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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years

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Glad It’s You (Shawn Mendes Soulmate!au)

A/N: We got all kinds of classic tropes and au’s in here. Coffee shop, friends to lovers, soulmate. Also, let’s appreciate the fact that it’s actually of decent length this time :) My longest fic yet!

Also, I’m aware that the timeline of some events that correspond to real life aren’t perfect but for the sake of my sanity please go with it

Summary: Shawn lives in a world in which he believes he doesn’t have a soulmate until he starts feeling the emotions of someone else. You live in a world where undiagnosed social anxiety prevents you from finding yours. After not seeing each other for three years, the bond you once had is no longer as strong. How does Shawn tell you that he thinks you’re his soulmate when you’re still scared to talk to him like you once did?

Word count: 8.9k+

Warnings: Reader is heavily implied to have social anxiety, swearing, descriptions of an anxiety attack

*Disclaimer: The depiction of social anxiety is based off of my own experience and research and may or may not accurately reflect the experience of other people with SAD*

It was hard to tell if soulmates made life infinitely better or perpetually more difficult.

The discrepancy probably stemmed from the fact that not everyone had the same soulmate indicator. Some had the tattoos of the occupation of their soulmate. Some couldn’t see color until they met theirs. Others could feel the emotions of the other person. There was an endless array of indications. Oftentimes, soulmates had different indicators. It wasn’t rare for someone to have a tattooed name while their soulmate could feel the other’s emotions.

Since the day you were born, the initials S.M. were tattooed on the inside of your wrist. As a child it was a game. You asked every person you met what their name was, your mind consumed with the idea of eternal love that had been ingrained from a young age. There was always a moment of disappointment when they would tell you “Sammy Jones” or “Eric Miller”. With all the adults romanticizing the idea of soulmates, it was hard not to look for yours in every place you could.

For a long time, Shawn thought he didn’t have a soulmate. There were no indicators while he was growing up to show that he could have one. He could see color and there were no special tattoos marking his body. It was a source of shame when his friends would ask, “What about you?” after telling him about theirs. Watching his friends talking about their indicators and finding their soulmates was frustrating. He was a normal kid. What did he do to deserve a life of loneliness that only a soulmate could fill?

Even when his career as a singer launched and he started to understand why it was possible that he might never find love, it was hard to comprehend that he was destined for no one. Was he really that undeserving of love?

He was twenty when he started feeling someone else’s emotions.

It came out of nowhere. He was celebrating the release of his third album and he couldn’t have been happier. He was on cloud nine, meeting everyone at the party with an enthusiastic smile and hug. He felt complete, even. He had stopped dwelling on his lack of soulmate and instead focused on putting everything he had into his songwriting.

It was the best choice he’d ever made. His music blossomed and his mental health was better than ever. All the anxiety of being alone and hoping that something, anything, would pop up to show him that he was meant for someone had started to fade to the background. Maybe he would never truly be over the fact that there was no perfect match for him but he could try to block it out of his mind.

There was a point in his life when he thought that maybe he did have a soulmate. That the system was screwed up and he did have a person. He was 16 and his career was already taking off but he couldn’t help but think that he was falling in love with you, his best friend, while he also fell in love with making music.

You were by his side through it all: random nights when he’d ask you to come over to help him come up with lyrics, days when it started to get a little too much, evenings when he just needed a quick break. You were the best of friends and there was a bond you thought would never be broken.

One day, he realized that he didn’t need some tattoo or the ability to read your thoughts; you were meant for each other. Neither of you could deny the pull you felt when you were together and random people who didn’t know better often mistook you for a couple.

But he realized too late. He went on his first world tour and wasn’t sure how to tell you his feelings when he was constantly so far away. You liked plans and stability; his life didn’t offer that in any capacity.

And then it was too hard to stay connected. He was touring and you were still trying to finish school. There just wasn’t time for you to talk to him at 3:30 in the morning. So you lost touch. There was a text every once and awhile. An empty promise of “we need to meet up” or “wanna talk?”

You both decided in your minds that it wasn’t meant to be. That you had a different soulmate and he had none. It’s been three years now since you were together to have a real conversation. You were beginning to grow frustrated with the search for your soulmate and Shawn had given up all together.

That was, until he felt a surge of anxiety hit him like a truck in the middle of his party. It lasted no more than three seconds but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling after it passed. He had no idea where it came from. One second he felt on top of the world, the next like he couldn’t stoop lower.

It had only been an hour and a half but you were ready to leave the party. It had been an eventful night by your standards. You had talked to two people besides your roommate, which was two more than usual. Your roommate, Alana had been by your side the whole night, a promise she had to make before you agreed to come, but she eventually had to go to the bathroom, leaving you leaning against a wall by yourself. She had only been gone for three minutes, you could feel all the anxiety creeping up on you.

Do they think I look lonely? My friend will be back in a minute, I swear!

If I look at my phone they might think I’m just chilling.

They probably think I’m that weirdo that stands against the wall the whole time and doesn’t talk to people.

Calm down. Nobody cares what you’re doing. They’re all doing their own thing.

. . . They looked at me funny. They think I’m weird.

Oh can we just go home?

As much as you tried to tell yourself that no one cared that you were standing against the wall by yourself, there was that part of you that convinced you that they cared a lot. You were already exhausted purely from being around all the people and loud music. Alana had been gone for three minutes and in those three minutes you had begun to shake and sweat just the slightest bit. You knew that nobody was judging you, it was irrational, but in the back of your mind told you otherwise.

Shawn excused himself from the room, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. While it wasn’t completely abnormal for random bouts of anxiety to hit him, this one felt different. Foreign, as though it wasn’t his own emotions, rather, someone else’s.

He wiped his hands on his pants, confused as to why they were so sweaty all of a sudden. It wasn’t particularly hot yet he felt warm. Maybe he was worrying too much. It was probably nothing. He ran a hand through his hair before going back to the party, putting a smile on his face and the past ten minutes behind him.

“Hey man, you alright?” Brian asked as he approached him.

‘Yeah, just needed to go to the bathroom.”

“You sure? You look a little shaken.” He wasn’t blind to how Shawn’s eyes were darting around and how he appeared a little more closed off than usual.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He turned his head when someone else called his name and nodded to Brian before heading over to them. He spent the rest of the night doing his best to look excited, but those three seconds plagued his mind the whole time.

While Shawn struggled to keep his hopes of a soulmate under wraps, you were more desperate than ever to find yours. It seemed like all of your friends were finding theirs and you were perpetually alone.

With the way you tended to shy away from meeting new people, most people assumed you didn’t want to find your soulmate. That you would rather live a life alone, or that maybe you were never assigned a soulmate to begin with.

You had met a few potential soulmates after losing touch with Shawn. Every time you heard an S.M. name your heart stopped. Maybe you had finally found them. You pushed past the fear of approaching them, rationalizing it with the thought that this could be your only chance to find them. It never worked though. They all had an indicator pointing towards someone else, leaving you upset and embarrassed.

There was always a small part of you that thought Shawn could be your soulmate, even if he didn’t have any indication of one. You were sure he thought the same way but you lost touch before either of you could really say anything about it.

You thought about asking him to meet up when he was in town a few times but something stopped you every time. The thought of what if he doesn’t remember me? or worse, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me? was enough to keep you from sending the text.

It was easy to ignore your loneliness when you could bury yourself in schoolwork, which you had a tendency of doing. It was the easiest excuse to get out of everything. Don’t want to go to a party? Oh, I have to finish editing my essay. Alana tried to set you up on a blind date? I have tests coming up I need to study for.

Alana was determined to help you find your soulmate, even if you didn’t want to cooperate.

“Come on, Y/N. Maybe they’ll be at this party! I promise there won’t be a ton of people there and I know you finished that essay last night cause you told me about it and said that you were looking forward to a work free night,” she said, closing your laptop so you couldn’t “work” on your already finished essay.

“But I want to go over it a few more times to make sure everything is right,” you replied. “Besides, we went to a party last month.”

“Exactly, last month. Let’s go.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“You’re never going to meet your soulmate just sitting at your desk and pretending to work on an essay.”

“It’s not entirely impossible.”

“Y/N.”

So that’s how you ended up at the party, looking around for a potential soulmate. You insisted that they wouldn’t be there; they never were, but Alana insisted that a night out would be good for you, no matter the soulmate circumstance, and dragged you along.

Truth be told, it was a good thing she forced you to attend. If you had it your way, you would spend most nights in your room, ignoring the rest of the world and sitting on your phone. You were fine hanging with close friends every once and awhile, but a night in was always more appealing.

According to Alana, however, that wasn’t normal, and you needed to go out in the world and talk to people, unless you wanted to be alone forever.

You would say, “But I do want to be alone forever. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t even like going to the bank, much less a party filled with people I don’t know.”

And she would say, “Please, I know that you want to find your soulmate and the only reason you don’t like going to the bank is because it makes you nervous and you’re worried that the people working there are going to be mad at you for no reason.”

So you would say, “I’ve probably met all the potential soulmates already. What’s the chance that some random person is going to show up to the party and just happen to be that person?”

And she would tell you, “People randomly meet their soulmates all the time. Yours isn’t going to walk through this door without knowing you first. If you don’t at least leave this dorm you’ll never meet them. Think of how lonely they must feel, waiting for you to come out of hiding.”

And, as much as you wished you could, you couldn’t really argue with that. The real problem after that was talking to people. You argued that you’re already there, so there’s no reason that if your soulmate was at the party, they couldn’t come find you. Alana tried to get you to socialize by walking around with you and introducing you to new people, but they were usually more interested in talking with her than you.

That’s how you ended up against the wall, allowing yourself to overthink while Alana went to the bathroom.

Shawn continued to experience those random emotions throughout the tour. Random flashes of feelings that weren’t quite his. He would be lounging around when he would suddenly feel excited and energetic, only for it to pass by within a few seconds. One time, he was feeling particularly miserable when a surge of adrenaline and anger came through him.

He had no idea where the feelings were coming from. He was starting to think that they were somehow connected to his soulmate.

A glimmer of hope after years of desperation and disappointment.

Part of him wanted to dismiss it, thinking that no, I can’t have a soulmate. I’ve worked way too hard to get past this to dwell on it again. The other part wanted to take the idea and run with it.

He tried to argue with himself that it couldn’t be soulmate related.

It’s not like it happening all the time or constantly in the back of my mind.

How would this help me find them anyways?

It’s all in my head.

Still, it did little to block the thought that maybe, just maybe, it was related.

It was a quiet day at the coffee shop. Granted, most days were fairly quiet, as the shop was located in a secluded area, but still. You assumed it was mainly attributed to the fact that exams were coming up and people didn’t have time to drive down to the shop when there was a Starbucks much closer to the dorms. You were in the same predicament, having your books splayed out on the counter to study in between customers.

You and Shawn used to come to the coffee shop every Friday after school. Even after Shawn left to go on tour and live life as a rockstar, you made sure to visit the shop at least once a month. Afterall, you were friends with the owner, Eileen, and you would hate to just stop coming and never see her again.

You eventually landed a job there. It was a little bit of a drive from the dorms but you knew that when Eileen offered you the job, you wouldn’t be able to find one with as good pay and flexible hours anywhere closer. Sometimes being friends with the owner for a long time has its perks.

There was a collage of photos on the wall behind the register that made the place really feel like home. There were tons of random photos ranging from when the shop first opened to when Eileen took a picture of a slice of cake she insisted had a face in it.

You appeared on the wall a few times, but your favorite picture was the one of you and Shawn right before he left for tour the first time. You were both laughing in the picture, Shawn’s arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. It was the last time you went to the shop together and you remembered just how fun of a time it was. It always left an ache in your heart when you looked at it, remembering all the good times you had together.

You didn’t have many other close friends, so once Shawn left for tour you felt a lot lonelier. Your mom tried to get you to make new friends, but it wasn’t as easy for you as she insisted it was.

“Why can’t you talk to the people across the road? They have a girl your age.”

“But she already has a friend group. We’ve lived across the street from each other for years. It would be weird if I suddenly introduced myself and tried to break into her friend group.”

“You’re never going to make friends if you don’t talk to people.”

“I have friends.”

“But don’t you want to hang out with more than two people?”

“No, I have my friends. That’s all I need.”

More often than not, you did wish you had more than two friends, or that Shawn would come back and eliminate the need to make new ones, but wishing did nothing to help your loneliness. You made a few more friends once you went to college, and you were completely okay with your small group, but it never satisfied the longing to see Shawn again.

“What are we doing here?” Brian asked as Shawn pulled into the parking lot of a worn down but homely looking building. “And what is this place?”

“It’s a coffee shop I used to come to every week. I haven’t seen Eileen in years,” Shawn said with a wistful look as he parked the car.

“Eileen?”

“The owner.”

Brian huffed, realizing that they would be stuck there for a while if Shawn knew the owner. He liked to talk to people. And when he talked, he talked and talked and talked.

“Relax, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

They both got out of the car and walked into the shop, Shawn smiling when he heard the bell above the door ring. He looked around for a second, noting how almost nothing changed since he’d last been there a few years ago. The chairs and tables were still in the same places, same coffee smell, even that stuffed cat that Shawn gave Eileen as a joke was still sitting on the windowsill.

The only big change he noticed was the photo wall. There were a lot more photos than he remembered. He wondered if he would still be able to find that picture of you and him.

He looked to the counter and saw a girl with Y/H/C hair, her head buried in the textbooks that were scattered across the counter.

“Dude, we getting coffee or what?” Brian said with a teasing smile, walking closer to the counter to read the menu posted on the wall behind it.

You were so invested in studying that you didn’t even hear the bell ring when they came in, only looking up when you saw someone approaching the counter out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh, hi, sorry ‘bout that. How can I help you?” you said as you looked up, met with the face of an oddly familiar young man.

“Can I get a-”

“Y/N?” Shawn questioned from behind him, confusion painting his face. He hadn’t seen you in three years but you didn’t look all that different. A little more mature, sure, but he could tell it was still obviously you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the familiar voice, glancing behind Brian to see Shawn. Your eyes widened at his appearance, no longer a boy but now a man. “Shawn?”

“Hey, Y/N, can you empty the garbage and put it out back?” Eileen asked as she walked out of the small kitchen area that was closed off from the rest of the store. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Shawn, a smile taking over her face as she took in how he’d grown up over the years. “Shawn Mendes, is that you?”

“Indeed, it is,” he said with a shy smile. “How are you Eileen?”

“Pretty good if I do say so myself. How are you? How’s the rockstar life treating you?”

“It’s pretty great.”

Meanwhile, you were still staring at your former best friend, mouth slightly agape as you took him in.

“Well why don’t we get you two some coffees? On the house of course. Y/N, stop staring at the poor boy. It’s not like you’ve never met him before.”

You looked at the ground for a second and blushed, smiling at the sound of Shawn’s giggle.

“Alright, what can I get you guys?”

They gave you their orders and you got to work, denying the ten dollar bill Shawn offered you to pay for them.

“On the house, remember? Or are you Mr. rich guy now?” you asked with a slight surge of confidence. You hadn’t seen him in years, but the urge to tease him every chance you got was still there.

“Ooh, okay. You think I’ve changed that much?”

“A little bit. It’s been a while.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I am the exact same person as I was three years ago.”

“I’m not too sure about that, but okay.”

Shawn rolled his eyes and put the bill in the tip jar. “Alright, coffee girl. I would like my coffee in two minutes flat. No more no less. Brian is on a very tight schedule so we have to get him home in time for his nap.”

So Brian was his name. “Your wish is my command, good sir,” you said, bowing at him before turning around to start the drinks. You could hear Shawn giggle behind you, sending an eruption of butterflies to your stomach.

Shawn felt a slight nervous tinge as well. One that wasn’t quite his. He felt completely natural around you but maybe his soulmate was somewhere else feeling nervous about a presentation or something.

You gave the boys their coffee, sticking your tongue out at Shawn when he commented on how it took three and a half minutes instead of two and demanded his money back. You returned to the counter, trying your best to focus on studying. You kept getting distracted by Shawn’s voice, which carried across the shop, as he talked to Eileen. He was sitting in the same two person table against the wall that you used to sit in during your weekly visits.

