversations. "Don't you miss your friends and family back home?"

Bending down to Noel's eye level, you glanced at Eleanor with a raised eyebrow but quickly composed yourself, aware of Wonwoo's watchful gaze. "Yes, sometimes I miss my friends from the old school."

You swinged the hand you held and asked, "What about JJ and Vicky?"

He smiled and responded, "Yes, I miss them too, but I talk to them every day."

Eleanor continued with feigned innocence, "And what about your parents?" Her words cut through the air like a sudden chill, and you instinctively tightened your grip on Noel's small hand. Wonwoo, too, glared at her at the same moment, clearly sharing your displeasure. What was her problem? You were about to speak when Noel calmly said, "I do, but Tante says they are always with me," placing his hand on his heart. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded back, reassurance in your eyes.

The atmosphere grew tense, and you could see the muscles in Wonwoo's jaw twitching. Jungkook, always quick on the uptake, chimed in, "Funny how children have more sensibility compared to some adults," his eyebrow arched and a sarcastic smirk on his lips as he glanced at Eleanor. Then he reached his free hand over and ruffled Noel's hair.

"Baby boy, why don't you go inside and ask Mrs. Tham to pack your bag? We'll be leaving after lunch, right?" You looked at Wonwoo, who nodded in agreement. The tension was palpable, and it seemed like a wise decision to change the topic and move forward.

But just as he was about to do so, Somi grabbed his hand and said, "Mama, can't Noel and I have a sleepover?"

Joon-hee sighed and replied, "No, baby, we have to leave as well. You both have school on Monday."

Somi's reaction was swift, like thunder preceding a lightning strike. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she dropped to the ground, wailing loudly. "No! I want to have a sleepover with Noel! I don't want to go home! I want to have a sleepover now! Now! Now!"

"Damn, Joon-hee, your daughter definitely takes after you," Jungkook remarked.

Joon-hee rolled her eyes and snapped, "Shut up, JK."

"Kwon Somi, get up from the ground this instant!" she sternly commanded.

But Somi was having none of it. "NO! NO!!! NO!!! I WILL HOLD MY BREATH UNTIL YOU AGREE!" she declared, puffing out her cheeks defiantly.

You were taken aback by the scene. How come my child never throws a tantrum like that? You gave Joon-hee a thin-lipped, sympathetic smile. She put her hands on her hips and said, "This girl, wait till I tell your father."

"And what's he going to do? Roll on the ground with her?" Jungkook quipped.

Joon-hee glared at Jungkook, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

You crouched down to Somi's level and said, "Hey, Somi, can I tell you something?" The girl, hiccuping now, stopped her wailing and listened. "How about you first get up from the ground? It's dirty and filled with insects and germs, okay?"

Somi remained on the ground. You continued, "Come on, I know you're a good girl. If you'd like, you can come to our place and have as many sleepovers as you like. I'm sure Noel would like that, right, baby?"

Noel remained silent, which left you a bit puzzled. So he wants to have a sleepover too but isn't saying it…

Jungkook clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "How about this: let the kids have a sleepover, and we can have a little drinks around the fire, like the old times."

"No, I can't. I haven't seen my husband in the last two days, and I want to go home," Joon-hee insisted.

Somi started wailing even louder. "Oh, come on, call him here. Just ask him to drop by in his chopper," Jungkook suggested. "Hyung, come on. We rarely get together."

"Noona," he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and a pout.

You turned to Noel and asked, "Do you want to have a sleepover with Somi?" He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"What do you say, Wonwoo?" you asked, looking at him.

"I'm fine with it if you are," Wonwoo replied. These were the first words you had exchanged since last night.

"Okay, it's settled then. Thank you, Noona, you're the best. Let's head inside," Jungkook exclaimed.

"Joon-hee, call Hoshi hyung. I haven't seen him in a while!" Jungkook added.

Joon-hee retorted, "If you miss him so much, then call him yourself, you ass."

You rose up and gestured inside with your head, saying, "Shall we?" and started walking inside. Jungkook left with the bags, and Eleanor, whom you had forgotten was still standing there, followed Joon-hee.

As you were almost inside, Wonwoo gently grabbed your arm and softly said, "Can we talk?" You looked at him and then back at Noel, who was heading inside. Nodding in agreement, you told Noel, "You go in first, sweetheart."

Noel disappeared into the mansion, leaving you alone with Wonwoo. He gestured toward a picturesque gazebo nestled in the garden, surrounded by various vibrant peonies of different colors. The gazebo was adorned with comfortable couches and a small table, creating an inviting atmosphere for conversations and relaxation.

You followed Wonwoo to the gazebo, the fragrance of the blooming peonies filling the air as you both settled down on the couch.

The sun beamed down in the noon, and birds chirped melodiously in the background as you and Wonwoo settled into the comfortable gazebo. He opened and closed his mouth as if struggling to find the right words to say. However, before he could speak, your phone rang. Rachel's name flashed on the screen, and you answered the call.

"Yes, Rach? What's up?" you inquired.

"I was wondering what time you'll be here," she responded.

"Well, we're having an impromptu gathering, and the kids wanted to have a sleepover. So, in all probability, tomorrow morning," you explained, examining your nails casually. "Why do you ask?"

"I see. Then I'm sending you some files; please check them," Rachel informed you.

"Sure, I'll take a look. See you tomorrow. Bye," you replied, ending the call. Placing your phone on the table, you waited for Wonwoo to begin.

He cleared his throat and mentioned, "So, Rachel?"

"Why, curious?"

Wonwoo's gaze, filled with intensity, made you uncomfortable. "You may find it difficult to believe, but these days I find myself curious about you. Your past, your feelings, your day-to-day life. Will you ease my curiosity, Y/N?" he asked.

your palms grow slightly sweaty under his scrutinizing stare. You replied, "I don't know what to say, Wonwoo."

He gently reached for your hand but then hesitated, holding himself back. "I am sorry, Y/N, for my words last night. I know I hurt your feelings."

As you sat there, your eyes were drawn to the serene lake behind him. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you uttered,

"I don't think you can hurt a woman who has already been hurt by her own heart. I've loved a man who belonged to someone I cherished the most in the world. You just called me something that most were afraid to say out loud."

"Y/N, I—" Wonwoo began.

"Wonwoo, don't you think it's very hypocritical of me to criticize you when we're both using each other equally? To fill our voids, to soothe a guilt, punishing ourselves for something we had no control over?" you said, avoiding a direct answer.

"Don't you get tired?" Wonwoo asked, his eyes searching yours.

Your gaze met his, and you replied, "I do, but then I remember I have someone's childhood in my hand."

The wind ruffled your hair, and the sun's reflection in your eyes made you look radiant in Wonwoo's eyes. He reached out and tucked the rebel strand behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. A warmth crept into your cheeks, and you became acutely aware of the heat between you two.

"That day at my parents' house, I told them about Noella's family and even the reason why his family is a threat to him," He admitted.

"I know. Your mother told me about it, and I'm regretful of my accusations regarding their intentions. They're good people," You acknowledged.

"Y/N, you know what my father said to me today? He said, 'You can't be good at everything, but that doesn't mean you can't do anything. Just because we can't solve each other's every problem, that doesn't mean we can't understand them. I know we both have our reasons for doing the things we do, and maybe one day we'll trust each other enough to talk about it.'"

A small smile played on your lips and thought We're in too deep to go back now, aren't we Wonwoo?

"And since we're both on the same team, why don't we treat each other as one?" Wonwoo suggested.

"I like the sound of that," you replied, feeling a sense of relief.

"So, friends?" he offered, extending his hand for you to shake.

"Friends," you agreed, shaking his hand.

"Again, I'm sorry about last night. I don't know why I reacted the way I did," Wonwoo apologized.

"Hmm, I'm sorry too," you admitted.

"So, we're cool then?" he inquired.

"Wait," you scrunched your brows, "don't you want to apologize for one more thing?"

"About what?" Wonwoo looked perplexed for a moment, then glanced at your lips. "Oh, you mean the kiss."

You nodded, displaying your obvious annoyance. "Yes."

"Yeah, no, I'm not sorry about it," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You kissed me back."

"Seriously," you muttered.

"Why should I apologize for something I don't regret?" Wonwoo teased.

"You're unbelievable," you grumbled and began to march back to the mansion, leaving the laughing man and your phone behind.

As you reached the second floor and settled into your room, you realized your phone was absent. Puzzled, you retraced your steps, intending to retrieve it. However, while heading back downstairs, you happened to glimpse Wonwoo and Eleanor through the window on the second story. They were engaged in a hushed conversation, their faces close, and Wonwoo was gripping Eleanor's forearm.

Your lips tightened into a thin line, and you decided not to intervene. You continued to your room, thinking that it was time to check your emails and get back to your work. Before you entered your room, you stopped a passing maid and asked her to retrieve your phone from the gazebo where you had left it earlier.

Wonwoo was smiling to himself when he noticed your phone on the table. He picked it up, the corners of his lips curling upwards at some amusing thought.

Just as he turned to head back into the mansion, a voice cut through the air, "What's got you smiling like that, Wonnie?"

The voice that once felt like a first sip of water after walking in the desert now felt like swallowing sand. He ignored her and continued walking.

Eleanor, however, wasn't one to be ignored. She stepped in his way, a sly smile playing on her lips. "What do you want, Eleanor?"

He drew in a breath and stared down at her with a stern expression. "What we can't even talk now? We weren't on that bad of terms five months ago. Or is it that you're trying to get into good graces by playing a virtuous husband to your young wife and doting father to a little charity case? I must say, I'm loving this look on you."

His patience was running thin, and he harshly grabbed her elbow, pulling her close as he spoke through clenched teeth. "That night was one of the most regrettable nights of my life, you chose this for yourself so now live with it. You're the last person who should be talking about virtue here. Keep my wife's and son's names out of your damn mouth, because if I start, you won't have anything left to crawl back to."

Eleanor's eyes widened at the intensity in his voice. She stammered, "You have no idea who you're messing with. I am a congressman's wife."

Wonwoo let out a bitter laugh and looked down at her with pity. "The way you act, you don't seem like one. Stay out of my family's business unless you don't mind losing whatever faux pride is left in you."

With that, he shoved her out of the way and stormed inside the mansion. Eleanor gritted her teeth, vowing to herself, "You will regret this, Jeon Wonwoo."

...

...

The airport bustled with travelers from around the world. The Heathrow Airport was a massive, modern structure, filled with glass windows that allowed the daylight to stream in, and a high ceiling that made the space feel grand. Travelers scurried about, dragging their luggage, while the constant sound of announcements echoed through the terminal.

In this bustling environment, Jeonghan and Victor emerged from their arrival gate, eager and excited. They were welcomed by Victor's sister, who stood there with a placard that read, "Grooms to be." Her enthusiasm was contagious, and she exchanged warm hugs with the newly arrived duo.

"Welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice. "We have so much to do today. First, let's head to your new home, and then we have a dinner appointment with your wedding planner."

As they left the airport, Victor's sister skillfully maneuvered her way through the London traffic, and along the way, Jeonghan and Victor caught up. They discussed what Jeonghan had been up to, particularly his new thesis project.

Then, curious about their plans, Victor's sister inquired, "When is your friend, Y/N, coming?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but beam at the thought. "I plan to go there and surprise her myself, and my mother is coming too. We know it's in the middle of all the planning, but I can't wait to see their shocked faces." He interlaced his fingers with Victor's, their hands held firmly together and planted a kiss at the back of Victor's hand.

...

In a lavish hotel room on Hoxton Street, Nikolai paced restlessly, an expensive crystal glass filled with aged, amber whiskey in his hand. The glass was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, etched with intricate patterns, and the whiskey inside was a fine, aged liquor that spoke of luxury and taste.

He was in a heated phone conversation, his voice laced with frustration. "What do you mean they're threatening to cancel the contract?" His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the glass. The voice on the other end explained in German , "They're saying that if you aren't able to secure capital within three weeks, they will cancel the contract."

Nikolai could feel his blood pressure rising as he processed the information. "Did you tell this to Dad?"

The person on the line replied indifferently, "Boss says that this is your project, your problem."

Nikolai's patience wore thin. He hurled the phone against the wall in a fit of rage. His loyal lackey stood nearby, watching his boss slowly lose his composure.

"Find out where Noella's little bastard is and end him right on the spot, and make it look like an accident," Nikolai demanded, taking a menacing step forward.

The lackey hesitated, "I don't think killing the child will be beneficial."

"Say what?" Nikolai demanded an explanation.

The lackey continued, "Our insider said that, according to Ms. Noella's will, if something were to happen to her, the kid will go with Y/N. But there's no mention of what to do if something were to happen to Y/N."

Nikolai contemplated this for a moment. "But the court has a restraining order against me."

The lackey smirked and added, "But not against boss."

Nikolai's lips curled into a sadistic smile. The lackey pushed further, "That way, we can have access to all of his inheritance."

"But what about Dad? He will not agree," Nikolai pointed out.

The lackey, always ready with a solution, pondered for a few seconds and replied, "Everything takes a little convincing. I'm sure he misses Ms. Noella, especially after the death of Mrs. Bulavia. Having her child near him may soothe his pain. And this way, you will also gain his favor. As far as the restraining order is concerned, what is there in this world that money can't buy?"

Nikolai gulped down the remaining drink in his glass and grabbed the lackey's face, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You are a genius."

"Thank you, sir," the lackey said with a sinister smile.

Nikolai turned to the window, his eyes scanning the busy streets below, and he thought, 'So long, Y/N.'

...

...

Slowly, as per schedule, all the family guests left. After lunch, everyone except for Wonwoo's and Jungkook's parents, Aunt Haeri, and Lee Chan had departed. Aunt Haeri had an early morning surgery, and Lee Chan left with Mrs. Tham. Joon-hee assured you that Somi's caretaker would be there to watch over the kids, so there was nothing to worry about. However, your mother-in-law insisted that Cecilia, the head caretaker of the mansion, be there just in case to take care of Noel.

You were working in your room, engrossed in your tasks to check the proposal's file, and lost track of time. You didn't even realize when the sun settled down and the stars emerged in the sky. There was a knock at your door, and you called, "Enter." Noel appeared in the room, dressed in his nightwear. You smiled and said, "Hey, baby boy, all ready for your first sleepover?"

He looked a bit confused and replied, "But we used to have sleepovers all the time."

You gently placed the laptop on the bed and pulled Noel into your lap, saying, "Well, yes, but this is your first sleepover with a friend."

Noel nodded excitedly. "You're liking it in here, aren't you?"

He nodded and replied, "Yes, everyone has been good to me, especially Grandma and Grandpa. They even said that I can visit them whenever I like. And Somi said that I look cool when I speak French, so I help her as well."

You brushed his innocent, cerulean eyes, pushing his fringes aside, and asked, "Oh, did she now?"

You advised him with a smile, "Have fun, and no scary stories or horror movies, okay? And not too many sugary drinks before bed."

Noel protested, "Tante, I'm not a kid anymore."

You kissed his chubby cheeks and said, "Yes, yes, you're a big boy now." He fidgeted with his fingers.

Then he mentioned, "In the afternoon, when I called Uncle Wonwoo 'Dad,' you didn't mind, right? Grandpa told me that he is my dad now, not my uncle, so I should call him that."

You reassured him, "It's not about me, but about you. Don't let anyone pressure you into something you don't like. You can continue calling him 'Uncle' if you're comfortable with that."

Noel contemplated and then responded, "I don't mind calling him 'Dad'."

You smiled and told him, "If that's what you want." Then you asked, "How come you never call me 'Mom'?"

Noel explained, "Because you're Tante." You kissed his forehead and said, "And you'll forever be my baby boy. You know, Noel, if you ever want something, you can always tell me about it."

"Even throw a tantrum?" Noel asked.

You chuckled and said, "Well, not to the extent of rolling on the floor, but yes, you can." He continued to tell you about JJ, who called and is also excited about his first sleepover.

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo, whom you hadn't seen since lunch, was standing, or rather leaning, against the door frame, looking at the both of you. Noel spotted him first and hopped down from your lap, giving you a hug and saying, "Good night, Tante."

You smiled and replied, "Good night, baby boy." Noel then went to Wonwoo and wished him, "Good night, Dad." Wonwoo ruffled Noel's hair, saying, "Good night, bud. Have fun."

As Cecilia came to pick him up, Wonwoo closed the door behind him and plopped down on the bed next to your feet. You picked up the laptop again, reading the file, and he remarked, "Well, at least someone will have fun."

Your eyes were glued to the laptop as you teasingly asked, "Why is that, 'Dad'?"

Wonwoo opened one of his eyes to peer up at you from his lying position and replied with a grin, "Jealous much?"

You retorted, "Oh, please, you should be proud of me. Most women take at least nine months to make their husband a dad, and I made you one within two months."

You both shared a laugh. He added, "What can I say, words fail me. I have such a talented wife."

With a sigh, he confessed, "God, Y/N, I don't want to go."

You empathized, "Then don't."

He challenged your reluctance, saying, "You have no idea, JK will kick down this door and drag us there. He can be a little—"

"Persistent?" you offered.

"Well, he's a lawyer. What else do you expect?" adding further.

