#this is not meant to be an accurate representation of events

[futureshieldmaiden]

"You glance past the crystal structure on the side of his head, and as you look in, you can see gentle sparks like the tiniest fireworks going off. Which is normal. And you swear you can see two small shadowy shapes."

[skz-streamer]

2023 VMA's

<- BACK TO MASTERLIST

<- EVENTS TAB

Pairing: ot8 (skz) x fem!reader (9th member)

Genre: Fluff?, Crack? Idol Au

Warnings: suggestive kinda, a small mention of nudity with some outfits.

Notes: When I was watching the VMA's I KNEW I AHD TO DO SOMETHING. sooo here it is :) I realized I forgot to add their interview in here but whatever, also thing is literally all based off of Bongos because of their reactions to that performance LORDDD FUNNY AS HELL. so yea... im also insanely obsessed with them...

Summary: 2023 VMA's turned out to be a little funnier then you thought they would be.

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately face claims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count ~1.8k ;)

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As the van pulled up to the annual 2023 VMA's, the excitement among you and your fellow members of Stray Kids was palpable. This was a momentous occasion, the first time the group had the privilege of attending the prestigious awards show. The energy in the vehicle was infectious, a mix of nervous anticipation and uncontainable joy.

Inside the van, you couldn't help but admire the transformation of your fellow members. They were all dressed to the nines, their stylish suits and glamorous ensembles adding to the aura of excitement that filled the air. Hyunjin, in particular, had undergone a striking change for the occasion. He sported a fresh undercut, a hairstyle he had been yearning to try for a long time. The change suited him perfectly, adding to his already striking appearance.

As the only female member of Stray Kids, you knew that all eyes would be on you, so you had taken extra care with your outfit. You were dressed in a stunning Lapel blazer top button slit skirt set, which you had carefully chosen for the occasion. The top was a sleek black with slightly puffed-out shoulders, a V-neck with a stylish collar, and two buttons at the bottom. It exuded confidence and sophistication. The skirt, on the other hand, was a bit more daring. It hugged your body tightly, emphasizing your curves. It featured a daring slit that ran from the middle of your thigh down to your ankles.

Your choice of outfit had raised some eyebrows, with both the stylists and some of the boys expressing concern that it might be showing too much skin. However, you were quick to defend your choice, reminding them that VMA fashion was all about pushing boundaries and making bold statements. Growing up in the United States, you had been a dedicated fan of the VMA's for as long as you could remember. You had spent years watching the show, voting online, and dreaming of the day when you would be a part of it. Now, that dream had become a reality, and you were determined to make a memorable entrance.

As the van rolled towards the VMA venue, the nervous tension among you and the boys was prominent. Small talk filled the air, a feeble attempt to ease the apprehension that gripped each of you. It was clear that this was a significant moment, one filled with both excitement and trepidation.

You could sense the jitters in the van, a stark contrast to the exuberance that had filled it earlier. The boys were fidgeting, adjusting their suits, and stealing glances at each other. You, too, had thought that stepping onto the pink carpet would dissolve your nervousness, but as the van pulled up and the doors swung open, you were greeted by a frenzy of flashing cameras and enthusiastic shouts.

Cameras flashed from every direction, capturing your every move. The carpet was a vibrant sea of celebrities, some of whom you had admired for years. Your heart raced as you recognized familiar faces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of fangirling yourself. The sheer star power in the vicinity was overwhelming.

As you walked through the barricades and onto the pink carpet, you were swiftly directed to your designated spot, and the command to smile was given. Your outfit, though daring, suddenly seemed rather modest compared to some of the ensembles on display. Megan's netted, see-through dress and Cardi's low-cut attire were enough to make anyone do a double-take. The boys' jaws nearly hit the ground, especially when Jeongin accidentally bumped into Doja Cat, who was rocking an absolute see-through dress.

Jeongin stammered an apology, and Doja Cat simply smiled and continued on her way. The boys' expressions were priceless, a mixture of shock, amazement, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. You couldn't help but at their shared amused look, one that communicated, "Did you see her outfit?!"

You didn't need words to convey your thoughts; you your raised eyebrow and rolled your eyes, the boys interpreting it as an “I told you so virgins”, one of your most used lines. The boys understood, and though they didn't say it out loud, their sheepish grins and laughter betrayed their astonishment. Clearly, they were not entirely prepared for the bold fashion choices that often graced the VMA pink carpet.

As you made your way inside the building and found your seats, you realized that you weren't in the front row, but you were still pretty close to the stage. The excitement continued to build within you as you looked around at the familiar faces in the audience. Growing up watching these artists and admiring their work, you couldn't wait for the performances to begin. The nerves from earlier had started to fade, replaced by a sense of anticipation and wonder.

The atmosphere inside the VMA venue was electric as you and the boys chatted excitedly before the performances began. You took the opportunity to introduce some of the artists to them, explaining their music and significance. While most of the artists were already familiar to the boys, you could tell they were particularly excited about Demi Lovato's performance. It wasn't a surprise, given that you had caught them listening to their music in the practice room on multiple occasions, either vibing or dancing.

You, on the other hand, were eagerly anticipating the performances by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion. Their recent collaboration on the song "Bongos" had become one of your favorites, and you couldn't wait to see if they would perform it live. You had a feeling it would be a showstopper.

The show began with NLE Choppa and Nelly, delivering a bold and energetic opening performance. The boys were starting to get into the groove of the VMA's, and you couldn't help but chuckle at some of their flustered moments during the performance, especially when there was some intense "ass-shaking" involved. It was undoubtedly a cultural difference they were experiencing.

As the night continued, you watched Olivia Rodrigo's performance, knowing that Felix was a fan of hers. You couldn't help but notice the reactions of your members to her high notes, particularly Han's expression of awe.

Then came the moment you had been waiting for—Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion's performance of "Bongos." You knew that the boys were in for a surprise, especially with the explicit lyrics and slang used by the two artists. You were sitting next to Changbin, who seemed engrossed, a smirk playing on his lips. You were equally captivated by the performance, and you and Han matched each other's energy as you sang along to the lyrics. You were well-versed in the song, so you had no qualms about singing the explicit parts.

The boys' reactions were priceless. Felix and Chan, who were fluent in English, appeared somewhat surprised by the lyrics, but they couldn't look away from the mesmerizing performance. Jeongin's mouth hung open, and Hyunjin and Changbin were engrossed in a hushed conversation, probably trying to decipher some of the slang. It got so loud that toward the end, both Changbin and Hyunjin turned to face the wall, clearly flustered.

You couldn't resist teasing them, tapping their shoulders and playfully saying, "You don't gotta look away; their sexiness is part of the whole performance. It's the whole point." Your giggle and their embarrassed reactions were amusing.

Seungmin and Minho, although harder to see from your vantage point, likely had similar reactions. The whole scene was a mix of awe and embarrassment, and you couldn't help but laugh heartily at their expense.

The performance concluded with everyone turning back, their faces flushed red. You continued to chuckle and pat them on the shoulders, thoroughly entertained by their reactions. Han was right there with you, and the two of you had a blast throughout the entire performance.

When Demi Lovato took the stage, the boys went wild, fanboying over their incredible talent. It was a joy to witness their enthusiasm.

Later in the evening, awards were announced, and you and the boys engaged in random conversations. Your ears perked up when they discussed K-pop awards, and you paid close attention. You knew that TXT was also nominated and set to perform, so there was an element of nervousness in the air.

Then came the moment you least expected—they announced Stray Kids as the winners! It was your group! The shock initially left you in a daze, and you stumbled slightly on your way to the stage, but Changbin caught you, saving you from a potentially embarrassing fall.

Walking onto the stage with your fellow members, your mind felt fuzzy. Was this real? Chan and Felix took a few words, expressing gratitude and excitement. You chipped in with your thanks here and there, the elation clear in your voice.

----- Backstage

The anticipation backstage was palpable as your performance was up next. You couldn't contain your excitement, even though you had initially pitched a mashup of songs that you believed would be iconic. You had suggested blending "Hall of Fame," "S-Class," and "Super Bowl" into a medley, envisioning a performance that would leave a lasting impression. The combination of "Hall of Fame's" grandeur, the seductive whispers of "Super Bowl," and the catchy vibes of "S-Class" seemed like a recipe for an unforgettable show. However, it seemed that your idea had been outvoted, and the group settled on a remix instead.

Nonetheless, you were determined to give it your all. Backstage, you and your fellow Stray Kids members exchanged reassuring glances, a silent reminder that you were a team and that you had prepared for this moment together.

As you stepped onto the stage, the spotlight illuminated you, and the nerves threatened to shake you. Your heart pounded, but you focused on the task at hand. You were dressed in a short top with gold buttons, paired with shorts, and an undershirt with a yellow print that matched Han's outfit. The stage lights were blinding, but you pushed through the nerves.

The music started, and you gave it your all. Singing loudly and pouring all your energy into your dance moves, you felt the adrenaline rush through your veins. The crowd's cheers and screams were deafening, and that only fueled your determination. The energy in the venue was incredible, and it was a testament to the love and support of your fans.

As the performance reached its climax, you executed the choreography flawlessly, ending with a dramatic head tilt before turning your back to the audience. You were out of breath but exhilarated. It was a performance to remember, and the applause and cheers from the audience were music to your ears.

You resisted the urge to turn around and gauge the audience's reactions. Instead, you noticed Seungmin doing the same. Smiles exchanged between the two of you, a shared moment of pride and satisfaction. You both walked off the stage with the rest of the boys, following the well-rehearsed exit routine.

Despite the exhaustion, you felt a sense of accomplishment and euphoria. The performance had been tiring, but it had been worth it. The rush of being on stage, sharing your music with the world, and feeling the love from your fans was an experience like no other. You couldn't help but love every moment of it. The car ride home was gonna be fun.

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

Taglist: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-lee08 @sungiesoonie @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @staygirl86 @chlodavids

If you wanna be added click here :)

[changbunnies]

Aurora (18+)

♡ Pairing: Prince!Felix x Duke's Daughter!Reader

♡ Genre: light angst, fluff, arranged marriage au, royalty au, historical au, one sided pining to eventual mutual pining, slow burn-ish ??, eventual smut

♡ Word Count: 21.8k

♡ Summary: Y/N, a duke’s daughter in the southern territories of Miroh, is promised to crown prince Felix in the north in the hopes that the dueling territories will reach peace. Yet, despite how much she initially loathes the idea of being married and away from her family, she can’t help but fall in love with the prince she was promised to.

♡ Warnings: outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, felix is nothing but sweet but it takes the reader time to trust him, attempted cheating (not from reader or felix, you'll see), 1 mention of having children, kind of possesive felix? but not too much, i think that's it but lmk if i missed something!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): felix calls reader "my love" (yes this needs a warning), so much kissing!! so many "i love you's!!" (a changbunnies smut staple), reader and felix are virgins, nipple play, oral (f + m receiving), handjob, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: you can also read the story on my ao3 where it is divded into chapters here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You knew well the day would come where you would be married off to a family looking to expand their power. You knew that you would have to leave behind all things you found familiar and comfortable to live in your husband’s estate. You knew that your responsibilities as a nobleman’s daughter would catch up with you sooner rather than later. And despite knowing all these things in your mind, your heart had not felt prepared for the reality of your fate in the slightest. 

Your night was spent in a grand ceremony of music and laughter as two families, one yours and the other your now husband’s, as well as commoners from all over the bustling town you would now call home, celebrated your new union. You were now Lee Y/N, wife to the northern king’s one and only son, Felix. And while there was high likelihood that Felix would not sit on the throne for decades, the choice of who would become his wife was still something that had to be decided with the utmost care in the event that an unexpected tragedy befell his father. 

Though you were not a princess, you were the eldest daughter of a grand duke. You were raised in elegance and novelty that most would never have the privilege of living in. You were also graceful, well mannered, and adored by your father’s people in the south, which was something the king valued when seeking out the ideal partner for his only heir. And with your union to the prince now solidified, the country was ever closer to a more unified and prosperous existence. 

The ceremony itself consisted of fake smiles you had long practiced from a young age; a mask of joy and grace to hide your inner tumultuous feelings. When the celebrations had come to a close, and the time came to bid your farewells to your family as they made the long journey back home to the south, you did your best to hold back the tears and see them off with a smile. You played the role you had been taught by your elders well, giving polite words of parting to the commoners who made it the ceremony and maintaining an elegant air around the royal family that you were now a part of. 

Felix let out a relieved sigh when the last of the guests departed, turning to you, his now wife, with a gentle smile afterwards. “Shall we retire for the night as well?” he asks as he holds out his arm, clearly offering it to be linked with yours. You accept the offer easily, deciding that if anyone saw you reject your husband on such an offer it would reflect badly on your family’s manners. The last thing you needed were rumors to circulate about your parents ‘not raising you right.’ 

“I hope you’re not too ill at ease,” he says as you exit the ballroom together, “meeting your betrothed on the same day as your ceremony is quite a shock.” He’s certainly not wrong about that; it was easily the greatest shock of your life. In fact, you spent much of your month-long journey to the northern lands in denial, utterly convinced it must be a falsehood, or some manner of prolonged bad dream you would surely wake from. 

Only on your arrival in the morning, when you had finally seen the royal castle with your own eyes and met your suitor and his family face to face, did your reality smack you squarely in the face. The truth of things could no longer be rejected; you were going to be married this evening whether you wished it so or not. You were left with no choice but to conform in that very moment, to accept your fate for what it is. 

“Yes, it took me no small measure of adjustment, but I am grateful that you and your family have spared no effort in accomodating me.” You offered a kind word- after all, it was no lie that his family were much kinder people than you had expected them to be. Once you reached the age of maturity, your family received countless marital requests from various suitors, many of whom were vile men beneath a mask of sincerity. You had watched your cousins marry into many such families, and found yourself dreading the day it would happen to you as well. 

While it was undoubtedly unfortunate that you were forced into a marriage, the fact that Felix and his family seemed to hold genuine kindness in their hearts made you quite lucky. However, your luck being better than most did not mean you were happy about any of this. Sure, the fact that you weren’t wed to a boorish man who felt the need to treat you like an object was a good thing, but that didn’t change that the freedom of choice was stripped away from you. 

You should feel relief that Felix seems to be a sweet person, or some sort of joy that your new family is seemingly considerate and caring, but you don’t. What you feel instead is.. Well, you aren’t quite sure what name to put to the feeling, though dread felt the closest. Yes, you felt a looming dread over knowing that this was your life now, and you were never, and will never, be given a choice for something different. 

“If there is anything at all I can do to help you in this transition, I ask that you do not hesitate to tell me.” Felix’s voice, while still much deeper than you had anticipated it to be, was soft and kind as he made the offer. You could feel a hint of guilt for not appreciating such a thing as much you knew you should- he’s obviously trying his hardest to be kind to you, and despite that you’re just.. Unhappy. There was no other way to put it. 

“I will, thank you,” you reply in your perfectly rehearsed well-mannered tone. You may hate the situation you’re in, but you won’t take it out on him. After all, he likely didn’t have a choice in this matter either, and he’s been nothing but sweet and accommodating to you thus far. As much as the rebellious part of your brain wishes to kick and scream and throw a tantrum, you don’t want to do anything that would hurt or reflect badly on your new husband. 

“This is my- well, our, room,” He says as you approach two large, ornate doors, decorated with a wood carving of the royal family’s emblem standing proudly in the center: two soldiers mirroring each other with swords raised skyward, and a beautiful, intricately drawn phoenix beholden in the center. “We can enter if you wish, but I do not intend to force you to lie with me when you are not yet comfortable being next to me.” 

