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lexiawrittings · 3 years

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The Compromise. I

PAIRING.

Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

SUMMARY.

Wealthy CEO, Steve Rogers is a businessman before everything. All he ever wanted is to be the best, richest and smartest, owning all the finest companies. His priority: be better in affairs than his father.

But when a huge opportunity is offered to him, Steve would do anything in his power to seize it. And he’s ready to make a sweet and dangerous deal with you. Even though you are not willing to make a compromise with him.

A/N.

Political Relationship/Marriage? AU. Dark AU.

This is DARK. ANGST (i’m sorry) & SMUT (explicit sexual content) +18. Breeding Kink - sort of... Non-Con & Dub-Con. Mentions of Political Marriage. Mentions of Relationship/Marriage of Convenience. Swearing.

Here it is. One of my favorite story. Hopefully you will enjoyed it too. As always, thank you very much for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback. (sorry for the layout at then, bugs from Tumblr)

A lots of Love! Lex!xxx

P.S: Gif is not mine, credits to the owner and maker.

WORDS.2942ish.

°°°

Being the assistant of the wealthy, arrogant, sexy Steve Rogers has its perks. Your income was very high so you could buy anything you ever wanted. You could use his name anytime you wished to impress your relatives, or friends when they were visiting you for booking the best tables in the greatest and luxurious restaurants in Manhattan. And, one of the greatest benefits of them all was that you could have the best sex you ever had with this gorgeous man. It was one of his “arrangements“ with you. Every once in a while, Steve Rogers, solemn and clever, needed a release from his stressful business life. He was the one who decided the when and where without any confirmation on your part. He just scheduled the meeting in your daily calendar like it was one of his business luncheon. And you showed up.

That’s why, on this Saturday evening you were, naked, sweaty, and panting hard under his muscular chest. Steve was thrusting into you, again and again, hitting the soft delicious spot inside your pussy. You clenched his thick cock once, biting your lips watching him grunted.

“ Baby! “ Steve moaned, still moving above you. He descended one hand caressing your skin stopping between your thighs. The blond man started to stroke your clit with his fingers, urgently. “ Come for me. ” He whispered his red mouth still wet from your previous orgasm. “ Come all around me.“

The bed was creaking with your movement in his darkroom. You were pressed into the mattress, feeling your climax coming once again deep inside your core. Steve pushed harder inside of you, feeling you were almost there. You grazed his smooth back with your nails arching your back as you reached your peak, deliciously hot and blissful. You whimpered, squeezing him hard. Steve swore under his breath, putting his head into the crook of your neck, he came in a low and deep groan, his hips jerking at each spasm, his cock throbbing inside of you. You breathed hard under him, softly kissing his shoulder. Your eyelids were heavy from tiredness but you felt euphoric. His hot breath was fanning your neck, his sweaty chest was against your naked breast. Steve swallowed as he braced himself from you, one hand next to your head the other stroking softly your clit making you shiver. He took himself out, looking at you, he frowned, concentrating.

“ Did you send the fiscal papers to the Financial Department? “ He asked a bit out of breath. His head was clear and turned into business mode.

You nodded once. You didn't know how after all of the sex, he could still think about work.

“ And did you send the e-mail to Stark? The one with the new numbers? “ He continued his voice hoarse.

You nodded again, confused. Because his voice was CEOish but his hand on your stomach was gentle.

“ Good. “ Steve replied.

He licked his lips humming his approval as he tasted your sweet juice on his tongue. He smirked seeing your eyes darkened from the sight closely watching him, but he pushed his body away from you and get up on the steady ground of his bedroom’s floor. He started to walked toward his bathroom, naked like the day he was born.

“ Monday I have a meeting with Wilson & Barnes, don’t forget to buy the beverage, Miss Smith. “ He informed you, his back, turned to you. You could saw the long scratch of your nails on his skin.

You sighed, watching him closed the door of the bathroom. It was back to Miss Smith again. It wasn’t your last name, but Steve Rogers wasn’t the greatest of the boss. And if he used this name it meant that your night together was over and it was the time for you to go home. It was your deal between the two of you since you started to work at Rogers Inc. You were the best assistant ever, he was a jerk and arrogant boss, and sometimes the two of you will meet, preferably in his apartment, and had sex. Just wild and sensual sex, with no feeling and attachment. For him for sure. But for you, it was difficult each day to fool you that you haven’t any feelings, for him. You were lost, one part of you liked the tender man, he was sometimes. And another part of you was scared of how harsh, brutal, and dark he could be when he wanted something.

°°°

“ I heard Rumlow is on the market again, trying to buy Stark Industries. “ James Buchanan Barnes stated, smiling behind his hand, watching his best friend getting angrier at the information. “ Even though he filed for bankruptcy last year, the word in the street is that a private investor gave him the money to buy one of the biggest companies in the world.” “ I don’t believe this lie, Buck’. “ Steve told him completely annoyed that his oldest rival/enemy was back in the game. “ I am the one who will buy Stark’s company. Tony trusts me. “ He continued, turning his chair back to the men to watch the biggest and tallest skyscrapers of New York City through the huge windows of his office. “ The only thing Tony trusts, my man, “ Sam smiled, raising himself from the white couch buttoning his jacket. “ Is money. “ He finally revealed, pointing at the glass door at his associate, he left the room a grin on his lips.

It was barely 10 a.m and Steve Rogers was already mad. The week had just begun.

“ Contact your father, Steve. I’m sure he will have a solution.“ Bucky raised himself from his seat his eyes following Sam leaning against the main desk in the waiting area. The dark-haired man sighed frowning at his colleague who was currently flirting with Steve’s assistant. The CEO couldn’t see them but he could hear them giggling in the lobby. His irritation was going up reaching a new level of anger. “ My father will blackmail me or worse bully me into something I don’t want to, for me to get the money. ” Steve replied without turning his back from the beautiful skyline of the city. “ Yes. “ Bucky admitted walking toward the door. “ But, in the end, you would possess the most important industrial firm in the world. “ He explained, his eyes watching the head of his friend, over his shoulder. He shook his head, before leaving the office closing the door behind him.

Steve knew that Bucky was right. He had to ask his father for the money or he could say goodbye to one of his biggest dream for his career: merging Stark company with his own. He turned around, turning his computer on to make a deal with the devil. Without turning his head from the screen, Steve hit one button on his telephone.

“ Miss Smith, I need you for a moment. “ He talks directly to the interphone set on the device and pushed his finger away.

You entered the office, less than a minute later. A pen and a notepad in your hand already ready to write his orders. He didn’t acknowledge you, still taping on the flat and white keyboard. A couple of minutes later, Steve finished his e-mail. He pressed send then he raised himself from his chair, tucking his tie and buttoning his expensive jacket. He walked around his desk finally looking at you. You had waited for him for the exactitude of two minutes and thirty seconds, but it wasn’t the first time he was a complete asshole to you. It won’t be the last time either.

" Follow me to the Financial Department, I need to know the exact numbers we could pull out for Stark Industries. " He informed you, still walking. " What ordered do I make to the kitchen for your lunch, sir? " You asked, nodding but also preparing your pen to write his answer. " Nothing. I’m going out for lunch and will remain out for the most part of this afternoon too.” He informed you, as he stopped in front of your frame. “Cancelled my appointments.”

You paused for a nanosecond at the new information settle in before putting your pen and small notepad in your skirt pocket. Steve was about to walk around you but he suddenly took your wrist into a firm grip in his hand. His eyes were darker and full of promising threats. You gasped surprised by his sudden movement. And then you felt it, the burning feeling from his tight hold, you winced under his angry face. He pulled on your wrist making you collided into his chest, with his other hand he raised your head, one finger under your chin. Your eyes met his cold blue one.

" It’s the first and last time I hear you flirting with one of my friends, sweetheart. Do you understand? " He asked his voice grave and low, his lips barely moving.

You nodded biting your lips under his glare. Steve leaned his mouth to yours, put a simple kiss on your lips. One. Tender. Then, he released you from his grip, stepping beside you to open the door. You let a quiet gasp escape your lips as you stroked the tender flesh of your wrist.

" Let’s go, Miss Smith, we haven’t all day. " He cried out without turning around, striding into the lobby toward the elevator.

Confused you followed him, tears in your eyes. You paused next to him, waiting for the elevator. Discomfort growing inside your chore.

" Miss Smith, you will do a quick reckon on Mr. Brock Rumlow while I’m away. I need to know everything. From the professors he had in preschool to the girls he's currently banging. " Steve commanded you as the metal doors open up in front of you. " Yes, sir. " You sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from your cheek taking your small notepad and pen from your pocket you took notes.

Steve step inside. You followed him but pushed yourself at the back in one of the four corners, putting as much distance as possible between the two of you, making yourself small. The elevator closed the doors and start his descent to the floors below. Steve turned around his back to you. " Stop crying, baby. You know how much it makes me hard. " Steve said to you, his voice low. He took his phone from inside his jacket and started scrolling "And, I don’t have the time to fuck you, right now. “

With a trembling hand, you wiped away the remaining tears on your skin. You bite your lips your sighted set on his long fingers tapping the screen. Sometimes Steve Rogers could be much worse than a simple asshole. He could be frightening.

°°°

It turned out to be a horrible and awful Monday as the day goes on and on. Steve was angry at everything. Pushing the bag, harder with his fists, he didn’t hear you walk into the gym room of the building. The night had felt in New York City, and almost every employee had returned home. Except you. You couldn’t leave until he did. Steve was wearing his sports clothes, a white t-shirt with sweat pants. His forehead and face were coated in sweat. He had returned to the office two hours ago without telling you anything. He just took his gym bag and went straight to this room. The space was large and clear with numerous sports machines. You leaned your side against the wall, a big folder in your hands.

Finally, Steve stopped hitting the punching ball. Panting, he put his hair away from his eyes.

" Did you finished what I asked you about Rumlow? " Steve asked, starting to take away the white bandage from his hand. " Yes. " You answered, clearing your voice. " I searched and classified every single information I could find on him. " You waved the folder to him. " From birth to present day. "

But Steve didn’t look at you. His thought turned on what his father had told him over their lunch earlier. “ Find a sweet wife, and makes an heir. I don’t want to see my name tainted and ending with you. “ Sweet words. His father was the worst but he had accepted to give him enough money to gather with what his financial team could bring from his company. It would be more than enough to beat Brock and buy Stark Industries but he still had to look for a wife and make a damn baby. He wasn’t the romantic kind of guy. Steve didn’t believe in love and all the other bullshit the media was brainwashing the world with. He loved sex and was pretty damn good at it. But what drove him was to grow his business and be the best. To be better than his father. And he was one step away from it and nobody or anyone will stop him.

" That’s great, Miss Smith. " He nodded taking the last bit of the bandage from his left hand before taking off the bandage from the right one. " Will you marry me, Y/N? " Steve asked not once raising his head from his fingers.

You froze feeling that you haven’t heard him well. You frowned taken aback by the words that came out of his mouth. You didn’t know if you should be more shocked at him for using your real name in three years or by his proposal. You swallowed hard waiting for him to laugh at you. And announced that all of it was a joke. A bad joke. Steve finally turned his blue sight toward you, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

" Well? " He asked impatiently, finishing with his bandage. " Oh, you are serious! " You exclaimed your mouth wide open, and almost dropping the huge folder on the floor. " Of course, I’m serious. " Steve replied annoyed throwing his stuff in his large sports bag.

Surprise, you dropped your gaze on the ground. Marriage? Marriage was such a big thing, celebrating and vowing in front of your friends and family to love each other for the rest of your life until death comes to break us apart. For you, it was something to do when you were in love but it wasn’t what Steve had in mind.

" You are great at your job, sexy and I like to have sex with you. " He enumerated looking at you and putting his hands on his hips. " I’m not taking no for an answer. So when we should get married, the sooner the better. " He continued his face dead serious looking at you.

You were so confused and baffled by all this, looking at him like a second head had grown on his neck. What the fuck was happening? You shook your head, making a step back to the door. He was insane. Seeing you moving back, Steve took two long strides to reach you before you could escape from him. Extracting the folder from your hold, he threw it across the gym room, papers flying around felt on the ground. Steve put his hands on both of your cheeks. He raised your head pulling it closer to his own. Scared, you look at his eyes. The word dangerous flashing around your mind.

" I told you, I won’t take no for answer. " He murmured his lips brushing yours. "When we will get married I will offer you everything that you desire. I’m filthy rich it’s almost indecent, sweetheart. You will have everything and more." He explained to you stroking your cheek, his dark eyes looking at your teary and fearful one. " A house, cars, clothes anything you want. All I asked in return is a couple of kids. " Steve whispered low against your lips. He brushed his hard-on in his pants against your lower stomach emphasizing his thought. " It will be your kids, I will send them to the best schools, they will have everything they want." He dry-humped your stomach, wiping a few tears on your cheeks with his thumbs, excited watching you frightened.

Steve was certainly insane selling this dream life to you. You needed to think alone, away from his pushy behavior. Closing your eyes, you tried to shrink away from his grasps but he was holding you tightly. You opened your eyes more tears falling on your cheeks, scared you shook your head once again.

" I-I… " You stuttered, choking a sob as you watched him smirked in front of you. " I told you, baby. I won’t take no for an answer. " He said quietly and pressed a kiss on your lips. He took one of your trembling hands from your side, pulled on it, and guided it inside his sweat pants and underwear. You gasped breaking away from him. You felt his hand forcing yours to pump his thick cock in his clothing. " I already told you, seeing you cried makes me horny, baby. " He mumbled in a low voice. " Horny and hard, just for you. " Steve reminded you, groaning at your touch.

He put his forehead against yours, feeling your hand all around him. He guided you to stroke him as he liked you too. You whimpered sobbing, not knowing what to do. Watching the tears falling on your cheeks, his cock throbbed inside of both of your hands. He darkly smiled at you before putting his lips on yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

You will be his perfect little wife.

°°°

Two. Thee. Four. Five.

#Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader #Dark!Steve Rogers x You #Dark!Steve Rogers Fanfiction #Dark!Steve Rogers Imagine #Dark!Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x You #Steve Rogers Fanfiction #Dark!Steve x Reader #Dark!Steve x You #Steve x Reader #Story: The Compromise #The Compromise Series

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

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Day 10: Dukexiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 10: You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Content warnings: allusions to past suicidal thoughts, just bad mental health past in general, vague bullying, swimming pools, past isolation, minor injury (broken ribs), general anxiety and self deprecation.

Word count: 3.9k

I was very low on time, and very exhausted from work, so I tried something new! I first discovered the concept of ‘bullet fics’ from @illogicallyinclined ‘s hockey au, GO CHECK IT OUT!!! (It’s living in my head rent free for a couple months now)

Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Roman have been friends for as long as they can remember. The first three met at a neighborhood barbecue when they were just a couple years old, and since they all live on the same block, became each other’s go to play buddies. They all stuck together in their first years of school together, the unbreakable trio, and then they met Roman. Or, Roman was pulled into their clutches and was therefore part of the group now. Patton saw him getting bullied across the playground and ran in to help, and now Roman is ‘eternally in their debt’. But they like him, so his extravagance is okay.

They hung out constantly, all throughout middle and highschool, and they graduated together. It was a big moment for all of them; Patton, who almost got left a grade behind several times (his dyslexia went undiagnosed for several years and he was simply categorized as ‘dumb’), Virgil, who almost didn’t make it due to a mental health crisis, Logan, who was pressured heavily by his parents to move up a grade and had to fight tooth and nail to stay with his friends, and Roman, who’s bullying problems didn’t exactly lessen through the years, and was more than relieved to be leaving that behind.

That summer, they pledge (mostly by Roman’s pleading) to try and do something fun every day. While Logan says this is improbable and Virgil groans at the thought of spending every day socializing, Patton is excited for the idea and “it’s two against two so you have to at least try!”

“That logic doesn’t make sense-” “Shut it, teach, just let us have this.”

So far, they’ve gone to the amusement park just out of town, gone to the park too many times to count, visited their local arcade that they hadn’t even stepped foot into since middle school, and tie-dyed a variety of clothing items in Patton’s backyard. Today, Patton is forcing them all to go to the pool, despite Logan claiming that they’re “feces infested, germ nesting grounds” and Virgil’s argument that “he burns like an unwatched pot of milk, how can you expect this from me”, Patton’s little puppy eyes do them all in.

Unfortunately, just as they’re leaving for the pool, Roman gets a call. At first it’s civil, and then his voice raises, and then he’s hanging up and throwing his phone onto his seat from where he’s standing next to the open car door. Angrily, he tells his friends that his mom got called into work and his dad’s on a business trip, so they need to take his brother with them.

At first, this raises some confusion.

“I was not under the impression that you had a little brother.”

“How old is he? Either way, I say, the more the merrier!”

Virgil is not thrilled at the idea of babysitting, since kids generally don’t like him, but he doesn’t voice his displeasure.

Roman has to admit, with much embarrassment, that it’s actually his twin, who is just so chaotically irresponsible that he has lost Home Alone Privileges. He’s broken the TV, accidentally started fires, and lost their dog one too many times and his parents said no more.

So he drives all the way back to his house, the three friends crammed into the back seat of his two door sedan (because the seats are A Pain to raise and lower and it makes more sense to give said brother the front seat instead of rearranging when they get him), grumbling under his breath about his stupid brother, stupid work, stupid stupid stupid-

Virgil is apt to agree with him, because if being around his three closest friends is enough interaction to mentally exhaust him, adding a new person to the mess is so much worse. He’s generally unexcited to meet this new person… until they pull up to the driveway.

And holy heck.

This man is GORGEOUS.

It takes a second for him to realize it’s Roman’s brother, because despite his first assumption, the two are not identical. They’re very similar, obviously related, for sure, but they are surprisingly easy to tell apart, and it’s not just because of the silver streak in the brother’s hair.

Which he should not find as hot as he does.

After Roman insists said brother does need to go get a bathing suit and no you can not go swimming in your jeans, he jumps into the passenger seat and, with as much energy as Roman has at Full Potential, introduces himself as Remus to the backseat audience.

Patton and Logan both say small hello’s, but Virgil is just stuck.

Dear lord. Princey, why have you been hiding him from me?

When they get to the pool, Virgil makes a complete fool of himself getting out of the car. He trips on his seatbelt, landing directly in Remus’ arms, and looks up to see this devil man grinning at him with all the hubris of a greek god. Before he can say anything, Virgil pushes himself up and rolls his eyes (all while internally screaming) and walks away, joining Patton and Logan where they are just entering the main gate.

He can’t help it; when in proximity of cuteness, his emergency mode is “be a dick”.

But it only gets worse from there.

When Virgil has an umbrella properly set up above a chair so he can save his skin from the sun (“I burn like unwatched milk on a stove. I’m not going in.”) and is comfortably situated with his phone and iced coffee, Remus steps in front of him to take his shirt off.

He’s pretty sure Remus didn’t even mean to. It just… happened to be directly in his line of sight.

As soon as the shirt is above his head, Virgil chokes on his drink, squirting iced coffee out of his nose and going into a coughing fit. Patton rubs his back while Roman tries not to laugh (and fails miserably), all while Remus is just watching him. Confused. (Logan is in the change rooms, because he insists on not wearing his bathing suit unless he is actively about to swim)

There’s more than just the sun issue that prevents Virgil from swimming. While his friend’s soulmarks are relatively small (Roman has a little one on his neck, Logan and Patton have a shared one just above their ankles), Virgil’s is a huge splotch that covers his entire side, reaching from just above his top rib to where his waistband usually lies. It’s all squiggles and lumps; Virgil once compared it to a storm cloud, but the lightning streaks were tentacles. It’s all in all, just… A Mess. And he doesn’t really like it. No one he’s ever met has had a soulmark like that, and he hates standing out.

When Remus takes off his shirt, in all his muscled glory, Virgil can’t miss the matching soulmark that trails down Remus’ side. It’s his, no doubt about it, but… that can’t be right, can it? Remus is so… full of life, dangerous, the epitome of chaotic; he’s everything Virgil is not. More so, he’s terrified of what Remus must think of him. He’s nothing special, he’s just an anxious ball of angst. What if he’s disappointed in who the universe decided to stick him with?

After he’s done choking on iced coffee, and Logan is back from the change room, he realizes Remus is long gone, in the deep end of the pool trying to gather as many foam noodles as he can. They check that Virgil is alright, and when he merely gives them a shaky thumbs up, they take it at face value and dive in. Except Logan, who uses the steps like a mature adult, you children.

He lets the rest of his coffee sit in the sun, until the sun melts all the ice cubes and it’s lukewarm to touch and overall, just gross, because suddenly he has no appetite. Yeah, this guy is gorgeous and he’s hopelessly gay for him, but... soulmate? That’s a lot for anyone to take in, much less someone with forty seven different kinds of anxiety. /j

If Virgil was uneasy taking his shirt off before, he sure as hell isn’t doing it now. No matter how much Patton and Roman plead with him, he stays glued to his chair, eyes flickering from his friends playing Marco Polo to watching his soulmate Remus. He’s turned the pool noodles into a giant raft and is trying to balance on it, like an absolute idiot.

An extremely good looking idiot.

Virgil can’t help but notice that… he’s all alone. Roman, Patton, and Logan barely even throw him the occasional glance, much less invite him to hang out with them in the water. Worse than that, he seems relatively fine with it. It could just be that he doesn’t want to intrude on his brother’s friend group, but Remus doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to have those boundaries. Which kind of insinuates that he’s used to being alone, and Virgil can’t help but empathize.

He notices it a lot, actually. The group meeting Remus also coincides with Roman and Virgil becoming more close; less of a frenemy relationship, and more of an actual friendship. Patton is delighted, because this means the three of them get to hang out at Roman’s huge place more often without their constant bickering (because when it got bad at one of their houses, Virgil’s was never more than a ten minute walk away when Roman finally pushed his last button. Here, they were all stuck.)

And every time they go over, he can’t help but notice the loud music coming from Remus’ room, or the man just sitting on the couch watching TV (which he tends to do shirtless, which does not help Virgil at all), or irritating Roman’s parrot. All in all, doing things alone. It strikes a chord in Virgil’s heart, which is something he’d never admit to another person.

Maybe that’s why, in the following week when Roman has the grand idea to go on a mountain hike, Virgil quietly asks if they could invite Remus. At first, Roman is adamant. “He’ll just ruin things, he doesn’t appreciate nature, he’s annoying!” But Patton claims “The more the merrier” and Logan doesn’t have any particular stance, so he begrudgingly invites Remus.

Who very excitedly accepts.

The trail Roman visited is quite a ways out of town, so they cram back into his tiny car and start the drive. Patton claimed shotgun, so him and Roman have derailed into an animated conversation about cartoons, while Logan just pops in his earbuds and leans his head against the window. For the longest time, Remus and Virgil sit in awkward silence, because neither of them could get a word in edgewise to the front seat conversation even if they tried, and they don’t… really… know what to say… to each other.

It’s Remus who finally breaks the silence (shocker).

“Roman tells more you’re the one who wanted to invite me.”

“Yeah, well, you seemed lonely. And… I mean, you’re Roman’s brother. Can you really be that bad?”

He means it as a joke, but he sees the light in Remus’ eyes die slightly. The tone of his voice doesn’t falter though, remaining as joyful and quirky as always.

“I’m a lot more fun than Roman. People just don’t like to see it that way.”

“Setting your kitchen curtains on fire is fun?”

“If you were there, you’d understand!”

And they keep talking, maybe trailing into borderline flirting, for the whole ride. Virgil is surprised at the lack of tenseness in his shoulders, because though Remus is loud and a little unsettling, he is incredibly patient when Virgil has trouble forming his sentences and doesn’t interrupt him when he’s talking; an incredible help to someone with crippling anxiety. Underneath his exterior, he’s actually… incredibly soft? What?

By the time they pull up to the trail, Remus is actually starting to grow on Virgil. Since Patton and Roman are still so into their debate, and Logan seems content listening to his music (or podcast, but who really knows), they continue talking as the hike starts. The shorter boy can’t help but glance at the other every few seconds, seeing their soulmark just peeking past the edge of his baggy tank top. If Remus notices, he says nothing.

And he learns Remus was bullied a lot through school, just like Roman was, but instead of finding a group that supported him, he broke off as a lone wolf. He came off scary or maybe just a little bit crazy to anyone he tried to befriend, since his social skills were pretty lacking due to disuse and his incredible lack of filter, so he learned early that staying alone hurt less. And in that time, he just became more and more… Like That… because he literally never had peers to mature with.

The hike is a long one. Remus is pretty eager to spill his guts, probably since he was never able to before, so Virgil feels obligated to do the same. He tells Remus about his anxiety, about his mental health issues during school, about his home life and his hobbies, and the fact that there are more people around just fades into the background. It could as well be just them, and Virgil starts to wish it was.

So of course, that’s when everything goes to shit.

A mountain biker comes ripping down the path, too quick to even process, and Virgil is caught off guard. Of course, he’s not walking near the edge of the path, because he has some shred of common sense, but the bike speeding by him causes him to flinch and stumble to the side; an instinctual reaction. Except his instincts decided to not remember until the last second that he’s at the edge of the trail.

It’s almost like happening in slow motion, his foot goes over the edge, and he doesn’t realize what’s about to happen until his other foot is already off the ground, ready to take that next step back, and he’s falling. Luckily (as lucky as one can be in this situation), it’s not a straight drop, just a decently long, steep slope that’s essentially just a bunch of rocks and weeds.

He hears his friends scream his name, sees a hand fly out to catch him, and it just snags the edge of his jacket before he’s freefalling for a split moment. One heart stopping, never ending, eternal and all too short moment of weightlessness where he twists his body, hoping to try and brace himself, and then he meets the slope.

Hard.

His breath leaves him in a wheeze and he distinctly hears a loud snap. Through his pain addled brain, he tries to stop his slide further down by grabbing anything; rocks, roots, dirt. It’s useless.

He stops naturally, on a small ledge several meters from the top before the slope continues. For a moment, he can only lay there, trying to breathe through the intense pain flaring through him pretty much everywhere, not to mention the sheer levels of pure panic numbing his thoughts. He stares at the clouds, watching them as they float by, each breath spreading fire through his torso but at the same time strangely numb.

And then, “VIRGIL!”

His eyes shoot open (wait, when did he close them?) to see Remus’ concerned face above his. If the messied state of his outfit is any indication, this man just slid down the slope to catch up to him. His hands are hovering above Virgil, scared to touch, but more scared that Virgil is going to keep falling.

“Fuck,” is Virgil’s eloquent response. He tries to take a deep breath, tries to do his breathing pattern to calm his nerves, but NOPE. Wrong move.

He immediately gasps and his hands fly to his ribs, another flair of pain shooting up them. Remus’ hands grab his, pulling them away from his torso, holding them securely. “I think you have some broken ribs. That was… one hell of a fall. We need to get you back up to the trail though, okay?”

Virgil can only nod his head, allowing Remus to help him stand, biting his lip so hard to keep from crying out that his lip splits. It hurts.

Trust Logan to come up with ideas on the fly. The biker must have stopped when he realized Virgil had fallen (at least he didn’t just keep driving), because when Virgil opened his tear filled eyes, there was a bike tire just a few feet from his face. He followed the frame of the bike, up to where Roman was holding the other wheel and standing precariously on the slope. Logan is clinging onto his hand, one foot on the slope and one on the actual trail, and if Virgil has to guess, the biker and Patton are just out of sight, keeping Logan steady.

Virgil knows it’s going to hurt before Remus even warns him that it will, watching the taller man get a good grip on the bike wheel, before holding Virgil’s wrist with as much force that can muster without actively cutting off circulation. Virgil holds onto his wrist in return, Remus gives a shout to go ahead, and the human/bike chain they’ve created begins to pull them up.

And oh lord, if Virgil thought just laying down was painful, tripping and stumbling up a steep incline is another world altogether. This time, biting his lip doesn’t work and he lets out a few muffled cries as the team works together, Remus squeezing his wrist every time a choked sound escapes his lips, mind too full of pure agony to even curse.

When they finally step foot onto the trail again, Virgil is in tears, and he is too far gone to even care. The biker is incredibly apologetic, offering his contact information and bidding them adieu when they insist that they’re okay now, and takes off, at an admittedly much slower pace than he was at before.

Logan, the only one of them with proper (and extensive) first aid training, forces Virgil to sit, giving him time to find a position that puts as little pressure on his ribs as possible, before crouching in front of him.

“Let me check if they’re broken.”

His hand reaches out towards Virgil’s shirt and all the alarm bells start BLARING. No. No, no, no, no, no. Before he can restrain himself, he reaches out and slaps Logan’s hand away, sending another wave of pain through him. The pain doesn’t matter though, not in comparison to Logan possibly revealing his soulmark.

Logan doesn’t understand this reaction properly (when does he ever), so he tries again.

“Virgil, I need to check the extent of the damage. A cracked rib means you can still make it back to the car. A broken rib would require emergency services and probable air lifting to prevent further damage, like a punctured lung.”

“Fine,” Virgil hisses through clenched teeth, bitterly understanding his logic, “Just… don’t take the shirt off.”

He tries to say it to only Logan, but it’s clear the other’s heard it by the way they exchange confused glances. Yes, they’ve never seen Virgil without a shirt, except they’d always pegged that up to insecurities. Wouldn’t those take a back seat in a possible medical emergency?

Logan complies, however, and slides his hand under the hem of his shirt without moving the fabric. He runs his hands slowly up each rib, concentrating heavily, until he reaches one midway up and Virgil yelps, instinctively flinching backwards.

Startled by the reaction (it’s his first time actually administering first aid like this, give him a break), Logan jumps back, forgetting his hand is still under Virgil’s shirt.

His hand moves up.

Virgil moves back.

And the hem of his shirt rises up his chest for just a moment.

A moment’s all that’s needed, though. When you notice something that you’ve seen yourself a hundred times over, admiring this way and that in the mirror to commit it to memory, it only takes a glance to recognize it.

Remus only needed that split second of the shirt riding up to notice the lower half of the soulmark, and he definitely did notice it, if the way his jaw drops is anything to go off of. Virgil winces again, not from pain this time, and looks down at his shoes, abhorring the awkward silence that ensues.

The other three don’t understand, watching the two of them with varying levels of confusion, until Remus blurts:

“Are you my soulmate?”

And everything clicks into place. Virgil nods mutely, still not looking up, afraid of his reaction. Would he be upset Virgil kept it a secret? Would he be disappointed? Would he would he would he-

“Oh thank GOD!”

That’s… not the reaction he was expecting. He looks up to see Remus grinning like a child on their birthday, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I mean, if I’d want anyone to be my soulmate, it would be you! You don’t hate me, which a lot of people do, and you actually listen to me, which is nice, and not to mention you’re super hot, like the whole emo thing is just-”

“Remus!” Roman screeches, cutting him off, “You’re embarrassing him, let him breathe!”

It’s the first time Roman has ever come to Virgil’s defense, and he’s only vaguely happy about that. Truth is, he’s so much more wrapped up in the fact that Remus is actually happy that he doesn’t even notice Logan’s back to touching his ribs until another sharp pain brings him back.

“They’re definitely not broken. Fractured, at worst. Either way, you’re going to the hospital. Only question is, can you get down to the car?”

Virgil wants to nod, wants to go along with no problem, but he can barely take a step before his knees almost give out. If he could double over without making everything worse, he would.

Remus doesn’t see this as a problem, though, eagerly offering Virgil to ride on his back until they get to the bottom. The shorter is, obviously, reluctant to this plan, seeing as how it’s a decently long trail and he isn’t that light, but damn, his soulmate insists, and next thing he knows, he’s gingerly holding onto Remus’ shoulders as he pushes back into a standing position.

(If he wasn’t already super hot, he’s strong, too? Virgil has struck the literal jackpot.)

He buries his face into the crook of Remus’ neck, trying not to wince at every jolt and bump as they maneuver their way down the hill, all conversation halted so they can focus on the two of them. Roman walks in front of them and Patton and Logan behind, ready to jump into action at any sign of stumbling.

But it’s okay, it actually is, Virgil realizes as they’re making their way down the hill. Sure, they only really bonded today, but they also bonded in a day, and if that’s not telling of the future they’ll have together, whether romantic or platonic (they still need to talk that out), it’s gonna be okay.

Anyone who’s willing to throw themselves into harm's way and carry you down a mountain has got to be a worthy soulmate.

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts soulmate au #sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fanfiction

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

back to me ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : dynasty au; angst; fluff

❖ word count : 12,6k.

❖ warning : mentions of death & violence

❖ summary : you were supposed to avenge the fallen by taking the crown prince’s life but one wrong tug from fate and all your effort has gone to waste.

❖ a/n : read chan’s spin-off here!

prologue.

Life can’t possibly get any worse for you, not when you meet the right person at the wrong time.

When you’re too busy staring at the ground, this boy - who claims to be the crown prince of Goryeo - keeps asking General Bang if he can come out and play in the rain. As if he’s wondering what it feels like to stop time and walk through every single droplet, to suspend this watery gift from Mother Nature and peek through each one. As if he’s questioning what if he can sit inside of them, taking a gravity propelled ride.

He smiles at you when he catches your intense stare, completely ignoring the fact that you might be judging him for his questionable demeanor for a royalty.

You don’t smile back.

A guard hollers aloud, drawing a line with his sword above the crowd, “Make way for His Majesty!”

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty!” A woman shoves her way through the crowd full of people who are kneeling down on their knees, her eyes frantically peeking over the king’s shoulder. Finally, when she spots your shuddering figure next to the young prince, her eyes soften. “May I have a word with you?”

“Bow down, peasant—“

“Hush,” the king waves his hand dismissively. “Let’s see what she has to say.” And the guard scoffs, stomping away with his hand clutching onto his sword, his jaw clenched.

The woman sighs in relief, getting down on one knee and explains calmly. “Your Majesty, my husband and I can barely make enough to eat but after some time of adapting and working hard, we’re sure that little Y/N can come and live with us instead.”

The king laughs lightheartedly and pats her shoulder, “That’s very kind of you,” and he scans around only to see everyone holding their breath, waiting for his next words. Once he’s determined to do something, it’s either going with the flow or having their head on a chopping block. They can’t even fathom how much courage this woman has mustered to speak up like that. “But I can assure you that—“

“Her father and mother were good people, Your Majesty,” she cuts him off almost coldly, cautious not to appear as discourteous because the last thing she needs is one of the guards running their swords right through her throat. “Do you have what it takes to raise this child? As your own? Will she be able to blend in with your people?”

“I-“

“Your Majesty, I’d hate to be disrespectful,” the woman’s tone grows louder, practically spitting into his face. “But we’ve known Y/N for her entire life. We know what’s best for her and we can manage to take care of her. She’s such a good child and deserves nothing but the best. And we don’t think it’s a good idea for you to—“

The king inhales sharply and clears his throat. The woman cowers almost immediately and the noises from the crowd go dead, knowing that she just messed with someone she shouldn’t. He turns around to see his son tugging the little girl by her sleeve, his eyes filled with concern and empathy. “She will only get the best with me,” the king snaps and the woman is shoved away by another guard, clearing the road ahead for him.

“Let’s go,” the young prince grins at you brightly and somehow, manages to put a weak smile on your grim expression. Like a ray of sunshine on a rainy day, he outshines everyone else as if he’s glowing from within. “Your name is Y/N, right?” You only nod at that, feeling slightly suffocated in the black silky robe that they put you in earlier. “It sounds very pretty. My name is Jisung—“

“Come on, we don’t have much time left, Your Highness,” General Bang tells him firmly before tugging the both of you away from the village along with his own son.

You surprise the royal family by staying relatively calm and unfazed throughout the burial ceremony, your expression only wavers slightly at the end when it finally hits you that they're really gone. Things are never gonna be the same again. And you’re determined to utterly destroy the royal bloodline so that they’ll know how it feels like to have a loved one taken away from them forever.

You screw your eyes shut to prevent tears from spilling, holding your head low so that no one will be able to witness your vulnerability. But as you feel another pair of eyes on your back, you snap your head back on instincts and the young prince’s eyes hold yours. And they flit away just as quickly as when you meet his.

The prince bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic smell making him cringe. His heart twists uneasily into a knot when he sees your shoulders shuddering. You lost your parents at such a young age and suddenly you’re being pulled into a place full of people that you don’t know with rules that you’re not supposed to be tied down with. You didn’t choose this life, yet you’re staying strong and trying so hard not to break down in front of all these strangers. He’s never felt his heart so heavy before, and he wishes he could do something to make you feel better.

“Go,” Chan, the General’s son nudges him with his elbow. “Don’t just stand there,”

“What?”

“Go, she needs you,” the older boy encourages him. “She knows no one here, and you were holding her hand back there, I think she might feel less ashamed to cry in front of you.”

The prince mentally thanks his friends with his eyes before walking over to you, a gentle hand on your quivering figure. “Hey,” he says softly, only to be met with your wide, teary eyes. “It’s okay, I promise.”

“I-“ you choke out, breaths coming in short as your heart continues to shatter inside your chest capacity. “I’m not- I’m not crying, I’m really not,”

He shakes his head and squeezes your shoulders in reassurance. “It’s okay, to cry. I can protect you, no matter what.”

“No! Don’t touch me!” You yelp stubbornly, you’re not giving into a stupid damn prince just because he has a cute smile. “I’m okay- I’m okay, it’s just-“

“Y/N!” The prince shouts unintentionally and immediately regrets it when you take a step back. “I mean it when I said that I’d protect you. Just cry, it’s okay.”

You sniffle, “You’ll protect me no matter what?”

“Always.” And he nods. “You have my word.”

“But why?”

He smiles at you fondly, “I just feel like I have to,” your heart skips a beat, out of impulse when he gives your shoulders a squeeze of reassurance. “I’m not crazy, I know in my heart, that it’s right.”

Then, the dam finally breaks. Before he knows it, you’re already throwing yourself at him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you cry into his chest, tears streaming down on your cheeks uncontrollably. All he did was smile and your heart is already going on a rampage. You can’t believe that you’re crying into the crown prince’s embrace, whose life you’ve sworn to take when you get older.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget this moment.

one.

Chaos. Solitude. Fresh air.

Every once in a while you would drink in the atmosphere, the aromas of the local market like elixir, far different from the suffocation inside the palatial and magnificent palace. A lost child wails for his mother, a man frantically looking for his missing bag, shopkeepers screaming at the top of their lungs, throwing out offers left and right while customers are shoving and pushing each other to bargain for the best price possible. It’s practically impossible to even find an empty stall. Though you don’t thrive on interacting with the stallholders, you can feel the lively aura and the raw happiness in their eyes despite not having much.

But the moment you step foot onto the gritty stone surface, the smiles fall from their faces as though you’re Death’s incarnate, disgusted whispers along with hushed gossips spread like wildfire. You’re used to it, sadly, because if you were them, you’d probably hate yourself too. You’re merely nothing but a child from an average family, your parents could barely make enough to eat and then suddenly one day, you got to live inside those cold, monumental walls of the royalties, enjoying some of the delicacies that the higher class has to offer. They have every right to detest you, and you accept that.

You raise a brow when a little girl brushes past you, pushing you a little too harshly for your liking. You shake your head in disapproval and brush it off as normal behavior for a kid but soon, you realize something doesn’t feel right. Your pouch of money is missing.

Eyes grow alarmed, you easily spot the tiny figure weaving herself through the crowds, edging through the dense flow of people and easily slipping away without catching any attention. A sly little thief. But she can’t get far considering how you know this town like the back of your hand. It’s still the same, not very tranquil or quaint, especially when spring is coming along and everyone’s too busy preparing for the upcoming festival.

Soon enough, you find yourself in a dark alleyway - it’s like a completely separate realm from the outer world. It’s nothing but the eerie silence, darkness and the sour relics of thrown away vegetables along with something as disgusting as dead animals. As you walk between the walls that are too high for you to seek for any source of light, your nose scrunches up and your eyes narrow down into a glare. A weak beam of sunlight casts your shadow over the ground like painting black on the deepest shade of charcoal, and soon it bleeds out.

“You’re a fast runner,” From your lips, a sharp warning slips out, not as much of a threat but it’s all the scarier when the narrow space is oddly quiet. “But not quite fast enough.”

The little thief slumps against the wall, murmuring, seemingly uninterested. “What do you want from me?”

You immediately grit, anger flickering at the back of your eyes, “You have what belongs to me. And I’m gonna need it back.”

“No can do,” she responds in a rather calm demeanor, almost sarcastically. “It’s mine now.”

Her expression remains unfazed even when you take a few steps forward, mere inches from her tiny figure. “It’s not right, to do what you just did. I don’t want to hurt you either,” you try to explain calmly though your insides are seething with nothing but pure rage. You never knew a child can tick you off so easily when the enemies don’t. “So just give it back, and I’ll get you home. Where are your parents?”

“What’s not right? Stealing? Then what am I supposed to do? We barely have three meals per day thanks to people like you. Moreover, my parents don’t care about me.”

“Don’t say that,” you shake your head. “I’m sure that no matter what, they’ll still love you very much.”

She counters and your heart freezes for a split second, “What do you know about family?” It’s no surprise to everyone here that you’re an orphan, a damn lucky orphan on that note.

You kneel down to match her eyes’ level and sigh deeply, “Now, watch your next words very carefully, kid,” and she scoffs at you as if a subtle ‘what if I don’t’ is being hinted at you. “I’m a very bad person, okay, I’m barely the age of your parents but I’ve killed twice as many people. And I don’t want little boys and girls like you to follow my bloodied traces.”

“So you’re not happy inside the palace?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” you smile bitterly. “It’s just that, pain is an old friend.”

A single footstep rings through your eardrums and your hand automatically reaches for the dagger in your pocket as you grab the uninvited guest by the neck, slamming their skull to the wall. You’ve done this motion so many times that you can’t even count, your muscles just move on their own. You can physically see them gulp in hesitation, the corners of their mouth twitching when your blade misses them by a strand of hair. From underneath their black hood, you’re met with a pair of doe eyes, and an audible gasp leaves your lips. “What-“ you drop your weapon momentarily, “Your Highness, what are you doing outside all by yourself?”

“Care to explain what you are doing here without the guards then?”

“Your Highness? Guards?” The little girl questions with her brows knitted together. And you mentally facepalm yourself. No one’s supposed to know if the prince wants to sneak out of the palace.

Jisung takes off his hood and frowns at you furiously, tucking a strand of hair to the back of your ear. “I was looking everywhere for you, Minho said you were practicing with Chan but he’s going on a work trip with his father for the following days. So I sneaked out by myself, I need to talk to you.” To your dismay, betting your trust on Minho was a horrendous mistake, mostly because he’s not that good at lying. Not like you have anyone else to cover you up when Chan’s not here.

“You shouldn’t be outside by yourself!”

He immediately whines, “Why? I’m not a kid!”

“You’re not, but you sure act like one,” you quirk a brow. “Careless, whiny, and not to mention, Chan had to spend the night with you whenever there are thunderstorms.”

“I was practically a child!”

You assert slyly, “Why yes, a child who decapitated his grandfather’s statue instead of practicing properly.” And you’re also quick to change the topic, you don’t have much time left for this seemingly never-ending conversation, “Aren’t you supposed to be by your father’s side the entire day? Didn’t he ask you to help him with resolving the mess in court?” You ignore the way your heart is hammering deep down, and try to counter as indifferently as possible.

He grabs you by the wrist and your heart dips in your chest cavity. “I sneaked out, obviously,” he rolls his eyes to the moon. “For the love of God, Y/N, you need to tell me what you are doing. Why are you here? And who’s this?”

“I don’t know. This little brat stole my money and now I’m stuck with her!”

The little thief exclaims as if you just insulted her, “I’m not deaf!”

Jisung regains his composure and says firmly, “Y/N, I really, really need to talk to you.”

“That can wait,” you whisper harshly, warm breath fanning his face. The prince’s breath hitches in his throat when he realizes how close you are, and his stomach turns every time your nose brushes over his. “I need to bring you back to the palace before sunset or His Majesty is going to ask for my head.”

The girl raises her brow, “Uhm, I’d hate to interfere, but don’t you think you ought to look out for that?”

Immediately, your hand clasps firmly onto her mouth when the other is on Jisung’s, he struggles to form a proper sentence, squirming but you don’t bother to move an inch when all you can focus on is the rather familiar voices of the guards you went through training with since little, their heavy footsteps scratching against your nerves. You can’t afford them seeing you with the crown prince outside the palace, along with a suspicious-looking little girl.