"But I wish it were just that. Jungkook's friend will also be there."

You questioned, "Congressman Lee?"

Wonwoo confirmed, "Uh huh."

"That means Eleanor will also be there," you pointed out.

He responded with a nonchalant tone, "Hmm."

You recalled their interaction earlier by the gazebo and couldn't help mentioning it, your voice growing more serious. "You weren't dreading her presence when talking to her in front of the gazebo after I left."

Wonwoo rose up from his position and stood in front of you, trying to explain, "Y/n, I swear she stopped my way. It's not what you think."

You questioned, "And what do I think?"

He was at a loss for words and struggled to explain further, "Listen, Y/n, she stopped my way—"

You cut him off with a composed response, "It's alright, Wonwoo, you don't owe me an explanation. It's none of my business."

He seemed taken aback by your response, so you continued, "So, whatever I do is none of your business."

You responded calmly, "Well, until the time it doesn't directly affect mine or Noel's life, it's not."

Wonwoo tried to test your reaction further, asking, "So, you wouldn't mind if I flirt with other women?"

You nonchalantly shrugged, your inner thoughts conflicted. The angel on your right shoulder whispered, "You're digging yourself a grave, Y/n." Meanwhile, the angel on your left shoulder cheered, "Tell him. If he doesn't mind you flirting with other men."

With a mischievous smile, you responded, "Sure, if you don't mind me flirting with other men." you can hear a small sound of someone face palming themselves from your right shoulder.

His reaction was swift. Wonwoo bent down to your eye level and lightly grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, his gaze intense as he said, "I'd like to see you try." The unexpected sensuality in his voice made your core tighten in reflex, and you couldn't help but clench at the sensation. He smirked at your dumbfounded expression, then turned to the wardrobe and took out a pair of black wide-leg formal trousers and a cotton shirt.

Wonwoo emerged after changing into his attire, his shirt fashionably unbuttoned at the top, offering a teasing glimpse of his well-defined chest. His silver Rolex Yacht-Master II watch graced his wrist, and his sleeves were casually rolled up, giving him an effortlessly stylish look. There was no denying the fact that Wonwoo was an attractive man, and the addition of his glasses only accentuated his intellectual charm.

As you watched him, you often found yourself pondering why male poets wrote pages describing the beauty of women when there seemed to be insufficient words to truly appreciate a man's splendor. Maybe it was because men wanted the world to know about the magnificence of the objects of their admiration, while women preferred to keep such treasures safely nestled within their hearts.

Caught in your contemplation, you met Wonwoo's playful smirk with a knowing smile "Like what you see?"

You refrained from entertaining his teasing and looked back at your laptop.

"Are you coming?" Wonwoo asked.

You replied, "I'll be there after replying to a few emails and checking the sheets."

He offered, "You can skip if you're not feeling up to it."

You told him, "I'll think about it," and returned to your work. About twenty minutes passed, but you couldn't shake the thought of your attractive husband outside.

'Isn't he looking a bit too good then normal?' a small voice spoke from your left shoulder. what will she do in front of her husband? The memory of her throwing herself in front of Wonwoo's car on your wedding day sent goosebumps racing across your skin. I mean, you're certain that everyone is aware of their history but 'you can't let yourself be disrespected like that if something does happens there,while you're in the same premises as them'.

Fine, you decided, "I'll attend," and in no time, you had changed into a black viscose mini dress and some comfortable Isola flat mules. Letting your hair down and applying light makeup, Within half an hour you headed to the pool house where everyone had gathered.

Jungkook skillfully mixed drinks at the bar, engaged in conversation with Congressman Lee. Eleanor animatedly recounted the story of how they once stayed past curfew to attend a Beyoncé concert.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo sat on a cozy two-seater, his legs crossed, and a glass of wine resting on his perched knee. He seemed rather disinterested in the ongoing conversation and was scrolling in his phone. Joon-hee nestled in her husband's lap, you try to put a name to the face, Ah Kwon Hoshi the two of them sharing affectionate smiles as they listened to Eleanor's tale.

Kwon Hoshi, the heir of Tiger Baby Media. It was widely known in their social circles that both he and his father were passionate about tigers, even actively supporting causes to protect these magnificent creatures.

'when did he arrive?' then you recall the loud noise of a chopper landing on the helipad outside around 5 pm. A maid, upon being questioned, informed you that Han Joon-hee's husband had arrived.

"Oh, Noona, you made it," Jungkook greeted you as you entered, the first to notice your arrival. All eyes turned in your direction, but it was Wonwoo's gaze that lingered on you. He couldn't help but gulp as you both appeared to be perfectly coordinated.

"What would you like, whiskey or wine?" Jungkook inquired.

"Whiskey, please," you replied.

"Right away." Jungkook set about preparing your drink. You settled down next to Wonwoo, who slipped his phone into his pocket and casually placed his hand behind the headrest, your right shoulder lightly brushing against his chest.

You exchanged pleasantries with Kwon Hoshi, acknowledging Congressman Lee who just raised his glass at your direction and his wife, who was giving you disapproving looks.

Amid the conversation with Joon-hee, Wonwoo leaned in and whispered in your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. "You look ravishing," he praised, sniffing behind your ear. "and smell fucking delicious."

You turned your head and whispered back, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Complimenting my wife," he responded.

If two can play at this game, you thought to yourself and whispered in his ear, "You don't look half bad yourself."

He seemed to be getting a bit buzzed. Jungkook handed you your drink, and you thanked him. Jungkook took a seat in a single chair opposite Hoshi and Joon-hee, while Eleanor and her husband sat across from you and Wonwoo.

Lee Joon-suk sipped from his glass, his eyes unfocused as he reclined in his seat, and then he started addressing you, "Ms. Y/N, you've grown into a fine young lady. I remember you when you were sixteen, accompanying your mother to the exhibitions hosted by my aunt." He turned to look at Wonwoo and remarked, "You're one lucky guy."

Wonwoo cleared his throat, replying, "Sure am."

Lee Joon-suk continued, "I heard that you both are working on a resort together." You nodded and said, "Yes, construction is underway."

He drained his glass and set it on the table. "Well, do let me know if you need any help. It's always a pleasure to be of use to a beautiful young lady."

You felt the annoyance radiating from Wonwoo, his grip tightening around his glass. To ease the tension, you placed your hand on his knee and replied, "My husband and I will keep that in mind."

You didn't miss the subtle smile Joon-hee gave behind her glass, raising her eyebrows in intrigue.

As the moon ascended higher in the night sky, food and drinks continued to flow. You had a helping of food and kept taking small sips from your glass. You couldn't afford to get drunk in front of people you had just met. Wonwoo, too, switched to whiskey. He apparently had a higher tolerance than you initially thought.

The mood was light, and jokes were exchanged. Hoshi and Jungkook began playfully teasing Wonwoo.

Jungkook grinned mischievously and quipped, "Hey, Hoshi Hyung , you remember, he used to be such workaholic he even brought his laptop as a plus one to your wedding"

Hoshi chimed in, "Yeah, man Y/N must have done some real magic, For you to agree to get married."

Wonwoo, unfazed, responded with a smirk, "Well, what can I say I had no interst in seeing him cosplay a tiger in white suit and kiss my sister every five minutes"

You couldn't help but smile at the back and forth, your nerves relaxed to the point you didn't even mind,The hand that was initially behind you slowly settled on your nape, fingers pressing lightly on your left collarbone. Your hand, which had been drawing circles on his knee, reached up to his thigh. Laughter filled the air as everyone shared antidotes from their past, and they chuckled, except for Eleanor, who remained silent, her discomfort palpable. Isn't it funny how fate works at one point where someone who used to be the most important after a time seem irrelevant.

Upon Jungkook's insistence he poured you an another glass, you weren't drunk but you were feeling a little buzzed, your back comfortably against Wonwoo's chest, his warm breath on the top of your head.

Amid the jovial atmosphere, Jungkook suddenly whined, "Guys, I'm the only one without a partner here!"

You tilted your head curiously, "Jungkook, why don't you have a partner?"

Joon-hee, ever the sharp-tongued one, chimed in, "Well, he's the jack of all trades, master of none. He's been switching partners so often that at the end, he's all alone."

Jungkook pouted and complained, "Noona, for the past few days, I've wanted someone, but she's not giving me a chance!"

Wonwoo, intrigued, asked, "Do we know her, kookie?"

Jungkook smirked and replied, "Well, not you, but Noona knows her very well, actually." Making you knit your brows in confusion. He then stumbled over to the bar, grabbed an empty wine bottle, and suggested, "Let's play truth or dare!"

Several rounds of the game later, the bottle landed on Wonwoo, and he chose "dare." Jungkook, with a mischievous glint in his eye, gave him a wicked ultimatum: eat a spoonful of hot sauce or switch to "truth" and share his most embarrassing sexual encounter.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo opted for the hot sauce. However, as soon as the spoon rested on his taste buds the pain made him realise that people can see stars with their eyes close as well. His face turned red, sweat poured down his forehead, and his eyes watered uncontrollably.

You saw Eleanor concerned face as she rose to grab the water bottle for the side but Quickly, you grabbed an ice cube from your glass, put it in your mouth, and took Wonwoo's face in your hands. You kissed him deeply, letting the ice cube melt in his mouth as your lips met his. After breaking the kiss, you looked into his eyes and asked with a smile, "Feeling better now?"

Wonwoo, still recovering from the fiery hot sauce, nodded. whatever little intoxication he felt, all sobered down you noticed his eyes slightly dilated.

Amidst the collective "ooooooo" of amazement and laughter that echoed around the room, Jungkook exclaimed, "Damn, Noona, you're so cool!" playfully teasing.

But what soured eleanor's mood further was that her husband had indulged a bit too much in the drinks. Eleanor excused herself from the group, helping her tipsy spouse as she made her way towards the door. Jungkook kindly offered to prepare a guest room for her, but she politely declined, explaining that she had a meeting with the party board members early the next morning. Her driver was ready to assist, guiding her inebriated husband to the waiting car. Her husband slurred his goodbyes to everyone.

Amid this scene, you overheard Joon-hee's sweet words as she kissed her husband's cheek, saying, "I'm so glad my baby is not a sloppy drunk." Hoshi, who had also had his share of drinks and was now sporting rosy cheeks, gave a warm, somewhat goofy smile that was reminiscent of Somi's charming expressions. It was a heartwarming moment.

It was now Jungkook's turn, you dared him to do ten shots off Hoshi's body. He whined, saying, "Noona, are you trying to kill me here?" You retorted, "You should have thought of that before you shoved hot sauce down my husband's throat," which caused Wonwoo to burst into laughter.

"So you both a team now huh?

Hoshi lay down on the now empty table, and Joon-hee lined up the shots on her husband's body. Jungkook managed to down six shots before he fell onto a two-seater couch. Out as the daylight, Wonwoo rang for the butler to assist Jungkook to his room.

You turned to find Hoshi and Joon-hee, lost in their own world, were busy making out, while you and Wonwoo sat in tense silence,

Things were getting a bit too steamy with Hoshi and Joon-hee, so you leaned over to Wonwoo and whispered, "I think it's time for us to call it a night."

Wonwoo nodded in agreement, and you both quietly excused yourselves from the room.

You were acutely conscious of his presence behind you. The flavors of whiskey and hot sauce still clung to your taste buds, and Wonwoo wasn't faring any better. His heart raced in his chest as you led the way. You held the door open for him, and he stepped inside. You followed, your against the door, trying to regain your composure, and your breaths came in measured counts.

In the stillness of the night, your hands worked swiftly to find and secure the lock, while you and Wonwoo engaged in an unspoken duel of wills. It was a contest of who could maintain the intense gaze without faltering. Your fingers danced behind the door, seeking the lock mechanism, and when it finally yielded with a soft click, the sound reverberated in the room.

The room was wrapped in a cocoon of silence, interrupted only by the gentle hum of crickets serenading the night outside. Wonwoo, with his hand extended, palm up, broke the silent challenge, offering you to take his hand. He whispered softly, "Come here."

You pushed away from the door and took a step towards him, your hand slipping into his. His warm, calloused fingers caressed your knuckles before he raised your hand to his lips, recreating the tender gesture from the first time he visited your house for dinner. His deep kiss spoke volumes without uttering a word.

Wordlessly, he turned your hand still in his and guided you towards the curtained window. With a graceful sweep, he drew the curtains aside, “you know why I always chose this room". You couldn't trust your voice at that moment, so you silently mouthed, 'why.'

He moved behind you, his strong arms encircling your waist. His warm breath tickled your neck as he answered, "Because of this."

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the breathtaking view. The path leading to the garden was bathed in subtle, soft lights. Around the irises, many fireflies danced, casting a mesmerizing glow. It was as if the stars had descended from the heavens and were scattered across the ground, creating a scene that was nothing short of magical.

"It's beautiful," you breathed in admiration as you took in the enchanting view.

"It is," the timber of his voice resonated through you, adding to the enchantment of the moment. You turned to find him already gazing down at you, a silent understanding passing between you. Your eyes danced between his eyes and his lips, and as if drawn by an invisible force, you both leaned in, closing the distance that separated you.

He captured your lips with his, and the world outside disappeared into the embrace of your shared kiss. It was a moment that needed no words, a moment of perfect togetherness under the canopy of stars and fireflies.

Your senses were ablaze as the taste of whiskey on his tongue mingled with the faint remnant of hot sauce on yours. His hands moved with a gentleness that contradicted the burning intensity of the kiss, sliding up your arms.

Time slipped away as you explored each other's lips with a fierce longing, the tension that had lingered between you all evening now ignited into a passionate flame. The heat in the room seemed to increase, and the air became charged with electricity.

Wonwoo's kisses trailed down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He whispered in your ear, "I think we've had enough games for tonight."

Your hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the contours of his sculpted chest. "I couldn't agree more."

PG-15 VERSION ENDS HERE

A/N: (After '------' this line you can read the Extra)

You felt Wonwoo's fingers deftly working at the zipper of your dress, allowing the fabric to cascade to the floor. Your bare skin tingled under his touch. His lips found yours once more, and you could taste the raw desire in his kiss.

Wonwoo gently lifted you, carrying you to the bed guided you to your knees and took a step back to appreciate your enticing appearance. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you looked up at him, your eyes dilated and filled with longing. He put his hand on your shoulder, his voice deep and sensual as he whispered, "Tell me you want this."

Your fingers deftly worked down the buttons of his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest beneath. With deliberate sensuality, you scraped your nails lightly down his defined abs, and he bit his lips in response to the electrifying sensation.

"I want you, Wonwoo," you murmured, your voice filled with desire. You rose, your lips trailing hot and wet kisses along his neck, down to his collarbones, and further, slowly descending toward his belly button. He threw his head back and groaned, overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensations you were invoking.

Looking up at him, you took in the effect you were having on him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, the heat of your mouth on his body driving him wild. You circled your hands around his waist, fingers working on his belt buckle, each touch stoking the fiery passion between you.

You unlatched his belt buckle and removed it from the hoop, letting it drop to the floor with a distinct cling sound. You were about to undo the button of his pants when his strong hands engulfed yours, halting your movements. Confusion flickered in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He gently cupped your chin, tilting your head up to his lips and whispered, "There's a lot of time for that, baby girl." His fingers brushed your hair away from your face, and he began to plant soft, teasing kisses along the path he traced: from your forehead, your left eye, the side of your nose, your cheeks, and the corners of your lips.

As your mouths met and opened, your tongues engaged in a sensuous dance, exploring each other's desires. His hands reached behind you to unhook the clasp, freeing you from the confining embrace of your garment.

His warm palms firmly cupped your chest, causing a deep groan to rise in your throat. He bit your lower lip, making you moan in response. Breaking the kiss, he used his left thumb and slipped it into your mouth, commanding, "Suck."

You obediently complied, wrapping your lips around his thumb and swirling your tongue sensually around it. All the while, you peered up at him, watching his reaction. He gazed down at his thumb in your mouth, his jaw clenching as if trying to control himself.

With a wet pop, he withdrew his thumb and trailed it down from your mouth to your collarbone, leaving a cold and tingling sensation in its wake. Finally, he reached your breast, circling and tweaking your nipple with a teasing touch. His right hand slid down your body, slipping beneath your panties, his fingers delving into your heated flesh with a firm and demanding grip.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but cry out, "Fuck, Wonwoo." Your head arched back as the intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. With deliberate intent, he tugged at your nipple and slowly pushed you onto your back, his desire evident in his every move.

He gripped the waistband of your panties and slowly removed them, leaving you completely bare and at his mercy. Wonwoo climbed onto the bed on his knees, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks flushed. He gazed at you with a fiery desire in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, his fingers trailing from your knees to your thighs. “Your spark lights a flame with me” He removed his glasses and threw them on the bedside table. Bending down, he began to kiss your neck, his lips exploring the sensitive skin below your ear. You moaned softly, your fingers digging into the back of his head, grazing the blades of his well-defined shoulders.

Descending further, he captured one of your nipples with his warm mouth, sending a shock of pleasure coursing through your body. After lavishing attention on one breast, he switched to the other, his tongue and lips setting your nerve endings ablaze. Your core throbbed, and you found yourself grinding your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find.