“Truly? Is such a thing alright?” You nearly exclaim, unable to disguise the surprise in your voice at his statement. Felix smiles in the same sweet manner he has all night as he answers, “Of course! I know it’s.. Customary for newlyweds to lie together right away, but I have no desire to force you into an uncomfortable situation. And well.. I do hope that we’ll share a bed in the future, but I am more than willing to wait until you are ready.” 

You felt truly taken aback as you stared at him. Sad to say, you half expected his tune to change once the two of you were alone. You'd heard many awful tales of men who are sweet and doting in the eye of the public, but change the moment they are behind closed doors, their true natures and selfish desires exposing themselves once there is no one they have to impress or keep up appearances for. And also sad to say, it wouldn't have surprised you if the crown prince was one of those awful men; men in positions of power love to flaunt and make use of it, flashing their wealth and their status and forcing those beneath them into submission. You were lucky that in your father's lands in the south, you had enough status to prevent those men from harming you explicitly. 

But here you were, in a forgein land, married to a man who was second only to his father, the king, a man who held substantial power over you in every regard now that you were wed, and he was giving you the freedom of choice. And then there was the statement that followed- he wants to lie with you, would likely be pleased if you did so this very night, but is willing to wait until you want to of your own regard. It's possible he is simply a smooth talker, years of diplomatic lessons and high social status turning him into a charasmatic liar, an effortless charmer. 

Was it in his true character to treat women with such consideration, or were you an exception until he got you where he wanted you? Did he sincerely view you are more than an object to be had, or was he going to play the long game, waiting until the moment you lower your guard and become comfortable to strike? Regardless of the answer, you feel truly thankful in the moment. You've had a whirlwind of emotions today, and not needing to immediately lie with your new husband takes an immense weight of your weary shoulders. You're happy to have the space to decompress alone in your own private space offered to you. 

“The maid’s have prepared a room for you further down the hall. Shall I take you?” he asks, the sweet smile having not at all faded. You hesitate a moment before you nod, not wishing to offend him should you appear too eager or if this part of a game he wishes to play, using your vulnerability as a pawn. “Yes, please.” “Very well,” he replies as he leads you further past the room that you are supposed to share together. The walk down the hall is rather quick, ending just a few yards away from your starting point. “I hope you don’t mind, I wanted your room to be in proximity to mine in case you have need of me,” he clarifies as you approach the door to what will be your bedroom for the foreseeable future. 

“Truthfully, it’s more than I was expecting. I appreciate it,” you smile your first genuine one of the night, truly relieved to not have to share a bed with a relative stranger right away, and to have the space you need to process what your life will be like from this night onward. Felix unlinks your joined arms and opens the door for you to enter, his apparant kindness unfaltering. 

The moment you step inside your new room, you are in awe. Even for what is likely a small guest room, it’s still much larger than your bedroom back at your family’s modest estate. The furniture is well crafted and beautifully adorned in gentle blue and white shades. In the corner of the room, you see that your belongings from home have been neatly placed, with essentials on top and personal comforts at the bottom. This surprised you most of all; not only was he kind enough to prepare a separate room for you, but he had all your belongings brought here ahead of time, as if he already knew this would be your answer. 

Behind you, Felix stands in the doorway, having not followed you into the room. He wore an expression of anxious anticipation, waiting to hear what you thought of where you’d be sleeping. He was as patient as he possibly could be, hoping silently that whatever opinion you held would be positive. He truly wanted you to feel safe and comfortable here, so that one day you could grow to have a genuine connection with him. 

When you turned back towards him, your soft smile made the anxiety welling within his breast wash away in an instant. “It’s to your liking?” he asks, and you respond with a nod. “It’s lovely, thank you.” Truthfully, you felt another tinge of guilt for doubting his pure intentions just moments prior. The way relief instantly washed over his face was a clear indicator that he was truly trying his best to make you comfortable. 

“Ah, I’m relieved to hear that!” Felix holds his hand over his heart, as if it had just been racing in his chest; and to be fair, perhaps it was- he did seem genuinely considerate in all his actions, and he must’ve been nervous up to this point. “Before I go, should I call some maids to help you remove your gown? It looks rather intricate, so..” Felix’s observation wasn’t wrong; getting your wedding gown on early this afternoon required the help of your mother, sister, and many others, and you didn’t feel you’d be able to remove everything on your own. 

So, you gave your approval to receive the maid’s help, and Felix nods, “I’ll alert them quickly so you can get your rest soon. Knights will also be posted in front of your room at all times starting now, and maids will come to your room routinely, so please notify them if anything is needed urgently.” He was about to turn to leave but stops, hesitantly meeting your eyes one last time before he departs. “Uhm- good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” His smile was bashful, and you found his subtle, soft change in demeanor oddly endearing. While you were still very much uneasy about being in this place, and had your issues with being married, it’d be a lie to say that Felix’s earnest efforts to make you happy and comfortable weren’t helpful, and that maybe with him as your husband, you could be happy someday. 

-

You groan as you are wrestled from sleep by a quick succession of knocks on your door; not urgent in any way, but loud enough to rouse you out of the pleasant dream you were having. Groggily, you stand from your bed, rubbing your eyes as you step toward the door. You open it slowly, and come to see Felix standing before you with a tray of various foods in hand. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I brought you breakfast. May I come in?” 

You nod and step to the side to allow him entry, letting your assigned guards close the door behind him. “The maids said they couldn’t wake you, so I decided to give it a try at my first available moment,” he explains as he sets the tray down on your bed. “I’m still unsure of your preferences, so I got a little of everything. I hope there’s something here you enjoy.” 

It has been just a few weeks since you officially became a member of the royal family and Felix’s wife, but you still often found yourself being taken aback by just how thoughtful and earnest he was towards you. He seemed to have even the little things in mind when trying to accommodate you, and you often found yourself unsure on how to react to such kindness. In the end, you settle for a simple thank you as you climb back to your spot in bed to eat under the comfort of the blanket. 

“When you’re finished, I would like to take you on a tour of the castle if you’re not opposed. I believe getting familiar with your surroundings will aid in your adjustment,” he says, watching you carefully for any change in expression. It is true that since your arrival, you’ve spent most of your time holed up in your room, not coming out unless there was need for it. 

And though you were perfectly content to continue to do so, you could understand how it would become a problem, not just for Felix but for yourself as well. You can’t spend the rest of your days hiding away in your guest room, and you won’t adjust to your new life any easier if you don’t at least try to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. 

Besides all that, Felix has been incredibly sweet and patient thus far. You owe it to him to try, at the very least. His face lights up when you give your agreement, an earnest delight painting his face. You weren’t sure why he was so eager to offer you comfort, or why he always seemed so happy when you returned his smiles, but that pleasant quality of his was undeniably helpful in easing the ache in your heart. 

"I still have some things to take care of with my father before we begin, so take your time finishing your breakfast and getting ready. I'll be back later," he continues to smile as he stands, seemingly excited about what the afternoon will hold for you (and he is excited! There is so much to show you, and he hopes you love everything the castle has to offer.)

Your maids enter the room shortly after Felix departs, ready to help you with whatever you may need, and to begin tidying up once you've finished eating. You're not sure how long Felix will be, so you follow his advice to take your time, leisurely eating your breakfast and making small talk with the maids as you do. You were nervous to speak with them your first few days here, unsure of what sort of dynamic they had with the royal family, but you all warmed up to eachother rather quickly. They were kind, playful but still professional, and the ones around your age were especially excitable when it came to the prospect of gossip and dressing up. 

Even when you weren't interjecting into conversation, you enjoyed listening to them talk about romance, what they think of the working men in town, what dresses they plan to buy with their savings and what they'll do when they have a free night to spend out. You especially liked to listen to them talk about Felix; some of them had been here for years, and they knew much about him that you hadn't come to learn yet. It seemed that he'd always been sweet and kind, gentle and shy as a boy, but grew more confident with age and experience. Despite that, according to them, there were still many times where you could catch him becoming pink in the face and shyness bloomed over it the way it had when he was still small. 

It made you curious- what did Felix look like when he was shy? You were sure he must be beautiful; you're not blind after all, you can clearly see that the man you married is handsome beyond what words could describe. Being against an arranged marriage is completely seperate from recognizing that the man you were promised to looks like he was sculpted straight from God's own hands. But it takes more than beauty for you to have feelings for someone, and that's why you liked hearing the tales of his youth, moments that reflected that the Felix you met is the genuine him, no tricks and no falsehoods. And maybe one day, you would see him be shy, and seeing it would spark feelings in your gut that you hadn't felt since the time you were a child with your first crush. 

“Are you ready to begin the tour?” Felix smiles brightly as he holds out his arm for you the same way he had on the night of your marriage. You had just finished taming your hair and tying half of it behind you with a ribbon when he arrived back at your room, free of whatever his duties were and ready to dedicate the rest of his afternoon to you. When you first stepped out, Felix’s timid stare didn’t go unnoticed by the maids, who insisted on helping you despite being told you were capable of getting ready on your own. 

You chose a simple, muted yellow gown with white trim accents to wear from the clothes you brought with you from home. It was one of your favorite dresses to wear casually as it was light, airy, and easy to walk in. You had no plans to do anything extravagant, but your assigned maids insisted on you wearing at least some jewelry, so you let them place a pearl necklace on you with dainty earrings to match. 

And so, the maids secretly beamed with delight at Felix’s reaction to your appearance (though it wasn’t their added accessories that caught his attention in the first place; it was simply you.) “I’m ready, thank you,” you say as you accept his invitation to link your arms together. Felix shifts his gaze from you to the maids, giving them instructions to finish tidying your room while the two of you are out. They bow politely, getting straight to work on cleaning as you step out of your room, and you can hear their soft delighted giggles even as you are led down the hall. 

The tour started about as you expected, with Felix leading you from room to room and stating simple facts such as “this where my older sister and her husband sleep’ or ‘this is the hall where your family will stay when they next visit’ and so on. Typically, daughters move out of their family homes upon being wed, their entire purpose to give their husband’s family a successful lineage and ideal heir, but you suppose a special exception is made when you’re part of the royal family; you wonder how different your life would be if the expectation to leave your family behind wasn’t placed upon you from birth. 

He has a younger sister as well, one who has yet to be wed and who you met only briefly, but you wonder if she’ll be allowed to live in the castle as well when her time comes, if her husband’s family will have guest rooms just as yours will, and if she’ll have the luxury to stay in the place she’s familiar and comfortable for her entire life. You know his sisters aren’t much different from you; women often don’t have freedom of choice, and you especially doubt the princesses ever get a say in what comes next for them (even if the king and queen are caring people), but at least they still have their home, and their family right there with them. 

You were envious of that; you missed your home and your family so much. Would there ever be a day where you could see the place you grew up in again? How much older would your family be the next time you saw them? Your younger sister, who was still small and naive- how different would she be? How much taller, how much more mature? It saddened you to think about, and you had to consciously make an effort to not think about it any further, and focus instead on the things Felix was showing to you. 

He skips past the dining hall and ballroom since you’ve already become well acquainted with them from the wedding ceremony, and instead brings you to the royal library as your next stop. It was an understatement to say it was gorgeous, but you could find no words to do it justice. It was the largest library you’d ever seen, equipped with grand staircases and beautiful handcrafted spandrels carved into the arches. The bookshelves reached up the ceilings and covered every wall, apart from the back section where large ornate windows filtered in sunlight from the gardens outside (which Felix assured you that you’d be seeing soon.) 

“This is incredible, I’ve never seen such an impressive library!” you practically beam, unable to hide your excitement at the impressive collection of books. You’ve always been a fan of literature, spending countless hours losing yourself in fantasy worlds and star-crossed romances. “I could spend all my days here and still not read everything,” you muse with a smile as you wind your way through various bookshelves, taking note of every title that peaks your interest. 

“With such an extensive collection, there’s bound to be something that suits your tastes,” he says with a smile of his own as he follows you through the winding path of bookcases, “feel free to grab anything you’d like! You are allowed to take from the library as you please.” Oh, you intend on doing just that. You suppose you should start with just a few for now though; the library isn’t going anywhere after all, and neither are you. 

It takes some time, but you eventually decide on a handful books to bring back to your room first, mostly fantasy romance titles (because how can you resist the call of your favorite genre?) Felix, who had been watching fondly as you made your selections, quickly instructs a nearby maid to bring your selections back to your room before asking if you’re ready for the tour of the castle to resume. 

In much higher spirits than when you began, you happily link your arms with Felix again, eager to see what else the castle has to offer you. There’s not much more for you to see on the inside; you’re briefly shown the knight’s barracks and the maid’s quarters, as well as the informal living space his family prefers to relax together in when they have the time. (It’s still extremely elegant and beautiful for an “informal” space, but you digress- they’re royalty, after all.) 

He leads you to the gardens next, which until now you had only seen briefly from the windows, and wow, is it more stunning when actually in front of you than you ever would have believed. All the flowers and hedges are well maintained and vibrant in color, a cobblestone path laid before you and winding around the garden carefully, lattice fence work protecting the flowers in the back and maintaining the border. 

There’s ponds littered about, the cleanest and bluest you’d ever seen, the fish inside clearly visible even at a distance. In the center lies a beautiful marble fountain, with large, meticulously detailed sculptures of what you assume to be a goddess to adorn the surroundings. It’s all utterly breathtaking, beyond anything you’d ever seen at home in the south. As you reach the end of the cobblestone path, there lies an iron wrought gazebo with matching seating and a table beneath, right in the center. 

Felix unlinks your arms and steps up first, holding his hand out to you to accept as you proceed carefully up the few steps up to the gazebo. He pulls a chair out for you, smiling when you accept the seat and then takes his own seat directly across from you. There’s still a chill in the air, as spring has only just begun to set in the north, but the sunlight that filters through the iron keeps you sufficiently warm.

“Would you like some tea? You must be tired after all the walking we’ve done,” Felix asks after he’s gotten more comfortable in his seat, the iron cold at first but warming up quickly due to his own body heat. “That’d be lovely,” you answer sincerely, and he smiles again, looking around quickly for any nearby attendants he can call to assist the two of you. Within minutes you are provided with fresh tea, as well as a handful of biscuit style cookies, and you thank the maids for their quick work as warmly as you can.

“It’s been so long since I last walked the entirety of the castle grounds, I’d forgotten how tiring it is,” Felix sighs after he takes a sip of his tea, seemingly unphased by the high temperature of it. You on the other hand are snacking on the cookies you’d been provided as you wait for the tea to cool, having no desire to scorch your tongue and potentially embarrass yourself in front of your husband. 

“Yes, I can’t imagine doing it daily. The maids certainly have their work cut out for them,” you empathize, truly hoping they feel appreciated for all the work they’ve done for you thus far, and have done for what you imagine to be decades for some of them. You didn’t have much help on your family’s estate back home, but it was much less grand in comparison to the splendor of the castle you now live in. 

The moments that follow are serene; you listen to Felix talk about various things pertaining to the castle as you sip your tea, including stories of how he used to get lost as a child and always needed someone's help to get back to where he needed to be. You laughed once, when he told you about a time he got stuck in a utility closet and cried until he was discovered by a maid, who had to spend several minutes calming him down before carrying him back to his room. 

It was a cute story, and you couldn’t help but giggle from how he dramatically explained the darkness that encompassed him and how terrified 7 year old Felix was at that moment. You were worried for a moment after that it’d seem like you were laughing at him and not with him, but the way he smiled at you after he heard your laugh told you he was perfectly happy with your reaction. 

It was the first time he heard you laugh since you arrived- genuinely laugh, and he liked it. It made him feel warm, and gave him hope that you were finally starting to feel comfortable around him. He’d never hurt you, and he hoped that as you grew closer to him, you could genuinely love him one day. That’s all he wants really; to love the person he’s married to, and be loved in return. 