As soon as they’re long gone, blended into the sea of people, you let go with a long exhale. Jisung exchanges wordless stares with you and you notice how his cheeks are slightly flushed, almost like he’s blushing before he averts his gaze, finding a sudden interest in the pile of garbage in the dark alleyway. You clear your throat before outstretching one of your hands towards the girl, “Come on now, do I look to be in a gaming mood?”

“Fine,” she grumbles and fishes your pouch of money out from her pocket, dropping it into the palm of your hand. “But you’re gonna have to do me a favor.”

You roll your eyes, reluctantly nodding. I’m never having kids.

As if on cue, her stomach rumbles loudly and she tilts her head to the side, “I’m kinda hungry..”

two.

You’ve never really considered Manwoldae Palace your home, it still feels as though you’re an outcast whenever you’re walking along the pavements at night, or when you’re gazing listlessly at the moon from your quarters. You often stare at the astronomy tower where the royal astrologists spend most of their time analyzing and studying the alignment of each constellation, making sure that everything stays in their respective positions. Hence, your curiosity for astrology naturally grows over time because you feel like no one knows your concerns and struggles like the stars above.

More than ten years of training to be a part of the royal military regime definitely shaped the skills and deadly techniques that you possess right now. The idea of the royal family’s safety being top tier priority has been etched to your mind like it’s been there all along. Sometimes you feel used, as if they’re just taking your skills to their advantage, seeing you as nothing but a weapon for their own good. But then again, you’ve learned not to bite the hand that feeds you.

And it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.

Minho follows your footsteps when you exit his private palace grimly, “Don’t fuss over this! You know better than to hold grudges.”

“You had one job! One damn job!” You throw your hands up and pry out of frustration. “What a tremendous idea. Let’s tell Jisung that I’m training with Chan, who’s obviously going on a work trip with his father. Absence announcements exist for a reason! Did you think that Jisung wouldn’t know just because he’s always busy with conducting court affairs? It’s brilliant, it’s truly brilliant.”

“Then what was I supposed to say? That you’re dead?” The physician immediately puts his hands up when you turn around, the tip of your dagger slightly hovering over his throat. “It’s not my fault you’re overly fond of sneaking outside! Don’t you think if you weren’t acting so stubbornly and hot-headed all the time then this wouldn’t have happened?” he yelps.

You retract your weapon with a scoff, tucking it into your back pocket, “Since when am I stubborn? And hot-headed?” With every word, you jab your index finger towards him, irritation bubbling up under your skin like fire. Okay, maybe he’s not entirely wrong.

“How did you two get back safely anyway?” Minho questions, curiosity sparkling in his brown eyes.

And you internally grimace at the thought, shaking your head profusely. “I don’t think you would want to know.”

“Y/N— ow!“ Jisung whimpers.

“Not a word, Your Highness, not a word.”

“The guards are always on duty! They are everywhere!”

You grumble as a reply, “Thank you for the information, I’m very much aware,” As he continues to complain about one too many reasons and ways that you two will be caught, you’re already done with tying his hands to his back with some rope that you found at the market. “Stay still, would you?”

“They’re gonna report this to my father if we fail, why can’t we just walk in like how we do normally?” Jisung squirms in discomfort at the restraints on his wrists when you fix the hood on his head until it’s low enough to cover the upper half of his face. “He might banish me!”

You make a face of disapproval, “In what world would my plan work out if you kept being so yappy and loud?”

“You might be executed for this, Y/N!”

“Now you’re just exaggerating, I’ve arrested plenty of bad people by myself before. It shouldn’t be too suspicious,” you shake your head and chuckle, your knuckles hovering over on the intricate wooden door. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Are you mad?!”

“Possibly,” you give him a slight smirk. “If it were easy, anyone would have done it.”

Minho puts a hand over his mouth and gasps monotonously, “Well done, you literally scared the living daylights out of the crown prince. No wonder..” You look at him, confused when he trails off and an imminent spark of fear ignites at the pit of your stomach. Jisung is still okay, right? “Apart from a poor appetite, he has also been struggling with insomnia, and it seems as though his mood’s been dampened these days as a result of not having you by his side.”

There’s absolutely nothing to diagnose, he’s ridiculous. “You know,” you force out a fake smile, one that you always give people at the market when they unintentionally step on your toes. “I’m suddenly having the urge to run my sword through your pretty little mouth, is that concerning or not?”

“Very,” he gulps and takes a step back cautiously. Regardless of his joy in spatting unnecessary commentary at you, he knows not to tick you off because clearly, he’s the one at a disadvantage when it comes to fighting here.

Lee Minho has been studying pharmacology and medicine for almost his entire life. Trained by only the best of the best physicians inside the palace to save humans’ lives. Healing people is all that he’ll ever know. It’s not very surprising as to why you two would detest each other to a degree at some point because your daily tasks alone have explained a lot.

“But would you actually kill me? If you had the chance to?”

You’re caught off guard at that, your witty retort growing dead in your throat and your spine goes tense. “One more word and I’ll—“

“...run your sword through my mouth?” He cuts you off with a soft chuckle, venom dripping from his voice “Surely there’s an evident line after that. You don’t think that I’m stupid, do you? A child, whose parents were ruthlessly murdered, and the king wanted to make it up to them by raising you in the palace. They might not notice it, but I can see right through you, Y/N. Your anguish and rage reek off so heavily every time I see you, I almost feel like I am being suffocated.” Little by little, the exasperation snakes its hands around your neck and chokes you, you want to shout, throw a tantrum and slam your throbbing head against the wall. Is he testing you?

“You’re ready now, more than you’ll ever be. Considering the fact that Jisung’s coronation is coming up, there’s your perfect chance to get your revenge. On all of us,” Minho sees all the colors drain from your face, your fists curled and cold beads of sweat trickling down on your temple, but he can’t seem to stop taunting you. “Isn’t this what you want? To end this once and for all? Aren’t you tired of fighting with one arm tied behind your back? Or being their little puppet? Taking one life after another every day for them? What are you waiting for? When the prince is dead, you can run, run away and never return. It’s for the lesser evil-“

His words come out as incoherent as ever when your fingers are gripping on his throat, threatening to crush his windpipe. His lungs greedily gasp for air as you back him up against the wall harshly, the inferno inside of you burn his ability to talk back into ashes. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to vent it all out, but it’s just so simple to be cruel at that moment, and all he’s doing is adding fuel to the fire. He’s just making it easier for you to end his life.

“Evil is evil,” your dark gaze sends chills down on his spine, and Minho can physically feel his legs growing weak. “Lesser or not, it’ll do either party no good. I’m not going to kill anyone, yet. But if you keep being so irritating, I can’t promise you’ll be seeing tomorrow’s daylight.” You pinpoint your words very carefully, releasing the hand on his throat. He immediately falls to the ground, coughing furiously into the sleeve of his robe.

“Why?” He stubbornly asks even when his vocal cords are cracking from the pressure that you applied, “What made you change your mind? Why not kill us?”

Your stare tears right through his soul as you speak for yourself loud and clear, conflict twisting into a knot inside your stomach, “Because if then, I will be what they want me to become, a heartless weapon. I am not heartless, I just learned how to use my emotions less, for the better.”

Minho leans his head back against the brick wall, laughing breathlessly, “So it’s true,” you narrow your eyes at him, unsure of what he’s trying to say. “You do love him.” Your eyes widen in horror. He did all of this, getting cuts on your edges just to clarify the feelings that you have for Jisung that even you are uncertain of.

“You—“

“Y/N,” Jeongin, the eunuch props his hands onto his knees after running towards the west gate, gasping for air. “The king wishes to see you.”

three.

Feet firmly planted on the grass, you exhale deeply before fluttering your eyes upwards to glare at the night sky. Defiant and irksome in your eyes. The seemingly harmless stars are looking down at you almost mockingly. You see absolutely no empathy, no sense of responsibility, no fairness in the everlasting black canvas that puts everyone to sleep every night.

A familiar figure enters the garden and you hastily get down on one knee, daring not to look straight into their eyes. “Your Majesty, my respects,” you say firmly, maintaining your position. The king gently places a hand on your shoulder wordlessly, tugging on it slightly as an attempt to pull you upright. But you refuse to do so, shaking your head.

“Y/N, there’s no need to be so formal anymore, we’re practically family,” says the king, followed by a soft chuckle.

Your head starts throbbing uncontrollably at his words. Family. You try hard not to let your features twist in exasperation, knuckles turning white from how tightly you’ve been balling your fists. “I’m not worthy of Your Majesty addressing me as ‘family’. Please take it back,” you voice croaks at the end as you swallow the lump in your throat.

The word endlessly echoes in your cloudy mind, making you dizzy as it slips through your walls, sinking into your heart. A bitter taste rises and creeps onto your tongue when you try to speak, so you simply stay quiet. You were taken away from your family on your tenth birthday, initially being forced to work for the royal family as a maiden after your parents’ death. But the general saw how much potential you had while joining a made-up sword combat battle with his son and decided to take you under his wing and into training.

You grew up fast and so did your skills. You’re now one of the astutest and most trustworthy members of the military regime, exclusively permitted to stay by the crown prince’s side in order to protect his life at all costs. Little did they know, you’ve sworn to take the prince’s life one day since you first stepped foot into the palace. You wanted them to witness the light going out in his eyes as he took his last breath so that they'd know how you felt that day, how agony tore you apart, piece by piece. A taste of their own medicine as they let a wolf into the fold.

Blinded by extreme hatred and malevolence, you’re utterly terrified when slowly, that distasteful feeling in your chest has turned into something else. Something that isn't supposed to be here. Moreover, you’ve developed a particularly strange kind of feeling towards the crown prince. Unfortunately.

The king says softly. “Do you know why I demanded your presence then?”

“I don’t know why, Your Majesty,” you answer after regaining your composure. “But I will take full responsibility for what I’ve potentially done wrong.”

“You did nothing wrong, my dear,” he tells you with a fatherly smile. “My son is going to go on a trip to one of our alliances’ kingdom, and I can’t possibly think of anyone else to escort him there safely.”

“May I ask what is the purpose of His Highness’s trip, Your Majesty?”

The king merely smiles and sighs, the tone in his voice unfathomable. “Ah, you see,” he coughs into the sleeve of his robe that’s made of the finest kind of material, struggling to keep his words firm. “I can’t stay- forever, so I figure his coronation- should take place as soon as possible. And it has also come to my attention that it’s time for him to find a queen.”

And your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your whole world suddenly turns upside down.

four.

Jisung falls flat onto his face, fists clenching as he manages to push himself up by his forearms not long after, blowing the sweaty strands of hair to prevent them from sticking to his face.

“Your Highness,” you heave, breaths coming in short as you support yourself onto your knees, your heart rate increasing by the nanosecond. “You can take a break if I’m exhausting you, there’s no need to act tough,” you almost hiss through gritted teeth, a strange glint flashing in your eyes. And then it’s gone before he can even make out what it is.

The prince laughs in amusement, cocking his head to the side. “Are you okay, Y/N? You seem a little...” he swallows thickly before continuing. “..on edge today.”

You shake your head and crane your neck tiredly, sighing when your muscles pop. “I’ve never felt better, Your Highness,” you grimace when he finally picks himself up from the ground, chest falling and rising at a consistent pace. “May I ask why you’re concerned about my current condition?”

He doesn’t respond and instead throws himself at you, fist curled into a punch. It’s inevitable, he’s too predictable at this point. You duck and drive an uppercut low into his flesh, right below his belly button. The blow stings, but he barely notices when it forces a gasp out of his lips. His body staggers backward and he falls on his back, coughing furiously on the concrete surface.

You brush some of the dust off your clothes, wiping the sweat away on your eyebrows and let out a soundless chuckle. “Your Highness, here, allow me,” you outstretch one of your hands and what happens next gives you no time to register or react properly.

Jisung grabs a fistful of dust and tosses it towards your direction when he sees how you’re offering him a hand. You immediately use your forearm as a shield to protect your eyes. And in those vulnerable moments, as you’re distracted, he sweeps a hand under your legs so that you’ll fall hard on the ground, sending more dust into the air. He easily topples himself over and braces himself on his forearms, securing you beneath his figure in a matter of seconds.

“Y/N,” he says between labored breaths, “I thought we’ve had a discussion on this topic. You are allowed to call me by my name, you officially have my consent. Why are you so damn stubborn?”

You only huff at that, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. And he thinks you look ridiculously adorable, like a child. “To inform you, we did have the discussion but I refused to address you as your name because, well, I’d rather not have my head chopped off for disrespecting the prince.” You tell him firmly, but still unable to look him dead in the eye. The image of the fearless, empowering warrior has been stripped to a bare minimum when his doe eyes map out your delicate features.

In his eyes, you’re just Y/N. The little girl who his father brought into the palace, who’s supposed to be a maid as many others but went through tough, resilient training under the general’s wing at a young age. The childhood friend who told him that sometimes, putting others’ well being before his own is something that he should know and embrace. You’re the one who spent plenty of sleepless nights by his side when he’s having difficulties with studying. He’d lean on your shoulder as you read a scroll aloud, his eyes growing heavier and heavier until he completely dozed off.

But in yours, he’s still the crown prince, the one who will have the entirety of this kingdom within the grasp of his palm someday. You’re nothing more but a lowly servant to him for the time being. At some point, you won’t be in his life anymore.

“That was years ago,” you scoff. “And also, you cheated.”

“Of course I did, a man needs to do what he has to in order to win,” Jisung claims with a bright smile, one that you haven’t seen in a fairly long time. It tickles something in the pit of your stomach and heat flares through your nostrils, sprinkling a shade of coral on the apples of your cheeks. He’s so breathtaking even when there are dirt and sweat on his features, they’re not enough to cover up his beauty.

You roll your eyes as an attempt to ignore the rouge on your cheeks, “Would you care to tell me what you’re trying to win then, Your Highness? Since you always look so determined to defeat me in person-to-person combat.”

“Your heart,” he answers with absolutely no hesitation, a spark igniting at the back of his orbs when you stare at him with wide eyes. He can see right through you without making an effort, and all you want to do is to bury yourself alive. You hate how he can make your legs weak with something as simple as a slight glance.

“Is it because of my father? What did he say?”

“He said nothing,” you look away. “I simply quit. Chan will be responsible for your safety from now on.”

“What do you mean you quit? You do realize that there’s a village full of notorious killers and thieves on the way there right?”

You reply bitterly because he’s talking to a murderer without even knowing it, “I’m not going to escort you to the alliance’s kingdom,” and your heart cracks a bit when the stars in his eyes fade away in disappointment. “I’m sorry, but I quit.”

“So are you jealous? Of my marriage?” Jisung voices sadly, and with every word, he feels as though someone is repeatedly stabbing his chest with a knife, desired to carve out his heart with their bare hands. “Is that why you’ve been acting strange this whole time? Is that why you’re avoiding me these past few days, why you refused to escort me to the alliance’s kingdom? Is that why—“

You cut him off with a cold tone, eyes threatening to water. “Your Highness, I think you and I are both mature enough to know where the line is drawn. I really hope you won't ever cross it. It’s better off this way. Soon enough, you and your future queen will be—“

Wordlessly, he inches closer and seals the gap between your lips and his. Goosebumps bubble up on the surface of your skin when he angles his face to deepen the soft kiss, warm breath brushing over your cheek constantly. You’re slow to reciprocate it but give in when his hands gently lift your head up, caressing you like you’re the most fragile thing in this world. His everything is finally wrapped around his fingers, and he’s never gonna let you go. Not in this lifetime. Not even in the next ones.

“Can’t you be my queen?”

He breaks the kiss and stares deeply into your eyes, looking for an answer behind the stoic facade that you've been keeping up for so long. Suddenly tears pool in your eyes and flow down on your cheeks, percolating through the flushed surface. His smile falters when you hold onto his robe so tightly that your knuckles start turning white.

Because of him, you’ve learned to not drown yourself in revenge and dwell on the past. Because of him, you’ve found the other missing half of yourself so that you won’t feel so isolated in this solitary world. But your love for him is more than enough to let him go.

“I can’t, and I won’t.”

“After all this time, did everything mean nothing to you? Did I mean nothing to you? Was it all just a lie? After everything we’ve gone through? Tell me that it’s not,” Jisung takes your hand in his, wiping your tears away endearingly.

“If you’re asking me have I ever seen you as something more than just the prince, then no,” You simply shake your head, “But if you’re asking me whether everything was just a lie, then I can’t answer that.”

Because a love big enough to willingly let go is the greatest love of them all.

five.

Your tired figure storms out of your respective quarters as soon as Hyunjin informs you that Jisung is urgently in need of your presence. It’s almost his bedtime and you’re utterly alarmed that someone’s intruded the palace and intended to hurt him. He is the rightful heir of the throne, after all, the person who will lead and bring the kingdom to success. It’s not surprising or the first time someone’s tried to take his life. But you’re never gonna let that happen.

“Your Highness, did something happen?” You bust through the paper-lined door abruptly with a hand already reaching for your weapon, the handle of Chan’s sword feels foreign at your touch. “Are you okay?” Concern is evident in your tone as you dart your eyes from one place to another, looking for anything suspicious. Aren’t guards supposed to barge in by now too?

But your arrival is only met with the prince waiting patiently for you at his ebony table, calmly reading one of his scrolls as if nothing’s happened. “Ah, you came,” he simply smiles at you and waves you over, signaling you to join him with whatever he’s dealing with. “Come here.”

The grip on the handle of the sword falls and your jaw almost drops to the floor. “What? I don’t understand-“

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t spend the whole day with you,” he cuts you off shyly while scratching the nape of his neck. And when you briskly walk over to his workspace, his starry eyes sparkling under the dimmed candles, taking the breath right out of your lungs. “Father wanted me to join him in conducting court affairs so I can learn a thing or two. Hence, I wasn’t able to see you at all.”

You tilt your head to the side in confusion, your brows furrowed. What is he so sorry for? “So you’re not hurt?” You grab either side of his face out of instinct, checking it in every angle possible as your eyes search for any injuries, even just something as small as a tiny scratch on the prince’s face can alert the entire palace.

Jisung shakes his head and peels your head away with ease, making direct eye contact with you. Again, you make a grave mistake by staring deeply into the cosmos in his warm orbs, floating inside his nebula softly. You don’t think the thoughts have ever occurred to you before but you truly adore his smile to the moon and back. How his cheeks bunched up, how his eyes crinkle and how it showcases his perfectly white teeth. Something stirs the inside of your chest whenever he does something as simple as grinning at you playfully during practice. And you know the reason behind that very well, you just can’t bring yourself to accept it.

“No,” he tuts with a jut of his bottom lip. “I just wanted to see you.”

You almost gawk at that, wide-eyed expression as you draw yourself back from his grasp on your hands. “You what?!” And when he just gives his shoulders a sheepish shrug, your blood is practically boiling and the heat starts rising to your cheeks. He’s absurd. Hyunjin’s absurd. All of this is absurd.

“There’s nothing wrong with you yet you still called me in at this hour?! And what for?!” You scream out your anger at the top of your lungs, deciding to drop the formalities for once when you’re already trying too hard to not...end his life, in which you’ve sworn an oath to protect it as long as your existence still grazes the surface of this planet.

How ironic.

The crown prince of Goryeo is rather childish...and irrational, a stark contrast to what you’ve been told by the elders back when you’re still living in your small hometown. They said children at your age in the palace were strictly forced into the perfect molds so that when they grew older, they would lead the country to a future as ‘perfect’ as the standards that the previous generations swore by.

The prince is full of flaws, he is flawed, to begin with. He talks too fast and throws too many nonsense tantrums after getting to know someone, he has the tenacity of a five-year-old, and he stares at his own reflection one too many times a day. But that’s what makes him who he is today, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You don’t wanna admit it, but he is perfectly imperfect.

“I already told you,” a playful grin lingers on his lips, but that only makes your face morph deeper into a frown. He’s usually not this annoying or irritating so it’s starting to get on your nerves. You just hope that you won’t end up strangling him tonight. “I wanted to see you, because I missed you,” the prince tells you in a nonchalant tone, amused by how the coral shade on your cheeks isn’t fading away.

Jisung continues with a smile, “And also because it’s your birthday.”

“Huh?”

It's what?

Your mind slowly processes the simple sentence that just escaped his lips like it’s solving a conundrum of some sort and you widen your eyes almost immediately. It is your birthday. How could you forget? It’s a shame to say that you spend days and nights mostly with Chan and the military regime, dedicating years after years of your youth to learn all of these skills as a compulsory service for the royal family so that your head is as cold as ice and your heart is as stern as a rock. You’re obligated to do anything and everything that they demand, every task must be done neatly and effectively, only so will they be satisfied. Anything and everything. And murders are no exception.

Failure? Mistakes? Not an option.

It’s twisted, to a degree, yes. But most of the murdering cases you have taken are aimed at people who truly deserve it. It feels as if you’re doing karma’s job, making them pay for what they have done, for the crimes and sins they have committed. Though that doesn’t mean you have never touched innocent people before. So such things as birthdays are unnecessary and almost annoying in your mindset.

“I have something for you,” Jisung’s soft voice brings you back to reality. And before you know it, he’s already pulled you to the very back of the courtyard by the wrist. You, him and Chan used to come here every day after your studies or practices, just lying comfortably on the grass with the iridescent moonlight beaming down at you. The three of you used to laugh here, messing around with each other as normal kids should be. Although those moments happened very rarely and hurriedly, you know that you’d never trade them for anything else.

He tells you when you both lean yourselves against the ugly tree that’s been there since forever and clasps his hands together excitedly, “Close your eyes,”

“If you’re gonna give me flowers again—“

“That was one time! One time!”

You allow your eyelids to drop nonetheless because that way, he wouldn’t know that you’re rolling your eyes at him, “And the only few things that I’m allergic to in this world are flowers.”

“Y/N, this is me trying to prove to you that I really do care about you, okay?” His words tug at your heartstrings and you flinch slightly as he places something cool into the palm of your hand. “You can take a look now.”

You open your eyes and gasp when you see the most delicate, and elegant silver hair brooch you’ve ever seen. There’s a lotus with dangling tassels on the end, minimal yet detailed jewels are embedded very carefully onto every single petal. This is so incredibly thoughtful of him, not only remembering your birthday but also taking consideration in preparing you a present. It warms your heart knowing that he’s serious with his feelings, that he isn’t just playing around like the other guys in court. “Jisung,” you breathe out as light as a feather. “This is beautiful...but I can’t take it.”

“Nonsense,” the prince shakes his head, squeezing your shoulders. “I’m quite certain you’d look pretty with it. Don’t you like it?”

“No, I- I love it,” you utter every word with clear difficulties as he stares straight into your soul. He really needs to stop before you do something you’re gonna regret. “But I’ll probably never have the chance to wear this even..” You look down at the piece of accessory in your hand and your eyes flicker upwards when he gently closes your palm shut, the silver material cool against your skin and his fingers warm over your burning flesh.

He starts to lean in, inching closer with every word, “With or without it, you’re still the prettiest in my—“

“Y/N! There you are!”

Jisung immediately clears his throat and pulls away with flaming cheeks upon the new arrival of the unwanted guest. You snap your head back at the owner of the cheerful voice to find Chan carrying your sword and waving at you with his free hand. The eye bags under his eyes seem to be less noticeable whenever he’s in a good mood. Clearly. He always shows up so timely, and it doesn’t help when you’re already so confused and conflicted with your own feelings.

“Woojin is done with my sword already?” You quickly dismiss how the prince is murmuring curse words at his friend while his eyes are surprisingly interested in the veiny and bumpy bark of the tree.

Chan nods, “Yep,” he tosses you the weapon and you quickly catch it with one hand due to natural reflex, sliding it out of the leather sheath. “He even tried to put together a little surprise.”

You’re in awe at how the blacksmith has attentively carved out your name on the blade, every detail is sharp and nicely done. And the blood from your previous...work trips has been scrubbed away completely as if the beauty of this weapon has never been tampered with. You almost feel bad for his other customers just because he always puts you over the rest with ease. “This is so sweet of him,” with a smile on your face, you slide it back into the leather cover. “Tell him that I’ll treat him something next time.”

“But it was my idea,” Chan pouts and says in a whiny tone while the prince is still sending death glares his way. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

“Yes you—“

You immediately interject, “Oh nothing! Nothing at all!” But then again, Chan’s not dumb and you’re not very good at faking things. And also, Jisung definitely doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

“I was gonna kiss her!” He pries out loud and you clasp a hand onto his mouth almost immediately, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. You hope someone accidentally pours cold water in his bath later on.

Chan sends you both a greasy smile, “Please do so,” and you hope Woojin snaps his sword in half the next time he asks for a checkup. “It’ll be quite a scene to watch. And I won’t mind at all, it should be fun to inform His Majesty about this.”

“Did you just threaten me?” You huff and cross your arms.

Jisung snorts involuntarily, “Did you just deny that you hate my kiss?”

“I hate it as much as I hate both of you.”

Chan simply chuckles at that before squishing your cheeks together, “You can curse me as you please but you’ll never hate him. You’re far too busy loving him, where’s the time to even give him a taste of your hatred?”

“Whenever my wrists are itching for a punch,” you yank his hands away and say harshly, but apparently, he isn’t intimidated by it at all. “Or when he’s practicing with me, just like the other day when I—“

“Alright alright, that’s not me!”

“It is you, Your Highness, I know what a little girl sounds like.”

Instead of continuing with this brainless banter, Chan decides to pull the both of you into a tight headlock, and lungs-crushing embrace, “Now now, you two, come here. Hugs make everything better,” he claims with a dimpled smile, which is responded with an eye roll from the prince and a small giggle from you.

“It still doesn’t change the fact that we both hate you,” the prince mumbles.

You can’t possibly imagine your life without these two by your side.

six.

In the serenade of the black velvet sky lies a choir of stars, singing in the infinite pattern to soothe the humans’ souls. As strange as it sounds, the eyes are in need of music every now and then too. Especially when all Chan witnesses on a daily basis consists of casualties and guards yelling at some random villagers on the streets. The job’s tedious, he thinks, how guards think they can step on others so easily when they’re merely just parasites living off the royal family’s trust and ignorance.

You hold back the urge to spit in the guard’s face, “Don’t touch me.” He quickly backs off, cowering behind everyone else until Chan dismisses them with a wave of his hand, boredom laced in his brown eyes. And coldly, “What?” You almost kick yourself for sounding more nervous than you’ve intended to.

“You know,” Chan keeps his back against you, speaking softly. “I thought it was strange for some thief to rescue the slaves that are being traded in the black market. And how that single thief managed to take down our guards too. Something just feels...off,” he fondly peeks over his shoulders with a dimpled smile. “I should have known that it’s you.”

The slight amusement in his tone makes your heart flinch in a split second. Even the moon looks like it’s judging you, its delicate light illuminating the land beneath, watching over mundane mortals like you every night. Such dominance and fluorescence can’t be hidden even by the dull, creeping clouds floating endlessly on the starless sky. Right now, it feels like the eye of the Devil is piercing right through your soul, a damned being.

Chan turns around when you don’t respond, exhaling a sigh with a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know that you’re upset-“

“I’m not upset!” You unknowingly snap at him, chest heaving up and down when anger flares through your nostrils. But you’re quick to be taken aback by your own action. “I’m sorry, I- I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, it’s just-“

Chan muffles your words by pulling you into a tight, brotherly hug. One that makes you want to strip off the facade you’ve been keeping up with for so long and just let your tears flow down on your cheeks until your heart stops aching. He always knows what’s inside your head and never fails to think in your shoes. “There there,” he pats your head as an attempt to comfort you. “Hugs make everything better, right?”

You mumble into the crook of his neck, “What are you talking about?”

“I know that you like Jisung,” you widen your eyes at that, a bitter taste rising in your throat. “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

“Don’t- don’t do that,” you clutch onto his robe, your bruised knuckles turning white. “Don’t give me false hope when I’m already unsure about my own feelings.”

Chan rocks you back and forth, followed by a deep exhale. He hates how your eyebags have become more permanent in the past few days, how lifeless you look during practice and how you’ve been sneaking out every night just to distract yourself from the harsh reality. “I don’t know about you, Y/N, but if I’m not mistaken here, then I can reassure you that he’s in love with you as much as you are with him.”

Regardless of what Chan said, you’ve already had something else on your mind.

You dash towards the west wing as soon as Chan breaks the hug, all that echoing in your head are the sounds of your shoes tapping against the concrete ground and blood roaring in your ears. What’s the point of falling in love with when you’ve already broken the promise you made years ago in front of your parents’ graves? You hate him. You hate them. All of them. Those who took you away from your own home and tossed you into their life as if you’re a rag doll for sale, like a product that can be traded with materialistic values. It disgusts you to the bones knowing that they’re the same people who raised you, who taught you how to fight, but they also taught you how to love and not judge a book by its cover.

The love you have for Jisung isn’t supposed to exist in the first place yet the universe tugged the wrong string and now you’re tangled in this intoxicating mess. You wish you could just drive your sword straight into his heart and run away from the palace, from Chan, from him, from everything. But the bond you’ve accidentally created in the long run is now backfiring on your conscience, it disheartens you knowing that you’ll never have a happy ending.

But if having your heart shattered into a million pieces means he will live happily ever after, then so be it.

seven.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

“Let him be.”

Chan abruptly stops the servant from following the crown prince, who’s taking long, hurried strides out of his private courtyard. The gaze in his eyes darkens and sadness glinting in his once warm brown orbs. Gods and fate aren’t very righteous and fair after all. They just love to meddle with the mortals’ feeling as if they’re nothing but mere puppets, created with the purpose to entertain their boring life. But one wrong tug and everything can fall apart, utterly demolished.

Rain soon comes pouring down on Goryeo, completely oblivious about the life that it’s giving. Whether in warmth or coldness, sunlight or moonlight, rain’s humble with its role. It washes away the soil on the freshly cut grass, on the beautiful rows of flowers in the garden. If only it could wash away the imminent agony in his chest cavity. Each drop sounds like music to the prince’s ears as he feels like he’s taking a trip down memory lane, recalling the day that he met you.

Jisung will never forget the moment he realized that he loved you.

You looked about his age, still innocent, almost childish, but with bloodshot eyes from crying and bruised knuckles from trying to wrestle yourself out of the guards’ grip. With a white scarf around your neck, he could barely make out the bottom half of your face but he was convinced, no, he knew that you’re gonna be the most beautiful person he’d meet in the entire kingdom. Far more beautiful than any of the girls he’s ever encountered in the palace.

And you’re the only person who makes him feel genuinely wanted and loved for who he really is, not just the crown prince of Goryeo. Years after years living side by side, you never really pushed him away even when you’re giving him nothing but what seemed like a look of distaste. And slowly that raw connection grew into something much more meaningful and profound.

Deep down, he knows that he’ll always love you like it’s the beginning because since day one, since your very first encounter, he has already fallen all in for you. He fell in love with every single inch of you, even the parts that you’re utterly terrified of. He loves the way you talk with your chin high up, eyes full of pride and confidence. Outsiders would call him crazy for falling for someone who’s not ‘qualified’ enough but none of the women in his circle has yet to make his heart flutter.

But when he started to love you, he realized he’s never loved anyone this way before. He wants to grow old with you, even if that means he can never have the same luxurious life again. Nothing matters when happiness is dangling at the tips of his fingers and he’s never gonna let it go. He’s never gonna let you go.

And maybe, you might feel the same way after all this time.

“Y/N!” Jisung calls out to you when he sees your hooded figure at the east gate, which will lead you straight out of the palace as long as you strictly follow the pathway. You snap your head back and meet his eyes. Yes, he can still perfectly make out your brilliant features in this cracked darkness.

You pull your hood down and your silky hair blows delicately in the wind, your eyes sparkling under the radiant moonlight. You’re still as beautiful as ever, even when there’s evident pain in your surprised expression. “What- What are you doing here?” Your eyes grow twice their previous size, your mouth agape. “Your Highness, aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Your Highness,” you reply bitterly. “Please head back and get some rest. You have to leave early in the morning tomorrow.”

He quickly brushes your words off, “Why would you risk your life out there like that? So easily? So carelessly?”

“I’m fully capable and everything was under control, so I don’t see what’s the problem here.”

“What’s the problem here?” Jisung lets out a humorless laugh, and now you’re starting to think that he’s just messing with you for the hell of it. “It’s not wrong that you put others before yourself but have you ever thought about yourself? Have you ever thought about me? Do you-“ his voice trembles, with every word, he takes another step towards you. “Do you know how scared I was? Do you know how important you are to me?”

Your heart is caught in your throat, thumping vigorously right there, drowning out the sound of the rain and your own breathing. “But you’re more important to me,” you confess with teary eyes, heart immediately dropping to the pit of your stomach. “I’m terrified of losing you but more terrified that you’ll never be happy because of me. So please, stop making it harder for me-“

Your words linger on the tip of your tongue when he embraces you, the warmth of his hands and the coldness of his damp robe sending chills down your spine. Jisung holds onto you so tightly, refusing to ever let you slip out of his arms. And you hold onto him like it’s the last time, relaxing your muscles into the moment. His hands on the small of your back burn like fire and his love for you prickles your heart. Yet you’re willing to throw yourself at the burning forest of thorns because you know that you’re the happiest when you’re with him.

“I’ve always imagined myself being happy,” A smile blooms on his lips. “And it’s with you.”

But your mind tells you otherwise as much as you want to run away with him. You can’t have the kingdom on the verge of falling because of the new king’s sudden absence on the throne. Moreover, you’re bound to your own hatred and duties, you can never be the reason for him to simply throw everything away.

“A wise king will always put the people’s needs before his own, Your Highness,” And his smile falls, your words tugging at his heartstrings. “You should head back now, it’s getting late. Do allow me to escort you there.”

Jisung doesn’t reject it because he’s afraid that this might be the last time he’ll ever meet you.

eight.

Night falls fast upon Goryeo. No more than an hour ago was the sky painted with beautiful hues of red, orange and pink when Chan came back to the palace with a deep wound on his shoulder blade. Now there’s nothing left but a matte black canvas without stars to be looked upon. Other than the everlasting darkness, you and your trusty horse, all that seems to exist is the chilly wind with the uneasy feeling twisting in your stomach.

You’ve underestimated the cold of the night when a breeze passes by you and your heart shudders. You can’t tell whether it’s because of the chilling touch or something else, the only thing on your mind right now is the crown prince. Even if losing him to someone else forever means saving his life, you won’t dare to protest twice.

It’s a battlefield that can’t quite appear as anything else; the clangor of weapons has died down, the shouting of the slaughters and victims have been hushed, an eerie silence lays on the crimson-colored ground, where the dead soldiers lay in heaps.

The moon finally reveals itself once you hop off your horse, red marks evident across your palms from clutching onto its reigns for so long. Under the blindingly silver light are broken blades glitter along with the soiled, bloodied armors that you can recognize without effort. The once harmless village is now void and eerie like a graveyard for the unburied. These men have sacrificed their lives for someone you should have protected with your own. Life moves on so easily but somewhere, their fathers, mothers, their brothers, sisters or even children are waiting in vain.

And it’s all your fault.

Silent sobs form inside your throat as you bite them down, your legs growing weak at the sight of the dead crown prince, his eyes as immobile as his limbs, blood oozing from the fresh wound on his stomach while his helmet is abandoned next to his body, snapped in half, utterly useless.

Leaves rustling softly. Wisps of air whispering against your eardrums. The moon silent as if it’s mourning for him.

You hug his limp body close as tears stream down on your cheeks, your skin cool against the night breeze. Your heart aches with every heavy breath that you take, every cell inside your body is shuddering, accepting defeat in the thick darkness. You’re losing the man you love because of your own inconsideration and stubbornness.

“You came,” Jisung rasps out, dehydration straining his vocal cords as he can feel his body getting weaker by the second. “You really came..”

You force a smile to mirror his expression, “Of course I’d come, I swore to protect you with my whole life, didn’t I?”

He touches your cheek delicately as if you’re the most fragile thing in this world, but also to prove to himself that he’s not dreaming. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Jisung.”

“Why not?”

“Because I ended up loving you,” you say. “Even when I promised myself that I would never fall for someone like you.”

Jisung nods and his hand feels cold against your cheek, mustering every strand of willpower left to stretch out one moment into a thousand, just so he can embed every detail of you into the deepest parts of his heart and soul. “It shouldn’t hurt us like this, it shouldn’t be this painful.” He manages to whisper. “But it is what it is.”

He’s not ready to let you go, but he doesn’t have a second choice. No one ever does. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jisung smiles at you one more time and takes his last breath, allowing death to engulf him wholly.

“Jisung,” you choke out, caressing his face when his hand falls from your cheek. Like a fool, you’re still holding onto that slim ray of false hope with the wish of him waking up again and smiling at you. “Didn’t you say that whatever I do, where I go, you’ll always come back to me? Huh? So why can’t you?”

As the warmth slips away from his body, you cry out aloud, almost desperate for the gods above to hear you. You can hear your own sounds, raw from the inside like a distressed child, “I love you, please just wake up,” you sob. “I won’t run away, I’m never gonna leave you again. I’m right here! So why can’t you just wake up? Why?!” There’s no word to describe the grief-stricken feeling that’s panging repeatedly on your chest. It tears you apart, piece by piece until you’re left with nothing but the broken shards, having no choice to carry them with you like an unwanted scar for the rest of your life.

“I will be your queen! If that’s what it takes for you to just look at me again,” you tell him with a prolonged sigh, shivers running down your spine before it goes numb. You rock Jisung back and forth, gazing grievously at the empty space ahead with bloodshot eyes, streaks of tears drying on your cheeks like a madwoman. “Come back to me, please, I need you, more than anything in this world. Please..”

“Please, stay with me..”

You ignore the pool of tears in your eyes and try to study his features; from his doe eyes, his button nose, and his prominent philtrum. You’ve always stared at and admired him like it’s your first encounter but this time, it’s probably the last. Because no stars are present to grant a wish upon you anymore.

Those slaughters owe their lives to him and you’re going to make sure that they all learn their lessons before karma can even get a good grip on their necks. Every single one of them. It’s ironic how you used to be one of them, ignorant and oblivious about what really happens inside the palace. There’s more than just being wrapped in the finest materials of clothing and stepping on the lower class. Jisung taught you to open your point of view so that you won’t be stuck inside your own box of misery and anguish forever.

“Jisung…” your eyes sting, your tongue tastes sour and the sound of his name is embittered to your ears. “I’ll keep you in my heart for eternities, and watch you from afar.”

You reach for the sword on his waistline, gripping on the handle so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You’ve failed yourself for not accepting your true feelings and now the consequences are irremediable. If he doesn’t haunt you in the next lifetime, the title of a traitor will until your conscience tears you apart.

“Until we meet again,” you swallow your tears bitterly. “Time will show you how much I love you.”

You shake your head profusely to prevent your eyes from watering again when you realize how Jisung walked into your chaos and never left. He loved you at your darkest, broke down your walls and let the lights in. Whenever he looked at you, the world just stopped; all noises and beings were canceled out, nothing else mattered. The world just stopped, it’s a beautiful place because there was him.

Jisung loved you unconditionally, and you don’t think that will ever change.

If only you repricocated his feelings.

epilogue.

Time begins to dissolve into itself, and as far as it’s concerned, people will come then unfairly go. Regardless of this haunted, friendless world, time will never stop.

So will you.

Because one century after another, wandering from places to places, even when your hands are stained with blood belongs to who you can’t be bothered to remember, even when tears blur your vision and sting your eyes, even when your mortal body ages into nothing but utter rot, your heart still longs for Jisung every single day.

The future was always something you ought to worry about, let it be your young mind or the lack of wisdom along with experience, you used to feel an uneasy knot inside your stomach every night, not getting a single wink of sleep. You gave plenty of thoughts in how your entire life is mercilessly confined into a fragile speck of timeline. You didn’t feel like you had much time, every second, every minute, every hour was seemingly slipping through your fingers like sand, disintegrating into the ground like the fallen raindrops, vanishing like a mirage across the desert. But now, you’re having all the time everyone could yearn for in the world. You’re forbidden to look back, for time will end you and all your effort will go to waste.

You broke your promise that day with your parents but you’ve protected the oath of keeping Jisung in your heart and watching him from afar.

And you have no regrets. You chuckle to yourself as you kick a pebble on the sidewalk.

It’s absolutely glorious in its own inception, with joints of the grey stones so precisely situated that they’re almost invisible. There’s music on the streets, a melody of chaos being born throughout time, a tempo so buzzing and unique that makes it seem like you’ll never keep up. But that’s what connects the world together, every being united as one with a universal soul. People pushing and shoving each other are almost nothing but phantoms to you, utterly meaningless. You feel like an outcast, but you’re no stranger to the moon or the stars above.

With the white scarf covering the bottom half of your face, you cross your arms and sigh deeply when your back leans against the wall of an old building. You can tell that it was an apartment complex before, but a team from the authorities is in the process of demolishing it. The paint is chipping, cracks are evident as a result of the previous summer heat. You’ve seen walls like this plenty of times before in movies, but this particular one stirs something inside your stomach because the building seems like it’s in need of love and its time here is up. It makes you wonder, how much time do you have left?

A lot has changed, and so did you. Nothing will ever be the same again but you’re still here for a reason. A purpose. A recognition.

The sun’s setting as clouds give of their rain to the grass and trees when the scenery before you becomes more alive than ever. Droplets of rain race each other with their own thrilling ride to the earthly surface, creating a soothing harmony from one of Mother Nature’s songs, drowning out the entire world. You can feel each splash warm against your skin, and you watch in amusement when your cardigan turns into a darker shade of blue.

You close your eyes and see Jisung, just like how you do every night. A day shall not pass unless you think, or dream about him. You see him sitting next to you before the lake, gazing at the stars with your head on his shoulder. You see him stuffing his cheeks with too much food to the point that he looks like a squirrel whenever you’re eating out by yourself. And you see him by your bedside, brushing your hair out of your face and humming the sweetest melodies to you before sleep draws a hand over your eyes.

But this time, it’s your very first encounter.

Him speculating the tiniest detail of a droplet of rain like it’s the most wondrous thing he’s ever seen. And you stared at the curious prince dejectedly, mentally scoffing at the odd demeanor for a member of the royal bloodline. You can recall every single detail vividly, it still feels like yesterday when he told you it’s okay to cry, and that he’d always protect you. You wanted to take him by the hand and lead him away. On that very same day, you let his voice soak in, his words and the way his arms held your sobbing form, refusing to ever pull away.

“I just feel like I have to, and I know in my heart, that it’s right.”

Sometimes the one thing we’ve been looking for our whole life feels so out of reach, but it turns out to be right in front of our eyes all this time.

You slowly open your eyes and a silent tear rolls down on your cheek. Although blurred from the pool of salty liquid, they didn’t miss how a glimpse of a familiar figure is pushing themselves through the ground with clear difficulties. On the other side of the street, stands a boy with doe eyes, cute button nose, and sharp Cupid’s bow. He’s struggling to hold all the heavy pieces of filming equipment by himself under the rain while his friends are waving him over from a nearby van.

Despite the frantic expression on his face, you’re more than certain that after all these years, you’ve found him. Both of your worlds seem to collide once again when his eyes flutter upwards from underneath his wet fringe and meet yours, golden specks floating softly in his orbs. His features are glowing under the limited source of light, the wind caressing his now short hair softly.

Happiness makes your chest swell along with thousands of different emotions that you’ve been holding in for almost a hundred decades now bloom like a beautiful field of flowers. You haven’t felt this way in the longest time, and your lips can’t help but crack into a smile. He’s finally living a good life again. What a relief.

Someone yells aloud from inside the vehicle, “Jisung, you’re gonna get them all wet!”

“Coming!”

His eyes flit away just as fast as when they held yours, his hood being thrown over his head lazily. Almost coldly.

He didn’t smile back.

❖ a/n : if you’ve made it to the end of this fic, thank you so much! It really means a lot to me since my confidence has been shaken up a little. I hope you all enjoyed my attempt at smth different rather than domestic au (or at least I tried) stay happy + healthy always!

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stayshub #skzwritersclub #stray kids au #jisung x reader #han fic #stray kids fanfic #dynasty au #han jisung fluff #han jisung angst #skz jisung #lee minho #bang chan

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avis-writeshq · 4 years

Text

Akaashi Keiji x Reader - 青いバラ (Blue Rose)

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

Summary: Blue rose - a flower of the genus Rosa that presents blue-to-violet pigmentation instead of the common red, white, or yellow. Blue roses are often used to symbolise secret or unattainable love.