“You need to go talk to him.” You jumped slightly when you noticed Eileen next to you.

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” you replied tentatively, flipping the page of your book in hopes that it would make it look like you were actually studying. The burst of confidence was gone and you came to the reality that you were both no longer the same person you used to be, therefore, you couldn’t keep that same dynamic.

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno. Just a feeling.”

“Go talk to him. I know you want to.” She gave you a knowing look and you sighed. “I’ll take over for you for a bit. Go talk to your best friend.”

“But he’s with Brian and I don’t really know Brian and what if they don’t want to talk to me they just wanted to hang out and-”

“Y/N.”

Suddenly, the butterflies grew, and it became more of bird wings than butterflies. You took a deep breath and made you way over there, praying that it would be over quickly and you could go back to studying by yourself.

You quietly pulled up a chair and sat in it, waiting for Shawn to finish whatever story he was telling Brian.

“Y/N, just in time,” he said with enthusiasm. “I was just telling Brian the story about Willy the window cat.”

“Ahh, a classic.” Shawn could sense your unease and quickly introduced you to Brian. He was well aware of your lack of people skills and how uncomfortable you got around new people.

You spent the better part of the rest of the hour catching up with each other, Shawn doing a lot more talking than you, which you were completely fine with. You tried your best to not show how nervous you felt.

Even as you tried your best to hide it, Shawn was picking up on the nervous habits. Your lifestyles might’ve changed but you were still the shy girl who subconsciously picked at the inside of her elbow and bounced her foot excessively when nervous. It didn’t matter if you hadn’t seen each other in years, he still knew you like the back of his hand.

There were days, back when you were really friends, where he would reach over and grab your hand so you would stop picking, or place his hand on your knee to stop the bouncing. He chose to ignore it now, realizing that you had grown apart, and now wasn’t the time to jump back in so intimately. You were always self conscious about the habits and he didn’t want to make you more nervous by pointing them out.

Even though he was more focused on you throughout the conversation, he noticed how Brian was seemingly getting more and more bored hearing him talk. As much as he wanted to stay and talk to you, he knew he should probably get going. This was supposed to be a quick pit stop to drop in and say hello, not an hour long catch up with the girl he used to be sure was his.

“We should get going. I think Brian is going to walk home if I stay here much longer.” Brian’s head perked up at the mention of his name and Shawn chuckled.

“Meet you at the car. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He was up and out the door in a matter of seconds, causing Shawn to chuckle again.

It didn’t sit all that well with you though.

Oh no, he doesn’t like me.

He thinks I’m some weirdo who doesn’t talk.

I barely know the guy and he already hates me.

“We should meet up, just the two of us, sometime. I’m on a break from tour if you’re free anytime soon,” Shawn said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “And don’t worry about Brian. I think he’s just tired.”

It did little to ease your fears but you smiled like it did anyways. Were you that easy to read? “Uhh, yeah. I have exams next week but we can meet after that.”

“Alright, how does the eighteenth sound?”

“That works.” You stood up and put your chair back at the table it came from, turning around to find Shawn closer than you expected him to be.

“Awesome. Text me your address so I can pick you up and take you somewhere.”

“Okay.” He threw you his signature smile and it made you melt a little.

“It was great seeing you, Y/N. Tell Eileen I said bye.”

“Good seeing you too and you got it.”

He pulled you into a quick side hug and left.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t study for the rest of your shift. Only three more customers came in within the two hours you had left, so you spent a decent amount of time staring at the wall and stressing about meeting up with Shawn. Two weeks gave you plenty of time to stress about it, which led to thinking of ways to get out of it.

Maybe if I don’t text him the address, he’ll forget, you thought as you stared at your phone the next day, messages open to Shawn’s name, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. It could work. That was enough to convince you to turn off your phone and worry about it later. You went back to working on the presentation you were working on, only pausing when you felt the buzz buzz of your phone telling you that you got a text.

From Shawn: Hey, what’s your address? What time do you want me to pick you up?

You panicked slightly, upset that your plan had already fallen apart. You decided to ignore it for the time being. You would worry about it later.

“Hey, Y/N, can I borrow your phone for a second? Mine’s dead,” Alana asked as she came into the dorm.

“Sure,” you said as you handed her the phone, not bothering to look away from your computer.

“Who’s Shawn and why is he asking where you live?”

Your eyes widened as you realized you forgot to clear the message. “He’s just an old friend. We’re uhh meeting up since we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Well are you going to text him back or do I have to do it?”

“I will, later.”

“You’re actually going to do it?” she asked with a curious smile. “And you’re actually going to meet up with him?”

“Yeah . . .”

“I’m holding you to this.”

“What, why? I’m capable of handling my own social life.”

“Sure you are. You’re not getting out of this though. I know that look.”

You sighed and glared at her. She knew you too well. “Do you actually need my phone?”

“Yes, I need to call my mom.” She sent you a sweet smile and you shook your head. “Thank you.”

You texted Shawn at 9:12 that night, six hours after he sent the original message. 9:12 specifically so it looked like you just saw it and responded as soon as you did, not like you ignored it and were planning to send it at a specific time, like 9:15.

He responded thirty seconds later with a thumbs up.

The day of the meetup was stressful. You had already been in your head about it for the past two weeks, but you really started worrying when you realized you had no idea what was going to happen.

Shawn refused to tell you where you were going, only telling you to dress comfortably and that you would only be gone for a few hours. Being a person who liked schedules and knowing exactly what was going on, this didn’t make you too happy. It sounded a lot like a date, which only made you more stressed.

“Do you think this will be okay?” you asked Alana. You were wearing jean shorts and a semi-cute top. Not too fancy but not too casual.

“Is this a date or friend meetup?”

“Friend meetup.”

“You look great.” She could sense the hesitation as you looked in the mirror, deciding if you agreed with her or not. “You’re gonna be fine. From what I’ve heard, you were best friends for a long time. You’ll be back to that in no time.”

“I don’t know. It’s been so long and-” You were interrupted by a text from Shawn telling you he was there if you were ready.

“Go have fun. Take a deep breath and stop worrying about it, alright?”

“Okay.” You gave her a smile before putting your phone in your back pocket and leaving. You could see Shawn leaning against his car and looking at his phone once you left the building.

Shawn had been quite excited to hang out with you again. There wasn’t any part of him that was nervous until he went to get drinks for the two of you that morning. It had been slowly building up all day, but it felt more like his soulmate’s than his own.

“Hey, you,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“You bet,” you smiled back at him, walking to the other side of the car to get in.

“I got you a frappuccino.” He gestured to the cup holder. “I don’t know if what you like has changed but it’s what you used to get so I hope it’s okay.”

“My taste hasn’t changed a bit,” you chuckled. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

“Of course. What better way to rekindle our friendship than by reliving the old times?”

“True, true.” You discretely wiped your palms on your shorts, unsure if it was from nerves or the heat. “Want to tell me where you’re going?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.” His eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He knew how much it was bothering you.

“This feels like a first date,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. You knew that Shawn was like this by default, but you couldn’t help but feel a little extra awkward anyways.

“Not my intention,” he chuckled. “I just wanted to be nice.”

“I know, I’m just awkward.”

Shawn laughed and shook his head.

You didn’t drive for much longer, arriving at a small park no more than fifteen minutes after you started.

“I figured we could walk and catch up, if you’re good with that.”

“That’s good. Why didn’t you just tell me we were going to the park though?”

“Wanted you to get worked up about it.”

You gasped. “That’s mean.”

“Gotta balance the niceness out somehow.”

You spent two hours walking around and catching up. You felt yourself ease up as you talked. He was still your Shawn and he barely changed from the last time you talked. The evening ended with a hug and promise to hang out again soon.

“See,” Alana told you when you told her how well it went. “Sometimes you need to just give yourself the push.”

The more and more time you spent together, the more and more Shawn became sure that you were the mystery soulmate whose emotions he had been feeling.

He would feel a twinge of extra excitement before you hung out or right before you texted him I got an A on that essay!!!!!

He was never completely sure though and never told you about it. He wanted to test the theory but wasn’t sure how he could do it without you knowing.

Meanwhile, your search for your soulmate slowed. You came to terms that they would come when the time was right and that you needed to enjoy life as it was. Your best friend was on a break from his hectic life for the first time in a long time and you wanted to spend all the time you could with him. You felt a little less anxious when you were around him, which could also be attributed to the lack of school work due to summer break, but you liked to believe he was helping.

The great thing about Shawn was that he knew not to push too hard. Alana didn’t always know when to stop pushing you towards doing things out of your comfort zone. You’ll admit, it was sometimes good for you. Other times, it caused way more anxiety than necessary and you would be out of it for the rest of the day. Shawn, on the other hand, could tell when something really could be too much and would stop.

There was only one time when he knew he was pushing too hard but continued anyways.

“You wanna be my date to the Grammys?” You had discussed his nomination earlier that day, but he never mentioned bringing someone with him before.

“Date?” You had a playful smirk on your face and Shawn just rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder.

“Do you wanna be my extra person who’s my best friend, not date, cause I don’t have a date, date?

“As amazing as that sounds, I don’t think so. Way too many people.” You hoped he would just drop the subject.

“Come on, it would be fun. Besides, how often do you get an invitation to the Grammys?

“Never . . . because I don’t want to go.”

“Please, Y/N. I don’t have anyone else to take and we would have such a good time.”

“Take Aaliyah.”

“She probably has stuff going on.”

You have tons of other friends. Take one of them.”

“Yeah but you’re my best friend and I want to take you.”

“Shawn I really don’t think I should. There’s gonna be a ton of people there and I don’t have the money to buy a fancy dress-”

“I’ll buy you a dress and stay with you the entire night.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. Besides-”

“Please, Y/N. I will beg you every day until you say yes. Just this one time, then I promise I will never ever make you go to a party or awards show of any kind.”

“Fine,” you sighed. You knew that it was a bad idea but you also knew that Shawn would hold true to the begging.

“Thank youuu.” He reached over and pulled you into a hug

“You owe me.”

The week before the Grammys was more anxiety inducing than anything in your entire life.

You got your dress a month ago but was starting to have second thoughts on it. Was it fancy enough? You had scrolled through endless pictures of past Grammy looks and everything looked so much more elaborate than your midnight blue dress. Tiffany had picked out the dress for you, noting how you wanted something elegant but nothing that would make you stick out.

You had to admit, you loved the dress. It fit you perfectly. You were yet to show Shawn but you knew he would love it. There was just one part of you that thought that everyone would think it was too simple and know that you had no business being there.

Shawn was doing his best to help you through the anxiety.

“Think of the best possible situation,” he told you.

“Nobody notices me and I stay completely under the radar or they note that I’m your friend who’s been seen with you before and leave me alone.”

“Now tell me the worst possible situation.”

“I do something embarrassing and stick out so that everyone notices and realizes that I’m obviously not supposed to be there.”

“See how the worst case scenario is so much more unlikely to happen?”

“Shawn, I know it’s irrational but I can’t help it. No matter what, I’m going to have a worst case scenario.”

“I know you are. Y/N, I do too. But think for a second,” he said. “Everyone else is too caught up in their own affairs to give a flying shit about what you’re doing. Unless you walk the red carpet with me, they probably won’t even notice you.”

You knew Shawn was right. You knew the worst case scenario was irrational, you just couldn’t help but dwell on it; you were so scared of embarrassing yourself. You were once again planning excuses for not being able to go. I’m really sick and throwing up everywhere or There’s a family emergency. I can’t go.

But even as you worried more and more, you knew how much you needed to do it for Shawn. He had done so much for you. You could do this one thing.

“You ready?” Shawn asked with a huge grin. He had been getting more and more excited by the day. The happiness blocked the intensely anxious feelings of his soulmate to the slightest. At this point, he was almost positive you were his soulmate. Of course, anyone could be this anxious for a long period of time and it just coincidental to yours. He wanted more time to think about it though and if it was true, to tell you at a time when you were in a better mental state.

“Not really, but I don’t think I have a choice,” you said through the door. You had to admit, you felt absolutely beautiful. Your thoughts of sticking out because of your dress were fading with every look in the mirror.

“I’m sure you look absolutely fantastic.”

“That’s not the problem but thank you.” You both giggled at that and you wished you could get over yourself and go out there.

“You know I’ll be with you the whole night, right?” His tone changed to a more serious one, and it was comforting to know he cared so much.

“I know, but still.”

“Can I see you now? This is easier when I can see your face.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, opening the door slightly before taking a deep breath and stepping out. You grasped your hands behind your back and smiled shyly as Shawn stared at you in awe.

“Wow,” he whispered. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you looked down to your feet.

“Come here.” He pulled you into a hug, his head resting on your head as yours was on his chest. “You’re going to be amazing tonight, okay? So stop worrying so much and enjoy it as it comes.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are, I just wanted to remind you.” He squeezed you tighter for a second and drew back, smiling widely before completely letting go.

You both said nothing as you got into the car to go to the show, allowing yourselves to try to relax before the long night ahead of you.

“Good luck,” you grinned as he prepared to get out of the car for the red carpet.

“Thanks, see you soon.” He took your hand and squeezed it, causing the butterflies in your stomach to explode. He stepped out of the car and winked at you, laughing at the finger guns you sent him before he closed the door.

You both agreed that it was best for you not to walk the red carpet. You didn’t want to be bombarded with questions asking if you were in a relationship and Shawn didn’t want to have to deal with the drama it would cause afterwards. You decided to meet inside, which led to you awkwardly standing around and waiting for him to come in.

After what felt like a lifetime and a half of avoiding eye contact and trying to look like you belonged, Shawn appeared at your side.

“How’d it go?”

“Good. Took some really hot pictures I think people will enjoy.”

“How is that possible? You can’t take hot pictures.”

“As if I haven’t caught you ogling over pictures of me before.”

“As if,” you scoffed and Shawn let out a loud laugh, which made you laugh as well.

“Alright, sassy pants, let’s find our seats.”

The show went well and you eventually realized that you got worked up more than you needed to. You didn’t have to interact with many people and you were able to sit in a seat and enjoy the show more than you thought you could.

What you should have been worried about though, was the afterparty.

Shawn said you didn’t have to go but you could see how much he wanted to. You also knew that if you told him you were going to go home but he should go to the party, he would opt to go with you. So, against your better judgement of what you were up for that night, you decided to go under the condition that Shawn would stay with you the whole time.

It was a little too loud and crowded for your liking but you did your best to hide the discomfort. The faster you got out, the better, but you were going to try to enjoy the party the best you could.

Unbeknownst to you, Shawn could definitely sense your discomfort. Something inside himself was telling him he should take you home, but everytime he suggested you leave, you insisted that you wanted him to have fun and that you would stay until he wanted to go. You knew he came with intentions of talking to other people and refused to leave until he did so.

“But I’ll have fun with you.”

“Shawn Mendes, if you do not socialize tonight, you will spend the rest of your life regretting it so I suggest you start mingling.”

“I feel like that’s an overstatement, but fine.” He started walking away but turned around when he noticed you weren’t following. “Come on, wallflower, I’m not allowed to leave you by yourself.”

You rolled your eyes but pushed yourself off the wall and made your way towards him anyways.

He made his way around, talking to friends and a few people he didn’t know, making sure you were close at all times. You were quiet the whole time, only speaking when asked a question. Like with Alana, people tended to be more interested in the person you were with than you yourself.

Shawn caught you picking at the inside of your elbow a few times. Part of him wanted to scold you for doing it, but he knew it was a subconscious habit and that you couldn’t do much about it unless he pointed it out. He would wrap his arm around you, gently placing his hand over the spot so you couldn’t pick at it. You would sigh once you realized you were doing it again and Shawn would squeeze your upper arm lightly, as if to say, it’s alright.

He eventually gave you a water bottle to keep your hands busy and you accepted it graciously, secretly in awe of how he knew you so well. He was about ready to go after that, drained from the long night, when someone called his name. He made his way towards them and you tried to follow but got blocked off by someone walking in between you. In a split second he was gone, and your anxiety only grew as you struggled to find him.