He’s seen it happen before; his parents, whose marriage was decided long before he was born but was the truest form of love he’d ever seen, and with his older sister, who was against her marriage at first but came to be truly in love with the man she was promised to. He wanted that to, to love and be loved with all his heart, to have something special and all his own with the woman he was promised to. And he'd work hard, do everything he could to show you that he was someone worthy to give your heart to. 

You stayed in the gardens for some time, simply talking and enjoying the scenery until the sun began to shift behind the trees. The shade brought a deeper chill with it, a slight shiver crawling over your skin each time the wind blew. “Let’s go back inside, there’s still something I want to show you,” Felix suggests upon seeing the way your body tensed from the chill creeping over you. You easily accept the offer, letting him lead you out of the gardens and back to the castle.

Warmth immediately spreads through you when you’re back inside the castle’s walls, body releasing its cold tension as you let Felix guide you to where he wants to go next, your arm linked in his as is coming to be your norm. You come to a now familiar hall- the one with your bedrooms, and Felix stops in front of the doors to his room, the one you will one day share in the future. “Your room..?” you ask, looking at him inquisitively. 

“I’m not asking you to move in yet, just to see it, if that’s okay with you,” he explains his intentions, ensuring that he means you no harm by inviting you into the private space. Felix has given you no reason to mistrust him at all, and while there is some slight hesitancy due to your own fears, you agree easier than you expected yourself to. He’s trustworthy, you think; he’s a gentleman through and through, and he’s shown you more than once how considerate and respectful he is, so.. Why not? 

The royal knights guarding his room open the doors for you at Felix’s signal, and the two of you step inside together, letting the guards close the door behind you to offer you privacy (not that you necessarily need it at the moment.) His room is similar to yours, with much of the same features, but much larger in scale and with items you imagine are specific to Felix’s own tastes. His furniture holds the same blue and white tones as yours, but with the additions of a lovely yellow, reminiscent of the sun shining in an almost clear sky. 

He has a fireplace, only slightly larger than the one in your room, and you can tell even from a distance that his attached bath is very grand in both appearance and size. The biggest difference from your own room however has to be the piano sitting in the corner of his room, large and spectacular in its handcrafted design. You cautiously step closer to it, carefully running your hand over the sleekly painted black wood, fingertips tracing over the gold leaf accents. 

“This is beautiful,” you say, turning back to look at him when you’re done admiring the beauty of what you can only assume is his personal piano, “do you play?” “I learned as a boy,” he answers with a beaming smile full of pride as he takes a seat in front of the keys, “I haven’t had much time to play recently, but it’s one of my favorite things to do. I always feel the happiest when I’m playing.”

He motions for you to take a seat on the nearby chaise, so you do, sitting comfortably against the soft cushion. “Would you like to hear a song?” he asks, a bit nervous but eager to show you what he can do after years of diligent practice. “I’d love that,” you reply, his infectious joy causing you to smile as well. You watch as he turns his attention to the keys in front of him, his face changing as he closes his eyes, the smile you had become accustomed to seeing fading as he prepared to focus. 

The song starts soft and slow, and while you didn’t recognize the melody, you found it entrancing and indescribably beautiful and serene. You watched and listened in awe as he continued, his eyes still closed and body swaying along with the melody he was playing. His ability to play without looking at the keys or sheet music amazed you, and attested to the fact that this is indeed something he loves to do. 

You clapped when he finished the song, and his expression immediately returned to the vibrant smile he often held. “That was beautiful Felix! You’re really talented,” you praise him earnestly, truly moved by his talent. “Oh, no, anyone who has played as long as I have can do that,” he insists despite the light blush crawling on his features from your compliment. 

“You’re being modest,” you say, hoping he recognizes that you truly mean it, and aren’t just saying so to be kind or polite. You’ve seen a fair amount of people play the piano in your time attending balls and banquets, but saw no one as talented and clearly passionate as Prince Felix. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to being so openly complimented, or the fact that he had never played in front of anyone but his family, but he found that the praise affected him in a way he couldn’t have anticipated. 

No, it was because it was you specifically complimenting him that made his face flush and heart beat just the tiniest bit faster. Was it strange to hope to hear you compliment him more in the future? Maybe one day you’d compliment his appearance; tell him he was handsome, or beautiful, or cute even. He’d be happy with any of them, as long as they were from you. He'll tell you too- how beautiful you are when you smile, your excitement over your books cute, your very presence endearing. He knows it's too soon to call his feelings love, because how do you fall in love with a stranger in only a few weeks time? But he's certain that one day, maybe not too far off from today, it will be love, and the warmth and joy he feels whenever you look at him will expand tenfold, beyond anything he's ever experienced before now. 

Since the first time you’d entered Felix’s room and he’d played the piano for you, it had become routine for you to spend most of your days there with him, listening to him calmly play melodies while you silently read your books. It was nice listening to him play while you were reading; it felt like it added a special ambience, and helped you get even further lost in the tales written on the page. 

Sometimes you’d even notice him watching you read from your peripheral, smiling to himself for just a moment before he turned his attention back to the keys. When his fingers grew tired, you’d start to read aloud, oftentimes at his own request. Felix explained that he liked listening to you read, and you imagined that the feeling was similar to how you felt listening to him play piano.

Relaxing, comfortable, serene; that’s how the two of you felt listening to the other. Honestly, you were embarrassed to do so at first; after all, the book you were reading at the time had to do with with a woman in a magical fantasy land falling in love with an elf, and you would’ve been extremely embarrassed if he laughed at the concept or shamed you for your taste in literature. 

However, you found that he listened to you intently, like the tale you were reading from the pages was of the utmost importance for him to hear. He’d ask follow up questions when you were further in the book than he last heard, often asking what happened next and if the characters had overcome whatever trial they had been facing yet.  

Felix remembered all the details of what you read to him- the setting, the character’s names, what their thoughts and feelings were at the point you’d read them to him. It impressed you, as well made you feel warm and a little fuzzy. It showed how much he genuinely cared, that he listened to you and cared about the things you care about, that he wanted to know what you like beyond a superficial level. 

Whenever night came however, you retreated back to your own room, promising you’d return the next day. Maybe it was silly to not officially move into the bedroom you were meant to share when you had begun to spend most of your days there, but you simply weren’t ready to yet. You’d grown to trust Felix quite a bit, but sleeping next to him still seemed a step too far out of your comfort zone. 

You also worried it’d send him the wrong message- you didn’t want him to think anything would come of you sharing a bed just yet. You just found his presence comforting, and that was all. You knew, since the very day you first came here, that he hoped the two of you would share his room when you were ready, but you didn’t want to unintentionally give him something he thought was more than it was supposed to be. 

It seemed so.. Intimate, much more than you had ever been with someone. You liked him, and you trusted him, that much was true- but enough to share a bed? It was nerve-wracking to think about, and while you knew it would happen someday, there was no need to rush it along; especially not when he was giving you the freedom and space to tackle your marriage on your own terms. 

But on nights like tonight, when your heart was heavy and tears pricked the corner of your eyes, you wondered if you should’ve just moved in with Felix already. It was only a matter of time before the warm weather brought rain with it, and alongside the downpour came thunderstorms. You weren’t sure what time of night it was when the crash of thunder woke you from your sleep, but as the grogginess faded and the sound sat with you, your heart ached terribly. 

You didn’t hate thunderstorms- in fact, you didn’t mind them at all, usually finding them quite pleasant to watch and listen to. It was your sister that hated them, who’d crawl into your bed every time one struck, trembling hands rousing you from your deep slumber and clinging to you the moment you awoke and offered her a place next to you. And each time a thunderstorm rolled through, you couldn't help but think about her, sadness encroaching over you without any means to stop it. 

What was the weather like back home, you wondered? Had spring's rain been gentle to her so far or were the storms as prevalant there as they were here? Would your sister suffer through it alone now that you weren’t there to comfort her? Your parents were kind, but you weren’t entirely sure they’d allow her to crawl into bed with them, or to hold her close as she cried the way you always had. 

How much of the remainder of her childhood would you come to miss? In just a few years time, she’ll be a woman the same as you, married into a new family and away from the last of her comforts. You don’t hate where you are now, nor do you hate Felix or the family you now call your own, but you miss the people you grew up with, and your little sister most of all. 

You miss holding her hand, hugging her when she’s scared, wiping away her tears when she’s sad or frightened. You miss guiding her through the lessons you once took, helping her to understand and offering the help you didn’t have then due to being the oldest. You miss giggling together when sharing stories, how cute she looked when happily accepting and showcasing your hand-me-down dresses that were now hers. 

Before you knew it, tears rolled down your cheeks, the ache in your chest unable to be ignored or pushed aside any longer. It was as if all the sadness you’d been harboring surfaced all at once, and the moment one tear fell, another followed, and another, until you were openly sobbing, unable to control or stop it from happening. 

You thought again of Felix, who was just a short trip down the hall from you. Would it be alright to go see him? You promised you’d go to him if you needed something, and well.. You could use some comfort, if you were being honest with yourself. If you lit some candles and tried to read to distract your mind, all you’d effectively do is blur the pages and stain them with your tears, unable to focus on the words in front of you as your mind swirled and processed all your emotions. 

Felix, while still relatively new to you and finding his place in your life, is your family now. Who else can you approach with your melancholy if not him? He’s sweet- he’ll comfort you, he’ll listen to you, he’ll be patient and considerate. In the nearly 2 months since you’d first arrived, he’s always shown you just how gentle of a person he is. And he always seemed genuine when expressing his desire to share his life with you, and be someone you could trust and rely on. 

You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, wiping the tears from your face as you rise from your bed. Your night guards seem surprised when the doors to your room open and you emerge from them, but ultimately they say nothing, letting you walk down the hall without interruption and closing your doors for you. 

Felix’s guards, who recognize you even in the dim light of the candles on the walls as his wife, acknowledge you with a brief, professional nod when you stop in front of the doors. You hesitate there for a moment, wondering if this is really okay or if you should abandon this idea and turn back to your room, but his guards, who mistake your hesitance as you waiting for them to open the doors, do so as quietly as they can, motioning for you to go ahead and step inside the room. 

Well, there’s no going back now that they’ve opened the doors for you, so you quietly step inside, thanking them softly and letting them pull the large doors shut behind you. The room is dark, the light that would normally pour in from the moon being obscured by the dark rain clouds that hang in the sky. His candles are all responsibly blown out, but your eyes are adjusted to the darkness enough to find your way to his bed regardless. 

You swallow, hand trembling as you reach out to him, shaking him gently and mirroring the actions your sister used to take when she woke you up at night. He groans sleepily, voice deep and gravely as he stirs awake, eyes slowly drawing open, wearily looking for the source of what woke him. Felix sees you standing above him, but it takes his sleep-addled brain a moment to process the sight, half wondering if his weary eyes are playing a trick on him. 

But no, it really is you, looking at him with sad eyes and a quivering bottom lip, and he can feel the tremble in your hand that rests on his shoulder now that he’s fully conscious. He sits up quickly, concern painting his face as he gives you his undivided attention. “Y/N, what’s the matter? Has something happened?” Your voice wavers as you try to tell him, I’m sad, I’m lonely, I miss everyone from home, but it doesn’t fully come out, the words dying in your throat as tears well in your eyes again. 

He opens his arms to you and you crumble into them, burying your head in his chest as you allow yourself to cry. He sympathetically whispers your name, careful as he wraps his arms around you in a hug, conscious of where he allows his hands to rest. He doesn’t know what's wrong, what has brought you to such tears, but he’s glad you came to him with them. It would’ve saddened Felix to later learn that you suffered in your room alone when he would’ve gladly done whatever he could for you. 

And then he hears it- the crack of thunder, lightning illuminating the room for a brief moment before you’re sheathed again in darkness. Was that the problem? Were you frightened? You weren’t of course, but he didn’t know that, and he comforted you through your sobbing as if you were. “It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here with you,” he told you, his voice a deep whisper, holding you just a bit together whenever lightning struck, fully believing the problem was that you were afraid. 

Despite the misconception, you were comforted all the same. This was exactly what you were hoping for, what you needed to hear. The storm eventually recedes, as does your sobbing, the room becoming ever so slightly more illuminated as the rain clouds pass onward. He can see your face more clearly now when you look at him again, can see how wet and shiny your cheeks have become from fallen tears, but you also appear calmer, your lip trembling much less and breaths less shaky. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks softly, carefully, and it is now you become hyper aware of the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, of your head resting against his chest, of the sound of his heartbeat in your ears. You relax your fingers, which you realize were clutching his sleep shirt quite hard, the fabric having become harshly wrinkled from your grasp. He loosens his arms to let you lift yourself away from him, watching silently as you wipe your face clean. 

You hesitate to meet his gaze- not because you feel embarrassed over your outpouring of your emotions, but conscious of how close you just were, and how natural it felt to have his arms around you. Maybe the fact that it felt so right is a testament of how close you’ve grown in the time you've been here, and how comfortable he makes you feel. “I’m sorry for waking you,” you mutter quietly now that you’ve found your voice again; you know his duties leave him tired, so there’s a tinge of guilt you feel for interrupting his rest. 

“Don’t say that, I’m glad you woke me,” he assures you, and he’d reach out and hug you tight again if he knew he could. You believe him- you know how earnest and sincere Felix is, and that he cares about you; maybe not in the way a husband cares about his wife, but cares nonetheless. You should be honest too, clarify why you were really crying so he doesn’t grow to think you’re genuinely afraid of thunderstorms. 

“I, uh- I’m not afraid of storms, that’s not why I was crying. Well, it was, but not because I was frightened,” you explain, and Felix looks a bit puzzled, but nods anyways, listening carefully to what you tell him. You tell him everything- how your sister was afraid of them, how you spent many dark nights easing her fears, and how your tears were born from how much you miss her, and your family as a whole. 

His heart breaks for you, truly, it does. He assumed you missed your family, he took notice of how close you were to them on the night of your ceremony, but there was no way he could’ve known how deep your pain was. And really, he can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your situation. What if it was him who had to separate from his parents and siblings to live somewhere new? Would he be able to handle it with as much acceptance and grace as you have? 

You never complained about anything, even when you were saddened. You treated everyone around you kindly, never spoke ill of anyone or about your circumstances, and that’s when he realizes you have much more inner strength than he’d known. There’s a small prick of guilt he feels for taking you away from your family, but even if it wasn’t him that you married, it still would’ve happened to you someday.

He wishes he knew what he could say or do to comfort you the best; there was nothing that could completely take the ache away, of that he was sure, but if he could make it better somehow then he’d do whatever he could. You can see the gears turning in his brain, can see him struggle with finding the words to say, unsure if what he’d done for you thus far was good enough. 

And there’s a new dilemma brewing in your mind- what do you do now that you’re calm? Do you just.. leave? Go back to your solitude and spend the rest of the night alone? If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t entirely want to go back to your room. Maybe it was time for you to finally move in with Felix, and share the room, share the bed, as you were meant to. It’s a strange feeling you don’t entirely recognize and know what to do with; you just know that you want to stay here, with him, and feel his arms around you again. 

Maybe it’s simply because he’s all you have here; which isn’t entirely true, but it is how you feel. Do you have a family here? Yes, the royal family is your family now too. Do you have friends here? Yes, you’ve grown quite close to your maids and other staff you interact with. But are you comfortable enough to be vulnerable in front of them, or to share your feelings of loneliness and homesickness? No, and in that regard, Felix is all you have. 

Felix is your companion in this lonely place, the person who makes your days brighter and bearable through the melancholy, the one who ebbs away your sadness and replaces it with warmth. And you spend all your days with him, next to him, talking to him, sharing everything, including silence. Would it be so bad to allow yourself this comfort? To finally take a step forward and move into the room you were meant to share? 