Warnings: VAST MENTIONS OF DEATH, mentions of blood, slow burn, ANGST, fluff if you look carefully, and 9k words of me procrastinating and trying very hard to keep the fic alive. ALSO HANAHAKI DISEASE AU BC I’M ADDICTED :D

Other: Yo, sorry for dying on you giuys for like, a while. School started up again this week but it was online and I was procrastinating on legit eVerYtHiNg oop so, anyway, hugs and kisses, hope you enjoy this fic because I am so freaking in love with Akaashi it isn’t funny anymore.

Ngl, this fic took like 2+ weeks to complete, and my editor can attest to that :’) Hope you guys enjoy and don’t let this flop. Your requests are coming out soon so thank you for your support! Also I need a nice anon fam to keep nmme happy and occupied during quarantine :)

Word count: 9.1k

Editor: @creative-hours-open

Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

(Y/N): Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

***

You don’t remember when these feelings came to be. You don’t remember when you first felt your heart skip a beat whenever he walked past you. You don’t remember the first time you started replaying all your conversations with him in your head when it was 3 am and your brain wouldn’t shut up. You don’t remember the first time you blushed when he sent you a soft smile after you stared for a second too long. No, you don’t remember those things; but you do remember the first time a small blue rose petal appeared in your hand after you coughed too hard.

Hanahaki Disease: Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 ) is a disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

For months you lived with this disease not even your parents knew. How could they? After all, they were each other’s first love – their love wasn’t one-sided and besides, you didn’t want to worry them; you can get through this yourself.

Right?

You leaned over the bucket, velvet-soft petals tickling your throat before pouring into the overflowing bucket. Tears prickled the sides of your eyes, threatening to spill just like the petals that scattered to the ground.

God, does this ever stop? You coughed again, gasping for air as you sat on your knees on the cold tile floor. Shit, what time was it? You have school today! Coughing one last petal out, you emptied the bucket into a plastic bag and threw it to the side, grabbing your school bag and rushing out the house.

You couldn’t be late… the bus leaves and waits for nobody. You ran as fast as you could to the bus stop, stopping only to get oxygen back into your system. You still had the wind knocked out of you from spewing rose petals all over the bathroom, but you made it just in time.

The bus was basically full with the only seat that was empty being…

Shit.

You genuinely thought of flinging yourself out of the bus or just standing, but that wasn’t an option.

“Hey, sit down, will ya? I can’t move if you don’t,” the bus driver grunted as you flinched.

“S-sorry, sir…” you mumbled, holding your breath when you sat in the only seat available.

Clutching the bag in your lap tightly, you tried your best to ignore the awkward presence next to you. You went to the same school as him! You shouldn’t be feeling this uneasy…

“Ah, (L/N) (Y/N), right?”

Fuck.

You raise your eyes to meet his eyes. “Yes…? You’re Akaashi Keiji.”

He nodded, giving you a once over before finally saying, “Did you go to the flower shop beforehand?”

“No…?”

“You have a flower on your shirt,” he explained. “Well, a petal.”

Your eyes widened and you looked down at the collar of your shirt. Lo and behold, a bright blue petal was tucked away, but you can see most of it poking out. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Oh… ha ha… thank you?”

He nodded. “It’s fine…” He was quiet for a moment before murmuring, “blue looks good on you.”

***

Why did he have to be in the same class as you? Every single time he was near you, the flower in your lungs thought that it would be a wonderful time to bloom. Right after the bus stop, for example, you coughed your lungs out into a janitor’s basket before forcing your way to class.

Biology, the first class of the day and he was a foot away from you. Did the gods have something against you? Twenty minutes into the class, you felt yourself on the verge of another coughing fit.

You raised your hand meekly, and the teacher looked at you, an eyebrow raised in mockery. Your other hand was covering your mouth as you forced the bright blue rose petals down but you couldn’t. You let out a cough, a few petals falling into your hand. Begrudgingly, the teacher lets you go to the bathroom, and you run out the door frantically.

‘How pathetic,’ you thought to yourself as you coughed out more petals. The roots were getting deeper, you can tell. You cough harshly once more, and a small rose bud falls onto the tiled bathroom floors. ‘Get over yourself. He won’t look at you twice.’

But you knew that. You knew that more than the next person. So why… Why couldn’t you get over him? Each cough hurt more than the last, and the toilet was full of small blue petals. Some had small splotches of blood on them, and you could smell the metallic scent of the blood overtaking the soft scent of roses and tears. You wiped your tears with the cuffs of your school blazer. No more, you willed yourself, stepping out of the cubicle.

Splashing cold water on your face, you let out a breath as you stared at yourself in the mirror. When did you stoop so low? Your eyes were blotched with tears and your cheeks were hollow from not eating. This was just too much. You clenched your eyes closed, tears rolling onto your cheeks as you did. You shook your head; time to get back to class.

***

“Hey, are you okay?” Aneko asked gently as you nibbled on your lunch.

You mustered a smile to please her. “I’m okay.”

“You had a coughing fit this morning; I don’t think you’re okay.” She gave you a disapproving look and you couldn’t help but flinch under her scrutinising gaze.

“It’s just a cough. It’ll pass.”

You can tell she doesn’t believe you, but your silence finishes off the conversation. Well, it should, anyway.

“(L/N)-san, are you feeling alright?” A voice asks from above you, and you felt your heart drop.

“Akaashi-san. Yes, I’m okay, thank you.” You don’t look at him, eyes drawn to the bento in front of you as you fought the soft blush on your cheeks.

“If you keep coughing, the nurse should be able to give you some medicine,” he says gently, his eyes looking at you from above.

Your eyes flickered to his for a second. “I don’t think there’s a medicine that can help me.”

He opened his mouth to respond but is pulled away by a loud and boisterous third year. “AKAASHIII!!!”

“They need you,” you said, closing your bento. “I have to go. Let’s go, Aneko. Thank you for your concern, but I really should get going.”

“But-”

“AKAASHIII!”

He sent you one last look before running after his friend. You just stayed silent, clenching your fists in your lap as Aneko shot you a confused look.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Akaashi,” she remarked, frowning at you. “What happened?”

“Aneko,” you murmured, tears prickling your eyes, “do you know of the Hanahaki disease?”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me…”

You just sent her a wry smile before running to the bathroom.

***

Another disastrous day. The bus was relatively empty on the way home, probably because some of the boys had afterschool volleyball training. Pulling your phone out of your blazer pocket, you opened up Google.

‘Is there a way to get rid of the Hanahaki Disease?’

Multiple sites came up; some were even websites of hospitals that claimed to get rid of the disease.

You pressed on a tab that seemed to answer your question.

‘Surgery can help, but I had a friend who was unable to feel affection after the surgery.’

‘You should confess first!’

‘The medical bills are really expensive, but it’s worth it.’

‘Would you rather suffocate from flower petals or lose the ability to love? My sister did it and she regrets it all.’

‘There’s a guy who does it in India for cheap.’

‘The cheapest is 150,000 yen. Good luck.’

You groaned, closing the tab and leaned back in your chair. Could this day get any worse? How were you supposed to get 150,000 yen, anyway? Even if you could afford the surgery, there was no way your parents would even allow you to take it. Hugging your bag closer to your chest, you let out a sigh. The only way to get rid of these emotions was to either have the person love you back, get over him, or surgery. There was, of course, the prospect of drowning yourself in bleach, but you didn’t think that your friends and family would agree to such ‘extreme’ methods.

‘Dammit, Akaashi, you’re giving me problems when I need it the least,’ you thought to yourself, as you stepped out of the bus. How long does it take for this disease to kill you, anyway?

The answer was six months. According to your research, you have had the Hanahaki Disease for a minimum of four months, so you were basically on the verge of death. In other words, you had 2 months to either take the surgery, get him to fall in love with you, or die. The options didn’t seem too promising.

Your parents weren’t home today, as usual. A note was waiting for you on the kitchen bench and you suppressed a sigh.

‘Dinner is in the microwave. Don’t skip your dinner.

~ Love, Dad’

You skipped dinner anyway.

***

School counsellors were really… different. They’re not teachers, but they teach you valuable ‘life lessons’ when you really need it. They’re not nurses but they take care of you when you’re hurt. Well, they take care of you when you’re hurt mentally.

According to a lot of other students, the counsellor at Fukurodani could either be your best friend or sworn enemy. But at this point, you were desperate. You really needed advice and you couldn’t just ask your friends. No, that wouldn’t work out. After all, they were as insane as you.

“Tell me whatever you need to tell me,” she said with a gentle smile as you looked around the room that enclosed you.

The room was really… childish? Ladybug wall stickers decorated the walls topped with a huge cat poster plastered by the door. And still you questioned yourself, God, what were you supposed to say?

You had it rehearsed in your mind, ‘I have the Hanahaki Disease,’ but when it was your turn to talk, your tongue was glued to the roof of your mouth.

The woman across from you, bless her, just sat there with a patient nod. She handed you a pen and paper.

“Can you write it for me?” She asks as she puts her glasses on.

You did as you were told.

You watched as she read over your scrawl and her jaw dropped. It just… dropped. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but her jaw dropped as she gaped at you, glasses askew.

“The Hanahaki Disease… are you sure?”

You raised an eyebrow as if to ask, ‘I have rose petals coming out of my mouth and you think I’m not sure?’

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “You know, that is very dangerous. Have you consulted a doctor? Have you told your parents?”

“I don’t want to worry anyone,” you mumbled, “my parents aren’t home a lot so they wouldn’t have time to take me to the doctors, and the surgery is pretty-”

“You’re considering the surgery?” She cut you off, mouth open and surprised but there was more to that; she was… concerned.

You grimaced. “What else can I do?”

She raised an unamused eyebrow but a ghost of a smile spread on her face. “You can try telling him?”

The thought alone made you feel sick. “I don’t think I can. He obviously doesn’t like me that way.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” She prompted, taking out a notepad to write in before nodding at you to continue.

“We only had one decent conversation and that was about English homework. We’ve only talked once outside of school and…” you fell silent, averting your gaze. “Why would he like me, anyway? He has volleyball to put up with, and his grades are perfect. He doesn’t need a love interest entering his life.”

The counsellor sighed, looking you dead in the eye. “The most important thing for a relationship to bloom is communication. If you can’t hold a conversation now, how is that supposed to help you in the future?”

You hated it when important people had a point. “It gets worse when I’m near him.”

“Just imagine you’re talking to a friend,” she said kindly, before proceeding to ask more questions.

***

You stepped into the class halfway through your fourth period. All heads turn to you as you lowered your head in embarrassment. Meekly passing the teacher a late slip, you took your seat behind Akaashi Keiji.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything when class ended and everyone packed up to get ready for their next class. However, the first move had already been made.

“Akaashi was asking about you,” Aneko said as you grabbed more books out of your locker.

Your eyes widened, flickering to hers for a split second. “What did he say?”

“He wanted to know if you were alright. I was getting worried too, y’know; you were in the counsellor’s office for a lot longer than I expected.”

“She wouldn’t stop talking,” you said in a half-hearted explanation. You didn’t want to go into the details.

“(L/N)-san, you went to the counsellor’s office?”

You wanted to shrivel up and die. You didn’t prepare for this! What were you supposed to say now?

Letting out a small breath, you turned around to face him. “Yeah, but I’m okay.”

“Is your cough getting any better?” He asked gently, peering down at you with concern.

“Yeah, I’m getting better,” you lied, praying for the little flower growing in your lungs to disappear in this short moment.

He nodded, “I’m glad. Ah, and I photocopied my notes from the previous classes. They should cover the lessons.”

You swallowed thickly, fighting the heat that clouded your cheeks.

You stuttered out a timid response. “Thank you…”

He sent you a small smile before taking his seat. You felt sick all over again and coughed out some more petals. Aneko’s eyes watched you with concern as you faked a smile.

“I’m okay. I don’t need to go to the bathroom for this,” you said, hoping to calm her nerves.

“I’m taking you to the doctor’s after this, got it? Screw your parents, you need some medical advice,” she deadpanned, her tangerine eyes staring into yours and you can’t help the sigh that escaped your lips.

“We’ll talk more after class,” you promised before sitting down and going over the notes Akaashi made for you. Your heart hammered in your chest as you read his kanji. Unsurprisingly, it was neat. But then again, what were you expecting from Akaashi Keiji? He seemed to be the type to take everything quite seriously.

Ten minutes pass. Then twenty… thirty minutes later and you wonder to yourself, I didn’t cough once?

***

“How long did you say you had this disease for?” The doctor asked.

“According to Google, around four months,” you answer, fiddling with your fingers.

“Any particular reason you didn’t come with your parents?”

“They had work.”

Aneko hummed to confirm your statement. “She’s alone for most of the time. That’s why I am here to help!”

“Right…” the doctor eyed her before turning back to you. “Have you talked to him?”

“Why do people keep asking me that?” You mutter to yourself, digging your nails into the palms of your hands.

The doctor let out an exasperated sigh. “Unless you can earn yourself an ungodly amount of money, the only thing you can do is hope to earn his affections. That or the flowers in your lungs will kill you.”

You knew that. The words seemed to fall on deaf ears because, hell, you knew that better than anyone in the room. Were you the only one with this disease? Everyone you talked to, everyone you confided in… they never seemed to have this disease. Your parents were in love with each other as soon as they met. The school counsellor has never been in love with anyone before. Aneko and her boyfriend have known each other since they were kids and fell in love relatively quickly while this doctor makes the Hanahaki Disease sound so simple. As if it was nothing more than just a small phase or bump in one’s life.

Bull shit.

You didn’t want this disease any more than the next person. Why? Because the disease hurt; it hurt a lot. The worst thing about it was the fact that there was no actual cure. The disease itself was kill or be killed; kill your feelings, or kill yourself. There was not an actual cure. Scientists didn’t know how the flower itself blossomed in one’s lungs. They didn’t know how to cure it.

The worst part? The Hanahaki Disease claimed the lives of more people than traffic accidents and suicide combined. People weren’t necessarily scared of the disease. They were just… uneasy and you understood why.

One thing was for certain though; the Hanahaki Disease was based on genetics. So somewhere along the line, one of your family members was affected by this particular disease. Of course, your parents probably never even thought about the possibility, so they probably didn’t test if you had the gene.

Man, you really hated your parents sometimes.

You left the doctor’s office silently, eyes downcast. Your knees trembled from below you and you felt as if you could collapse any minute now.

“Aneko,” you murmured, stilling yourself and looking at her. “I didn’t cough when he was there.”

She frowns, “What do you mean?”

“When Akaashi was next to me, I didn’t cough a single petal. Not even once did I cough. I only did when class ended.” You showed her a weak smile before continuing. “It probably doesn’t mean anything though, does it?”

“This is why you need to talk to him,” she said before stepping in front of you with her hands on her hips. “You’re dying, (Y/N). That isn’t something you should be taking lightly.”

“I know,” you whispered, avoiding her eyes. “It’s not that easy you know. He has things to do and… he doesn’t need this right now.”

She nodded, continuing to walk down the street. “I’m a pretty shitty friend, huh?”

Your eyes widened, and you gape at her.

Quickening your pace to catch up to her, you glared. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know how you’re feeling right now. I’ve never been in your situation and I… what am I supposed to say to you?” Her voice is rising and you noticed that she had stopped walking altogether. “You’re always the one taking the shots and helping me. You’re the one who introduced me to Eito. You’re the one who stays up late to help me with the assignments I put off. You’re the one helping everyone with their problems. You’re always giving, (Y/N), you’re always the one who puts others in front of yourself!”

Tears leaked out the sides of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. You opened your mouth to say something but she cuts you off.

“This is the one time you’re meant to be selfish. This is the one time you’re supposed to put yourself first. All you do is give! People –” she choked on her tears before saying – “people envy you, you know? I envy you! You’re usually so happy… you’re so willing to help others, even if they’ve done you so much wrong!”

She wiped her tears with her arms, but they kept coming. “This – this is the one time you need help with something and I can’t even do anything!”

She’s crying harder and all you can do is watch on. Fat tears dropped to the cemented ground as she wails louder. “Be selfish for once, (Y/N)! Please… I can’t lose you!”

You’re crying now, too, but you don’t realise it until you taste the salty tears from the corner of your mouth. They spilled silently as you watch Aneko, your best friend, sob into the sleeves of her jumper .

If anyone was around, they would think that you were weirdos. Two random teenage girls crying their eyes out in the middle of the street wasn’t a natural occurrence.

You wipe your tears away with the back of your hand and offer her the most realistic smile you could muster. “Let’s head home, okay? We can binge that sports anime you’ve been meaning to watch.”

She sniffs, the last of her tears splashing to the floor. “Okay.”

***

You’re both late to school the next morning but you don’t really care. Aneko leaves at 5am to sneak into her house that was two blocks away from yours. You’re racing to gather your things so that you can do your homework in the bus.

After puking out another bucketful of rose petals in the bathroom, you’re bolting out the door to catch the bus. There were more places to sit now, and if this was any other circumstance, you would have sat as far away from Akaashi as you could.

‘TALK TO HIM!’ You order yourself and you do before you could change your mind.

You pulled out your geography homework. From the corner of your eye, you note how Akaashi’s eyes do an onceover of your work. Trying to block him out, you began to answer the questions.

What metropolitan area is the largest in the world not bordering a body of water?

What the heck? You blanched at the question. You don’t remember this being in the textbook! You screamed internally, and you have half a mind to pull out your phone to do some research.

“The answer is Johannesburg, South America,” a voice from beside you says helpfully.

You look up, your eyes are met with gentle navy eyes. Your cheeks burn as you look away. How is it possible to have such pretty eyes?

“Oh… thanks,” you mumble, and you let out a breath. “Hey, Akaashi?”

His eyes widen and he clears his throat. “Yes? Is everything okay?”

“Uh… thank you again for photocopying your notes! It was really nice of you! I would’ve gotten them from Aneko, but her handwriting is… questionable,” you laughed lightly, easing yourself into the conversation. “Thanks for caring, is all I’m trying to say.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto his face and he looks at you with sincerity. “I’ll always care, you know?”

“Wait, really?” You blink twice at him, confusion swirling in your chest.

He nodded at you, looking out the window. “I care more than you think.”

***

The conversation replayed in your head over and over again, and you can’t help but stare dreamily out the window. When lunch began, Aneko snapped her fingers in your face, bringing you out of your daze. You flush, looking up at her as she grinned down at you.

“So… what happened with Lover Boy over there?”

“Nothing,” you wave her off, trying to ignore the blood that rushed to your cheeks. “We just… talked.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at you teasingly. “So are you guys, like, together yet?”

“It’s not that easy,” you mutter, raising an eyebrow at her. “Love doesn’t just appear, it builds over several conversations and it takes time.”

“Not all the time; Eito and I had love at first sight,” she swooned lightly, and you rolled your eyes at her antics. “Anyway!” She exclaimed, slapping the table. “You have to talk to him more! You like him, right?”

“Obviously,” you deadpanned, giving her a look of amusement.

“Then go talk to him!”

With that, she pulled you out of your chair and pushed you out of the room.

You rolled your eyes, “That wasn’t very Plus Ultra of you.”

“(L/N)-san?”

You spun around to face the person, a small smile on your face. “Hi, Akaashi-san! Yeah, Aneko threw me out of the classroom.”

“Oh, I see,” he nodded in understanding.

“AKAASHIII!”

You jolted out of surprise, eyes widening when you see a third year look down at you.

Akaashi let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Bokuto-san. What are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong with seeing you? You’re annoyed of me, right?” A pout rested on his face, and you couldn’t help but question his strange hairstyle as you looked up at him.

“Um… hello? You’re Bokuto Koutarou, right? The captain of the volleyball team?” You forced a friendly smile.

“You must be (L/N) (Y/N)! Akaashi talks a lot about you!” He grinned at you with an owlish expression.

You felt your cheeks tinge red. “Really?”

“That’s enough, Bokuto-san. You’re scaring her,” Akaashi sighed before turning to you. “Ignore him. Do you want to watch our volleyball practice after school? You seem to be interested.”

You flush pink. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I invited you. It’ll be fine.” A small smile made its way onto his face. “I’ll take you after school.”

You grinned, “Okay!”

***

Aneko beamed at you, pinching your cheeks while she was at it. “Aw, (Y/N), I’m so proud!”

You rolled your eyes, pushing her hands away from your face. “He invited me to watch his volleyball practice; it’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is when you like him!” She cheered, the smile on her face widening. “You’re gonna cure that dumb disease and you’re gonna get a hot boyfriend. I rate that ten out of ten.”

You don’t respond, instead finding your phone much more interesting.

“Huh? What are you doing? (Y/N)…” You could practically hear the pout in Aneko’s voice.

You moved your hand away, blocking the screen so that she couldn’t see who you were texting. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Then show me!” She whined, before a sly smirk rested on her lips. “Oh, I see. You’re texting Akaashi, right?”

“What makes you think that?” You flushed, looking away from her.

Aneko grinned, patting your head in jest. “Have fun with him, (Y/N)! Don’t forget me, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knocking her hand once more. “Alright, alright. Now go away, Eito is waiting for you.”

She nodded, brushing her mousey brown hair out of her face. “Text me tonight, yeah?”

You hummed in agreement before turning back to your phone.

“(Y/N)-san,” a voice called out, and you felt your cheeks redden.

You let out a breath before smiling up at the setter. “You don’t have to add honorifics, Akaashi-san. We’re friends, right?”

“Then call me Keiji,” he offered, looking down at you.

“Keiji,” you said slowly before nodding. “Then call me (Y/N).”

“I’ve always liked your name,” he remarked nonchalantly. “Come on, we have to get to the gym, okay?”

With a slight skip in your step, you followed him to the Gym 03. He slid the door open, revealing multiple yellow and blue balls flying over volleyball nets. They flew from all directions, and stray balls seemed to be more dangerous than the actual people. The people in the volleyball team were tall, big, and intimidating. You couldn’t help the little shiver that crept up your spine.

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder and you looked up at Akaashi. He sent a reassuring smile your way.

“They’re not as scary as they look,” he promised, taking you up to the high rises. “They’re a bunch of babies when you get to know them.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your mouth. “I’ll take your word for it, then.”

Watching from above, you noticed the way everyone on the team worked together; how they cheered each other on and the way they dealt with Bokuto… everyone was a lot friendlier than you thought they were.

But all the peace and happiness you held was cut short as your stomach lurched and you felt your heart thunder in your chest. Your lungs suddenly started wheezing for air and you stumbled down the stairs. Trying your best to open the gym door as inconspicuously as possible, you bolted to the nearest bathroom to empty your lungs.

You gasped for air, coughing wildly as petals spilled out of your mouth and onto the walkway. Droplets of blood fell into the palms of your hands before inking the ground. Thorns tumbled out of your mouth, scratching and wounding your throat as you staggered to the bathroom, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth and taking over your senses. Your left hand leaned against the side of the gym, and you tried your best to stabilize yourself, but trying seemed to be futile.

Sobbing from the pain, you fell to your knees as petals and rose buds fell out of your mouth. God, this could not be happening right now.

Breathing heavily, you furiously wiped the tears and sweat off your face. You looked around you at the mess of blood, flowers, and thorns. You stared at the dark green thorns that scattered around you, and you couldn’t help but feel another wave of dread wash over you. Why…? Why was the disease getting worse? You thought that everything was getting better; Akaashi was talking to you more and you were making so much progress with him as well! So why was it getting worse?

You sucked in a breath, trying to regulate your breathing as you wiped your tears away. Your lungs burned in your chest as you got up from the ground, trying your best to clean the mess you made. Somehow managing to make it look like someone didn’t commit murder with a bouquet of flowers, you made your way back to the gym.

Forcing a smile, you slid the gym door open. All eyes turned to you and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Um… I had to go to the bathroom,” you said shakily, avoiding any and all eye contact.

“You were gone for a while,” Akaashi noted, “are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I just needed to get some air, y’know?” You faked a laugh before waving him off. “I’m fine, really. Go back to practice, Keiji.”

He nodded silently, glancing back at you for a split second.

“AKAASHIII! It’s your serve!” Bokuto exclaimed. “NICE SERVE!”

Picking up the ball, Akaashi let his eyes wander to you as you sat at the high rises. He felt his heart tug in his chest as he threw up the ball to serve.

Don’t lie to me.

***

Practice ended a while later, and you had done your best to not gawk at your long-time crush. Sure, you have seen his games before, but that was live on a screen. This was different. Here you could feel the thud of the balls as they hit the floor violently, and you could feel the heat and exhaustion leaking off the players; you don’t feel that kind of thing through a screen.

“Thank you for letting me watch your practice,” you said, bowing respectfully at the coach and the two managers.

They smiled, and the coach replied, “You’re welcome back any time.”

“(Y/N), I can walk you to the bus stop if you would like?”

You felt yourself panic internally as you stood in front of the open door. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was but you do anyway.

Opening your mouth to say ‘no’, you found that the only word that escaped your voice box was, “Sure.”

“I’ll change first, and then we can go.”

You answered with a slight nod, and the pain you felt just moments ago filled your thoughts. Shaking the feeling off, you waited by the gym doors.

“So, you and Akaashi?”

You felt your heart leap to your throat as you spun around to face the person. It was Suzumeda Kaori, one of the team managers on the volleyball team. She smirked at you, sending you a knowing look.

“We’re just friends,” you said bashfully, but on the inside you wished that what she said was true.

She didn’t believe you for a second, “Really?” She asked drily, the smirk on her face widening by a second. “So… you don’t like him?”

“I… never said that,” you said under your breath, and you felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “We’re just friends though. I doubt he even knew I existed until a few weeks ago.”

“Huh,” she remarked, before picking up a stray volleyball. “Whatever you say, (L/N)-chan.”

“(Y/N), are you ready?” Another voice cut in, and you nodded your answer to the question.

The walk to the bus stop was calm as the cherry blossoms fell and drifted over the two of you. It was nice, to say the least. Every so often, you found yourself glancing at the setter through the corner of your eye before forcing your gaze to turn back to the path. You groaned internally. You were falling harder, and the fact that you practically had a ticking time bomb planted in your lungs wasn’t helping.

“I’ve noticed you and Bokuto are really close. When did you meet?” You cringed slightly at the poor excuse of a conversation starter, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I met him last year when I first went to the club. He said that my tosses were good,” he smiled slightly at the memory, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“That’s pretty cool. He’s really loud, so I was surprised when I found out you were both friends.” You let out a small laugh.

He nodded in understanding, “I get that a lot. He’s not that bad when you get to know him. When I introduced you, you looked pretty intimidated.”

“I was… surprised. He’s really loud and he’s quite the character.”

“He’s a good guy; and he’s reliable.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Silence is the only thing that followed as you waited at the bus stop. Akaashi had taken sudden interest in his shoes, and you were trying to wrack your brain for a conversation starter.

“I forgot to ask,” he said, cutting the silence. “Are you feeling any better?”

You blinked at him, clueless for a moment before it dawned on you. “Oh, yeah, I told you I was fine, didn’t I?” You shot him a reassuring smile. “I was just feeling light headed in the gym. It was really warm.”

“Ah, right, that makes sense. I’m glad you’re feeling okay, (Y/N).”

Why was he able to make something as simple as your name sound nice? Blood rushed to your cheeks as the bus pulled to a stop, and the both of you took a seat. Cheeks still flushed red, you focused your vision on the window. There were a few scratch marks here and there, and you watched as the cars drove past. Red car, blue car, black car, black car, white ca-

“Are you hungry?” A calm voice questioned from beside you.

You opened your mouth to answer, but you didn’t need to.

Your stomach growled at the mention of food.

Keiji chuckled softly before handing you a curry bun. “Here.”

You eyed it warily, “Do you have one? I don’t want to eat your lunch or anything… and you’re the one who was doing the physical activity.”

“I have one right here,” he said, pulling out an identical bun. “Have it.”

You hesitated, but took it gratefully, taking small nibbles. “Thanks.”

The rest of the bus ride was relatively quiet, the both of you having small snippets of conversation throughout the ride. The bus lurched to a stop, and you glanced outside the window to check what stop you were at.

“Ah, this is my stop, Keiji. Thank you for accompanying me; it was really nice of you.” You grinned, showing a clumsy bow before picking up your bag. “Thanks for the food as well!”

“You don’t have to thank me, (Y/N). I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” He smiled gently.

With a final wave, you stepped off the bus before making your way to your house, cheeks warm and a goofy smile on your face.

Meanwhile, Akaashi sat in the bus, staring wistfully out the window. With a final sigh, he picked up his phone and clicked ‘call’ on a particular contact.

“Bokuto-san. I need your help.”

***

You returned to school the next day, expecting for the day to be the same as every other one but when you stepped into the classroom, you found a strange biological piece of matter on your table.

A single blue rose with all the thorns cut off on your desk. It was just… sitting there. You suddenly felt sick. Who the hell confesses to someone with a blue rose? Albeit, it was a very pretty flower, but it wasn’t something one would confess with. That is, if this one was a confession. What happened to the red and white roses at the flower shop? It was nowhere near Valentine’s Day or White Day, so there shouldn’t be a shortage of supply.

The only conclusion you could make was the fact that someone knew about your disease. Someone must have seen you. Your stomach churned with anxiety as you picked up the rose. There wasn’t a note to go with it, so there was no way for you to find out who delivered it to you. Then again, the rose might not have been for you.

“Ooh, Whatcha got there?”

You yelped at the sound of your best friend’s voice, nearly dropping the flower in your hands.

“Don’t creep up on me,” you grumbled, shooting a glare at her.

Aneko grinned, plucking the rose from your hands. “What’s this? From a secret admirer, maybe?”

“I think someone knows,” you said abruptly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you tell anyone?”

“What? You know I don’t talk to anyone but you and Eito and I didn’t mention anything to him.” She frowned, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe Akaashi knows?”

“Why would he know?”

“He invited you yesterday to watch practice. You did say that you had a coughing fit right?” A sly smirk made its way onto her face. “Maybe he got worried when you left the gym and followed you.”

You let out a sigh as you took a seat at your desk. Resting your chin on the palm of your hand, you looked at her expectantly. “He wouldn’t like me; he probably just thinks of me as a friend.”

Bending down to reach eye level with you, she flicked your forehead, and you yelped in pain. “Stop being a baby and tell him.”

“It’s not that easy!” You countered, rubbing the area she flicked. “I can’t just magically make the disease go away by confessing. He has to like me too!”

“You’re not making it any easier,” Aneko pointed out.

You shot her a fiery look, hitting the top of her head with a maths textbook. “Shut up, Aneko.”

She pouted at you before taking her seat. Akaashi entered the classroom moments later, taking his usual seat in front of you. You felt your heart hammer within your chest as you stared at his usual unruly mop of black hair.

You did your best to focus on the task at hand. However, trying to focus on a class you had zero interest in was becoming a problem. Staring at your very blank page of paper, you were very close to screaming. What was the lesson on again? Was this maths or geography?

“Ah, (Y/N), Eito wanted to talk to me about something. I’ll see you later!” Aneko exclaimed, and you brought yourself out of your reverie.

“Wait what?” You glanced around, but the classroom was pretty much empty.

“Wait, Aneko-”

But she was already out the door. You groaned, hitting your forehead against your table in frustration.

“I really should have paid attention,” you muttered to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut.

A small shuffling sound next to you snapped you out of your daydream and you looked up at the person.

“Keiji?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say another thing, your mouth opening and closing as you thought of what to say.

“You seemed to have trouble with the lesson,” he said gently, holding a book out to you.

You blinked at it warily before gingerly taking it. “You don’t have to do all this for me. And… how did you know that I couldn’t concentrate?”

“Aneko,” he responded, looking at you intently. “You can borrow my notes.”

You watched as his eyes wandered to the rose that was on your lap and you felt your cheeks burn. “Ah, this is nothing! It was on my desk and I guess someone put it there. I don’t know who, but-”

“Do you like it?” He asked, his eyes ghosting over your face.

“Yeah… it’s a shame it probably isn’t meant for me, though.” You offer a shy smile.

He nodded briskly before patting your shoulder. “Do you want to watch practice again today?”

“Really?”

“Why not? It gave everyone else motivation and you enjoyed it, right?”

“Yeah, I did! It was really cool watching everyone work together like that; your tosses were amazing! It seemed to get the whole team to bond. You’re really focused on the court. I guess you have to be when you’re the control centre of the team.” You shut your mouth abruptly, and your cheeks reddened even further. “Sorry, I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind,” he said tenderly, a strange fondness on his features. “We’ll go to the gym together at the end of the day.”

You beamed. “I look forward to it!”

***

The rest of the day goes smoothly. Well, as smooth as it could be. Halfway in your third period, you choked on a thorn and had to be excused for a full half-hour before returning to the class. For most people in the class, you were either faking to skip class or you were genuinely sick. Strangely enough, your teachers seemed to understand your situation and didn’t question when you left the class randomly.

Wonderful, you thought to yourself for the umpteenth time as all heads turned to you when you had returned to class, I’m absolutely pathetic.

You could still taste blood when you walked with Keiji to the gym, but holy shit, you wished that this could end.

And you realised that maybe it would end; very, very soon.

“Akaashi-kun!” A high pitched voice rang in your ears and you flinched slightly.

You and Keiji were just about to leave the school when a girl with bouncy yellow curls pushed her way between the two of you. You blinked, confused and rather insulted as you stumbled backwards, watching the girl cling onto Akaashi’s arm. You watched as his jaw clenched in agitation.

“Can I talk to you?” The girl asked with a sickeningly sweet smile as she side-glanced you before hissing, “Alone.”

He nodded wordlessly as he followed the girl.

You were no stalker; you were no eavesdropper either. Looking up at their retreating figures, you tried to find a reason as to why you should stay put. Your lovesick brain didn’t have a good enough reason.

“Akaashi-san, I like you!”

You choked as you clapped a hand over your mouth when you heard her high-pitched voice screech a confession.

“Thank you, but I like someone else,” Keiji’s monotone voice said, and you let out a breath of relief.

That was good, right? Maybe it was you! Or maybe it won’t be. You groan inwardly, steeling yourself as you listened to their conversation.

“I’m sure I can be better than her!” The girl exclaimed and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I like her very much.”

Oh. You slowly made your way back to where Akaashi had left you, thoughts running through your mind. How were you supposed to compete against her?

Moments later, Akaashi returned to your side, hands stuffed in his volleyball jacket.

“Did you wait long?”

“No, not really. The bus is coming, we should go.”

He nodded, wordlessly walking beside you. The silence that followed was, to say the least, awkward. You had a feeling he knew you were listening in to his conversation, and he knew you were uneasy about the entire situation. Tugging nervously at your bag strap, you couldn’t help the glances you sent from the corners of your eyes.

“Hey, Keiji,” you interrupted the silence and he turned to you, eyebrows raised as a signal to continue. “Uh… do you want my number? You can tell me when you have practice so I can bring extra food.”

“I don’t mind bringing you food, (Y/N),” he said, but a small smile was etched on his face. “I’ll give you my number, too then.”

And so, numbers were exchanged and the apples of your cheeks were flushed in happiness. That was progress, right?

The bus pulled to a stop, and you hopped up from your seat. “Thanks for walking me to the bus again. See you tomorrow!”

Dropping your bag to the floor, you slumped onto your bed, a small yawn slipping from your mouth.

From: Akaashi Keiji

Did you make it inside safely?

You grinned at your phone, quickly typing in a response.

To: Akaashi Keiji

Yep!

To: Akaashi Keiji

Thanks again for letting me come to practice!

From: Akaashi Keiji

Do you want to come to practice tomorrow?

You couldn’t hold back your squeal.

***

Three weeks passed in a blink of an eye and your friendships with the volleyball team grew. Aneko was still going out with Eito, and that would mark their second year of dating. Unsurprisingly, they dragged you into their two year anniversary, so you were forced to third wheel with them. That was when Aneko found out that you and Akaashi were texting a lot. She gave you hell for it.

“Four weeks,” Aneko remarked suddenly, crossing her legs as she rested against your bed.

You glanced up from your homework, “What do you mean?”

“You have exactly four months to live.” Hugging the pillow in her arms tighter, she looked up at you. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“What am I supposed to do about it?” You mutter, spinning your chair around to face her. “I’ve done everything I could.”

“But you haven’t even told him yet!” She countered, clenching her fists.

“I don’t have to tell him anymore! He…” You trailed off, recalling the words he spoke a few weeks prior.

“I like her very much.”

His words carwled back into your mind and you managed a wry smile. “He said he liked someone. That’s all I heard.”

“How do you know she isn’t you?” Jumping up from the floor, she shot you a pointed look. “Tell him you like him. There’s no point in both of you liking each other and not acknowledging it by confessing.”

“But what if it isn’t me? I’ll ruin a perfectly good friendship,” you argued, folding your arms over your chest as you reciprocated the look.

She groaned, grabbing hold of your shoulders. “Then he doesn’t deserve you. You have to tell him! The whole story!”

“No promises,” you laughed, shaking her hands off of you. “Get off!”

She rolled her eyes, the smile seemingly stuck on her face. “I’m really happy for you, (Y/N).”

“Thanks, Aneko,” you grinned up at her, “You’ve always supported me with everything.”

“Then support me with a meal!”

“Fine.”

***

Fortunately for you and Aneko, Akaashi had invited you to his usual Wednesday practice with the volleyball team. The whole team treated you like an extra manager, asking you to bring refills if they really needed it. Despite knowing that there were already two managers, you were perfectly happy with helping them out while you could. However, while the team was fine with you joining practice upon invitation, people seemed to take their enthusiasm for you being there an invitation in itself.

One of those people just happened to be Etsudo Emiko, the blonde girl who confessed to Keiji a few weeks ago. After he plainly rejected her the first time, she decided to take it upon herself to barge into the after school volleyball training. Unfortunately, when the other managers complained about her being a distraction to the team, Etsudo brought up the fact that you were allowed to watch the practices freely. As much as the coach wanted to take their side, he knew that the only way to get rid of Etsudo was to stop allowing you to attend the practices. The problem was, while Etsudo did virtually nothing to help the team, you motivated the team in multiple ways.

Nevertheless, Etsudo was allowed to attend the volleyball practices if she didn’t bring anyone else to which she swiftly agreed. Hence, the three weeks of patience testing began.

“Keiji! You did so good!” Etsudo’s high pitched voice reverberated through the gym.

The rest of the team let out quiet groans as the girl ran down the stairs to latch onto the setter’s arm. He let out a frustrated sigh, tugging his arm away from her. Not relinquishing, she trailed after him, completely unabashed.

“Am I the only one who hates her?” Kaori asked, her nose scrunching in disgust as she pumped a volleyball with more air. “You’re the one who likes Akaashi. I’m surprised you can even stand to be in the same room as her.”

“She’s totally annoying,” Shirofuku Yukie, the other manager, remarked. “The whole team knows that there’s something going on between you and Akaashi.”

You managed a small smile, “There’s nothing going on between Keiji and me. He probably doesn’t even like me that way.”

The both gave you a piercing look. “Are you stupid?” They asked together.

You don’t respond, eyes trailing back to Keiji. Etsudo was still clinging onto him, pouting up at him with her big green eyes.

A small cough erupted from your throat, and a lone petal found its way into the palm of your hand.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you said awkwardly, dropping the ball you were holding to the floor.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you responded by default, “I’ll be back in ten.”

With that, you ran out of the gym, a hand over your mouth as more petals dared to fall.

Why was the bathroom so far away?

You gasped for air as petals and thorns spilled to the ground, your tears following after them. Blue rose buds stained with blood escaped your throat as the metallic taste filled your mouth as dark red thorns scraped the delicate skin. The pads of your fingers dig into the red brick wall, the skin scratching as you dropped to your knees.

Despite the obvious pain and the salty tears that streaked down your cheeks, you couldn’t help the sarcastic laugh that you let out.

“Déjà vu really is the worst.”

A violent cough erupted once more, and you inhaled a shaky breath as more petals drifted to the concrete floor. As they did, the gentle patting of footsteps distracted you for a moment before the footsteps stopped directly beside you. Panic rose inside your chest. You needed an explanation!

While you wracked your brain for an excuse, a hand rested in the middle of your back.

“Breathe, (Y/N),” a gentle voice whispered.

If you died now, would Aneko kill you?

… Probably.

Your coughing died down after several minutes, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, eyes trained to the mess in front of you.

“What are you sorry for?” Akaashi questioned, crouching down to be level with you.

“I’m disturbing practice, aren’t I? What’s Bokuto gonna do without you?” You shot a teasing smile at him, but it didn’t quite meet your eyes.

Keiji sighed at your answer. “Don’t answer with another question, (Y/N).”

“Sorry,” you said automatically, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Who is it?”

“What?” You stuttered out a response, looking up at him for a second.

“Who is it?” He repeated, his gunmetal eyes boring into yours.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, getting up from the ground to gather your mess. “It’s not important, anyway.”

He was silent as he rose to his full 6 feet form looming over you. “Not important?” He repeated, mostly to himself than to you. “How can you say that about yourself?”

“Well I’m obviously not lying,” you countered, pointing to the floral monstrosity at your feet.

The muscles in his jaw tightened, and you noticed the way played with his fingers. He was worried – nervous, maybe. “You can die from this. I’m not as oblivious as you think I am.”

A sarcastic laugh erupts from your throat, but it comes out more as a strangled chuckle. “Sure, Akaashi. Whatever you want to believe.”

The look on his face darkens, and you avert your eyes from his. When was the last time you used his last name? His watchful eyes glanced over your face, trying to read your emotions. If he could read Bokuto, he would be able to read you, right?

Absolutely.

“I know you’re scared, (Y/N). You need help to get better.”

“Do I, though?” The eye roll you pulled off had you feeling a little guilty, but at this point you were done with everything. “I don’t need to get better.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” He demanded, the tension in the air growing thicker by the second.

“Maybe because it’s true!”

“I’m saying it’s not!”

He let out a frustrated grunt, eyes shutting for a moment as he thought of what to say. “You mean a lot to everyone.”

You scoff, “really?”

“Have you thought about Aneko-san, your parents, the team? What about-” He stops short, shutting his jaw closed as he averted his gaze.

“What about what?” You ask tentatively, your eyes still fixated on the mess in front of you.

“… Me.”

Your eyes flickered to him, the slight hunch of his shoulders as he stood.

“Have you…” A forced smile made its way onto your face. “Have you considered the possibility that he might be you?”

The silence that followed seemed to taunt you and you berated yourself internally. Did you hear wrong? Did he say something else? Maybe you were mistaken.

In split seconds, you felt a pair of gentle arms surround you, wrapping you in warm embrace. You had the slight temptation to laugh – were you in some shoujo manga or something? But instead, you return the hug, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I really like you, Keiji.”

“… I really like you too.”

***

~The End~

All characters except for the reader and my OC’s (listed below) are the work of Haruichi Furudate (古館春一). This is not part of the canon work by any means. I do not claim ownership over the characters or the Haikyuu storyline and plot. Without Furudate Sensei’s work, myself as well as many other writers are unable to create these stories.

My OC’s:

Fukuhara Aneko(福原あねこ)

Hasegawa Sakura (長谷川さくら)

Emiko Etsudo (えつどうえみこ)

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neighborhoodmoonchild · 4 years

Text

ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη - Pt. III

Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au, Angst

Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)

Warning(s): mild language

Word Count: 3.7k (oops)

Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, …

taglist: @best-space-boy @maryelixabeth @mochimaw @yeontanismypresident @hannahantonette17 @ign-is @fanfuckingfic @koala-wonderland @suchgayaesthetic @dulcaet @anoynmoustumbler @annoyingpessimist

~ if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, feel free to send me an ask! thank you💜

“It’s also a pleasure to finally see you again, Althaia,” Seokjin adds after a not at all awkward pause while Mira swiftly prepared an herbal tea meant to relax her noticeably uncomfortable guests. Looking over the rim of your cup as you took a long sip, your eyes darted from the man now sitting at the table across from you to the woman seated to your right.

He was watching her intently as she swirled her spoon around her cup, lightly agitating the liquid to blend the honey she always added. She once told you she’s not one for bitterness, and because she could never find the perfect blend sweet enough on its own, honey would have to suffice.

A long, dramatic sigh accompanied her look of disinterest.

“I’m quite surprised, though you don’t seem to be.” Again, your gaze flitted between the two, unsure of what to make of the situation. Mira didn’t seem bothered at all, almost as if this whole thing was something she expected, or at least, knew might be coming.

Why was she not correcting him? Insisting he must be mistaken; her name is Mira, not...not Althaia or whatever he said. And how could he insinuate he knows her in any way? He’s been a statue since before you were even born and Mira is only a few years older than you.

Mira had remained quiet, content as Seokjin waited for any kind of response. It would make more sense if she had outright denied his accusations, shut him down and insist a mistake had been made. Instead, she slowly moved her attention from her earlier ministrations, softly gazing upon you for a brief moment, then turning to him.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d remember me after all this time, let alone be able to recognize me, Mr. Kim.” Her voice was low and calm, calculated as she mulled over just how to address the situation to come. Something about the tone of her voice didn’t sit right with you. This was no longer the slightly agitating neighbor you’d grown fond of.