You found yourself standing next to a table, texting Shawn to tell him where to find you once he was ready to go. You hoped it wouldn’t take too long, but the voice who called him sounded like Niall’s, and you knew they would want to talk for a while.

Shawn was too busy talking to Niall to notice the growing anxiety coming from his soulmate. He didn’t even notice that you weren’t next to him.

You tried your best to blend in, something you thought you were doing a good job of, when someone who looked very vaguely familiar tried to talk to you.

“That dress looks quite lovely on you,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said rather quietly. There was an awkward pause for a second and you wondered if he was waiting for you to say something else.

“Enjoying the party?” He stepped slightly forward to let someone pass behind him.

You stepped back to keep the space, forgetting about the table and knocking into it full force. A loud clanging noise could be heard as a few platters flew off and your eyes grew wide at the realization of what you just did.

The man in front of you laughed but his attention was quickly called elsewhere.The people around you looked behind themselves to see what was going on. The looks of confusion and giggles probably lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was enough to send you into a full panic.

The lights were suddenly too bright and all the noises around you jumbled into a muffle. You pressed your back against a wall as you tried to gain your composure, panicking more when you couldn’t. The music was too loud for anyone to hear your rapid breathing but you wanted nothing more than for someone to come help you; for Shawn to come help you.

“Yeah we definitely need to meet up sometime soon,” Niall said to Shawn.

“Totally. I’m-” He was cut off by a paralyzing burst of panic. He didn’t even have to think to know it was you. The urge to protect you came over him and he quickly excused himself from Niall to find you.

It didn’t take long to see you standing against the wall and curling in on yourself. He felt like he couldn’t get there fast enough. There was nothing he wanted more than to take the worry away from you but it felt like there were a million people in between you.

“Breath, Y/N, breath,” he said once he finally made it to you. Your eyes locked with his and he could see the absolute panic in them. “I’m going to take your arm so we can go outside, okay?”

You nodded frantically, allowing Shawn to guide you to outside. The cool air was a relief but did little to calm you down. Shawn gently leaned you against a wall and put one of your hands on his chest.

“Breath with me, sweetheart,” he said, exaggerating his breathing to help you. “You’re okay. Just focus on breathing.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered once you calmed down and your breathing returned to a normal rate.

“Y/N, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I messed up your night and-”

“It’s not your fault. I know exactly how you feel and I promise you, it’s not your fault.” He could see from the look in your eyes that you didn’t believe him and it broke his heart. “Come here,” he said as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your waist, one pressing your head to his chest.

“I know you think it’s your fault, but you did absolutely nothing wrong,” he said lowly, leaning his head down close to your ear so you could hear him. “If anything, it’s my fault for not realizing you weren’t with me.” He felt you tense up and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You are amazing and wonderful and so strong, Y/N. We all have our low points. Nobody is blaming you for anything.”

You didn’t say anything and Shawn took that as a sign to stop talking. He held you in his embrace for a few minutes longer, relaxing a little when he felt your arms wrap around him.

“Let’s get you home.”

“You should stay.”

“Y/N.”

You dropped it and let him call an Uber, hugging him again once he finished. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt yourself once again wishing he was your soulmate.

After a long talk with Shawn the next morning, you decided to go to the doctor to get an official diagnosis. The social anxiety diagnosis also came with the recommendation of therapy. It was time to take control of your anxiety and your life.

Shawn was there for it all. Helping you through the bad days and celebrating the good ones. You were celebrating a good one today and Shawn could feel your happiness before you even walked through the door.

“You won’t believe what I did!” You exclaimed once you were seated on the couch. “I needed this tomato sauce but I couldn’t find it anywhere in the store but I knew they had it somewhere. So instead of not getting it, I actually asked one of the people working there where it was.”

“Good job!” The smile on his face was huge as he gave you a high-five. “Was it really that scary?”

“Yes, but I did it, which is more important than if it’s scary.”

He was so proud of you. It had taken a few months, but therapy was doing wonders for you. It might have been small progress, but even small progress was big progress.

He had held off on telling you about the soulmate situation, wanting you to be in a better space before he dropped the bombshell. Now felt like a good time to do it.

“Not to take away from you, but I have some good news myself.”

“Tell me!” The eager look on your face made him even more nervous for some reason, but he knew he needed to do it.

“A few months ago, I started feeling these feelings.”

“Oh wow.”

“Shut up,” he giggled. “They were emotions that weren’t mine. Like, they felt like someone else’s.”

You nodded your head, having an idea of what was coming: he finally found his soulmate and it wasn’t you.

“And at first I couldn’t figure out who they belonged to but then I met you again.” He looked up at you but your face was blank. “And then I was starting to feel feelings you were experiencing. Like you would text me about being happy and that background feeling of extra happiness would be there but I wasn’t sure if it was really you.”

“Are you trying to test it out now?” He could see you trying to put the pieces together.

“No, I kinda already did in a way?” You looked even more confused so he kept going. “When we went to the Grammys I could feel how anxious you were. And then we went to the party and I could feel it but it wasn’t anything that was too overwhelming. Then, I went to talk to Niall, which is when you had that panic attack, right?”

You nodded.

“And I was fine but then there was this really really intense second of pure panic and I just knew. Some kind of protective instinct went off in me and I just had to get to you.”

There was a pause as he let you process what was happening.

“Y/N, I think you’re my soulmate.”

There was a deafening silence but Shawn was too scared to look at your face to see your reaction.

“You really think?”

“I know it sounds crazy but-”

“Could we really be soulmates?”

“. . . yes?” He finally looked at you to see a smile creeping its way along your face.

“Holy fucking cow.” You both burst into laughter, leaning into each other as you did.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Shawn said once your laughs turned into tiny giggles. He looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes.

“I’m glad it’s you too.”

352 notes · View notes

silveny-dreams · 3 years

Note

Deaf Dex

P l e a s e 😭🥺

unlike my deaf!Linh headcanon, it would be fascinating if Dex was born deaf

(ableism tw? maybe?) I can just hear the stigmas now, the “oh if only you hadn’t insisted on being a bad match, then you wouldn’t have made a defective child” bullshit that Kesler and Juline have to put up with

The first two years Dex is alive, Kesler closes Slurps and Burps for the sake of his sanity and out of protest

because that’s his son they’re slandering and trivializing, that’s his life choices they’re blaming for something that isn’t in anyone’s control, and god help him he is NOT going to serve those same people their stupid hair color elixirs if they’re going to do that to him

Juline gets resources on raising a deaf child from the human world from Livvy, who approaches Juline even sooner than the triplets in this scenario

Dex grows up happy and healthy and wicked-good at lip reading, sign language, and speech (Kesler teaches Dex extensively about special skills until Dex can feel how soundwaves fluctuate when people speak and how that reflects on different moods and stuff, and Dex picks it up when practicing speech, even tho he can’t hear how he sounds)

(Kesler does this not out of a place of “I need my child to appear normal because I can’t handle having a non-normal child” but from a place of “I need to prove to all these prejudiced nobles with sticks up their asses that someone non-normal can live a normal life”)

Dex sees how people treat him differently and how shitty they are to his parents and it makes him even angrier about elven society than he was in the books

At first he’s not sure he even wants to try and go to Foxfire—why would he want to be around a bunch of assholes who blame his parents for his inability to hear?

But Kesler helps convince him that going to a noble school will be a way to Stick It to those people, that they won’t be able to throw their noble weight around to justify their rudeness if Dex himself becomes nobility

I love the idea that Sophie doesn’t know until like halfway through her first year at Foxfire that her best friend is deaf because he doesn’t tell her and things just. Go normally 😂

When Dex manifests as a technopath, he doesn’t hide it like he does in the books, because what if he can learn how to make a gadget that helps him hear?

Sophie tells him he’s wasting his time because he could be making such cooler stuff, but Dex is stubborn

I love the idea that he ends up meeting deaf!Linh at Exilium too

And at first he doesn’t want to get to know her

Because he’s DIFFERENT, he’s never heard a thing in his life, and what would it look like if the two deaf kids started hanging out together?

(“cool. That’s what it would look like. It would look cool. Plus she’s really nice. Idiot” Sophie tells him one day after Exilium training)

And once he finally caves and starts hanging out with her, he realizes that oh, it’s really nice to not have to put in the same effort to speak or read lips

They can just sign with each other. And no one but Sophie and Tam know what they’re saying

(Except maybe Fitz has been quietly teaching himself ASL as a gesture of apology for ignoring Dex before Sophie came to Foxfire, so sometimes Fitz gets bits and pieces. He doesn’t recognize one sign, but it’s because Dex made it up and it means wonderboy)

It’s nice, he realizes, not to be alone

He tests his hearing gadgets on Linh, with her permission, and at one point one of them works on her, like she can hear things around her, albeit muffled through the roar of water in her ears

Dex eagerly tries them on himself and hears nothing

He’s so upset that he closes himself off in his room for a few days

Linh’s the one who brings him out of his funk, because she comes to see him and sets the hearing gadgets on his desk, crushed into tons of pieces

“Why aren’t you going to use them?! I made them for us!” “I dunno, Dex. I don’t really think need them.” “Why not??” “I don’t know! I just...I like how I live right now. I don’t really need them. Hearing or not hearing, it doesn’t really take away anything from me.”

Dex had never even considered it like that

But from then on, he tries to make that his mantra. “Not hearing doesn’t mean I don’t live a full life”

And over time he realizes that maybe it’s true

BONUS: he is very curious about singing (because he only knows Dwarven singing, which is very different) so he tries to pick it up by having Sophie sing. Sophie sings terribly, which means Dex just imitates her terribly. He then does it every now and then to annoy his friends. Linh laughs at how the rest of the group winces

(if any of this is wrong or insulting to the HOH community, PLEASE shoot me a message and I’ll fix it immediately)

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xaphrin · 4 years

Text

Raven pitched forward, smirking as she took a sip of her wine. “Color me surprised, I didn’t know Damian Wayne had a sweet tooth.”

He lifted an eyebrow and shoved another bite of the chocolate torte in his mouth, never breaking eye-contact with her. Heat crawled up her neck, but she couldn’t look away from him. Raven tried not to focus on the way his tongue slid along his full lips, making sure he didn’t waste a crumb. It was a tease of power, and he knew it would burn her. Heat coiled in the pit of her stomach, and Raven tore her eyes away from him, giving him that small concession to save her sanity. The last thing she needed was to have inconvenient feelings for Damian Wayne.

“Jealous?” Damian picked up a bite of torte and held his fork out to her. “You can ask for some.”

Raven reached for the fork, but he pulled it out of her reach and leveled a stare at her. Oh. He… wanted to feed her? That was a step into an area she had never considered before. Raven glanced around the restaurant, realizing that there was more than one cell phone lifted, taking pictures of the two of them. One of the many hazards of being in public with a Wayne. Her stomach twisted and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Finally, she leaned forward and opened her mouth.

Damian grinned and ate the bite himself, never looking away from her.

“Jerk.” She pursed her lips, but couldn’t stop the twitch of a smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. God, he was infuriating sometimes. With no decorum whatsoever, she reached across the table and grabbed the torte from in front of Damian, taking a bite herself.

He laughed and leaned back in his chair watching her as if she completely fascinated him. But, more likely, he was trying to find something to tease her about. A soft silence settled between them before he filled it, tapping his fingers on the tablecloth. “So… after dinner, did you want to walk down by the bay?”

Raven picked up her head, her fork hanging out of her mouth as she blinked. What? The soft, silky torte turned to ash in her mouth and she forced herself to swallow. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Take a walk by the bay together.” Damian shrugged and tried to look unaffected, but she swore she could see the tips of his ears turn pink. “We’re still on a date, and you paid a thousand dollars for this. So… you might as well take advantage of it. Get your money’s worth.”

“Oh. Ah… I… sure?” If he had asked her this same question yesterday, she would have pulled out a whole ledger filled with reasons why this wasn’t a date and why they shouldn’t do date things. But, right now, Raven couldn’t think of a reason not to walk with him. They were sort of friends, she didn’t have anything else to do tonight. And… she was finding she didn’t mind his company all that much. In fact, she might have actually started to like him a little. It only took four damn years. Her toes curled in Donna’s shoes and she shifted, taking another bite of the torte as she tried to look unaffected. “I guess. Sure. It’s a nice night for it.”

Damian motioned for the waiter and paid the bill, while Raven kept watching him from under her lowered lashes. Jesus, he was handsome. Although she would rather eat crow than admit that out loud. Candlelight slid over his olive skin, casting curious shadows bathing him in mystery. Her stomach twisted as her eyes traced the stern line of his jaw and his full, decadent lips. Lips she wouldn’t mind giving a test kiss too. Just to see if they were really as soft as they looked. Not because she liked him like that. No. Of course not. This was Damian Wayne, her arch rival for the better part of four years, not some boy she happened to have a crush on.

She left a few bites of the torte for him and pushed the plate back to his side of the table. “I’ll need to text Donna and let her know I’ll be a bit later than eleven.”

“Oh no.” He lifted an eyebrow. “We’re staying out past curfew. How will she manage the scandal?”

Raven offered a sardonic smile. “I just want to make sure that when my body inevitably goes missing, she knows to check the bay first.”

He just rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop smiling.

Raven reached for her purse on the back of her chair, but it slipped on the shiny wood and fell to the hardwood floor. With a sharp crash, the snap closure cracked open with the shock of the impact, spilling the contents of her purse. She sat there, in complete, silent horror, as no less than twenty brightly colored condoms scattered across the floor around their table like suggestive confetti. Oh, fuck. This night could not possibly get any worse.

Frozen in shock, she sat there, not exactly knowing what to do. It wasn’t like she could deny ownership of the condoms, they came from her purse. She could try to make a joke, or explain the water balloon contingency plan, but nothing came out. The table next to them snorted into their food, trying not to make eye contact with Raven or Damian, and that somehow made it worse.

Damian looked from the floor to her face and then back again. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips together. “Oh. Wow. You… seem prepared.”

“Donna. Water balloons. Not… mine?” Raven found herself stumbling through a series of weaker and weaker excuses, until she finally gathered enough of her wits to stoop down and shove the condoms back in her purse. She was going to murder Donna when she got back to their house. Murder her and bury her in the basement of their old house.

“You missed one.” Damian, lips pressed together as he obviously tried to stifle a laugh, reached across the table and handed it to her. “While I like to think my stamina is impressive, twenty times in one night seems a bit much.”

Raven snatched the condom from him and glared, pulling herself to her feet. “Let’s just go.”

She stormed out of the restaurant, trying to hide her shame as she stepped onto the street. Of all the things that could possibly go wrong on her not-date with Damian Wayne, an exploding purse full of condoms was somehow not on her list of worst-case scenarios. She stood in the streetlight, taking a deep breath of the air, tinged with moist heat of late-spring, and felt her embarrassment flood her. She buried her face in her hands and tried not to feel so utterly inept at this. How could she be so bad at just going on a date?

“So…” Damian wandered up behind her, his voice surprisingly casual. “I’m learning more and more about Gotham U’s resident hardass.”

Raven started to walk away from him, but Damian followed, his steps sound and sure as he caught up with her.

“One - she really likes kittens. Two - she makes me laugh more than I realized.”

Raven’s feet stopped at the subtle compliment and she turned around to look at him. He continued to walk up to her, his hands shoved in his pockets. How in the world did he make this look so easy? Like he knew what he was doing? Her stomach twisted painfully as he stopped in front of her, his eyes searching her face like he was admiring art. A smirk played on his lips, and his eyes turned dark as he pitched forward to look at her.

“Three - she apparently really likes to have sex.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Raven turned back around and started to move down the sidewalk, walking away from him as fast as shoe could. “Donna thought it would be funny.”

“Funny?” Damian fell into step next to her, still smirking. “Or, was she looking out for you?”

“Looking out for me?” Raven turned at him, leveling a flat stare. “Oh, please. As if we’d ever have sex.”