There’s a part of you that’s scared to take that step, afraid to confront what your desire to be close to him means, unsure how to unravel and make sense of the complexities of your thoughts. But there is an undeniable truth- Felix is your husband, and that would likely never change. So even if you don’t love him, wasn’t it okay to be close to him regardless? He makes you smile, he makes you laugh with his stories and jokes, he plays the piano for you and listens to you so intently, he makes you feel warm and fuzzy; and he told you he wants you to be here.

Maybe he doesn’t love you yet, but he’s expressed that he wants to, that he hopes the two of you will look at each other fondly and live happily. And maybe you don’t love him yet, but that doesn’t mean that the day you do is far off. You look at him, take in the compassion and concern he holds for you, allow the feeling of warmth to seep into your pores; you may not be in love with him, but you do still have love for him. Isn’t that enough? 

“Felix, if it’s alright.. Can I-,” you pause a moment, shy apprehension prickling your skin, but you collect yourself enough to continue, “I want to stay. Here, with you.” You can see even in the low light how his eyes widen, though it’s hard to decipher whether or not his surprise is pleasant, but you hope it is given how he’s expressed his hopes for the future. “A-Are you sure?” he asks, not at all against the idea, just surprised by your admission.

“I don’t want to be alone again, at least not tonight,” you explain, hoping he understands, “And I don’t have to move in completely if you’re not ready for me to, but.. I spend all my days here with you anyways, so.. I want to, if that’s okay.” Felix’s heart is racing, his face growing pinker by the second, and he feels lucky you’re making this confession in the darkness, where you can’t easily tell how obvious his blush is. 

“Of course you can stay,” he says, shifting more to the side to allow you the space you need to get comfortable under his thick blanket. He’s stiff when he first lies down next to you, unsure of whether or not it was okay to touch you, whether or not you’d even like it if something as simple as his arm being pressed against yours was alright with you. He already knew he was undeniably attracted to you, but he’d never do something if you were uncomfortable, or touch you without explicit permission, even if the touch was meant to be comforting as opposed to romantic.

But you reach out to him first, softly ask him to hug you again, and he’s more than happy to oblige your request. You can hear the rapid beat of his heart as you move in close, and you wonder if he’s nervous; you are too, to be fair. You’ve never lied this close to a man before, or let one hold you in his arms the way you let Felix, never shared a bed with anyone but family. But you want this, and despite the nerves that come with doing something so new to you, you’re happy, comfortable. 

Felix’s heart begins to slow the longer you lie together, as does yours, and the exhaustion that comes with crying, as well as being woken in the middle of the night, takes hold over you. You fall asleep first, though Felix is not far behind you, the soft sound of your even breaths akin to a lullaby in his fatigued state. You’re warm, comfortable, safe; you may not have all the things that were once familiar to you, but you have Felix, a person who radiates kindness and compassion, a person who despite everything, makes you happy. 

There’s part of you that wonders if sharing a room with Felix was a decision made too hastily; not because he did anything wrong, but because it came with unforeseen challenges. What was the challenge? Dressing, undressing, bathing to name a few. He was always respectful, kept his back turned to you whilst you were changing or kept himself away from the attached bath if you were in it, and you likewise never peeked towards him when the opposite occurred. 

You certainly didn’t regret your decision- after all, you spent all your days with Felix, so it only made sense to spend your nights with him too now that you felt comfortable enough. But there was a certain timidness that came with undressing in the presence of a man, even if said man wasn’t looking and had his gaze fixed to the wall until you were finished. You wondered though, wouldn’t there come a day where he was allowed to look? 

The thought of Felix someday looking at your exposed, bare skin made an unfamiliar feeling well in your gut- one that was entirely foreign to you, but not at all unpleasant. Butterflies, perhaps? You’d read about the sensation in your novels, the characters often expressing how seeing the one they love made their stomach react in ways strange and new. And as explained in the countless romances you read, your heart would race when he held your gaze after you emerged from the bath, your face would flush whenever his touch lingered for longer than what you would consider typical of a friendly relationship. 

It was no exaggeration to say that sharing a room with Felix brought you even closer than before, and once you got past your initial shyness, the weeks that followed were some of the most pleasant you’d had. You settled into a nice routine, sharing breakfast before he had to depart to attend to his royal duties, while you spent the rest of your morning and early afternoon perusing the library shelves for your next read or sitting out in the gardens, sometimes reading in the warm light of the sun, sometimes simply enjoying the scenery around you. 

You’d reunite at dinner time, sometimes sharing that time with family in the dining hall and other times eating in the privacy and comfort of your room. Felix would often insist that you bathe first, ever a gentleman to you, but on days he seemed particularly worn out and exhausted you would do your best to convince him he needed one more than you, encouraged him to relax and let the hot water soothe away any aches. 

No matter the order of the bath, your nights would end the same; you’d spend the last few hours of your day listening to Felix play the piano as you read, oftentimes reading your literature aloud once he grew tired and joined you where you sat, whether that be the chaise facing the piano, the sofa across from the fireplace, or simply the bed. On the nights he was extra tired, his eyes would grow heavy and close as you read to him, and when you gently told him he was falling asleep, he’d mumble that he was still listening, urging you to continue. 

It was endearing, and there was a certain joy you felt in lulling him to sleep with your softly spoken words, knowing that even as the comfort seeped into his bones and urged him to rest, all he wanted was to listen to you. You liked to think it even helped him, hoping that you brought him as much solace as he brought you, hoping that you alleviated and dispelled any troubles simply by being there for him the way he was for you. 

Tonight was another such day; the changing of the season brought with it longer, warmer days, and often the sun wouldn’t begin to sink until you were already well into your nightly routine. The moon had just begun to emerge when Felix settled down on the sofa next to you, making sure he lit the candles before he sat as darkness began to settle in. It was a bit of a challenge at times to read in the dim, wavering light of the candles, but you’d grown used to it in your time as a novel enjoyer, and you welcomed the cozy atmosphere the candlelight brought. 

He listened to you intently at first, but the more you spoke the words from the pages, with your steady, soft and even pace, the more sleep called to him, and it became a struggle for his eyes to remain open. His head rested against the back of the sofa, the cushion acting as a pillow for his weary body. Your softly spoken words, along with the low light the candles brought to the room, were enough to call him to sleep much faster than he’d otherwise expect.

You pause when you notice his eyes have completely closed, not sure if he’s still listening with his eyes shut, or is indeed asleep as you suspect. But when he makes no reaction to your pause, you are certain sleep has taken him, and you smile as you quietly close your book. You set it down on the nearby table, wondering if you should try and wake him, request him to move to the bed, or if it’d be better to bring over a blanket and let him be. 

You look at him, quietly taking in the sight of his sleeping form. Felix is beautiful, even whilst sleeping, and you wonder if he knows that. His eyelashes are long, his freckles a unique and expansive constellation, his parted lips and honeyed skin almost entracing to look at, begging to be admired by all who look. And admire him you did, in quiet moments like this, where everything was serene, in the space belonging only to the two of you, a space where you are the only ones who exist. 

Carefully, you reach out to him, gently tapping on his shoulder until he stirs. “Felix,” you call softly, and he barely opens his eyes, letting out a small, groggy ‘hmm?’ in response. “You fell asleep,” you tell him quietly, voice almost a whisper, “let’s go to bed.” He hums his agreement, which due to his deep, sleepy voice sounds more like a grumble. You rise from the sofa first, offering a hand for stability if he needs it. 

He falls to the bed with a grunt, barely managing to pull the blankets up over his shoulders, and you can’t help but giggle at the display. You work your way around the room before you join him, blowing out the candles until the room’s only illumination comes from the moonlight peaking through the window curtains. You’re not quite as tired as Felix, but you settle into bed regardless, knowing that once you’re under the blankets and comfortably next to him, sleep won’t be all that far behind. 

Felix has been working extra hard lately, preparing for an upcoming ball to celebrate the summer solstice. Apparently they hold it annually, as well as one for the winter solstice, but you had arrived at winter’s end and after that celebration had already concluded. It keeps the spirits of the commoners high, gives them an event to look forward to, and gives them a chance to mingle with those from other, father towns who come in to join the celebration of the season. 

That’s not its only purpose however; it also gives the royal family a chance to meet with other officials and people of high standing beyond that of just letters, and ensure that they continue to have a prosperous, mutually beneficial relationship. Dukes, barons, soldiers who have returned from war-torn fields- it’s important for the king, and by extension Felix, to know where they stand with all of them. 

Of course, you were no stranger to lessons in diplomacy, but you’re sure there is much more Felix has to keep in mind than simply being diplomatic. There’s a lot that goes into the politics of the kingdom, and you can’t imagine the weight that falls on his shoulders, knowing that one day he’ll inherit the responsibility of deciding the future of everyone within his territory. It’s also possible that someday, your knowledge from growing up in the south will be a vital asset to him, and that he’ll seek your input on how to govern the farthest reaches of the kingdom.

You sigh a little, moving in closer to Felix. It’s best not to stress yourself out with thoughts about governing the kingdom, or about the upcoming ball; it’ll be your first ball as a married couple in the public eye, and there’s a separate set of nerves that come along with that. You wonder how much like a couple you should act; should you stay glued to his side, act lovey-dovey for the duration of the night, or would that be unseemly for royalty to do? 

It’s possible there’s no need for you to appear in love- after all, it’s no secret that arranged marriages can be loveless. But still, you think it’d be beneficial for the people to see you genuinely care for Felix- it could set a positive example, and show that the north and south have no need to fight against each other. You think if you just act natural, and don’t put too much thought and effort into “proving” you love Felix, then the people will see your honest feelings come through.  And besides, you told yourself you wouldn't worry about such things now that you were in bed, so your only priority should be going to sleep. 

Felix’s arm rests around your waist, which is normal for you now. After the first night, when he hugged you until you fell asleep, it felt nice to wake up with his arm still there, holding you close. He apologized the next morning when you woke up, worried that he may have made you uncomfortable, though he didn’t have control of where his arm lied once he’d fallen deeply into sleep. You assured him though that it was perfectly fine- in fact, it was comfortable, and you enjoyed the closeness after feeling so lonely. 

It became a natural part of how you slept, his arm always around you, sometimes loosely, and other times strongly keeping you close. Now was one such time you were held loosely, his arm limp with sleep but you didn’t mind; it gives you the ability to easily adjust your position turning so that his hand was against your back and your head could rest close to his chest. Your movement rouses him slightly, and he instinctively holds you tighter.

You whisper an apology for unintentionally waking him with your movement, not entirely sure that he’s even alert enough to truly hear you, but you say it regardless. You guess he does hear you, because he mumbles a response, though it’s not entirely decipherable. “..ove you.” “Hmm?” you hum in question, glancing up to look at him, but it’s no use- he’s back to sleep within seconds, as if he was never awoken at all. Oh well, it likely wasn’t anything important, probably just dreamy ramblings of a tired mind, or an acceptance of your apology. Maybe tomorrow you can ask him if he dreamt anything pleasant, or if you appeared to him in your dreams the same way he had begun to in yours. 

You were well into the solstice ball, sighing as you stood off to the side of all the dancing, feeling exhausted from everything you were experiencing. You thought your wedding was tiring, but this was somehow even worse; when you got married to Felix, only locals to the town were welcome inside the castle to witness it and celebrate, otherwise chaos could ensue. But with the solstice ball, any and everyone was welcome, and with that came a myriad of people for you to meet and communicate with. 

Most who attended were eager to see the prince’s wife, curious about what sort of woman he’d married, and you couldn’t help but be anxious about what opinion they’d hold of you after seeing you in the flesh. Honestly, you wanted to make a good impression; you’d be saddened if you were unliked by those who would one day be your people alongside Felix. Your father was someone who governed with compassion, and the royal family were much the same, and you hoped they could see you held the same values. 

Still, it was tiring to portray your best self for hours without end, and you took the opportunity for a break at the first moment you could. You stayed at Felix’s side for the first hour of the evening before going your separate ways, him mingling with various men of high status while you traveled the ballroom floor, introducing yourself to as many people as you could. There were still many people for you to meet and talk with, but hopefully they’d understand your need to take a moment for yourself. 

You sipped on some water, your throat thankful for the soothing liquid, having become quite parched from all the talking you’d done. You also looked yourself over briefly in one of the ballroom’s mirrors, making sure everything about your appearance was still neatly in place; you had went out to town with Felix to get a new dress, and it arrived mere days before the ball, just in time. 

You expressed that you were worried about your appearance, the dresses you’d brought from home being expensive and beautiful, sure, but still falling short when compared to the lavish gowns his sisters and mother wore. Felix, who didn’t entirely realize he was speaking his thoughts aloud, said you’d look beautiful in anything, and both of your faces went red, before he coughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject, saying that they could simply buy you a new dress if you’d needed it. 

You did also consider borrowing a gown from his older sister, but he insisted that was nonsense when they were more than capable of buying something specifically for you, and so you’d agreed to go out to town with him, going to a seamstress well-respected and trusted by the royal family. It was your first outing since your arrival, not because anything necessarily stopped you from leaving if you wanted to, but simply because it required the coordination and cooperation of the royal guard accompanying you, and really, you had no need to leave until then. 

After the seamstress’ daughter took your measurements, and you answered various questions pertaining to color and style, as well as looking over and feeling various samples of fabric, you were free to leave, with the promise that once your dress was ready, her daughter would bring it to the castle, along with an alteration kit if any adjustments were needed. Before returning to the castle, Felix brought you to a jeweler, and you also passed a bookstore, where you couldn’t help but notice your favorite novel was on display.

Felix asked about it when you noticed your subtle pause to look, asked if you wanted to go inside and look around, or buy the copy of your favorite novel that was on display, but you told him there was no need. After all, you still had your very well-loved copy at home (which, while beginning to fall apart, was still perfectly readable and sentimental to you), and countless books in the library you still had interest in before feeling the need to purchase any new ones. 

All that to say, your night on the town was well spent, and you were thankful how well your gown and jewelry came together, and you truly felt good about your appearance tonight. Your maids also dutifully perfected your hair and makeup, and even hours into the night, you found no imperfection with either. Felix also went red in the face when he first saw your completed look, much to the delight of your maids, who had to suppress their gleeful giggles; it seemed they loved when Felix looked at you with awe. 

You allow an attending maid to take your water from your hands when you are finished with it, thanking them with sincere politeness. You give yourself another moment to collect yourself before returning to the main ballroom floor, careful not to bump into those dancing as you make your way through the crowd of people. You hoped to locate Felix, and see whether or not he’s still caught up in whatever political talk he was having when you last brushed past him. 

Instead, you hear a familiar voice questioningly call your name, and you pause, stopping to look around for the source. It couldn’t be.. could it? “Christopher!” you gasp, met with the sight of a boy, now man, you hadn't seen in nearly 3 years, “What are you doing here?” “Didn’t you know? My station is just a few towns over,” he explains with a smile. Honestly, you were completely shocked. Your fathers were close friends, and though Chris was a few years older than you, you’d spent a lot of time together due to the close relationship of your fathers, both personal and professional. 

While your father is a duke, Chris’ was a very well-respected knight, who earned the title of baron due to his unwavering loyalty and dedication to serving your father, having sworn his fealty to him many years ago, before you were even born. Chris had similar ambitions as his father, and dedicated himself to training from a young age, always expressing that one day he’d serve the royal family. Coincidentally, he was also your first, and only, childhood crush. 

And truly, you didn’t know that he lived in a relatively short proximity to the town you now called home. Upon meeting the requirements to join the royal guard, he was sent north to receive further orders, and you’d lost contact with him not long afterwards, with the only news you’d learned being that he married a year after moving from the town you both grew up in- an arranged marriage, same as you. 