Noticing your struggle, Wonwoo quipped, "Is my baby girl in pain?" You shot him a glare, wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face. However, you had other plans. You hooked your legs behind him, and with a swift motion, you flipped positions, straddling him. Your bare sex rubbed against the rough material of his trousers, which concealed his evident arousal, and both of you hissed in response.

As he looked up at you, naked and sitting atop his clothed arousal, you began to move your hips provocatively, eliciting a throaty growl from him. "Fuck, Y/n, slow down," he implored, if you don't, I'll end up coming in my pants, He thought to himself.

You dismissed his words, your voice heavy with desire. "Less talking, more fucking." You moved your hips rhythmically, and he raised to his elbows, gripping your hips tightly to halt your movements. "Raise your hips," he instructed, "I promise I won't tease. I need to prepare you, love."

Without further delay, he began to give your bundle of nerves the attention they craved. His thumb circled your sensitive bud while he slowly inserted his forefinger inside you. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt your arousal building from your spine to your womb, flooding you with pleasure.

Your vision blurred, and the sensations washed over you, causing your body to tense and quiver. You bit into Wonwoo's neck, desperate to muffle your moans as your climax approached. His name became a chant on your lips, and your hips began to ride his hand, your movements taking on a mind of their own. You were lost in ecstasy, your world reduced to the pleasure that consumed you.

When he added a third finger, you gasped, and your hips twitched involuntarily. "Wonwoo," you gasped, and he whispered, "Let go, baby. I've got you."

With a mind of their own, your hips raised from his thighs, and you began to ride his hand, the overwhelming sensations driving you closer to your climax. You were too lost in your ecstasy to notice Wonwoo opened his trousers a little and brought out his member giving it a few pumps making him moan at the sight of you. But just as you were about to cross that exhilarating threshold, he withdrew his hand, leaving you gasping in shock. "WHAT THE FUck–" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, he seized your hips and thrust his throbbing member deep inside you.

Your world exploded as he penetrated you, and you screamed as he entered your most intimate depths, causing your inner muscles to clench around him. Two powerful thrusts were all it took for your first orgasm to crash over you, an electrifying wave of pleasure that sent you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body convulsed around him, and he groaned, overcome by the intense grip of your tightness.

Your chests pressed together, your foreheads touching, and he pushed up into you at a languid pace, allowing you to ride the waves of your orgasm. He paused when he noticed your furrowed brow, knowing you needed a moment to come back from the euphoric high.

With one arm, he held you up as you lay upon him, your hair cascading like a curtain over his face. He kissed your neck and nipped at your earlobe as he allowed you to regain your composure. As your heartbeat gradually returned to normal and you opened your eyes, a silly smile graced your lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing it’s just that in the afternoon you said let’s be friends”

“Ah”

In the blink of an eye, he shifted your positions once again. You lay on your back, and he knelt between your parted legs, your hips hovering in the air. “Then let me show you how good my friendship can be”,His hands gripped your supple buttocks, surely leaving marks in their wake. As he entered you again, you felt his gaze locked onto you with an insatiable hunger in his eyes.

With a husky whisper, he purred, with a wink, "My turn."

TBC.

.

.

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EXTRA:

When Jeonghan was in his first year of college, he read the concluding lines of the main character in Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night": "Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe; what is decreed must be, and be this so." He couldn't disagree with something more at the time, but little did he know how much he would have to eat his words.

Jeonghan had come to drop off a pin drive you'd left at home in your office. He was about to step into the elevator when Victor rushed in before him. In German, Jeonghan asked, "Hold the elevator, please," but Victor, who was also late for a meeting, just gestured to his watch and said, "Sorry, short on time." The doors closed with Victor inside, leaving Jeonghan grumbling and taking the next elevator.

When Jeonghan reached your office, he saw the same man showing you something in his file and making you sign some documents. Jeonghan glared at him, and the man looked a little awkward. You introduced Jeonghan to him.

"Ah, JJ, come in. Mr. Sine and I are almost done here," you said.

"Mr. Sine, this is my good friend, Yoon Jeonghan, an Assistant Professor at KIU," you continued.

"JJ, this is my new representative, Mr—"

"Mr. Short on Time," Jeonghan interrupted with a sly smile.

The air between the three of you seemed charged with unspoken tension. You, ever perceptive, sensed it and said, "Okay, why don't you take a seat, Mr. Sine? Shall we continue?"

Mr. Sine cleared his throat and agreed, shifting his attention back to you as he began to explain the contract clauses, pointing to where you should sign. Meanwhile, Jeonghan settled into a nearby couch, picking up a magazine and pretending to be engrossed in it.

Jeonghan couldn't help but notice Victor attempting to act cool about it, and, true to his petty nature at times, he decided that if two could play this game, he'd certainly be up for the challenge. For the next six minutes, while Victor stood next to you, his peripheral attention was continuously drawn to Jeonghan, feeling the weight of his stare.

...

Two days after the encounter at your office, Jeonghan found himself in a pub with his friends, passionately discussing the decline of the social sciences. They delved into the structure of society, which seemed to be transforming into a conformist matrix that stifled critical thinking and suppressed diverse voices.

Victor happened to enter the same pub with his coworker, and he immediately spotted Jeonghan. The conversation around the table focused on whether criticizing problems would lead to solutions.

Victor quipped, "What can be done? Your criticism doesn't always result in a solution."

Jeonghan, who was ardently immersed in the debate, responded, "Sometimes the journey toward finding an answer is more liberating than the answer itself."

Victor, his eyes locked with Jeonghan's, engaged in a silent battle of wits and wills, momentarily oblivious to their surroundings. Jeonghan's coworker interrupted their silent exchange by clearing his throat, prompting Jeonghan to break his gaze.

When Jeonghan's coworker noticed another person entering the pub, he excitedly exclaimed, "Oh, he's here!"

Both Jeonghan and Victor turned their attention to see an average-looking but seemingly confident guy, often referred to as a "chad" among their friends, entering the establishment.

"This is the guy I was telling you about," the coworker said to Jeonghan. "Come on, I'll introduce you to him."

Jeonghan hesitated and replied with unease, "Robert, I told you I don't want to meet new people just yet."

Undeterred, his coworker insisted, "Oh, come on, Yoon. A simple 'hello' won't hurt. It's not like I told you to marry him."

He attempted to pull Jeonghan from his chair to introduce him to the newcomer. However, just as Jeonghan was about to be dragged away, someone firmly grasped his other wrist. It was Victor, his gravelly voice and authoritative gaze stopping the coworker in his tracks.“He said no, didn’t he?”

Jeonghan's heart quickened, and he felt a tingle in his stomach. He couldn't help but be captivated by Victor's protective response, and from that moment on, the rest became history. Dating Jeonghan was no easy task, but for Victor, every moment spent with him was worth the effort.

In college, Victor's boyfriend, a literature major, once read out a verse by Charles Bukowski: "When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?"

Turning to Victor, his boyfriend had asked, "What do you think, Vic? Is it freedom or loneliness?"

Victor, who had grown up in an immigrant household where his parents and four siblings had always been busy, striving for a better life, and chasing opportunities, answered confidently, "Freedom."

Then why is it now when he walks into his house, in the same streets where he used to deliver newspapers in so he could afford some pocket money for his bus card, as he walked into his house, closing the door of his Audi and opening the door to their home, where Jeonghan's absence was strongly felt because he was away attending a conference, Victor couldn't help but feel that this moment was closer to "loneliness."

After taking a shower, Victor entered the kitchen, planning to open the fridge. However, he noticed a post-it note that read, "Warm up the lasagna and don't forget to take out the trash. P.S., don't eat my muffin."

And that's when Victor had an epiphany. … It had been three days since your wedding, and you had flown down to Switzerland with Victor. As he drove both of you to the office, you were fiddling with your engagement ring and staring out at the passing scenery.

Victor broke the silence, saying, "It's a pretty ring."

You snapped out of your reverie and looked at him, slightly confused. "The ring," he clarified, nodding toward your hand. "It's pretty."

"Ah, thanks. It belonged to my husband's grandmother," you replied.

"Heirloom, eh?"

"Yes," you confirmed with a somewhat awkward laugh.

"So, how are things between you and JJ?" Victor asked.

"Good, as good as they could get," Victor responded with a chuckle.

"Good is nice," you hummed.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Victor said, changing lanes. "I'm going to propose to Jeonghan."

You looked at him with surprise, your eyes gleaming. "And you want my blessing for it?" you teased.

"Since you and Noel are the closest thing Jeonghan has here to family, you could say that. I mean, you did play a pivotal part in our meeting," Victor explained.

"My, my, Victor, I'm flattered. Who knew you had a heart under all that muscle?" you joked, dramatically touching your chest.

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Can you pretend you don't know for a bit? You know how Jeonghan gets when-"

"He's kept out of the loop," you finished the thought with a chuckle.

You both shared a laugh. "What about his parents?" you asked.

"Well, the last time I talked to his mother, she seemed happy," Victor said.

"And what about his father?"

Victor sighed and gave you a sad smile. "Well, that's a conversation best served with drinks."

"Have you guys talked about it?" you asked.

Victor nodded. "Yes, we've discussed it. He has his whole plan ready. But don't you think everybody deserves a proposal?"

You pondered his words for a moment, gazing out the window. With a small smile playing on your lips as you fiddled with your ring, you whispered, "Yes, everybody deserves a proposal." … It had been two weeks since Noel and you left, and there were moments when Jeonghan would start yelling for "El" to come down for something before he'd stop mid-sentence, remembering that you had left. Even though you'd been Facetiming regularly, adjusting to the old routine without you as a constant presence in his life was difficult. However, the joy Noel brought to both yours and Jeonghan's lives was undeniable, serving as a living reminder of the people you both held dear.

Victor had asked Leila to arrange a basket and took Jeonghan on a day trip to Lake Lungern. During the two-hour drive, Jeonghan's antsiness grew as he repeatedly asked, "Are we there yet?" Victor's patience was wearing thin.

As they approached their destination, Jeonghan's anticipation grew. "Oh, my Vicky, you didn't!" he exclaimed as he took in the stunning view. This place held sentimental value as it was where Jeonghan had taken them for their first date before it became a hotspot.

Victor was driving and couldn't drink, but he wouldn't have minded a glass of wine to calm his nerves. His heart raced, and he had cold sweats accumulating on the back of his neck. He finally brought out a blanket and a picnic basket.

Jeonghan commented, "Ah, ever since I came back from the post-doctoral program, I haven't had time to catch a break. Thank you, Vicky."

"Anything for you, Dr. Yoon," Victor replied.

"Please don't call me that in public," Jeonghan joked.

They laughed together, and Victor felt the love in the air as he looked at Jeonghan with adoration in his eyes.

After a moment, Victor cleared his throat. "Jeonghan, we need to talk."

Jeonghan's heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. "Do you ever wonder where we'd be if we hadn't met at Y/N's office nine years ago?"

Jeonghan looked at Victor, then at his fingers, and shook his head. "No, not really. You?"

Victor stood up and walked towards the lake, surrounded by flowers. Jeonghan followed closely, waiting for his answer. Victor took a deep breath and began, "I've never felt the need to wonder, and even imagining a life without you terrifies me."

He turned to face Jeonghan and extended his hand. Jeonghan placed his hand in Victor's, listening intently.

Victor continued, "Yoon Jeonghan, meeting you made me realize what living feels like. You breathe life into my soul. My mother used to say that there are no accidents in life. Even the rustling of the leaves due to the wind is written in the stars before the seed of that tree came to exist. I used to think it was absurd, but now when I look at you, I thank the stars for aligning our fates. I want all your mornings and nights. I want the privilege of growing old with you. I want your rants and all your moods."

Jeonghan interjected, "I'll become more critical of some of your choices."

Victor chuckled and said, "Jeonghan, I will love you even if you become the next Karl Marx."

Jeonghan laughed, "No, thank you."

Victor continued, "You do what your heart desires, and I'll be rich for the both of us."

With those words, Victor took a platinum ring from his pocket and asked, "Dr. Yoon Jeonghan, will you marry me?"

Jeonghan's tears welled up, and he was overwhelmed by emotions. He'd rarely cried in the past, but watching the love of his life profess his love and commitment to him brought forth an unstoppable flow of tears.

He managed to joke through his tears, "Do we really need to involve the government in our relationship?"

Victor, with tears in his eyes, slipped the ring onto Jeonghan's finger. They shared a tight hug, foreheads touching, lost in their bubble of love as the sun set and made way for a new beginning.

Jeonghan admitted, "When you said we needed to talk, I thought you wanted to break up with me."

Victor replied, "I would question why you'd even think that, but right now, I just want to kiss you."

And so, as the sun set in the background, they kissed, sealing their love and commitment to one another.

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

A/N: Phew this took me FOUR days to write. I want to thank everyone who showed support and reminded me that just because something does not have a lot of admirers does not mean it is not worthy of love, time and effort. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and meet you all with the next one.

xxx

MSH.

[tessenpai]

Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 128.5 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans: (I recommend the use of an adblocker to avoid NSFW content) https://klz9.com/jxsh-kono-oto-tomare-raw-chapter-129.html

Page 1

Isaki [thoughts]: On my 27th winter

Isaki [thoughts]: My father passed away.

Side text: The story of how Chika and Isaki met...

Gen [memories]: If something were to happen to me...

Gen [memories]: Please take care of Chika.

Isaki [thoughts]: ---To me

Chika: Whatever. I don't care.

Page 2

Chika: I don't give a shit what you think of me. Not anymore.

Side text: When his grandfather died, his heart did as well---...

Isaki [thoughts]: He left only one request.

Chapter title: #ex [first light]

Page 3

Isaki [thoughts]: ....Whaaa---... No no, you can't be serious... This? You left this to me??

Gen [memories]: His eyes have been full of kindness lately.

Isaki [thoughts]: Where??

Isaki [thoughts]: Those are not the eyes of a child. Normally, it would've been impossible.

Isaki [thoughts]: Something like this... I've never even raised a child before, this is way out of my league---...

Isaki: !!

Isaki: Eh? Wai- Where are you goi--

Chika's father: Leave him!!

Isaki: Still...

Page 4

Gen [thoughts]: I leave it to you.

Isaki [thoughts]: Really, you ask too much...

Isaki [thoughts]: Wow.

Isaki: Excuse me, could borrow an umbrella?

Employee: Go ahead.

Isaki [thoughts]: He couldn't have gone too far yet but... Where should I even look for him?

Isaki [thoughts]: In a place that looks unsafe?

Page 5

Isaki [thoughts]: What should I do if he got in a fight again?

Isaki [thoughts]: There he is...

Isaki [thoughts]: For now, let's just call out to him. He will probably reject me but... Wait, if I get rejected, is there anything I can do after that? We've just met, so... The most practical thing for me to do would be to go back and call my brother.

Page 6

*No text*

Page 7

Isaki: ....Oh. Um...

Isaki: ...

Isaki: ...Do you know who I am? I'm your father's younger sister.

Isaki: Dad... Did Grandpa ever tell you about me?

Chika: ...

Isaki: About my brother... I think he's just a little bit preoccupied right now, so… maybe you should talk to him when he's a bit calmer and...

Chika: It's fine.

Chika: I really couldn't care less about that.

Page 8

Isaki: What? But...

Isaki [thoughts]: He was crying so hard just now...

Isaki [thoughts]: ...Ah.

Isaki [thoughts]: ...I see...

Isaki: You... Truly loved Grandpa.

Page 9

Isaki: I think the time Grandpa spent with you was really fun and joyful to him.

Isaki: I think you made him happy.

Isaki: For being with him until the end... Thank you.

Chika: !!

Page 10

Chika: u... ugh.

Isaki [thoughts]: ...Aaah.

Isaki [thoughts]: Can't do.

Isaki [thoughts]: I definitely

Isaki: Chika

Page 11

Isaki: Come live with me

Isaki [thoughts]: I can't leave this child alone.

Isaki [thoughts]: ---That was

Page 12

Isaki [thoughts]: The beginning for Chika and me.

Isaki: We haaave arrived! This is my humble abode--!

Isaki: The bathroom is over here--- And over there---

Isaki: Who would've thought you could do that...

Chika: What?

Isaki [thoughts]: He is surprisingly well-behaved.

Isaki: Here, this is my room---...

Sfx: Clack...

Page 13

Isaki: If you enter, I will beat you up ☆

Chika: ...

Isaki: Next up is the living room.

Isaki: And finally-- Your room!!

Sfx: Ta-daaaan

Chika: ...

Isaki: You got nothing to say about it...?

Chika: I'm fine just with a place to sleep in.

Isaki [thoughts]: I was just kidding... I planned on partitioning the living room to create a room for him but...

Isaki: ..............Whatever, I guess.

Page 14

Chika [Sfx]: Look around

Isaki: Hm? Are you looking for something?

Chika: ...I was just thinking that there aren't any kotos around here.

Isaki: Aah.

Isaki: I used to play it a little a long time ago. Now, not at all.

Isaki: My job is related to events so I sometimes get exposed to it from time to time.

Chika: Hmmmm.

Isaki: What, did you want to play the koto?