“Why’s that?” His face turned into an unreadable mask, and he lifted an eyebrow, questioning. He seemed genuinely surprised that sex was off limits, and Raven didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like they were actually involved. She wasn’t even sure if they tolerated each other, let alone liked each other.

“Damian.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and sighed in defeat. “You hate me. You’ve hated me since freshman year. You’ve done nothing but push me and tease me for the past four years. At what point do you think we are ever going to have sex?”

“I don’t hate you, Raven. I’ve never hated you. I… always thought we were kind of friends.”

She lifted her eyes and looked at him, blinking. “What?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if releasing a tension that had been building inside him for years. “All those times I pushed at you during school was because I knew you could do better than what you were giving yourself credit for. I fought you on everything because you were always ready to see things from different points of view - when you were challenged.” He shifted, his hands falling out of his pockets in a small show of vulnerability. “And I teased you because you were always so damn cute when you got angry. Plus, you gave as good as you got. I’ve been roasted by you enough times to know at least that.”

Raven allowed herself to feel at least a little pride at that.

“I’ve never hated you. Not once since I’ve met you. You’re smart - brilliant, actually - clever, witty, and…” He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed. “…beautiful.”

What.

Raven found herself unable to breathe. She stood there, staring at him as her mouth opened and closed several times, hunting for anything to say. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that he had to have heard it over the sounds of the city. It felt like her head was swimming and her insides were melting, and she couldn’t make heads or tales of anything. Damian Wayne not only complimented her, but he called her beautiful. The man who could date supermodels and royalty, thought she was beautiful. Something inside her twisted with joy and excitement, and she found herself trying to explain her emotions away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t deny her own feelings anymore. After all this time together, maybe she really did like him.

Steeling her nerves, she stepped up to him and lifted her face to his. “Don’t think this compliment erases everything you’ve ever said to me, Dami.”

His lips twitched as he fought back a smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“And I’m still not planning on having sex with you tonight.”

He arched an eyebrow, and she heard his breath catch in his throat. Was he… excited? His tongue wet his lips and he spoke softly, as if unsure about what she was almost offering. “There seems to be a qualifier in that sentence.”

“I’m not planning on having sex with you tonight,” she repeated before turning back around towards the bay. Her heart was pounding, excitement and playfulness coursing through her. She felt nymph-like, leading him on a chase after her. If Damian wanted to consider her beautiful, then she would try to be as beautiful as humanly possibly. She lowered her voice to a sultry, flirtatious hum, knowing he could hear the suggestion in her tone. “But… it doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind in the future.”

With a teasing smile, she turned toward the marina entrance.

Missed a step in Donna’s too-big shoes.

And promptly fell down the stairs.

#damirae #demonbirds #just your daily update of these two idiots being idiots #in which Raven tries to flirt and it goes OH SO WRONG #thank you so much for allowing me this absolutely ridiculous au #because I'm having a stupid amount of fun #college au

187 notes · View notes

joontella · 4 years

Text

achromatic.

Yandere!Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Word Count: 11.1k

Genre(s): Angst, Slight Fluff, (HORRIBLY WRITTEN) Smut

Trigger Warning(s): Mentions of religion or lack thereof, blood, murder, idk how the human body works, (unknown) consumption of blood, manipulation, stalking, male masturbation (again, horribly written), Namjoon is an asshole, and musical terms because i play music rip, minor character death, slight gore. it gets really shitty towards the end. i’m sorry

Merry Merry! It’s Peppermint! Your gift is finally here, @exhausted-joy! I’m sorry for the wait. I had to make sure that it was perfect. This is my first time doing this, and I really wanted to give it my all. Please forgive me, and thank you for putting up with my antics in the server. I hope you enjoy it!

I also want to thank Saniya (@smeraldos-blog), Mari (@joheun-saram), Hannah (@spicykoreantatertots), Ley (@pars-ley), Avery (@ksmuttherapy), and everyone else who tolerated and/or helped me out! I love you all and thank you so much for the help and support! I’m so happy to have met you all!

ach·ro·mat·ic /akrəˈmadik/

adjective

without color.

“Damn. There goes my chance of starting my winter break with a passing grade.” One woman groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about? You have a solid ‘C’! I’m literally failing everything!” Her friend responded, as her arms waved in a cartoonish rendition of exasperation. “And whose fault is that?” “Not mine! This semester was nothing but a months-long depressive episode. How could I focus with everything that’s going on?”

He so desperately wishes that they would shut up, or at the very least, take their obnoxiously loud conversation elsewhere. Namjoon twirled the ink pen in his hand with a practiced precision only years of being hunched over paperwork could provide. However, those were nothing but pipe dreams as the two students turned their attention over to him. “There’s Kim Namjoon! He’s had the top spot for years now, way before he was enrolled here.” One began babbling quite loudly whilst pointing to the man in question. “I bet he came out of the womb with high marks. I heard that he scored in the 99th percentile for his newborn screening tests.” The other swooned in response to her own musings.

Obviously, these two were much more idiotic than he had originally thought. It didn’t take an expert to read his body language: the way that he twirled his pen faster, as if that could speed up the agonizing conversation he was being forced to bear witness to; the way his jaw clenched so tightly that it could easily break a metal wire; and the position his shoulders held, resembling an animal coiling in preparation to strike or flee. He pleaded to gods he didn’t even believe in for the duo to be quickly eradicated with a swift strike of lightning. According to the calculations he made swiftly in his head, the chances of something like that happening were infinitesimally small. How unfortunate.

Deciding that the best course of action to take would be to leave the two neanderthals to their devices, Namjoon did just that. He quickly snapped his book shut with one hand and a loud, meaningful clap as the pages suddenly collided with each other. If that didn’t make the nuisances jump in surprise, his words would.

“Although I’m a source of inspiration and wonder to many, it’s degrading to hear someone so openly refer to me in a way that one would to an exotic zoo animal,” He began. Namjoon’s tone was cool and even, carrying an air of regality all the while retaining a bitter edge of contempt and disdain for both the conversation and the mere existence of the two original party members.

Finally, the two felt the brunt of the consequences their crimes on Namjoon’s ears had to offer. They both visibly wilted, reminding the tall man of his mother’s daisies being roasted and withering under the dry summer heat. Normally, this would have been more than enough to diffuse the situation and lift him of his auditory burden. However, his heart ached for more. His brain so desperately yearned for more stimulation and a rush of dopamine.

He decided to twist the knife, so to speak.

“Also, you too could rise to the top.” Namjoon said as he began to turn away.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the two wilted flowers gain new life and their faces brighten with newfound hope. The loudest of the two even had the audacity to whimper a pathetically optimistic, “Really?”

Twist. Twist. Twist!

“Of course~.” Namjoon purred, deciding to turn to face his victims’ satisfying demise. His heart threatened to beat in double time in anticipation.

Although their anxiously awaiting smiles made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny the mirth swirling alongside the disgust in his belly.

“First off, instead of blaming your inadequacies solely on the tumultuous events of this year, take responsibility for your shortcomings. Only children avoid blaming themselves.”

He could hear the glass shattering as their faces fell in a tandem that most would find heartbreaking. He found it utterly amusing. Now, he would take his leave. After receiving the reaction he desired and more, Namjoon wanted nothing more than to leave the duo to stew in their humiliation. Yet, one last thing lingered. He had yet to land the finishing blow that would ensure that he wouldn’t be bothered by these two pieces of scum ever again.

Twist. Twist! TWIST!

“Before I forget, avoid talking so loudly. As you may or may not have noticed, I was trying to study. You know, one of the things that facilitates good grades? I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but your incessant bantering made it increasingly difficult to do so. Might I suggest that you follow my example and do the same? Maybe then, one day, you could take my place at the top.”

Namjoon wasn’t even facing them anymore. His back was to the two women, further solidifying his dismissal of them. With a simple and curt wave of his hand, he simply uttered,

“Ladies.”

And he was on his way.

“Exam results will be posted this afternoon. I trust that you all scored high enough marks to keep our university in high regard.” Your professor droned from the front of the lecture hall. “I know that many of you despise the fact that a standardized test is still administered in college, but so far, it is the only way to ensure that Mugunghwa National Academy is churning out bright students worthy enough to contribute to society!”

The students in question couldn’t care less about their scores or the school’s prestige. All they were worried about was getting the hell out of there after two hours of examination and stifling silence. They all stood from their seats and slung their bags across their bodies. A disgruntled murmur rang throughout. Quite frankly, you were no different.

As you hugged your notebook close to your body, your professor stopped you as you reached the lecture hall door.

“Ah, Miss (L/N). A word, please.”

Surprised, you let out a soft, “Sure.” and walked over to the podium where your professor started to neatly stack and organize his papers.

“As you know, Miss (L/N), you are one of the two best students we’ve had at this academy recently.”

You shifted your weight awkwardly at the sudden praise. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you began to speak. “I mean, I guess? I wouldn’t go that far, but I suppose that records and the numbers do suggest that I’m performing quite well.” Your professor scowled at your response. You were a bright young woman. You deserved to flaunt it and soak up the praise every once in a while, right? He folded his arms and sighed deeply causing your brain to go into overdrive on how you could rectify the situation. “While pride does come short of a fall, you should learn to take compliments when they’re given, (Y/N). I promise you that you won’t become an egomaniac anytime soon as a result.” He said gently, causing your nerves to subside. Right. Maybe you should just accept compliments. A little self esteem boost never hurt anybody, right? “Thank you, professor, but may I ask why you’re telling me this?” You asked, trying to move the conversation along as politely as you could. You had an hour before you were due to go to the college’s radio station and prepare for this evening’s broadcast. Hopefully, your professor would get to the point so you could quickly grab a bite to eat before you started airing.

“Oh yes, of course! I’m sorry! I said all this to tell you that I have your exam results already. Seeing as how you are the brightest in your class, you finished early, giving me enough time to grade yours while your peers were working. I think that you’ll find the results to your liking, Miss (L/N).” He grinned, handing you a white manila envelope with the school’s insignia printed on the front.

You quirked a brow and opened it. You were then greeted by the name of the school, its motto, and yet another print of the school emblem on the header. Your (E/C) eyes scanned the page until you found what you were looking for:

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: (𝑳/𝑵), (𝒀/𝑵)

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒎

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 98/100

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌:

1 𝒐𝒇 300

You stood there, dumbfounded. The paper you once held gingerly and timidly was wrinkling and threatening to tear under your now iron grip. You were now number one. Somehow, some way, you managed to best Kim Namjoon. Mugunghwa’s already carefully balanced and fragile ecosystem was crumbling around you. What have you done?

“I take it that you’re in shock. I’ll leave you alone to celebrate.” Your professor said smoothly as he slung his coat over his shoulder. “Congratulations, (Y/N). Please enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Uh huh… Will do…” You uttered dumbly.

Mugunghwa National Academy ran on strict rules, but most of them were unspoken. For the sake of your sanity and that of the rest of the student body (and let’s face it, staff, too), you intended to follow those sacred and silent rules to the letter.

Rule Number One: Don’t look in the janitor’s closet near the athletics facilities. You may not come out the same way as you came in.

Rule Number Two: If the cafeteria serves meatloaf, avoid it at all costs. Only eat it if you want to get sick and purposely miss class.

Rule Number Three: Kim Namjoon is the best at everything. He is to be number one until Hell freezes over.

Rule Number Four: In order to keep peace and balance between the nations, (Y/N) (L/N) must always come in second. This is the natural order of things.

You were content with being in second place. To be frank, you preferred to leave the pomp and circumstance of being the top dog to Namjoon. He was more equipped to bear the burden, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like your future career was depending on you being the best. You could skate by with a silver medal and leave Namjoon with the gold. You preferred the look of silver, anyway.

Now look at what you've done. There’s no doubt that the records have been updated by now. Your professor did grade yours early, and it’s reasonable to assume that Namjoon’s was as well. You’d inadvertently torn a hole in the gossamer fabric that was Mugunghwa National Academy. With one exam, you signed the collective death certificate of every other person besides Kim Namjoon himself.

May God have mercy on your wretched soul.

“Young Master, your father would like to have a word with you in his study.” The head butler of the Kim mansion stated simply.

For the second time that day, Namjoon clenched his jaw tightly. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to the older gentleman who was automatically waiting at his side to collect the article of clothing. He hadn’t even gotten through the door and already his father wanted to speak with him. This didn’t bode well.

“Seokjin, did he mention why he’d want to see me?” Namjoon asked dryly. Seokjin simply shook his head and hung his coat on the nearby rack.

“He only mentioned that it was urgent, so I suggest that it would be in your best interest to make it there expeditiously.”

This certainly did not bode well. Kim Joonho was a man of few words. Most would say that he’s the very definition of “actions speak louder than words”. Whenever the CEO of Kim Industries did something, people watched in equal parts starstruck awe and fear. However, when the CEO of Kim Industries deemed something important enough to speak on, there was no choice in the matter. You either listened intently or you perished in more ways than one. This was no different for Joonho’s family. In fact, he was worse to them. Working under the guise of caring for his family, Joonho was more stoic to his wife and children.

Regardless of his debatably righteous intentions, it sent the Kim family into delicately managed dysfunction. Simply put, Kim Joonho never spoke to Namjoon out of wishing to connect with his son on a more personal level. Namjoon was the next heir to Kim Industries. Being his son was an unfortunate side effect.

“Sir, I know that I did implore you to hurry, but-”

“What?” Namjoon growled. His nerves were shot to shit today. Anything that impeded his meeting with his father and his goal to quickly get it over with was met with hostility.

Seeming to understand this, Seokjin cleared his throat and motioned a gloved hand towards the mansion’s threshold.

“You know better than to walk in the house with your shoes still on,” The Kim butler began smoothly as he made his way over to Namjoon to collect his shoes. “I do understand that you are upset, but you shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement so drastically that you forget such basic cultural conventions.”

Namjoon sighed sharply and bit back a retort that was bubbling in his throat. Arguing with Seokjin was pointless. As per usual, he was correct. Engaging in such petty conflicts would only worsen things.

“Right. I suppose I was quite hasty. Thank you.” Namjoon sighed whilst peeling off his shoes.

“I do believe that an apology is in order, Young Master.”

Namjoon was already halfway across the foyer, about to ascend the grand staircase leading to the upper floors when Seokjin’s cheeky remark reached his ears. He felt his blood begin to simmer in his veins and his muscles stiffen.

“The fact that I haven’t fired you by now and ruined any chances of you gaining any further employment should be enough of an apology. You’re treading on thin ice, Seokjin. Remember your place in this world.”

With that, he continued his journey to the final boss room within the Kim family mansion: his father’s study. The last he heard of Seokjin was a sly chuckle and the clicking of his polished leather shoes against the floor. Staff were not guests. Therefore, they were not allowed the privilege of removing their shoes. They were expendable. They needn’t get too comfortable.

Despite how much he detested it, Namjoon couldn’t deny that cold chill of anxiety that frosted his entire body. His father never wanted to talk to him. Ever. He could count on his hands the times that Joonho requested his presence. He could count on only one hand how many times Joonho requested his presence to celebrate his son’s successes. Their relationship was solely professional. There was no love to be found, no matter how hard you read between the lines. Even in as high of a position as Namjoon is in, he is still subservient to his father.

That’s the natural order of things.

“Come in, Namjoon.” Joonho’s voice rang from behind the large mahogany doors.

Almost cartoonishly, the hinges squeaked like Namjoon was uncovering the entrance to a haunted crypt. Namjoon decided long ago that was an eerily apt way of describing his father’s study.

Naturally, Namjoon obeyed his father and entered the room. Dead center, there sat Kim Joonho on his throne. Sitting with perfect posture behind the large oak desk, Joonho stared his son down with cold eyes filled with disdain. How Namjoon desperately wished he could gouge them out with his father’s prized letter opener.

“Don’t waste my time. Have a seat. I don’t have all day.” Joonho snapped.

“Of course. How are you today, father?”

The CEO’s eyes narrowed at his son’s inquiry. “Spare me the niceties, boy. Sit down. We have business to discuss.”

Before Namjoon could interject, Joonho was already reaching into a drawer and produced a white manila envelope. Upon closer inspection, one could see Mugunghwa National Academy’s insignia emblazoned on the front. Once Namjoon was properly seated, he reached out and grabbed the parcel.