His wife, as far as you were aware, was a local girl whose family offered a significant dowry to be married to such a well-respected and honorable family. You wondered more than once if he was happy, and if your father ever considered Chris as a potential husband to you, but in recent times you stopped lingering on such thoughts completely. Your situation was set in stone, and you didn’t bother entertaining thoughts on what-if’s and could-be’s now that you too were married. 

“I didn’t! But it’s nice to see you again, I didn’t expect to see a familiar face,” you tell him sincerely; disregarding the childhood feelings you once held for him, it truly is nice to see a friend from home again. “I was surprised when I heard you were the one Prince Felix married, and so I had to take this chance to see you again, and see the truth of it for myself.” You giggle a little, imagine what Chris must’ve looked like when he learned his childhood friend had married someone so important. 

“I was surprised too, believe me. I never anticipated marrying into the royal family,” you say, smiling as you speak. Though there were hardships that came with being relocated and away from family, now that you were growing accustomed to your life here, you actually found it pleasant. And you really enjoyed Felix’s presence, and while you were initially upset about your marriage, you had truly begun to view it as a good thing in the recent weeks. 

“Did your wife come too? It’d be lovely to meet her,” you ask as a follow up, hoping she was somewhere nearby. “Mm, she’s here somewhere,” he replies, much more dismissive about the topic than you’d expect him to be. It makes you want to ask if his relationship with her is bad, but perhaps that’s not appropriate to ask given the circumstances. “Would you like to dance?” he asks, quickly shifting focus, and you hesitate, a slight frown forming on your face. 

Normally, you wouldn’t be opposed to sharing a dance with a friend, but the circumstances surrounding your lives have changed substantially since you were last in contact. You’re both married, and even if it meant nothing beyond friendship for either of you, there was an image that needed to be upheld at all times, especially in the eyes of the public. And you couldn’t help but think about what his wife, or Felix, would think if they saw you dancing with each other. 

Felix knew Chris by name alone from times you talked about home, but there was no way for him to know what he looked like. And in turn, you don’t know if Chris’ wife knows who you even are, if you’d be crossing a boundary in your respective relationships without even knowing it. Further still, the thought of Felix seeing you in the arms of another and being upset, or even jealous, is enough to deter you from making that decision. 

You’re trying to form something real with Felix despite the circumstances that brought you together, and you won’t do anything to hinder that. You want him to know that you respect your marriage, and that you won’t put his feelings in jeopardy by entertaining the advances of other men. Not that you think Chris means anything by his request, but still- better to be safe about these things than sorry. 

It’s strange though; you already knew you like Felix quite a lot, and care about his feelings, but there’s something beyond that, that makes you want to abide by the sanctity of your marriage. Technically speaking, you only have to be a devoted wife in public. It’s no secret that those in arranged marriages have concubines and secret affairs. If you truly wanted to, you could do the same, but you have no wish to do so. 

Is it loyalty? Love? All you really understand is that you never want to do anything to break Felix’s heart. You also don’t know if he even has enough romantic interest in you to be jealous in the first place, but either way, that’s not an emotion you want to cause him to feel. Some may be happy to see their betrothed jealous, but you’re not that kind of woman; instead, you’d feel rather guilty and apologetic. 

You glance across the crowd, spotting Felix still mingling with his father and other men of high status, completely unaware of the situation you’ve found yourself in. Hopefully, you can return to his side soon, once you're done catching up with Chris. “I’m afraid I can’t,” you finally say, hoping he understands your need to politely turn him down. “What a shame,” he sighs a bit, his hand reaching out to you and settling on your arm, near your shoulder, “You look beautiful tonight. I would’ve loved to share a dance with you, as adults.” 

“O-Oh, thank you,” you mutter, taken aback by the words that left him. The Chris you knew was never so forward, nor did he ever openly compliment you. If you’re being honest, you’re not entirely sure how to respond; this was a situation your younger self would have dreamed of, but now you just feel.. odd. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, even when we were kids. I never imagined this where life would take us, but.. If it’s your public image that worries you, maybe I could seek you out later, and we could have some alone time?” he continues seamlessly, as if this is a sentence he’s practiced in his head over and over again. 

Again, this is something your younger self would’ve been ecstatic about, even prayed for, but now you just feel.. uncomfortable. You don’t feel flattered by his compliment, nor do you like the implication of his statement, and you recoil away from the hand that lingers uncomfortably on your arm. “We can't do that,” you say firmly, doing your utmost to make it clear you have no desire to partake in a scandalous relationship with him. You liked him once, but you were a kid then, and what you feel now for Felix is much more grounded in reality than the puppy love you had for Chris. 

“Why not?” he asks, looking at you with eyes that would’ve once made you melt. And there is genuine hurt there, which you do feel sorry about, but you simply don’t return the sentiment he seems to have. “We're both married. Shouldn't you be loyal to your wife?” you counter; even if your marriage to Felix isn’t born of “real” love, you have no interest in infidelity, nor do you want to be the reason Chris is unfaithful in his marriage.

“I don't love her, I never have. And though I moved of my own volition, I always wondered what would’ve happened if I stayed behind, and expressed my desires to make you mine. But what of you? Do you love your husband?” His words, his question, make you swallow, unsure how best to respond. You liked him once, that much is true, but you like Felix more. What you have with him.. You value it, deeply. 

It’s easy for a 14 year old to say they’re in love with their crush when they’ve never experienced what real, adult love feels like. There are times, even now, when you’re unsure of what the beating of your heart truly means, but there is one thing that you know for certain- you love Felix, much, much more sincerely than you ever loved Christopher. The difference between loving him, and being in love with him, make little difference in this case. 

Though, the more you’ve thought about it, the more you’ve come to think that maybe you are really, actually in love with him. You wouldn’t desire him if you didn’t, wouldn’t be up at night wondering what it would feel like to kiss him, or what kind of father he’d be to the children you’d one day have. You wouldn’t feel a void in your chest at the thought of no longer being by his side, even deeper than the one you’d felt upon moving away from home. 

And if there is anything your time reading romance novels has taught you, it’s that love is more than temporary butterflies and racing of the heart. Love is more than excitement, than desire, than the heat of his touch on your body; Love, real love, is the comfort you feel in his presence. The safety, the hours spent together talking or relaxing, even in the comfortable silence you share during a meal- that is love.  

When you can’t imagine your life without him in it, when even the mundane sounds fun as long as it’s with him, when you still feel warm and fuzzy in his presence even after the butterflies have passed, that is love. Now that you’ve come to know what life is like when Felix is next to you, holding you, sleeping with you, sharing his voice and his talents with you, you never want to know what the absence of him would feel like. All of that is to say, you think you’ve had your answer all along; You don’t just love Felix. You’re in love with Felix. 

“If I must tell you.. I do. I love Felix, truly. He’s a wonderful man,” you answer honestly, and Chris holds a deep frown. It must feel unfair- that’s how you felt about your circumstances at first. There’s no way for you to know how long he had feelings for you, but you were able to move on, while he clearly hadn’t. And truthfully, you feel sorry for him; none of this is his fault, but still.. You can’t change how you feel. 

“Surely you don’t mean that,” Chris says, a bit desperate, and again, your heart twists. You do mean it, unfortunately for him. And you have no intention of letting him think he has a chance to change your mind, when quite frankly, he doesn’t. Unbeknownst to you, Felix would glance your way whenever he was able to, always wanting to make sure you were handling yourself well.

It was your first solstice ball after all, and he imagined it could be overwhelming and tiring for you to mingle with so many people you had never met before. He just wanted to keep an eye on you, make sure you weren’t getting burnt out from the countless interactions with others. And that’s when he sees it- a man he doesn’t know, his hand lingering on your arm, and you, looking up at him with a troubled expression on your face. 

The look of discomfort you hold as the man continues to speak, hand still on you despite how you recoil.. He can’t help but clench his fists, a foreign sort of distaste bubbling within his veins. He can see your expression change as you speak- still uncomfortable, but not quite distressed. Sad, maybe? Perhaps this guy was being forward with you, and you were trying your best to look sympathetic as you gently turn him down. 

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I must attend to,” Felix says politely as he bows towards his father and his peers, not lingering to answer questions, though he really should if he doesn’t want to appear rude. He approaches you with haste, though still careful to not appear in too much of a hurry or frantic- he doesn’t want those around him to suspect something is amiss. The man’s hand is thankfully no longer on you, he realizes as he comes closer- it’d be terribly unbecoming of someone of his status to cause a scene.

“There you are, my love! I was looking everywhere for you,” Felix says with a smile as he approaches you, wrapping you in his arms as if the other man doesn’t exist at all. Your face reddens, heart picking up; my love, he called you my love! You’re aware this is likely only happening because he spotted you and was able to perceive how you felt, but still, your heart reacts to the words nonetheless. 

“Who’s this?” Felix asks as he turns his attention to the man in front of you, his hand resting on your waist in a motion that you’d easily be able to interpret as defensive, possessive. “O-Oh, uhm- this is Christopher. Do you remember what I told you, about how we grew up together due to our fathers being good friends? We ran into each other, and were just catching up,” you explain, and Chris, not wanting to make a fool of himself, easily goes along with your words. 

“Oh, how lovely. It's a pleasure to meet an old friend of yours,” Felix smiles jovially, extending a hand out to Chris. He accepts it, and the two politely shake hands, with Chris feeling a degree of shame and embarrassment. This definitely isn’t his finest hour; but maybe now that you’ve firmly rejected him, he can try to find happiness in his own life, love in his own marriage. 

“My deepest apologies for interrupting your reunion, but I thought it was time my wife and I shared a dance,” he says to Chris before looking back at you with a smile, and it’s so utterly charming that you practically feel your legs turn to jelly, “Shall we, my love?” God, your face must look so red right now. But after the few seconds it takes to finish processing, you gladly accept, offering a timid smile.

Felix bows politely to Chris before he leads you away by the waist, your heart still racing as you follow his lead. Away from the crowd of people, he stops and turns to you, the natural charisma he held melting away the moment your eyes meet. “Are you alright? I’m- I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all, I just..” You smile softly, and shake your head; I liked it, I want to hear you call me ‘my love’ again, I want you to keep wrapping your arms around me and holding me by the waist you want to say, but don't. Instead you carefully lean up, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Felix.” 

His face grows red, his hand reaching up to his face, fingertips lingering over the spot you kissed him. He smiles cutely, shy and sweet, heart pounding even from something so small. He’s infatuated with you, after all, and any affection from you is enough to make his body react. “Why don't we really go have that dance?” you ask with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You shared a dance when you first married of course, as is customary, but this one would be different; as opposed to a dance between newlyweds with no love between them, now you could say you were dancing with the only man you’d ever sincerely loved.

“Of course, my love,” he replies as he takes your hand in his, leading you to the center of the ballroom floor, both of you bashfully smiling and giddy with affection for the other. You do your best to ignore the stares of others around you, most of them just eager to see the display of love from the newest royal couple in front of them, and keep your focus entirely on Felix. You can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger on his lips before he shifts his attention back to your eyes, his cheeks dusted a pretty shade of pink contrasted against his freckles. 

You really want him to kiss you, if you’re being honest, but you don’t think it’d be entirely wise to share your first kiss with the eyes of the entire ballroom on you. Maybe, if either of you can conjure your bravery later on, you can kiss in the privacy of your shared room, free to indulge in the feeling of each other for as long as you wish too. Though, perhaps you should stop thinking such thoughts for the moment, lest Felix realizes you’re blushing way too hard. For now, you'll just enjoy the moment you're sharing with him, knowing now, with all your heart, that your love for him is true.

The remainder of your night continued without incident, sharing a few more dances with Felix before you separated again to continue mingling. You saw Christopher again briefly, where he apologized for his behavior and then brought you over to meet his wife. She really seemed like a sweet girl, and you hoped that Chris would be more open to the idea of loving her now that there were no “what-ifs” keeping him held back. She also seemed quite genuinely infatuated with him, which you couldn’t blame her for- Chris was strikingly handsome, and you might have still held similar feelings for him if it wasn’t for Felix. 

When the ball came to a close, you were eager to get back to your room and get your aching feet out of the heels you’d worn to match your gown, as well as get the heavy, dangly earrings off your ears. You insist that Felix bathe first, as it will take you quite some time to remove all your accessories, get your hair down from the way it was styled, and out of your intricate gown (not as intricate as your wedding gown, of course, but still enough that you wouldn’t be able to remove it swiftly.) 

He didn’t take all that long in the bath, spending just enough time to wash up and effectively dry off, entering your room after he’s changed into his sleep clothes. He respectfully keeps his eyes away from you until he’s sat comfortably away from where you are at the vanity, your dress off and left only in your undergarments. You were brushing out your hair, making sure it was completely tamed and smoothed down to make washing easier before you enter the bath. 

You take a quick glance at Felix before you enter the attached bath, his back turned to you as he nervously fiddles with his thumbs. You soak in the tub for some time, letting the hot water soothe you until it turns cooler, now comfortably warm as you take time washing your hair and body. Normally you wouldn’t take such a long time in the bath, but it was just so relaxing after the long day you’ve had, and you indulged in the comfort it offered you before you got out to dry off and slip on fresh clothes. 

You half expected for Felix to be in bed already, but when you step out you see that he was waiting up for you, sitting atop the blankets of your bed, back against the headboard. “Sorry I took so long, you didn’t have to wait for me,” you say as you step to your designated side of the bed, mirroring his position against the headboard. “Well, I didn’t want to go straight to bed without having some down time with you,” he explains a bit timidly, and you smile, finding him endlessly sweet. 

The light in the room is low, the only candles lit now being the ones closest to your bed. He sits up straighter, turning to you with a nervous disposition, and you watch him curiously, wondering what’s on his mind to make him look at you in such a way. “Listen, before we go to bed, I, uh- I actually have something for you,” Felix says, meeting your gaze timidly. 

“Really? What is it?” you ask, having not expected to receive anything so suddenly. Well, sudden to you, but Felix had actually been planning this for quite some time. He steadies his nerves and turns to his nightstand, opening the drawer and digging through it until he finds what he needs- a book. You recognize it instantly when it’s in front of you; it’s a new, almost pristine copy of the book you told him was your favorite, the one you insisted you didn’t need when you stopped to look at it the day you were out together. 

“When did you get this?” you ask in surprise, carefully taking it in your hands and ghosting your fingers over the cover. “The same night you saw it, I asked a guard to discreetly purchase it for you,” he explains with a soft, sheepish smile, hoping you’re pleased. “There’s something else,” he says, and you glance up at him in even further surprise. Gently, he takes the book from your hands, opening it to a specific page. 

“I.. before giving it to you, I wanted to read it, understand for myself why it's your favorite. So.. I did, and there’s a part that really resonates with me, and.. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to read it to you,” he explains, and your heart stirs, thumping wildly in your chest. How is he so considerate and perfect? You almost can’t believe it, and you don't even know how he found the time to read it without you knowing, but you can ask him about it later. For now, you're much more interested in the fact that he not only read your favorite novel, but wants to share a part he loved with you, a part that spoke to him, and wants you to listen to him read it in his beautiful, deep voice. 

He swallows, takes a breath, hands trembling a bit as he holds the book open and looks down at the page in front of him. You watch him with full attention, somehow feeling just as nervous; you don’t know what he intends to read, and as you yourself have read this story countless times, it’s hard to imagine which specific part he’d like the most- there were just so many possibilities and moments you loved to try and guess. But then he starts, and immediately, you feel your heart positively melt. 

"Taeryn stares at her, his fingertips ghosting her skin, his eyes transfixed in her stare, her gaze swallowing him whole. And he knows, as his fingers brush her hair softly out of her face, as her cheeks burn and breath hitches with his gentle touch, that he loves her. 

He loves her as naturally as he breathes air; to love her is effortless, as easy as it is to simply be. He loves her for as many reasons as there are stars in the sky- countless, never ending. She engulfs him, enraptures him, a moth unable to resist her bright, beckoning flame. 