Chika: Nah, I can't play.

Isaki: Is that right? My fathe... Grandpa told me on the phone before

Isaki: "Chika played the koto!" He was so happy when he said that.

Page 15

Isaki [thoughts]: ----Ah.

Chika: ...Hmmm.

Isaki [thoughts]: His eyes light up as soon as Grandpa is mentioned

Isaki [thoughts]: That's probably his true self...

Sfx: Ruuumble

Isaki: ...Did you hear that?

Chika: ...Well, yeah.

Isaki: That's because I'm hungry. It's almost six, let's have dinner.

Isaki: What do you want to eat? We can go eat out or order delivery---

Chika: I don't need anything.

Page 16

Isaki: ...What?

Chika: Food, I mean... I'll be fine even with little food.

Isaki: What are you even saying??

Chika: It's enough if you just lend me a place to sleep.

Chika: I don't plan on coming for anything except to sleep.

Chika: Today I will also go somewhere else until night hits.

Chika: About my clothes... I would be thankful if you let me leave them here.

Isaki: I will make it.

Chika: ------Eh?

Isaki: Today, Isaki-sama, for your well-being, from the bottom of her heart, will cook for you. So eat. Until there isn't a single crumb left.

Page 17

Isaki: Right now, the only things I have in the fridge are water, alcohol, and snacks. I gotta do some shopping.

Chika: Eh? Wai-

Isaki: Ah, are you coming with me?

Chika: If there's anything you need, we can buy it.

Chika: ...Well, no ...There's really nothing.

Isaki: That so? Well, just stay at home then.

Chika: !

Chika: ...

Isaki: What, you coming then? Is there something you want?

Chika: ...There's nothing, really...

Page 18

Isaki [thoughts]: Yeaaaaaah, I don't get it.

Isaki [thoughts]: He is following me, but he is so far away.

Isaki [thoughts]: Well, you know? Of course, right? From a junior high school student's point of view, a woman around 30 years old is considered an old woman, right?. I'm sure it's embarrassing to walk around with one, right?

Isaki [thoughts]: I totally bought too much.

Isaki [thoughts]: Whatever--- It's just a 5-minute walk...

Sfx: Grap.

Page 19

Isaki [thoughts]: Oh?

Isaki [thoughts]: Ooooh...?

Isaki: Wai- At least let me carry one of those.

Chika: ...

Isaki: Hey!

Chika [Sfx]: Power walking

Isaki: Wha-!?

Isaki: Wait right there! Hey!!

Isaki: Don't ignore me!!

Isaki: Listen here!! I get that you don't want to walk with me but

Isaki: That kind of thing is still hurtful, you know!? I'm grateful you are carrying the bags, though!!

Page 20

Chika: Ah, no.

Chika: That's not... it.

Isaki: Come again?

Chika: ...Did you see how it ended up? Gramps house, I mean.

Chika: It'd better for you not to be seen around me.

Page 21

Isaki: Are you underestimating adults?

Isaki: Gramps house? Yeah, I took a good look at it with these two eyes. It was the worst among the worst.

Isaki: I think the people who did that are really shitty kids. And you're a fool for hanging out with them.

Page 22

Isaki: When I first heard about the incident, to be honest, I was super pissed with you.

Isaki: I thought it was too much trouble, I wanted nothing to do with it.

Isaki: But once I actually met you, you were only a child crying for the death of his grandpa.

Isaki: You have reflected and regretted. But you are still someone who hasn't learned how to look forward, at all.

Isaki: Don't you dare try to put yourself in front of me to try and protect me.

Page 23

Isaki: There's no way I will run from some brats who try to belittle my nephew.

Isaki: I will use my power as an adult to turn the tables on them-

Isaki: So you can rest at ease, and walk beside me. And every day, you can come home normally!!

Isaki: Do you understand!?

Page 24

Isaki: Come on, let's go.

Chika: Carrying it like this is embarrassing....

Isaki; Oh, is that so? Let go, then, and let me carry these heaaaavy bags all on my own.

Chika: Ugh...

Chika: ...

Page 25

Isaki [thoughts]: That night

Isaki [thoughts]: For the first time in several years I cooked

Isaki [thoughts]: A fucking disgusting A slightly different curry

Isaki [thoughts]: Chika did exactly as I told him.

Isaki [thoughts]: And didn't leave a single crumb.

Page 26

Isaki [thoughts]: He is more honest than I thought.

Isaki [thoughts]: And he is extremely clumsy.

Isaki [memory]: ----Eh? You don't want to go to high school and want to start working directly instead? Is there a work you are interested in?

Chika[memory]: There's nothing like that but, normally I would have to pay rent, and earn my living. I wanna pay for it.

Isaki[memory]: What, now?

Isaki[memory]: Your father will be paying for all your expenses, isn't that obvious?

Isaki[memory]: You don't want to depend on your father?

Chika[memory]: Ugh...

Isaki[memory]: Well, is not like I don't understand where you are coming from, but.

Page 27

Isaki [memory]: If there's anything you can use, use it.

Isaki[memory]: If you can rely on something or someone, do it.

Isaki[memory]: There's nothing to be embarrassed about.

Isaki[memory]: For once, forget about things like money and whatnot. Just think about what you want for yourself.

Isaki[memory]: But if after that, you still want to work, then I will support you.

Chika [thoughts]: ...What I want for myself...

Chika [thoughts]: ..............

Chika [thoughts]: I have no clue--... I don't have a hobby or any kind of special talent. Nothing.

Page 28

Chika [thoughts]: ...Truly. I really have nothing.

Chika [thoughts]: Nothing...

Gen [memory]: Chika!

Isaki [thoughts]: I'm home---

Chika [Sfx]: Stare

Isaki: Eh? What is it? You are scaring me.

Isaki: What, did you break something?

Chika: I didn't break anything.

Isaki: What is it, then?

Page 29

Chika: .....

Chika: Ther-

Chika: There's something I... Want.

Isaki: ! What is it?

Chika: ----------

Chika: Pi- picture...

Chika: I want a picture.

Chika: ....Of Gramps.

Chika: I

Chika: Don't have even one... so.

Page 30

Chika: If it's not doable, that's fine.

Isaki: Eh- no-! It's totally doable!!! Pictures, huh! I will bring them over!

Isaki: These are albums.

Chika: Are these all Gramps'?

Isaki: Well, there are also other family members in them.

Isaki: You can grab whichever picture you like.

Chika: ...Thanks

Chika [thoughts]: Oooh...

Page 31

Chika [thoughts]: Around this age, I can already tell it's Gramps.

Chika[memory]: Koto club? What's that, a club where you play koto?

Gen [memory]: Yeah. I was the founder of the Tokise Koto Club!

Page 32

Chika: ---...This.

Isaki: Hm? Ahhh, that's a picture of when the Koto Club was first founded.

Chika: ...Does this club

Chika: Still exist?

Isaki: If I remember correctly, it's still there, but----

Gen [memory]: Do you want to give it a try?

Gen [memory]: Haha, you are pretty good.

Gen [memory]: You actually seem pretty talented.

Isaki [memory]: "Chika played the koto!" He was so happy when he said that.

Page 33

Isaki: -----...

Isaki: Did you find what you want to do?

Page 34

Chika: I wonder if it's too late for me to aim to go to high school.

Isaki: Well, that depends on how much effort you put on i---

Isaki: Wait a second!! You have to submit an application form for the entrance exam! When is the deadline!? It's already December!!

Isaki: Will we make it on time?

Chika: I will go ask Tetsuki!!

Isaki: Eh? Who is Tetsuki!?

Chika: It's ok! I will make it on time!! If I tell Tetsuki, it will be fine, for sure!!

Isaki: Ok, but who is Tetsuki!!??

Chika: Uh... I

Chika: Will go to Tokise and

Chika: I will join the Koto Club Gramps created!!!

Page 35

Isaki [thoughts]: Thank you, Dad. For leaving a light for Chika.

Isaki: That's great!!

Isaki: Well then, from now on, it's full-time studying!

Chika: Starting tomorrow I will ask Tetsuki to help me study, so I will pass for sure!

Isaki: What the hell is a Tetsuki!!!???

Side text: I hope this sound reaches the heavens----...

Isaki [thoughts]: Chika won't lose sight of that light, and this time I will be right beside him.

Isaki [thoughts]: Please, look after us.

---Kono Oto Tomare! will continue in the next issue---

[wandering-winchesters]

Grief

Summary: The reader loses her grandfather and eventually seeks comfort from Dean.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,576

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Death, Casket, Grief & Sadness

A/N: This was written mainly for me. The man in this story was based on my grandfather and the memories recounted are my own. I understand if this is not the type of story for you, but it helped me in my grief. Love always x

In the span of two minutes, in the early hours of my otherwise normal Wednesday morning, my world changed forever. Blinking away the fog of sleep, I reached for my phone that was ringing loudly on the nightstand. My cousin’s name was flashing on the screen, a number of missed calls showing in the background a signal of a bigger issue. I hurriedly accept her call, clearing my throat to enable my voice to speak louder than a whisper. 

“Hello?” The words that would follow would break my soul in ways that I didn’t know possible. 

“He’s gone, Y/N. He passed this morning.” Anything said after that I didn’t hear, I couldn’t process that my grandfather was gone. The call was ended and I sat frozen still tangled in my sheets. The warmth of the blankets no longer enough to replace the chill that had overtaken my skin. Before I knew what I was doing, I climbed out of bed and grabbed my duffle. Beginning the process of packing the bare necessities to get by, the need to get to him was suffocating and pressing in on me like a vice. 

Not twenty minutes later, I closed the door to the bunker quietly behind me. I double checked that it was locked, before climbing into the drivers seat of my truck and throwing my bag into the passenger seat. I shot Sam and Dean a quick text, letting them know I was leaving for a few days and not to worry, even though I knew the text would not be enough to convince them of such. The reality of the situation still had not settled, I knew he was gone, but it just didn’t seem possible. I have hours of road ahead of me and focusing on his death was just not an option. The drive crawled by, every mile felt like ten. Every minute an eternity. I was greeted by family, friends and an overwhelming sense of grief. Yet no tears fell, anger was prevalent and boisterous, denial following in its sharp footsteps. Every intended encouragement of “He’s in a better place,” or “He’s no longer in pain.” Only aggravated my anger. Those words meant to comfort and ease my pain, only ignited it further. Everything I saw in his home, reminded me of the good old days. The times spent in the woods bird watching, or in his workshop creating something new and beautiful. The nights where he would sit and hold my hand, singing songs from when he was younger. I found his journal, read the words he had written and saved them for another time the pain too much to bear. 

I had many missed calls from the boys, their texts growing more and more concerned as my silence grew greater. Their demands for an explanation only made my desire to ignore them more prevalent. Even though, I knew deep down they were just concerned for my safety. The days passed quickly, the funeral looming closer and closer. The grip that grief had on me was looming, it was as a reaper themselves had their icy hands wrapped around my lungs and throat. 

Funeral homes were something that I frequented, many of the cases with the Winchester men ended up in a morgue or a funeral home. I had seen countless dead bodies, in many different forms. However, the morning of the funeral walking into the funeral home, seeing the man who raised me was so very different from every time before. There were many people who loved him that came to show their support, a blur of faces and a mass of stories, he had been so very loved. Yet every minute I stood there was soul shatteringly painful. It was exhausting, my body ached almost as much as my heart. I resorted to every self soothing technique I knew, bracing myself for the next person in line that was waiting to share their grief with me. Yet I survived, I made it through to the end. Everyone else had gone home, yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave his side. I could feel his presence surrounding me, embracing me. I bite my lip, holding back the sobs that have been at bay for days now. The ache in my chest so great it brings me to my knees. 

I am caught off guard by familiar strong hands gripping my waist, fully supporting my weight. Dean’s cologne wafts over my senses and the smallest amount of relief floods over me. 

“You don’t have to keep hiding your pain, sweetheart. There’s no shame in crying.” He whispers, tugging me back against his body and wrapping his arms around me. I am so overwhelmed and confused as to how he came to be here, that his words go almost unheard. 

“How did you know I was here?” I ask, clearing my throat to relive the ache ever so slightly. 

“I pinged your phone, found your location and checked the local paper. I figured there must be something going on, especially if you told us you were leaving but then wouldn’t tell us where or why. I found his obituary and drove straight here. I’ve been outside for the last few hours, I wanted to give you space. I noticed everyone else leaving, but didn’t see you. So I came to find you.” His voice is soft, comforting and it awakened the sadness within me that I had refused to allow space for until this moment. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes and silently began to fall. 

“Dean, I-I didn’t want you to see me like this, the weak, crying side of me.” I said, my voice cracking slightly as I spoke. My cheeks heating up as they turn bright red. 

“Y/N, I know it hurts. It’s okay to cry, I’ll be here to wipe your tears, sweetheart.” He says, his thumbs rubbing circles into my skin as he continues to hold me tight against him. I take a couple of steps towards the closed casket, Dean close behind me, his hand securely placed on the small of my back. I rest both of my hands on the lid to the casket and let every emotion free. Before I can stop it, a sob leaves my lips, tears are falling hard and hot. I have never cried like this, I have never felt pain like this. The guttural reaction it pulls from me, is something that I have never experienced before. My vision is blurred by the tears collecting in my eyelashes. The mascara and eyeliner I had applied earlier in the day, surely streaking black remnants down my face. 

“I couldn’t grieve him, De, I had to be strong for everyone else. They were all relying on me to plan this and put everything together. I didn’t have the time to grieve and now I have to say goodbye. I’m not ready to say goodbye.” I get the words out between sobs, turning to bury my head in Dean’s chest, swallowed up in his embrace. He immediately wraps his arms around me once again, his head coming to rest against the top of my own. His lips brushing against my hair as he murmurs words of comfort, pressing a kiss every so often. 

“I’m here, I’m always here.” He whispers once I pull away, he brushes my hair out of my face and caresses my face with his thumb. It’s not until that moment, that I see Sam, he’s sitting silently in the corner of the room. Waiting to offer comfort, but not wanting to encroach on Dean and I. The second our eyes meet, I burst into tears once again. The ache in my chest heavy, surely if I were to die of a broken heart this is what it would feel like. Sam quietly crosses the room and pulls me into his arms, his embrace just as warm and welcoming as Deans. 

“I am so sorry for your loss, Y/N.” He says, his grip tightening momentarily before he lets me go. Dean offers me his hand and I gratefully accept it, allowing him to guide me outside. I steal one last glance at the closed casket and follow him closely. 

“Can I drive you home, sweetheart?” Dean asks, hesitating outside of my truck, his eyes soft and concerned. I nod, not trusting my voice to give a verbal response. He helps me climb into the passenger seat of my truck, and gently shuts my door. I let my head fall back against the seat and my eyes flutter shut. I hear the drivers side door open and feel the truck shift as Dean climbs in and adjusts the seat to his liking. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t know how.” I open my eyes and glance over at him as he starts the truck, he gives me a small smile and extends his arm resting his hand on my leg. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I understand completely.” We ride in silence for awhile, my mind a constant rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions. My tears have stopped and everything other than my thoughts are quiet. There is rain hitting the roof of the truck, the tires are crunching against the gravel, but the only other sound is Deans fingers lightly tapping against the steering wheel of the car, keeping rhythm to whatever song is playing in his head. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks, breaking the silence. I hesitate, trying to gather my thoughts into an actual sentence, instead of the dark depression that is swirling around in my head. 

“Just remembering, the good times.” I say, a small smile breaking the surface of my lips. 

“Care to share?” He asks, his eyes flitting back and forth from the road to my face. I chuckle softly, the memory in my mind floating through my head as an image. 

“Okay, so you remember how my grandparents were together? My grandfather was always super flirtatious towards my grandmother? Well, this one time she was in a bad mood and he was trying to get her to laugh. So he took two balls of yarn, from her knitting project, stuffed them under his button down t-shirt and proceeded to parade around as if he had really big boobs. My cousin and I found it hilarious, my grandmother on the other hand was pissed. Well, for a few minutes, until she finally relaxed and laughed about it. I have the picture printed and hanging in the bunker?” Dean laughs, the clear and deep sound pierces the air around us and I relish the way it hangs in my ears. 

“Do you have anymore you want to talk about?” He asks again, a slight twinkle in his eyes. I think for a minute, weeding through the memories in my head, some more clear than others. 

“One time, after he got sick, he had this woodworking project that he wanted to do. He had all of these buildings on the farm filled to the brim with different types of wood, all different colors and ages. We spent no less than four hours, walking around so he could find just the perfect pieces for his project.” 

It went on like this for awhile, I talked and Dean listened. He let me go on about how my grandfather would always shift the car into neutral when stopping at a stop light, how he would eat cranberry mousse on top of his pumpkin pie at thanksgiving. How he would sing my name as a greeting anytime I called him, or sing the numerous different old jingles from old toothpaste brands or other household products. How much I loved to hear him talk about anything and everything, from the weather to the stock market. The time when I was little, that he took me to a Poinsettia greenhouse that was a four hour drive and he just loved every minute of it. He was just so special and everyone loved him. 