“May I ask what this is?” “You may not. You have eyes, boy. Read it for yourself.”

The frigid chill of anxiety was soon being replaced with the molten heat of fury. Some tiny part of Namjoon’s mind was concerned that he would develop a fever at the sudden and constant shifts in his body temperature. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t afford for his health to decline. That would be another thing for his father to berate him for.

“Of course. My apologies, father.” Namjoon whispered as he undid the envelope’s fastening. Once he did so, he pulled the paper out with an air of nonchalance. Surely, it must have been another letter from the school to congratulate him on some academic achievement he didn’t even realize existed. However, in his eyes and in the eyes of his father, it was the exact opposite.

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: 𝑲𝒊𝒎, 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓(𝒔): 𝑩𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 96/100

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌: 2 𝒐𝒇 300

For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon’s world fell apart before his very eyes. Suddenly the sturdy and imposing columns holding up the large study appeared to crumble around him. The fire that crackled in the fireplace was reduced to nothing but pathetic cinders. He felt the ground split beneath his feet and his father… His father grew to a monstrous size in comparison to his surroundings, suddenly hunched over his son in preparation to strike.

“This must be some mistake! The results must have gotten mixed up! I-”

“Enough!” Joonho boomed. He swiftly slammed his hand down on his desk, successfully frightening his son into silence. “Only children avoid blaming themselves. I thought I taught you to accept responsibility! How dare you blame your inadequacies on the people who made them apparent?!”

Namjoon clenched his fists tightly in his lap and pushed down the urge to go through on his original plan of plucking his father’s eyeballs out.

“Can’t you see? Whoever graded my exam was clearly incompetent. If they had a brain stem, they would know that I am only capable of producing top-class work! Just like you should not be blamed for one measly employee’s mistake, I should not be blamed for the mistake of someone beneath me!” Namjoon exclaimed. Once he finished his spiel, he found himself standing up, but he didn’t remember willing his muscles to do so.

“This entire conversation is pointless. It’s inefficient at best and mind-numbing at its worst! For someone who values time and money more than his own family, I find it quite curious that you’re willing to waste both so frivolously.”

Now, it was Joonho’s turn to clench his jaw and his fists. Despite the utter disdain he felt for the situation, the patriarch had to admit the merit in his son’s retort. His pride would never let him express the sliver of admiration that stirred within him at Namjoon’s courageous display.

Nobody dared talk back to Kim Joonho. That was the natural order of things.

“Regardless of who’s truly at fault, find this (Y/N) (L/N). She usurped your throne, Namjoon. She deserves to be punished for her transgression.”

“Of course. She’s public enemy number one, but she won’t be number one ever again.”

With that, the young master of the Kim household turned his back on the old master and shut the door to the crypt behind him.

“Aaaaaand now, we’re back after our break!” Your co-host chirped from beside you.

The red on-air sign glowed warmly overhead, creating a sense of coziness and heat in the otherwise cold station. You wrapped your cardigan closer around you before adjusting your mic.

“And we’re about to go into our winter break soon. How fitting!” You posited, trying to match your co-host’s energy.

“That’s right! Mugunghwa exams are finally over, and the scores and ranks have already been updated for some! Care to talk about that, (Y/N)?” Taehyung, your co-host, wiggled his sharp eyebrows in his quest to prod for information.

Normally, his rectangular grin and bright eyes would warm your heart. Today, however, you wanted to punch that devilish smirk right off of him. You should have known that Tae would have suddenly caught wind of your latest academic achievement. He’s the university’s most involved (read: nosiest) student.

“Not really… But you won’t shut up until I do, so…” You sighed as you spun around in your swivel chair. Once you stopped your cycle, you scooted closer to the microphone and cleared your throat. “I got a 98 on the exam. My professor stopped me after class and told me the news.”

Not that anyone but you and the sound director, Yoongi, would see it, but Taehyung’s impish smile turned into a disappointed pout. “Ah, listen to our (Y/N). Always dodging the important questions. Such a tease!”

You shoved him gently and laughed at his comment before shaking your head. “This guy… To everyone who dreams of dating him, work with him first. You’ll see how much of a horrible person he is.”

“Yah! That’s slander! Aren’t journalists supposed to avoid that?”

“I’ll kick your ass.” You licked your lips and began to answer the original question in further detail. “Yeah, so… Anyway, I got a 98 and I guess that warranted me becoming number one…?”

Both Taehyung and Yoongi’s faces dropped. From his booth, you could see Yoongi grimace and in your peripheral, you saw Tae stiffen.

“Up next is Still With You by our resident golden boy Jeon Jungkook. We’ll be back soon. Stay tuned.”

Suddenly, the on-air sign was turned off. The song began to play and Taehyung immediately gripped your shoulders.

“You what?!” Taehyung nearly screeched. “(Y/N), do you have any idea what this means?!” “That I took Kim Namjoon’s place and sent the fragile society of Mugunghwa into ruin? Yeah, I do.” Tae blinked for a moment. “No… Although, that does make sense. That seems way more important than what I was gonna say. Huh.”

You were actually going to punch the shit out of him. “Dude, what?”

“Listen, this is your chance! You can finally get recognized as the top-tier person that you are! As long as you were under Kim’s big, goofy shadow, you were going to be pushed aside! Now you can show everyone here how cool you are!”

You felt your throat tighten. That all-too-familiar sensation of a goose egg being lodged in your esophagus rose. You were going to cry. How you desperately wished that you could view the world like Taehyung did. How you longed to see the silver lining of every situation just like he did. All you saw was destruction and despair. All you felt was guilt for damning the entire student body to some cruel fate that only Kim Namjoon could dish out.

“Tae, I love you, but you don’t fucking get it! I’m screwed! We’re all screwed! I broke two of the sacred rules of this school! Kim Namjoon must always be first! I must always be second! I just sentenced everyone to death!”

Taehyung raised a brow, as if what you were saying were the incoherent ramblings of a mad woman. “You describe my cousin like he’s some heinous demon.” Even the usually passive Yoongi had to straighten his spine and widen his eyes at this revelation.

“He’s your cousin?!”

Tae leaned back in his seat with yet another smirk. This time, you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion this specific lift of his lips held. “Isn’t the resemblance obvious? The Kim line has some strong genes. It’s been that way since the Joseon era, I’ve been told.”

Ignoring the historical implications for why such strong genes would still be present thousands of years later (assuming that Taehyung was actually serious), you hurried the conversation along. Jungkook’s silky voice had faded away a while ago, leaving the two of you with little to no time left before it was time to open the floor to callers. This was your last chance to get some useful information about Namjoon before you were dragged into what you knew was going to be a relentless storm of phone calls and incredulous screeches at the news.

Like you had said before, you’d damned everyone. Who wouldn’t want to yell at the person that had the audacity to send an entire population into ruin?

“Get to the point, Taehyung. You’re telling me that you’re related to Satan himself? And I’ve been your co-host for how long?!” You near screeched.

Tae’s ambiguous smirk was now replaced with a blank expression. “I didn’t think it mattered, (Y/N). Why does it even matter now? If there’s a bigger issue here, I think you’re dodging it.”

You froze. He was right. For as long as you knew him, Taehyung had this uncanny ability to pick people apart and leave them vulnerable in an instant. This was especially effective on you, you’ve come to realize. The funny thing was that you hadn’t realized that you were employing tactics to postpone the inevitable inundation of accusatory and furious phone calls being thrown your way. Deep down, you always hated confrontation. Until Taehyung uttered those words, you hadn’t realized how deep that hatred and aversion was ingrained.

“Damn. You’re...good… I guess I am avoiding things. Let’s just get this over with. If we hold it off any longer, things will get worse.” You muttered as you looked towards Yoongi’s booth, motioning for him to put you both back on air.

Taehyung placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and flashed his signature boxy smile. “You don’t even know what they’re going to say. Who knows? News of your latest accomplishment may have brought the (Y/N) (L/N) Official Fanclub out of hiding. I bet that there are going to be several callers professing their undying love for you!”

“Their what now?” You asked dumbly.

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and slipped into a persona reminiscent of the male protagonist of one the many romance dramas that were plastered on television nowadays. His deep voice rumbled the soundproof padding on the walls and wrapped you in its velvety embrace.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I’ve struggled with these emotions for so long, but news of your success has given me the courage to confess them. I can’t quite make heads or tails of them, but I want to explore them all with you…” Not that anyone but you and Yoongi could see the exchange, but Taehyung gently cupped your chin with his large hand and looked longingly into your eyes. “That is, if you’d let me.”

Silence. Then raucous laughter from you and Taehyung. (Yoongi was visibly cringing in his booth.) You expected nothing less from the theater major, but you couldn’t help the delicate fluttering that began in your stomach. Was this the fabled Taehyung Effect at work? The two of you turned to your microphones and opened the floor to callers, as per usual for this segment of your show. What was highly unusual, however, was the heartfelt “confession” that was unwittingly broadcasted to everyone tuned in. Unbeknownst to everyone, the red on-air sign shone above your heads, serving as a beacon or perhaps an unfortunately ignored warning. A warning that your lighthearted joke wasn’t going to be a joke to some.

A warning that the harbinger of doom himself was listening in… A warning that he had now collected leverage over his new enemy… A warning that he was going to destroy you, even if he had to use his own relative to do it. He would surely add this to his rapidly growing arsenal of schemes.

The next day, the very air at Mugunghwa was different. Somehow, despite being the enigmatic second-place student, everyone instinctively knew to distance themselves from you. Biologically speaking, humans were still animals, despite the staunch separation that was created over time. There was still a basal instinct to survive. In this case, that instinct screamed, “Get away from the brainlet that dared to tip the scales and anger Kim Namjoon.” You didn’t blame anyone for their decision. You couldn’t. You’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if you did, and you didn’t want “hypocrite” to be engraved on your tombstone next to “cold-blooded killer”.

Everywhere you walked, people watched you intently with eyes filled with either fear, confusion, or disgust. You could hear thinly-veiled whispers as you passed your fellow students.

“There she is.”

“She’s surprisingly pretty. I expected some ugly broad to be under Namjoon’s shadow.”

Ah, yes. You had forgotten your previously fairly secretive life before the shoe dropped. You were content with living under the radar. After all, it kept the vicious rumors of the poor girl who by hook or crook got her way into an elite university on a full-ride scholarship at bay. As long as you held the number two spot, nobody cared about you. News of your arrival and subsequent theories surrounding it were just a fad that most people shortly moved on from. The drastic and sudden change from peaceful irrelevance to hostile notoriety made you nauseous.

The cold air nipped at your flesh while you made your way to the library. Fresh snow made its satisfying crunching sound as you sped towards your destination. Wait. Sped? Only when you looked down at your feet did you realize that your steps were quicker than usual. Needless to say, you were confused at this revelation. Were things really this bad? Why was your body subconsciously hurrying you along when no danger was immediately present? Then, it hit you: If the Kim Taehyung Effect caused your insides to flutter and your heart melt with glee, the Kim Namjoon Effect caused everyone to cower and hide in pure horror. Maybe it ran in the family. After all, the two were related. How that crucial detail managed to slip past you was beyond human understanding.

Soon enough, you made your way into the campus library. Warmth enveloped you and thawed your chilled skin with each step into the large building. The tall bookshelves that towered over you and the other patrons made you feel safe. The walls of knowledge served as barriers from the predatory glares that were shot your way anywhere else. Here, while not entirely forbidden, hushed insults and remarks were more so. The library was your sanctuary when the dormitories weren’t, and with all the girls and even your RA avoiding you like the plague, it was safe to say that your dorm wasn’t very inviting right now.

Whatever it took, you needed to get your mind off of the Namjoon business. Sitting down in the warm silence served to do just that. You absentmindedly wandered through the various sections of the building. The nutty scent of someone’s morning brew filled your nostrils on your journey, easily putting you at ease in an instant. The rhythmic click-clack of someone's fingers against a computer keyboard kept your body grounded to the Earth. It served as a nice tether and protection from your thoughts that threatened to whisk you away into the stratosphere with every step you took.

Your feet took you past the reference section, the nonfiction section, and even the genealogy section before making its final stop at the fiction section. When you first started college, you found it odd that a library carried such books, but you soon came to realize that an escape into another world was appreciated by everyone. A love for fiction did not have an age limit.

You found yourself engrossed in a high fantasy novel by one Bang Sihyuk. (A very talented author, you decided. You made a note to look into some of his other works when you weren’t staring death in the face.) The sweet sound of yet another page turning and revealing more of the lore slowed your racing heart. The subtle smell of ink and glue softened your muscles, willing them to relax into the plush chair. The floor lamp next to you glowed softly and turned the usually stark clash of pitch black lettering against white pages into a mellow brown against cream parchment.

Even if you knew you had to face the wolves outside your sanctuary eventually, you still savored the solace you had in that moment. What you never considered was that those halcyon days were going to soon fall into utter ruin and despair with a singular human-shaped silhouette.

Everywhere Namjoon went, eyes followed. The air around him crackled with apprehension, but he couldn’t care less if he tried. This was natural. The pitiful prey animals around scrambled away for dear life, functioning solely on the fleeting notion that sticking around would spell their demise. Most of the people here were college students beginning their prime. They couldn’t afford to wither away… Not yet, at least… And certainly not here.

Stifled gasps laced with fear and admiration threatened to strangle the poor Kim heir. How he so desperately wished that they would all shut up! The constant buzzing murmur felt like mosquitoes tiptoeing across his skin during the hot and balmy summer months. It was highly annoying, to say the least.

His piercing mocha eyes landed on a target. A mousy figure was dwarfed by Namjoon’s taller and muscular frame. Pair the size difference with his steely and—arguably murderous—gaze fixed on the piteous male before him, both parties were surprised that the smaller student didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

“I would stay to chat, but I have important business to attend to,” Namjoon began. The timbre of his voice seeped into the small man’s bones and rattled them with each syllable. “You obviously know something, or else you wouldn’t be so pathetically fearful.”

The other male gulped audibly. His dull brown eyes stared into Namjoon’s vibrant cocoa ones. His pupils contracted as a cold sweat formed on his forehead and neck. Deep down, he knew that one wrong move would send him spiraling into horrors unimaginable. This was Kim Namjoon he was dealing with. He only had one chance.

“I don’t know w-what you’re talking about…” He squeaked.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes with clear annoyance and disgust for the situation and the animal shivering before him. This caused the mousy man to gasp sharply.

“Tell me where (Y/N) (L/N) is. It’s a simple request. Even someone of your calibre should be capable of such a mundane task.” Namjoon stated simply. Disdain bled through his words into his tone and seeped into his prey’s already paper-thin psyche.

With a trembling arm, the rodent (as Namjoon decided to call him) pointed in the direction of the campus library. Of course you would be there. It made his blood boil to think that you’d already be in the library after receiving news of your latest feat. Anyone else would be a fool to risk losing such an honor. Studying was the only way to cement your new station as Mugunghwa’s new number one.

Without so much as a half-assed utter of thanks, Namjoon strode off in the direction of the large building. He was so hyper-focused on cutting you down and ensuring that you wouldn’t be a problem again that the signature thud of a body against snow missed his attention completely. The concerned and shocked gasps of onlookers didn’t affect him either.

Soon enough, he was at his destination. The same book-filled shelves and walls that greeted you greeted him at the entrance. Upon seeing his figure, the librarian at the circulation desk straightened in order to greet Namjoon properly. ‘At least one person here knew their place.’ He thought to himself.

“I’m looking for (Y/N) (L/N). It’d be in your best interest to point me in her direction as quickly as possible, Jimin.” Namjoon stated coolly with a tinge of nonchalance. Although he was painfully aware of the importance his little scouting mission served, his seemingly apathetic tone was the result of having said the same thing over and over like a broken record. The sooner he found you and got you to bend the knee, the sooner he could return home to his own studies.