And he knows, from the way every synapse in his brain fires when their lips meet, how his blood burns in his veins simply from her touch, that there is no greater feeling beyond this. To be lost in her is God's greatest gift, and he will thank Him for the rest of his days, because what else could compare to the pure bliss of loving with all that you are, and being loved in return?”

The words that you already found so beautiful sound even more so coming from him, and you can’t help but suck in a breath as you listen to him speak the words written on the page, as if he’s mirroring the character, feeling the very same emotion. He closes the book slowly, and your heart races when his eyes meet yours again. What should you say? It was beautiful? Thank you? That doesn’t feel like nearly enough to describe how you feel or how much you appreciate this gesture. 

Felix carefully sets the book to the side, his palms beginning to clam up as he looks at you. He planned this for a specific reason, but now that he’s met with the most critical moment of all, his mouth feels dry, and his chest tightens as his heart accelerates. He wants to tell you he loves you, and maybe he’s been reading the signs all wrong, but he thinks you love him too, he hopes you do. 

Maybe your affection for him doesn’t go past platonic, which he would learn to accept with time, but it would truly break his heart if you didn’t feel the same. So he hopes, he prays, with all his heart, that when he tells you how he feels, you’ll reciprocate. You can tell what he wants to say, even with your lack of romantic experience, it’s obvious; no one commits to a gesture so thoughtful and romantic without the intent to become something greater. Given your time reading romance, that’s something you feel confident enough to say- Felix loves you. And you love him too. 

So you meet him halfway, inching ever so slightly closer to him, looking him in the eyes as you do. His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and then back again, his breath beginning to go uneven. Felix looks at you, eyes full of love, awe, and wonder, and not wasting another breath, he kisses you, his hands reaching to your face, holding it in his hands. It’s chaste and careful, your eyes remaining closed for several seconds after he’s pulled away, your body buzzing with elation. 

“I- I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but you looked so beautiful today and I-” he swallows, nervous to continue, but pushing through it the best he could, “I wanted to tell you, wanted to kiss you, and I.. love you.” It feels as if a million butterflies are in your stomach, light and erratic in their movement, their excitement unable to be contained. “I love you too,” you admit, breathy and soft, inching a bit closer, and he does the same, until your bodies are only centimeters apart. “Is it okay to.. I want to kiss you again,” he asks, desperately awaiting your approval. You grant him it easily, and his lips are on you again within seconds. 

One of his hands remains on your face, cupping it gently, while the other moves to your waist, arm wrapping around carefully, keeping you close. The foreign feelings you’d never experienced that were in all the literature you read- you feel them now, intense and overwhelming, your senses knowing nothing other than Felix. What is it that novels usually compare it to? Sparks flying? This was beyond simple sparks- it was like fireworks, bright, beautiful, bursting in your blood and filling you with warmth. 

The kisses you share are slow, measured and careful, and you never separate for long, your lips always finding each other again within seconds. Felix is breathless when he finally pulls away for longer than a few seconds, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes looking straight into yours, countless emotions swimming in them. “I want.. can I be honest?” he asks and you swallow, whispering a soft ‘yes’ that you hope doesn't sound too nervous. 

“I.. want you, really, really badly but.. truth be told, I'm nervous,” he expresses sincerely, his cheeks growing a deep shade of pink, traveling all the way up to the tips of his ears. Your face, already flushed from kissing, grows impossibly hotter from his admission. He wants you.. Like wants you, wants you? You want him too, having spent multiple sleepless nights wondering what it would be like to have each other, body and soul. 

“It's alright, I am too,” you tell him honestly. “Are you?” he can't help but ask; not because he doubts you, but rather wanting the affirmation that he isn't the only one with a heart racing out of control. You nod, seeking out his hand and intertwining your fingers. “I am. But I want you too.” God, he almost feels light headed; he can't believe the moment he's secretly dreamed of countless times is actually happening. His face is hot, his blood burns, his heart thumps loudly in his chest, and you want him, you want him, you want him. He takes a breath, does his best to steel his nerves before he speaks again, “We'll go slow, so please tell me if it becomes too much.”

You nod, giving his hand a squeeze, meant to convey that you understand and will do as he requested if you begin to feel overwhelmed. “I love you,” Felix whispers against your lips before he captures them in another kiss, needier this time, more urgent and impassioned. You can't help but let out a noise of surprise at first, but you easily melt into the kiss, eyes closing as you meet his passion with fervor of your own. 

His kisses are slow, just as before, but they feel more purposeful, sensual, and when you feel his tongue against your lips, begging to be let in, you easily oblige the request, opening your mouth for him and allowing his tongue to run across yours. Your stomach flips, the feeling of his tongue curiously exploring and rubbing around yours making you dizzy; you never knew kissing could feel this good.

It's so intimate to share your breath with someone, and you feel your body react in ways entirely new, but pleasant. You spend several minutes just like this; kissing over and over, letting his tongue draw circles around yours, only pulling away when one of you desperately needs a breath. 

“Can I touch you?” Felix asks once he's pulled away again, and the question, along with the deep, breathy baritone of his voice, makes a shiver run down your spine as butterflies once again flutter in your stomach. “Yes,” you breathe, perhaps sounding a bit more eager than you would've wished, but really, you shouldn't feel embarrassed when he wants you just as bad as you want him. 

Again, his lips are on you, but this time he allows his hands to carefully roam your body, gentle and slow in their exploration. Even though he's simply touching you over your clothes, you react to his touch as if bare, whimpering into his mouth when he palms your breasts with both hands and gently squeezes. 

It's easy for his thumbs to find your hardened nipples through the fabric of your nightgown, and again you let a soft sound of pleasure pass your lips. Felix pulls away to look at you, flushed, breathless, and so, so pretty; he's never felt more blessed in his entire life than he does right now. He watches you bite your lip when his thumbs pass over your nipples again, doing your best to suppress what you perceive to be an embarrassing noise. 

“Is it alright if I take this off you?” he asks, stilling the movement of his hands as he waits for your answer. “O-Only if you take your clothes off too,” you answer shyly, and he smiles timidly, finding your request more than fair. “Of course, my love. Whatever you want.” Felix stands from the bed, slowly pulling his sleep shirt up and over his head, likely feeling that you'll be more comfortable if he's the one who's exposed first. And God, you can't believe the physique he'd been hiding underneath all this time; his lean body much more toned than you could've even imagined. 

He feels shy under your attentive gaze, but he continues nonetheless, taking the waistband of his pants into his fingers and pulling them down his legs. His erection, of course, doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you can't help but stare at the obvious tent it creates in his underwear. You've never seen one before, and you're infinitely curious what his looks like, but there's no need to rush to find out; you have all night together. 

Swallowing down the shyness your stare makes him feel, he returns to the bed, sitting directly in front of you. You start to lift up your gown, but he stops you, replacing your hands with his own- after all, he asked if he could be the one to take it off you. You allow him to lift it up to your shoulders before you help him take it all the way off, paying no mind to where on the floor it lands once it has been tossed aside. 

The shy part of you makes you want to cover your breasts and avoid his gaze, but the other part can't help but indulge in the mesmerized twinkle held in Felix’s eyes. “So beautiful,” you hear him say under his breath, his hands now making contact with your skin without a barrier. You look down, taking in the sight of his hands holding and squeezing your breasts. 

Your body shudders when his thumbs once again rub over you nipples, and he loves watching the way your face changes, how your brows furrow and you bite your lip, the way you gasp when he takes your nipples between his fingers, how your eyes close and head falls back when he carefully rubs and pinches them. 

He kisses you when you lift your head again, but he doesn't linger there for nearly as long as before; instead, he begins to trail kisses down your jaw, to your neck. The kisses make you shiver, and you tilt your head to the side, allowing him easier access to your heated skin. He carefully guides you back as he kisses all over your skin, so that you fall back against the bed, head not quite making it to the pillows, but you don’t particularly care.

He takes his time, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses over the expanse of your neck, his slow descent to your collarbone and the top of your chest nearly driving you crazy with want. Your breath hitches when he kisses one of your nipples before letting his tongue come out to lick it, lips closing gently around it.

He gives your other nipple equal attention once he's satisfied with his stimulation of the first one he devoted his attention to, and then slowly trails kisses down your body, below your ribs and over your stomach. You feel almost delirious with anticipation, and you half wonder if he's only going slow to drive you crazy (he isn't, of course, but you're becoming much too needy to recognize that.)

Felix caresses your legs, placing kisses over your thighs, as well as just over your panties. There's an obvious wet spot, which you can't help but feel embarrassed by once you've seen that he's noticed. You can't help it- this is easily the most aroused you've been in your entire life. “Want me to take them off?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, covering your face in embarrassment when he chuckles at you. 

“You're so cute when you're shy,” he says, and you let out a whine; why does he have to say it with such a sinfully attractive voice? Your reactions boost his confidence, helping to alleviate some of the nerves he'd felt when you first began. And you really are so, so cute right now; it simultaneously further endears him to you and makes his cock throb. 

“I'm going to take them off now,” he warns since you aren't looking at him, and he wants you to be completely aware of what actions he takes. You peek through your fingers, nervously anticipating what his reaction to your exposed sex will be. He slowly pulls your underwear down your legs, and you take a deep breath before you part your legs for him to see you fully. 

Fuck, you're perfect. There is nothing in the world that could've prepared him for the sight of your glistening heat. He swallows and licks his lips, looking back at you before taking any further action. “Do you need to stop?” he asks, not wanting to push you too far if you aren't ready for this. Truthfully, you are overwhelmed- but in the best way possible, and you definitely don't want to stop here. 

“No, want more,” you admit, trying your best not to stutter or mumble so he hears you clearly. “Tell me if you change your mind?” he says, more like a question than a statement, and you nod, assuring him you will if you feel the need to. He lowers himself so his head is between your legs, and the sight of him there alone is positively dizzying. 

You hear him comment under his breath about how wet you are as his fingers rub through your folds, which does no favors for your racing heart. He then carefully spreads you apart with two fingers, and again, you see him swallow and lick his lips. Fuck, he has to taste you, needs to find out if you're just as sweet as he imagines you to be. 

Everything is so new to both of you, and Felix doesn’t entirely know what he’s doing, but instinct drives him forward. You gasp and shudder when his tongue makes contact with your dripping heat, slowly but greedily licking up all you offer him. When his tongue finds your clit (a pleasant accident on Felix’s part given his unfamiliarity with the female body), the pleasured noise that involuntarily escapes you tells him he should focus his attention there. 

“Feels good?” he asks before he licks again; he’s sure he knows the answer, but he still wants to hear you say it anyways. You nod quickly, another embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips when his tongue swirls around your most sensitive spot. You’ve pleasured yourself before, in private moments with your own fingers, but nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to how Felix’s tongue feels. 

His lips wrap around your clit, as if kissing it, his tongue alternating between long, flat licks, quick flicks, and swirling around it, and you’re positively seeing stars, eyes rolling back as your head falls back against the mattress. You cover your mouth with your hand, your other hand desperately clutching at the sheets beneath you, legs trembling and thighs unconsciously closing around Felix’s head. 

You feel it, the familiar heat pooling deep in your stomach, your muffled moans quickly turning to desperate whines and whimpers as he drives you closer and closer to sweet release. You can tell however, that your orgasm will be much more intense than any you had ever given yourself, and it scares and excites you in equal measure. But fuck, even muffled, your noises sound so unbelievably sweet in his hears, and he wants to hear them louder, clearer. 

“Take your hand away, my love, I want to hear you,” he separates from your heat long enough to tell you, and you whine, this time in embarrassment, as you lift your head up to look at him. A mistake, in hindsight- the sight you’re met with being more erotic than your heart can handle. His mouth and chin glisten with your juices, the sweat lingering on his brow making his hair stick to his forehead in a way that makes your heart want to give out- he’s just so.. alluring.

“But, the guards,” you try, and he shakes his head, not at all deterred by the fact that they stand outside your bedroom doors. “Don’t care,” he says simply, and you can tell he’s completely serious. There aren’t many things Felix is selfish about in his life, but this, you- he’ll be as selfish as he pleases. “They’re just for me, right? So I don’t care if they hear them, because you’re mine, and they know that too. So please, let me hear you.” 

Oh, wow. How can you deny him after hearing that? With a shy nod, you agree to not cover your mouth anymore, and he smiles, pleased with your response, and quickly gets back to work between your legs. It’s insane how quickly your release builds back up, as if there was never a pause to begin with, and a curse leaves you between your loud, whiny moans and whimpers. Felix has never heard you curse before, but he has to admit he likes how it sounds coming from you, and knowing he has caused you to become debauched enough to do so without being conscious of it. 

Before you know it, you’re seeing white, releasing all over his face as your body jolts and trembles, back arching from the bed as he continues to stimulate you through it. You eventually whine and push his head away from you, becoming overstimulated from all the attention his tongue continued to give you after your orgasm. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he moves up your body, connecting his lips with yours again, and the taste of yourself lingering on him and his tongue makes your head spin. 

Your hands reach for his underwear, trying to pull down the fabric and spring his cock free; it’s a much more forward and desperate act than you ever imagined yourself doing, but you’re so hungry for him that you can no longer think about being demure. You just want him, more than you’ve ever wanted anything in all your years on this earth. Felix takes the hint, not that it’s even subtle enough to be a ‘hint,’ and makes quick work of taking off his underwear. 

The sight of his cock leaves you speechless, breathless; do they all look so simultaneously hot and pretty, or is it just because it belongs to Felix? “Can I..?” you ask, not entirely sure what you’re asking to do- you just know you want to make him feel as good as he made you feel. God, yes, please, Felix thinks, but he just nods with a slightly shy smile, shifting his weight off you and laying on his side next to you. 

You lay on your side as well, pressing a kiss to his lips as your hand reaches for his cock, fingers curiously running along his length, feeling every vein and ridge. Felix releases a shuddery breath against your mouth, your fingers feeling so different from his own, small and soft, but so, so good. Your touch is intoxicating, and his body jolts when you rub your thumb over the tip, spreading his pre-cum all over it. 

A soft groan escapes him when you enclose your fingers around his length, fingers not quite able to wrap completely around and meet your thumb, but it’s more than enough to have Felix feeling good when you start slowly moving your fist up to the tip and then back down. Eventually, as your fingers spread more and more of his pre-cum, his length becomes slick, and it becomes easier for you to pick up your pace, swallowing all the low groans he emits with your mouth.

But you can’t help but think- it felt so good when Felix used his tongue on you, so wouldn’t the same be true for him? Isn’t it worth trying? He opens his eyes when you take your hand away, watching curiously and with bated breath as you gently push him back by the shoulder, having him lay flat on his back as you move to lie comfortably against his legs, his cock a mere inches away from your face. 

He lifts himself up to watch you, supporting his weight with his forearms, breath quickening as you take him in your hand again, sticking your tongue out to curiously lick the tip. The taste of his pre-cum is unlike anything you’ve ever had, and while you don’t think there is anything you could compare it to, it’s not unpleasant. You look up at Felix through your lashes, and God, the sight of you, so pretty and perfect, with his cock in your hand and tongue licking away at him, is enough to drive him crazy. 

Would he fit inside your mouth? How good would it make him feel? Driven by curiosity and desire, you open your mouth, your tongue caressing the underside of his cock as you start to sink your head down on him, and the shaky, breathy groan he lets out in response makes your heart skip a beat and core throb. You keep your eyes on him, watching as his head falls back, his adam’s apple bob up and down, the way his stomach contracts the more you pleasure him. 

The sounds that escape him encourage you to keep trying your best to take more of him in your mouth, retreating just a bit when you’ve taken enough of him to cause yourself to gag. Felix has to make a conscious effort to not buck his hips up and drive himself further down your throat, lest he hurt you or make you gag again, but fuck, it feels unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He knows for a fact he’s going to cum if he lets you keep going much longer, and so, with a shaky breath, he asks you to stop.