I grow quiet again, the rawness of my grief pulsing within me. Through all of this, exhaustion is creeping up within me. I scoot over the bench seat, getting as close to Dean as the truck will allow and rest my head against his shoulder. My intention was not to sleep, but just to close my burning eyes and seek the slightest comfort. 

However, I fell asleep. Only realizing this when Dean opened the door to the truck and eased me into his arms.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” I open my eyes slightly and he shushes me. 

“It’s okay. you needed it, and you looked too peaceful for me to wake you up. Close your eyes, I’ll bring you to bed.” He says, pressing a kiss to my forehead and tucking my head beneath his chin. I do as he says, closing my eyes and allowing the sound of his breathing and the smell of his cologne to overwhelm my senses. I can hear him cross the threshold of the bunker, whispering something to Sam who had driven the Impala back. He makes his way to my bedroom, gently kicking the door open with his foot and closing the distance to my bed quickly. He gingerly sets me down on the sheets, pulling the blankets up over my skin. I open my eyes once again, taking in the sight of the tall older Winchester in front of me, grateful for his friendship and the love he has shown me in this dark time. “Get some sleep, sweetheart, I won’t be far.” He presses another kiss to my skin and turns to leave my room. Fear grabs hold of me and before I can thing, I speak. 

“Dean, will you stay, please?” I whisper, a sob clawing its way out of my lungs. He sighs, not a sigh of frustration, but of empathy. He nods silently, climbing in beside me and gently tugging me against his chest. He wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss against my forehead. 

“It’s not gonna hurt like this forever. It will always be there, but your life will grow and it will hurt less. I promise, Y/N.” He says, stroking my skin gently. The comfort leeching from him, something I needed from the day I got that phone call. I let my eyes fall closed, trying to block out every thought and just exist in this very moment, surrounded by a man who would do anything for me, who would love me unconditionally and always let me be true to my emotions. 

Dean was right, life went on. Even though some days, I wanted it to slow down more than anything, I wanted the world to stop so I could just exist in my grief. I wanted to go back several years before, take more pictures, listen to more of his stories, take more videos of him singing. I longed to hear his voice just one more time, ask him one more question. Instead of focusing on what I couldn’t do, I focused on what I could do. I noticed the birds more, some of his favorite creatures. I watched more sunrises and sunsets, embracing the beauty around me as he would have done. I will always remember the days we had together, I will always long for more. For now though, I will grieve. And that’s okay. 

Tag List: @roseblue373 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @mishreem

@hunterscabin This contains some memories of my grandfather, I hope you will read them. <3

[bruhstation]

after studying the blade and honing my thinking skills, I've perfected the haddock/billington family tree. or as I like to call it -- the joestars of bruhstation, because Things Just Keep Happening™ to its family members. I highlighted the people who have canon appearances in their respective source materials.

a few explanations of the relationships:

zorran is zip's guardian. they don't view their relationship as strictly brothers or father-son or whatever, but they consider each other important; family. if it weren't for zip and taking care of the boy, zorran could've become an even worse person (thanks, captain zero). also, found families don't necessarily need labels. they know they are important to each other, and they're content with that.

captain zero is supposed to be zip's guardian but he's busy being both a mid father and a mid boss. so he handed him to zorran and zorran took the wheel, albeit begrudgingly at first.

zorran eventually started a family of his own. his great granddaughter is emily (theotug/stanza halifax). his grandson is diesel, thomas' coworker (see the vin diesel family tree), technically making them very VERY distantly semi-related through zip. not really important though.

after zorran moved back to sicily, italy, he still kept in touch with zip through letters. zip also managed to visit his funeral when zorran eventually passed away.

ten cents and zip moved to england and adopted three children after world war 2 ended. they're in their mid 20s by then. they passed away when the kids were young adults. without their parents, they had several disputes over money and properties. they eventually separated. margaret stayed in london while annie and clarabel moved to sodor because of how brochures, magazines, and history books label it as "unique" and "quaint".

timothy is honestly kind of a mid brother. after he and thomas' parents died, he dragged thomas to sodor (reasons same as annie's and clarabel's), shields him from the outside world, and makes thomas completely dependent on him (he did this unconsciously) because timothy didn't want to lose anyone else. then he died and became sodor's ghost. cue casa tidmouth

annie and clarabel eventually took care of thomas.

annie married graham stroudley, but they divorced when cheryl was a teenager/young adult. graham took custody of cheryl and married lucy. cheryl moved to canada and married christopher. theodore was born. by blood relations, theodore is annie's grandson as much as he is to lucy, but he has extremely little to no memories of her.

looking at the family tree. thomas is ten cents' grandson. ten cents is thomas' grandfather. theodore is thomas' first cousin once removed (vice versa) and TC's great grandson

not really canon, but entertaining the idea that ten cents and zip are watching from the skies: ten cents and zip would absolutely adore theodore. teddy is just some sweet kind polite guy who does his best and cherishes his loved ones and that's what ten cents and zip stood for. thomas, on the other hand,

[swampgh0stt]

art by: @stardustrobin

The Slash of 23

Their curiosities and excitement had gotten the better of them. Perhaps next time, they’ll listen when their father says not to wander off. 

If there was a next time. 

Both girls cowered in the corner, trapped and hugging each other. Their only exit was blocked by the monstrous rabbit animatronic, which lumbered closer. Brooke was struck mute, her entire body trembling with fright as she tried to make herself smaller behind her twin sister. Bailey wanted to be brave, wanted to protect her sister from the monster approaching them. --but she was just as scared, with tears spilling down her cheeks. “Go away!” She spat, pressing herself further back and nearly crushing Brooke against the wall. 

For the first time in thirty long years, William felt the thrill of the hunt. Little innocent lives cornered and desperate, completely at his mercy; he recognized Michael in them both, and surely they must be related. He began to salivate at the ideas running through his mind for what came next. He spoke, a gravelly growl of tone, distorted and deep: ”What’s the matter, girls? Don’t recognize your own grandfather?” 

“No!” Bailey snapped, not even responding to him as much as she was trying to scare him away. “Go away! Go away, go away, go away!!!” 

A loud crash followed as Springtrap slammed one of his hands into the wall, his claws sinking through with ease. Fazbear Frights felt cheaply made, like it would crumble under too much turmoil. “Insufferable little--”

Another voice cut through whatever William wanted to say next. “Bailey!! Brooke!!” 

The twin girls felt saved as their father rounded the corner. “Daddy!!” Bailey called. “Daddy, help!!” 

But to Jeremy, he was more angry and relieved to find his girls and didn’t quite realize the severity of the situation they found themselves in. To him, the twins had snuck into an up and coming haunted house attraction and got caught by some ugly animatronic. “You’re both in so much trouble..!” Jeremy was not used to being the harsh parent. That was often reserved for Michael; he was *better* at it. But the fear of losing his girls really had Jeremy’s heart *pounding.* He was terrified of losing another child. 

William froze, playing the part of a mindless animatronic well as Jeremy passed to collect his girls. 

“Daddy, wait!” Bailey pointed at Springtrap. “He’s real!”

But Jeremy, for once, was not in the mood. “How many times have I told you not to run off like this!?” His voice raised uncharacteristically. “What if someone snatched you girls up!? I’d never see you again!” He, too, began to shake from his own grief. Past memories of a dead infant still haunted him at times. He and Michael have been through too much. 

And his anger finally silenced Bailey, who dropped her hand in resignation. 

It was time. ”Finally punched out a couple of bastards from my kid, Fitzgerald?” 

Jeremy froze. His shoulders slumped as a cold dread twisted in his gut. He hadn’t heard that voice in so long-- not outside of his nightmares, at least. Immediately, he whipped around and stood protectively in front of his girls. His heart was pounding, a cold sweat sheen coming over him. “William?” 

Immediately, the broken down Spring Bonnie began to laugh as he sprung to life, his taller form looming over Jeremy and his children. ”You can’t escape,” he snarled. ”We both know it--” 

Jeremy wasn’t going to wait. William had already taken so much from them. His hands balled into tight fists, rage taking over when he swung. His fist collided against the Spring Bonnie head with a heavy thud! But unlike last time? William hardly moved. Another laugh left the elder man as he raised his hand and raked his claws across Jeremy’s face, knocking him back with ease.

Searing pain pulsated across his face as blood gushed out of freshly open wounds. Jeremy fell back hard, much to the dismay of his daughters. “Daddy, are you alright!?” Bailey latched onto her father’s shoulder as Brooke cowered closer. To the twins, their father had been unbeatable. But now, a monster had so easily cut him down. As they stood behind him, the girls were spared the gore painted across their father’s face: his eye gouged out entirely. 

“Jer?” And then there was Michael.

Both William and Jeremy tensed up. Springtrap turned like a feral animal, salivating with each approaching footstep. Bailey raised her voice again, scared out of her mind and wanting to feel safe from the monster cornering her: “Mama!! Help!!” She choked on her sobs, her little hands clinging tight to her father. 

But Jeremy felt his heart pounding in terror. Michael couldn’t-- “No, Mikey! Go away!!” 

Unfortunately, the younger Afton rounded the corner, coming face to face with the horrible sight: His husband, bleeding profusely, sheltering both girls from the moldy rabbit suit that was very obviously Spring Bonnie. Michael froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Dad--” 

William had to hold himself back from lunging ahead. ”Hello, Michael.” 

Michael knew he had to do something. He couldn’t abandon his family, no matter how much Jeremy shouted at him to go. Swearing under his breath, Michael grabbed for one of the tools at his hip and chucked it at Springtrap before taking off in an opposite direction. The tension finally broke in William, who went charging at his son, abandoning Jeremy and the twins.  “No!” Jeremy tried to stand, his legs giving out from the pain coursing through his body. “Shit-- shit!”

[1989stanz]

Nash proposing to Libby

Hey, guess what? I wrote another fic. Why? Because I have no job.

Disclaimer:

Mentions of Nash Hawthorne, Libby Grambs and Alisa Ortega. Minor cursing.

English is not my first language. I'm sorry if there's any mistakes.

Word count: 9K (IT'S LIKE THE SHORTEST I CAN, OK?!)

While growing up, all Nash craved and dreamed of—whole heartily, soul consuming and passionately— was his grandfather approval. He just wanted to know that he did enough, that he was enough. All the old man lessons he kept in mind, so he would not make any mistakes the next time. Be perfect. Better. Stronger. That's what Tobias always praised. But it didn't take long for him to discover who his grandfather, the man he admired, was. And after that, how could he learn about what being extraordinary really meant from a man who was worse than the devil? The respect slowly started to go away, giving room for the need to stay away from. From his money. His house. His horrific lessons that Nash memorized, who seemed to age like milk in his brain, leaving the dreadful spoiled smell behind. Eventually, he just put in his head that his lectures were full of bullshit that he did not need. But he knew, deep in his soul and heart, that he would never forget one, no matter how much time passed by. It just didn't go away.

5 years later

Nash was 22 years old, and he just came home from a long trip around the country. He tried working at different jobs, since he wouldn't use his grandfather money to keep him alive and under a roof. Tried being a mechanic, because he understood a lot of cars and motorcycles. Chef, since he knew a thing or two about cooking. Worked at Target for a long period, for the reason that he simply liked his costumers. Makeup artist, 'cause why not? At the time, he found it more enthusiastic to work as a bartender, serving all kind of drinks and listening to people's stories. However, he usually had a hard time trying to get a job, since he even refused to use his real last name and had to use a fake ID. Fortunately, he knew how to convince someone that his name really was Nash Ortega. Maybe he could change after his marriage with Alisa. Sure, she was having a bad time accepting the fact that he wanted her to move on from his grandfather and get others clients, but she probably would give in. She loved Nash and already said that she wanted to have a life with him, so there was a high chance that they would make it through. Of course they would. Just because it was a minor argument, that didn't mean they wouldn't work out as a marriage couple. They would, and Nash was more than pleased to state that he couldn't wait any longer to runaway from the billionaire with the love of his life, Alisa. The woman he could only think 24/7. The one he always saw first in the mornings. The one and only he thought about having a family with. His heart pounded faster and harder just at the thought of his new life with his incredible wife. In fact, it beat so fast that it was the only thing he could hear at the quiet tree house. He took a moment to analyze it better. The Hawthornes were know for being magnificent when it came to luxury, always having really expensive and glorious things. Their own house and the others old man's properties were an example of it. But the tree house was out of curve, without anything really rich and embellished. It was like a normal tree house, the magic was on the memories. That's when Nash heard footsteps behind him, too fragile and languidness to belong to any of his brothers. Without turning around, he felt a light but firm hand on his shoulder. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”, the old man asked, and Nash couldn't keep himself from feeling a really pure disgusting feeling of his grandfather. Of everything that he had done. Yet, the Nash that once saw him as a father felt love. “It could be yours, all yours, if you choose to stay with Alisa.” His grandson threw his head back, laughing really hard. “Trying to manipulate me again, Tobias?”, he emphasized his name. No “grandfather” or “old man” for him today. The devil stood still, not appearing offended by his word or apologizing to his grandson. But the secret was that he would never say sorry to any of them—ever. He would die before it. “You're consistent, Nash,” he replied. “Resisting even when I offer you everything. That's what I love about you.” Nash snorted, “We both know that it isn't going to be me.” Tobias looked at Nash's eyes, his expression never giving a hint about his thoughts.

“Maybe you really aren't. But who cares? You decided years and years ago that you hated everything that was related to me, and you've been running away from me since them. And you have the audacity to say in front of my face that I'm manipulating you!”. The old man smiled, amused. “You took a decision years ago and stood with it, without any hesitation.”, he looked at Nash. “That's what you should do if you want to help people. I know you don't want my money, but don't hesitate, Nash. Never hesitate when making decisions to save someone. Be consistent, hard to deal with hesitation.”, he looked away. “If you don't be, the consequences can destroy you completely.” Nash felt like the old man was talking about his own experiences in life, but he didn't give a damn at the time. Or at least pretended to. He wasn't really good at pretending, if everything always came back to haunt him.

——————————————————————————

Looking at the ring he just bought to Libby, this memory came back. Nash wasn't made for hesitation. He always thought about the right decision to make, and he stood with his decision no matter what. It was hard to change his mind. When he broke free from the old man, he was confident about it. When it came to his brothers, he was sure about every single decision. Even when he proposed to Alisa, he was more than certain about it. Of course, he was ignorant enough to think that Alisa would give up on the old man. She didn't, and it was terrifying to think about the things that Tobias did. The things he took away from Nash. But this time he wasn't there, which meant that he couldn't take Libby away. He was hers and this would never change. He was sure about everything that was about her, so why he got so nervous and insecure just by looking at the ring? Probably because he didn't know if she wanted it too. Libby loved Nash, but what if it was too early to take this step? What if it was the wrong kind of ring? What if the place wasn't adequate? And the most horrendous question: what if she wanted it, but not with him? There were so many doubts, and he didn't like to be so. . . Scared. That's it, Libby managed to get him scared. And unsure. But that's what he would find in a marriage life. Sometimes, being married isn't a straight road, and it's definitely not easy and secure. It was more like being in a road full of multiple turns and confused, mysterious and even scary streets. But once the streets are crossed, the rest is lovely. Not easy, but worth it. And Nash was ready for it.

Libby spent her entire life in Connecticut, and now that she had money and a food truck business, she wanted to travel to places that once were only part of an unreachable dream. Like Paris. Nash had the idea, and he planned everything for the two of them: booked a hotel, searched for restaurants that made her favorite foods, localized the most famous places that sold flowers—just in case— and he had every single day planned. Well, at least the second day had to strictly follow the plan.

They arrived late at night in Paris, Nash still feeling terrible from the flight, ate dinner and slept. Nash woke up at 5:00 am, anxiety not letting him sleep for long, and they left at 7:00 am.

The Eiffel Tower. Notre Dame. Palais Garnier. Louvre Museum. Champs-Élysées. Nash took her to visit all these places, loving to see the admiration in her face. He has been to Paris before, therefore there wasn't anything he hasn't seen—at least at the most famous locations. Even though he did not like expensive places, he really wanted to give this experience to Libby before proposing. And by the end of the day, they were exhausted. It was impossible to feel his toes, but he had to ask the important question to her. They were standing on a cliff, staring at the Eiffel Tower—which was pretty, he had to admit. “Nash, why did you randomly take me to Paris?” Libby asked, and he froze, unable to even look at her. But she glanced at him. “I know you would eventually take me to travel, but why right now?”

He gathered himself, his heart pounding fast. “I love you, Libby. You deserve to have a day like this one every day for the rest of your life”, he picked her chin, looking in her eyes. “But I brought you here today because I wanted to ask you something.” He dropped her chin, searching for the ring on his pocket. “You saved me in so many ways, Libby. You fixed what I thought could never be fixed. You loved me for what I am, and I want to be with you until I die. So,” he picked the box, “I really want to know.” Opening it carefully, he revealed the ring. If he wasn't shaking, sweating and so god-damn nervous, he would've noticed Libby's shy smile and her hands shaking. She was blushing, like him. Kneeling, he asked, “Lib, will you marry me?” Her smile grew more and more, happiness dominating her completely. She shook her head and said out loud, “Yes, Nash. I'll marry you. I love you so much.” Lib managed to say the last part with a quavering voice, tears falling down her cheeks. He got up from the ground, and she hugged him really tight, both with bright smiles. Nash kissed her like his life depended on it, like he was made for it and for nothing else, a soft and lovely kiss. His lips held an unspoken promise: “I will fight for you, love you, and always choose you. I'm yours, and I'll do everything I can to make you happy.” And they stood there, kissing, with happy tears in their eyes.