The librarian, Jimin, nodded and swiftly pointed towards the fiction section. His mug of hazelnut coffee threatened to spill at the sudden and crisp motion. “She went that way, towards the fiction books.” He stated plainly. Namjoon couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his features. Jimin was always such an attentive servant.

Ever since that little incident before Mugunghwa’s annual recital, the dance major felt a deep sense of allegiance towards the older male. He had to. Namjoon was the only reason Park Jimin was able to continue his dream of becoming a world-class dancer, and it was made abundantly clear that what Kim Namjoon giveth, he can just as easily taketh away. Poor Jimin had no idea why you were being sought out by the most powerful student at the university, but he couldn’t help but suppress the gnawing sensation that he was leading you to a painful end.

Once again, forgoing a thank you, Namjoon began the final stretch of his arduous journey to find you and finally set things right in the world. The only issue was that he had no idea who he was looking for, exactly.

Oddly enough, despite your status, you had managed to keep a low profile. Very few people actually knew what you looked like. Hell, your student profile didn’t even have an image of you posted. In fact, the only way people outside of your direct circle of cohorts started to gather what you looked like was because the web connecting (Y/N) (L/N), radio show host and journalism major and (Y/N) (L/N), former number two was finally starting to weave itself. As far as most of the student body was concerned, you were nothing but a faceless placeholder image against a drab gray background. It wouldn’t have surprised Namjoon if you actually walked around with the words, “NO IMAGE AVAILABLE” permanently marked on your body. What he saw, however, was beyond his own comprehension.

There you were, his enemy, his prey. You sat idly in the large cushioned chair with your book nestled delicately in your hands. For the moment, you were blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed nearby. This was almost too easy. Almost as if your presence unlocked a vault to all his plans to destroy you, you looked at him.

And then his world changed. He almost felt sick at the sudden rush of sensory input his brain was forced to parse through. The previously unsaturated hall roared to life with colors he hadn’t even seen before. Warm browns, reds, and hues of every other name shot into Namjoon’s retinas upon gazing at your graceful form. This was (Y/N) (L/N)? This hidden gem? He was meant to demolish this?

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was rendered speechless. His heart began to beat in double-time. If his biological functions were a musical piece, this specific section’s tempo marking would be prestissimo. Beyond vivace, beyond presto.

He couldn’t take it, so for the first time ever, Kim Namjoon ran away.

You didn’t dare move. Fear wrapped its spindly fingers around your heart and clutched it in its icy grasp. You didn’t have to move your eyes off of the page to see who the shadow cast onto it belonged to. Deep down, you knew.

Goddamn it.

You just knew.

Just when you gathered the courage to face your doom head on, he was gone.

“What the fuck…?” You whispered. Your fantasy novel fell to the ground on its spine with a soft thud. Was this it? Were you officially losing it? Was stress causing you to hallucinate and see literal shadow people?! That was it.

Not wanting to have a literal breakdown in the middle of the library, you honed your senses in on the now cold-smelling coffee nearby. The faint hazelnut blend managed to at least tether you down to reality once more. You took a deep breath. Everything was now in focus. You had to leave, you decided. So that’s what you did.

If the library’s other patrons noticed the shocked, glazed over look in your eyes, nobody said anything. You had just come in contact with the menace. You were lucky to be alive. There’s no need to add insult to injury by inquiring about your current situation. Wordlessly, you ambled out of the library door. Jimin’s small eyes followed your every movement until you were finally out of his line of sight.

Soon enough, you made it to your dorm room. Oddly enough, it felt like you’d walked through a wormhole and warped to the private space. It appears that moving effortlessly through time and space was an eerily common theme that day. Not wishing to dwell on it any further, you plummeted onto your bed and let a dreamless sleep whisk you away from all your troubles.

A month had passed since your clandestine encounter with Namjoon. Surprisingly enough, after the first week or so of living in terror, the foreboding feeling of doom had all but disappeared. Like a colony of ants rebuilding their anthill after a sudden rainstorm, so too did Mugunghwa National Academy rebuild anew. As Thanksgiving rolled into Christmas, the student body had learned to accept that you were now at the top of the food chain. The status quo had shifted in your favor. Students that would previously mutter curses after you passed by would suddenly wave amicably once they noticed your presence.

While the sudden lack of hostility was appreciated, you couldn’t help but notice how shallow the whole situation was. A faint sense of disgust settled at the pit of your stomach. Or was it foreboding, after all? After your encounter with Namjoon’s shadow at the library, the Kim Industries heir had disappeared suddenly. He had disappeared without a trace. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His scores were still updated regularly; his name was still in the mouths of every man, woman, and child that walked across campus; and you swore that you saw his tall figure slither like a snake behind buildings and shrubbery one time after class. While there was solid proof that he still (at the very least) resided within this plane of existence, Kim Namjoon had achieved cryptid status. Just a month ago, he was the dark overlord that ruled Mugunghwa with an iron fist. Now, he was merely a relic of the past, a name synonymous with the Boogeyman. Kim Namjoon was now used to scare freshmen like tales of a monster under one’s bed were used to frighten young children.

The truth, like all things are, was much more complicated than that. After he met you, his goddess, at the library, Namjoon spiraled out of control. Nothing was the same for him. At first, it was a fleeting rush of endorphins, he had decided. Perhaps the sense of victory he felt after finding his long lost rival caused his brain to go into overdrive with glee. With that in mind, he returned home to lick his wounds and rewrite his battle plans.

The next day, everything seemed normal enough. His world was in grayscale once more. Individuals who weren’t of direct importance to him retained their distorted, blob-like features. His senses were mostly dulled once again… Until you appeared. You walked across campus with grace that put the supermodels that his father regularly “worked with” to shame. To be honest, they looked like pitiful crows with snapped legs when put up against your stork-like elegance.

His previously unsaturated world regained its color. His heart rate increased, warmth filled his veins as a result. Everything was crisply in focus when it came to you. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was terrified… But that’s what intrigued him all the more. Once you left his sight, however, the blooming colors vanished. Everything was blurred again. The warmth had died and left him empty, hollow, and cold. After a few days of this occurrence, Namjoon made his biggest realization yet: he was in love with you.

He was quick to write it off as pure lust. After all, remaining at the top didn’t leave much time for him to indulge in more carnal pleasures. Hell, the only thing he could remember slamming on a table on doing all night long was homework, as old and pathetic as the joke was. Namjoon was a dashing, intelligent young man beginning to reach his prime. Abstaining from such a primal and basic need wasn’t good for him. With that in mind, he immediately began his conquest.

First, it started with the models his father would fuck behind his mother’s back. Despite how carefully manufactured their appearances were, they didn’t quench his thirst. In fact, they enraged Namjoon to the point where it wasn’t uncommon for the women to leave his bedroom bruised the next morning. This charade went on for much too long until he’d had enough.

No other woman could set his heart aflame without even trying. No other woman could bring life to his distorted and achromatic world like you could. So he tried a man. Several men, in fact. He got so desperate that not even his little Park Jimin was safe from his ravenous clutches.

Nothing. Nothing had worked.

Now, as the clock struck midnight in his grand bedroom, Namjoon sat in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. He’d been so on edge for the longest time, yet nothing he did could stir him. So, he did the only thing he knew how… Thoughts of you filled his mind as he ghosted a finger across his limp member. The warmth he felt was returning once more…

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?”

There you were in the Kim manor’s living room. A black silk robe hugged your form perfectly as you bounded over to him. Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast you in its heavenly warm glow. Your (E/C) eyes peered up at him with such admiration, lust, and most importantly, love. Before he could even properly process the scene, you had him enveloped in the warmest hug imaginable.

Namjoon felt a rush of lust and blood shoot straight to his dick.

“I know, darling… But I’m here now. We can be together. I’m all yours from now on.” He replied smoothly.

Namjoon didn’t even think it possible for your eyes to shine any brighter, but they did. And they were all for him. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, for his eyes only… He gently caressed your cheek, careful not to mark it. The time for leaving marks and bruises would come later on…

“Really?” You asked. Your entire face lit with hope and wonder. “You mean it? Please don’t tease me, baby~. I don’t know what I’d do if you had to go so soon…”

You buried yourself into him, as if you knew that your home was within his embrace. He relished in it. He really did…

Namjoon felt feverish. His hands got to work immediately. Visions of you nestled against him, starlit eyes gazing into his, your form undulating beneath him as he pounded into you with everything he had. Your ecstatic moans and gasps filled his ears and mind, creating a carnal symphony only you could compose.

Sweat beaded on his temples, his arms beginning to burn with exhaustion as they continued to bring him to completion. Musical, “I love you, Namjoon”s and “Please! I’m so close, baby! Fuck me!”s began to crescendo rapidly. The world around him went from a gentle warmth to a blazing inferno. Colors reached their maximum saturation. Namjoon’s heart began to beat erratically. This was it. This was it! This is what he needed!

“Yes, (Y/N). You’re so good to me! Take it! Take it!!”

With an animalistic roar, Namjoon shot his seed. It coated his body and even his blanket that he pushed aside in his lustful fever. The fireworks came to a close. His jagged breaths began to even themselves out. The angels stopped singing. He was alone once more… But he wouldn’t be for long.

Tears filled Namjoon’s vision as he looked at his clock. Time wasn’t important anymore… But you were. He was going to have you, and he was going to become number one again. Kim Namjoon was going to be your number one.

Just like that, the year of terror had come and gone. Now, a new year was upon you and another December along with it. You stared up at your dorm room’s ceiling with a dumb smile etched on your face. After all, that was the only expression you could possibly muster, given the circumstances.

“Damn… What the hell happened to me?” Was all you managed to say as you turned onto your side. Your phone in hand, you scrolled through your photo gallery almost absentmindedly until you reached one particular photo. There you were at a carnival with the Devil incarnate, Kim Namjoon. Your eyes bright with glee at the large plush you held in one arm as you posed with Namjoon for a selfie.

You chuckled and zoomed in on the image with a wistful smirk. While you stared ahead at the camera, Namjoon stared at you with an expression that you didn’t even know that he possessed: pure, unadulterated admiration. You were almost inclined to call it love.

The past year and some change was a whirlwind. Your earliest memory of it consisted of finally coming to terms with the ecosystem at Mugunghwa, only to be faced with Namjoon and your whole world coming down. Students and staff alike scurried away from the dining area, not wanting to be a witness to a crime. You had gained new friends over the course of these months. They simply couldn’t stand to see your last moments on this earth in complete agony.

However, your death never came. Namjoon stood proudly in the now empty cafeteria, as if he relished in the fact that he could clear a room without uttering a single word.

“(Y/N) (L/N). It’s so good to finally put a name to a face… And what a lovely face it is…”

If Namjoon wasn’t going to kill you, the water lodged in your windpipe at his words would. You sputtered, hands waving as you choked on your water. Suddenly, Namjoon came behind you and swiftly patted your back. Once you could breathe again, you wiped at your tear-filled eyes and peered up at him. “I’m sorry… What?”

Namjoon returned to his original position in front of you with a smirk. Pulling out a chair, he sat down with the practiced air of a businessman about to make a deal. “I called you beautiful. I do hope that wasn’t too forward.”

Now, you were suspicious. Satan himself had saved you from choking and was now calling you attractive? Were you dead? Did you imagine Namjoon helping you as a last-ditch effort to survive somehow? Was that the image your brain created as you slipped away into the world of the dead? But this was reality. Something deep down told you that you weren’t dying or dreaming.

“Forgive my skepticism, but I highly doubt that you came to exchange compliments. What do you want, Kim Namjoon?” You asked icily. The male in front of you visibly recoiled at your tone, as if he didn’t factor in the possibility that you could speak with such a tone. He quickly recovered, however, and he began his pitch.

“You’re half right, (Y/N). I didn’t come here to only compliment you, but I came here to have a discussion that is long overdue. At my core, I am a businessman. I make deals, I negotiate. That’s what I’m here to do.” Namjoon stated simply. Looking deeply into his eyes, he didn’t show any signs of insincerity, but that’s to be expected. He’s been trained his entire life to hiding his true intentions behind an amicable facade, regardless of how nefarious his plans may or may not be.

“I see… What is it that you wish to discuss? I’m afraid that I’m not as well-versed in business etiquette as you, so please forgive me for any mistakes or slip-ups that I may make. That being said, this is not an invitation to walk all over me. I may be inexperienced, but I am by no means an idiot.”

Could you be any more perfect for him? A beautiful face and body, poise and grace, and the courage to hold her own in a negotiation? Not to mention, the colors were swirling around you and blooming delicately in such a comforting fashion. He was absolutely smitten.

“I wouldn’t dare make the mistake of calling someone who replaced me as top dog an idiot. Give me some credit. I’m not as vile as the university’s tall tales make me out to be. I’m sure that my cousin, Taehyung, could vouch for me.”

You bristled at the mention of Taehyung. What had he done to him? Did something happen? No, that couldn’t be. You had just finished your show with Tae only a half hour ago. Surely, that isn’t enough time for him to get into any trouble, right?

“Calm down, (Y/N). Nothing’s happened to him. I can see the wheels turning in your head. My cousin is safe and sound. I can even call him up for you, if you don’t believe me.” Namjoon said smoothly, already fishing his phone out of his designer coat’s pocket.

“No, that’s fine…” You swallowed and regained your composure. Once you were calmed down, you returned Namjoon’s gaze. “I’m sure he’s alright. If anything, I’ll call him later. Right now, this is more important.”

Namjoon put his phone away and leaned back in his chair whilst giving a dismissive wave of his hand. Hopefully, the display of nonchalance would mask the sheer excitement and feverish nervousness he felt from being so close to you. Hearing your voice was like hearing the soothing melodies of birdsong in the morning. His heart soared at the mere act of being in your presence.

“Very well. I came here to apologize. You see, I’m well aware of the distress to you and everyone here at Mugunghwa that I’ve caused, and for that, I’m sorry.”

You could have died right there. Kim Namjoon? Apologizing? And apologizing to you, no less?! The infamous heir to Kim Industries, known for the downfall of any and everyone who dared impede his goals was apologizing to you?!

“Please, (Y/N). Forgive me. It’s just that losing to you has put my life into perspective. Yes, I was the head of our class, but what did that mean? Why was I fighting so hard to keep a title that in the long run, means so little? What was the point if I had no one to share it with?”

“What the hell are you getting at, Kim? I fail to see what this has to do with conducting business.”

As precious as you were to him, Namjoon despised your tone. If you were to be his, that sharp tongue would have to be dealt with. Besides, in that instant, you reminded him of his lowlife father. That certainly wouldn’t do. His queen should never adopt the mannerisms of Kim Joonho. Never. Ever. You were to whisper sweet nothings into his ear while he reciprocated. You were to never take such a tone with him ever again.

“I was rambling, so I’ll forgive that insolent remark of yours just this once. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Namjoon stated darkly.

Not wanting to push your luck, you relented. You were actually talking to Kim Namjoon. You couldn’t afford to ruin an opportunity like this.

“Right.” He resumed “The truth is that I’ve been watching you for quite some time. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do anymore. You’ve occupied every inch of my mind, and I just wanted to ask if you’d be mine, (Y/N).”

You sat there, slack-jawed. Was he serious?! What was happening?

“You’re joking… There’s no way that you could be serious. There’s no fucking way!”

“I am. I’ve done some soul-searching recently, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you are what I’ve been fighting for all this time. Not a damn class rank. I’ve been fighting for love, affection, understanding… And I believe that I can find all of that in you.”

“You… What…? I- How?”

“February 14, a dozen red roses were waiting for you on your desk in your dorm. With them, was a card addressed to you from a secret admirer. March 14, a diamond necklace was gifted to you for White Day by a secret admirer. And now, these.”

Namjoon produced a stack of envelopes bound by a black silk ribbon from his jacket pocket.

“These are from me. You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). Can you tell me who your secret admirer is?”

That was April. After a few talks with your co-host and having to sit through embarrassing stories of their childhoods, you finally took the leap and went out on a date with Namjoon… And you were the happiest you’ve ever been. The large stuffed animal that Namjoon had won you sat on a bookshelf, next to several other trinkets he had given you over the months you had dated.