This person next to you was entirely different.

In the deepest part of her being, Mira knew it from the moment she met you that things were finally changing.

“What do you mean ‘remember?’” you piped up over the silent stare down the two had unconsciously engaged in. At an utter loss, your mind had taken the small bits of information provided to try and come to some sort of viable conclusion, but to no avail. Perhaps your mind was still processing your own dilemma, and you couldn’t afford to lend any brain power to this situation, or maybe it was just too far-fetched to even fathom.

Now, the two stared at you as if you were some poor, pathetic creature or a doll made of porcelain. Pitiful was one way to put it and it made your insides clench and churn, the situation all too reminiscent of a lamb about to be sacrificed to the slaughter. Eerie how suddenly you were the only one without a clue and it didn’t help that it now felt as if you were seated next to two strangers and not just one.

After the two continued in an annoyingly cryptic battle of stares, almost prodding the other to speak first, you decide the time for silence and secrets is officially over. Slapping two hands on the oak table as you shoot from your seat, the crack of skin on wood makes them fully focus on you. Not even bothering to look either one in the face, you let out a hefty sigh and close your eyes, mind suddenly battling an intensely growing migraine.

“Look, I don’t know whatever ‘this’,” hands waving between the two of them, “is, but I’m tired and done. With everything. Feel free to settle this on your own, I’m going home.”

Before you could even make it 5 steps from your seat, the slightly ajar front door slams shut...on its own. Like a lone wind had decided to fiercely bound though the opening, or more fittingly, a spirit decided to trap you inside.

“The hell was that?” You mumbled to yourself as you cautiously approached the door, afraid it may come suddenly to life, considering the day you’d had.

As your hand curled around the cool metal knob, you heard someone rise from their seat, “Wait, Y/N, just stay and let...let me explain.”

Swiveling your head around enough to see Mira standing firmly by her chair, a scared expression on her face, the atmosphere shifted. It set you off, igniting a sense of, you’re not sure, maybe fear, within you. Something wasn’t right. Nothing about this whole situation felt right.

“I can’t do this. I don’t know what’s going on, but it doesn’t feel right. I can’t be here...with you.” You weren’t sure what exactly was triggering this flight response within you. Not once in your time knowing her had Mira ever done anything for you to react this way towards her, but today, with her pushing you to touch the statue, to the odd sense of familiarity between Seokjin and her, to the strange aura suddenly radiating off her, it was all too much.

Your senses were overloading. Too much had transpired and you’d not been given enough time to properly digest anything. Going from a relatively boring life to one suddenly plagued by some kind of weird magic, sorcery, whatever it was, in the span of a few hours is too much.

The migraine you’d been fighting was on the cusp of becoming a full fledged breakdown.

Ignoring the protests of the two behind you, again your body moved towards the door, handle turning a fraction of an inch before everything stopped.

Seconds, maybe minutes you stared at the slab of wood. Not a muscle moved, like your entire body was paralyzed, only slow shallow breaths could escape the numb confines of your lips. As if you no longer controlled the only vessel with which you solely could. You were a marionette, controlled by invisible strings.

And then all at once, a warm tingly feeling seeped through your veins, bringing with it the sweet taste of freedom. Nerves alight, muscles contracting, you finally had your body back.

But with this came the intense fear of the whole situation. Every other thought within you was gone, mind shut down, body going into lockdown mode, syphoning your remaining energy into getting away.

Away from whatever this strange new danger was.

Slowly, cautiously, prey reacting to predator, you turned your body back to the table.

It hurt. Hurt to look at them. To look at her.

At first, a part of your mind jumped straight to blaming the newcomer, but deep in your soul, you knew.

She looked pained, as if she hadn’t just defiled you in some unbelievable and terrifying way. Like she had instead been the one to somehow become nothing but a husk reduced to a master’s bidding.

The questions of how and why were disregarded for a greater purpose, saving yourself from whatever was happening and preventing it from ever happening again.

How dare someone you trusted, cared for, looked up to, do whatever that hell that was to you, a friend, even for the fleeting moments she did.

The blood in your body was now cold, face pale and painted with such a deep look of betrayal you could feel the guilt radiate from her being.

“Y/N.. I-“

“Don’t.”

You didn’t even breathe when she flinched at the steel tone of your voice. This was all too much. This whole day was entirely too much. You needed to get away from this, from them, and you needed to do it now.

She knew what she’d done. Not only had she lied to you your entire friendship, but she’d hurt you in a way that shouldn’t be humanely possible. Panicked in her efforts to come clean to you, protect you, and protect herself, she’d acted too quickly, doing something she’d swore never to do again. It was one thing to keep secrets, but another to use them against someone.

Seokjin forgotten, you briskly made your exit, making sure they couldn’t see as the tears fell.

————

“If I see one more walk by, I’m going out there and beating the shit out of them,” you mutter to yourself halfheartedly underneath the comfort of the blanket fort you’d built in the living room.

After spending a few days trying to piece yourself back together, you’d decided the best course of action was: avoidance. Within the tiny walls of your home, you could stay cooped up in a safe space and forget everything that happened. Statue man could stay with her and you could go on with your life, without the both of them.

It seemed do-able at first, spending an unhealthy amount of time in bed, watching movies, the occasional brief call with your mother, but it of course couldn’t stay that way.

You’d been naive enough to think that the town would go back to normal, find something new to obsess over and forget all about you and the stupid statue.

Oh, how wrong you’d been.

Suddenly your house was like an attraction for everyone. As soon as the sun rose, you’d catch a few faces passing by your windows, just outside the front gate. There they’d sit for a few minutes, gawk and gossip, and eventually leave, and be replaced by a new set of oglers ready for a show.

You weren’t afraid of the attention, just miffed that your plan to lay low and be alone failed from the beginning.

Despite the annoyance from the nosy town folk, you were grateful that it had only been them, and not two other faces outside.

Watching the last of the group of young girls get bored and disperse from your window, you turn your attention back to the movie on your screen. As the characters moved and music played in the background, you forced yourself to try and focus on that. Instead, thoughts of Kim Seokjin and your friend weasel their way in over the noise.

What were they doing? Were they thinking of a way to fix things with you? Had they forgotten about you and moved on? How did she even do that in the first place? And what is the whole backstory between them?

The questions tore you up inside, fighting with the stubborn part of you that wanted to forget them completely. The other downside to isolating yourself was the immense amount of free time to think about everything that’s happened. It was a nightmare going over everything, every single bit that made no sense, bits and pieces not adding up in any way you could understand.

Just a few days ago you were a normal girl living life in a boring town fighting with your friend over the legitimacy of a town legend.

She was your only friend, the only person who listened, who understood. Could you forgive her for what she did? It was quite obvious she’d been keeping things from you, but for how long, and why? And Seokjin, your soulmate, how are you supposed to love someone you don’t know, who’s probably lived a whole life before yours even began?

If he is your soulmate, why didn’t he stop her? Did he feel the pain you did when you were robbed of your own self? How could he see you in such distress and not do anything? Why hadn’t it scared him as much as it had you? What parts of Mira’s hidden past was he privy to that you were not?

Perhaps you were putting too much onto the whole soulmates thing. After all, how could you expect a stranger to assert himself into such a personal thing, even considering the circumstances. When it all comes down to it, soulmate or not, Kim Seokjin is an outsider, an alien to you.

He is no more a part of your life than the nosy towns people, the visiting tourists, or the migrating birds. You don’t owe him anything, and he you.

The only thing you could wish for him right now, is to go about his own life and not force himself into yours.

Pillow clutched unknowingly tight to your chest, grounding yourself, you couldn’t help the dull ache in your heart. That was the only thing you would allow yourself to chalk up to the soulmate thing. Maybe one day, like them, you’d be able to ignore it too.

Movie long abandoned, you trudged your way back and forth, pacing across the wooden floorboards like a caged animal. You were desperate to get out, see the stars, breathe in the fresh air, but your body was still afraid of what leaving these four walls might incur. Whether you were ready to face them or not, you couldn’t sit there and drive yourself insane any longer.

The sun had set hours ago, the light from the moon casting a hazy white glow over the landscape, and you were desperate for even just a second to bask in it.

Grabbing a light jacket to fend off the chilly night air, you brace yourself, hand wrapped tightly around the door knob, and take a deep breathe.

Now that you were truly thinking about it, it must look overly pathetic from an outsider’s perspective. You’d been holed up in your home for four days now, only peeking suspiciously through your windows to glare at the onlookers and then returning to a pitiful mope-fest with only one attendee; you.

You owed it to yourself to snap out of it, move on, and go back to life as normally as possible. The only thing you could control was yourself. It doesn’t matter what others do or don’t do, you need to do what you can, for you.

And right now, that’s enjoying some fresh night air and being brave.

Taking that first step out onto the front porch is what you imagine the first astronaut on the moon must’ve felt. The most mundane of things became a huge feat, and you weren’t about to ruin it for yourself, no matter how silly it seemed.

Looking out across the street, the sidewalk empty and streetlights dim, it was like you were finally yourself again. The stars above and the moon shining bright made the first smile in days appear.

All of the worries, the questions, the bitterness lifted away by a light breeze, the clouds in your head dispersed and you had the sudden urge to forgive. All your life you’d been quick to judge and draw conclusions, but something within you told you there was more to this than meets the eye. You needed the truth.

Like fate had been keeping a close eye, your attention was drawn to the figure making its way along the outside of your fence line. The long dark hair caused a breathe to catch in your throat, and you were suddenly questioning if you were really were ready to face things.

She stopped just before the gate, head looking up and catching your eyes with her own.

Hesitating, she clears her throat, “I...I didn’t think you’d be up.”

Watching as her hands lifted up, you spot the neat paper bag tucked within her palms.

Still afraid to say anything, not trusting yourself to stay calm and collected, she continues.

“He’s been asking a lot about you. I wanted to do something...to apologize.”

She pauses, waiting to see if you’d run away or tell her to leave, but when you nod in the direction of the bag, she finishes, “I showed him how to make your favorite cookies. But I thought it be best if just I came to drop them off. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Arms protectively crossed over your chest, you take another deep breath and slowly descend the porch on step at a time. Instead of meeting her at the gate, you plant firmly in the grass.

“Why?”

It sounded choked coming out and you hated that. Not only did you not want to seem weak in front of her, you didn’t want her to think you hated her. The only thing you want is the truth. She owes you that much.

Mira fidgets a moment and returns her attention to you, not quite in the eyes, but it’s close enough.

“I didn’t mean to-I just-“ Tripping over her words, not exactly sure how to begin or where to go, you stop her quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Finally meeting your eyes, she sees the strength you’ve managed to muster up, sees that twinge of forgiveness at the helm and realizes it’s now or never.

“I’ve wanted to explain everything, I just wasn’t sure how to go about it.”

“So instead you instigate me to break some curse you already somehow knew I’d be able to, pretend to be someone your not this entire time, and somehow posses me and take away my free will?”

The look of shame that melted onto her face struck a chord of guilt deep in your soul, but this was something you had to do. For too long you let others have free reign, it was time to take control.

“I wasn’t sure if you could handle it, or even believe me in the first place...”

“And how am I supposed to ever believe you now? I don’t even know who you really are, what you are...”

Tension building quickly in the cool air, things were becoming muddled. You weren’t even sure what you were pushing for, a confession? A secret so dark and unbelievable it was grounds enough to hide from you for as long as you were friends.

“I’m a witch.” There’s a long pause. You both stand there, staring at each other, unsure of who’s to make the next move. Mira’s afraid she’s just divulged her dangerous secret to someone who can’t handle it, and you’re afraid you’ve officially lost your mind.

“I know I sound like an old record player by now, but maybe we should take this somewhere more,” she pauses to look around the darkness cautiously, sending a shiver down your spine, “private?”

————

Turns out cookies at 2 in the morning are a good way to smooth over the confessions of the magical past of your only friend. Not going to lie, you’d taken plenty of breaks to try and absorb and process the incredible amount of information Mira, or formerly known as Althaia in the late 1800s, if you can believe it, had to unload on you. In her defense, you’d pushed her quite hard to open up and be 100% honest with you.

“So, you just...change your appearance and house every few centuries and pretend to be someone else?” Rubbing your head to ease the growing headache as you mindlessly shoved another cookie in your mouth, you felt like a little kid asking an adult really strange questions that shouldn’t have a serious answer.

Mira nods, wrapping her hands around the mug of coffee you made her and taking a sip.

“And you knew Seokjin when he was alive, well, in his own time, before he turned into a statue?”

She cringes a bit and it catches your attention, “About that...”

“You mean, you’re the one that cursed him?!?” It was probably the hundredth time you’d asked her that in the past half hour, but you couldn’t help it, you suddenly felt like you were going crazy, trapped in some bad supernatural rom-com or something.

Sighing loudly enough to voice her growing impatience with you, she nodded, “Yes, for the millionth time. I put the curse on Kim Seokjin.”

“Well, why?” Resting your chin in your palms, eyes wide like a child, you prayed further. You just couldn’t understand why on Earth she’d curse him in the first place. Even if she is a witch, what could have warranted him to invoke a curse? And why this particular curse?

“Well, it’s not really my story to tell...”

Holding true to your childish theme growing in this conversation, you pouted, bottom lip sticking out and leaning forward on the table, “But you cursed him, how is not yours to tell?”

Mira only shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips at your antics. You’d only shown your stubborn side like this to her on few occasions, and it made her laugh at how you could be so apathetic one minute and youthfully enthusiastic the next.

“True, but there’s much more to it than it seems. Besides, I think it’s time you both get together, talk, and figure things out.”

Your silent for a moment, fighting another pout and mulling over her words. Then suddenly, it hits you.

“Well, if you’re the one who cursed him, you can break our soulmate bond too, right?”

Her grin morphs into a neutral line, lips curled in. Like she’s trying to think of the best way to let you down.

“The thing is, I only enacted the curse. The means to break it were decided by fate, not me.” The look of disappointment that washed over you couldn’t help but bring a prick of guilt from the witch.

She’d invoked the curse reluctantly to help another, and now she was hurting someone again. If she could go back, maybe she’d have done differently.

Silence again stretched out between the both of you. It was one thing when it was some folk lore from town, but now knowing the truth, and knowing it is all very real and unavoidable; unfix-able, it’s a harder pill to swallow.

“Do you,” you squeak softly, eyes trained on the floor, “do you think we can actually do this? That I can do this?”

Mira’s hand reaches across the table to softly grasp your own. Despite your protests, a small tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you rush to brush it away.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Even though she understands, she wants to hear you say it, for yourself to hear it.

“Of being tied to a stranger forever. Forced to be with someone I may not ever fall in love with...”

“To possibly fall for someone who’s forced to be bound to me forever, who may never truly love me back.”

__________________________________________________________

A.N.,

Not going to lie, writing this portion was like pulling teeth. I’m not 100% happy with how it turned out, but in order to progress the way I want, I needed some things cleared up first. Now that we know Mira’s little secret, how will Y/N and her’s dynamic change? How will Seokjin fit into Y/N’s life and this new world? I promise, Y/N x Jinnie shenanigans are coming in the next part!

-Moonie🌙

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gamerwoo · 5 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Seungcheol: Stubborn (Part Seven)

Characters: Seungcheol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst

Word count: 2,101

Summary: You’ve heard the stories your relatives told you about werewolves when you were younger, but you always thought it was just a scare tactic to make kids behave. Well, up until you woke up in a den full of werewolves.

a/n: so after rereading this part to edit it, I realized I had no idea what past me was thinking writing the original tftp because all of this was really unnecessarily dramatic. but I didn’t know what to change it to while editing it for this version of tftp, so it’s still unnecessarily dramatic lmao. but just know that if you don’t know what’s going on or why any of this is happening, I also don’t know either

Previous | Next | Stubborn Masterlist

“Josh!”

You couldn’t hear Seungcheol’s cry for the healer since you passed out. You hardly even knew it was happening after hearing his declaration that you were is mate, and you simply fainted. Thankfully, Seungcheol’s quick reaction time had him catching you long before you could hit the floor, but he was panicking when he realized that you weren’t awake or responding.

“Joshua!” Seungcheol called louder, tears starting to spill over from his eyes. What had he done? He was supposed to protect his mate, and all he’d done was scare you so badly that you were out cold. “Joshua, get in here!”

Joshua finally opened the door and took in the scene before him. He didn’t react much other than his eyebrows raising seeing you passed out in Seungcheol’s arms. He wasn’t really sure what could’ve possibly happened, but he he knew Seungcheol definitely didn’t know how to fix it.

Then again, depending on what it was, Joshua might not know how to fix it either.

“What happened?” he wondered as he walked around to look at you.

“I-I think she fainted or something?” Seungcheol guessed, his arms still securely around you as his tears dripped from his chin to your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to--”

“Cheol, she’ll be okay,” Joshua quickly reassured him, even offering a small smile. “She’ll wake up soon. I’m sure the surprise of the mate thing mixed with the fact she barely sleeps probably got to her. Her brain and body just need to rest for a bit. Put her in bed and I’ll go make her something to drink for when she wakes up.”

Seungcheol nodded and got to his feet, keeping you in his arms to carry you to his bed. As he tucked you in, he heard Joshua’s footsteps stop at the doorway.

“Seungcheol?” the healer turned on his heels to look back at him. “Is it okay if I just kinda...put something in her drink to help her relax? I think she’d--”

While Seungcheol knew that would more than likely help him with trying to explain things to you, he knew better than to let anybody do that to you, “She didn’t like when Wonwoo tried to calm her down, so I think it’s best if we let her do things on her own.”

Joshua let out a soft sigh but nodded before leaving the room.

Jia was already there, sitting down in the clearing you usually had to walk or run to. However, you just…ended up there. You weren’t complaining, you were just confused as to why you didn’t have to get there yourself.

“What are you doing here?” you wondered, curious as to why she’d be around in the middle of the day.

She shrugged, her classic soft smile on her face, “I dozed off sitting outside. It’s not like I can look at the scenery. Anyway, that’s not what’s important here. Why are you here?”

“Seungcheol… I-I’m his…” your voice trailed off, physically unable to even finish the sentence.

You were his mate. You were destined to spend your entire life with a werewolf who could easily tear you to shreds and kill you. A creature that had supernatural strength – more so than any other werewolf in his pack at the very least – was the person you were supposed to be with. You almost wondered what you had done in life to end up with a fate like this, but then you remembered who were you before meeting the pack.

The smile slipped from Jia’s face, but she didn’t look upset, “Ah, so you know now? It’s about time he told you; he should’ve told you sooner.”

“I don’t want this, Jia,” you told her, sitting in the warm grass across from her. “I don’t want to be a mate.”

“Well…” now Jia looked a little worried as she took a deep breath and exhaled, “technically, you don’t have to be.”

You cocked your head to the side. Nobody had told you this, “What do you mean?”

“A mate can choose to reject the wolf that imprinted on them,” she explained slowly, avoiding eye contact with you, “but it’s very…painful for the wolf.”

“Like, physically?”

“Mentally and emotionally. A werewolf would rather be dead than to be rejected. All they want – need, more like it – is their mate with them. If they can’t have their mate, they don’t want anything, including their life. They’ll just slowly die on their own. It takes about a month -- give or take a few days or weeks.”

As much as you didn’t want to be a mate, you also didn’t want Seungcheol to want to feel so low that he’d rather be dead, or for him to actually die. It would technically be your fault, and you’d never killed anybody before. Maybe cut them a little bit in self defense, but you were no killer. Wasn’t there another way to avoid this without ruining his life and yours?

You shook your head quickly, which seemed to make Jia a little brighter like her normal self, but she also knew you weren’t going to so easily give the alpha a chance.

“I can’t do that to him,” you stated quietly, mostly speaking to yourself.

“So then what will you do?” she wondered, sincere curiosity in her voice. “You have to talk to him when you wake up.”

You sighed, staring down at your hands in your lap, “There isn’t anything I can do.”

Jia reached over and rested her hands on yours. They were warm, which comforted you a bit, “_____, you know you feel what he does deep down. The mating pull isn’t as deep for you as it is for him, but it’s still there. If you let your feelings grow--”

“Jia, I can’t just let go of everything and give into some strange feelings,” you told her, sounding more defeated and upset about it than you’d like to admit. You couldn’t even meet her eyes. “Part of me wants to, but…”

“Then give it time,” she advised, her voice soothing like a mother trying to coax her child to stop crying. “You’re allowed to think about it, you know. Don’t you remember how you felt with Seungcheol before you knew there was a possibility you were someone’s mate?”

You shook your head quickly, tears already forming in your eyes as you remembered how it felt to be in his arms. You’d felt so conflicted and it scared you, “I can’t be around him anymore. It makes things worse.”

“You’ll have to, you’re going to wake up soon; I can feel it.”

“I don’t know what to say yet.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, _____. You have to decide for yourself.”

Her voice faded away like the ending of a song, and you started to come back to your senses.

All Seungcheol did was watch you from the chair in the corner. He listened to your heartbeat, which actually somewhat calmed him. He watched your lips puff out each time you exhaled from the tiny part in them. He drunk in how calm you looked when you were asleep, and how he wished he could keep you this calm forever. He hated that all he did was stress you out, but he also couldn’t stay away from you. He needed you in his life, and he wanted to be near you. But he also knew very well that there was a possibility – a big one, at that – that you wouldn’t accept him, and he would have to deal with the hurt and what came with it.

He was relieved and nervous when you began to stir, your eyelids twitching as you stretched out your limbs. He wasn’t exactly sure how long you’d been out -- even though it could’ve only been a few minutes at most -- but it was too long for his liking. He was just worried even though the healer promised you’d be fine.

You still felt a little dizzy and groggy, but as soon as your eyes focused on him, your heart wrenched. Why did he have to affect you so strongly and in such opposite ways? Why did he have to make you feel so safe and cared for, yet also make you feel like your life was in danger every moment you were in his presence? Why you? Why him? Why any of this?

Fate was a cold-hearted bitch that was probably laughing at you right now.

You wanted to just talk to him calmly like Jia advised, but once he stood up, your fight or flight instincts were kicking in again. It was the thief in you that was coming back out like when you’d first met him and he had to keep you from tossing yourself out the window. Only this time, you didn’t have plans to leave. You couldn’t find it in you to even go for the window.

“Don’t come near me,” you told him, wanting your voice to sound steady, but it was shaking more than your hands were.

He raised his hands up as a sign of peace, “I’m not going to do anything. Joshua left you some water on the nightstand, and--”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you stated, cutting him off.

What you wanted to say was that it was better for you to not speak to him, but your brain was too jumbled, and words tumbled out of your mouth without you even thinking about it too much. Your brain was at war with your heart, and you could already feel the tears pricking at your eyes, and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. But he definitely noticed, and it broke his heart; you saw it all over his face.

“_____…”

“Don’t,” you warned, but your voice was wavering. You started wondering what happened to the snappy, quick thief that you used to be because this wasn’t like you. “I-I can’t right now.”

“_____, we have to talk this out,” he begged. “We can’t keep putting it off, it only makes you feel worse.”

“I can’t!” you burst, covering your eyes with the heels of your hands and hoping it would block the tears from spilling out onto your cheeks.

“Then you don’t have to talk, just listen,” Seungcheol’s voice was soft as he watched you, looking for the slightest twitch of a reaction to his words. “I know this is a lot for you. I know you’re afraid…of me. All I can give you is my word that I will keep you safe, but I don’t expect you to take it. You need time to think, and I will give that to you. But…you have to stay here.”

You removed your hands and stared him down, “What do you mean ‘I have to’? You can’t tell me--”

He sighed, running both hands through his hair, “I feel bad making Soomin keep up with you when--”

“Then I’ll go home,” you stated.

“What home?”

You were shaking, and not with fear now. You were full of rage at not only the fact he felt like he could tell you what to do, but his comment. He knew you didn’t have a proper home and seemed to be using that against you. If you were thinking rationally without your emotions flaring out of control, you probably would’ve realized Seungcheol was just as upset as you were angry, and he wasn’t thinking before he spoke either.

“Fuck you,” you spat, pointing toward the door. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Go away.”

There was the snarky thief you were, but it was a bad time for her to come out.

Seungcheol realized what he had said and immediately tried to apologize, “No, _____, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant--”

“Get out!” you screamed, your hands balling into fists with the force you shouted at him.

As much as Seungcheol wanted to try to talk it out, he knew it was useless. He turned and exited the room, with you following to slam the door behind him and lock it. Then you sighed and looked around his room, frowning. You had locked yourself in the room of the person you didn’t want to be reminded of. You were surrounded by everything Seungcheol, including his scent.

You really weren’t the thief you used to be. Were you even a thief at all anymore?

No, you were a werewolf’s mate – and a dumb one, at that.

460 notes · View notes

mikroparadise · 5 years

Text

Sanctified (M) | JJK

↠Synopsis: Jungkook’s been away on tour, and you’ve really missed him. But when you try to show him just how much, he doesn’t reciprocate the way you’d like, and it makes you question whether the problem is you.

↠Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↠Word Count: 12.8k+

↠Genres: Angst, Smut, Fluff if you squint really hard

↠Warnings/Tags: punk rock!au; alcohol and marijuana use; explicit language (cursing); a sprinkling of an existential crisis; thigh riding; slight body worship; edging/orgasm denial; oral sex (m receiving); unprotected sex; creampie; multiple orgasms (m&f receiving); rough sex.

↠ Original Request

↠ Masterlist

↠ Read It On AO3

↠ A/N: I can’t believe I wrote a thing! Thank you so much for giving it a read! I really hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry it took so long, I’ve been posting for a few weeks saying that it would be done in a few days but life kept getting in the way. But it’s here now and I’m excited to finally share my first fic with you! Please tell me what you think, send me asks, leave a comment, anything. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated since I’ve never written a piece of fiction before! I’m excited to know what you think!

Also a HUGE thank you to the lovely lady who beta read this story for me, she is so freaking amazing and nice and helpful, and she really saved my ass with this one lol, and also to my best friend who helped me along the way and kept it real with me.

Sanctified: “declared, made or believed to be holy; free from sin.”

“….And that’s why George Nakashima is the best woodworker of our time.”

You stared blankly at your best friend as he took a gulp of his no longer neglected beer, dumbfounded as to why he decided to regale you with the wonderful story of his favorite furniture craftsman, and something about “the soul of the tree”.

“Did he really just spend 20 minutes talking about your guys’ boujee new coffee table?” you said as you turned to your other best friend, Yoongi, who also happened to be a bartender at the bar you were currently sitting in.

“Namjoon’s been enthusiastically domestic whenever he gets drunk lately.” Yoongi placed a fresh shot of rum on the bar in front of you, chuckling to himself.

Namjoon looked so melodramatically heartbroken that you were afraid his face would get stuck that way permanently. “I don’t think I appreciate being character assassinated by my best friend AND my boyfriend! And I am not drunk.”

In what you assume was an attempt at acting dismissive, Namjoon crossed his legs while leaning back and tried to take a swig of his beer. All of this simultaneous movement would have required too much coordination for even a sober Namjoon, so you watched as your friend’s elbow missed the bar, and in the process of trying to catch himself, spilled beer all over his face.

You fought to contain yourself, sucking in your lips hard enough to turn them blue. Yoongi burst into an absolute cackling fit from behind the bar and you absolutely lost it, laughing so hard that you had to get off your stool and stabilize yourself.

“I’m gonna pass out!!” you yelled as you slapped the seat of your stool repeatedly.

After a minute your laughter died down, and you looked up to see Yoongi bent over the bar, eyes screwed shut and gummy smile on full display, silently shaking with the aftershock of his outburst. When he straightened up you looked at each other for a moment, as if to tell each other telepathically to get your shit together before you try to console your friend.

You both turned to look at Namjoon, who you were forced to admit looked so pathetically adorable slumped on his stool and dripping in beer that you didn’t know if you could hold a second wave of laughter, and you could sense that Yoongi was fighting the same battle in your periphery. Trying to distract yourself you picked up the shot of rum from the bar and put it to your lips. As you were about to take your shot, you looked at Yoongi and Namjoon, who seemed to be trying not to laugh again, their lips pursed and struggling to contain their giggles. Just as you knocked your head back to let the sweet tingly liquid past your lips, they both burst out into a laughing fit again and you nearly spit your shot all over them as a surge of laughter erupted from your chest.

Eventually all three of you started breathing at a normal pace again as you wiped the tears from your eyes and Yoongi reached under the bar, grabbing a fresh towel for Namjoon to dry himself off with and handing it over to him, all of you still giggling slightly.

“Oh my GOD!” You fanned yourself with your right hand, as your left attempted to keep your sides from splitting at the seams. “That was too perfect! Looks like you’re cut off Joonie-bug,” you chided, poking at the dimples in his cheeks.

Namjoon swatted at your hand, pulling away from your intrusion. “Isn’t there a punk rocker boyfriend of yours that can come get you or something?”

“He should be here soon actually.” You pulled out your phone to check the time.

12:00 am.

You looked up from your phone to scan the bar, with its red walls and stained glass light fixtures that glowed with low light.

It was a pretty large establishment. It had a line of pool tables along the left side of the bar, a moderately sized dancefloor with tables along either side, and a small stage at the far corner for a live band. You’ve been coming here for a long time, ever since Yoongi, whom you’ve known since elementary school along with Namjoon, applied for a bartending job here a few years back. It was almost homey to you, and you enjoyed spending your time here with your friends, even on nights when there was nothing special going on, much unlike tonight.

Tonight’s live act had the place packed to standing room only. The band playing was none other than ‘BTS’, a relatively popular rock band, whose heart throb frontman and main vocalist Jeon Jungkook happened to be your aforementioned “punk rocker boyfriend”, whom you haven’t seen in months. The band was coming back from a tour overseas today and this show was their last for the summer.

The band’s instruments and equipment were on stage, but no actual band members. They’d be coming straight from the airport so you had no idea whether they were even here yet or if they were late, since Jungkook hadn’t really been able to text or call you much in a few days. You didn’t know why, but you didn’t think much of it since you knew that you’d be able to finally see him tonight regardless. All you knew was what time the show was supposed to start, so you decided to wait out at the bar with Namjoon and Yoongi instead of waiting alone in the run-down, tacky green room behind the stage all by yourself.

You looked back at your phone to check the time again when you heard a *tap tap tap* coming from the speakers. When your eyes hit the stage this time, you saw the broad shouldered, chestnut haired manager of BTS, Kim Seokjin, standing at the front-most microphone on the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please! They’ve just come back home from their first world tour, where they sold out every single venue they stepped foot in! Here at ‘The Speakeasy’ for an exclusive show, I present to you, The Badass, The Talented, The Sanctified! Put your hands together for B T S!!!”

The crowd erupted into cheering and screaming as the band members of BTS started to file onto the stage.

First up was the drummer, Jung Hoseok. As you watched him glide over to his drum set and sit down, grabbing his drumsticks and twirling them around his fingers, you were reminded of why he always got on stage first: that man was pure sunshine. Sure, he was wearing almost all black with raven hair to match and had tattoos all down his arms, but when he entered a room you could swear the lights got just a little bit brighter. Hoseok got every crowd excited just by him being there. He radiated absolute warmth as he beamed out at the crowd, waving to as much of the audience as he could, and you could almost feel your skin start to sunburn, when the purple haired guitarist hopped on stage.

Park.

Jimin.

If there was any man who made being in someone’s presence a personal attack, it was Jimin. It just wasn’t fair how much of a flirt this man was. It had always been that way. You remembered meeting him the for the first time like it was yesterday. Before Jungkook could even finish telling each other your names Jimin had already wasted no time in running his eyes up and down your body, like he could see right through your clothes. He licked his pillowy lips, took your hand and planted a kiss on the back of it, and drawled out “It’s nice to meet you, sweetie,” with a wink. Jimin had absolutely no shame, and that was when he was just being a muggle. When Jimin got on stage? Forget about it. You’d sometimes had to warn girls in the front row of their shows to try and not get pregnant.

He got to his spot on stage, looked out at the crowd and playfully stuck out his tongue before turning around to grab his guitar off it’s stand. It took everything in you not to yell “Stick your tongue back in your mouth boy!” and you ended up just murmuring it to yourself instead.

Right behind him walking onto the stage was one ocean blue-locked, ethereal bassist named Kim Taehyung, and ethereal really was the only word that could describe him. Both in physical appearance, and in personality. He was so beautiful. His facial features were perfect in every way imaginable, and yet whenever he hung out with everyone off stage, he’d sometimes make the silliest face he could possibly muster, seemingly out of nowhere, or would just come out of left field with the most outlandish statement he could think of at the moment, and his duality really made you question whether he was human sometimes. He put the strap of his bass guitar over his shoulders, plugged it into the amp, and freestyled a short riff, his long fingers dancing along the chords with ease.

Just when you thought the crowd couldn’t get any louder, there he was. Jeon Jungkook’s curly mop of raven hair emerged from beneath your line of sight, followed by his big doe eyes and his signature smirk, and the entire bar went absolutely apeshit cheering for the frontman they all came to see. When you could finally see him standing full stature on stage, suddenly it felt like it was too hard to breathe, your heart beating so fast that the sound of blood rushing past your ears almost completely muffled the sounds of the crowd. The feeling was euphoric, finally being able to see him in the flesh after six months of being away from him. You had missed him so damn much.

The beauty and grace of the other 3 band members had nothing on Jungkook. Not to you anyway. He had the body of some ancient God of War that you read about in mythology, the voice of an angel, and when he would touch you it felt like your lungs were about to fly out of your body and take all the air with them. Needless to say he was absolutely breathtaking.

Jungkook adorned himself with his guitar, leaned into the mic with a smug smile that showed off his bunny teeth, and yelled out to the crowd to prepare themselves for a kick ass show.

The crowd roared with “hell yeah’s” and “fuckin right’s” and huge smiles spread across the band member’s faces, everyone on stage exchanging smirks and nods with each other in satisfaction.

“LET’S GET IT!!”

On cue the instruments onstage and the members holding them came to life with the opening chords of the first song of the night.

‘Dionysus’ was growing to be your favorite BTS song, and it made a killer opener. You’d become quite fond of the drinker’s party anthem after hearing it open up every show since its release a year ago. It really brought out the inner rocker in everyone, no matter what genre of music they preferred.

Namjoon was the perfect example of that very phenomenon. A staunch hip hop enthusiast to the outside world, he’d never once admitted out loud that he actually enjoyed coming to BTS shows with you and always insisted that he only accompanied you to show support for you and your boyfriend, though it didn’t take a genius to see the truth. Like clockwork, when you looked over at Namjoon when the song opened, you saw him pound his fist on the bar precisely two times at the same exact part that he always did. You cast your eyes over to Yoongi, who was already waiting for you to look his way, because he was watching for Namjoon’s signature move as well, and the two of you shared a knowing smirk.

“I thought you only had ears for Yoongi’s music, Joon!” you yelled over the noise.

He shot you a playful look that said “don’t test me”.

You smirked as you shook your head. “Top ten anime betrayals!” you declared.

Namjoon playfully punched you in the arm, so you feigned death for a moment, falling limp onto the bar and letting your tongue flop out of your mouth.

Yoongi placed a new shot of rum in front of your face, making you straighten right up.

“Took you long enough! You’re not getting a tip!” you teased. You took the shot, the liquid tingly and sweet on your tongue.

You loved the witty banter that Yoongi would indulge you in. But the way he smiled at you, mischievous intent clear in his eyes, you dreaded where he was going to take the conversation.

“I beg to differ!” Yoongi glanced over at his boyfriend with a smirk.

“You’ll get more than the tip if you behave!” Namjoon winked at him, the smile slowly quirking up on his face showing off his dimples.

“Ok can you guys not eye fuck while Yoongi’s still working? You’re gonna get him fired and I don’t want you guys to have to move in with me because you spent your life savings on a coffee table complete with soul!”

“Wow, good to know you’re willing to help in a crisis!” Namjoon said sarcastically.

The band went through their set, and you watched as your boyfriend and his band mates practically brought the house down with their sheer stage presence alone as they ended their performance. Even after all the band practices, rehearsals, late nights of Jungkook singing to you and riffing on his guitar to try to get a song just right, and the countless live shows you’d attended, BTS performances had never once ceased to amaze you. The members had amazing chemistry onstage, topped with incredible talent, and no one show was exactly like the other. You were so mesmerized that you didn’t even realize the show was over until you saw Jungkook and his band mates hop down from the stage one by one and disappear into the sea of people. You were searching through the heads of the people in the crowd trying to get a glimpse of Jungkook when you felt a soft slap land on your shoulder.

“They’ve out done themselves again.”

You looked over your shoulder to see BTS’s number two fan (after you, of course) standing behind you.

“Jin! It’s good to see you again!” You threw your arms over his almost abnormally wide shoulders and gave him a hug, which he quickly reciprocated. “How was the tour?”

“It was great! The boys have quite the fanbase overseas. I almost had to add more dates, the people couldn’t get enough.“

"I know the feeling,” you said.

You were about to turn around to ask Yoongi to pour some shots for everyone, when you feel it. The heat. Like literal, physical heat. When you tried to look over to where you’d last seen the band disappear into the crowd, your view was blocked by Jungkook, heat waves rolling off him and glistening with sweat, followed by his three equally sweaty bandmates.

In the year and a half you’d known Jungkook, you could always count on him being physically hot to the touch. The man was like his own space heater. It had saved you a mentionable chunk of money during the winter, that was for sure. So especially after performing, of course he’d be so hot that you could feel him from 5 feet away. You ran the rest of the way over to him and practically tackled him to the ground, throwing your arms over his neck and moving in for a kiss, one that you’ve been waiting six months to give him. When your lips met his, he reciprocated with a sweet and tender kiss, which caught you completely off guard. You had expected something eager, something primal.

You’d fantasized about this moment for the past few weeks, all of the drama that would unfold. Thinking about him devouring you with his eyes, grabbing and holding you so tight that you couldn’t breathe, not that you would be able to anyway. Thinking of you getting home and not even being able to wait until the door was closed before your desire overwhelmed you, letting him have every part of you right in the doorway. So far, this was not at all going to plan, and you hoped it wouldn’t stay that way by the end of the night.

You pulled away from him to look into his eyes. He wasn’t looking at you in any type of negative way, but the fire in his eyes that you had imagined would be there just wasn’t.

“Hi baby.” he said with a soft smile.

“Hi Kookie.”

You searched his eyes for a few moments longer before turning to greet the rest of the band.

“Guys, that performance was amazing!” you said as you made your rounds, giving hugs to the other men around you.

“Did you miss me, doll?” Jimin’s hand lingered on your waist a bit too long, as per usual.

You gave him a hearty slap on the chest as you backed away toward the bar. “Umm, I missed my boyfriend. I will admit though that it’s nice to see all three of you again,” you simpered.

You made sure to put extra emphasis on the ends of your sentences. After all, who else was there to keep his ego in check? He only cared what women thought about him and you have the only vagina in your friend group, so that duty lay solely with you. You knew that on some level he was only joking around when he acted like this, mostly because you’d seen how he acted when he was trying to hit on a girl he actually liked. Plus you knew him to be far too loyal to actually put the moves on his best friend’s girl. Even still it was fun to shoot him down without mercy.

You turned around to face Yoongi who was about to take his apron off. Luckily Yoongi’s connection to the band had earned him an early end to his shift so that he could celebrate BTS’s return with you, partly due to the fact that Jin probably wouldn’t have booked this bar for the end of their tour if Yoongi didn’t work here, and his boss knew it.

“Before you clock out can you pour us a round of shots? We’ll wait for you so we can take them all together!”

“Pick your poison.” Yoongi took his hands off the strap to his apron and smoothed it back down.

“I don’t care as long as it’s strong.” You winked.

Yoongi chuckled and turned around to grab the shot glasses and libation when you heard Hoseok protest behind you.

“Who said the rest of us are willing to wait? I’m ready to get this party started!”

“I did, you didn’t hear me just now? Besides, it’s not like you need to pregame, Hobi. You’ll be out of it before we even get back to Jin’s.”

Jimin and Taehyung both slapped their hands over their mouths and turned away so that their friend couldn’t see them laughing at his expense.

Hoseok’s smile faltered a little at your insinuation. “I–I’m not a lightweight, if that’s what you’re implying!”

This only sent Jimin and Taehyung further over the edge, trying their hardest to not fall on the ground, laughing as silently as they could muster.

You just stood there in front of Hoseok with your arms folded over your chest, almost challenging him to try and prove you wrong, but Jin interrupted your playful banter to announce that he was going to go hail cabs for everyone to take back to his place.

“I’ll go with you,” Jungkook turned around and started towards the door behind Jin to help him go fetch your cabs. Before you could ask him to stay with you at the bar he’d already disappeared into the crowd.

You watched him as he walked out the door and into the warm summer night, staring at the door unblinkingly as it opened and then closed. You must have been staring at the place he disappeared through for a while because when you looked over at everyone else, their eyes were glued to you, likely confused as to why you went dead silent all of a sudden after you’d just spent a few minutes jabbering away with them.

You clapped your hands, shaking your head as if that would banish the anxiety that was plaguing you. “Alright guys! Grab your shots!”

Yoongi came around to your side of the bar after abandoning his apron behind the counter somewhere and sat next to Namjoon, who didn’t waste a second giving his boyfriend a kiss.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok closed the distance between them and the bar and each took their shots in hand.

You reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s shot for him as well as your own, and you swirled the spirits around in the shot glass, staring into it as if it would tell you your fortune.

‘Why does Jungkook seem so off? Did I do something wrong? Is he not as happy to see me as I am to see him? Maybe all that time apart ruined us for him, maybe he didn’t miss me…..’

“Ahem!”

You were pulled from your inner monologue when someone coughed very loudly in your direction. You must have been gone to the world again for the second time tonight.

You looked up to see Namjoon staring at you with a cocked head, and he motioned you with his eyes over to Jin and Jungkook, who reappeared while you were lost inside your head.

“Oh!” You chuckled nervously and handed over Jungkook’s shot.

“Shall we all toast to something?” Hoseok asked, bright smile having returned to his face.

“I’ll go first!” Jimin pushed his way to the center of your circle. He looked right at you and you rolled your eyes. “To beautiful women.”

Groans at various levels of done-ness broke out from everyone else in the group.

“Fine then.” Yoongi put his arm around Namjoons waist and looked him in the eyes. “To beautiful men.”

“To art.” Taehyung raised his glass.

“To being an amazing and handsome manager and CEO.”

“To the soul of the tree” Namjoon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

“To bringing down the house!” Hoseok acted out a short interpretive dance of a literal building collapsing that made you burst out laughing.

“To getting fucked up with your closest international rockstar friends!” you shouted, raising your glass high above your head in victory.

Everyone looked over to Jungkook who had yet to make his toast. He looked around at everyone in the circle in front of him, each person silent and waiting, like they were standing on the edge of a precipice waiting in anticipation for Jungkook to give the go ahead to jump. After a pause that seemed like it took a decade, Jungkook smiled and said “To BTS!”

“To BTS!!!” You all clinked your glasses together and knocked your heads back.

As soon as the liquor touched your tongue you regretted not specifying to Yoongi what liquor you had wanted for the shots, and it took all your willpower not to start heaving. You managed to swallow the fire liquid and keep it down, and you whipped around to face Yoongi who had a wicked smile stretched across his face.

“Yoongi!!! Tequila!?!?” You gagged, animatedly waving your arms above your head.

Yoongi seemed to find this hilarious and immediately doubled over laughing.

“Ah fuck, Hobi’s already turning red!” Taehyung pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose in apparent annoyance, but you could see that under his hand he was biting his lip to fight back his laughter.

“Well we better get in the cabs while we still can then! Let’s take this party back to my place!”

The short 15 minute cab ride from the bar to Jin’s penthouse apartment had been agonizingly uneventful. Everyone else decided to let you and Jungkook have a cab all to yourself, and absolutely nothing exciting happened. Not even so much as a makeout session. Most of the ride was completely silent, with Jungkook just staring out the window almost the whole time. Sure he was holding you the whole time but you thought it was odd of him to be so silent and it unsettled you. So upon arriving at Jin’s, you decided to try and not let it bother you by getting ultra drunk, because when had that ever not solved your problems?

You were about 2 shots of brandy and 3 blunts in when the thought occurred to you to try and get Jungkook riled up. He’d been keeping to himself all night while the rest of you played drinking games (which you’d been absolutely conquering, much to everyone else’s dismay) and you wanted to let him know just how much you’d missed him, in every way. So at the close of the game you were currently playing you concluded it was time to make your move.