[randomfoggytiger]

The X-Files: Son of Egypt

First fic of all time (barring dabbles in my younger years off the internet that don't count.)

All credit goes to @television-overload's intriguing idea-- Samantha adopts and raises William Mulder-Scully (post here)-- with a Prince of Egypt-esque twist~.

Will Van de Kamp couldn’t remember how old he was (and couldn’t begin to take a guess now) or even what he'd said when his mother’s wistful, yearning look stopped him in the middle of a protest. “Your father said that to me, too,” she’d murmured, before quickly walking them away from the conversation. It was then he understood: Samantha Van de Kamp was his mother, Carl Andrew Van de Kamp was his brother, but the man he called “dad” was not his father.  

~~~~~

He had just turned twenty-two when Will was finally allowed to join the raids.

Their base's Consortium quarters had been quiet, eagerly quiet as the Van de Kamp men represented their request. Will may have felt aged in his soul-- a cobweb weighed down with dust and filth and dead parts-- but he was young in their eyes; and against this fading generation, who had seen wars and brokered peace before their species was extinguished, Will had to prove he could handle the great risk, the heavy responsibility, the implied future work this one task would set him up for. That was easily done as he parroted back their secrets-- a young boy with a quick mind and a listening ear could learn a lot, particularly when firmly transplanted from his childhood farm into the middle of a Syndicate compound. And a boy who could turn that threat of exposure into a boon for his lords and masters was a gift to be cultivated and groomed. He was approved. In passing, a few half-remarks (“Perhaps he should have been left on the farm. To know so much of our inner workings and with so much history--”, “It was necessary. There was no other way to keep Mulder from--”) snagged at his mind, vaguely recognizing a few names and situations mentioned before; but his attention was caught by Van de Kamp’s reassuring grip and a few curious members striding over to weigh him in the balance for themselves. Later. 

Later came sooner than expected.

The raid had been going smoothly. It wasn’t even a raid, Will discovered, but a routine drive-by meant to intimidate a specific helper or informant: a preening “you’re still in checkmate” boast. Elevated desperation reeked from their current victim, choking Will as thickly as Van de Kamp and Henderson’s ruthless satisfaction did. The interrogation ended badly: Henderson was knocked aside and Van de Kamp warned away from his charge by the muzzle of Henderson’s gun. Will Van de Kamp had his own weapon out and aimed at the man’s chest before he could become a hostage; but Will could not pull the trigger. The background noise faded out as both opponents faced each other, equal fear in their eyes. Then the man jerked the gun away, swiftly putting a bullet in his own skull.  

Another half-remark haunted Will’s footsteps from the scene. “Can’t change a Mulder,” Henderson hissed under his breath, hand wrapped around his twisted fingers. 

~~~~~

The Consortium appreciated the concept of genius but withdrew from his own. Bad blood on all sides, Will assumed; the dark, overcasting shadow of his late grandfather providing contrast to the spark of his intelligence. Eidetic memory was a negative in this den of bloated jackals, gluttoned as they were on easy power and declaring victories when they hadn't even fought wars (though against whom or what no one could point to.) 

When Van de Kamp had told the family they were moving permanently on-base, everyone had assumed it was because Andrew had caught the Syndicate's attention. Cunning was prized by a group who had to lick their own wounds one too many times; and Will’s older brother had it in spades. It was ridiculously easy for him to spin anything to his advantage with everyone except Will-- the two brothers knew each other too well for those games to be ended between them in anything other than a fight, a good laugh, and another adventure. Andrew's harsher struggles trying to live up to his grandfather's legacy in the Consortium was harshly contrasted by Will's greater negligence in the name of freedom; and both brothers grew closer and further away as the group's requirements necessarily pushed and pulled at their relationship. There was love, Will knew; but suspicions this intense could only be dealt with alone.

“What’s eating at you? We all don’t take that first shot, it doesn’t mean--” 

“Teach me to hack in, not get caught.” 

Another tussle, another patch up, another bargain.

Will only gained fringes of information from slipping into those dangerous territories (most of the information having been kept offline since an incident in 1995, he gleaned); but two important pieces were worth the risk: former Special Agent Fox W. Mulder (recently exonerated) had continually entangled himself in Syndicate business while on a madcap search for his sister; and that sister was Samantha Mulder. Samantha Mulder, Samantha Van de Kamp. 

He had to find those files. 

~~~~~

It took longer than Will was willing to admit to recall where Van de Kamp stored his important documents, cds, and drives. Nocturnal adventures were not unusual for him, even with a mother who quaked with worry and a father who quietly guided him back to his room any time after 10 PM. With the tiniest flashlight he could find in one hand (being invisible was an essential skill to survive when surrounded by betrayals layered with suspicions) and a phone in the other, Will picked his way through the attic, recognizing various names or codes from his notes. Eyes growing strained in the darkness, he finally found a promising box: folder piles, papers filed together, pictures, notes… the X-Files. Or copies of them.  

Will flipped around, brusquely set aside, and grabbed for stack after stack until he found his mother’s file. Although she was younger in this photo than any in the house, they still reassuringly shared the same nose (pinched at the bridge, widening out at the tip.) For a brief moment he wondered what his uncle’s nose looked like; but the word “Found” arrested his attention. Everything froze with him in shock, coming back to life only after he sputtered on a choked, belated gasp. Closed… found… 2000… died…starlight. Died. 

He clutched as many files and cds as he could; then a box of them; then set everything aside, shaking, as he ruthlessly sorted between importance and paramount importance. Remaining undetected was the goal: it wouldn’t matter how much evidence he collected if he were caught. 

~~~~~

Uncle Fox, Will discovered, was a fascinatingly transparent opponent to the Syndicate. He'd never hidden his motives or intentions, often defying the shaved-down FBI report regulations to get "the Truth" out-- conferences, interviews, even an odd media appearance (Cops was one of the notes he underlined.) The smaller, more humanizing details of his life were gathered through safer searches, having been expunged from the Consortium record for their unimportance. Special Agent Fox Mulder (Uncle Mulder) was always accompanied by his partner, Special Agent Dana Scully. And, fittingly he assumed, when Will saw them both for the first time it was together: his uncle’s wide smile and her serious frown captured on-site of one of their cases. 

Former Special Agent Dana Scully was still being monitored by her enemies (likely a more indirect way to monitor her former partner): now a doctor at an Our Lady’s Sorrow hospital, her hair was longer and her face relatively unchanged, if the newest articles about her work were to be believed. It was a short leap from those articles to the sensationalism rags about her past, and an even shorter distance from that to tumbling into revelation after revelation: exoneration in 2008, fleeing the law with her partner in 2002… and adopting-out her son, also in 2002. William Mulder-Scully.

The thought flitted and was brushed aside; then slammed back with ringing clarity. Will scrambled for baby Mulder-Scully’s birthday and breathed a sigh: he was born in 2001. Five years too young to be himself, but a cousin nonetheless. He hoped wherever the boy was that it was far from where he was. 

But “Closed… found… 2000… died.” wouldn’t leave his mind. Samantha Mulder was buried in North Carolina with a Teena Mulder; and, to Will’s shock, was briefly joined by Uncle Mulder himself for three months. The files he had on hand confirmed the public report, which left him shaken and reeling.

Closed… found.. 2000… died…. Resurrected? 

And if closed, found, 2000, died, resurrected was a possibility, then there was an equal chance that born, adopted, given a new identity could be true as well.  

A frantic, thorough, and looping search confirmed it: the Will Van De Kamp born to Samantha Van de Kamp existed only after William Mulder-Scully was adopted out. Thinking back, Will couldn’t personally prove his existence after his alleged birth in 1996. The life they lived had never allowed for natural curiosity or too many questions with silence so easily bought and paid for. Until now, he assumed “the work” was dangerous and fearfully weighty, something to be talked of obliquely or not at all. Now he wondered what sort of kingdom he and Andrew were being raised for. 

~~~~~

Clones and hybrids and tortured children and harvested women and broken men. 

That was their empire. 

His mother, a tool of the Project. Carted out against her knowledge and against her will for her father’s (her creator's) means and goals, paraded before a brother she thought she had and married to a man that may or may not know she was inhuman. A string of children lost and born and dead before Andrew survived to carry on her creator's legacy. Complicit in the lie of Will's birth and parentage.   

His brother, a tool of the Project. Elevated as its prince, honed to a weapon, and all-but-in-writing handed the keys of the Conspiracy. Immune before immunity was no longer required. Cunningly grasping for that power and for Will, unable to keep both but refusing to lax his grip all the same. 

The Project: fruitless lies upon lies that saved no one, having merely benefitted from two opposing alien factions’ war and stalemate. Bullies left with too much aimless power and ashes at their feet. 

Will knew he needed to leave. Soon. Immediately. 

~~~~~

Andrew was furious Will was leaving without warning and almost without a goodbye. Their ensuing fight was left unresolved-- perhaps forever-- with the punctuating slam and screech of an angry driver venting his pain on the road. Will wondered if his family was doomed to be continually torn apart; and if Andrew would ever start or never stop looking for him.

His mother, Samantha, simply stared, silent tears marking the many years she'd chosen ignorance over truth. A soft then more desperate hug said everything for her; and she quietly slipped into the backroom, giving him time to grab what he needed and leave. 

Van de Kamp barged in before Will left, breathless with pain. He, too, was silent; and he, too, allowed his son to leave. 

Will knew all three wouldn’t betray him; but how much of that was motivated by love, loyalty, or a twisted sense of duty he couldn’t say. 

~~~~~

Doctor Dana Scully was easy to locate but harder to follow, the Consortium’s search for him making it nearly impossible at first. Her frown was still serious and her hair was still long, but her spark was gone. He could only watch this new mother from afar, drifting in her wake-- hungry as she ate, parched as she drank, exhausted as she slept. He couldn’t approach her, the bereft ache in his last mother’s eyes always on his mind, foiling his best attempts to forget. Perhaps former Special Agent Dana Scully and he were not meant to be, or perhaps meeting her in person would turn her from a figment into flesh. Until he could be certain, he waited. 

Former Special Agent Fox Mulder was nowhere to be found. 

It was a week before Dana Scully led the way to her second home, a ramshackle abandoned house in the sticks. Will knew about this property, even came to scout it out once; but it looked dead from the road, and he’d hurried back to his previous task. By now, he should have learned that appearances are deceiving. 

He left his car in the woods, slinking up the porch easily by crouching under the tall grass. The house was still dead-- no hum from the power, no creaking of the pipes, and no shuffling from the steps inside.  Half remarks, easy to recognize from a lifetime of training, trickled outside; and Will inched closer to catch them.   

Dana Scully’s voice-- harder to hear from where Will was positioned-- was softer than he’d imagined, especially when contrasted with the solemn expression that settled perpetually on her face. “...out here… this house… alone.” 

“Well, you know me, Scully,” Special Agent Fox Mulder’s (Uncle Fox, Mulder, Father's) voice rang out, falsely cheerful. “You predicted how this’d go years ago.”

Will caught a mournful murmur. 

“‘Catatonic schizophrenia’, I believe you called it.”

“Mulder.” He heard that loud and clear: no nonsense endearment. Amused and trying not to be.  

“Though I think our story ended better than theirs. Though not by much.” 

Although Dana Scully’s (Scully's) heels clicked close, Will could tell she was only drawing closer to Agent Mulder (Mulder.) There was a long, deep silence, a few deep reassuring breaths, and what sounded like affectionate ruffling. 

“You’ll find your way back, Mulder. I believe that.” 

Retreating from this intimate moment between two sad, broken people, Will felt fifteen years old for the first time in his false twenty-two. 

~~~~~

Will didn’t leave Mulder’s house. He spent the next week or two losing track of time in the rhythm of Mulder’s world: quiet except for the wind moving through the trees, the grass, or slamming up against the lifeless windows. Food was easy to forget when he subsisted on various nonperishables; and the hours were whittled away plowing through various copies of unredacted files. Low profile didn’t seem to have existed in Mulder and Scully’s orbit, with more and more press and eyewitness accounts to corroborate or validate the various outlandish claims they’d both signed their names to. 

It also gave him time to think. Losing his family was concrete and understandable even if it was gut-wrenching and grueling. But to have stripped him of his identity, of so large a factor as his age, was as baffling as it was appalling. Will had lived through each milestone, had graduated, had taken other secondary education classes and courses; and now he was left to second-guess everything he thought he knew. Tutelage tempered with lies under the Syndicate could mean anything: how effectively was he taught? Did he even graduate? Likely not, since a fifteen year old brain could not fit the knowledge required for a twenty-two year old collegiate. Had the Consortium fallen so far that they were sloughing off a piecemeal education on their next generation, not caring if they learned so much as they obeyed? If so, the whole structure would collapse within a generation; but then, what structure did they have left to uphold? The selfish men who bought and sold for power were dying out, and the next generation might be willing to take what they could from the scraps. But then why--

And underneath all of those thoughts was the one Will was trying to isolate from but kept finding over and over in the files, typed up plainly in Dana Scully’s neat sentences: “...if it’s only by knowing where he’s been that he can hope to understand where he’s going, then I fear Agent Mulder may lose his course; and the truths he’s seeking from his childhood will continue to evade him, driving him more dangerously forward in impossible pursuit.” 

~~~~~

Mulder stepped out of the treeline, gun in hand. 

Will realized, as he stared at this man chiseled by regrets and promises, that he had been disappointed in his father a week or more ago. He’d wanted to respect him, had even thought he loved him in a way; but had still withdrawn from the concreteness of his father's weakness, just as his father had. The Mulder standing before him was every inch the former Special Agent Fox Mulder he'd read about: danger in his stance, fire and fairness in his eyes.  He’d never met Fox Mulder, but Will was glad to have him back. 

Mulder stopped his string of succinct commands when his eyes fell on the files, breath catching as he looked erratically from one copy to the next before flying back up to Will’s face. There was fear in his eyes-- good fear, alive fear-- and his words caught a few times before he asked, “William?” 

Fox Mulder, Mulder. Dana Scully, Scully. Will Van de Kamp, William Mulder-Scully. He could live with that. 

There wasn't anything to say, so William did what Samantha Mulder had taught him, letting his smile say everything for him. Mulder's face split into the exact same, wide-open beam: he, too, had taught William in his absence. And William knew-- he just knew-- that Scully had passed on her ability to read the layers of emotions dancing across his father's neutral expression. And he could live with that, too.

William watched his father's smile slip as he swallowed back crashing emotions. "I tried looking for you, years ago. When you were a baby. And later, when...." Mulder paused, miserable in his failures.

There was only one thing left to say. "You did."

~~~~~

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @television-overload for coming up with the original idea and for naming Will's older brother. ;)))

Thank you to @ghostbustermelanieking and @o6666666 for creating short, beautiful AU fics that ultimately helped me flesh out the format for this one.

Thank you (in no particular order) @baronessblixen, @welsharcher, @agent-troi, @dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, @suitablyaggrieved, @pianogirlxf, @samucabd, @herdingcats12, @cecilysass, @amplifyme, @slippinmickeys, @enigmaticdrblockhead, @annablume, @spidey-is-tired, @two-microscopes, @spidey-is-tired, @mariaann, @chavisory, @medicaldoctordana, @ibringyouasong89, @cyb3rpeach, @mindibindi, @two-birds-alone-together, @invidiosa, @jessahmewren, @living-in-unreality, @mollybecameanengineer, @tossingmyglossymane, @demon-fetal-harvest, @settle-down-frohike, @storybycorey, @thescullyphile, @scullys-scalpel, @perpetually-weirdening, @teenie-xf, @captainsugarcane, @frogsmulder, @paperheartsarts, @unremarkablehouse, @cutemothman, @my-spookybunnies, @lindz-dude, @sonictacocat, @freckleslikestars, @kiivitaja, @today-in-fic and more for always being willing to engage with my work (and enjoying when I engage in yours.)

Thank you to every single one of the fic writers out there. Your work nudged me gently along to this point; and without your leaps I wouldn't be making these steps.

And thank you to each and everyone of my mutuals and lurkers-- keep on keepin' on~!

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Were my family the assholes for not giving my great-aunt money for her daughter’s funeral? (All names are fake names other than Nan just being a grandmother nickname. This all happened a couple of years ago. Sorry for the length!)

To start, my grandmother (“Nan”) is in her mid-80s and has Alzheimer’s. She mostly still knows who everyone is, but has a very hard time with her working and short-term memory; she cannot live alone anymore and lives with my aunt. She has one living sister (“Joan”), who is in her late 70s and lives several states away from us. It’s drivable but not easily, especially for someone older.