You chuckled to yourself at the memory and closed your photos app. After which, you opened up your messaging app to shoot a quick text to Namjoon. That was until, you got a notification reading,

KIM INDUSTRIES CEO, KIM JOONHO FOUND DEAD IN HIS WINTER ESTATE.

Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon’s number and was greeted by a somber moan answering the phone.

“Namjoon, baby, I’m so sorry… I just saw the news.”

A sniff. “Hey. So the news outlets already published the story, huh? I should have known that it wouldn’t take long… They could at least have the common decency of letting his corpse grow cold first before they publicize it.” Namjoon chuckled humorlessly.

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t imagine going through the sudden shock of losing your parent, only to deal with the press soon afterward. You sensed that Namjoon needed some time to himself to grieve, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, it’s shitty what they’re doing. And to think that I’m going into that profession. It’s crazy.”

“It is what it is, (Y/N). Besides, I have faith that you’ll be one of the good journalists that don’t try to weave everything that they hear into lies and defamation.” He said earnestly.

Something about the way Namjoon spoke was unnerving. He didn’t sound like someone who was mourning their late father, but then again, he might have been in shock. His apathetic demeanor on the matter must have been a coping mechanism. After all, losing your father so suddenly is a lot to process.

All you could do is hum in response. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so, dear.”

A pregnant pause.

“Hey, (Y/N). I know this sounds horribly insensitive, but, can we still have our dinner date at my mansion? It’s just that I can’t bear to be alone right now, and you’re the only person I’ve been able to trust lately. It doesn’t have to be a date. I guess I just want you to come over.”

Your heart shattered into smithereens. He was alone and scared. Namjoon had no one to trust or turn to in his time of need, yet he found it within his heart to ask you. Who were you to refuse?

“Alright. I’ll go. Same time?”

He didn’t have to say a word, but you could hear his dimpled smile some out to play.

“Y-yes, yes, of course! Same time! Thank you so much, (Y/N). You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Alright, see you soon. Bye.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh and faced your closet. You had exactly two hours to get ready for dinner. You had two hours to prepare…

And so did Namjoon.

Once again, Namjoon was summoned to his father’s study. He was expecting it sooner or later. His class rank hadn’t improved since his father sent him to take his top spot back by any means necessary, but you were number one now. Namjoon wouldn’t dare dethrone his goddess from her rightful pedestal.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was upon opening the large doors a swift slap coming across his face.

“You useless, useless brat! You can’t even eliminate a simple girl?! You can’t even reclaim your title?! How am I supposed to leave my estate and company in such incapable hands?!”

Joonho was fuming. His once pride and joy had betrayed him and disappointed him. How dare he? Namjoon sat on the floor, gingerly rubbing his cheek. He was sure his father’s handprint was burned into his flesh.

“I swear, you’re incompetent just like your brother! He disappointed me, and look at where he is now! I should have known that it was too good to be true.”

At the mention of his brother, Namjoon’s body stiffened.

“All of this. You’re ruining your life and your career all for some girl?! You’re willing to throw away what I’ve essentially bred you for, all for some lowlife pussy?!”

At the mention of you, Namjoon began to see red.

“I suppose I’ve been too lenient on you. I should have known that you would flounder. Maybe I’ll get rid of (Y/N) myself. It’s clear that she means a lot to you. Maybe you’ll get back in line once she perishes.”

That was the final straw. With pure rage fueling his every cell, Namjoon sprinted over to his father’s desk and grabbed his letter opener.

“Say it again, bastard! Say it again!”

Now, Joonho’s figure was dissolving into a crimson blob. All of his human like features were gone in a furious red haze. Kim Joonho wasn’t his father anymore. He wasn’t even human.

He was the enemy.

Without giving his father a chance to speak, Namjoon plunged the letter opener into the older man’s eye sockets. After that, it was a blur. Hours had seemingly passed and Kim Joonho was nothing but a human pincushion. Stab wounds littered his body, and blood was oozing out of every one. With a satisfied grin, Namjoon stood and cupped a crimson hand to his face.

“Seokjin! Seokjin! Come down here!”

The head butler rushed in the study and into the carnage. The older male was mortified at the bloodbath before him, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile and tears of joy forming in his tear ducts.

“Brother, come help me clean up father. Unless, of course, you have some words for him?”

Seokjin carefully approached his father’s corpse and smiled wickedly. He placed a gloved hand on his eyeless face.

“You’ve disappointed me, Joonho. And now look where that’s brought you. My transgressions against you warranted that I were to be stripped of my place in the world as your son, only to become your servant. Your transgressions warranted your death at the hands of your prodigy. Isn’t that poetic justice? Sleep well, father.”

“Master Namjoon will be down in a moment.” A maid stated as she had you seated.

A white cloth napkin was folded and placed on your lap while you got comfortable in the antique dining chair. Staff hurried to and fro to finish preparing for your meal, and it was almost amusing seeing them rush around like busy worker bees instead of the esteemed staff of the Kim Manor.

A few moments ticked away before Namjoon made his appearance. He was elegantly clad in a designer Armani suit, giving a regal and princely appearance as he made his way over to you from the grand foyer.

“Please forgive me, dear. I had some business to attend to.”

Namjoon outstretched his arms, motioning for you to give him a hug. You happily obliged.

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” You cheekily giggled. If you ignored the whole dead dad situation, the whole scene would appear wholesomely domestic. You decided to indulge in that notion.

Namjoon’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting. I hope that we can make up for lost time during dinner, yeah?”

You nodded and sat down in your chair. Namjoon was seated right beside you. As if on cue, the staff brought in your dishes. A classic Christmas dinner, consisting of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, ham, and vegetables was placed in front of you. On a small dish nearby, some cranberry jelly sat. You tried to hide the grimace at the red jelly. You were by no means a fan of the garnish, but you didn’t want to appear picky or ungrateful, especially considering the reason why you were having dinner with Namjoon in the first place.

Ever the attentive partner, Namjoon was keen on noticing your inner turmoil. “Is something not to your liking?”

“Uh, it’s just… I don’t really like cranberry jelly… That’s all.”

Namjoon looked utterly dumbfounded before letting out a joyful, booming laugh. “That’s all? Oh, (Y/N). You had me worried! I thought that I’d ruined the whole meal for you!”

His fork stabbed into a piece of turkey and he dipped the meat into the red gelatin.

“But, please do try the jelly. My brother and I, we made it for this occasion. I promise it’s nothing like the canned slop they sell in grocery stores.”

Namjoon made this? Now, this you had to try.

“Alright. Since you went through the effort of making it, I’ll give it a shot.”

You copied Namjoon’s actions of taking a slice of turkey and dipping it in the cranberry jelly. With the expression of a chef on Chopped, Namjoon eagerly watched as you placed the food in your mouth.

“Mmm! This is delicious! Namjoon, you should sell this! This is amazing!”

Another laugh came from Namjoon, although, this one had an arguably maniacal lilt. “Why, thank you, but I’m afraid that this specific batch is one of a kind. Besides, cranberry jelly isn’t the most profitable market out there.”

Little did you know that you had just ingested Kim Joonho’s coagulated blood. Perhaps that was why his cranberry jelly was one of a kind.

Merry Christmas.

#bwcssy2

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

Text

End of the Tunnel: XIV

Description: It’s almost been a year since Fred Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: fluff

MASTERLIST

***

George had done stupid, reckless, terrifying things throughout his entire life. He had acted without thinking and leapt before he looked. His mother had begged him to think of others, or even the safety of himself, but he had only scoffed. He had jumped from the astronomy tower to his broom several stories below. He had dropped out of high school to start a business at the beginning of a war. He had tested wacky inventions without thinking of his insides. Hell, he had taunted Voldemort on live radio while his family was being threatened at every turn. Life was too short to think, too fragile to second guess every decision.

Even after Fred had passed, he had moved forward without thought, until now. Now he was standing in his own kitchen, staring at the bathroom door where Hannah was getting ready for their date, doing nothing but thinking.

It was Christmas Eve, and he could hear her singing carols through the door. She had an awful singing voice that he couldn’t get enough, every crack of the highest note made him smile. He had tentatively asked her once, and she informed him she knew. She had tried out for every choir and they had all turned her away. She insisted singing was not a talent but a joy and no matter how awful it was she would keep doing it, even if it was only in her own home. He couldn’t get enough. On days he was there to watch, she paid him no mind as she danced and threw her head back in untamed delight. She was mostly likely dancing, now serenading the mirror with a hairbrush to her lips. He wanted to enjoy the mental image, but he couldn’t, not with his coat pocket heavy and his palms clammy.

And he couldn’t stop fidgeting!

One second, he was drumming his fingers against the counter, the next he was pacing, and the next he was opening every cabinet within reach, staring at the unchanging plates. He had almost gnawed a hole through the inside of his cheek, and he had stubbed his toe twice; he was almost certainly going crazy.

Everything was planned. He had rehearsed his speech for hours the night before, sneaking off to the bathroom once she was asleep. The contents of the velvet box in his pocket had been approved by Malfoy at the store and Sloane in the corner of some publicity event he hadn’t wanted to go to. He had spoken to Mr. Gladdis (and Henry, of course) and they had both patted him on the back, wishing him the best of luck. He had even swallowed his pride and spoken to his own father on the matter. He had picked out the spot. He had even picked out a coat with large enough pockets to hide the box until the perfect moment, and yet he couldn’t stop worrying.

He worried about the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. He worried he would get tongue tied. He worried that his hair looked terrible. He worried that the ring wouldn’t fit, or that the diamond wasn’t big enough, or simply that despite Malfoy and Sloane’s insisting, she wouldn’t like it. He worried that a snowstorm would blow her away from him. He worried that a past lover with a Brazilian accent would whisk her away. He worried that a wall would crush him just as he dropped to his knee. But most of all, he worried she would say no.

Finally, finally, the door opened, and his angel stepped out of the bathroom. She was dressed for the cold, just as he had requested. Her dress was made of cream-colored knitting, her boots ready for a walk through the snow.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, only managing a whisper as he stared at the woman he was lucky enough to have standing in his apartment.

“You look rather handsome yourself,” she replied, pulling on a hat and a pair of mittens. He hoped she didn’t notice his hands shaking when he helped her into her coat. If she did, she didn’t say anything about, just smiled and waited for him to take her arm.

They landed with a crack and before George had fully gathered his bearings she was gasping with delight, staring at the picturesque town that surrounded them. Snow was falling around them, catching on her eyelashes as she stared.

“Your very own trip to Hogsmeade, just as promised,” George announced, hand sweeping across the scene. She practically leapt into his arms, gratitude falling from her lips as she desperately tried to take in the view while simultaneously looking at him.

He led her down the street, handheld tightly in his. The streetlights reflected in her eyes as she took in every inch of the town. Wizards stared back at her, but either she didn’t notice or didn’t care because she paid them no mind.

“Does it live up to your expectations?” he asked, and she nodded, unable to pull away for even a moment.

“It’s the most wonderful place I’ve ever been,” she gasped, startling a few onlookers.

“Is there any particular place you’d like to go?”

“Wherever you suggest,” she replied. He grinned and dragged her towards the radiating warmth of Honeydukes, prepared for her sweet tooth to die of excitement. When the burst of warm air pulled them in, she squealed, just as he had expected her to. As he watched her dart from shelf to shelf, staring at the strange array of sweets, he grew nervous once more. Without her holding his hand, a physical reassurance that everything would be okay, his thoughts were able to reemerge, threatening his sanity once more.

The moment was drawing closer by the second, and his fingers wouldn’t leave the stupid box alone. If he was sure he wouldn’t throw up, he would have done it right there next to the bin of sugar quills. He couldn’t be sure though, not when she looked so beautiful and every time, he looked at her butterflies slammed against his windpipe. She was so beautiful he could cry, and if everything went to plan, she would be his, his beautiful, wonderful, wife. His eyes welled up at the thought of him. Oh, how he desperately tried to hold onto that thought, the thought of calling her Mrs. Weasley, but it flitted away like one of the butterflies. Instead he was left with the dark cloud of what-ifs and rejections that had been haunting him since he bought the ring.

Hannah was very aware he was nervous, what for sure couldn’t be sure, but he hadn’t stopped squeezing her hand since he took it. She could still his fingers threaded through hers even as she picked around the shelves of Honeydukes. She wondered if being so close to the school was hurting him, she wondered if she should offer to leave. It felt selfish to stay if it was only a painful reminder, but oh how she longed to be selfish a little while longer.

The storybook town outshined every story she had ever heard. They hadn’t mentioned the candles in the trees or the way every shop seemed to smell like magic, reaching out to her with promises of wonder and awe. Yet, she turned back to George, watching him for a moment as he nervously shifted from one foot to another, hands crammed into his coat pockets.

“George,” she asked, cautiously approaching him.

“What’s up?”

“Are you okay? To be here, I mean?”

“What do you mean? Do you want to leave?” he asked clearly panicking, but she shook her head with a laugh. She pulled his hands into hers, swinging them back and forth as she smiled.

“Definitely not, I just thought it might be a bit much to be this close to where it all happened. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable for my sake,” she replied, and his shoulders dropped with relief. He pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead as he took a deep breath.

“I’m wonderful, and you’re wonderful,” he said, and she squeezed his hands once more before allowing him to lead her back into the depths of the candy shop. He insisted she try everything that wouldn’t give her tastebuds nightmares. At the end he ordered them both a cup of hot cocoa. Somehow it warmed her instantly, melting her frozen toes the moment her tongue. She took a mental note to look into adding it to her own menu, before focusing all her attention on the steaming chocolate.

They stepped back out into the cold and he pointed out all the different shops. He told her stories about being banned from Zonko’s and the time Fred had managed to convince him that taking a girl to Madame Pudifoot’s was the way to go (it was not). He pointed out the Three Broomsticks where he had tried firewhiskey for the first time and consequently asked out Rosmerta until she had been forced to call for McGonagall to drag him back to school.

Eventually they ended up on the end of the street, staring at the brightly lit castle on the hill.

“That’s Hogwarts,” he informed her, and she nodded sullenly. It was beautiful, just as she had suspected it would be, but she also knew of his last memory within it’s walls and waited. She waited for him to turn away, too haunted by memories to look, but he continued to stare. He pointed at a tower and she leaned closer to find where he had been motioning. “And that tower was where the world ended.” She didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t shouting or throwing things, he was simply pointing with a sad glint in his eyes.

“George,” she whispered, tugging at his arm but he shook her off and turned away from the castle to face her.

“I thought the world ended in that tower, but I was wrong,” he said, taking her face in his hands as he pulled her close to kiss her. His hands were shaking until they touched her, and then it was as if everything was still. The snow froze and the small breeze subsided with on final whoosh. He dropped in front of her and she grabbed his arms, terrified he had fallen.

“George, George, are you okay?” she asked, and he laughed, glancing up at her with tears in his eyes as he sunk onto one knee. “Oh my gosh.” He pulled out the object he had been fidgeting with all night and opened the royal blue box revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

It put every light she had seen that night to shame.

“Hannah Gladdis, I thought the world had ended that day, but the day I met you it truly began. So, I beg you, do me the honor of marrying me,” he choked out and a lump formed in her throat as she nodded, not sure whether to laugh or cry or shout for joy. She settled for dropping to her knees in front of him and kissing him as fiercely as mortality would allow. She only pulled away long enough to allow him to slide the ring on her finger, and then she kissed him again. It didn’t matter that ice was cutting through her stockings or that the wind had picked up once more, all that mattered is that George Weasley was holding her and now she knew he would never let go.

All that mattered was she had said, ‘yes’!

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagine #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader fanfiction #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader fanfic #George weasley x reader imagine #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader fluff #end of the tunnel

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt83

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

“So, you want us to let you move into a mansion with Damian and absolutely no adult supervision?” Marinette blinked at her mother for a moment before frowning. There had to be someone coming to make everything look legit from Damian’s side right? Even if her parents would act as though they lived there Bruce Wayne would surely insist on an adult presence for appearances sake, right?