“Alright guys, I’m tapping out for now.”

“What!? Come on girl, where’s the fun in that!?” Hoseok hiccuped as you got up from the table and made your way over to the couch where Jungkook was playing on his phone.

“I’m…pacing myself…” You motioned your eyes over to Jungkook and then back to Hoseok, hoping he wasn’t too far gone to catch your drift.

He flitted his eyes back and forth for a few seconds, and then you could see it clicking on his face. “Ohhhhhhhh…gotchu..” Hoseok winked dramatically at you.

You walked over to the couch and plopped down, snuggling up to Jungkook as he put his arm around your shoulders.

“Hey baby” Jungkook turned and planted a kiss on your temple.

“Hey. Whatcha up to over here?” you asked, peering down at his phone.

“Just playing a game I downloaded while we were in England. It’s pretty fun.”

“Don’t you want to come play with us? We were gonna play Cards Against Humanity next.” You nonchalantly put your hand on his thigh. You could still feel how firm it was even through his leather pants, and you thought about how much you wanted to just straddle it and beg him to let you ride his thigh until you came undone.

“No, I’m fine out here. I’ve been with them all day everyday for six months, I could use a break.” Jungkook kept his eyes locked on his phone.

You began inching your hand higher up his thigh, closer and closer toward what you craved so badly to finally touch. You weren’t trying to actually start anything with him, you just wanted to tease him a little bit. Get him hot and bothered so that the real action would start as soon as you got home. Maybe even in the cab. You craved him so badly after your six month dry spell that you wouldn’t have even minded him flipping you over on the couch and going to town right in front of everyone. You just needed him, and you needed him to know it.

Jungkook seemed completely unfazed by your advancing hand until you scooched up and began nibbling on his neck, right where it met his collarbone. The reaction you got out of him was the exact opposite of what you were hoping for.

Jungkook leaned his head away and gently pushed your hand off his thigh. “Not now babe, come on.”

“Sorry, I just missed you.” You sat completely up, praying that the couch cushions would open up and allow you to sink all the way through.

“Yeah I missed you too but I don’t feel like doing anything right now, especially not in my manager’s living room. Ok?”

“Yeah. Sure. I’m just gonna go back over there.” You quickly got up from the couch and grabbed a bag of weed on your way back to the dining room, where Jin and Namjoon were setting up the card piles for Cards Against Humanity. You were definitely going to need to get more toasted to make this work.

You sat down in your previously abandoned seat, grabbed your blunt wraps and started breaking up a bud while Namjoon and Jin finished setting up the cards and pouring everyone a starting shot of Ciroc.

“We’re already smoking a blunt you know?” Taehyung said through his held breath, having just taken a toke of said blunt.

“Yeah, well……” You zoned out as you began to stuff the herb into it’s wrap. “Since when is sharing one blunt with seven people fun?”

Something about your dulled tone must have set everyone on edge, because a hush fell over the table at your response.

“Um….did something happen over there?” Jimin inquired in a hushed tone. You could see genuine concern in his eyes as he gazed at you from across the table.

“Yea, that was kinda quick.” Hoseok cocked his head to the side.

“Guys, I’m fine. I swear.” You faked the best smile you could, but out of the corner of your eye you saw Yoongi and Namjoon exchange a look that told you they weren’t buying it. You looked over at them, and Namjoon quirked his eyebrow up at you, to which you shook your head, just slightly enough for the pair of them to notice without alerting the rest of the group to your telepathic conversation. Namjoon and Yoongi have been your best friends for close to 20 years now, of course they’d know you were faking, but you’d have to talk to them about it later, and they knew you would. You finished rolling the blunt and lit the end, taking your two puffs and passing it to Jin.

You started to play Cards Against Humanity with the drinking stipulation that the losers of a round take a shot, and though the game succeeded in lifting your spirits a bit, it still couldn’t keep your mind off of the man sitting in the living room all by himself. It was like you had completely forgotten about your dilemma until whenever there was a lull or a moment of silence, allowing your brain to kick up the emotional sediment you had thought to be settled already and bringing it back to the surface. You wanted to know why he was acting so out of character and if it had anything to do with you. This tour had been their first world tour, so this situation was completely new to you and you had no idea how to deal with it. It felt like it was eating you alive from the inside out and you didn’t know how to stop it, or if the flesh eating monster inside you would get it’s fill and leave you be.

After a particularly funny round, in all his flailing Jimin somehow managed to knock a bottle of vodka off the table, sending it toppling onto the floor and shattering into oblivion.

“Ah, fuck,” Jimin managed to say in between giggles.

Jin looked back and forth between the bottle and Jimin. “I’m not cleaning that,” he deadpanned.

Jimin just stared at him with pursed lips, giggling like a schoolboy.

“I’m really not,” Jin reiterated, trying to exude at least a sliver of authority over the situation. He looked around the table for support, but everyone was suddenly very interested in the cards they were holding, or straightening the stacks that remained. Jin huffed as he stood up from his chair. “Goddammit,” he mumbled, chuckling to himself under his breath.

The intermission gave you the perfect opportunity to go back into the living room and try again with Jungkook. You stood up from your chair and walked over to the couch where Jungkook was lounging with his head lolled back onto the headrest. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly ajar, but you thought nothing of it. You straddled his lap and ran your hands down his chest. His muscles were taught and firm and it made your mouth water.

Jungkook’s head slowly lifted, his eyelids heavy as he gazed up at you. “Hmm? What’re you doin’ babe?”

“Showin’ you how much I missed you,” you slurred out. You trailed a hand down to Jungkook’s groin, and your heart rate increased as your fingers made contact with his bulge.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow as he glanced down at your hand on his crotch, before looking at your surroundings. “Are you kidding me?” Jungkook sighed as he flopped his head backward for a moment. “How many shots have you had?”

“Enough.” Your other free hand was playing with one of his nipples when Jungkook grabbed you by the waist, hoisted you off of his lap and placed you next to him on the couch.

“Did you forget what I told you earlier? I don’t want to get busy on my manager’s couch, especially in front of everyone.”

Your heart sank into your stomach at his rejection. You made to get up when Jungkook grabbed your wrist.

“That doesn’t mean you have to leave me alone you know? I’m just not trying to fuck you on this couch,” Jungkook appealed. “You can still hang out with me out here obviously.”

“I’m playing a game though,” you said, confused as to why he wanted you to stay but didn’t want to be touched.

“Right, fine.” Jungkook relented and let go of your wrist so that he could rub his eyes.

As you staggered back to the dining room table you thought you heard Jungkook grumble something under his breath, but you couldn’t make it out, so you just ignored it and plopped back down in your seat.

Jin tossed the paper towels he used to clean up spilt vodka in the trash and settled into his seat as well. “Alright guys, we should probably make this our last round. Hit me with your best shot.” Jin picked up a black card. “War! What is it good for?”

Grateful for the distraction from the failure of your second attempt to excite Jungkook, you glanced at your hand and immediately knew exactly which card to use. You plucked out the card that said ‘An M16 Assault Rifle’ and slid it over to Jin.

Jin finished collecting all the white cards from everyone, shuffled them up and began reading them aloud.

“War! What is it good for?” Jin flipped the white cards over one by one and arranged them around the black card. “An M16 Assault Rifle. Historical Revisionism. All of this blood. Civilian casualties. A slightly shittier parallel universe. Sweet, sweet vengeance.”

Raucous laughter broke out among everyone at the table. Jimin crumpled over onto Taehyung, grabbing onto his shirt to keep himself from falling off his chair, and Taehyung was laughing so hard that his boxy grin was wide open but with no sound coming out. Jin’s windshield wiper laugh only made everything funnier, and you had your arms wrapped around your middle, praying to God that your spleen wouldn’t rupture. You laid your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder for support, which didn’t do much to keep you upright because he was clapping his hands like a happy seal, and Namjoon had gotten up from his seat and started jumping around like a kangaroo, while Yoongi just rested his forehead on the glass of the tabletop while his shoulders shook up and down in silent laughter.

“How did everyone have the absolute perfect card for this?!” Jin wiped tears from his eyes as he looked over the cards again, still giggling like a madman. “Umm….okay who had ‘A slightly shittier parallel universe’?”

Hoseok began clapping like a cute little seal again. “Ha ha ha! Yes that’s mine!!” Hoseok announced as he began doing a little victory dance and plucked the black card from Jin’s hand.

“Damn!” You slumped back in your chair still giggling, before sitting back up and taking your last loser’s shot along with the other five sore losers.

Now that the game was over you decided it might be a good idea to check the time. You pulled out your phone and pressed down on the lock button but you were met with a dead battery symbol flashing in the center of a black screen. So, late-o’clock probably.

“Everyone is more than welcome to stay here for the night.” Jin said as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Well I kinda want to go home, if you know what I mean.” Yoongi said from his spot tucked cozy underneath Namjoon’s arm, whose shoulder Yoongi was using as a pillow.

“I second that motion!” Jungkook piped up from the living room and you almost jolted up out of your seat. You convinced yourself that the spirits in your bloodstream were to blame for your frantic thoughts.

‘Does that mean what I hope it does? Has he just been playing hard to get all night? Calm down, compose yourself. Breathe in, breathe out. In, out. Shit! Not THAT in and out! Okay, breathe in, breathe out. You can make it till you get home. Breathe in, breathe out. Okay, act normal…’

“Well of course the couples want to go home. Us bachelors can have a sleepover without you then! We can stay up late, swappin’ manly stories, and in the morning…I’m making waffles!” Taehyung burst out laughing at his Shrek reference.

“Kookie can you call us a cab? My phone’s dead.” You were surprised how even your voice came out considering how fast your heart was pumping.

“Already did, it should be here soon,” Jungkook said as he made his way toward the table. “Let’s head downstairs and wait.” Jungkook held his hand out to you with a soft smile, and you took it and stood up from your chair, hoping that he couldn’t feel you shaking ever so slightly, or that no one heard your breath hitch when your skin met his.

You grabbed your purse from the table by the door and turned around to say your goodbyes to everyone. Just before you turned back towards the door you saw Namjoon and Yoongi wink at you in unison and you winked right back at them. And then you were walking out the door, holding hands with Jungkook as he led you down the hallway, catching you every time you drunkenly stumbled over your own feet or lost balance, and then into the elevator and out onto the street to the waiting cab.

You were having trouble getting your key in the door of your shared apartment with Jungkook, thanks no doubt to the significant amount of alcohol in your system. Each second that ticked by that you were stuck outside seemed like it stretched on forever. You just wanted to get inside so that Jungkook could help you ease the throbbing in between your legs that had been building the entire cab ride home in anticipation. Feeling the dampness in your panties was becoming agonizing.

You finally managed to find the keyhole through your warbled vision and opened the door. As soon as Jungkook closed the door and clicked the deadbolt shut you felt your desire finally come all the way to the surface, tingling across your skin and tightening in your chest, like your body knew it was finally time for release, and you felt a fresh wave of arousal soak through your jeans. You couldn’t wait another minute to finally welcome Jungkook back properly. You turned around and walked over to Jungkook, placing your hands on his firm chest (partly for balance if you were to be honest) and leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles from his pulsepoint up to his sharp jawline.

Jungkook let out a quiet, breathy moan, but tried gently to push you away. “Not now, let’s go to bed.”

“Kookie please,” you whined as you brought a hand up and threaded your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, giving it a soft tug.

“You’re drunk, let’s just go to bed. Come on.”

“But baby, I need y-”

“I said let’s go to bed. You’re drunk. I’m tired. Please just come to bed with me.” Jungkook reached up and removed your hand from the back of his neck. His tone wasn’t laced with anger but you could tell, even in your intoxicated state that we was growing a little irritated.

You looked up into his doe eyes that were pleading with you to give it a rest.

“Come on” Jungkook held his hand out to you and smiled that adorable bunny smile. You took his hand and followed him to your bedroom where you both stripped down into your underwear and climbed into bed together. Jungkook draped his arm around your waist and nuzzled his face into your hair.

“Goodnight babe. I love you,” he said wistfully as he placed a kiss on the back of your head.

“‘Night Kook. Love you too” Your needs would have to wait until tomorrow.

It had been a week since the night of the party and still nothing. Try as you might, you had been completely unsuccessful in seducing your boyfriend. God, even just thinking that made you feel like an insecure teenager, but you couldn’t help it. Your anxiety was reaching a fever pitch, and every day that passed that Jungkook rejected your sexual advances, the more knots your insides tied themselves up into.

That’s why you were on your way to The Speakeasy tonight, to talk to the two friends you knew would be able to help: Yoongi and Namjoon. Yoongi had texted you this morning telling you that you could meet them at the bar before it opened, so here you were. You looked out of the window of the cab, watching the clouds roll by against the pink and orange painted sky above you. Tall buildings would occasionally obscure your view of the clouds as the cab rolled down the street, and you’d look into their windows thinking that there are people in there living their own lives who didn’t even know you existed. It made you think about if your problems really mattered on the grand scale. Before you could spiral down the rabbit hole any further your cab came to a stop and you decided to save the existential crisis for later.

You paid the driver and made your way into the bar, which was virtually empty, except for the blonde and pink heads at a table in the back. You made your way over to the table as quietly as you could and snuck up behind your friends.

“Mwah! Mwah!” You planted a loud kiss on the tops of Namjoon and Yoongi’s heads, startling them both as they whipped around to face their attacker.

“Oh, it’s you.” Yoongi sighed with relief.

You chuckled as you sat down across from the pair and grabbed the cocktail Yoongi had already prepared for you.

“So what’s wrong?” said Namjoon, concern written all over his face.

“I don’t even know….” You took a sip of your drink, pondering on where to even begin.

“Well how about you start by telling us what made you upset at Jin’s last week?” Yoongi asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Ok, well, I went in the living room to try and, uh, rev things up with Jungkook, if you know what I mean, and he totally rejected me. And then when we got home it was the same thing!"

"Go on.” Namjoon’s brow was furrowed in concentration, nodding along to what you were saying.

You began nervously stirring your drink, pushing the ice to the bottom of the glass with the little black straw and letting it float back to the surface before submerging it again. You decided to just put the drink down, it was distracting you. “Well it’s been the same all week! No matter when or how I try he just won’t fuck me! It’s been six months, I’m getting a little desperate here!” you said, definitely far too loud.

“Thank God we’re not technically open yet,” Yoongi snickered.

Namjoon giggled, covering his mouth.

“Guys! Not helping!” You threw your arms up before slumping down and dropping your forehead against the table. “Please just help me.”

“Alright Drama Queen, let me ask you this. Has he been cold to you at all?” Yoongi began questioning you.

You had to think about it for a second. He’d been affectionate since he’s been back. He did cuddle with you at night when you slept, he’d given you plenty of soft kisses, but whenever you’d make a sexual advance, he’d always seem slightly irritated. That was what was driving you up the wall: it’s not like he was being a prick, he just didn’t want to have sex with you and you had absolutely no idea why. “No."

"Has he been aggressive with you at all when you try to initiate?"

"No"

"Have you ever considered that maybe you’re overreacting?"

At this you ripped your head from the table to look at Yoongi square in the face. "Why would I be overreacting? It’s blatant sexual rejection, I have a right to be upset!"

"Honey, have you ever considered that maybe there’s a deeper reason why he’s not indulging you?” Namjoon piped up from his seat, his arms folded over his chest, leaned back in his chair.

“What are you trying to say?”

It seemed Namjoon could hear the worry in your voice and he rushed to ease your mind. “I’m saying that maybe he just wants to relax for a bit. He’s been working almost every day for six months, thousands of miles from home. He’s probably tired."

"There’s no way that’s it."

"And you know that how? If you know what the problem is then why are you here?” Yoongi sat forward and put his elbows on the table. He was challenging your logic, or lack thereof, and if you were forced to be honest, it was working.

“Well Tae, Jimin and Hobi didn’t seem very tired at all, so how could you be so sure?” You thought you had him there, but Namjoon, ever the voice of reason chimed in with a rebuttal.

“Jungkook’s the leader of the band. There’s a lot of responsibility and extra work that comes with that, especially on tour, that the other guys just don’t really have to deal with.”

“Is that really it then? He’s just tired? He’s had a whole week to rest though,” you said.

“Well, I mean, that’s not all of it, Joon’s just being too nice to say the rest.”

“Yoongi,” Namjoon quipped.

“Have you tried to do anything other than fuck him this whole week?” Yoongi questioned you.

“Ummm..” He had you stumped.

“Out of the last seven days, how many of them have you tried to seduce him?” Yoongi pushed on before you could answer his first question.

“….All seven of them.”

“And you’ve paid no attention to any of his signals that might have told you he wasn’t up for it, for whatever reason?”

“Evidently not, asshole.” you jested, followed by a burst of laughter from all three of you.

“So what do I do?” you asked after you’d stopped laughing. You looked back and forth between the men, hoping that they could help you.

“Honey. Your main problem now is the same problem you’ve always had: you don’t talk when you have an issue with something,” Namjoon started to say when he was cut off.

“That and he’s probably pissed at you by now,” Yoongi interrupted. “Just ‘cause you think men only think with our dicks doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings.” Yoongi batted his eyelashes at you with a pout, his hands laid over his heart.

“Yoongiiiii,” Namjoon whined, before laughing at his boyfriend’s brashness. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is you stuff down your anxiety and pretend it doesn’t exist while it eats you from the inside out. All you have to do is talk to the poor guy! And you know I’m right.” Namjoon reached over and took the drink you’ve been fostering from your hands. “Go home, sweetie.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“Oh, he’s definitely right. And so am I.” Yoongi smiled his gummy smile and motioned you toward the door with his head. “So go, and let’s us know what happens,” he said with a wink.

The door closed with a soft click as you entered your apartment. The light that still lingered in the twilight sky outside was casting elongated shadows all over the walls; for some reason none of the lights were on in the apartment. You dropped your purse and keys on the table by the door, kicked off your sandals and made your way toward your bedroom. When you rounded the corner to the hallway you saw the bathroom light shining from under the door, and you were halfway there when the door opened and out walked Jungkook.

He had a towel wrapped low around his waist, his torso completely bare. His golden skin was still dripping with water from the shower, and he was ruffling up his dark shaggy hair with a towel. He smiled wide when he noticed your presence. His bunny-like grin tugged at your heartstrings hard, meanwhile you felt an ache between your thighs that was growing more unbearable the more your eyes raked over Jungkook’s half naked body. It was like your entire being was trying to rip itself in half.

“Hey babe!” Jungkook sauntered over to you and gave you a sweet kiss that lasted nowhere near long enough.

“Kookie, can I talk to you about something?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jungkook cocked his head to the side.

“Umm… I’m not sure how to start this…” you trailed off, wrapping your arms around your shoulders. You remained silent far too long for Jungkook’s liking.

“Are you ok?” Jungkook’s big doe eyes were wide open as he took a step closer.

You had to turn your head away. The close proximity was killing you, and you had to get through this. “Sort of…” you murmured. You risked a glance up at his face to see his eyes light up with absolute panic.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Jungkook reached out and grabbed your shoulders, and electricity shot through your skin from his warm touch.

“Why won’t you sleep with me?” you uttered, barely above a whisper.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook shook his head in surprise.

“I said ‘Why won’t you sleep with me?’” you answered, this time at a higher volume than necessary.

Jungkook’s hands dropped from your shoulders as he backed away from you. He put his arms across his chest and stared at you for what seemed like forever, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Will you say something already?!” Boy, did that come out wrong.

“Are you being for real right now?!”

“Yeah I’m being for real!”

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe this is seriously the only thing you care about.”

“Well I’ve been coming onto you for days and you’re just not having it!” You knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to start yelling, but you’d been holding it in so long that you figured ‘Fuck it, might as well let it all out.’

“And why do you think that is? I just got back from tour, have you heard of a thing called jet lag?” Jungkook asked sarcastically.

“It’s been a whole week Kook! You trying to tell me you still have jet lag?”

“Does it matter if I do? Because from what I’ve seen you don’t care about how I’ve felt the past week in the slightest, so why would you care now?” Jungkook threw his arms up in frustration.

“How about how I feel?! You’ve been rejecting me after we haven’t had sex in months, and you haven’t let on about why you’re rejecting me at all!” You were getting angry now, and you could feel all the blood rushing to your face as you waited for his reply.

“Why is it so hard for you to just be considerate of the fact that I just wanted to rest? I told you more than once I didn’t want to do anything! You sound so selfish right now!” Jungkook took a step forward, and you could see in his face he was becoming just as angry as you were.

“Well what about the night of the party?”

“What do you mean ‘What about the night of the party?’”

“I heard that moan! When I was kissing your neck? You liked it and you pushed me away anyway! What the fuck is up with that?!”

“You were piss drunk! Excuse me for not wanting to fuck you while you’re barely even there! Especially after I told you more than once that night that I was tired. There seems to be a recurring theme here,” Jungkook countered.

You were at a loss for words, and after a few tense moments Jungkook continued to unload on you.

“What I don’t understand is why you have to keep pushing it! The only thing you’ve wanted since I got back is sex! You didn’t want to spend time with me at Jin’s, you’d rather just get shitfaced with MY friends. You haven’t tried to spend any real time with me at all! It’s like you only missed my dick, not me! And this whole time I’ve actually been being pretty fuckin’ nice about it! I’ve been pissed off for a whole fucking week and not once have I taken it out on you!” Jungkook was seething, his breathing becoming heavier. Now you could see the fire burning in his pupils, you just wished it had been under better circumstances.

“So you’re pissed that I want to have sex with you?! What kind of sense does that make? Does that mean that you don’t want to fuck me at all? That this whole week you haven’t wanted to fool around even a little?!”

“Of course I want to! What, do you think these past few months were easy for me?! You’re not the only one here who hasn’t had any form of sexual contact in months you know! Do you know how hard it is to listen to your friends fucking in the other room while you’re on the other side of the world from you’re girlfriend? So of course I want to! It’s just kinda hard to get in the mood when I feel like the only thing you care about is my dick and not the whole me!” Jungkook’s whole body was so tense that he was shaking.

“Ok, fine! Sure, let’s just say I was wrong, or was being selfish. If you were tired and jet lagged, or I pissed you off, all you had to do is tell me! And you didn’t. You just pretended that I didn’t have feelings too! That makes you just as guilty as me.” You stepped closer to him, his height unable to intimidate you. If your rage wasn’t (thankfully) blocking out your desire you didn’t know if you’d even be able to speak. How long that would last you had no idea, but you weren’t going to let the opportunity pass you by. You weren’t backing down.

“I’m not wrong. You should have taken the hint.” The slightly softened look on Jungkook’s face when he finished speaking told you he was just grabbing at straws, so you knew it was time to go in for the kill.

“Oh! Mr. Sanctified can never be wrong! Jeon Jungkook is a God among men, how could he possibly make an error!?” you spat sarcastically, your words laced with venom as you pretended to speak to an audience around you, waving your arms around patronizingly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at you, clearly fed up with your little performance.

“I was wrong, and so were you,” you hissed, punctuating your point by poking him in the chest.

Jungkook stepped closer to you once more, his face now a mere inch away from yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. Once again the close proximity snapped you out of your thoughts, and all you wanted to do was reach over and touch his taut abdominal muscles.

“Oh my God, fine! I was wrong too! What more do you want from me?!”

“I want you to fuck me already!!!”

There was silence. Neither of you spoke for a few incredibly long seconds. Every little sound around you slowly amplified in your ears as you stared into his heavy-lidded brown eyes: your heartbeat thrumming in your chest, Jungkook’s quickening breaths, the clock on the wall that marked each second that ticked by while the both of you stood there, your bodies so close to touching and yet so far. The inches felt like miles. You wanted something to happen but the tension was so thick you didn’t know if you could actually move. Your arousal began dripping down your thighs, having already soaked though your lace panties. This was absolute agony.

Jungkook’s eyes darkened. By the time you noticed his lips move back to bare his gritted teeth Jungkook surged forward and pushed you back the few feet between you and the wall and pinned your arms above your head, ravenously biting and kissing at your pulsepoint and pressing his body against yours. It sent you reeling, thrashing your head back against the wall as a guttural moan ripped from your throat. He knew right where your most sensitive spots were and he was not going to take his time getting there.

There was nothing gentle about Jungkook’s movements. It was purely carnal as he removed one of his hands from your wrists and wrapped it around the back of your neck, pulling you into the most intense kiss he’d ever given you. Your teeth clashed, your tongue entangled with his, trying to taste every part of his mouth like it would be the last kiss you’d ever have.

When he pulled away you immediately felt empty, panting and gasping for air as you gazed at him. He was looking deep into your eyes, his breathing heavy and labored. You squirmed, desperate for more contact.

“Is this what you wanted, babygirl?” Jungkook sultry deep voice rippled through your body as his hand snaked up the hem of your dress, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“Yes. Oh fuck, yes,” you panted out, having now lost all ability to compose yourself.

“I think we need to get these out of the way.” Jungkook let out a deep growl as he hooked his fingers through your panties and ripped them clean off your body. “I hope you don’t like this dress.” Without even waiting for you to respond, Jungkook let go of your wrists with his other hand and ripped your dress right down the middle and let it fall to the floor at your feet.

You stood there in front of him, almost completely bare with the exception of your bra. Jungkook’s gaze wandered all over your body, his eyes leaving tingles raking across your skin wherever they went. The anticipation was unbearable; your breathing was erratic and completely out of your control.

“Take that off.” Jungkook motioned for you to take off your last remaining garment with a nod of his head, and you quickly obliged, unhooking the clasps and tossing it to the side.

Jungkook rushed forward again, pinning your arms out to either side of you against the wall. His voice dripped with honey as he brought his lips to the shell of your ear and whispered. “Tell me what you want to do, babygirl.” Jungkook bit down softly on your earlobe and you nearly collapsed at the sensation, his breath fanning across the skin of your neck only intensifying your pleasure and your breaths were coming out in short puffs as you struggled to speak.

“Please let me ride your thigh.” you whined.

You could feel Jungkook smirk as he kissed the side of your neck, just under your ear. He straightened up and took off his towel, which had formed a tent from his erection, letting his cock spring free. The bulging veins running down the length of his long shaft were almost visibly throbbing, and fresh precum had started to bead at his tip.

For a moment you almost regretted not asking to get on your knees and please him. You almost felt selfish for asking for your own desire, but Jungkook grabbed your wrists again and pinned them above your head, and suddenly you forgot what you were thinking about as he slotted his leg between yours, giving you full access to what you wanted.

“Ride,” Jungkook drawled as a cocky smile spread across his face.

You immediately started grinding your hips against Jungkook’s thigh.The friction from his taut leg muscles flexing against your clit was overwhelming, and you began to roll your hips more feverishly against it, letting your slick juices spread across his hot, golden skin, all the while letting out wanton moans that made Jungkook’s cock twitch.

“You’re so fucking needy.” Jungkook brought a hand down to massage one of your breasts, before dipping down and taking your nipple into his mouth, flicking the bud with his tongue. He alternated his attention between both of your breasts, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin and then removing his mouth with a pop, and your hips stuttered as you whimpered his name over and over like a mantra, your eyes screwed shut.

“Look at me, babygirl.”

You snapped your eyes open to see Jungkook staring at you with the intensity of a supernova. You could feel your orgasm approaching, pooling at the bottom of your stomach, ready to overflow.

“Please let me touch you” you mewled, desperate for him to let go of your wrists so that you could run your hands along his body.

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you don’t get to touch me yet. Keep going baby.” He began to let his free hand wander along your skin, exploring the curvature of you hips and ass and sending shivers up your spine that only accelerated your oncoming orgasm.

You kept grinding your hips against his thigh, your clit so sensitive that each flex of his muscle threatened to throw you over the edge. Your moans were reaching peak volume, being so completely enraptured that you were unable to contain it, and your body was drenched in sweat.

Jungkook leaned forward and licked a stripe up your neck to your ear, making you writhe and whine in ecstasy, and he whispered one singular word.

“Cum.”

On command your orgasm rushed over you. Electricity shot up through every nerve ending in your body, every muscle in your legs tensing and beginning to shake from the sheer force of it. You threw your head back in rapture, allowing your cries of ecstasy to escape your chest of their own accord.

You breathed deeply, albeit shakily, as you slowed the rolling of your hips, riding out the remnants of your orgasm.

Slowly your limbs started to feel like jello, but just before you could sink down the wall and bask in your post-climax bliss, Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you further up against the wall, pressing his body against yours and wrapping your legs around his waist. He began leaving sweet, soft kisses along your shoulders and chest, nibbling on your breasts and laving his tongue over the spots to soothe them. His movements were slow and gentle, a complete 180 from what had just transpired. Jungkook was the undisputed king of aftercare. God, you missed him so much.

Jungkook began rubbing soft circles on your thighs where he was holding you with his thumbs, occasionally grabbing a handful of your flesh and massaging it with his strong hands. You let out long, breathy moans at his ministrations, revelling in all of the sensations that were making your skin shiver in absolute bliss.

You realized that he’d let go of your hands, so you ran them along the breadth of his shoulders and down his chest, letting your nails lightly ghost across his skin.

Jungkook whispered your name into your skin, shivering at the sensation.

You wished that this would never end; that you and Jungkook could stay like this, worshipping each others bodies forever. This was euphoric. This was paradise.

You brought your hands up his neck and pulled his face to yours. Your lips met in a soft brush of skin, the embers of your passion slowly igniting and engulfing you as your tongues danced along the insides of each other’s mouths, growing more and more fervent as the seconds ticked by, the both of you whimpering and whining into the kiss

Jungkook wrapped his muscular arms around your waist and peeled you away from the wall as you reached up and threaded your fingers through his long raven hair, tugging on the strands. He walked you over to the living room and placed you on the couch. The moon was shining bright through the open curtains, casting an almost mystical glow on Jungkook’s skin as he removed himself from you and started kissing his way down your body toward your glistening cunt.

But you wanted to please him. You’d barely gotten to touch him so far, and you so craved to. Jungkook had reached your stomach when you decided it was his turn; if you caught him off guard you’d be able to overpower him enough to pin him to the couch.

In one swift movement you managed to flip him over on the couch, and you slid your body down off the furniture and onto your knees so that you were eye level his magnificent, beautiful cock. Just as your knees hit the floor, you had an incredible idea that made you giddy with excitement. You were going to take revenge on him for all of the rejection of the past week.

You looked up into his deep doe eyes that had widened in shock at your boldness. You smirked to yourself at your successful plan, knowing that he had not expected that at all, and that he had no idea what you had in store for him. It was your turn to get even. It was time to make him sweat.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

“It’s your turn Kookie.” Your voice was sugary sweet as you rubbed your hands up and down his muscular thighs. You licked a stripe up the underside of his cock and swirled your tongue around the head with feathery light pressure, before licking up the precum that was dribbling out of his tip.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip to hold back a whine. This was going to be fun.

You continued leaving kitten licks all across his shaft, and Jungkook began running his fingers through your hair. Then, unprovocted, you instantaneously took his entire cock into your mouth all the way to the base, and buried your nose into his taught stomach, eliciting a cry of pleasure from Jungkook as his head fell back against the headrest of the couch and his fingers tightened in your hair. You swallowed while his cock was still buried in your throat, and it began to throb against the walls of your mouth.

Jungkook’s breath was ragged as you started to bob up and down, occasionally stopping to lick a stripe up from the base of his cock, or to spit on it to make everything messy. Delicious breathy moans and whimpers were leaving his lips that only goaded you on further.

His thighs started to tense and shake. He was close.

“I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook whined.

As soon as Jungkook spoke, you gripped the base of his cock and squeezed, and you removed your mouth from him and sat back on your haunches so that you could watch his reaction.

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open in panic. “What’s going on?” Jungkook panted.

“Shhhh, baby, calm down.” You felt devious as you crawled forward toward his messy, throbbing cock again. You placed your tongue back at his base and repeated the process all over again; licking, sucking and swallowing on his cock until you felt him getting ready to cum again. Once again you pulled completely away and left his orgasm hanging in the ether.

What you saw when you looked up at him this time had your heart racing in excitement. Jungkook was totally wrecked. His body was drenched in sweat, his hair was matted to his forehead, and his breathing was frantic. If it hadn’t been so long since you’d been together it might have taken a few more times to make him look like this, but it made pride swell in your chest that Jeon Jungkook, long haired international rock god, looked this fucked out because of you.

“Baby, please,” Jungkook whined. He looked so desperate as his chest rose and fell in rapid succession and his cock throbbed, “Please let me cum.”

You smirked as you crawled up from the floor and straddled him. Jungkook’s cock was pressed up against his stomach, and you began to roll your hips against his head, allowing it to slide across your clit.

“Mmm, fuck,” Jungkook whimpered, rolling his head back

“Look at me Kookie.”

Jungkook looked up at you, the sweaty fringe of his bangs hanging in his eyes, and bit down on his lip.

You pressed your forehead to his as you reached down and lined his cock up with your entrance. You slowly sunk down onto him, savoring the stretch inside your pussy, and you both sighed out in pleasure. You pulled Jungkook into a tender kiss as you bottomed out, and you began grinding your hips up and down tantalizingly slow.

Jungkook pulled away from the kiss to look into your eyes and gritted his teeth. His hands snaked down to the flesh of your ass and squeezed, guiding your hips as you continued to ride him.

The feeling of finally having Jungkook inside you was other-worldly. It sent warm tingles across your skin with every stroke. How had you functioned this whole tour without being able to have him like this? It was like Jungkook was custom made just for you.

Jungkook’s moans were getting louder and more desperate sounding and you still hadn’t even sped up yet, trying to drag out the slow grind of your hips, to feel every single inch of him. You contemplated getting off of Jungkook one more time, but as if he could read your mind, Jungkook stopped that thought in its tracks.

“Don’t you dare think about edging me again.”

You placed your hands on his chest, fanning your fingers out across the smooth skin. You were about to push yourself up when Jungkook wrapped his arms around you waist to hold you on top of him.

“Please baby, I’m so close.” Jungkook began rutting up into you, keeping the pace you’d already set. The addition of his rolling hips made it so that he was hitting your g-spot, and you leaned down to bite on his shoulder to stifle your moans.

Jungkook’s own thrusts were getting sloppy. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was close.

“Where do you want me to cum, babygirl?” Jungkook whispered in your ear.

“Inside me,” you mewled. Your second orgasm was rapidly approaching and it was getting hard to try and form coherent responses.

Soon after his request, Jungkook’s hips stuttered and his thighs tensed as his orgasm flooded over him. Strings of hot cum filled you up as you helped him ride out his orgasm, his face buried in the bruised flesh of your neck to muffle his cries of euphoria, before exhaling a deep, shaky breath.

You laid there on top of him for a few moments, content with the fact that you’d only get to cum once, but vibrations against your skin caught you off guard. Jungkook was…laughing.

Jungkook chuckled into the crook of your neck for a few seconds before uttering a string of words that made your stomach drop, because it reminded you that there was a critical piece of knowledge that you’d overlooked.

“You’re gonna get it, now.”

The critical piece of knowledge you’d forgotten, was that Jungkook can stay hard.

It was at this moment that you knew, you fucked up.

With a growl Jungkook pushed the both of you onto the floor. Your back hit the floor with a soft thud, and Jungkook folded you in half as a wicked grin stretched across his face. He lined himself up and entered you with a snap of his hips, pushing his cock in all the way to the hilt and causing some of his cum to squeeze out.

“Your pussy looks so fucking good filled up with my cum.” Jungkook pulled all the way out and plunged back into your pussy with enough force to scoot your body up the floor. Cries of pleasure erupted from your chest as he set a punishing pace, crashing his hips against yours hard and fast.

You lost all concept of time and reality, knowing only the feeling of Jungkook inside you, his growls and moans, your sobs of ecstacy, the wet sounds of your bodies smacking together, and the feeling of a second orgasm poising itself to explode through your body.

Jungkook’s hips started to stutter and become sloppy as he reached down between your bodies and began rubbing circles on your clit.

You arched your back off the floor, all of the sensations growing too much for you to handle.

With a few more expert thrusts, Jungkook threw you over the edge again. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung wide open, your climax so powerful that your whole body seized up as electricity shot through your nerves.

“Fuck!” Jungkook groaned as your walls convulsed around his cock, sending him into the throes of his own orgasm, painting your walls white as he emptied himself into you for a second time. He rode the both of you through your highs until your body went completely limp, basking in bliss.

Jungkook pulled out of you and reached up to brush the wet hair out of your face. His eyes softened, and he gazed at you lovingly, smiling at your completely fucked out state. “Better?”

A loud laugh erupted from your chest. “Yeah, much better,” you chuckled.

“Good.” Jungkook knelt down between your legs to admire the cum that was slowly dripping out of your pussy. He took a finger and tried to push it back inside you, but there was so much that it ended up forcing some of it back out. “You’re not allowed to clean this, understand? You have to sleep filled up with my cum tonight.”

“Ok Kookie.” You nodded your head lazily in acknowledgment and patted the piece of floor next to you, signaling Jungkook to lay down.

Jungkook crawled over to you and laid down, allowing you to rest your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

You melted into his body with a sigh.

After a few moments of silence a question popped into your head. “Why were all the lights off when I got home?”

Jungkook chuckled quietly. “If we’d made it to the bedroom you’d have found out.”

You perked you head up so that you could see Jungkook’s face. “What do you mean?”

“I set candles and stuff up in the room. Figured maybe our minds would clear up if we both weren’t so fuckin horny. But you had to go and be impatient like usual,” Jungkook said with a smirk as he stared at the ceiling.

You laid your head back on his chest, your eyelids becoming heavy. “I’m sorry about being kind of a bitch.”

Jungkook’s chest rose and fell underneath you as he took a deep breath. “It’s ok babygirl, I’m sorry too.” Jungkook gave you a tender kiss on the top of your head. “I love you.”

“I luh- you…too, Kookie,” you mumbled as sleep started to overtake you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into dreamland was Jungkook chuckling at your sleepy voice, and the ringtone you had set for Yoongi’s contact.

The gossip would have to wait until tomorrow.

↠ Masterlist

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chiimmchiimm · 5 years

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❝𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 !¡ 𝑜𝓃𝑒 ❞

CHAPTERS “ 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 “

The northern jail was the most dangerous in the country, social scum, thousands of criminals were locked behind their bars. Who would tell poor Blair that he would end up there because of his father’s mistake. The problem was not the lack of hot water, but that inhuman obsession that many of the prisoners had for “new toys.” Rookies had two options; be submissive and abide by veterans’ orders or suffer the dangerous anger of those disturbed minds. It all started one night when Blair had the bad idea of going to shower alone.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookoffender au x (female: Blair) 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut.(later), offender au, fluff, angst. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 5 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: abuse, domestic violence, painful memories, sadness, psychological abuse, dirty lenjuage. 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: This is my first novel on Tumblr, give it a lot of love and don’t forget to like it. The chapters will be uploaded weekly.

The sun dazzled much more that morning, its blinding light sneaked through the slits of the shutters halfway down giving a much more welcoming look to the living room of my parents’ house. Sitting on that white velvet sofa with a relatively steaming decaffeinated coffee on the side table. With my cheek resting heavily against the median kneecap to rest my head. The television broadcast the morning news of each day. It was the same as always; juicy gossip of some famous, unfortunate catastrophes about a natural disaster, exhaustively ridiculous scandals about some imprudent action of some human being.I got up ready to turn off that silly box that the only thing that could grant me was useless, but suddenly, photo information My father came out on the front page. My phone started ringing incessantly but I couldn’t stop staring at the screen with my mouth open when the journalist started listing all the charges that came related to our last name. I even covered my shocked mouth when a family photo appeared behind the woman. One where we all went out; Mom, he and me Mom wore a forced smile under her sad and dull eyes, my father’s hand wrapped her small waist with love, a feeling that only showed us when someone was present. A smaller me hooked on my father’s long neck with a brightly fierce emotion while teaching the few teeth he had back then. A sarcastic smile appeared early under my lips because that was the day I received my first slap.

As the stormy rains on cold winter days my life always revolved around the same routine. My father attended important events and my mother and I accompanied him to maintain his elitist family profile. However, it all ended when I turned eighteen. I put an endless number of excuses so as not to have to face those humiliating talks about the lowest society. I know my father didn’t believe me, of course, he can’t hurt my head every Friday at the same time. My mother always helped me and in the end, I got what I wanted; get away from him. The relationship with my father was never affectionate and that remains unchanged now in my twenties. Instead, a small part of me wanted to go to those extravagant meetings, not because of the chatter with those insipid people, but, for not leaving my mother alone who knew that they were not to her liking either. Still with her layers of makeup my mother could not cover the tracks that my father left on her delicate skin; the bruises, bruises, breaks … His overthrown gaze was the last thing I saw before falling asleep every night. I can never erase the time he hugged me so hard that my breath left my system, I knew from his trembling, that my father had unloaded his business failure with her.

“I left.” I whispered with my mouth against the cold surface of her skin. His arms dropped slowly when I separated from her. My tone was decisive, decisive, so that I understood that I was not talking about a simple possibility, but a solution. “You don’t deserve a son of a bitch to fuck you every night.”

But as expected, my mother ducked her head. And I knew that I shied away from my penetrating gaze because I knew that deep down I was right.

He took a long breath and then answered what I was so afraid of; “Everything I do is for you.”

I did not open my mouth again all night, just lend him my back to release his helplessness with continuous crying. He understood why he did it but did not support it. I know that he wanted to give me the best education and the best luxuries, but at what price? I would gladly give up all the comforts that had been given to me as long as his suffering ended. But I knew that I was a motive but not the most relevant. My father was. I know I was afraid of him and that he justified every abuse with all kinds of inconceivable excuses. And for that crude reason, my mother always ended up being dragged by my father.

What I never thought, is that, I would also be dragged by him.

“Are you aware that you face a penalty of seven years and two months in prison?”

Everything happened so fast, that man spoke so fast. I was barely aware of the sporadic overturn that I had just given my life. And he regretted not having tasted that coffee better because from the face of that man he could deduce that it would be the last one he would drink in a long time. The prosecutor leaned a hand on the table in the interrogation room to get my attention, but the only thing he looked at was the bumps on the bricks of the white wall. The tears gathered in my eyes. The low fluidity of my breathing. And the dolls burned by the touch of the cold metal of the wives. I couldn’t even understand lucidly if he said anything else or it was just pure invention of my mind. The whitish light that came from the laminated ceiling lamps produced a frightening buzz that, to my bad luck, blocked all the orders of my central nervous system, keeping me completely stretched in a chair that, however uncomfortable, was much better than the filthy bed of The dungeons What did he want me to tell him what was innocent? He had already repeated it to satiety and seemed not to care in the least, even, I was able to absorb an improper satisfaction of a good lawyer when hearing the judge’s sentence.

Emphasizing time again, everything happened too quickly, so much that I could barely be aware that my feet were directing my body towards an unknown room. When my watery eyes read inmates I could be aware, again, of how much life could change in a matter of seconds.

“Turn it off as soon as possible and memorize the pin well, you may not remember in seven years.”

Look closely as my phone offered. However, the blow of the white tray against the table made me divert attention to the tattooed girl behind the counter. A girl with bluish hair that carefully removed the clothes while playing with a pen balancing it inside her mouth. A tap on my abdomen made me regain my composure. When I accepted my phone back I turned it off and gave it to the governor.

“Look, all size 38, okay?” And there are six complete molts included. ”The blue hair announced, making a small pout with her lips. I lift a small transparent plastic bag while showing me one by one the garments that would be my wardrobe from now on. I had changed my channel suits and my row tracksuits for a yellow jacket and pants of the same color. But without a doubt, what caught my attention was the white clothes that were in another bag.

“Hey, I brought my own underwear.” The ruler observed me immediately. “I have sensitive skin.”

The girl stopped moving things to lift her head and stare at me. Blue — since his hair wore that vivid color and he didn’t know his name. ”He intensified a line with his lips as he tightened all the features of his face. He looked at me as if he had said the worst atrocity in the world. And I certainly did not understand why he was so serious when he had said nothing wrong. It was not my fault that my skin did not support polyester, if someone wanted to blame it, then it is my strange allergy to poor quality materials. One that left me full of small red spots along my entire epidermis and an unbearable itching for three days.

“Well,_ Barbie_, we’re all the same here.” He commented mockingly. I frowned at her derogatory nickname, however, I couldn’t protest because at the moment the ruler broke into our little discussion, if we refer to her as an eloquent little talk in which I have been left as a weak and silly girl who has been belittled and he has not had the courage to defend himself.

“What is this?”