You pull off of him the moment he asks, looking at him curiously; you knew he was feeling good, so why did he want you to stop? He sits up completely, capturing your lips in a kiss lest you worry about how well you did for him; you were perfect, you’ll always be perfect, and even if he’s at times too shy to convey that with words, he’ll make sure you know with his actions. “I want to be inside you,” he tells you, lips still close enough to yours to easily kiss you again, to feel your breath against your skin, “do you want that too? Do you want me?” 

God, yes, you want him so fucking bad. Are you nervous? Of course you are, you’ve never been so intimate with someone before, but there’s no one in this world you would rather give yourself to than Felix. You want to be connected to him, physically, mentally, in all ways conceivable. He’s the one for you, the love of your life, the most perfect man you’d ever known, so there’s not a single doubt in your mind, or your heart, that he’s the one you want to do this with, and that you want to do it now.

“Yes,” you kiss him, “I want you,” another kiss, “so bad,” and another. He’s elated to hear you say it, his relief and joy going beyond words. He would’ve waited for you, of course he would’ve, but he can’t deny how much he craves being inside you, making love to you, pouring all his love and affection into you. He loves you so, so much, and it’s reflected even in his most carnal of desires. It’s more than sex, it’s more than simply wanting to feel good; to be with you intimately is the greatest display of love you could ever share.

He lies you down carefully, making sure your head actually makes it to the pillows this time, and he situates himself between your legs, hands rubbing over your hips and thighs as he leaves another lingering kiss to your reddened lips. His hand comes between your legs, and he finds your hole with his fingers, wanting to make sure he knew where to aim his cock. You’re still so wet and warm, and the fact that he’s this close to being inside you feels like a blissful dream. 

Taking his cock in his hand and lining it up, he looks at you, wanting to make sure one last time that you want him to keep going. “Are you ready?” he asks and you nod, completely, 100% positive you want him inside you. “Yes, I'm ready, please put it in,” you practically beg, and that’s all Felix needs to hear to continue. He starts to push in slowly, watching your face carefully for any discomfort or pain, stopping when he hears you let out a small hiss. 

“Are you okay? Do you need to stop?” Felix asks, using all of his self control to make sure he takes good care of you, and makes your first times as comfortable as possible. “I-I’m okay, just keep going slow,” you tell him and he nods, seeking out one of your hands and intertwining your fingers. “Squeeze if you need to, okay? I won’t do anything to hurt you, my love, tell me to stop and I will.” You smile, already knowing he’d do his utmost best to make you feel safe, loved, and comfortable. 

It stings a bit, but it doesn’t necessarily hurt- and Felix’s soothing words, touch, and kisses do wonders in lessening the discomfort you initially felt. Felix clenches his teeth once he’s fully sheathed inside your heat, your warm, wet walls tightly enveloping him making him almost overwhelmed from how good it feels. He thought your mouth was amazing, but this- God, it’s better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. 

You can see how much effort he’s pouring into staying still until you're ready for him to move- clenched jaw, furrowed brows, sweat dripping from his brow from concentration. Contrary to what he expected, he’s the one squeezing your hand, trying desperately to ground himself and not lose control of his body, to succumb to his senses. He’s breathing heavily, forehead once again pressing against yours, but you don’t mind in the slightest. 

You love how close he is, how full of him you feel, how the sting and discomfort slowly dissolves away, leaving nothing but the desire to feel him move inside you. “You can move, I’m ready,” you whisper, and carefully, slowly, he pulls out to the tip before pressing back in one gentle, fluid motion. “It’s okay? Doesn’t hurt?” he asks and you shake your head, timidly smiling at him. “Feels good, keep going,” you tell him, and he easily obliges, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in the feeling of you.

He can’t help but groan, even with the slow pace he’s setting he just feels so good, and the way you look up at him doesn’t do him any favors. Your pretty eyes, your flushed face, the way your hair has messily fallen around you, the way you clench with every sound that tumbles from his lips, letting him know how much you like hearing him- everything, literally everything about you, about this moment, is a blessing to him. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, causing him to push in deeper, and his eyes roll back, head falling forward into your shoulder as another groan leaves him. He gradually starts to pick up his pace, always making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying it before he goes faster, experimenting with angles to find what feels best for you, because everything is already good for him. 

He knows he’s found the right angle when you let out a loud gasp, followed by a moan when he thrusts again, and again, your hand tightly squeezing his, though he knows it’s purely because of the pleasure, and not at all because he’s hurting you or you need him to stop. You curse under your breath again, your nails starting to dig into the flesh under his knuckles, your other hand clutching once again at the sheets beneath you. 

“Feels good? Tell me, tell me it feels good,” Felix practically begs in your ear, his deep voice growing higher in pitch as he drives himself closer to release, his groans turning into desperate sounding whines. “So good, fuck, love you so much, feels so good,” you babble, and Felix whines louder, hips stuttering as he continues fucking into you. He intended for this moment to be sweet and sensual until the end, but he really didn’t anticipate how your walls around his cock would drain him of his composure. 

You don’t seem to mind in the slightest however- in fact, you seem to be enjoying the moment just as much as him, your legs starting to tremble as your second orgasm looms closer and your moans and whines grow in volume. He crashes his lips into yours, your kisses turning much less romantic than before, having devolved into a messy, desperate display of tongue and teeth. It’s a different sort of display of passion, but it is passion all the same, and you couldn’t ask for anything better than this; Felix is perfect in everything he does, and this is no exception. 

You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, and you know he must be close; so you keep your legs tightly wrapped around him, making sure that when his cum shoots inside you, it’ll be as deep as it can get. Feeling close yourself, and wanting to cum with him, you bring your free hand to your clit, rubbing it in the quick circles you know feels best for you. Within seconds, you’re cumming around his cock, and the way you squeeze and clench around him is enough to send him straight into his, his cum shooting out in long spurts, filling you to the brim. 

You’re both breathless, hearts racing and bodies hot, and after collecting his breath, Felix kisses you again, not messy or desperate as just moment priors, but full of love, truly the happiest he has ever been. He doesn’t pull out of you until he feels himself start to soften, and he mutters for you to wait there for a moment and stay still as he rushes to the attached bathroom for a tissue to clean you up.

You wince a little, a bit tender and sensitive from all the attention you received, but Felix is gentle and careful, as he is with everything when it comes to you. When he’s done, you make your way under the blankets, shifting over to your side of the bed, waiting for him to blow out the candles and settle in next to you. Should you both get dressed? Maybe, but neither of you particularly want to- there’s something special and intimate in staying just as you are now, bare in each other's arms. 

He holds you close, as he always does, kissing the top of your head, and smiling when you look up at him from where your head lies against his chest. “I love you so much,” he tells you and you smile too, pecking him on the lips and hugging him tight. “I love you too,” you whisper as you close your eyes, exhaustion quickly settling over you. You never imagined how happy you would one day become the day you became Felix’s wife, and now you know that it was actually a blessing in disguise, something you didn’t know you needed. 

From the moment he first saw you, Felix knew you were the one, instantly enamored with you. He hoped with all his heart his marriage was one he could be happy in, that his wife would be someone he could truly love, and you answered his prayers from the very moment you entered his life. He doesn’t want to say it was love at first sight, but somehow, he just knew- you were perfect, the one he was destined to be with and love with all his heart, his soulmate. 

It sounds like a cliche he’d find in one of your romance novels, but it’s genuinely how he feels. No one in this world would ever compare to you, and he’d forever be grateful to his parents, your parents, and even God himself, for putting you on this earth at the same time as him, and allowing you to be his wife. He wishes he had words stronger than “I love you,” or that he knew how to articulate himself in a way that would explain the depths of how he feels, but he supposes those simple words will have to do. He loves you, and there has never been anything he's been more certain of than that. 

[king-bumis-armpit]

The Wedding Weaver

Written for Maiko Week 2024 - Wedding

Summary:

The master matchmaker and self-proclaimed Wedding Weaver is going to be in Ba Sing Se for the first annual Peace Extravaganza hosted by Avatar Aang. Inspired by his message of love and unity, she will be offering a discount on her services for the week of the festival! Find your peace and harmony with your perfect other half…

Mai and Zuko are brought together by forces beyond their control.

Author's Note:

This is admittedly a big stretch of the prompt. After I wrote this, I saw that “matchmaker” was actually a prompt back in 2022! I didn’t have the desire to write back then, but I’m a long time reader of Maiko fics. If you’ve written one, I have probably read it multiple times and I love you <3 That being said, this is my first foray into writing so please be kind ^^

Also, I should mention this is probably not an accurate portrayal of matchmakers and it is certainly not meant to be a representation of any cultures that have historically utilized matchmaking. It’s just a silly idea I had and I wanted to write.

The Wedding Weaver

The master matchmaker and self-proclaimed Wedding Weaver is going to be in Ba Sing Se for the first annual Peace Extravaganza hosted by Avatar Aang. Inspired by his message of love and unity, she will be offering a discount on her services for the week of the festival! Find your peace and harmony with your perfect other half…

Mai looked at the paper with disdain. “Why exactly are you showing me this, Mother?”

Michi sternly met her daughter’s gaze. “You have been moping about this house for far too long. I was engaged by the time I was your age!”

“Look how well that turned out.”

“Young lady!” Michi seemed to be about to launch into a tirade, but for some reason she held back and sighed. “You know we are traveling into the city for the festival. I thought perhaps it would give you something to do, since you are always bored.” 

Mai’s Aunt Mura landed a very lucrative business deal with a guild of artisans. She would be providing florals and arranging the decorations for their stalls during the festival. Merchants from all over the Fire Nation, and doubtless the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes as well, were traveling to Ba Sing Se for the event. The set up process would be intense and Mai and Michi both were planning to help. But once the festival was underway, the two of them could step back and enjoy a peaceful vacation. Mai was planning on taking Tom Tom to the zoo that Aang helped build, buying Earth Kingdom daggers, and getting a cup of tea at the Jasmine Dragon (at a time when she knew Zuko would be in a meeting of course). Meeting with a Matchmaker and possibly having to entertain a stranger was not on the top of her to do list.

“No thank you.” Mai replied curtly.

Michi sighed, “I was afraid you'd say that, but it's too late. Your aunt and I already signed you up.”

Mai expected this kind of treachery from her mother, but not her aunt. “What on earth were you thinking? Why would auntie do that to me?”

“I was thinking that you needed to get out of the house. And Mura agrees. You’ve been more despondent than normal. All we want for you, Mai, is to be happy.”

Mai shook her head. She could probably get out of it if she really wanted to, but when her mother put it that way it sounded depressing. Maybe she should give it a try. What's the worst that could happen?

— — 

“Is that all for the agenda?” Zuko was in a hurry to get out of there. His combined meetings with the Fire Sages and his Royal Advisors always seemed to drag on. It felt like they were all ganging up against him. No wonder all of his ancestors were so cranky.

“Actually my Lord, there is one more item we wish to address with you. As you well know, there have been two assassination attempts on your life in the past four months. Furthermore, you are in the precarious position of lacking in heir,” an elder Fire Sage began. 

Zuko did not like the sound of this. “What of it?”

“Well your majesty,” one of his advisors continued, “we were hoping that you might start to make some progress in that department.”

“Surely you're not suggesting that I go out and have a child tonight.”

“Not at all. Not at all. But perhaps you could enter another courtship?” the Advisor replied.

Zuko stiffened. He knew that he shouldn't still be so hung up on her. It’s been months since our breakup, and she has a boyfriend. Kei Lo. May he suffer the torment of Agni’s eternal flame.

Oh Mai. She’s so beautiful, and lethal, and witty, and she’s always bored but never boring. 

“My Lord?” The spell was broken.

“How about I name Kiyi my successor and we all call it a day?” 

“That is a… fair enough solution in case of an emergency. But consider what the burden would be like for her if she were to ascend. A significant number of the people are struggling to accept you as they're rightful ruler, but she does not even have Royal blood. What do you think would be her reception?” Shiu- the Great Sage- prodded him gently.

Zuko bit his lip. He hadn't thought of that. “I don't know what you want me to do. Being the head of state doesn't give me much free time to go around meeting young women.”

“We believe we have a solution,” The advisor who spoke passed him a paper. It appeared to be an advertisement of some sort.

“You want me to see a matchmaker?”

— — 

Mai hated to admit it, but she was nervous. After the festivities had begun, the vendors assured Mura that they didn't need any additional help for the day. Consequently, Mai had nothing to do while waiting for her appointment with the Wedding Weaver except imagine worst case scenarios. What if she asks me a bunch of weird personal questions? What if she tries to set me up with a creepy old guy? What if her office is all pink and lovey-dovey?

In reality, the Weaver’s office was relatively large and open. The walls were green, and the furniture seemed to all be locally made. At the back of the room privacy screens prevented her from seeing the countless filing cabinets of her clients’ information. In the center of the room was a large desk, but instead of thin wooden chairs, on either side there were great comfy recliners. Mai sat in one, the matchmaker the other. Mai's mother, Aunt, and little brother had all accompanied her and sat on a couch behind her. Against the wall was a large standing loom, with a project clearly in-progress. It seemed the Weaver had chosen that moniker for a reason.

The Wedding Weaver herself was a petite woman. Her snowy hair was held in a tight chignon and her eyes sparkled with something that Mai didn’t entirely trust. “Don't be nervous dear,” the Weaver said while pouring some tea. She passed Mai a cup which she accepted gratefully. “Now, tell me about your ideal husband.”

“Umm… That’s a bit broad, don't you think?”

The older woman laughed. “Let me help you out. Do you have a preference for if he's Fire Nation or not? Do you want him to be a bender? Do you have occupational preferences? What values do you most look for in a partner?”

Surprisingly, Tom Tom spoke up first. “He has to live nearby. Mai can't move away.” The boy toddled from the couch and up into his sister’s lap. She accepted him without question. The pout on his face was very convincing, but even if it wasn't, Mai agreed. Best to limit the results to her own country. What if she actually liked the guy?

“Yes. Fire Nation. I don't really care if he's a bender. But if you do choose a bender, I want him to have conventional weapons training as well.”

The matchmaker raised her eyebrows. “Do you get into a lot of fights?”

Mai smirked. “Not so much anymore. But a lot of benders can be sort of pretentious to non-benders like myself. I'm trained with knives, you see.” Mai pulled one from her sleeve to prove her point, as Tom Tom looked on in awe. That was something she loved about Zuko. He thought her deadly precision was just as magical as making fire appear. They would train together for hours, each taking turns to watch the other in admiration and desire… Mai mentally kicked herself. This was NOT about him. It was about her. 

Her mother spoke next. “Mai comes from a noble lineage. We would prefer someone with a title or a respectable job in the service of the Fire Nation.” The Weaver noted that Mai shifted uncomfortably at this. Curious, she thought. Perhaps the girl is self-conscious around higher nobility. The Weaver dismissed it as a non-issue. She is dignified and reserved, she would fit right in.

The matchmaker smiled. “Yes of course. Many such men are in town for the festival, and quite a few have booked with me. That shouldn't be so hard.” She thought about her next appointment with anticipation. That woman has no idea how impressive my clients are.

Mai spoke once again. “When it comes to values, I don't know how to classify this but I want someone who treats me like an equal. Someone who is trustworthy and is willing to share their heaviest burdens with me.” 

She blushed at this confession, but the matchmaker did not know why. Surely anyone would want such a dedicated girlfriend?

“What about physicality? Any preferences with regards to appearance?”

Mai thought for a minute. “I don't have strong feelings about that really.”

Mura objected. “Oh no! Find our girl someone handsome!”