Nan is the sweetest, most patient, and gentle person ever, and Alzheimer’s has not significantly changed this. Joan, on the other hand, has a long history of being manipulative and careless (eg. getting Nan very drunk even in old age), and my family have been no-contact with her for several years. Every time we give her a chance to come back into Nan’s life, she starts fights (occasionally physical) and will scream abuse at Nan’s kids (my dad and aunt). Joan always pitted her kids and my dad and aunt against each other, favoring my dad and openly hating my aunt. She also really fucked up her own kids, one of whom is a very meek, quiet guy who we still see, and the other of whom had addiction and legal problems her whole life (“Mary”).

Mary used to live closer to us, but during a particularly tough time in her life, broke into my grandmother’s house and stole money and jewelry. We are lucky that Nan is financially stable, but she doesn’t have infinite money and some of the things Mary stole were sentimental items from my grandfather, who passed away several years ago. Like with Joan, we had given Mary several second chances. She was a family member, her mother lived far away, and she had problems that were difficult to deal with. After this, my dad put his foot down in the name of Nan’s safety, and we broke off contact with Mary. She eventually went to live closer to Joan.

Mary died a couple of years ago in her late forties. It’s really, really sad. None of us had seen her in several years. Throughout this time period, Joan had popped in and out, sending harassing text messages and berating my aunt over the phone (not about Mary). After Mary died, she contacted my dad and aunt to ask if they could send money for Mary’s burial. Joan and my aunt are not well-off, but my parents are upper middle-class. My parents talked about it a lot and decided not to send money to Joan. Their main reasoning was that they did not want to open up another window for Joan to come back into people’s lives and harass them, particularly Nan. Nan often gets upset when Joan is causing trouble, and we don’t want to put her through that. My parents were also concerned that this might end up with my aunt sending more of my grandmother’s money to Joan.

My brother felt that my parents were being too cold, since the money genuinely was intended for funerary purposes. I get where both he and my parents are coming from: on one hand, Joan is an absolute monster and has been mistreating people her entire life, and Mary did steal from my grandmother. On the other hand, she can’t do any more harm now, she’s family, my parents can afford it, and Joan is too old and far away to realistically physically show up in anyone’s life.

TL;DR: Is it wrong to refuse to help with burial costs for an abusive family member’s (harmful but less abusive) adult child?

What are these acronyms?

[bethanydelleman]

Caroline Bingley is VERY unlikely to be a tradesman's daughter, in my opinion.

They were of a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been acquired by trade. Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. 

Charles is 22/23. His father already had the money to purchase when he died. Mr. Bingley Sr. probably wasn't very old, Charles acts like someone excited to finally get out of guardianship, not someone whose dad just passed away, so Mr. Bingley Sr. probably made it to forty? That is not a whole lot of time to acquire £140,000 pounds in trade! Which means either Grandfather Bingley made the money or even that the money was partially acquired through marriage.

Add to that, the Bingley children are well educated. This is something that their father already had the money to do.

Also, they don't have connections in trade, because otherwise they wouldn't make fun of Elizabeth's trade connections. And yes, hypocrisy exists, but Caroline would not be stupid enough to make fun of Mr. Gardiner in Cheapside if he lived next door to Uncle Bingley. They are far enough removed from trade that they no longer associate with anyone in trade.

And "respectable family" might mean gentry! In S&S, the Middletons are referred to as, "a very respectable family" Catherine Morland's father is, "a very respectable man", in MP a steward is called, "a very respectable man." and the Miss Bertrams say they will participate in the play because, "There could be no harm in what had been done in so many respectable families" That word clearly does not denote if someone is gentry or not, more about reputation. Which means we do not know what the Bingleys are and who or how they got this money.

But Mr. Bingley Sr. making that much money and being able to purchase before he died seems very unlikely to me! And I doubt you can easily forget that your own father was in trade.

[eating-plastic]

Next Lesson: Marlon x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, age gap (reader is +18 obviously), fighting, minor violence, fluff, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 4559 words

A/N: Yay Marlon! He's kinda underrated in my opinion and needs some love. Also, I noticed that I'm not really following the canon of the game when I write for Stardew Valley. I hope that's not too infuriating. I'm just trying to add my own touch to things. Anyhoo, that's all. Have a good day!

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

You grew up with farming in your blood. You enjoyed aiding your parents whenever you could, but for the most part you would be hanging out with the animals. From the cows and sheep, to your father's hunting dog (who was a total sweetheart when not tracking deer), to the many barn cats that kept the rodents at bay. Even as you grew older and your other siblings moved away to the city, you were content where you were. And why wouldn't you be? Farming made you who you were, with a love for nature and an optimistic view on the world, if not a little bit naive.

Unfortunately, life isn't full of happy moments, as you learned when you got a letter containing melancholic news. Your grandfather had passed away, which made you tear up as you read the note. You had loved him, dearly. You could remember visiting him when you were very young, helping him, hanging out with his animals, him reading you bedtime stories when you'd struggle to fall asleep. At least he had passed away peacefully in his sleep.

When you gained your composure, the letter revealed to you that he had left his farm to you, his favorite grandchild. The one that never complained about the work, the one who appreciated what nature could give, the one who was always excited to visit.

It was bittersweet. You were planning on getting a farm of your own soon, and now you got one. Oh how you wished it was under different circumstances.

Eventually, after you had your chance to mourn and move on from your grief, you packed up your things and moved to his humble abode in the beautiful Stardew Valley.

The sight of the old farmhouse broke your heart. It looked like the little guest home you and your siblings would stay in had been demolished and the fields that once held flourishing crops and animals were now overgrown with foliage. Upon entering what was once your grandfather's abode, you find it almost completely bare.

A rush of memories from your childhood flooded your mind. You could almost hear the ghost of those moments long past. You think back to the plot's condition and how it most likely became the state it was because of your grandfather's debilitating health. It almost made you misty eyed again.

No, your grandfather wouldn't want you to feel so sorrowful. He would want you to make new memories, now.

And that was just what you were going to do.

On top of being optimistic and free-spirited, you were a very determined person. You weren't going to just sit here feeling miserable. You were going to hit the ground running with getting this farm back to its former glory.

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

Your friendliness made it easy for the other villagers to get along with you. Well...most of them. While you spent your first year or so just focusing on repairing your new home, you began to slow down on the renovations now that it looked almost like how it used to. Nowadays you were spending more time on leisurely activities and bonding with the friendly townsfolk.

Of course, your favorite activities always involved the outdoors, and you found yourself spending more time on the beach or in the woods.

That was where you are, now, with trees surrounding you and birds singing above. You were near the mountains. You always wanted to see them as soon as someone told you about them. There was a rumor that there was a cave in the mountains that held an old mine that mysteriously shut down. The cave was also the home of beautiful crystals and gemstones.

The thought has you curious, and you should be at its entrance right...about....

A chill runs down your spin as you are face to face with the large, dark opening of the cave. You feel frozen on the spot, like the shadows had hypnotized you. If you strained your ears enough you could swear the opening was calling to you.

You shake your head, slightly breaking the spell that the dim entrance casted on you. You look around and are met with what looks to be an outpost to your right. You move to check it out, but stop when you notice a closed sign.

You don't know if you wanted to go into the cave. Who knows what dangers were in there. Not to mention the darkness. Then again, if the cave was so dangerous, why wasn't it blocked off. The Community Center was dilapidated and blocked off to the villagers, so why wasn't this?

'How bad could it be?' you thought. 'I'll just explore around a little bit and leave.'

So you passed through the entrance, a chill consuming your body at the drop in temperature. It was relatively dark, so you turned on the flashlight on your phone. Even though you didn't see any sparkling treasures, it still was cool. You had never entered a cave before, so everything fascinated you.

You were going to turn around, until you found the "mine" part of the cave. A ladder that was descending into the Earth now faced you. Like with the entrance, it called to you. You look around, then at your phone. It was at 78%. That should be enough.

'I won't stray from the ladder,' you thought.

And so your curiosity made you climb downwards.

To your surprise, there were lit lanterns on the walls of the cave. That's odd. If this cave is abandoned, why are there ignited lanterns? This was another thing that told you that these caverns couldn't be that dangerous.

Right?

Either way, you still explored around, even when you would hear strange noises. You thought they were just phantom noises. Noises of past events that still lingered, just like when you first moved into your grandfather's old farm house.

Eventually, you began to get bored. The bland, brown walls quickly lost the charm they had when you first entered.

As you moved to head back though, you felt a sharp pain in your ankle. You let out a pained shriek and jumped out of the way. You looked at the dirt floor and thought you could see something moving around in the dirt. You look down at your leg, and saw a shallow, but still bloody laceration. You let out a shaky breath.

You should probably leave.

You move back to the ladder, this time at a bit of a faster pace. You didn't know what cut you, but you needed to patch it up in case it got infected.

Just then though, you heard a weird squelching noise behind you. You slowly turn your head and are met with...a green jelly...thingy?

You didn't know what you were looking at. How could you? You had never seen a bouncing, green jelly ball before. Not to mention the weird but cutesy face it had.

You analyze the...creature as it slowly bounced towards you. You don't move, until a bit of the green slime splashes onto your legs. You let out another shriek of pain. It felt like you had acid spat on you.

Okay, you definitely had to leave now!

You turned and broke into a sprint towards where the ladder was, trying to run faster when you heard even more squelching noises and shuffling in the dirt under your feet.

Once you got to the ladder, you practically scrambled up it as quickly as you could. When you got to the top, you just laid on the dirt floor of the cave's entrance. Your breathing was frantic and you tried to get it under control.

"What the hell?"

Your head shot up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Standing in front of you was an old man whose face was illuminated by a torch he was holding. You felt frozen on the spot and struggled to find words for the situation, then again your hyperventilating was making it difficult. His confusion and annoyance quickly turned to be more sympathetic, and he slowly knelt down.

"Hey...hey, it's okay, kid," he held his hand out to help lift you to your feet. You took it, finally starting to breathe like a normal person. "There you go. Just hang on and follow me out."

You did just that, trying to keep up with the older man despite your injuries, as the light of the outdoors got closer and closer.

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

Of course, the day that Marlon decided to go get some groceries for him and Gil, the new farmer he had heard so much about decided to do some cave exploring. As soon as he got back, Gil had told him that he thought he saw someone unknown wander into the caves, but didn't know if it was real or just a dream. Frustrated that he would have to go save a curious idiot or fetch a body if he could, he grabbed his sword and ran as fast as his bad leg would allow him.

Luckily, you were alive, but clearly shaken up after obviously having explored the first level or levels of the cave. He wanted to berate you, but after seeing your terrified face, he had softened up.

Now you both were standing in the warm sunlight, and Marlon got a good look at your injuries. He asks you what happened, and you explain what you experienced to the best of your abilities. You truly were utterly clueless about monsters, telling him that you really weren't from here.

"Yep, sounds like a slime and a duggy. You're lucky you stopped exploring when you did. The deeper you go, the more dangerous the creatures get," he explains.

"I...w-what?" you truly couldn't wrap your head around anything that was being explained to you. Marlon just shook his head.

"I wouldn't worry about it. Your injuries aren't severe. Come on, let's get you patched up," he turns and walks into the outpost by the cave.

You follow him, and notice that the closed sign had been flipped to open. The interior of what you were told was the Adventurer's Guild was cozy, with a warm fire going. Apparently cozy enough for an old man in a rocking chair to nap by.

Marlon tells you to sit in a stool by the front desk, while he walks behind it to look for a first aid kit. Once he retrieves it, he moves back to you and kneels down to treat your injuries.

"You got a name, kid?" he asks while bandaging the laceration on your leg.

You introduce yourself, telling him your name and how you moved to Pelican Town. Now in better lighting and being much calmer now, you got a better look at the old man patching you up. He was rugged, with a few small scars on his hands and face, facial hair, and most notably, an eyepatch. You had to admit, he was handsome despite his age. In fact, you would say that maybe his age added to his attractiveness.

"What about you, stranger?" you ask after explaining yourself.

"Marlon," he answers, simply. Funny, considering how you told him your whole life story. Looks like you're going to have to be an interviewer.

"How come you know so much about the mines?"

"Used to explore them," once again keeping his answer short.

"Why?"

"Research."

"Research on what?"

"What do you think? Monsters, minerals, anything you can find. Lots of valuable things within those caverns."

You were surprised at the in-depth answer. Still, you'll take it. You decide to ask one more question.

"Who's he?" you point to the old man sleeping in the rocking chair.

"Gil," Marlon finishes up with patching your leg. Okay, looks like you were going to have to ask another question.

"How do you know him?"

"He was my research partner," he stands up from his spot on the floor. "So was your grandfather."

Your eyes widen.

"What?"

"Ever since the mines closed, Gil, your grandfather, and myself wanted to know why," he puts the first aid kit back.

"I see...," you think. Your grandfather loved telling you stories, but he never mentioned anything about this. How odd.

"Here."

You look up and are taken aback by what Marlon is holding towards you.

It is an old, weathered sword.

"What-?"

"Just in case," he explains. "If you ever wanna learn a bit about self defense, come on by. You'll need it if you decide to go into the mines again."

You hesitantly take the weapon.

"Believe me, I'll never go back into those mines ever," you let out a shaky laugh. "But thanks for the offer."

Marlon nods to you and you bid him farewell, leaving the Adventurer's Guild with your new weapon. Despite it being the first sword you ever held, it felt natural wielding it.

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

Marlon knew you would be back. If you were anything like your grandfather, then you would be curious about what the mines held and would want to learn how to survive.

And he was right.

It was only three days after your attack that you wanted to explore the mines once more. You wanted to know just what you'd find in those caverns and more about your grandfather's involvement with them.

You arrive at the door of the Adventurer's Guild around noon, with your old sword in hand. You made sure that the sign out front said open. You enter but are met with an empty front desk.

"Well I'll be, so you are real," you turn your head to Gil, still in his rocking chair but now awake and writing something in a booklet.

"Oh Hi! I'm Y/N," you greet.

"I know. Marlon told me about you, but it's nice to meet you properly," he gives you a warm smile, which you return.

"It is. Um, do you know where Marlon is?"

"Ah, that's right. You wanna learn a bit of fighting?" he asks, and you nod. "Yep, that's what I thought. There's a path in the back. Just follow it and you'll meet him."

"Okay, thank you, Gil!" you chirp before turning to leave.

"Mhm, good luck," he calls and returns back to his booklet.

Upon finding the path, you follow it. It's narrow , with few twists and turns, and leads you to a clearing. The open space is set up with training dummies, targets, and chests.

You see Marlon next to a sword stand that holds blades of different sizes and conditions. He picks one up, and swings it experimentally. You make your way towards him, but step on something that makes a loud crunching noise.

The old man quickly swivels on his feet, holding the blade towards you, causing you to jump back. When his eyes lock with yours, he lets out a sigh of relief and lowers his weapon.

"First lesson, kid: never sneak up on your allies," he scolds.

"Sorry," you mutter, sheepishly.

"Yes, well...now you know," he clears his throat. "It's good that you're making mistakes here instead of within the mines."

He holds his hand out for you to shake. It serves as a proper greeting at your arrival. You take it, feeling your brief embarrassment melt away.

"My grandfather always told me that making mistakes is good," you explain. "That mistakes are lessons to learn from."

"In most situations, yes," Marlon nods. That was something he always would say if he remembered correctly. "But in those mines, your mistakes can be fatal."

His voice is serious, making sure that you understand how dire your errors could be.

"I know," you nod, thinking back to your now healed up injuries.

"Good," he then walks towards a chest, and you follow close behind. "Now, then, let's get started."

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

You were only taught the basics of self defense and fighting. As such, you were awkward with simple swings and dodges, making numerous mistakes and learning how to correct them.

Marlon was a stern teacher, but it made sense why he was so strict. You had to know that your blunders could get you killed. He wasn't always so serious though, as he made sure to praise you on your improvements.

Now you were both walking back to the Adventurer's Guild. You felt a bit exhausted but proud of yourself. Back where you lived, you never had to worry about self defense or, you know, literal monsters, but doing something new made you feel good.

"Not bad for your first day, kid," Marlon states. "You aren't ready for the mines quite yet, but you'll get there in no time."

"Believe me, I'm as shocked as you. It's odd how natural swinging this sword feels now," you look down at your weapon. Sure it wasn't pristine and was old, but you liked it in a way you couldn't explain.

"I'm not shocked at all," he gives you a shadow of a smile. "It's in your blood."

This was the closest thing to a smile that the old man had given you, which causes you to beam.

"I guess it is, huh?" you think.

"It may help that you're wielding your grandfather's sword, too."

You quickly freeze up at that.

"Wait, what? Really?" you ask eagerly.

"Of course," he nods, smirking at your reaction. "It was used well in his hands, and now it will be used well in your own."

"Wow," you look back down at the sword in your hands. Perhaps that was why it felt so nice to wield. "Thank you."

Marlon nods, and continues to walk forwards. With this new tidbit of information, you had to know one thing.

"So when's our next lesson?"

"Whenever you're ready, Y/N. Although, I would recommend resting up a bit beforehand."

You nod. Truth be told, you wanted your next lesson to be as soon as possible.

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

Your skills had improved greatly. Ever since you stumbled through the basics, you quickly got the hang of fighting. As such, you started exploring the mines deeper and deeper, meeting with Marlon and Gil afterwards when you were curious about a monster you fought or a gem you collected.