“I think someone from Damian’s family will be coming. Tim’s the CEO so he can’t stay indefinitely, but I believe someone should be coming to replace him.” She’d have to talk to Damian about that. It’s not like he had a shortage of siblings so they might rotate for all she knew. “Besides, the Kwami will all be there.”

Sabine gave her a flat look before running her eyes over the beings in question. Digg was trying to put the kitchen in order while Tom explained that everything was exactly where he wanted it, no matter how much the Kwami claimed things should be arranged by height, color, even weight at one point. Her father looked to be nearing the end of his rope. Primm was watching the light filter through the window, occasionally forcing it to refract as if through a prism and giggling to themself. Jett was watching and Marinette caught the Kwami of Darkness shatter the effect more than once and smirking when Primm pouted. Lyccen was… wait where was Lyccen? Before Marinette could get too concerned Lyccen stormed into the bakery from the apartment with a bag of chips in hand looking furious.

“Who even does this?” They held up the bag of chips and Marinette saw it was something Sabine’s side of the family sent them as a joke. Baked bacon cheese with seaweed flavor. “I’m the Kwami of Anarchy for crying out loud and I still would never do something like this!” Sabine just raised an eyebrow at Marinette.

“Well they’re not wrong. You can’t tell me you haven’t wondered about the sanity of some of the people coming up with different combinations of flavoring for things.” Okay, so the Kwami might be more like babysitting little kids, but it would still keep her out of trouble.

“Marinette, you may be the Guardian of these beings but I am still your mother and you’re still a minor. I’m not going to let you stay in a house with only other teenagers, gods that act like teenagers, and some unknown adult that may only be a few years from being a teenager themself. If Tom and I are the only adults who can be there because of your responsibilities we’ll make a schedule and hire help if we need to so one of us can be there.” Marinette frowned at the thought. She didn’t want to upend their lives and business because she suddenly couldn’t get around her home.

“Let’s talk to Damian and see what his family plans to do first. He and Tim should be here soon anyway to look over and set up the chair.” They’d had to go back to the apartment for some reason, but said they’d be along shortly. She hadn’t had a chance to ask what they were comfortable sharing with her parents. Given her mother’s hang up on age she wasn’t sure it would help her knowing they were also vigilantes.

“That’s it! Get out of my kitchen.” Marinette started at her father’s bellow. The man was normally a huge teddy bear but he did have his limit. Watching him shove Digg out of the kitchen was amusing by itself, but the Kwami’s confused expression made it hilarious.

“I was just trying to help, nothing in there makes sense.” Digg sounded moderately offended, but Lyccen laughed at him from across the room.

“Get off your high horse. Some artists need chaos to thrive and others just have a process that looks like chaos to those not in their head. I promise that kitchen is in perfect order, you just don’t understand how.” Digg frowned at them.

“That doesn’t make any sense if there is order, I would know.” Primm was the one who giggled this time.

“No you wouldn’t. You’re too much like Jett. Neither of you is interested in the world except for your function in it and you refuse to acknowledge that your effects might take shapes you didn’t intend. Humans constantly form chaos into order and turn order to chaos in new and interesting ways. You simply believe that since you are order personified you understand everything about it when in fact you have tunnel vision.”

Digg and Jett both glared at the Kwami of Light but they had already gone back to playing with the light coming through the window. Yeah, this was definitely going to be like looking after little kids. What exactly had Tikki been thinking? The Kwami she could renounce caused enough trouble but these four she was going to have to watch constantly. Her mother looked like she was about to burst into laughter

“Perhaps you don’t need to have an adult presence since you’ll have to be one. That won’t leave you much time to get into normal trouble. Unfortunately someone does need to watch them while you’re in school.” Marinette just wrinkled her nose in annoyance. She had a successful business and as soon as a couple contracts went through she’d be set for life monetarily unless she started being really reckless. Yet her parents still insisted she finish school.

“Well I could just transfer to homeschooling to be able to keep an eye on them.” Sabine rolled her eyes.

“If we let you home school you would just work on commissions non stop. You need to develop the ability to have a proper work life balance and allowing you to not surface from your work for weeks or months at a time won’t help that.” Marinette shared a look with Chloe and could see her thoughts mirrored on the other girls face. Chloe would never say it out loud because she didn’t want to anger the woman. Marinette had no such filter.

“This from a woman who lives in her business and has no social life outside of customers and one or two friends she hardly ever sees.” She knew as the words were coming out that she should just shut up but couldn’t make herself do it. The look on her father’s face was sheer terror and even the Kwami were looking at her like she’d completely lost it. She was starting to wonder if being crippled had destroyed her self preservation instincts. Maybe it was a form of depression? No. As she looked at her mother’s frighteningly blank face she knew exactly what had happened. All kids pressed their parent’s buttons to test limits and see how far they could go. She didn’t do it often but every time she did she overshot the line by a few meters at least. This would probably go down as one of her worst decisions ever.

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

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#maribat #marinette dupen chang #Damian Wayne #bffmaridami

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 3 years

Text

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 66 – A Solution, a Dilemma, and an Ordeal

“Just as I’d thought.”

Upon Frankenstein’s murmur, Takio and M-21 stuck out their faces from behind him towards the papers he was holding.

Alas, they gave up straight away as their eyes locked upon the numbers, graphs, and charts incomprehensible for their level of knowledge.

Tao, the only person they could count on to translate them into human language(?) was busy fidgeting with the machine that just printed out the papers.

Which is why they had to wait for Frankenstein to explain.

And they showed the generosity of waiting until Tao could bring Yuigi from the machine.

When the subject of the tests finally arrived, Frankenstein nonchalantly raised his glasses and began his lecture.

“Simply put, I need to take a look at your head.”

“What?”

“Huh?”

“Hmm?”

Yuigi retorted in fluster, with Takio and M-21’s bafflement resonating in the background.

Tao’s mouth was hanging open as well, his eyes very close to popping like a pair of balloons.

“That was meant to be literal. There’s something in your head.”

“...So Yuri that bastard did something under Crombel’s order, when I was imprisoned at his temporary lab.”

Yuigi scowled as hard as she could and moved her hand to her temple.

She could not remember what happened back then, her memories blurry due to pain.

She tried scrutinizing what was left of the pieces of her memories, but she could not find any scene holding Yuri doing something to her head.

Assuming it happened when she finally succumbed to pain, Yuigi focused her gaze upon Frankenstein, demanding more details.

Flapping the papers, Frankenstein landed upon the page about in the middle and turned it around for his small audience, displaying CT and MRI pictures of Yuigi’s head.

The pictures were not so big, but the four of them could see very clearly something was there, their vision much more superior to normal human vision.

They could see an array of spots, each of them much more miniscule than grains of sugar, scattered in the area where her frontal lobe would be.

“I don’t need to tell you what I want you to look at, do I?”

“No. But what’s this? Did something get into Miss Yuigi’s head?”

“Yup. I recalibrated that machine according to my manual, and I believe Crombel planted nanochips in your head, Yuigi.”

“Nanochips...? Are you saying all those spots are...”

Yuigi’s body heaved, as if she were just notified that the dinner she had yesterday was infested with cockroach eggs.

“When I...”

Frankenstein’s lips were shut in the course of his reply.

The pull between his lips were so natural, like the sort that would exist only between two poles of a magnet.

Which is why no one noticed that it was not his intention to halt in the middle.

Calming himself by fingering his glasses, Frankenstein restarted himself as smoothly as he could.

“When I left this place, I could get my hands on several files and data on the Union. Some of them were about Union arts and crafts we weren’t aware of, including this technique that employs nanochips. Since Union's main focus was on the mastery of body modification, nanochips were not exactly the favorite from Union’s shelf of goods. But I wouldn’t say they completely disregarded this technology, since it’s on the list of items that none other than Ignes took her time and effort and resources to study.”

“So are you saying the nanochips in my head are Ignes’s creation?”

“Either Crombel snuck away her recipe to dissect and put it back up in a fashion he prefers. Or she stole some of the ingredients he was handling.”

“So what exactly does this thing do?”

“Consider it a remote control to make a marionette out of its host. One of the features of this nanochip happens to be automatically appropriating the host’s control over its body when the host finds itself in mortal danger, so to make sure the host will stay alive as long as its puppeteer wants.”

The four humans gaped at him, confusion clear on their faces, and Frankenstein continued on, probably having foreseen this.

“Remember what happened when I had a rematch with the 1st Elder right before our final showdown against Crombel? Back then he was under Crombel’s control. He served as Crombel’s battle figure, his mind in one piece, with only minimum amount of life force left in him.”

“...With his willpower trapped within, watching and hearing and experiencing how his body is not his...?”

Yuigi muttered, the only one who did not take part in the aforementioned battle, apart from Tao, who had had wire updates on the situation.

The three members of the RK knew why she looked so stunned when she had nothing to do with this occasion.

“So... You’re saying the nanochips that Yuri injected into Miss Yuigi are...”

“They were probably the prototype of the technology Crombel used upon the 1st Elder. You said when you were fighting with that Kornel guy, you couldn’t even speak before you had an outbreak of emotions and broke free from the unwelcome disconnection of your mind from body, right? Unlike you, at least 1st Elder could offer some words to me back then.”

“Wait a minute. The gas we fired was based on a sample of Yuigi’s DNA.”

“So maybe all the people who went through body modification are plagued with...”

“Oh, don’t worry. The results show that the mechanism of body appropriation derives solely from these nanochips. And as you can see, these nanochips were inserted only in specific parts of her brain. So the victims won’t turn back to pseudo-zombies.”

“So once these nanochips are gone...”

“You can return to who you are. I’ll soon come up with a treatment, so I’d appreciate it if you could take your time and wait.”

Yuigi nodded in affirmation, but in reality Frankenstein knew there was no need for a treatment.

The only thing Frankenstein had to do was to draw out just enough power he needs to destroy the nanochips within all at once.

However, he had to coin a specific treatment for the sake of another soul who was unofficially booked for a doctor’s appointment with him.

Another reason why Frankenstein scurried from Lukedonia upon hearing Yuigi’s symptoms from Tao.

And something that had been poking needles into his sanity way before the QuadraNet project joined to add trouble to his side.

‘Lord Muzaka said that during the nuclear missile incidence, his body scrammed from the site on its own. Which would most certainly mean his body saved itself from mortal danger. I bet I can find the exact same nanochips in his head as well.’

If he were to be honest with himself, Frankenstein was dying to use this opportunity to his benefit, to broider the front and back of the werewolf lord’s head with big, fat, angry marks from his grasp.

‘But I have no reason to turn the entire wolfkind into my enemy, after everything that has happened. Not to mention Lunark won’t be happy if she later finds out what...’

At then his hand froze in the middle of its frenzied waltz across Yuigi’s test results.

It was neither in his intention nor in his cognition, yet his thoughts darted themselves right back to Lunark before he could stop them.

In fact, he was stunned for a moment back when he mentioned Ignes’s studies, for he was reminded of the werewolf warrior who visited his island to hand the files of the noble whom he destroyed himself.

Now that his mind summoned Lunark twice, everything he regarded he had left behind in Lukedonia – his thoughts about her, his deliberation on her, and his feelings for her – cascaded right into his heart to cause furious ripples.

He came back to Korea to seek time to himself, but seemingly fate did not want him to waste his time taking refuge.

Towards the room that the RK and Yuigi emptied, the sound of footsteps that Frankenstein would always notice regardless of time and place drew near.

Which was a sign that he could hide no longer.

“Master.”

Raizel’s face was blank despite Frankenstein’s greeting, a natural response from a non-talkative noble.

Which was why Frankenstein momentarily lost his control over his facial profile when Raizel dispensed a verbal reply to his greeting.

“Still afraid, are you?”

Raizel’s words drew Frankenstein’s ears right back to Earth, the blonde man mincing his lips.

“Frankenstein. You treasure her.”

Raizel usually leaves others untouched in terms of their emotional states, in respect of their respective owners.

Yet here he was, volunteering to unwrap the subject as soon as he made his arrival, especially at a time like this, which gave Frankenstein good idea of how much he had been in anguish.

And now that the topic was out in the open with Raizel’s courtesy, Frankenstein knew somehow sneaking past this topic is not an option for him.

Considering where he was standing at this point, he knew he should at least touch on – no, definitely put an end to this dilemma.

“I believe you already know she treasures you just as same. You would know the colors of symphony in your hearts have been identical for a long time.”

Frankenstein’s lips were unmoving, his tongue dormant.

“Know I well what you dread. You must have dreaded harming Lunark even little under the influence of the Dark Spear, as Lascrea attested. Remember I of how the Dark Spear absorbed Crombel and the shards of Blood Stone to attain greatest power in its history. And with Lunark recovering from the harm caused by the Dark Spear, I can feel how haunting the guilt of your heart is.”

“...Then you would know. You would know that is exactly why I don’t deserve to...”

“Do you still believe you will be a harm to her?”

As mellifluous as crimson silk was Raizel’s voice, but Frankenstein had centuries of experience with his master to pick up how his tone steeled by the smallest of the shade.

Which is why he unconsciously began retracing the facts instead of losing his words.

“...No. I can no longer detect Crombel or Blood Stone within the Dark Spear.”

Frankenstein was telling the truth.

Although he had no chance to look back on exactly what Lunark did to him, too occupied with agony while standing guard by her bed, he could feel how the Dark Spear returned to how it used to be before it absorbed Crombel and the Blood Stone.

“Then no more is the reason for you to hesitate, is there?”

Frankenstein was dumbstruck, the answer so very simple and clear.

The reason why he had been staying away from those dear to him, Lunark included, was because he feared he will lose his battle of dominance against the Dark Spear and manifest as a weapon threatening them.

His fear grew even more humongous ever since the nightmare of effigies the Dark Spear staged for him.

But now that the Dark Spear can no longer be a nightmare for him, there was no reason for him to keep himself isolated any longer.

“What is the bidding of your heart? The choice is most definitely yours, but I have had my lessons from 820 years of sleep. Only logical for us it is to live our lives to fullest, with no regrets, during the time that is given to us. We must listen to our hearts for what they wish. We must follow the choices our hearts seek.”

Raizel gazed at his most trusted follower, unmoving and silent.

“I have already told you. The last thing you can save at the moment is time. So do not save your time. Use it well to look into your heart in wholesome.”

“...Yes, sir. I shall do that.”

Raizel, as always, did not linger after delivering all of his messages.

Frankenstein stayed muted in solitude until he got moving; it was time to take a look at another patient he was tasked with, and Tao joined him in the middle, rather faster than what either of them expected.

“Right now, we are the only ones tending to Mr. Jang. Now everyone at KSA knows about his betrayal, so nobody’s visiting him. Well, Sir Rael was the only one apart from us that...”

Thanks to Tao, Frankenstein was reminded of the lesser son of the only one he could ever dub as his true friend for his life.

Rael already left prior to his return to Korea, and being the heir of Kertias, the fastest of nobles, by now he would be officiating his homecoming in the Lord’s Hall.

And Frankenstein heard from his team about the skirmish Rael had with none other than his own kind – with none other than a head of a noble clan.

Tao was about to voice his concern for Rael while he was at it, but then he suddenly heard Frankenstein puffing out a ball of air.

Did he just laugh when we’re discussing Sir Rael here?

Tao’s eyes bulged out, but Frankenstein did not let him stare at him, wiping off his face of his laughter and concern.

‘What am I worried about? I should worry about myself. As of now, that boy will have no trouble at all.’

After a brief self-reprimand, Frankenstein began to strut ahead, with Tao tagging along and complaining at him to wait up.

(next chapter)

Previously Raizel asked Lunark to take good care of Frankenstein. Now he’s telling Frankenstein to follow his heart. I didn’t plan or see this coming, but I made Raizel a matchmaker in my fic. XD As you would’ve noticed, next chapter will be featuring on Rael, through a scene that I had been dying to compose since the brainstorming stage for this fic. Stay tuned and find out how my boy is going through another growth in his career as a head of his clan!

(Edited) I just realized I posted this chapter instead of saving it as a draft - my mistake, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again! My apology for whoever that got confused with the early upload!

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #lunarkxfrankenstein #wolfsbane #Mr.Wolf #AnAngelicDay

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