By the time I wanted to realize what was happening I already had the bottle of my vitamins being opened by the long fingers of that woman. I reacted immediately with a babble that all I reflected was how much that shit situation could.

“No, no, that’s not a drug. It’s nothing weird, it’s just royal jelly.” As I was speaking the words piled up under my tongue and my trembling made the language come out much less fluently than I expected. However, the governor raised her eyebrows as if my version of the echos was not given as true. On the other hand, blue was making fun of my nerves again with a low smile that hid while scratching her bulging hair. I felt the need to explain myself again and I did so; “It is to reinforce defenses.”

“Forty pills?” He asked so wryly that question that I was speechless. I moved, to the laugh of blue that increased my beginner’s nerves. “What will you do when they run out?”

“Man, I expected to be out when that will happen.”

But my answer falls like a vol of cold water. Then, I realize that I thought out loud. And that blue has not stopped laughing at any moment of my blunder and that now has made his laugh level up. I don’t know what I have to say to fix things, because I literally just expressed my wishes to get out of here, however, I don’t see anything wrong with that but apparently she does resent my sincerity. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be in this crappy place and endure the laughter of a criminal who does nothing but make fun of me.

For my luck, everything is there. In a little anecdote that will happen to the most shameful periods of my existence.

I pick up the tray with disgust because it didn’t look like it but it has its weight and I walk down a corridor that only leads in one direction. First, the governor enters and then I do it. I thank you ironically for the galantia of holding the door while I eat the stiffness of the glass with my mouth.

“Put the clothes on that tray when you’re done and make sure you don’t keep anything.”

Seat. Really, he won nothing by arguing with a woman who is in sight that has a character of a thousand demons. Better keep quiet and follow your orders as fast as I can. I have to change in front of her. And I thank heaven that she is a woman and not a man because she certainly would not have been able to stay naked in front of the opposite gender. Then, I move again to a room that was next to the old one to go through a metal detector machine. As you can see I don’t wear anything, he relaxes in a padlocked sigh. Poor woman, I have a feeling that you don’t usually pay much attention here. Finally, I understood that my little excursion is over when I have in front of me the automatic doors that would open my module.

Then, the governor turns to a guard who appears behind a counter.

“Open the door, I bring the new one.”

The girl presses a button and the metal doors open. The governor shakes her head to tell me to go ahead. Breathing a sigh from my own emotional instability, I shake my shoulders and walk right. However, when I hear the fortuitous noises of things being hit against the metal I remain planted on the site which causes the government to almost clash with me.

“What do you think you are doing?” “Is he not listening to the hustle and bustle that prisoners are riding?

“I can’t.” I deny uncontrollably, to the point, of almost injuring my neck when I turn from side to side. The governor places her hands at each end of her hip while looking at me with obvious discomfort. “Please.”

But my plea seems to fill his patience and the only thing that I achieve with my actions is that I push myself sharply and fall face down on the ground. And then, chaos breaks loose. The blows increase in level. I do not even look at the grotesque spectacle of which my ears are witnesses because in the story I wake up I try to run away backwards but collide with the governor and I almost fall again.

“Do you want to be still, fuck?”

“I’m innocent …” he said for the twentieth time in the day.

“Pick up the floor tray and move on.” - order. I withdraw what has been said above, this lady is a witch. He gives a fuck that he is giving me a little anxiety attack. I make sure of it when I narrow my eyes. He is throwing small threats with his gestures and I have no choice but to pick up the forgotten tray on the floor.

“Newbie!” You eat rabbit tonight.

He ducked his head and keep going.

“Go here, rule!”

-Pretty! Hey you!

I decipher a shout through the crowd and instantly regret having done it. And much more to divert the head towards the alleged culprit because the first thing my eyes see is a woman shaved and tattooed to the neck making with her fingers the shape of a vagina and passing the tongue in between. The one next to him laughs at the terrified reaction I do. I quickly simulate an arcade frightened by that grotesque insinuation.

But the worst was yet to come.

-Brunette! I’m going to give you until I’m dry!

“What a gift from Santa Claus!”

He panicked.

The governor stretches again because I have stopped again. Then, I raise my head and look at the top railings. My eyeballs widen to the point of almost leaving the site. I drop my tray when I see the stacked row of sweaty bodies controlled by testosterone looking at me directly. Their dirty and perverse glances cover the little skin that leaves prison clothes in sight. By instinct I hug myself but I can’t get the anguish to go away. When the governor who is behind me realizes that I have stayed at the site of disgust, she pushes me slightly forward to finish climbing the stairs.

“I would like to be a sardine to swim in your vagina!”

“Cell 345!”

I don’t even know who said that because my head didn’t lift it from the ground at any time. The incessant compliments do not stop disturbing my auditory ducts as I go up the steps. For a moment, I think I hear the government’s sigh but I am not sure if it was his or mine because I could barely distinguish another sound other than the bellowing of those disgusting men. Their throats were torn by the volume so high that they used to get my attention, what they did not know, that this was not the first time that he faced this type of situation and that he would not fall for his provocations. Therefore, when I thought I could worthy of raising my head I could realize that my luck had just taken a wonderful course because I was facing the opposite direction of that tangle of apes in heat.

The governor took out an orange card and passed through the magnetic sensor of the door. The noise of that steel structure stimulated my blood velocity and that my eyes responded by closing tightly. With nerves accumulating in the small lump of my throat I took the first step towards those four walls that would now be my home.

A dark-haired girl under the bed as soon as I set foot in the small cell. But he didn’t look at me, but at the ruler.

“Boss, there must have been a mistake.” The rookie goes in another cell here we are complete. ”He explained, pausing the tone of his voice to give it a much deeper touch. What gave me the most curiosity about his vocal bell was that he was adorned with the typical accent of foreigners. The white-skinned girl stood in front of me to cut my step while pointing her finger back. Her black straight hair covered her cheeks slightly while she covered her shoulders with neglect. He had long legs and thin arms under the sleeves of the yellow jacket. Small and thin lips, and a feline look that left me blank when I looked at myself for two seconds. My arms trembled unconsciously because I could perfectly perceive a warning glow.

—Blair London is assigned to this cell. Come London leave your stuff on that shelf and make your bed.

“Still rookie.”

When I took a step that girl got in my way.

“Do what I told you, London.”

“Do not do it.”

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Do it London.”

“No,” he whispered in such a dark tone that a paralyzing chill caressed my back.

I instinctively shrunk my body when that girl spit her breath over my face. Swallow nervous saliva, an act that did not go unnoticed by her. A small macabre smile greeted his features when he felt the tremor of my fingers holding the tray. I counted mentally to slow my shortness of breath but all I could get was to get his attention more.

“Do you think that because we let you smoke in here, you’re going to do whatever you want?”

When the authoritarian voice of the governor reached my ears, my back slumped forward. The palms of my hands began to sweat and my mood deteriorated at times. At this point it didn’t matter if I hid my stress because it was no longer a viable option.

“I’m just informing the module manager that we’re very tight here and if one more inmate comes in, maybe she has to sleep on the floor.” Yes or no, girls?

As he leaned to the side to see the governor directly, I could see what was behind her. Two more girls inhabited the room. One of them with much longer and darker hair was placed behind her to support what she said. The other, almost white hair and extremely white skin, sobbed and trembled almost as much as I did while swaying on the mattress with a rosary sticking out of her thin fingers. The first, nodded in a gesture of security while the other prayed in low whispers. When he saw that he was saying nothing he approached and hit him in the head.

“Answer the hell!”

“Yes-yes.” I stutter exaggeratedly. I separate her head from her shoulders and when I look at her cellmates I can see two superficial cuts, one on her lower lip and the other on her left cheek. What the fuck had they done? Really, he looked like a scared little animal about to be hunted. I felt so bad for that girl. My empathy had caused me to give him a look full of sadness.

“I’ll take the new one so you don’t make her life bitter.” The governor informed her, snapping her tongue as she gave a sideways glance at the Asian girl. However, when I thought I could finally run away from that awkward situation, the governor ended the encounter with a warning; - You think you have everything under Akame control but be very careful.— Then, I touch my shoulder to drag myself out of the cell.

“Why don’t you look at your phone, govern?” And then we talk about who’s in charge here and who has to be careful.

The woman deformed her expression to a calmer one as if those words had not affected her. But both the dark-haired girl and I knew that they had done it, and maybe for that reason, I didn’t even answer him and he took me out of there as fast as he could. Should I thank you for getting me out of that place? Definitely yes.

But before I finished showing my thanks, a tall, dark young man passed by our side. His presence seemed to startle her so much that she almost collided with me. Then he watched me a few seconds before calling the guard.

“Garcia.”

The boy turned.

“Can you take the new one to his cell?” The brunette nodded. “I don’t find myself well.

“Clear.”

The governor handed him the folder with my personal data and shot out down the hall as if an important matter was waiting for him. Would it have to do with the threat of that girl? Something told me yes.

We did not walk much, we passed two cells and stood in the third. Again, panic began to cloud my system. The air to miss me. And my knees to shake getting my balance was required immediately not to fall. I didn’t want to find another one like that girl. Was it that there was no one normal in this prison shit? All of a sudden, my nerves played tricks on me because my mouth opened to confess what I had been keeping since I crossed the courthouse door.

“I can’t.” I ran over.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I need to see a doctor.”

I don’t know if it sounded too exaggerated but I definitely didn’t want to get in there.

“Do you have tremors? Blurry vision? Dizziness Cramps? Chest pain?″

"Em, no.” I blinked as I lost myself among so many symptoms.

“Well, then nothing happens to you.” Not caring about my facial pallor, he swiped his orange card through the sensor and again, my eyes closed at the squeak of the door. He held the folder against his chest and said, “Blair London.Cell two twenty five.”

Any motor movement that my body could make seemed to have left my head. My quick breathing lifted my chest at an excessive rate denoting on the front page how nervous I was to find myself again. I took the first step into the cell. A girl of short and slender stature rose up from her bed, drawing the attention of the other two. He removed his short tinted hair from a light brown back as he glanced at his companions. A middle-aged woman who put her hand on her left leg while leaning towards my paralyzed figure examining me with curiosity and another girl with extremely pale skin much younger than the two previously mentioned behind the main culprit of my partial blush of cheeks. The aftertaste of my saliva was bitter from so many chills that ran through my little body. Too overwhelming pressure seized the area near my stomach when the bars of the cell covered the door leaving me without escape. Locked up with those three women. And above all, locked in my desperate destiny.

"I am Dallas.”

I jumped a little when I returned to my horrible reality. The low voice of that girl woke me up completely. He stretched his hand politely towards me while he leaned slightly and smiled as if we were two friends and not two inmates of the worst prison in Los Angeles. No doubt that girl was too confident. But, nevertheless, his singular sympathy for strangers was something that I sincerely thanked. I finally accepted his hand and although I could not return a smile for my state away from joy, at least, stimulate a small grimace under my dry lips.

“I am Blair, delighted.” I said, controlling the small tremor in my voice thanks to the timely appearance of my self-control. Finally, I could smile. I leaned uncomfortably towards her cheek to kiss her kindly, Dallas understood my action and we ended up giving two cheek kisses as a way of civilized greeting. The air came out of my mouth unconsciously to calm the nervous spasms I still suffered from the two pairs of eyes that saw the scene from a distance.

The second to speak was the oldest of the four.

“Where are you from, my girl?”

“From here, from Los Angeles.”

But the child’s sudden laughter stopped my response.

“No, why are you here?” He replied, pausing the space of the words he spoke. The mockery danced for her serene features, clearly, emphasizing my poor understanding. His hands flew into his pockets, dragging the fabric of his yellowish pants. His shirt ran down. The mark of his bony clavicle denoted how much he lacked a good diet. She was extremely thin compared to the weight she should have with her height. I tilt his thin leg to support his body while sweeping my perfectly buttoned shirt.

“Ah.” I issued the monosyllable with caution. “I really shouldn’t be here.” I am here for a mistake.

“And how many years have you fallen for the mistake?” Dallas asked as she adjusted the jacket of her uniform to her liking. Glancing under the eyes of complices with the smallest in his enjoyment for making me feel uncomfortable.

“Seven.” I murmured under my breath. My body shrank because the teasing did not take long to appear. Making such a big scandal that the guard soon appeared to get our attention with some blows on the bars. I was upset, however, not surprised. Neither the judge nor the ruler had believed in my innocence, did I really think they would be different? I should get used to the teasing since it seemed to be his favorite hobby. I headed for the only empty bed in that small cell. Through that tide of laughter and groans that cause my internal discomfort. I thought it was best to ignore them and I did that while I stretched the sheets.

“Do you want to keep laughing in isolation, June?” The guard’s authoritative voice appeared behind them. His warning to the smallest had been like the extinguisher that turned off his fun.

“You are very bitter, Garcia.”

Immediately, Liberty seconded his mischief.

“This is what you need is a good dust, Dallas.”

“That you be silent!”

He gave another blow as a warning resulting in the two friends separating. Liberty raised her arms signing the peace. The youngest, just climbed on the bed above mine and jumped down.

“Get in bed and sleep, mommy.”

I watched in a flash as the woman’s hand rested on my shoulder. His hand adorned with slight wrinkles and small skin spots had been the closest thing to human contact he had had in hours. And even if we were unknown, I was able to spot some tenderness in his touch. As if his words were not an order, if not, an advice that I should follow for my good. The woman had a very intense green-eyed look. There was something in those lifeless pupils that told me that I had suffered a lot in life. And for a few seconds, that woman reminded me of my mother.

“Thank you but … I don’t think I can sleep.” I confessed, undoing my usual hue at a lower one.

The heat of my shoulder disappeared when he removed his hand and turned around. A bleak emptiness stifled my body after lack of contact. I lay down slowly on the mattress while following the woman’s movement carefully. When he finished going to bed, he looked at me one last time and sighed. As if guessing all the problems that crossed my mind.

“The first night is the most difficult. If you can’t sleep, talk to God, he always listens to us.”

A bitter smile crossed my lips when the woman turned her back on me. I didn’t want to be rude and much less after he had treated me so well, for that very reason I kept quiet. I crossed my fingers over my stomach but comfort was not something I felt at that moment. I closed my eyes for several minutes to see if the dream was beating my anguish but the only thing I got was to overwhelm myself under the covers. I removed my body until I lay on my side. When my eyes met the white wall it was as if everything would make sense. It filled my mouth saying that this shit had been a mistake. But deep down I understood the mockery of that pale girl. And if you look at it from another perspective it was quite pathetic. I could say all that convinced but that didn’t make it easier. I knew that my father had screwed up my life and that as much as the woman told me that praying would help solve my problems, I made another crude excuse for not accepting reality.

The lack of weight from the mattress above distracted my hypnosis with the wall. When I turned my body slightly I could see through the little clarity that Dallas had come down from his bed. How I was covered up to the nose I could see the scene before me without realizing that I was still awake. He reached out and with the tip of his finger pressed the button on the bars. Out of nowhere a much taller figure appeared and Dallas threw forward enthusiastically. The last thing I saw before they left was a tattoo of a small heart on the wrist of the tallest.

✞

107 notes · View notes

gingerpeachtae · 5 years

Text

Concentric [12]

masterlist

Words: 7.4k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: extreme violence/depictions of death up in this bish

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: If only I enjoyed writing fluff as much as I enjoy writing this stuff lol. Sorry it took me awhile to get this cranked out but here ya go! Please engoy and send me your thoughts! 💙

It had been over a minute since Jungkook left, yet you were still staring at the spot where he disappeared into the darkness of the forest. It was between two thick trees, one of which had a vine creeping up the side, and a branch was stretched across the opening. You remembered how he had placed one hand on the branch while ducking his head to go beneath it, all the while still not looking back.

The wind rustled the leaves and tall grass around you, causing the delicate green blades to lightly graze your legs. You shivered at the contact. It made you recall how lightly Jungkook had trailed his fingers against your skin. How it had made your body tingle and your breaths to come out in short gasps. You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your face away from the opening between those two trees, trying to block the memory out. Trying to block him out. You could hear Tae and Hobi shifting their feet beside you, probably unsure of what to do or say to you. Another gust of wind sent your hair dancing across your face and with a tiny, frustrated exhale you grabbed at it and held it back.

Tae, in a voice as soft as the moonlight, called out your name, which made you slowly ease your eyes open and release your hair. You took a few seconds to calm your breathing before looking his way. Both he and Hobi had their eyes on you, their faces a mix of confusion, intrigue, and guilt.

“So…” Hobi began awkwardly, pursing his lips and pulling out one of the blades of his forearm to toy with.

“So what?” You tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew that you were failing miserably. “You heard him. We were… sparing.”

Tae frowned while Hobi sighed and returned his blade to its sheath before crossing his arms and raising his chin so that he was looking slightly down at you. It was a daunting look and so different from his typically cheerful expression. For the first time, you felt like his demeanor matched his outfit.

You gulped and looked down, not wanting to face his intimidating stare that was obviously calling your bullshit. You didn’t elaborate, though. It wasn’t exactly easy to say you had almost canoodled with their brother not once, but twice. That both times left you extremely confused yet turned on. That regardless of him being a rude asshat and basically insulting you, you were wanting more. That you had no idea what either of you were doing, let alone feeling.

How could you explain something that you couldn’t begin to understand yourself?

Noticing your lack of response, Tae came up to you and grabbed your hand before suggesting heading back to the village to go to sleep. “And you can tell us what happened on the way, okay?”

You nodded your consent and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

The three of you began walking away from the moon-lit clearing and into the darkness of the trees. Hobi came up to your other side and snatched your free hand in his. He started swinging your clasped hands back and forth through the air but didn’t ask you any more questions. Both he and Tae just held your hands and walked in silence, waiting until you were ready to talk.

After raking your brain for several minutes for the best way to approach and word the situation, you hesitantly opened your mouth and told them what happened. But only the basics and none of the explicit details. So essentially, you told them how you and Jungkook had gotten, erm, close after the training seminar but were interrupted like how you were just were again and afterwards, he keeps highlighting how he doesn’t find you attractive because your human and blah blah blah.

“Aish, that kid.” Hobi grumbled and blew a raspberry.

You expelled a puff of air and removed your hands from theirs so you could press them against your head stressfully. “I mean… it’s okay if he doesn’t think I’m pretty or whatever, I just…”

The white-haired Saeni nodded in understanding. “You’re just confused because his actions differ from his words.”

You gave your hair a tug in frustration as you confirmed Hobi’s statement.

“I think he may just be scared,” the other Saeni with you said.

You peeked at Tae curiously. “Of what?”

Since your eyes were no longer watching where you were going, you tripped over who knows what and quickly grabbed his arm to steady yourself.

“Of you,” he replied with a smile as he helped you regain your footing.

“Why the heck would he be scared of me?”

The two males gave each other a knowing look before Tae said that Jungkook should be the person to tell you why.

You huffed and stepped over a pile of twigs, wondering how much further until you made it back to the village.

Why did I have to walk so fucking far?

All you wanted to do was cuddle with Tae and be lulled to sleep by his soft snores and the sound of a crackling fire. That was all you fucking wanted right now. But alas, you just had to make things difficult for yourself and walk eons away from the village.

You licked your lips as you moved a branch out of your face. You decided you didn’t want to talk about him anymore. You were tired, pretty much emotionally drained, and he was so annoying you were this close to getting a migraine.

Glancing at the male beside you, you coughed before lightly clapping your hands together as you stepped around a tree inconveniently in your way. “Since we’re on the lovely topic of, uh, feelings and being confused and whatnot… how are things going with you, Hobi?”

He sighed deeply and brought out another knife, twirling it in his hand.

Tae, on the other hand, drew his eyebrows in a curious manner. “How’s what going?”

Shit, does Tae not know?

You sent a sheepish look to the older Saeni, raising your shoulders a bit apologetically, but he just glumly hummed.

“I… I don’t know. He’s been acting weird lately and fidgeting a lot. Maybe he found out and is uncomfortable with me now.” He picked at his nails with the knife, a frown evident on his face.

Fucking hell, Mr. Sparkle Hands. Looks like I need to have a talk with him and his shitty flirting technique.

“Wait… what are we talking about?”

You went over to Tae, who had stopped walking in his confusion, and grabbed his arm to get him moving again. “Um, it’s nothing you need to worry about TaeTae. Promise.”

You could sense Tae pouting; he didn’t like being kept out of the loop, but he also knew when to leave something be.

You then turned to Hobi and gave him the best reassuring smile you could muster. “I’m sure everything will be okay.”

He sent you a smile back, but it wasn’t quite as sunny as it usually was. Then, he returned the blade to its home and braced his hands on a fallen log before jumping over the obstacle, you and Tae soon following suit.

The three of you walked on in relative silence after that until you finally made it back to the village. The low light of the many fires spread throughout the area alerting you of your arrival. As you neared, you looked around to see where everyone was. First, you caught sight of Jin and Namjoon speaking and laughing with some of the villagers straight ahead. You let your gaze shift to the right, where you saw the one and only asshat sitting in front of one of the fires, his arms resting against his knees with his head hanging low. The orange light from the fire flickered across his features, but you couldn’t make out his expression. Across from him, Yoongi sat with his back to you. From your angle you couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like they were having a serious conversation since Yoongi kept gesturing and Jungkook was continuously huffing. You stilled as you watched them, wondering what they were discussing. Beside you, you heard Hobi take in a deep breath as he squared his shoulders then began making his way toward them. At his approach, Jungkook lazily tilted his head up to greet his brother, but saw you standing in the background. His head shot upright and he opened his mouth slightly like he wanted to say something, but you abruptly turned away, acting like you hadn’t seen him.

The new scene you were looking at, though, wasn’t much better. Your eyes landed on Jimin and Jiae, who were still huddled close while her guards watched them from behind. Seeing them together made you remember why you left in the first place as you felt a fresh flood of hurt stab your chest. Quickly averting your gaze to the ground, you tried to subdue the internal pain.

Tae nudged you tenderly. “Hey, come on, little scorja. Let’s go to bed.”

You let him tug you away from the others and over to the fire where you had left your things in a dazed state. You snapped out of it when he started rolling out your sleeping mat and blanket, protesting that you could do it yourself. He just shushed you and told you to wait and let him do it.

Once finished, he instructed you to lay down and get comfortable while he got his things. Following his orders, you nestled into your blanket and put one arm behind your head to stare up at the night sky. You started counting the stars, hoping it would distract your mind and make you drowsy.

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen…

You felt Tae drop down beside you and ask if you were good. You gave him a limp thumbs up in response, not looking away from the stars, and he murmured a sweet good night before wrapping his arms around you and letting his breaths grow heavy. As you felt his arms around you relax into sleep, you let your head loll to the side and take in the empty space next to you. You did nothing but look at the empty spot for several seconds, just thinking. Then, with a deep inhale through your nose, you returned your gaze to the endless black expanse high above you.

Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two…

Some hours later, you were roused from your magnificent dream of eating copious amounts of mozzarella sticks by a gentle sensation trailing against your jaw. You stirred, groaning slightly, and went to wiggle your body to the side to return to your cheesy dream, but something held you down. You were forced to remain on your back, but you didn’t think much of it. It was probably just Tae clinging to you. After a few seconds of trying and failing to fall back into a slumber, the sensation against your jaw became heavier and more familiar. You stirred once more and began to register a presence looming above you.

“I’m sorry…” You heard a voice you recognized whisper.

Cracking your eyes open, you saw a blur of burgundy and a flash of peridot in the low light of the fire’s dying embers.

Jungkook?

You couldn’t make out anything else besides him. He was all you could see; everything else was absorbed in a dark, rich black. You couldn’t even make out the moon or the stars. He was beside you, in the spot he usually took up that was empty when you went to sleep. In the back of your mind, you wondered why he even bothered coming over after he left you earlier. But the thought was lost as he brought a hand up to thread through your hair and cradle the back of your head. Although your mind was still cloudy, you automatically tilted your head into his hand to give his mouth better access to your skin.

You knew you shouldn’t be letting him do this. You really, really shouldn’t. You knew that. But you couldn’t find the will to push him away. You couldn’t bring yourself to make him stop.

“I’m sorry.” He continued to work his lips against your jaw, kissing the skin gently.

It was warm outside, though you couldn’t help but shiver with every movement of his mouth. Occasionally, he nipped at your throat before smoothing his tongue over the bitten skin, making your breath hitch. He was probably leaving marks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you wanted to reach up and touch him too, but your limbs felt sluggish, like you were dragging them underwater through a current. Maybe it was because you were just brought out of a deep sleep? You closed your eyes to concentrate, but you still felt like you were lagging. You just weren’t able to raise your hands.

His sinful ministrations weren’t helping you focus either. The hot air of his ragged breaths hit your skin as his lips dragged until they hit a certain sweet spot that left you gasping and trembling. He paused briefly, most likely smirking to himself, before diving back in.

Cocky asshat… but what is he…? Isn’t Tae right next to us?

You tried to turn your head to check, but his hand held you firmly in place as he sucked harshly at that one spot. The feeling made your eyes roll back in your head and you released a delicate whimper.

“I’m sorry…” He bit down gently, no doubt leaving another mark to join the others. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want… it’s just that I…”

He stilled his actions and you felt him pull back.

“… I don’t want you.”

All the air in your lungs was suddenly expelled as you snapped your eyes open to look at him in disbelief. His green eyes were already locked on yours, staring at you deeply, but it seemed like there was no emotion behind his. It didn’t look right.

He stared directly at you as he continued. “Nobody does.”

You felt a lash of pain course through you and borough into your heart. With eyes wide in shock, you tried to push him off, but you still couldn’t move your arms. The more you struggled, the heavier and more sluggish they became. You couldn’t move your arms, your legs, your head. You couldn’t look away from his gaze. Dead green eyes and a never-ending blackness behind him. That was all you could see. It was suffocating.

“Even your own best friend doesn’t want you. He has no need for you anymore.”

A lump formed in your throat and tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes.

No… stop…

“Nobody needs you. Nobody wants you.”

You wanted to shrink and hide, but you couldn’t. You were trapped. Unable to move. Caught in his arms and gaze. From behind his head, the endless black background began to grow and pulsate. Tendrils of black smoke began to curl around the edge of his handsome face and enwrap his form. It moved as if it had a mind of its own. As if it was alive. With each beat of your heart, it expanded. You felt like you couldn’t catch your breath, not past your choked-up throat and the increasing pace of your inhales. You were stuck looking at Jungkook’s face as it began to crack and reveal small rivers of smoky darkness underneath his skin. His mouth slowly morphed into a small, manic smile as the cracks traveled across the expanse of his face and reached his eyes. The white of his sclera was shattered by rivulets of night as the cracks and smoke invaded his orbs. In mere seconds, the green of his irises was gone, and he stared at you with obsidian eyes. You watched in horror as he began to cry a semi-translucent black. The liquid trailed down his cheeks, some of it branching off and following the cracks in his face. It trailed down, down, down until it dripped off his chin. You flinched, expecting to feel the drops hit your face, but when they fell, they turned back into wisps of smoke.

Which then began to curl down toward you.

The entire time, Jungkook just maintained that twisted grin on his face while observing you with blank, dark eyes.

“J-jungkook…” You tried to break free from the heaviness weighing you down, but you had no progress.

His unhinged smile grew wider, causing more cracks to appear on his skin.

More smoke.

More struggle.

“Jungkook, stop!” Your body shook as you tried to move away.

The smoke was almost touching you now, dancing just above your nose, and he was still just looking down at you with dead, onyx eyes. With a jolt, you felt yourself start to sink into the ground, like the earth was pulling you down.

“Jungkook! Kookie!” Tears leaked down the side of your face as you begged. “Please!”

His unnerving smile faded until his lips were set in a straight line and he tilted his head to the side. “You need to wake up and realize that nobody wants you.”

All you could do was sob as you were drowned in smoke and earth. You weren’t even struggling anymore. What was the point? You just cried as you were swallowed by the dark. The obscuring black overtaking your vision. You could barely make out Jungkook.

“You need to wake up, Y/N.” His voice echoed down to you.

Nobody needs me…

“Wake up!”

Nobody wants me…

“Y/N, wake the fuck up!”

You jolted awake, upper body rising from the ground quickly as you gasped for breath and felt the solid earth beneath you. No smoke. No sinking.

A dream. It was just a dream…

Your eyes darting around, trying to get your bearings but not able to fixate on anything. All you could make out was blurs of brown, black, red, green, blue, white, grey, and orange. You felt a weight on each of your shoulders give you a hard shake and you blinked numerous times as you registered a person in front of you. Burgundy hair. Green eyes. Jungkook.

“What’s g-”

He gave you another forceful shake, rattling your brain. “Fucking Illai, would you get up!? They’re coming!”

Huh?

You blinked a few more times, finally focusing fully on the male and your surroundings. The first thing you saw was his steeled face, then his worried eyes. He moved to cradle your face with both hands but looked away from you as someone called his name. You realized there was yelling all around you. Frantic and rushed.

“What’s going on?”

He looked back at you and whipped the blanket off your legs, allowing the cool air of the early morning to attack your lower limbs.

The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon and you could see the other members of the kiela grabbing their weapons and running further into the village.

“You need to get up. Get your bow and follow me. Now.”

He let go of your face and you haphazardly made it to your feet as he explained, “Some villagers spotted a large group of draikensu headed this way.”

Oh… oh SHIT.

You placed the strap for your quiver over your head and on your shoulder, grabbed your bow, and dug through your backpack as fast as possible to find your daily petals. Ripping the small side pocket open, you grabbed them and stuffed the delicate objects into your mouth, shaking slightly as their magic assaulted your freshly awakened and still freaked out mind. Before the effects even subsided, you rose and nodded at the male, who grabbed your hand and began pulling you along. As you marched past the various shacks, animal pens, and structures, you saw the villagers hurriedly gathering their belongings and trying to reinforce their homes. Some were grabbing whatever rustic weapons they could find, and others were trying to help direct the flow of scared Saeni rushing down the paths. At the heart of the village, you saw the kiela grouped together as they listened to Namjoon. The leader was pointing in various directions and at various members, probably giving them orders.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook led you past them and toward a large shack that was being filled with the village’s children and parents who were unable to fight. Their frightened screams and cries began to full your ears and you looked to Jungkook in absolute disbelief as he brought you toward the doorway.

You tried to yank your hand out of his. “You can’t be serious! I’m not going to hide in there while you’re out here figh-”

He cut your words off as he yanked you around to face him and grasped your biceps. “Shut up and listen. You’re not going in there, you’re going to guard it. You and Mingi.” He tipped his chin toward Jiae’s guard, who you hadn’t noticed before.

He was helping direct the children and parents into the wooden structure. He appeared calm, but you could tell he was trying to get them to move their asses a bit faster. Jungkook suddenly gave you a shake, bringing your attention back to him.

“Jiae is in there too, part of the reason Mingi is watching it while the others help us. Just find a hiding spot and take out any fuckers who try to get close. But do not… do not engage with anyone who isn’t an immediate threat to you or the kids, okay? Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

His green eyes softened momentarily, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but you heard Namjoon calling for him.

With a sigh, his eyes hardened once more and he whispered, “Just be careful.”

Then, he turned and ran back in the direction of the kiela, leaving you to deal with a lot of panicking Saeni.

As you stared after him, you felt someone bump into you. Quickly, you broke your eyes away and reached out to steady the frantic female holding a small baby in her arms. She locked her eyes with yours and began hyperventilating, asking what she should do, where she should go. With a gentle hand and comforting words, you guided her to the entrance of the shack. Once safely inside, you turned to Mingi and gave him a questioning look. He described how two young villagers spotted the draikensu while hunting this morning and ran back to alert everyone. With how far away they had been when they saw them and how much time had passed since, they should be arriving at any minute.

Okay. Cool cool cool cool cool. Let’s keep it calm and composed, Y/N.

A few more Saeni and their children arrived at the shack while others were still running around with weapons or toward their homes. You had no idea where the kiela was or what they were doing. Hell, you had no idea what you were doing.

“Y/N!”

You looked up through the doorway and saw Jiae with a young boy in her arms looking at you over the crowd. You met her wide, frightened eyes and did your best to send her a reassuring smile as she was forced further into the back to make room for the last arriving additions. With how your mind was reeling and emotions were running, your smile might have come out as a grimace, though.

“Everyone get inside!” You heard someone yell in the distance, making the worried kids and parents stuffed inside the building cry out.

Shit. Shit. Shit. They must be here.

Ushering in the last Saeni, a father holding the hand of his daughter, you waved your arms frantically to get everyone’s attention. It took several seconds, though, as many of them were too scared to focus properly.

Once you had most of their eyes on you, you brought a finger to your lips and softly said, “You all need to stay very quiet, okay? I know you’re scared and it’s going to sound scary too, but it’s very important that you stay quiet.”

Jiae, majority of the parents, and a few of the older kids nodded, and they began trying to console and hush those who were blubbering and shrieking. Knowing you didn’t have the time to do or say anything else, you hastily closed the door and you heard someone bar it on the other side. Stepping away from the door, you locked eyes with Mingi, who gave you a curt nod and unsheathed his sword before taking up a position directly in front of the shack.

Alright, find a hiding spot. Find a hiding spot. Come on.

You did a 360-degree turn, taking in the now barren village and trying to decide where you should go. Spotting an opening with a protected back, you jogged to a nearby building and crouched down behind a pile of empty, wooden crates. They were stacked in an ‘L’ shape, providing you a clear view of Mingi as well as the pathway to the right of the shack. Your back was covered by the building itself and if you needed to, you could retreat further into the corner so that your front and left sides were protected too.

Let’s hope that years of camping in Call of Duty will come in handy here. You thought as you reached back to grab an arrow and loosely notch it.

You shifted on your feet as you heard yells and strikes of metal against metal start to erupt around you. The unmistakable screams of dying people already echoing in your ears. You lightly practiced your draw as the soft morning light was occasionally broken up by brief flashes of mint blue. You couldn’t see what was happening from your position, you could only hear the rising chaos. You didn’t know how many draikensu there were, in which direction they were attacking from, or what the kiela’s plan was. You could only stay where you were and listen. You tilted your head up to look over the crates to see if Mingi had any sort of plan, but he was focused on observing his surroundings.

Apparently, his plan was just to wait and take down whoever came by.

Okay, breathe. You can do that. Just get ready.

You felt your heart start to beat harder and harder and harder as you waited. Your palms began to sweat as you took deep breaths, trying to calm your raging pulse as the world went to shit around you.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of feet racing against the earth and through the slits in the crates to your left, you saw a smudge dart past. Peeking over the crates, you mentally prepared yourself to pull your bowstring back, but found it unnecessary as Mingi cleaved through the Saeni in one, powerful stroke of his sword. He slashed down diagonally, causing blood to spill onto the dirt while the Saeni spun as she fell with a pained cry. She collapsed and twitched once before stilling permanently; her blood pooling beneath her and soaking into the earth. Hearing an outraged yell from your right, you whipped your head in that direction and saw a male charging down the path toward Mingi.

Fuck!

Luckily, he hadn’t seen you yet, as you were tucked into the corner and his eyes were only fixated on his dead comrade. You turned your body, still crouched down, and drew your bowstring back. You did your best to breath out slowly and focus your aim despite the adrenaline and fear singing through your veins. With a shaky breath, you released the arrow and gasped as it thumped into the male’s lower abdomen. A blossom of crimson immediately sprouted on his torso. He staggered back from the impact but did not fall. Instead, he slowly raised his eyes from the shaft protruding from his body until he saw you huddled in the corner.

Ohhh shit. New arrow. New arrow!

Hastily, you pulled another arrow out, notched it, and took aim as he broke the shaft off with an angry, pained yell and began stalking toward you. To your side, you heard the harsh clanging of metal. Mingi must be fighting another draikensu. You needed to finish off this one fast and help him. You sent the second arrow flying into the male, this time hitting the right side of his chest. You watched as his steps slowed and he brought a hand up to brush against the shaft extending out from his body as he gulped for air. Blood cascaded past his fingers as he gingerly touched the wound. Metal in flesh, wood sticking out from skin, blood overflowing. He fell to his knees and leaned one hand on the ground as the other continued to clutch at his maimed body. He began coughing and bloody spit dribbled onto his chin as he continued to collapse. You just watched with wide eyes as his arm gave out and he finally and fully sagged to the ground, his mouth still trying to gasp for breath.

A defiant outcry captured your attention away from the slowly dying Saeni and you glanced to the left to see Mingi fighting two draikensu. You grabbed another arrow from over your shoulder and went to shoot one of them, but the sight of a new Saeni rushing down the pathway made you shift aim. Swiveling to your new target, you fired off the arrow. You missed. You weren’t even close. She was moving too fast. Cursing, you quickly sent another flying. Compensating for her speed this time, it hit her directly in the chest; the force of your shot caused her to land on her back as blood bubbled up from the entry point.

You heard garbled cries and grunts of exertion and you once again peeked over to check in on Jiae’s guard. He had several dead Saeni surrounding him as he breathed raggedly. Blood coated his sword and dripped off the tip. His face and body were painted crimson. From the shack, you could hear the whimpers from the children, but you were glad they were inside. You were glad they couldn’t see the carnage happening around them.

The ringing and crashing sounds of fights occurring throughout the village was still loud and clear, though you primarily heard your shaky and labored breathing. It almost muffled everything else. Your heart was frantically beating, and you swear it was about to jump out of your chest. Pure adrenaline was thrumming through you, making your hands tremble as you unsteadily reached back to grab yet another arrow.

Stay calm and don’t die. Stay calm and don’t die. Stay calm and don’t die. You repeated the mantra over and over and over in your head.

You perked up as a new Saeni began making his way down the path. He was going slowly, kicking in doors and upturning crates and baskets. You inhaled and raised your bow, narrowing your eyes on his chest as he rummaged through the contents of a smashed box. Waiting for him to go upright. You were so focused on him, though, that you failed to see his buddy turn the corner and lock his eyes on you. He called his comrade’s name before charging straight at you. With a yelp, you switched aim and messily shot at him, but he easily evaded the shot and rammed his body straight into yours like a fucking linebacker.

His tackle forced you through the crates and you felt the air in your lungs get knocked out. Shattered wood littered the dirt underneath and around you. Struggling to regain control of your body, you felt yourself spasm briefly as the Saeni leaned back from where he straddled your waist and grabbed a knife from his belt. Without a second thought, you let your bow drop to the ground and you thrust your forearm up to block his arm that was descending toward you with the blade. The low morning light glinted off the weapon. Your arm shook as you strained to keep the knife away from you. With a strangled grunt you sent your other fist straight into the male’s stomach then genital area. As he wheezed and went limp on top of you, you managed to bring a knee up and buck him off you. The action made a piece of broken wood dig into your side, and you winced from the sharp, stabbing pain. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mingi attack the Saeni you had initially targeted, their blades locking. Heaving your body to your knees, you grabbed the male’s wrist holding the knife while he was still disoriented and twisted as hard as you could. He hissed in pain as your maneuver caused him to release the weapon. It landed on the ground softly a few feet away. Panting, you went to grab it, but the male grabbed your leg and dragged you backward. Your hands fought for purchase on the ground, but found none, so you tightened your hand around a jagged piece of wood. Splinters dug into your palm. The pain helped you focus. He flipped your body over and crawled on top of you once more. He leaned down to try to wrap his hands around your throat. Striking out with your makeshift weapon, you scratched his hands and wrists deeply. Pulling back, you roared before thrusting it into his side. He shrieked in pain and reared back. You were able to scramble out from underneath him. While he slowly wrapped his hand around the wood stake buried in him, you turned back over and dug your fingers through the dirt to propel your body toward the knife. You had just closed your hand around the hilt when you felt him grab you again. With a scream, you slashed at his stomach with the blade, knocking into the wood in his side you did so. The arc of the knife opened his gut, making him release you to clutch at the severed flesh. Breathing heavily, you rose to your feet and adjusted your grip on the knife’s handle before plunging the serrated metal into the junction of the male’s neck and shoulder. Then you ripped it out. Blood spilled out from the wound and drenched the male’s body. It flew through the air after the blade and spattered against your skin and clothes. Once again, it surprised you how easily the metal entered the body. How simple it was for the cold blade to puncture warm flesh and how effortlessly it could be removed.

With a rasping wheeze, the male collapsed forward. He died with a face full of wood, dirt, and blood.

The scent of iron filled your nose and made your head light. As you backed away from the corpse, you looked up to see Mingi shove his sword through the middle of the other Saeni. He met your eyes as he pulled the sword out from the Saeni’s body, and you nodded at him to signal you were okay before letting go of the bloody knife. You quickly scanned the ground before bending down to retrieve your bow, pushing your sweaty and blood-coated hair out of your face as you did so.

You sighed and looked at your destroyed camping spot. Most of the crates had been demolished. There was no way you could hide there anymore. That left you with standing out in the open or… you glanced up then at the few crates left intact. There weren’t many but maybe…

You hurriedly stacked four of them and stood on top of the wobbly structure. You took a deep breath and counted to three before jumping up and grabbing the edge of the roof. You squirmed, your lower half flailing, as you dragged your body onto the top of the building. Luckily, all the morning training with Jungkook had started strengthening your arms so while it hurt it wasn’t an impossible feat. After successfully pulling your body all the way up, you leaned your weight forward so that you wouldn’t fall off. It was an open gable roof, so you had to compensate for the slant. The last thing you wanted or needed was to tumble off the damn thing.

Now that you were higher, you had a much better view. Not only for defending the shack and helping Mingi, but for seeing what was going on around you. Plus, nobody could freaking tackle you from up here.

Up ahead, you saw eruptions of blue light at the edge of the village and you could make out a Saeni with orange hair standing on top of a building much like yourself. Jimin. He was sending arrows down into the blue light, no doubt to assist Yoongi. As you trailed your eyes to the left, you saw some villagers engaging a group of draikensu, but they were not faring well. They were quickly being cut down, red flooding the pathway. You wanted to help, but you were too far away. You could only watch helplessly as they fell one after another. Close by, you saw Taw and Jin fighting, quickly disposing their opponents. The way they fought was almost… beautiful. Their attacks were fluid and they moved as a unit. But there was too much gore and chaos to truly appreciate their grace. Thankfully, they didn’t seem hurt, and you watched as they ran to aid the villagers. Turning your feet carefully, you shifted to look behind you, and caught glimpses of white and burgundy running between the shacks. Hobi and Jungkook. You heard chokes of pain following their path, the two of them a deadly and efficient combo.

Turning back around, you looked to the right and saw Namjoon running down a path in your direction. His brown hair was matted down from sweat and blood and his hammer was at the ready in his hand. Close behind and holding a short sword was Suho, another one of Jiae’s guards. They were checking each crossroad as they made their way toward you and Mingi when, all of the sudden, three draikensu charged into view from around a corner behind them. Namjoon immediately wrecked one of them with his hammer, the impact making the Saeni fly back into a building and slump to the ground. He then turned his attention to the second opponent, who slid below his next swing. You sucked in a breath as the third draikensu, who had gone after Suho, thrust her sword deep into his belly. You froze as you watched her place a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she sickeningly twisted her blade inside him. With a laugh, she yanked the blade out and kicked Suho to the ground, the light in his eyes dimming to a dull glossiness. Smiling, she turned to Namjoon, who’s back was to her as he focused on the Saeni before him.

Just as Namjoon slammed the head of his hammer into the chest of the Saeni in front of him, the female behind raised her sword. Time seemed to slow down as you watched her prepare the strike. You didn’t even think, you just acted. Notched an arrow and sent it flying past Namjoon’s brown hair and into the body of the female draikensu. The thump caused the Saeni to stagger back and gaze at the arrow now implanted in her thigh in shock. It also alerted Namjoon to her presence. He quickly turned on his heel and crushed her with a yell. You swear you could hear the crunching of her bones from your position, a good thirty-five feet away. You felt your shoulders relax slightly and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as you acknowledged that Namjoon wasn’t about to be gutted before your eyes.

The leader of the kiela took in Suho’s lifeless body for a few moments, then turned and raised his eyes to see you staring at him. Before either of you could do or say anything, you registered movement to your left. Shifting your crouched figure, you saw more draikensu making their way through the village. You flexed your fingers and shook your hand out, trying to control your shaking as you drew out another arrow and readied yourself.

Fuck hiding and waiting for them to come to me. If I see one of those fuckers and they get close enough, they’re dead.

The dark thought didn’t mortify you as you steeled your nerves for the next wave of onslaughts. You probably should have been a little more repulsed by the idea of killing these people, but you weren’t. You felt no guilt in sending arrows toward their hearts and blades into their bodies. They were trying to hurt not only innocents, but people you cared for. You felt no remorse. They could all go to fucking hell.