You didn't really need to attend lessons with Marlon as often, but you enjoyed seeing him. Well, you enjoyed seeing Gil too, but this was different.

Not only was he attractive for his age, but the fact that Marlon was still an admirable fighter despite the bad leg made you rethink your taste in men.

You never thought you'd be smitten with a man so much older than you. You tried to ignore your crush on him, as you felt a bit disgusted with yourself. There was no way he could feel the same way for you. He probably viewed you as a surrogate grandchild or something like that.

Still, you tried to hang out with him as often as you could, and you always try to make him proud as you loved his praise. You also enjoyed making his day. At first glance one would think that Marlon was the stereotypical grumpy old man, and if you saw him walking around Pelican Town you would think that you were right.

But truth be told, he could be soft when he wanted to be, and you felt good to know that you were one of the few people he showed this side of himself towards.

That's why even now, despite being so under the weather, you still made your way to the Adventurer's Guild. There was a bug that was going around. Nothing too serious, it was just something that made you feel a bit feverish. You feel hot, but need to attend your lesson with Marlon.

Unfortunately for you, he notices just how ill you look as soon as you enter the clearing.

"Yoba, Y/N, you don't look so good," he remarks. He places a hand on your forehead and feels how you're burning up. "Are you sick?"

"What? N-No, I'm fine...I'm fine...,"you begin to sway, your eyes becoming heavy, and your legs give out underneath you.

Marlon quickly throws his arms around you to keep you from hitting the ground. He calls your name, worried. Even the simple walk from your farm to here was too much for you.

"Goddamn it," he mutters. This wasn't going to be pleasant. He picks up your limp body and carries it back to the Adventurer's Guild, despite his bad leg's protests.

Once he gets back, Gil instantly jumps from his chair.

"Marlon, what happened?" he follows him into the back room as he lays you down on the bottom bunk bed.

"They just fainted, alright? Look, go find a wet cloth, they're burning up," he commands, sitting down on the bed to rub his leg. Gil quickly leaves to do as he is told, returning as fast as possible with a soaked rag.

Marlon takes it and lays it over your forehead, before just looking down at your unconscious form.

"It's that damn flu going around. May need some medicine," he mumbles.

"Do...do you want me to go get it?" Gil asks. Typically Marlon went out into town to buy things, but with all the pressure put on his bad leg and knowing how protective he was over you, Gil knew he would have to be the one to go out.

"Yes," Marlon answers, still not looking up from you. And with that, Gil left the Adventurer's Guild after who knows how long.

Even after his leg started feeling better, Marlon still didn't leave your side. He didn't want to. He was never one to get worried about things, but this was different.

Perhaps it was because you were the first friend he had since Gil, or maybe it was because you were the grandchild of an old friend of his that was now gone. Hell, it could've been a combination of both. All he knew though, was that he wanted you to be okay.

He didn't even realize it, but he was now gently stroking your hair, occasionally brushing strands out of your face.

Eventually, you begin to stir, causing Marlon to realize what he was doing and pulling his hand away. Your eyes flutter open, blinking a few times as you wait for your vision to come back.

"Marlon...?" you mumble, realizing you are laying down on a bed and in an unfamiliar room. "Where am I?"

"The Adventurer's Guild. Now answer my question. What the hell were you thinking?" he tries to not come off as cross with you.

"I-I'm sorry...I promised to show up...I promised," you trail off as your delirious mind tries to come up with an explanation. The old man just shakes his head.

"I always told you, Y/N," he runs a hand through his white hair. "I always told you how important resting up is. You don't push yourself unless you are 100% okay."

"I know...I know...," your hand raises up to the wet cloth on your forehead, and run your fingers over it. Did he get you this? More importantly, did he carry you all the way here? How long were you out? Did...did he stay by your side this whole time? These questions make your heart flutter a bit.

Marlon just sighs, before removing the wet rag to feel your forehead. You feel much cooler now, which is good.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

"Better, I think," you reply. You no longer felt run down and your fever induced delirium was starting to fade.

"Good," he holds the damp cloth in his hands and doesn't move. It made him feel a bit awkward, which he never felt before. He still didn't want to leave your side, even though he knew he probably should.

"Marlon?" you wait for him to turn his head towards you. "How long was I out?"

"30 minutes I think."

"Did you...did you stay with me that whole time?"

"Yes, I had to," your eyes widen at that, which causes him to quickly add on to his statement. "My leg hurt after carrying you here."

"You carried me?" you are unable to hide the smile forming on your face.

"I...," Marlon quickly turns his head as he can feel his cheeks heating up, especially at your beautiful smile. "I...I couldn't just leave you there."

You sit up and move to the edge of the bed so you are now sitting next to him.

"Thank you, Marlon," with the sliver of delirium left in your mind, you lean over and place a kiss on his cheek. "That was very sweet of you."

The old man freezes up, and a shade of pink breaks out across his face. He looks at you and sees you still beaming up at him, but a bit sheepish now.

"You're um," he clears his throat. "You're welcome."

He slowly takes your hand into his and squeezes it, giving you a small smile. Well, this was a new feeling he was experiencing. He felt so...light? No, that couldn't have been the right word. That didn't matter though. All he knew was that he felt good. You made him feel good. It was like your kiss had made his mind fuzzy.

"I'm back!" Gil calls as he enters the Adventurer's Guild. Startled, Marlon lets go of your hand and moves away from you. You feel a bit hurt, until Gil enters the back room and smiles at you.

"Y/N, you're okay!"

You can't help but giggle at that.

"Yeah, I'm fine, now," you chirp, before noticing a bag in his hand. "What's that?"

"Oh, Marlon told me to go get you some medicine. Sorry it took me so long. I haven't been into town in a while," he rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Aw, really?" you ask, turning to look at the old man sitting next to you, who was now trying to hide his face once more.

"Yeah, but uh, since you're okay now," Gil reaches into the bag to pull out your medicine. "Do you still want it?"

"Of course. I'll probably get sick again, you know," you quip, walking over to him to take it. "Thank you, Gil."

He beams at you and nods, until his attention turns to his friend.

"You okay, Marlon?" noticing his flushed face.

"Oh, I think he might've caught what I have," you add quickly, before handing your medicine back to Gil. "He might need it more than me."

"Ah, I see," he says, completely oblivious to how fast you had responded. "Do you need me to walk you home?"

"No, I'll be fine," you chirp. "You just stay here and make sure Marlon gets some rest, okay?"

"You got it! Take care, Y/N!"

"Yep! See you, Gil! Get well soon, Marlon!" you wink at him while Gil is distracted. The old man couldn't help but smirk back.

"Yeah...right."

You leave with your spirits high, completely forgetting your ailment. After all, how could you feel ill? You had shoot your shot with Marlon, and scored. Under normal circumstances, you would've felt embarrassed, but seeing him react positively to your kiss melted it away.

Your lessons with him were probably going to be a bit more interesting now.

[wo-onu]

╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢ [this is my first yan!oc post, thank you for reading!]

* ・✦⇢ contents :: yandere!oc character profile + various headcanons

* ・✦⇢ warnings/cw :: profanities, yandere themes, overprotective behaviour, clinginess, treating darling like a glass.

* ・✦⇢ additional notes :: can be read as gn. also, no particular traits mentioned but it is written with feminine chubby + plus sized reader in mind though not explicitly specified nor mentioned in the post.

TELL ME DO YOU WANNA BE MY LOVER !

yandere!oc character profile + general hcs !

ʚ ﹒ ﹕ ̟乀 park yoonseo :: 박 윤서

— character profile:

name: 박 윤서 | park yoonseo

currently does not have a job; other than letting people handle his properties or whatnot. he gets his money from all his real estate inheritance so he doesn’t need to do anything. has no higher education than past middle school.

age: 24

yandere type: obsessive and clingy yandere

distinct traits: resting bitch face, unbelievably lucky, tan skin, sharp eyes, dyed hair, and mole under left eye.

friends: a childhood friend he can’t forget, and kang haejoon

likes: spicy food, comfortable clothes (buys only high end clothing), ramen, vodka, background noise

dislikes: sweets (bc he’s not good with them), complete utter silence, awkwardness, your parents (he thinks they don’t deserve such a good child like you)

hobbies: working out, watching various tv series

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~ ☆゜general headcanons !

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ has angry pomeranian energy

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ though honestly, don’t be fooled by his sharp eyes and rbf, he’s quite the softie and just a very lonely person who never got to be a proper kid.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ hates how “lucky” he is; it’s a very touchy word and subject for him. treats it like a curse rather than a blessing.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ although i’ve mentioned that he is quite the softie despite his rbf and sharp eyes, he also has an intimidating way of speaking. in a way that, sometimes his tone may sound too harsh or cold to strangers. however, his voice is actually very pleasant; like honey.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ since he is korean and lives in korea, he gets bullied about his darker complexion a lot. though it’s not a complex of his, he is mindful of how it can make people perceive him. however, it is not a complex because he do love his own skin colour and knows that there is nothing wrong with him. after all, he knows he’s an attractive man so why would he care? to him, no matter what, he will always be good looking. (and he is right)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ loved his parents a lot and therefore, always wanted a family. it is unfortunate they died while he was quite young but nevertheless, the happiest memories in his life has always included his parents and how much they made him feel loved and never lacking of anything.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ all his real estate and other possessions are all inherited from his parents as well as his paternal grandparents who took care of him once his parents passed away. sadly, right now, he is the sole survivor of his family as his grandparents also sadly passed two years and a year prior respectively. it devastated him when his grandmother passed a lot, and how it had felt like his grandfather was only following in her footsteps as he lost the will to survive and had his health deteriorate after her passing.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ on the other hand, he also admired that fact because he’s the type to idealise a ride or die relationship.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ oh, despite his intimidating looks, he is also a huge (hopeless) romantic! his venus is in aries therefore he’s inherently a passionate lover. he’s a fiery lover who will not settle for less than an all-encompassing love affair.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ since he is, for the lack of better term, unemployed, he watches all kinds of show. mention a show and he’s probably watched it. even if it’s just for background noise.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ loves spicy food any time of the day. although, in his defence, he neither likes or dislikes sweets, he just can’t handle them well enough to like it. wouldn’t necessarily seek out desserts. favourite food is definitely teokbokki (spicy rice cakes).

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~ ☆゜yandere tendencies !

・✦⇢ as stated in his character profile, he is an obsessive yandere. because of his loneliness; once he falls, he falls real hard and his entire world will basically revolve around them.

・✦⇢ patience is not his biggest virtue. he wants to know whether his darling is in and he wants to know it now. the type to plan out your entire wedding in seconds once he knows you’re into him. whether or not, you feel as passionately as he does. gets too carried away because of his views on love.

・✦⇢ goes above and beyond trying to protect his darling. overprotective to a fault. the darling may be unaware but he is watching over you 24/7. although he doesn’t have the skills to do it, his hired men does and takes full advantage of that.

・✦⇢ however, puts his darling’s words above all and everything else— apart from if it involves your safety. he wants to make you live an easy life; no work, no stress, no going out where you can befall a grave danger.if it’s something you refuse to do, he will listen. just as long as you don’t leave him, a compromise like that doesn’t ultimately bother him.

・✦⇢ absolutely the clingiest person you will ever meet. has to be with you all the time or he will claim he’s withering away. since he can’t be with you at work, he will just always be with you until you reach work and will definitely be there to fetch you from work. will also constantly be texting you when you’re away. though, he will show consideration by telling you whether it’s important or not so it won’t distract you too much from work. will be happy even if you only sent a thumbs up or a heart.

・✦⇢ although i did say that he puts his darling’s words above all, he’s never deterred by your rejections and will only ever go over his head. he will steel himself over and over again with those rejections as he clings and whines to you. (example: you reject getting married after two months of seeing each other? he’s hurt but does that matter? in the end, he will always get you. as long as he has you, he can bring it up again and again. he knows you love him too. so he can be patient. as long as you stay by his side. after all, with your frequency in his own house, are you not basically living the married life?)

・✦⇢ gets rid of everyone around you he doesn’t approve of. since he knows he’s not the brightest person, he just uses his money to do everything for him. as he also doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. if he’s ever stuck, he can just call his only friend to help him out, right?

・✦⇢ especially your leeching parents. doesn’t care for their emotional manipulation towards the person he only cares about. would happily sustain them but he knows you’d never stand for that.

・✦⇢ as for others, he always manages to get rid of them so naturally that his darling never catches on. either jail, sending them overseas, etc. he has all the money in the world, therefore, a lot of disposal at his feet; if he won’t use his own luxuries for and on his darling then what would be the point of having them?

・✦⇢ would bubble wrap his darling if he could. his darling is the only person for him, if he lost you. . . he doesn’t even want to think about the mere possibility. but if ever you’re with him and an unfortunate situation strikes, he absolutely cannot be the only lucky one and survive.

at the end of the day, as long as he has you, he doesn’t mind everything else. he is the most pitiful man you can ever come across, all for you. if he’s so into you and only about your relationship, shouldn’t you be the same? after all, he can provide you anything and everything.

╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢ a/n :: first meeting scenario, additional background info and nsfw hcs will be in another post as this has gotten too long. still kinda figuring out how to layout everything and be better at writing/describing things. it was more nervewracking than i thought. tell me what you all think~ feedbacks are appreciated, asks are always open !

📍all rights reserved © 2022 wo-onu. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform 📍

[starry-blue-echoes]

AU where after Father Pucci obtains jotaro's stand disk, he, being the perfectionist, "no loose ends" kind of person he is, meticulously studies every single one of jotaro's adventures on his quest to defeat dio and...... kinda ends up invested ? Like... he actually gets invested in the Stardust Crusader's misfit adventures. He goes through the entire events ofpart 3 in jotaro's perspective, he watches every single fight that he's been in. He feels sad when he thinks joseph dies, is devastated when he eventually learns that kakyoin, avdol, and iggy are dead-

he has the popcorn and foam hand with "JOJO" printed on it out, he's cheering when jotaro saves koichi and beats kira to a pulp in that one scene-

this all leaves him feeling very conflicted, of course- PFFF

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 ooooooo that’s a fun idea

What if Pucci ends up starting out of just general curiosity. After all, what was the life of the great Jotaro Kujo like? Perhaps he even tries using it to get some insight on Jolyne....... only to not find very much

This naturally sparks his interest. It's my headcanon that not only do the discs contain memories, but the emotions and thoughts attached to said memories. And as far as Pucci could tell in the few memories Jotaro did have with his daughter and wife, one of the most prevalent emotions was a feeling of endless love and devotion undercut by an almost suffocating anxiousness and a fear of danger

And the idea is almost laughable at first. After all, what could the great Jotaro Kujo, easily one of the most well known Stand Users in the whole community and arguably one of the strongest, possibly be so terrified of?

So he decides to go back to the beginning. To when Star first awoke and Jotaro first made contact with this world of Stands

The first two days were relatively expected but still a bit surprising. Jotaro naturally had no idea what was going on and reacted with fear, confusion and anger, eventually locking himself in a jail cell. Pucci couldn't exactly blame him for that, a Stand of Star's caliber would naturally be frightening to someone who wouldn't even know what a Stand was

But then Jotaro tries to shoot himself and this IMMEDIATELY draws Pucci's attention back with newfound interest

So he watches some more. He watches Joseph explain their family's history, Kakyoin attacking him only to save the boy from his apparent mind control, his mother getting sick and becoming his motive to kill Dio (and oh that last one strikes a chord in Pucci)

And after the first couple days and fights he grows to respect Jotaro, and even feels a tad sympathetic. He's still upset, but now he understands where Jotaro was coming from

.......but then it goes on and beneath all the power, he sees how much they all cared for each other. Every spike of terror and anger Jotaro felt when his friends were put in harms way Pucci feels like his own, he learns their jokes and laughs and voices, feels how the cold exterior Jotaro puts up fell away a bit with every day that went on.

And above all else, he sees how much Jotaro sacrifices for them. Pucci had known Jotaro was the self sacrificial type, it was the whole basis of his plan to lure him to Green Dolphin, but seeing it from this perspective? It hits differently. It hits differently seeing Jotaro throw himself off a ship to save a child he just met, hits differently seeing Jotaro taking blow after blow and not retaliating because it would hurt his grandfather, hits differently seeing him go off into the desert in search of the enemy alone to buy his friends time to escape

It hits differently when in the end, he faces Dio alone and stops his heart with his own hands

And Pucci feels something upon the deaths of Avdol and Iggy and Kakyoin and nearly Joseph. It's so strange, he thinks, to mourn people who died nearly three decades ago, but he does because now he knows them. They're no longer simply names Dio had mentioned in passing, they are living, breathing, feeling people

And as he continues he gets to see just how little Jotaro has had time to care for himself. How every action he took would have ripples, that his mere presence could bring danger to those he cared about, and how this led him to isolate and distance himself at the cost of his relationships and how in the end it STILL WASN'T ENOUGH

And Pucci is left conflicted. The perfect image he held of Dio was now thoroughly shattered, and Jotaro isn't the man he thought he was.

It's so hard to hate someone, to want to hurt someone, when you realize they're just as human as you. And Pucci is now forced to make a decision. Whether to continue on what he was doing....... or not