You gritted your teeth and breathed in through your nose as the draikensu neared closer.

You never thought you could be a killer, but you just wanted to protect the kiela, Jiae, the remainder of her guards, and the villagers. If getting your hands bloody accomplished that, then so be it. You’ll be a killer if it meant keeping them safe.

Maybe, once it was all over, you’ll look back at your actions and become nauseous and disgusted at yourself. But for now, you simply narrowed your eyes and looked for your next target.

It wasn’t that much later that you slipped down from the rooftop. It had been several minutes since you saw any draikensu and you hadn’t heard any residual sounds of fighting in that time, so both you and Mingi agreed the battle was done. It was good thing, too, because you only had two arrows left in your quiver. As your feet hit the ground, you stumbled awkwardly over the broken crate pieces. Mingi was quick to limp over and steady you before you both silently took in the bodies littering the area. Pushing your dirty hair out of your face, you squinted in the rising sunlight as you braced your hands on your knees to inspect the slash on Mingi’s upper thigh. He sustained the injury after flinging himself in front of a draikensu that was getting ready to throw a dagger at you from behind. You prodded at the wound, grimacing as you did so and causing him to suck in air sharply. Thankfully, the cut didn’t go deep, and the bone wasn’t showing, meaning Yoongi would be able to easily heal it with his magic.

You looked up into Mingi’s eyes, taking note for the first time that they were a soft hazel before sending him a tiny smile. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me, but… thank you.”

He shook his head and told you to not worry about it before limping over to the shack that held the parents and children. He knocked of the door three times and voiced who he was so that they would unbar the door on the inside. He opened it just a crack and spoke to someone in a hushed tone before reclosing it and making his way back to you.

“I told them to wait until we cleared the bodies out, so the kids don’t see.”

You inhaled deeply and nodded your head in agreement. “I’ll start doing that lovely job. You sit down and wait for Yoongi to get here.”

The male opened his mouth to protest, but you placed your hands on your hips and raised a brow, just daring him to challenge you. Now that everything had calmed down, your adrenaline was starting to wear off, and you realized just how tired and sore you were. You back hurt like a bitch from being body slammed into the ground. Your arms ached from using your bow. You mind was heavy from exhaustion. In other words, you were cranky and was not someone to be arguing with at the moment. You and Mingi stared at each other for several heartbeats until he huffed and sat down on the ground. He stretched his injured leg out in front of him and applied pressure to the bleeding wound with his hand.

Satisfied he complied and wouldn’t be walking on his leg anymore, you pursed your lips and looked at the mess of blood and lifeless flesh scattered around you. With a sigh, you figured you might as well get started. The sooner it was over, the better. Walking over to the nearest one, you bent down and grabbed the Saeni’s leg before beginning to drag the body around the corner to start a pile of corpses.

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isaaccecilbryant · 4 years

Text

A Murderer’s Son

Tales of Crestoria Drabble Words: 3,975 Genre: Angst Written to provide the backdrop for Isaac’s Cresty AU. I hope you all enjoy! If Regal ends up being in the Cresty plot anywhere that will throw a wrench into this, but I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

In Isaac’s earliest memories he never had a mother, just a father. There was no memory of a mother because she had died when giving birth to Isaac, but he didn’t know that until he was a bit older. The memories that Isaac did have where of a father who showed Isaac so much love and kindness but also hid his own sadness. The few nights that he crept out of bed as a boy for a glass of water and found his father crying alone in the living room were burned into his memory. Why was his father so sad when they had each other? As a young child Isaac couldn’t understand, but as he grew older Isaac understood it was because his mother was gone. When Regal did speak of his late wife to his son it was with a bittersweet tone. He’d loved her dearly and had so many fond memories of her, but her absence still stung.

It was around the age of ten that the boy’s life shifted. A new woman appeared in his life and she started staying at Regal’s side. She had reddish-brown hair tied into a bun and a kind smile that made her freckles dance. The woman was younger than his father but was compassionate and motherly. Her hands were so gentle when she would hug Isaac or stroke his head. As time passed Isaac noticed the nights where his father cried alone occurred less often. Was it because the woman was at their home more frequently? One day Isaac noticed all traces of sadness had left his father. Regal no longer was forcing a smile for his boy or masking his pain—it all had been eased and taken away.

“Father, will Miss Chevre be my new mom?”

Regal was surprised by the question from across the breakfast table. “Perhaps.” He answered shyly, no match for the bold 11 year old. “Only if you’d be happy to have her as your mother.”

Isaac rested his chin on his fists like he’d seen adult do. “She’s as kind as a mother.” Isaac reasoned. “But my mom was still the one who gave birth to me. I wouldn’t be here without my mom.” There may be no memories, but Regal shared all the stories he could of Isaac’s mother. To Isaac she felt like one of the mothers from fairy tales. Perfectly kind and loving, someone so tangible to others that you wanted to reach out to her too. Yet, just like the mothers in fairy tales she wasn’t quite real to Isaac either. His mother had fulfilled her role in the story and made her exit now, but the effects of her time there were still felt. “Hmmm…can both of them be my mom?” Isaac’s small face was scrunched up as he puzzled over it.

Regal reached out and tussled his boy’s hair and smiled. “Of course. Your mother is still your mother, even though she’s not with us anymore. And Chevre would love you as a child of her own.”

Isaac nodded at that and put a hand over his father’s before it could be withdrawn. He loved feeling his father’s large hand on his head. “Then, if my mother is ‘my mom’, then Miss Chevre can be just ‘Mom’. Because ‘my mom’ gave birth to me so she’s mom only to me, but Miss Chevre can be a mom to others.”

Regal chuckled at how Isaac reasoned it all out and rubbed his thumb over the boy’s head. “Then that’s how it will be. However, I haven’t asked her to marry me yet, so please wait until after to call Chevre ‘mom’.”

“I won’t! I don’t want to ruin the surprise!” Isaac promised with a big smile, but his dad just laughed more and Isaac wasn’t sure why.

~ * * * ~

At age 16 was leading his father into the woods as he burst with excitement. “I wonder what Mom has planned for us?” Isaac called back to Regal.

“We’ll find out when we get there.”

Chevre said she’d planned a surprise for them out in the forest. Isaac was hoping for a picnic. The weather was perfect for one and the nearby forest was filled with beautiful flora and funa. The odd monster that roamed it was relatively small and harmless, save one species, so no one feared the woods.

“Dad! This is it! The clearing with the wild flowers! But Mom’s not here.”

“It could be she’s running late.” It wasn’t uncommon for Chevre to lose track of time, but she thankfully was never more than a few minutes behind. “Since we have a moment, why not some sparring?”

“You mean hand-to-hand, don’t you?” Isaac sighed playfully. “Come one Dad, the sword is the only weapon for me. It’s the weapon of the gentleman.”

“It doesn’t hurt for you to know to fight with your hands. It means you’ll never be without a weapon.”

“Oh fine.” Isaac untied his sword and set it aside gingerly. “What about you? It’s not really fighting ‘bare handed’ if you use your knuckle duster.”

“There are times when your strength alone isn’t enough for a foe. There’re monsters in the world stronger than you or I can imagine.”

“I’m glad there’s none here.” Isaac said as he started trading light blows with Regal.

“Indeed. But, don’t you want to go out and see the world?”

“Not terribly. Everything I want is here.” Isaac slipped in an uppercut, but it was deflected with Regal hitting him with a soft body blow. “Keep your wrists straight, you don’t need to curve them.” Regal corrected. “That’s a bad habit, even in swordplay.”

“Got it.” They reset and went a few more rounds with their conversation drifting from Isaac’s late mom to current events with sprinklings of advice. They stopped when giggles broke their conversation.

“Chevre.” Regal looked past Isaac and saw she was already set up with a picnic for them.

“Mom! You’re as quiet as a mouse. How long were you there?”

“Long enough to watch you too.” Chevre smiled from the blanket, surrounded by the different foods she’d packed for Regal and Isaac. “Sorry I’m so late, I had too much on the go in the kitchen.”

“No, mom,” Isaac plopped down and took a plate “this is amazing! Thank you for making so much!” There were different favourites of all of theirs scattered around, fried tofu, several types of sandwiches and shepherds’ pie, plus more!

“It looks wonderful,” Regal gave his thanks and a kiss once he sat down. Chevre was beaming and offering food and tea the two. Her cooking wasn’t quite on par with Regal’s, but hers had a distinct homey-ness to it that Isaac loved. Regal’s was amazing but it could be too grand at times. Sometimes boiled veggies with dill was better than sautéed vegetables.

Isaac took a large bite of cake and ‘mmmmmhed’ as the icing melted in his mouth. As he reached for his cup he saw it was out of tea. “Mom, could you pour me some more tea please?”

“Certainly.” Chevre turned behind her for the thermos. She gasped.

“What is it?” Regal and Isaac peered around her.

A monster had coiled around the thermos and was staring down Chevre with its little yellow slits for eyes. Everyone froze as they took in the dark red markings on its scaly body and the large black, hooked claw on each of its forefeet. A keres had come to their picnic. “Don’t move.” Regal whispered as they all kept their eyes on the monster. While it was not difficult to kill due to its small size it did pack a nightmarish venom that slowly killed a person. Isaac thought back a few months ago when one man tried to catch one to make an antidote but got bitten. It took a full month for him to pass away, and each day he could be heard screaming in agony from his home. Isaac’s eyes darted to Chevre. Her body was shaking as the Keres coiled tighter around the thermos. Could Isaac run for his sword that was still with the flowers and cut the keres down before it struck? He glanced towards the field---

“Ahh!” Chevre reeled back. Her arm was flailed wildly. The keres had taken hold of her hand.

“Chevre!” Regal jumped to her side and grabbed the keres by the neck.

Isaac ran for his sword.

Where was it? Where had he set it down?

Flowers were brushed aside as Isaac frantically searched. He needed his sword! Chevre’s cries and sobs echoed through the clearing and tore at his heart. Isaac’s hand finally brushed against metal and pulled his sword from the flower. “Hold it still!” Isaac shouted as he ran back. Regal knew what to do and moved Chevre’s arm and the keres so Isaac had a clear shot. In a swing the monster was cut open and its jaw let go of Chevre’s hand. It writhed and screeched on in pain, body half cut off, as blood pooled on the blanket. Seeing the size of the fangs it had dug into Chevre made Isaac’s stomach churn.

“Mom, are you okay?” He asked, leaving the monster to die.

She just whimpered and held her hand. Regal was cradling her in his arms but wore a grim expression. Isaac saw her pallid hand was already turning purple, and it was spreading up her wrist. The poison would spread fast, and they’d lost so much time with Isaac looking for his sword…

Chevre grimaced, fighting back tears and screams. How could this happen to her?

“Mom…”

“It hurts! Regal, please don’t—don’t leave me like this!”

Regal tightened his grip on Chevre, wrestling with himself on what to do.

“Dad! What’s going to happen to mom?”

Regal met his son’s terrified gaze and then looked to his beloved. He couldn’t leave her to stuffer such a painful death, but what other options were there?

“Please…just kill me now.” Chevre bit her lip and drawing blood. “I—I can’t…” She sobbed, “I can’t hold on.”

Isaac’s vision blurred from tears at her request. They were supposed to kill her? “We could never! Mom I--”

“Isaac,” Regal cut him off, “look away.” His head hung low, eyes hidden from Isaac.

“But Dad!”

“Now! I don’t want you to see this.”

Isaac sucked in a breath. He looked to Chevre. Her breathing was erratic and despite the grip Regal had on her, she was shaking violently. “Mom…”

“Please! Regal!” The sudden loudness of her voice stabbed both of them deep in their hearts.

“Isaac! Look away!” Regal ordered again. “Now!”

Isaac took a few unsteady steps away but dropped to his knees and covered his ears. His mother was dying, and his father had to kill her. This was so messed up! Couldn’t they got back ten minutes to when everything was bright and sunny again? Try as he might, the sound of Chevre’s labored breath reached his ears, as she pleaded with Regal, saying she loved him until it all became a mindless ramble.

“Isaac!” Chevre called out. “I love you! As my own son, I love you!”

He doubled over, hands still over his ears, wishing for one last hug from her. She was the only mother he physically knew. After today she’d be gone from his life, just like his biological mother. His father would fall back into depression, and this time Isaac would tumble in right behind. “Mom, I—” He started to say but ‘I love you too, as my own mother I love you too!’ wouldn’t come forward. His throat ached and it felt like the air had been punched out of him.

Isaac could make out the faint rumble of his father’s voice. He was saying a last goodbye but Isaac couldn’t make out the words. The flowers at his feet wavered and bent as more tears washed over Isaac’s vision.

Then he heard it.

A sickening snapping sound.

Quick and painless.

In one second she was gone.

She was gone and Isaac would never hear her voice again as she read to him, or sang songs with him, or even greeted him when he came in the house.

“Hnggg…Haaaaa!! Moooom!!” Isaac brought his arms around himself, digging his fingers as he tried to hug himself. Why did this have to happen to her of all people?! Why?!

Regal was moving around behind him, Isaac could sense it even while curled into a ball. Isaac didn’t want to think about what his father was doing. He didn’t want to think about anything. If the earth opened its jowls and swallowed him whole he wouldn’t fight back. If he suddenly died too—

“Isaac.”

His father’s hand was on his shoulder. Turning his head Isaac not only was the picnic packed up, but Chevre’s body was lying in the flowers. Aside from her purple arm, it would look like a woman napping in the field.

Regal’s face was pale and his expression tired. “We need to go back to town and get the embalmer.”

“…Right.” Isaac’s head drooped as he followed Regal back to town, each step dragging along. It had to be a nightmare. Tomorrow he’d wake up and everything would be back to normal, and none of this would be real.

“Isaac.” Regal’s voice cut through Isaac’s thoughts. “Do you hate me for doing what I did?” There was uncertainty in his voice, and so much shame.

Isaac opened his mouth but was voiceless for a moment. “No.” He whispered eventually. There was more to say, more he needed to tell his dad that he understood, that he didn’t want Mom to suffer. However the words just weren’t there yet. No way could Isaac sort his mind out after what just happened.

“I see.”

And there…the window had shut on Isaac’s opportunity to say more. Had his father been hoping Isaac would say something specific? Isaac couldn’t ponder it. Those thoughts were ejected from his mind, slipping through the slick and squishy crevasses of his brain like a worm through mud. Only one thing persisted in his mind.

I want Mom.

As they neared the town a questioned bubbled up, reaching the surface and breaking with Isaac’s voice all too quickly. “Why did we leave her behind?”

Regal stopped in his tracks. The hand holding the picnic basket now was in a white knuckled grip. “People tend to jump to conclusions, and vision orbs only lend to the problem.”

As Regal turned to Isaac slightly, he caught a trace of his father’s expression. His eyes were dark and filled with sorrow. It was out of place against the scene of him holding a basket on a bright and sunny day.

“However…no matter how it is judged, what I did doesn’t change. I…I…killed…”

“Dad.” Isaac ran up and grabbed his shoulder. “It’s okay. If you hadn’t she’d have suffered worse.” A whole month that man had suffered. He lived alone, so he had no family to make the hard choice that Regal had to for Chevre.

The tears pushed back into Isaac’s eyes. Had her suffering been quick enough? Was she able to have some peace before she died?

A flash of light drew both of their attention to the town center.

“That was vison central.” Isaac started for the epicenter with Regal close behind. A crowd was already gathered around the large orb.

[“Please, Regal!! I’m begging you!”]

Isaac’s chest tightened and constricted his heart. It was a recording of his father and Chevre.

[Regal—You can’t! You can’t. Just please!”]

It was from when Chevre was rambling. Out of context it sounded like Regal was threatening to kill her. Vision Central finally showed an image, the moment Regal snapped Chevre’s neck.

Bile jumped up from Isaac’s stomach and he struggled to hold it back. All the delicious food and cake he’d eaten earlier was gone. The acidic, putrid taste of bile erased it all as it spilled from his mouth and over his fingers.

Something then landed on his foot. The basket.

Regal looked shell-shocked as he still stared at vision central. Hadn’t it been enough that he had to commit a deed so unthinkable? Why did he have to watch it again?

As the crowd murmured with contempt Regal hissed and clutched his hand. A black mark in the shape of a vision orb seared on to the back of his hand.

“How could someone kill her like that?”

“Brutal. He has no mercy.”

“Didn’t his first wife die too? I bet he killed her too.”

“Murderer! Murderer!”

Isaac watched as his father shrank under the gaze of the townspeople, no one caring the pain and sorrow he was showing.

“It didn’t happen like that!” Isaac shouted out. “Mom got bitten by a keres! Dad was just—”

“We cleared out tons of keres weeks ago! How could she have got bitten?!”

“Covering for a criminal, how despicable!”

“That murderer deserves the same!”

“Just die!”

“Die!”

Isaac lost his footing as he staggered back. They weren’t listening. They didn’t care if they knew what happened or not. He looked up from the ground to his father, hoping Regal found the strength to stand his ground.

…Yet Regal’s head hung low as the beaten husk of a man stood in his place.

“Dad! Don’t—Don’t listen to them!”

A set of flashes and the inhuman sound of enforcers arriving drained the blood from Isaac’s face. No. No, no no no NO!

Regal stepped towards them.

“DON’T!” Isaac grabbed his arm. “Don’t go with them! I can’t lose you and Mom!”

Wordlessly Regal pried his son’s hand off. “I killed her. The circumstances do nothing to change that.” His voice sounded dead.

How could his dad say that? He of all people knew why they had to perform a mercy kill for Chevre. Did Regal regret it that badly? Was the guilt of that sin too much for him to bear? An image of him trying to kill Chevre flashed through Isaac’s mind. The horror and self-loathing from simply imagining it shook Isaac, and knocked him out of the phantasm. Yet, he continued to jump back in to see what it was his father felt. And it was hellish.

Isaac grabbed for Regal’s arm again. His father’s arm felt weak in his grip and Regal noticeably struggled to remove Isaac’s hand.

“Isaac. What I did in unforgivable. I’ve accepted the judgement cast on me.” Regal pushed past his son, though Isaac was right after him, grabbing and clinging to him like a young child trying to stop their parent from leaving.

“Dad! No! Please no!”

Each time Regal brushed him off until he stood before the two enforcers.

The crowd surged around them, all wanting to see the murderer brought to justice. People shoved closer to get a good look, all shouting condemnation and profanity at Regal. When Isaac went to grab his father again several hands held him back.

“Don’t interfere with the enforcers!”

“He’s a murderer, just let him die!”

“Why would you want to save a monster like him?”

Isaac struggled against him but felt his stamina fading. “But—he didn’t! He’s my dad.” Tears leaked out, burning Isaac’s cheeks as they fell. “Dad! Dad!”

The robe of the enforcer lifted as it reached towards Regal.

“DAAAAAAD!”

In instant they were gone. Isaac blinked and missed the moment his father vanished from the world. One enforcer still remained, but any trace of Regal and the other had disappeared entirely. The only thing that remained of Regal Bryant was his son.

“No. No…” The ground came up hard under Isaac as he dropped to his knees and everything began shifting under him. “How could you?” People were cheering and boasting, so smug with their ‘justice’. “He didn’t…he didn’t have a choice. Why?” Looking at the face of the people he knew, people he’d grown up around, celebrating the death of his beloved father something in him snapped. “You’ll pay. I swear it, I’LL MAKE YOU ALL PAY!”

Fire burning in his eyes, Isaac was up and swinging fists at everyone in range. Men tried to hold him down but Isaac was a wild beast, thrashing out of their hands and knocking them back. “My father wasn’t a murderer!!”

Yet the words didn’t stop.

“How shameful…”

“If his father could kill in cold blood just what is the son capable of?”

“The apple never falls far from the tree.”

“The son of a murderer may as well be a murderer.”

Him too? He hadn’t done anything though…Why? “You’re all monsters!”

“You’re the monster!” Someone shouted back and held up their vision orb.

Isaac going into a frenzy appeared on vision central, screaming how he’d make everyone pay before beating on the people around him.

Voice started bombarding Isaac from inside his head.

“What is wrong with that boy?”

“What kind of parents would raise someone like him?”

“Wait…that hair colour. He’s the child of that murderer!”

“Murderer!”

“Killer!”

“Monster!”

Isaac covered his ears but it kept pouring in.

“Die!”

“Disappear!”

“Go to hell!”

A searing pain shot from his left hand. On the back a mark resembling a vision orb appeared—a Stain of Guilt--and the voices in his head grew louder.

“DIE!!” Was what they all demanded.

The enforcer that stayed behind now hovered towards Isaac.

“Get him!”

“Take him away!”

“Send him to hell!”

There was no mercy for Isaac. Every face in the crowd was an enemy out for blood. Was this all just a sport to them? A pastime to get riled up over to dull the boredom of daily life? Was the execution of Isaac and his father just for their enjoyment? Vision orbs…why did they exist? Who made them? This world was better off without them!

When the enforce was before Isaac he played submissively until the last second, grabbing a child and shoving them towards the enforcer. It dodged, not here to take away an innocent. People jumped back to avoid touching the flowing white and blue robes of the arbiter, shrieking about not touching it.

Isaac turned on his foot and ran, pushing through the crowd with a renewed energy and force. He wasn’t going to die here. He was going to rid this world of vision orbs and avenge his father, no matter what it cost!

He had little time, but Isaac needed to prepare if he was going to be on the run. His home was deserted now, all staff from the small manor in town with the others. Those traitors. Isaac could care less about them being out of the job with their master of the house dead. A bag was grabbed and packed with whatever he could grab from the kitchen. From his room Isaac took a few shirts and underwear. Lastly his father’s pocket watch and a book Chevre read to him were packed.

Isaac paused. His mom. What would he take to remember her by? They may never have met, but it wasn’t right to leave her out of it.

“Dad, if I got my blue hair from you, what did I get from my mom?”

“You inherited her best feature; her smile.”

It was a conversation Isaac had nearly forgotten, but there it was, right there with him just below the surface. “My mom, you’ve been there this whole time, haven’t you? Is this right?” Isaac blinked away the new tears that threatened to gather. “Is this what I should be doing?” If his mom loved Regal like Isaac did, then surely she would agree with his decision. He’d change this world by getting rid of the vision orbs and he’d do it with a smile on his face.

#drabble #Crestoria AU

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wincore · 5 years

Text

love, summer | dong sicheng

pairing: merman!sicheng x reader

words: 7.3k

genre: mermaid!au, fluff, some angst

warnings: mentions of nightmares and anxiety

a/n: my exams start next week and i really wanna complete a request by then but hnnnfhgf hear me out,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,merman sicheng is great,,,,,

You dreamt that the entire city was submerged in crystal clear water. The little glowing fishes swam over your bed, in and out through buildings and houses, over and under tree branches. As you tried to focus on your novel, the fishes tickled your arms and legs, blowing bubbles in front of you, beckoning you to leave your room, like they have something to show you, some secret to tell.

You climbed out your window for the first time in a long time, even if it was in a dream. You took one slow step after another, and soon you floated down to the soft, green grass. You let yourself be carried forward by the swarm of golden-orange fish as they joked and told you stories, trying to make their company much more enjoyable than they already were. You walked past the bus stop, greeting the old ladies going to the market, and finally down the stone steps, urged on by your marine companions.

They inevitably stopped at the edge of what was supposed to be the beach, if the city hadn’t been submerged in water. It still looked the same, except the water there was a darker, richer blue and you found yourself struggling to not dip your feet in it. Your eyes scanned the area; the rocks and fences were accompanied by painted fish, the sunlight streamed through the turquoise waters above and around you and the occasional jellyfish popped in to say hi. You seemed to be the only one there, and while the cold current felt refreshing all on your own, you missed the warm glow of the fishes already.

You walked further towards the ocean when you noticed the figure standing by the large pile of rocks you had labelled ‘the lion’ a long time ago due to its resemblance to the wild animal. You don’t know why but you found yourself being pulled towards the figure, although there was no current as far as you remember. As soon as you stopped, the boy turned to face you, a curious look on his face. The solid gold ink painted in fine lines across his cheeks, necks and shoulder blades gave him the appearance of someone special as much as the low-cut dress shirt tried to play him off as ordinary. His features were regal but his eyes were kind as they scanned you over, as if trying to comprehend your existence.

You smiled at the boy like you knew him. His expression remained unchanged as he stared back at you with wide eyes and parted lips, abruptly raising his arm to place it fondly on your cheek. The skies were still bright blue but you felt your chest constrict at the contact as the water around you suddenly turned against you. It seemed to darken; it choked you, filled your lungs that are not adapted to breathing underwater, and soon you open your eyes to your alarm clock flashing 4:00 AM in bright red.

Your heart still beats uncontrollably fast as you try to settle the panic that has risen your chest cavity. You try to think of anything but water—the treehouse in the local park, your mother’s favourite perfume, your neighbour’s golden retriever. You calm down eventually, sweeter and softer images slowly filling your mind. You look out your window to find a clear night sky and silence, and before the unnatural fear can settle in again, you shut your eyes and pull your blanket over you.

Despite waking up groggy and a little too close to noon for your liking, you help your mother with the errands (more like, you were forced to but it’s not like you have anything better to do). You race no one in particular as you run through the crowds to the local marketplace. You’ve grown used to avoiding bumping into people as you skip over steps, the uneven pavement adding a stumble to your movement. You say hello to the vendors and the people you already know, and while they understand your rush to buy the vegetables—you’ve always been this way—you yourself don’t know why you’re still in a hurry. You’ve been running since you were a child, and you haven’t stopped in quite a while.

It would have been a normal errand run for you had you not ran into the boy from your dream. His lips and jaw are still set into a regal expression, his hair is boyishly messy as if it’s just been dried and he moves as if he’s analysing the whole marketplace, each step calculated and each glance scrutinising. You think you’re blatantly staring at this point, but you can’t snap out of it either—every time he glances at a shop, or picks up a small item to look at, or lets the corner of his lips quirk upwards at the fruit-seller’s puppies guarding the fruits.

The boy finds your eyes in the crowd and freezes immediately. You make your way towards him, again as if drawn by a current but he shies away, running through the crowds and somewhere else till he’s out of sight. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. Was he even real or have you started hallucinating in the summer heat?

There’s something about the boy, something that makes you unable to stop thinking about him—real or not. Was it the glint of the unknown in his eyes? Or was it his way of walking, each stride as graceful as a king? Was it the soft look of innocence painted across his cheeks? Or the pureness of his secret smiles?

You walk home at a slower pace, still lost in dreams and wonder. Your mother doesn’t appreciate you running into the house and dropping the groceries in the kitchen at lightning speed to run back outside. While you’re sure you’ll get an earful when you get home, you make your way past the bus stand, past the children’s park towards the silver beach.

It’s hotter than it was in your dream, but you’re used to it, appreciating the occasional breeze that graces your presence. There’s no particular reason as to why you came here. You don’t expect the boy to be here, but you came here on impulse anyway. The sunlight is almost always blinding in the afternoon, and you sit beside the lion, sighing in its shade and pat its rocks like they understand you, like they are alive in some way.

The afternoon is when you like the beach the most(other than at night), despite its heat. It’s relatively empty save the stray tourist here and there, and the songs of the seabirds and the waves lull you into your happy place, where you can be free and unafraid all at once. You used to run on the sand, struggling to land with a strong footing, you used to run every day to the beach, climbing over the fence. You used to run to laugh and be happy, to look cool to your friends when you won against them in a race. You don’t know why you still run so fast, but being an adult unable to catch up is a sadder fate than one would imagine.

You hear a sigh on the other side of the rock, and immediately perk up. With slow, silent movement you stand up and take a step forward to peek to the other side. An inaudible gasp escapes from your mouth, at the boy from your dreams present before you yet again. He wears a dark baseball cap, a new addition to his outfit from the marketplace, and you can’t see any recognizable expression on his face for you to discern.

In your excitement, you become rather insensitive to his sense of security, and run around the rock to try and greet him (you don’t know how yet but you think a ‘hi’ is a good start). But the suddenness of your action leads to a strangled noise emanating from his throat as he stumbles backward and lands on the soft sand. Realizing your inconsiderate proceedings, you feel a blush bloom across your face and crouch down in front of him.

“Sorry!” you begin, “I really am- I didn’t mean to do that.”

He stares at you with slightly wider eyes for a few quiet seconds before shaking his head.

“It’s okay.”

His voice is deeper than you expected, although it carries a melody you find familiar.

Finding no other way to improve the conversation, you introduce yourself. You’re suddenly a little conscious of how casual your attire is, shorts and an oversized t-shirt, while he’s dressed in a loose fitting, full-sleeved shirt somewhat resembling a Disney prince. When you ask him his name, he looks a little confused, tilting his head to one side with a blank expression.

“My name? My name is Sicheng.”

“Sicheng,” you repeat.

“Yes,” he nods.

“Do you come here often?” you ask, a smile playing on your lips.

He looks amused, a tiny light sparkling in his eyes as he responds, “Yes. I guess you can say that.”

Talking to Sicheng is easier than talking to people from your town. Although he acts like a tourist sometimes, there’s nothing remotely tourist-y about the way he thinks, about the way he talks of the ocean and the sand. Sometimes, it feels like he knows much more about your own secret place than you do. He talks slowly and carefully at first, with you continuing the conversation. But when you talk about the ocean like a friend, he perks up, listening intently and adding on with a excited tremor to his voice.

“You think it looks like a lion too?” you ask.

“No, a sea lion,” he insists.

You press your eyebrows together to think. Does it now?

“I’ve never seen a lion anyway,” Sicheng mutters when you don’t come up with a response.

“Neither have I, silly, but you must have seen pictures.”

Sicheng looks flustered before nodding rapidly, “O-Of course!”

The sand is still warm when the evening begins, and you gaze at the orange hues meddling with fading blues of the ocean, in peaceful silence. Sicheng breaks it, getting up suddenly, a look of panic etched across his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, uh, I have curfew.”

“Really?” you laugh. “How old are you?”

“Older than you for sure,” he shows his teeth in something of a grin before making a run for it over the sands, a hasty goodbye directed your way.

Sicheng’s disappearing figure reminds you that you, too, have a curfew and your mother will have your head soon.

You can’t sleep that night. The nightmares are strong and vivid, and they like to constrict your lungs, rob you of air every time you try closing your eyes. You throw off your blanket and sit up, unable to take it anymore.

Where else can you go in the middle of the night but the sea? The sea which has calmed you since you were a child, the sea which doesn’t ask questions unless you want it to, the sea that has been here since before you existed and which will be there long after you’re gone. This is the sea you come to every time your chest hurts, every time you need to keep breathing. You skip over the rocks till you land on the one furthest into the ocean. The waves crash against the boulders, splashes of water hitting you in sporadic seconds. You let your legs dangle over the edge, as you sit on a relatively flat surface of the giant rock.

The sea at night listens. You listen to its existence, and it listens to your heartbeat. You notice the moon swaying on the water, and involuntarily look up. If you could take in your breaths without worrying about the coming morning, you’d already have ventured far, far beyond the summer. You stand, wanting to feel the ocean breeze a little clearer, to laugh with the moon a little easier.

The dark blue night sky enchants you, charms you so much that you don’t notice your feet in the darkness. The moon and its lucent companions get blurry and before you can comprehend, you stumble and fall.

The thing about seawater is that it stings as much as it is cold. Your nose and throat burn as you’re relentlessly pushed and pulled in tug-of-war game that the sea plays with itself. You try grabbing a hold of the rocks but they’re too slippery, escaping your grasp each time but leaving you with flaring scratches. You’re about to give up—maybe your lungs were meant to be filled with water, after all, and you take one deep breath before trying to reach for a strong enough hold. You do get a hold of something this time, but it’s too soft, too moving to be rocks.

Glowing eyes scan yours and you don’t have enough time to react to it holding you by the waist as your consciousness slowly leaves you. The night gets darker at a rapid pace and the last thing you remember is a warmth pressed against your mouth.

You wake up in a place you had once had a glimpse of a long, long time ago. Or rather, it’s a place you think you’ve seen before because it looks like a hideout, a magic-scented cove from your fantasy novels. No, you can’t say you’ve ever been here. But the essence of it is familiar.

The rocks around you are mossy, and the sound of dripping water continues to echo through the cave-like area. Sunlight streams in through a place further off, and you think you can see a hint of bright green seaweed, dancing under the light. You’re not underwater, no. The pools scattered around your feet are deeper than they appear to be, sapphire blue and strangely inviting. The largest one is near the fields of submerged seaweed, lighter turquoise water swaying under the breeze. You inevitably walk towards it, steps slow but steady.

The sound of gushing water gets louder with every step you take, and you can finally see the small sets of waterfalls that have formed over the large pool. The sunlight is brighter yet, and it must be early morning because you can hear the rising cries of the seagulls. There’s some red sprinkled on the sand near the pool which you realize are baby crabs with delight, and you’re sure you spot the occasional rainbow scales of fish inside the waters.

Just when you’re about to turn the other way, you notice a startlingly familiar face gazing at the part of the sky that the rocks of the cliff allow you to see. He’s in the pool, mostly underwater, while his bare torso rests under the sun.

“S-Sicheng?!”

Sicheng snaps his head towards you, but instead of showing any hints of compassion, he sinks further underwater till the water reaches his nose.

“Sicheng,” you say, dodging the little crabs on your path, “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t come any closer!”

“Why?” you continue walking towards the pool while he drifts apart.

“Th-there’s, uh, piranhas! In the pool!”

“What?! Why are you inside then?”

Sicheng exposes his teeth with a click of dismay. The perfect set are only broken by the disproportionately large canines, and while they’re not large enough to poke out of his mouth, they still surprise you a bit.

“Sicheng,” you furrow your brows at him.

Sicheng sighs before propping himself up on a rock, his upper body exposed to you. You jump over to said rock and while you scrutinize him for whatever he may be hiding, he raises his full body onto the rock.

You’re so taken aback you almost fall into the pool. A pale yet somewhat iridescent fishtail stays attached to Sicheng’s lower body, sometimes shimmering with the colours of the rainbow when he moves at certain angles.

“A merman, yes,” Sicheng confirms before you can ask, shaking his head.

“Cool,” you whisper with eyes full of wonder.

“You don’t hate me?”

“What? Why should I?”

Sicheng scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “They always said the humans hated us. That’s why they throw their filth in here.”

“No, sweetie, that’s because humans are shit.”

Sicheng cracks a smile. “Don’t you want to get back?”

“Are you kidding me?” you say, creasing your brows. “No way!”

Sicheng offers to show you around his secret cove with a bashful smile. His tail disappears once he’s out of the water, and once again, he’s in the clothes you saw him in.

When you venture further into the faint darkness, you’re startled by the sudden loud echo of water dripping from an extreme height, no doubt. Sicheng steadies you by the shoulder, and when you smile at him as thanks, you don’t see the warmth of his cheeks in the darkness.

“Just a little further,” Sicheng’s voice comes from beside you.

And then you see it. The glass holds back the blue of the sea, and the life teeming behind it. Your jaw drops and you walk faster towards it, unaware of anything else, looking only at the brightly coloured anemones and the lively fish playing peek-a-boo. The other creatures on the seabed look prehistoric, like something out of a dinosaur book but they mind their own business, scouring the floor.

“My dad made this,” Sicheng says, waving towards the dimly lit glass. “I used to come here all the time.”

You nod, smiling, and press your fingertips against the glass. A turtle swims by, gently tapping its head against the glass and then swimming away. You wave at it, enamoured by its lazy yet jolly movement.

A sudden shuffling from the back of the trail causes the both of you to get alert. The shuffling turns into footsteps and a look of panic spreads across Sicheng’s face as he pulls you into a narrow trail, trying to keep from touching the damp rocks as much as possible. The footsteps eventually fade into a thick silence, full of anticipation, and Sicheng presses you further into a narrow crevasse, his breath hot on your cheek.

You hear voices after a few seconds, and you think Sicheng must recognize one of them because he tenses up, his breath hitching. In his fear, he leans further into you as if he can simply disappear from sight if he gets close enough—and you would be okay with it if it weren’t for lump in your throat and the goosebumps on your skin that had formed at the extreme proximity.

Sicheng lets out a deep breath when he’s sure the owner of the voices have left. He turns to look at your face, which is most certainly far too in his personal space and from what you can make out in the darkness, he suddenly feels warmer. Another thing you find out about Sicheng is that his eyes glow a dangerous yellow in the dark. They widen as if realizing your position only now and he stumbles forward, out into a more breathable area.

You follow him out and he mumbles a panicked ‘sorry!’ to which you shake your head.

“That was my dad,” Sicheng says, his voice low. “He’d kill me if he found I brought a human here.”

“Oh,” you barely respond, your voice meek, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he says, flashing a polite smile.

You walk to the glass again, the blue-painted light dancing and playing across Sicheng’s cheeks as he smiles at the turtles, a small dimple making its appearance. He turns to meet your gaze, and you don’t know why but your cheeks heat up, caught in the act of staring. He lets out an ‘ah!’ before walking closer and holding up your arms gingerly.

You see the red lines of swollen scratches stretching randomly across your skin as though a deranged man had made marks on a canvas with bright red paint. You hadn’t felt the pain up until now, but suddenly they burn. Before you can understand, Sicheng brings your palm to his mouth and breathes—a cold breath, as soothing as ice on a summer afternoon and you sigh in relief. He does that for all your scratches and cuts; from your knuckles to your elbows to your knees, and the pain subsides as fast as it had appeared.

You gaze at him in wonder. “You’re magical!”

“Yes, I thought the tail gave it away.”

“Don’t get snarky with me.”

Sicheng smiles, the pure kind where he beams all over.

When you glance at your arms again, your skin is fully healed and soft to touch. You make your way back, talking in hushed whispers (it’s mostly you asking about the underwater kingdom, and how cool it would be for sightseeing) and while Sicheng speaks, he doesn’t seem to be telling you everything you want to know.

Sicheng stops at the pool and you stare at his back, wondering why he stopped so suddenly.

When he turns around, his lips are pressed together and there’s a sharp intake of breath before he speaks. “How long can you hold your breath?”

You crease your brows, trying to respond with an answer. Well, in middle school, you could do it up to a little more than two minutes. You’re not very sure about now though; you don’t swim often.

“Seven minutes?”

“Seven?!” you repeat. “I couldn’t do that if I tried!”

Sicheng scrunches his eyebrows again, pressing his lips into a thin line till his cheeks puff out.

“W-well,” he begins, “to get out of the cove, you have to swim through that pool and…”

Sicheng trails off, the dilemma at hand getting obvious.

“Unless you want to climb,” he says, looking up at the rocky walls surrounding the pool that stretch far too high into the sky.

“Is there no other way?” you ask, suddenly scared.

“I don’t think you’d appreciate it,” he says.

You look at him as if to say ‘well, continue’ but he gulps and a somewhat embarrassed expression takes over.

“I’d have to kiss you,” he says, quieter.

Suddenly, an image flows back into your head from last night and you gasp before pointing an accusing finger at Sicheng. “You kissed me last night!”

He seems to get more embarrassed as he trips over his words, trying to explain. “Your- your lungs were failing! And I thought you’d- you’d die for sure I—”

“It’s okay,” you reassure quickly, trying to ignore the rising red in your cheeks.

“It’s okay?” he repeats.

You nod and take a step forward. Sicheng tries to compose himself as he gets closer to you and gingerly presses his lips to yours for a flash of a second. You barely register it, but the same icy feeling travels from your lips to your throat to lungs. By the time your head feels less dizzy, Sicheng is already in the water motioning for you to follow him.

Swimming without the fear of drowning is a different experience altogether. You make sure to say hello to all the fishes you pass, the hum of excitement in your chest leading you on. The sea is dark initially but as you swim up, the sunlight enters and you’re pulled towards it. The school of fish swirl around you and Sicheng, and you see him with a soft smile adorning his face, before he turns back to you.

You take your first breath at the surface of the familiar blue sea. Even when you reach the sand, Sicheng follows you, making sure you’re safe in every step. While you assure him you’re fine, he follows you all the way back home, waving you goodbye with a concerned, tight-lipped smile.

You visit Sicheng the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. Each day he brings a new sea creature you’ve never seen before in a sealed water bubble, with an excited grin tugging at his full lips. Each day you get to know more about him, not because he talks a lot but from the way he talks and the way he looks while talking. You’re at your own pace with him, not worrying about a nightmare anytime soon. Neither of you talk about the ‘kiss�� though and most of you is relieved to never bring it up again.

“This,” Sicheng says, “is a juvenile cowfish.”

It’s a little translucent fish, which tends to glow a soft violet and stares at you with black soulless eyes and puckered lips.

“You really like these creatures, don’t you?”

Sicheng nods, smiling while looking down. “I like those too,” he says, “Puppies.”

Your eyes widen when an idea strikes and you clasp your hands together. “You’re going to love Miss Wei’s puppies. She lives on the cliff, over there.”

You point at the hills that act as a continuation of the short cliffs by the ocean. It’s covered in dense forests but you’ve visited it enough times to know of the numerous cafes and bathhouses, and of course, the location of your elementary school teacher’s house. You used to visit her all the time, along with your childhood friends, to play in her yard and she didn’t mind one bit. She loved your energy bursting through her rooms and she still invites you over, although she’s retired. You visited her almost a month ago, before you found Sicheng, and you remember gleefully playing with her new puppies telling you to come join her again. It’s also a good excuse to go visit her, and have her infamous brownies.

Miss Wei’s house is a long way to trek, though, and you sit at a café midway to your destination. Sicheng pokes around with the menu, somewhat glaring at it before you open your mouth into an ‘o’ shape.

“You can’t read,” you state to him.

He nods and you take the opportunity to present to him your favourites.

“Tiramisu?” he asks, poking the delicacy with a fork. He cuts off a portion and places it in his mouth nonetheless and his eyes widen, a ‘wow’ escaping his lips.

You reach Miss Wei’s house after almost an hour of lugging yourself uphill, and you’re almost immediately engulfed by the puppies. The two of them wag their tails in uncontainable excitement and Sicheng lets out a timid, startled noise when they jump up on him.

You hear your name called out from the front door and Miss Wei stands there in her signature apron; she used to bake cookies for class, too, and she looks as jolly as ever, her skin pale but soft and her cheeks as red as apples. She rushes down the steps to greet you with the biggest smile before turning to Sicheng.

“Is this your boyfriend?”

You turn red without notice, not sure why the thought of Sicheng as your boyfriend makes you feel that way. You shake your head at whirlwind pace, and although Miss Wei responds with a ‘oh dear, my bad’, the glint in her eyes tells you that you’ve given yourself away.

Sicheng is well used to the puppies after a bit of running and stumbling around, and when you sit at the steps of the temple, Miss Wei tells you something you never expected her to say. You notice the marks of age on her skin; the wrinkles, the deep creases, especially when she’s grim. When she was your teacher, she seemed much happier, much more foolish, one would say. Her eyes follow Sicheng’s movement, a mirthless look on her face contrasting with Sicheng’s spikes of laughter.

You must never trust water.

You don’t forget what she says, not because of your attachment, but because they seem to hold a truth you’re missing. A truth you might never be able to grasp. It’s a little strange, though, to hear the words from someone who told you to smile and hold your head high every day.

The summer breeze brings back your teacher’s honey-sweet smile, and she asks, “Aren’t you going to visit the shrine?”

Of course, you had forgotten about the summer rituals. The goddess of the sea in her crown of seashells and shipwrecks, a heart as kind as nature allows and an unmoving yet sorrowful smile playing on her lips—that’s who you worship when the summer haze starts, that’s who you mutter your prayers too, in hopes that one day she might answer them.

Sicheng follows you up the stairs of the shrine happily, after having waved goodbye to Miss Wei and her enthusiastic puppies. He’s suddenly livelier than before, and you would think he’s in a different world altogether, with the lost smile on his face.

You’re sweating by the time you reach the top, and you wipe your brow cursing the heat as Sicheng steps from behind to stand beside you. You flash him a smile, still out of breath, and the returned smile playing on his pink lips make your flutter in a sudden motion.

The shrine in front of you stays inside a jasmine-scented building, the wooden posts holding up its tiled roof. The fragrance comes from the decorated jade bowl, with flowers and stray petals floating on its emerald waters and the small structure stands right in front of the two pillars signifying the entrance. The space inside isn’t too deep, but Sicheng freezes as soon as he sees the carved ivory face of the sea goddess, her eyes wide open in an undecipherable emotion and lips painted red. The colour produces a stark contrast with the bluish grey jewels on her forehead, and it might just describe the very essence of her being.

Ever since you were a child, you’ve heard stories of the feared yet loved deity—how she can swallow the largest, most intricate of ships if she deemed them unworthy, how she blesses the children born by the sea, how her smile has enough power to soak the city in light, and her wrath enough to claim all life on earth. She has a flow timed with the flow of life, and she is all things nature has to offer.

You especially found one particular story interesting, not because it was sweet or heart-warming but because of how unlikely it sounded. The sea goddess, in all her beauty and glory, regularly charmed the mortals and while she viewed them as nothing but passing lives, she still fell in love. She fell in love with a mortal man, and to make him immortal, she performed sacred rituals and raised tsunamis, but alas, it was never meant to be. Her children—children of the sea, with golden and silver and beautiful fishtails, and their children’s children lived on, and they are the ones who make her love unforgettable. Looking at Sicheng now, with his sculpted jaw and rosy lips, phoenix eyes and perfectly arched brows, you’re willing to believe that the goddess of the sea was truly as breath-taking as the stories claim her to be.

Sicheng’s discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You open your mouth to ask, but he stumbles around, unable to look any longer at the shrine.

The atmosphere turns damp as you walk back down the steps, back to the peachy sands of the seashore. Sicheng refuses to elaborate despite your obvious hints, and you grow restless with each passing second.

You absentmindedly make your way towards the lion, and breathe out before climbing it. Sicheng stands at the base for a few seconds until you usher him to follow suit. He complies, not very reluctant, and soon you’re sitting in silence under the coastal sunset.

“Sicheng,” you begin, “are you going to tell m—”

“I don’t know.”

You purse your lips at his haste. He notices it and sighs, a rather sorrowful expression overtaking his features.

“I…my mother…I hate my mother sometimes,” he says softly, “But I’m not allowed to say that.”

You stay quiet, waiting for an explanation. You understand his hesitance to say something personal and you wont force him, but he looks so burdened, you wish he’d let some of his stress go sometimes.

“Well,” he continues, “she’s the sea goddess you guys love so much.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“My birth history…is a little…complicated.”

And so you let him elaborate; you wait patiently when his voice hitches, your ears tune in when he speaks without stop and you try to the understand the mess of a life the sea prince has. With a human father, who loved the sea so much he wished to be submerged in it for the rest of his life and was finally granted his wish, and a mother who literally descended from heaven, who barely has time for any of her children, even the one whom she claims to be special—Sicheng’s life certainly isn’t easy and you certainly can’t tell him that it’s okay. So you just listen, like you listen to the seashells, and the sound of the waves.

“She barely looks at me. Am I even her son?”

Sicheng sighs, exhausted from all the talking and you don’t know what comes over you but you run your fingers through his hair and gently pull his head down to rest on your shoulder. Sicheng sighs once more, but this one sounds more of relief and you smile to yourself.

The stars come out and you point out the ones you know to Sicheng, who turns his head sometimes and you feel his breath on your neck.

“My father worked so hard to be with the sea,” Sicheng mumbles, “If he finds me with a human, he won’t be very happy.”

Sicheng sits up straight as if he’s had a sudden revelation, and he turns to you with a determined look in his eyes. He leans in too fast for you to comprehend and places his mouth on yours, this time only a little longer, but pulls away nonetheless. Your ears turn hot and the beating of your heart is only amplified the longer you look at Sicheng’s wide-eyed expression.

“Sorry!” his voice has a sudden inflection. “I wanted to show you something, but it’s underwater so…”

Right. Of course. Kisses mean nothing to the children of the sea.

You nod, and he jumps off the rocks, waiting for you to follow. You walk behind him, the sand cool under your bare feet as you try to forget the lips of the sea prince on yours.

The warmth of the seawater almost makes you sigh but the sight of Sicheng in his most natural form makes you more so. Every ebb and flow of his movement mirror the sea itself and you can feel it in him, the beauty of life and its drift.

Sicheng holds your hand as he guides you through each tavern and cove till you reach a particularly dark area. But it isn’t dark for too long when you see the glowing green carpet of the ocean floor. The anemones pulsate with a sort of otherworldly light, changing colour with every blink and Sicheng motions at you to take a seat on the rocks just at the edge of the new world. Some fishes swim in and out, twirling and tumbling around in a happy dance and you beam at them, almost wanting to join them.

You don’t know how long you stay there, but it’s long enough for you to forget your life on land. It’s marks, however, come back soon as you notice the filth of humanity in the waters near the shore and your blood would boil if it weren’t for Sicheng reassuring you.

“It’s okay”, he smiled, unbothered. “We were all seafoam once and we will be seafoam again.”

When the ocean reclaims what is hers.

When you get back to the surface, you’re more comfortable in your skin than before and you let yourself hug Sicheng goodbye, ignoring the rush of blood to your face. There are a few warning signs going off in your head—this isn’t what’s meant to be, he’s only doing this to rebel, he might not even care for you. It accelerates your fears more so to think about Miss Wei and her words that stung a little, the seed of doubt planted in your head.

You can never trust water. You must never trust water. It is fluid, ever changing and cares only for its own survival, even if it means swallowing whole cities and drowning the innocent.

You elementary teacher was more than cynical that day, and you were left wondering how the ocean had broken her heart to such jagged pieces that they scarred so. It left you a bit shaken.

“Are you okay?” Sicheng asks when you’re lost in thought, and you snap yourself back to reality.

“Yeah,” you say, with your most supportive smile.

“Did you know the whales think they can reach the stars,” Sicheng says with a fond smile. “They only realize when they reach the surface. That the entire universe isn’t full of water. They’re never disheartened, though.”

“You can talk to fishes?”

“No, but I understand them.”

Sicheng tilts his head to look up at the stars and you admire his profile. A creature so elegant, so magical, so unreal—he’s there right beside you, talking to you as a friend, as if you’ve known each other for years. As if you’re equal, as if you deserve to be equal.

But you forget everything when Sicheng smiles at you, when he looks like an ordinary boy with ordinary problems. His hands are never cold to you, like he so complains and for once, you’d like to hold them without any restriction.

Sicheng tenses up when you reach out to stroke his cheek, and you’d be embarrassed by now if he didn’t come closer to you, relishing your touch. You’d be even more embarrassed for leaning in if he didn’t at the same time. But you feel his breath on your lips and it’s enough for you to complete the kiss—a different kiss than before. It’s slower, for one, and Sicheng laughs somewhere into the kiss, unable to contain himself.

“You can’t do that!” you laugh with him.

“I just,” he says in between laughs, “I never thought you’d kiss me.”

“Did you not want me to?”

“I did,” he says, a little more sombre, “I did so bad.”

And so, under the moon smiling on at you, you share your second, third, fourth kisses with the boy whose breath smells like the sea breeze.

Sicheng shifts uncomfortably under his father’s gaze. It isn’t everyday he’s called for a meeting and although he’s got the hang of princely duties by now, he’d be a little disgruntled to be crowned king anytime soon. It’s not like he has a terrible relationship with his father either, but right now, the grim look on him does not let Sicheng relax.

“A human,” his father says, and Sicheng tenses up. “After all I did to save you from a miserable life up above, you still do this.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Not like that?”

“Yes.” Sicheng’s voice has a tremor to it. “I couldn’t leave the sea even if I wanted to.”

“So you’re going to make them leave their home?”

“No,” Sicheng says, a little mortified that he might have to ask that of you. “I’ll let it go if…if they don’t want to.”

“And stay here heartbroken?” His voice has softer edge to it now.

“Are you giving me a choice?”

“You’re going to sit and you’re going to think,” he says, regaining his stern tone, “and if you’re still not fine after that, there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

Sicheng nods, his heart heavy. What if you don’t even care that much, and he’s let himself fall? What if humans are truly as terrible as his teachers taught him? He’s never believed that, and he doesn’t think he will anytime soon. The dreams don’t lie, his teachers had said. But he does need to think, and he does need to sort out his own emotions. After all, a restricted life doesn’t call for much self-introspection.

When you don’t see Sicheng for a whole week, you panic a little. It’s also rained for three days straight, and you can’t stay at the beach for too long before the clouds gather up again to spill all their rage onto earth. The sea level has surged and although there’s a tsunami warning, you’re sure nothing too eventful will happen in this town of yours.

When you wake up to water at the entrance to your house, you’re proved wrong. It wasn’t exactly a tsunami, but a silent creeping of the sea level which no one can figure out yet.

Sicheng stands a few feet away, water up to his knees but without a tail like you’re used to seeing when he’s inside water. The golden lines painted across his face occasionally flicker alive before fading back into his normal skin tone. He grits his teeth and the scratches the back of his head like he’s guilty of something, and you wade towards him.

“Sicheng! What’s going on?” you say when you’re close enough.

“I need to talk to you,” he answers, his voice low and raspy. There are dark circles under his eyes and while his words send another bout of anxiety through you, you let him kiss you before you move further under the waters.

Sicheng sits beside you on top of the lion which is now mostly submerged except for the top part of it. He gulps twice before speaking.

“I dreamt of you,” he says, “I dreamt of you a long time ago.”

“I dreamt of you at the beginning of summer,” you state.

“I know. That’s the second time I dreamt of you.”

Sicheng purses his lips before running his fingers through his hair. You wait, breathless, as he comes up with some way to tell you whatever he has to say.

“We’re supposed to see our…our partners in our dreams,” he says, “My father panicked so much that he didn’t allow me on land till I was fifteen. Till I forgot about you.”

His father found out this time too, and that’s why you haven’t seen him all week, that’s why the sea’s been so disrupted the past three days. It doesn’t matter now, he says. He has the ocean on his side, he’s always had it on his side but he’s never realized that he deserves a happy ending. The sea goddess of luck and blessings, his mother dearest had a talk and if there’s one thing she’s done for her son except bring him to life, it’s giving him her blessings.

“Will you come with me?” he asks, “If I ask something so selfish, will you still...love me?”

Much to his apparent surprise, you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. The sea’s been kinder to you, and you’ve never had it in you to part with it, never found the land interesting enough to explore. You’ve always been running, and you don’t mind at all now—leaving the running behind. Sicheng cups your face before pulling you into a deeper, fuller kiss and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders, sighing against his touch.

Sicheng places his forehead against yours, and whispers something that you’re too caught up in the moment to understand.

“You’re mine?” he asks, a little unsure, his eyes still wide. “You’re mine now? You can come with me?”

“Mhm,” you nod, a dizzying feeling taking over as you melt into his touch.

And just like Sicheng said, you’ll all be seafoam someday. But for now, you can live in his reality, in his endless ocean. You don’t think for one second that his palms are cold to touch for they warm you enough to make you keep them pressed against your cheek.

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cyabae · 5 years

Text

Bedtime Stories Against the World - Day 8

Day 8: Time travel | Fate

Words: 1023

Haha, this series features so much modern AU but after yesterday’s angst some fluff felt like a good choice. This is my 8th story for @kakaobiweek2019

>> AO3! <<

Kakashi had never romantic enough to believe in fate. Sure, every action had an outcome corresponding to it which was a fairly simple phenomenon. One thing led to another, and there was nothing too mysterious about it.

However, Obito seemed to challenge some of the beliefs Kakashi had taken for granted.

Their relationship was based on many little coincidences. The chances of them two meeting had been practically zero since Kakashi was a mere teacher whilst Obito was…

Well, he didn’t talk much about his profession. He didn’t have a specific job, he did projects.

There was a low budget theater production which kept him busy along with several protests against Konoha’s human rights violations.

Kakashi wasn’t too fond of them either but his spirit was a homebody instead of an activist which was why he never intended to get involved with rebellious freaks. He had just heard that one of his students had some relatives working with a water puppetry show.

The school didn’t provide too much money for field trips but Kakashi had promised his class that a field trip was going to happen.

After all, none of the students had failed the previous course. Desperate times called for desperate measures – and relative discounts.

This is where life had gotten weird.

Kakashi had ignored all the warning signs from the shady, abandoned cinema to the posters on the hallway. He’d also tried to ignore the fact that one of his students was behaving worse than ever.

But thinking back, some kids weren’t able to stay still for longer than a few minutes.

During the first half of the performance, two things had become apparent.

It’d taken six lines to figure out that Akatsuki Free Productions was very, very biased against the Konoha government and that their show wasn’t suitable for the state school students.

Kakashi had been thinking about the explanation to cover for his mistake when the second problem had emerged. One of his students – the trouble making one – had gone missing in the blink of an eye.

A sense of dread had filled Kakashi when he’d realized that the theater production could hold him accountable for possible damages.

The theater production had seemed pretty shady, and Kakashi hadn’t planned to deal with any suspicious people.

That’s why Kakashi had stood up and walked past the seats, ignoring the confused looks of his well-behaved students.

Once he’d searched the empty hallways, he’d seen a flash of an orange coat without being able to catch the troublemaker.

He’d ended up searching the backstage. He could’ve sworn that he saw the familiar orange flash right before bumping into someone.

And that’s how Kakashi met Obito. Needless to say, this encounter hadn’t gone particularly well.

Actually, they’d cussed at each other for a solid minute before Obito had asked what was a visitor doing in the area anyway. After Kakashi had gathered up what had been left of his pride, he’d told the reason and gained a very sour look.

He’d found the missing lamb eventually, though. The boy had been trying on some weird masks in the bathroom.

What had been the boy’s reasoning for this? Kakashi couldn’t tell.

He’d congratulated himself for preventing the worst disaster and encouraged his student to leave the stolen masks there.

Life had a weird sense of humor.

Late at that night, Kakashi had noticed that his keys were missing. He’d been ready to head home after going through a big pile of essays.

The keys weren’t found in the school building.

Kakashi had realized that keys did fall out of people’s pockets when they bumped into grumpy assholes.

Akatsuki Free Production wasn’t exactly a legal organization.

They didn’t share their contact information.

Kakashi’s only choice had been to go back to the theater building, hoping for the best.

Coincidentally, Obito had heard Kakashi’s frustrated knocks on the front door. He claimed that he’d had some sort of brain malfunction which was the only reason why he had opened the door.

Obito didn’t seem to regret this decision. He’d actually helped Kakashi with the searching – to get rid of him faster, of course – and they’d exchanged a few words during the process.

The keys had been found but after the incident, they’d kept pumping into each other everywhere, often times very literally.

The amount of those regularly irregular occurrences had gotten frustrating.

Looking back, it seemed that the universe wanted them to tolerate one another.

Kakashi had decided to prove himself that there was no such thing as fate. Asking Obito out for a drink had seemed like a perfect plan.

That had happened during the previous full moon but the moon had come and gone, and now it was waxing.

And the date night went on.

Technically they’d left Kakashi’s house many times by now but Obito never went back to his place. They didn’t count the time when Obito had fetched some basic items and extra clothes.

Kakashi turned the shower off. He stepped out, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

Obito had just brushed his teeth. He looked absolutely gorgeous standing in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but a black pair of boxers. Kakashi pressed a tiny kiss on the nape of his neck as he circled his arms around the man.

“We could have another round?” Kakashi mumbled against Obito’s shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses there.

“You’re such a pervert,” Obito informed but a tiny moan escaped his lips as Kakashi gave his round ass a gentle, grateful rub. It’d been through a lot.

“Is that a problem?” Kakashi asked with the most angelic tone he could muster. He was pretty happy with it even though he could see through the mirror that Obito was rolling his eyes.

Obito muttered something about Kakashi being all of his problems before turning around and pulling Kakashi into a long, passionate kiss. Maybe it was true, maybe they were each other’s worst problems and now life wanted them to solve one another.

If this was the case, Kakashi was more than happy to be romantic enough to believe in fate.

#kakaobiweek2019 #kakaobi #my writing #bedtime stories against the world

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thinkyoureholy · 6 years

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Blood Lust [1]

Requested by @what-muses : May I request a Sehun/reader fanfic that it's the future and vampires have taken the world and the surviving humans are either blood banks or their servants? Sehun the vampire of course xD. Please and thank you

[a/n: this will be a relatively short story...i think...]

Pairing : Oh Sehun / Reader

Genre : Angst, fluff, suggestive language, Vampire! AU

Words : 2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13. Pt 14. Pt 15.

[Set in the year 2145]

-100 Years Ago; 3rd person P.O.V-

“How the hell are we supposed to kill these things?!” The U.S head of security yelled out in the middle of the meeting.

The world leaders were all having a meeting to try and get rid of the things that threatened the whole world’s population. These creatures had appeared out of nowhere, the outer appearance letting them blend in with the rest of humanity but they were far from being human. These creatures came out of hiding once they figured that they could wipe the human race out with a snap of their fingers. One of theirs was worth at least a thousand human soldiers and then some. They were practically unkillable. The humans have been fighting against these things for the good part of thirty years. The overall population having decreased significantly over those years. The leaders of the world had no idea how to kill them so they only had one thing left to do, surrender.

Hours into this meeting the humans called on the one tormenting them. He came as soon as they called, a smug smile on his face as he walked into the room like he owned the place. The humans were too afraid to even look at him all but a few averted their gaze. The ones that kept their eyes trained on him were starstruck as they took in his flawless features. He had ridiculously sharp features at that; striking eyes, plump lips, a sharp nose with a sharp jawline to tie in his whole face. It was in that moment they knew that there was no way this man could be human, he was just too perfect. He met each and every one of theirs eyes, flashing his brilliant bright red eyes, the humans cowering in fear.

“Let’s begin shall we? Why don’t we start with names? I’ll go first, “ He said with a wicked smile, “Oh Sehun and believe me...the pleasure, is all mine.”

-Present Time; Y/N’s P.O.V-

I ground my teeth together as I kept my gaze straight ahead, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. Pissed was an understatement to how I felt, I was absolutely livid. I had just been sold to the most powerful vampire in the country for a measly two hundred fucking dollars. Not only was I livid at the amount my previous owner had taken for me but the fact that I was sold in the first place. I was a living breathing human being for fucks sake, why do I have to be subjected to this life of fear and humiliation?

I could barely keep the anger and disgust in my eyes at bay as my new “owner” came to stand in front of him. I set my jaw at seeing a smirk settle on his face, resisting the urge to scoff and roll my eyes. He must have sensed my feelings, the smirk on his face growing into a full blown grin.

“You’re gonna be a handful aren’t you?” He asked, his voice as smooth as silk, his condescending tone not going unnoticed, “Will I have to train you properly? It seems like your previous master didn’t work out all your kinks.”

“No.” I responded curtly, my fingernails digging into my palm.

“No what?”

I could feel that the vein across my forehead was about to burst, already hating his guts, “No...Master.”

He chuckled at the word, straightening out, “As much as others like their...pets...calling them master...I prefer sir.”

He looked at me expectantly, having fun watching me hold myself back. I remained defiant, keeping my head held high. This seemed to irritate him, his eyes flashing red in warning. I remained unfazed, that was until his hand came up to grab at my throat, squeezing hard enough to where I was finding it harder and harder to breathe as the seconds ticked by. I tried keeping my face blank but the longer he kept my neck in his hold the more my resolve was starting to break. Before I could pass out he let up on his hold, his hand still on my neck.

“I expect an answer whenever I speak to you.” He said in a gravelly voice.

I kept my lips shut causing him to apply pressure on my neck once more. I winced as I nodded but that didn’t seem to appease him.

“Use your words.”

“Yes...sir.” I managed to choke out, his hand finally leaving my throat as those words left my mouth.

“Get out, I’ll see what I do with you tomorrow.” He said, turning away from me.

I bowed deeply before turning on my heel and walked out of the room with the little dignity I had left. As soon as I closed the door behind me I felt my knees give out, having to hold onto the doorknob to keep myself from falling. I took in deep breaths to regulate my frantic heartbeat, pushing myself off the door once I knew I could walk without collapsing.

“Why do you keep on getting in the way?” He yelled out, infuriated.

I tried to not let the fear in my eyes show but it was proving to be a difficult thing to do as I took in his appearance. He had blood running down the sides of his mouth and staining his shirt. His eyes were the brightest red I’ve ever seen, almost fluorescent in a way. What caused me to stumble backwards at seeing his eyes wasn’t the color of his irises but the whites of his eyes weren’t white anymore, they were pitch black; much different to how I saw them weeks ago. I had never seen a vampire with eyes like his, the whites of his eyes turning black was the first time I’ve seen or heard of anything like this.

“Why do you insist on becoming a nuisance, huh? Why are you interrupting my meal?!” He shouted, his voice booming.

I flinched at every word but I somehow still had the courage to defy him, “You’re killing her! You’ve already taken as much as she can give! You have others to chose from!”

He chuckled at that, a smirk making its way onto his face as he let her almost lifeless body fall to the floor. I spared her a glance to see if she was really breathing, the subtle rise and fall of her chest putting me at ease. That didn’t last long, Sehun appearing mere inches in front of me at the blink of an eye. I had no way to go as he cornered me, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face as he grabbed my chin in between his thumb and index finger.

“I have others to chose from? What if I chose you, huh? Will you still intervene then?” He asked, his voice low as he leaned in.

At this point I was trembling in his hold but I stole a quick glance at the girl on the floor. She was so young, no older than sixteen and she has already been on the verge of death countless times, all because of him. In the short time that I’ve been here I’ve come to realize Sehun has no self control. He’s gone through at least four of the people he uses to keep himself alive. This wasn’t how he was supposed to treat them. He was only supposed to take what he needed to survive for a few days before feeding again but he just kept taking, no regard for the life he was ending in the process. He was a glutton, plain and simple, no amount of blood was able to quench his thirst so he simply just bled his blood banks dry.

“Others to chose from? Really? Well how would you feel if I chose you to take her place, huh? Would you still stick your nose in places where you don’t belong?” He asked, taking a step closer to me with every step consequently making me take one back to try and get away from him.

He smiled a sickeningly sweet smile at seeing the terrified look on my face. I would be lying if I said I didn’t fear for my life during every minute I spent in his presence. I ground my teeth together to keep the whimper from escaping my lips as he grabbed my chin in between his thumb and index finger roughly, making me look him in the eye. At this point I was trembling like a leaf in the middle of a thunderstorm. Sehun seeming to enjoy how I trembled before him more than I thought, an amused chuckle falling from his lips.

“I told you to answer me when I’m talking to you.” He all but growled out, pushing me further into the corner.

“I’m not like them...I was sold to you for a different purpose.” I said, backing down and becoming complacent almost immediately.

He scoffed at my answer, expecting more of a fight out of me, “If you don’t want to turn out like the others then I suggest you mind your own fucking business. I won’t hesitate to drink you dry, I can promise you that.”

He threw my head back into the wall harshly, making my vision spin for a few seconds before a throbbing pain spread from the back of my head. I felt something trickle down the back of my neck, the smell of it making Sehun turn back to me, his eyes still on full display. I panicked, covering the back of my head with my hand as I scurried out of the room, making sure to close the door behind me.

…..

I hung my head in shame as Yoseob, Sehun’s butler, carried the girl out of Sehun’s room. I watched on with my fists clenched tightly, the girl having been dead for a couple of hours. I could’ve saved her if only I wasn’t such a coward, the girl would’ve still been alive to see another day.

“Y/N come here.” Sehun called out to me.

I sighed heavily, controlling my emotions before I went into the room, keeping my eyes off the pool of blood on the floor . I kept my head down as I stood in front of him, my hands behind my back.

“Look at me.”

I did as he said, raising my head to see his eyes were still a vibrant red but the black surrounding it was gone, replaced by the white once more. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion but said nothing, keeping my mouth shut.

“How long have you been here?” He asked, his eyes shifting back to their normal dark brown.

“Two months, sir.”

“And what do you do here?” He asked, continuing his little interrogation.

“I...help Yoseob keep the mansion in order.” I answered, confused as to where he was going with this.

“Doing what exactly? Give me a detailed explanation, don’t make me ask again.”

“I take care of the garden, clean the rooms, and make sure the others are fed.”

He gave a small smile at my answer, crossing his arms over his chest, “And where in your job description does it say you’re allowed to interrupt me from my meal?”

“I-”

“Wait no...I don’t pay you do I? Well keeping you alive should be payment enough right?” He said with a smirk, talking to me as if I was some little kid.

I could feel the anger in me bubbling up to the surface, “Nowhere in the agreement between your kind and mine does it say you can kill us off for your own sick pleasure.”

“Oh? Really now? What is a puny little human like you going to do about it? You going to kill me?” He said, taking a step closer to me with every word, “Last time I checked your kind has no idea how to kill us yet. Everything you thought you knew was a lie. You can’t kill us with a wooden stake to the heart, the sun does nothing to us, garlic, holy water, wooden crosses, silver, they do absolutely nothing. You lot signed over your lives to us that day one hundred years ago, I should know...I was there.”

“Know your place in this world. Go against me again and I won’t hesitate to snap that pretty little neck of yours.”

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squirenonny · 6 years

Note

How you even get people interested your fics, asking for a friend thanks

Aw, man, isn’t that a question for the ages?

So I’m gonna preface this by saying that there’s no magic quick-fix to attract more readers (however much we all wish there were.) Writing for the big ships or posting a fic featuring a popular trope/AU when it’s popular is going to get you more readers than writing niche fics, but chasing trends isn’t going to make you happy and it might even hurt the quality of your work. When you post and whether there was some big fandom or IRL event that drew attention away from the newly published pages (or flooded them, burying your fic under ten pages of Klance week ficlets or whatever) can also play a big role.

Secondly, and I know you’re probably not going to like hearing this, try not to worry too much about numbers like hits/kudos/bookmarks/reviews. They don’t mean as much as you think, and they aren’t a reflection on your skill as a writer or the value of your story. The best thing to do is to find some other way to measure success–maybe it’s how many words you’ve written, maybe it’s whether you stick to a consistent update schedule. Maybe it’s reaching that scene you’ve been dying to write for forever. But make sure it’s something that’s in your control, because depending on the faceless masses for validation sucks, and you deserve better.

Okay, on to some advice for attracting readers.

1. Rework your summary. Confession time: I hate writing summaries. Hate it. I’m already not good with short form and trying to sum up a story in a hundred words or less is even worse. But it’s one of the most important skills for a writer to learn, since it’s your one shot to get people interested enough to click that link. If you’re stuck, here are some suggestions, with examples of how I’ve used them for my own stories.

Pick a (short!) excerpt from your piece. Maybe a brief exchange of dialogue, maybe the opening line, maybe something else. It should be something that doesn’t require context to understand and that makes people want to find out what happens next (or what led up to this moment.) Example:

This psychic—Lance the Lucid, according to the posters, and Keith wasn’t even going to comment on that—was a charlatan, plain and simple, and Keith kind of wanted to punch him. Sure, Lance knew how to put on a show, but Keith doubted there was anything more to the act than charm and dramatic flair.

Pidge sighed, catching Keith’s eyes. “At this point, they’re pretty much our only hope.”

If you’re writing an AU, especially a canon divergence AU, put the focus on what you’re changing. Example:

Shiro used to dream of Earth. That was before the Arena, before Haggar, before he joined the Galra army. At least he has an ally, a Galra officer named Keith. Together they plan to bring down Zarkon’s empire from the inside.

Matt never thought he’d see his family again. Then he crash-lands on Earth and Pidge rescues him from Garrison custody. But his homecoming is short-lived. Now the Holt siblings, along with Lance and Hunk, must find the Voltron lions and free the universe from Galra control.

Or: Galra!Keith, double agent!Shiro, red paladin!Matt, black paladin!Allura, full series AU.

If you’re writing something tropey, or a twist on a cliche, maybe highlight that. Example:

[following a short description of plot] Canonverse Soulmate AU with romantic and platonic soulmates (and some gray areas in between)

Sometimes the simplest thing to do, especially for shorter stories, is to do a one-two punch in your summary. The set-up and the punchline. The scenario and the twist. The status quo and the catastrophe. Think “Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.” Or better yet, the next part of that intro–defining the Avatar and then hitting us with “and then he vanished for a hundred years whoops.” Whatever you do, keep it short. Example:

When Keith was seven years old, he spent a year in La Quinta with a boy named Lance, the best friend he ever had. Ten years later, Lance and Keith reunite at the Garrison–only Keith doesn’t remember who Lance is.

The most important thing to keep in mind is that shorter is (usually) better, but you want to include enough to hook readers’ attention. It’s hard, I know, but keep working at it and it’ll get easier. Seriously–write five completely different summaries for your fic, all under 100 words. Give yourself a 5 or 10 minute limit for each so you don’t agonize too much. Set them aside for a while, then come back and see what works. Or write a list of all the things you’re most excited about in a given piece, cut out any major spoilers, and try to work one or two of the others into your summary.

2. Be strategic about your tags. If you’re posting on AO3, use tags people are going to search. Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, any tropes that feature prominently, any relationships (especially gen ones) that are a major focus. Be wary of overtagging–Shatt shippers, for example, know all too well how common it is to search for Shatt and turn up only Klance fics with a passing mention of Shiro and Matt going on a date. But plenty of people search for specific tags in trying to find new stories. Use that.

Similarly, if you post on Tumblr, use your tags efficiently. The first five tags on a post are the ones that the post will show up in (i.e. if you have a tag tracker or go to tumblr.com/tagged/____) Tumblr’s search looks at the first twenty tags, I believe. So use your first five tags for either the most popular or the most niche aspects of your fic. (i.e. tagging it “klance” will have a larger potential audience, though it’ll get buried pretty quickly; tagging “matt holt” or “shatt” gives you a much smaller potential audience, but one that’s more starved for content so will probably click your link at a higher rate.) Prioritize, and leave your organization tags/tag commentary for after.

3. Your first chapter should pack a punch. This one may be a little harder to put into practice if you have an existing fic you’re trying to drum up interest in, but it’s worth keeping in mind. If your summary and tags get people through the door, your first chapter (in a multichapter fic)/your first few paragraphs (for any fic) is where people decide whether or not this is worth reading. Goals to strive for:

Your first line, or at most your first paragraph, should hook reader’s interest. It should ask an implicit question–what’s happening? How did we get here?

(the equivalent of) Your first page (a couple hundred words, tops) should establish the situation and forward momentum. Diving straight into action with no context can be confusing, but lingering too long on exposition can make people tune out before they get to the good part. I’ve heard it said that the first 250 words should establish three things: character, context, and motive. Who are we focused on, what’s happening right now, and why does it matter? There are exceptions to every rule, of course, but make sure you know why you’re deviating if you decide to do so.

Your first chapter (assuming you have more than one) should leave people wanting more. Don’t leave them in the middle of the set-up, or they may not be motivated to continue. But don’t give them everything they need to see where this is going, or they won’t bother waiting to find out.

**Update: There’s now a follow-up post talking a little bit more about how to start a story, with examples!**

4. Persistence is key. Out of all the advice I can give you, this one’s going to be the hardest to follow, I’m sure. It can feel like you’re throwing words at a void and getting nothing back. Sometimes you have a real slow start. Sometimes you’re writing self-induldgent rarepare stuff, and it seems like you and two other people are the only ones who ship it–and those other two never comment.

The thing is, writing fic (especially as a newcomer or writing niche fic) is like playing Marco Polo at a death metal concert. Not only are you shouting into a sea of noise, but you’re also trying to find the relative handful of people who are going to answer. But here’s the thing: if you yell “Marco” once and get no response, then go home, you’ll never find those other people. If you keep yelling–maybe stay in one spot and yell over and over, maybe wander around calling out every so often–you’ll find someone, and then you’ll find someone else, and then maybe someone else will start shouting with you and find three more people. It starts slow, but it builds momentum.

In terms of fic, though, what does that mean? It means keep writing. Maybe keep hammering away at this one fic–excellent if it’s something you’re excited about, something you need to write no matter what. You keep putting it out there and you’ll start to beat back the wave of random chance that conspires to bury your fic because of weird posting times or an onslaught from a fandom event.

Maybe write a bunch of shorter fics, participate in bangs and exchanges and other events. You might hook readers with your Klance soulmate AU that you did for a secret santa, then tempt them into trying your other stuff (true story.) You might make friends by chatting in a big bang’s discord, and they can help you write more attention-grabbing summaries, or can signal boost on Tumblr. (Or just be that one person who stans your writing and keeps you motivated through low hit counts on AO3.) Or you might just hit a whole bunch of people’s rarepair/nich buttons and start building a following that way.

Or maybe it means going a little more off the rails. Try a different fandom. Write original fiction. Write an 80k Marauders-at-Hogwarts fic for yourself, edit it, and only then start posting a chapter a week so you can grow your reader base without the low number of comments chipping away at your motivation because joke’s on you, hit counter. I already have the next chapter done. And the one after that, and all of them, so they’re still coming even if no one’s reading. ha-ha! (Also a true story.)

Look, the point is, building a reader base is hard, and it’s frustrating, and a lot if it is based on luck and fandom trends, and you’re always going to want to get caught up in the numbers. Even once you have readers, you might get frustrated because the tropey shipfic with a shoddy plot that you BS’d your way through has ten times as much love as the lovingly crafted, well-plotted AU that you’ve poured literally thousands of hours into. Because writers are all starved for feedback, and with the exception of people lucky enough (or unlucky enough) to hit a fandom sweet spot and get shot straight into the realms of That One Fic Everyone Knows About–with the exception of those freak accidents of fate, the people who have sizable followings are almost always people who just plain love to write and do it regardless of what anyone else says or does.

So don’t write for the readers. Write for yourself first, and love what you write. Write stories that need to be told. Stories you can’t bear not to tell–because when you care that much about a story, it shows, and when the right people find your story, they’re going to love that you love it. Trust me. The right people are out there. You just have to keep shouting until you find them.

#anon #answers #writing #advice #writing advice #long post

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gamerwoo · 5 years

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[Tales from the Pack] Seungcheol: Stubborn (Part Three)

Characters: Seungcheol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, slight angst, mentions of violence and blood

Word count: 2,435

Previous | Next | Stubborn Masterlist

Seungcheol had never been more panicked than when he woke up early in the morning to an empty bed when he knew you were there before. The sun was starting to peek in through the windows so he knew you escaped in the dark, which only fueled his fear. All sorts of animals and creatures lurked in the forest, especially at night, so anything could’ve happened to you.

He threw the blankets off of him and leaped out of bed, running out the door and down the stairs. The only people awake were gathered in the kitchen: Joshua, Jihoon, Junhui, Minghao, and Hansol. They looked up seeing their alpha run by the kitchen before backtracking and looking at them worriedly.

“Have you seen _____?” he asked them.

The five of them looked between each other, shaking their heads slowly.

“No, why?” Joshua asked. “She’s not in your room?”

“If she was in my room, do you think I’d be looking for her?” he snapped, unable to control his emotions when he was so nervous.

“She ran away?” Hansol sounded surprised. “How'd she manage?”

“It doesn’t matter, I need to find her!”

“I can go with you,” Minghao offered with a shrug, setting his tea down on the counter.

Seungcheol nodded, going for the door, “Then let’s go.”

Right before they left the house, Seungcheol heard a laugh from Junhui, “When Cheol goes to sleep, he loses his mate; when Hao goes to sleep, he finds his.”

Following his senses and his heart -- as cheesy as it sounded, the mating pull really helped -- led the two deep into the forest. They tried to stay quiet, afraid you would run away and get into more trouble if you knew they were looking for you. Their footsteps were silent except for the soft crunching of dead leaves on the ground, and the few twigs that would snap under their weight.

Neither of them knew why you would’ve left or where you would’ve gone to. Seungcheol explained that you went to sleep without quarrel after you were woken up by the fighting. In fact, you’d seemed the most content since you’d woken up at the house.

The two had been trekking through the forest for hours now, though, and still couldn't find you. The sun was high in the sky but the trees were shading them as they seemed to walk in circles all morning and into early afternoon. While he could smell your scent prominently, he couldn’t see you anywhere. It made him fear the worst, like you getting ripped apart by some animal and strewn about the forest, which was why they could sense you but couldn’t find you.

Minghao sighed, tilting his head back to look up at the sky, “Has it really been five hours?”

Seungcheol looked at the younger pack mate, trying to keep the calm façade but easily failing, “Where could she have gone?”

“Uh…Cheol?” Minghao put a hand above his eyes to block the sun, and pointed up into a tree where he saw a shadow leaning against the trunk as it balanced on a branch. “Does that weird lump look familiar?”

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Minghao’s, seeing the familiar sleepy lump that was you. He let out a sigh of relief and immediately ran to the tree to retrieve you.

“How’d she get up there?” the foreign wolf wondered. “And how is she still sleeping?”

Seungcheol just ignored his questions as he scaled the tree and made it to where you were. He saw you were definitely still sleeping, your eyelids twitching with your dream and your breathing slow and even. His scanned you as best as he could for any injuries before trying to figure out how to get you down.

“Hao,” Seungcheol called down to the boy now standing at the base of the tree, “can I trust you to catch her?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, moving under the branch and holding his arms out. “I have your power, don’t I? Besides, just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean we’re all weak like humans.”

“Well, I don’t want to wake her up, either,” he grumbled, holding your body out over the ground before sucking in a breath and letting you drop.

When you landed safely in Minghao’s arms -- only shifting a bit but your eyes staying closed and your breathing even with sleep -- he let out a relieved sigh and got himself down.

“Your mate sleeps in weird places,” Minghao noted, handing you off to Seungcheol. “And she sleeps very deeply.”

“Don’t call her that, she might hear,” he frowned, his features only softening once he looked down at your sleeping face. “And don’t talk to me about weird mates when yours is just as odd. Now, let’s get her back home before she wakes up. Maybe if we keep her around Danbi, she’ll be a bit more comfortable.”

“Isn’t Danbi constantly surrounded?” the younger wolf reminded him as the two trekked back toward their house. “You know she’s Chan’s favorite person in the house, too. The last thing you’d want is one of the special ones around _____.”

Seungcheol shot him a glare, making Minghao remember he was talking to one of the “special” wolves, “Chan knows how to handle himself. It’s more Soonyoung that I’m worried about. He’s always too willing to use his power.”

Out of the five wolves that had powers, Seungcheol was only worried about keeping you away from one of them. It seemed simple enough in his head, but he knew how Soonyoung could get. There was no way that he’d be able to keep you and the other alpha separated for long, so he’d have to end up explaining everything to you eventually before Soonyoung made things worse.

Although, he was still the most worried about the whole mate thing.

The walk back to the house wasn’t nearly as long as it took them to find you. From where they found you, it was a straight shot back. When they left to look for you, they were wandering in circles for hours.

“They’re back!” Seungcheol heard Seungkwan announce, and he assumed it was to Danbi, who was probably excited to meet the newest edition to the pack.

The door flew open just as the three of you arrived. You were still fast asleep in Seungcheol’s arms -- you did stay awake a good portion of the night to eat, and then your sleeping was interrupted again by Wonwoo and Mingyu, so it wasn’t a huge surprise you were so tired -- so Seokmin put a finger to his lips to tell the overly-excited wolves to keep quiet. The look on Seungcheol’s face made them think twice about saying much of anything, really.

Wonwoo’s younger sister pushed her way through the pack, her sulking mate following behind her -- thankfully, he didn’t seem super aggressive anymore, so the suppressants Soonyoung asked for must’ve worked. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, although concern took over her features when she saw how dirty you looked. Not to mention she assumed you had passed out somewhere after trying to run away.

“What happened to her?” Danbi wondered softly, looking up to Seungcheol for an answer.

“I can explain later,” he promised, his tone low as he slowly walked through the small crowd, making them separate. “I don’t want her to wake up with too many people around. Would you want to wait with me until she wakes up, though?”

Of course, the girl was more than happy to do so. She was having a hard time getting Mingyu to stop clinging to her, so this gave her an excuse to pry him off of her -- especially before Wonwoo noticed, but he was in town for the next couple hours. Plus, she was excited to meet the newest addition to the pack -- assuming you decided to stay once Seungcheol told you everything, but they all knew that probably was a slim chance.

She followed behind Seungcheol as he carried you up the stairs and back to his room. He explained mostly everything to Danbi before he decided to leave while Danbi went to get a damp cloth to clean off your face, neck, arms, and hands. He’d come back when she was finished getting you cleaned up and in less dirty clothes, but for now, he wanted to give you your space.

Somehow, sleeping made you more tired than when you originally went to sleep. First, you had dreamed Seungcheol had attacked you while you slept, pinning you down to the bed as he bared his fangs in your face and bit into your shoulder. His claws dug into your flesh, but no noise seemed to come from your mouth no matter how loud you tried to scream. It was just airy breaths that came out. You had managed to escape just barely, but you were a battered and bloodied mess as you wandered the forest, trying to find your way back to town.

But then, in the middle of crying and shouting for help, you had heard a girl’s soft voice telling you it would be okay. You found a clearing in the forest where the girl was standing, hair billowing softly in the breeze as she stood among a field of soft grass and flowers. Something about her seemed calming; trustworthy.

“Do not fear the wolves,” she had told you with a sweet smile, her light colored eyes seeming to look through you, “they won’t harm you.”

Cautiously, you had walked up to her. She seemed to sense your fear and held a hand out to you, the smile widening. It wasn’t menacing, though. It was something motherly, almost.

“I’ve never seen you before,” she mused as you stepped closer, resting your hand in hers. That seemed to please her. “You must be new to the pack. Maybe…maybe someone’s mate…”

She had a slight accent when she spoke, but you couldn’t tell where it was from. You hadn’t met too many foreigners even though you knew a lot of them had migrated here. A lot of war went on outside the country, which was why you never left.

“M-mate?” you questioned meekly. You could hardly remember the brief mention from Seungcheol of the word.

She laughed, the sound like music in the air, “I’ll let someone else explain that one to you. Now, please rest. Whoever’s watching over you must be worried sick.”

You knew she was speaking about the pack. This dream of yours was definitely weird. First, you were fearing the wolves, and now your subconscious was trying to tell you not to. Was this girl even in your subconscious? When your hands touched, it felt…too real.

Then she was gone, leaving you in the field of flowers. Unable to resist the thought of resting, you sat down under the warm sun and curled up, closing your eyes as the sweet perfume of the flowers filled your nose.

And then, you were suddenly being awoken to the feeling of a cool, damp cloth being gently rubbed up and down the skin of your arm. You separated your eyelids only a little, opening them wider when you realized you didn’t recognize the person who was washing you.

It was a girl with familiar features, that seemed to look at you fondly while she cleaned your skin. She hadn’t noticed you’d woken up, but she was humming softly to herself as she worked.

“Oh!” she gasped softly when she finally glanced away from what she was doing to look at your face. “You’re awake. I hope you don’t try to run away again, I’d hate to--”

“Run away?” you mumbled, still groggy. With your other arm, you rubbed one eye. “I was sleeping…”

The girl frowned and cocked her head to one side. You noticed she looked a lot like the one that had made you pass out when you first arrived.

‘This must be Danbi.’

“You were gone this morning,” she informed you. “Seungcheol and Minghao had to go out to look for you. Seungcheol said he found you in a tree, fast asleep.”

This was definitely news to you. So…was the dream even a dream? Sure, you didn’t dream climbing into a tree, and Danbi didn’t seem to mention anything of you being found in a meadow, but you had actually wandered through the woods? That was very out of character for you.

Seeming to know you were awake now -- he probably heard your voice --Seungcheol had entered his bedroom with a smile and a look of relief on his face. “_____…you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Sleepy,” you admitted with a small laugh, the first half of your dream already slipping from your memory.

Remembering you weren’t properly introduced, Seungcheol gestured to the girl cleaning the dirt off of you, “This is Danbi, Wonwoo’s sister -- and Mingyu’s mate but that’s between us...and pretty much everybody except Wonwoo.”

“He can’t know,” Danbi nodded, the tone and look on her face indicating it was something she didn’t want to speak, nor think about. “This week is probably going to kill me, but we’ve done it before, so...”

The mention of the “m” word reminded you of your dream, and you began to mumble as you thought out loud, “She mentioned a mate…”

“What?” Seungcheol’s tone was sharper than before, making you whip your head to look at him. His gaze was intense but he didn’t look angry. “Who?”

You just shrugged, sitting yourself up -- you also noticed you were in new clothes now that were much less tight than your own, “I don’t know, some girl that was in my dream.”

Seungcheol and Danbi exchanged looks before Danbi stood with a soft sigh, “I suppose I’ll go look for Minghao. I hardly even got to spend time with _____, but whatever.”

“Thank you, Danbi!” Seungcheol called after her before the girl left the room. He turned back to you, resting a hand next to yours. “So…you didn’t run away?”

“No, although I dreamed I did.”

“Why?”

“Because…” you trailed off, already knowing he’d laugh at you.

“Because…?” he pressed, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

You looked down at your lap, rushing out a mumbled response, “…You tried to eat me…”

Seungcheol bit his lip to hold back a laugh, making you roll your eyes and turn away from him. He just chuckled and put his hand over yours.

“So then now would be a bad time to mention lunch, huh?” he guessed, half-jokingly.

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