The Weaver laughed. “I think that can be arranged.” She had taken diligent notes throughout the meeting, and it seemed she already had a few names in mind.

She had Mai fill out a parchment questionnaire before leaving so she would have some additional personal info and more detailed preferences, but the Weaver liked to start by getting a sense of the person through conversation. She found it produced a much more accurate tapestry of a person’s desires. 

— — 

Mai’s family left late in the afternoon, as they had claimed the last spot on her schedule. However, today she had accepted a special request for an out-of-hours appointment from the Fire Lord himself. He, naturally, had diplomatic appointments throughout the commencement of the Peace Extravaganza. But beyond that he required the utmost discretion.

He did not arrive in her office until the sun was setting, but she did not mind in the slightest. He was her most important customer to date, and she was determined to find him a good match. When he walked in, he was accompanied by two older men: one of his advisors and one of the Fire Sages. She bowed to him in the Fire Nation custom as they all took their seats. She thought about offering tea, but remembered that his uncle was the best tea maker in the city and decided against it. Her brew surely could not compare.

She began in her usual way: “Don't be shy. Tell me about your ideal wife.”

“Oh! Uh…” Zuko was at a loss for what to say. His traitorous thoughts ran rampant: Her name is Mai. She lived across the street. She works for her aunt in a flower shop. She kissed me when I was thirteen and my life has never been the same.

The Matchmaker smiled warmly. Her clients weren't so chatty today. “That's okay, dear. Does she need to be Fire Nation? Do you want her to be a bender? Are there requirements for being the Fire Lady? What values do you most look for in a partner?”

Zuko took a breath and tried to remember all her questions. Maybe it was because of his mother’s theater background, but whenever he was nervous, he found it helpful to put on a persona. I’m not Zuko, I’m the dragon emperor and I am looking for a bride. He put on his best royal voice and began, “I think it would be best if she was from the Fire Nation. If she is to be my wife, then she will be their ruler someday. And a ruler should be well acquainted with her people. In that vein, a good education is also important. I want someone who can help me make decisions and be my true equal. I don't want her to feel imposed upon because of my station.” Zuko almost choked up during that statement. He couldn't stop thinking about Mai and all of the ways he failed her. He desperately wanted to be anywhere but there. 

The matchmaker’s eyes darted to the forms on her desk. She shuffled through until she found what she was looking for. The Royal Fire Academy for Girls, eh? The matchmaker knew she was entering dangerous territory. It was always tempting to pair up clients who had sessions back to back. But she’d learned well enough from the Kangaroo Island Incident that this was not always wise. 

“A fire bender would be strongly preferred,” the Fire Sage cut in.

Zuko's response was immediate and involuntary. “No!” Everyone looked at him, and he scrambled to regain his composure. “I mean… a fire bender would be fine but I don't have strong preferences in that regard.” 

The Weaver’s eyes twinkled with mischief. He probably wanted a young lady who he could impress with his bending. She’d met many a man like that in her day, and some of them were quite impressive indeed. The gloomy girl wasn’t a bender, but she would still be hard to impress. Perhaps that is what he needs.

She pursed her lips: “Are you trained in any martial arts other than bending?”

Zuko was surprised by the question. “I trained with Master Piandao in dual dao swords.” For some reason, this answer seemed to please the Weaver greatly.

“Don't forget, Fire Lord Zuko, your prime directive in this union is to produce an heir. And it would be most beneficial for the nation if that child was a firebender,” his advisor at last spoke up.

Zuko responded icily: “I do not care if my child is a firebender or not. And for your sake, you had better not care either.” 

The Weaver recalled how the knife girl had cradled her brother in her arms.The pair would be good parents. Perhaps a tad over-protective, but a little prince or princess would require a greater level of care.

The Fire Lord continued speaking, “But since you reminded me that your rush for an heir was spurred on by multiple assassination attempts, I would like a woman who knows at least basic self-defense. My guards can only do so much. It would ease my mind if she could protect herself.”

The Matchmaker nodded in agreement. Truly this job was getting too easy. “Do you have any preferences on how she should look?”

Zuko blanched, and instinctively reached up to touch his scar. “I really don't think I have any room for judgment.”

The Matchmaker tsked. “Nonsense. You are quite handsome, and everyone is attracted to different traits. Is there anything- a certain eye color or hair style- that you find particularly compelling?”

Before he could stop himself, Zuko answered, “Long hair. Straight. And silky smooth.”

The Matchmaker smiled. This time was nothing like Kangaroo Island. The two were obviously meant to be. “How do you feel about bangs?”

“I think they're really cute,” he said with a small voice.

The Matchmaker handed him his exit paperwork, and leaned back in her seat. She couldn't believe her luck! Those two kids are perfect for each other. And to think they wouldn't meet if it weren't for her planning their date. She was confident there would be a wedding within the year.

— — 

“You’re kidding!” Ty Lee squealed. “You’re really going on a date!”

“Yeah.”

“And it was set up by the most famous matchmaker in the world?”

“I guess so.”

“Do you think he’ll be handsome? Or rich? Oh! What if he’s like Earth Kingdom royalty or something?”

Mai sighed, “Honestly, Ty Lee, don’t you think I’ve had enough of handsome, rich royalty?”

Ty Lee had the decency to look ashamed. “Oh yeah. I guess I still kind of think of Zuko as our childhood friend. It’s hard to believe he was my boss. Even when I was guarding his life, he still just seemed like Zuko.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why did Zuko send you all away?” About four months ago, Zuko had seemingly out-of-nowhere decided to send the Kyoshi Warriors home. Against her reasonable judgment, Mai took the action personally. Not only did she employ them in the first place, but she had become good friends with Suki and the other girls. She often met up with them for lunch, shopping, sparring, and passing the time in general. 

Ty Lee rustled at her wording. “We were honorably discharged, thank you very much. The opposition to his reign was calming down and so I think he wanted his guard to be all Fire Nation again. There was some pretty nasty talk about us being a foreign militia in the palace, but I don’t know if that affected his decision.”

Mai nodded. She knew firsthand how brutal Fire Nation court gossip could get, but she hoped that wasn’t impacting Zuko’s security decisions.

“Anyway, don’t think you can get out of this date talk by bringing up your ex boyfriend.”

Mai shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I won’t meet him until tomorrow.” It had been less than twenty-four hours since her appointment with the Wedding Weaver and Mai had already received a missive notifying her that a match had been made and the date was going to take place the following evening. The message arrived during her lunch with Ty Lee, squashing any hopes of keeping the rendezvous secret from her friend. 

“Can I see the note?” Ty Lee asked, and Mai dutifully handed it over. She read aloud, “‘To the lady Mai, the Wedding Weaver is pleased to inform you that she has followed your string of fate and found your perfect match. As your lives twine together, never forget your dear old matchmaker.’” The note then detailed where and when they were supposed to meet, as well as the level of dress. The Weaver suggested semi-formal attire, which felt a bit pretentious to Mai. “‘P.S. The person you are seeing is of very high rank, and so you must be discreet with the information about your meeting.’ Oops!”

Mai smirked, “Oh c’mon. He’s probably lower level nobility with a big head! And besides, discretion wouldn’t stop me from telling you.” Embarrassment would, but never discretion. 

Ty Lee laughed. “What if it’s King Kuei or one of his relatives? Oh! Or someone related to Chief Arnook! You could tell people you dated multiple world leaders!”

Mai let out a rare chuckle. “That would be pretty epic. But I told her to keep it Fire Nation. Long distance seems so boring.”

“Yeah, I seem to recall that not touching for two seconds was long distance for you and Zuko back in the day,” Ty Lee joked.

Mai tried to act offended. “Hey! We were deprived of affection in childhood. We had to make up for lost time.”

“And you certainly did,” Ty Lee quipped back and Mai rolled her eyes.

Ty Lee resumed her question barrage. “So what are you wearing? And what are you doing for make up? Do you wanna try out a new hairstyle? I’ve had a lot of practice with the girls.”

“Who appointed you as my stylist?”

“I appointed myself! Please, it’ll be so fun!”

They spent the rest of the day trying out various outfits in the market and testing make up and hair at Mai’s hotel. Ty Lee insisted she do something different with her hair, but in exchange Mai was able to get her to agree to a dress that wasn’t pink. In the past Mai might have complained about the cringiness of it all, but after four months of missing her best friend– and going even longer without an excuse to get dressed up– she found herself having fun. When she went to sleep that night, she decided that however the date went the next day, it was already worth it. 

— —

On the third day of the Peace Extravaganza, Zuko rose with the sun as always and made his way to the Earth King’s palace courtyard to practice his fire bending katas. To his surprise, Aang was there as well.

“Good morning Sifu Hotman!” he said cheerfully. Zuko smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

Normally he would protest at the nickname, but he had hardly spent any time with Aang this week because of the various meetings and peace ceremonies. He hoped he could catch up with everyone once the schedule slowed down.

“Want to go through your fire forms with your old teacher?”

“Always!”

By the time they finished, it was still too early for most of the palace to be awake. But Zuko managed to flag down a servant to bring them some breakfast in the courtyard. 

“So what’s on your schedule today, your royal fieriness?” Aang asked.

Zuko sighed. “The usual, you know what it’s like. I have a meeting with Earth Kingdom’s office of veteran affairs to trade strategies for dealing with the reintegration of troops into civilian life. Then King Kuei and I are attending the opening of Ba Sing Se University’s exchange student program. After that, he and I are set to have lunch. And then it’s on to a panel discussion with the Water Tribe officials about navigation treaties. And after that we have rehearsal for the Ceremony for Perpetual Peace on the last day.”

“Wow! That’s more than me and I’m the event organizer! Do you think you could have dinner with us after the rehearsal?” Aang looked at him hopefully. 

“I wish I could but–” Zuko hesitated, “promise you won’t make fun of me for what I’m about to say?”

“Okay?” Well that wasn’t much of a promise, but Zuko figured it was the best he was going to get. 

“My advisors bullied me into seeing a matchmaker. The Wedding Weeder or something like that.”

“The Wedding Weaver!” Aang exclaimed. “She’s really famous over here. She boasts a 95% success rate. Excluding the Kangaroo Island incident of course.

“Well I’d never heard of her. But I met with her a couple of days ago and she said she already found my perfect match. She arranged for us to get dinner tonight.”

“TONIGHT?!” Aang yelled, startling a pair of passing servants. 

“Hush up!” Zuko hissed. “No one knows yet except Uncle and my council.”

“But what about Mai?” Aang asked. In the months after the war, he and Mai had become fast friends to everyone’s surprise. Retrospectively, it kind of made sense to Zuko. Aang was a lot like Ty Lee, and being the avatar meant that his life was far from boring. And despite his “upbeat attitude,” he was very accepting of “gloomy” people. It took Katara a little bit longer to warm up to Mai, but not by much. Ever since Mai broke up with him, Aang has been encouraging him to try to fix things.  

“She’s still with Kei Lo as far as I know. The last time I saw him, he told me to back off and Mai took his side. I think it’s over.”

Aang was visibly disappointed by this, and Zuko added uncomfortably, “You said this matchmaker was really good, right? I’m sure whoever she sets me up with will be… lovely.”

Aang seemed to realize he was affecting Zuko. “Oh! I’m sure she will! But don’t you think it’s a bit dishonest to try to date someone else while you still have feelings for your ex? Isn’t that like cheating?”

Zuko thought about Aang’s words. “I… I don’t know. But I don’t really have a choice. I have a bunch of old guys breathing down my throat to have a kid. I have to start somewhere.” 

Aang gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. That’s rough, buddy.”

— —

Zuko took a deep breath and began to ascend the stairs. The Weaver had reserved an entire rooftop balcony for them. He wondered what his date was thinking about all of this. The matchmaker had not revealed his identity, but had apparently told her that he was an important official who required privacy. What if she’s angry that I didn’t tell her my identity first? Mai had always hated surprises. Spirits, she was beautiful when she despised things.

Uncle had given him a gift basket with an assortment of tea leaves and several coupons for the Jasmine Dragon. He assured Zuko that if his date was caught off-guard, the smell of the tea leaves would calm her. Zuko wasn’t sure if he believed that, but he trusted that uncle knew better than him, so he figured he should probably lead with the gift. When reached the door to the balcony, he rearranged the items of the gift basket one last time.

As he stepped on the terrace, he caught sight of a female figure. She was standing at the edge of the balcony, looking out over the city with her back turned. She had long black hair that she wore loose, and for a moment he almost tricked himself into thinking it was Mai. Maybe bringing up the hair was a mistake.

“Hello–”

She spun around, knives in hand. Agni, it was Mai!

“Zuko, what the fuck? How did you find out about my date?”

Zuko gaped at her, “I– I didn’t. This is supposed to be my date.”

Mai took in the gift-basket and his gelled hair. No doubt both courtesy of his uncle.

She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake. Zuko felt his heart fall into his stomach. He dropped the basket and ran to her side. “Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean–”

She let out a snort. He pried her hands away from her face to see she was… laughing. She giggled and chortled and it was honestly a bit disconcerting at first. He had never seen her so unrestrained. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She apologized breathlessly through her mirth. She finally composed herself enough to be coherent. “I just can’t believe I traveled to the other side of the world to be set up on a date with you!” 

Zuko glowered and dropped her hands. “I could say the exact same thing!”

Mai suddenly became serious, “ I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I was finally trying to move on and here you are.”

Zuko couldn’t believe this. “Again, I could say the same! No! I should be the only one saying that. You broke up with me. And you’re dating Kei Lo. Why are you even here? What do you mean ‘move on’?”

Mai crossed her arms. “For your information, Kei Lo broke up with me because I couldn’t let go of you.” Zuko felt a fluttering in his ribcage, but she didn’t stop there, “And I tried to be a good girlfriend, but you weren’t interested in my support. You would rather keep all your emotions locked away in your chest.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk–”

“Hey! I’ve been doing better and you know it.” 

He supposed that was true. After all, she was expressing herself with gusto today. He remembered Uncle’s calming tea and retrieved the basket. Luckily, it had landed right side up.

He walked back to Mai and extended it to her. No use in letting it go to waste. “For you.”

Mai looked like she was about to make another cutting remark, but then she noticed the contents. “Is this from Iroh?” He nodded and she accepted the basket. She picked up a sachet of spiced oolong and inhaled. “This always was my favorite. Thank you.” She hesitated, “Are you sure you don’t want to save this nice array for the next girl?”

Zuko huffed. “What next girl?” 

He looked around the balcony for the first time, as if he thought some beautiful woman would emerge and save him from this awkwardness. There was a table piled high with food that was rapidly growing cold, and two chairs. Mai was glad she pilfered some dumplings before he arrived. Ty Lee made her spend hours getting ready and so she was starving. And now Zuko was probably going to kick her out before she got dinner.

Mai shrugged. “I don’t know. Whoever the Weaver sends you after me?”

“I didn’t actually see her of my own free will. It’s kind of a long story. Would you like to sit?” He gestured to the table. He pulled out her chair for her. Mai raised an eyebrow, but she set her basked to the side and accepted the gesture nonetheless. He sat across from her.

“So, start talking.” Mai quickly piled food onto her plate. If Zuko actually had a long story, she could finally eat.

“My advisors are concerned that I don’t have an heir. I currently have Kiyi listed, but… if something happens I don’t know if the people will accept her.”

Mai felt a chill run up her spine. “Zuko, you’re talking as though you’re going to croak any minute. Ty Lee told me that the situation was stabilizing and that was why you sent the Kyoshi warriors back to their island.”

Zuko took a bite of a steamed bun and refused to meet her gaze. Mai glared at him until he spoke, “The situation is stabilizing, but it will never be fully secure until the Fire Nation can operate independently. I heard some of the girls talking outside my office one day. They were feeling homesick. It was always meant to be a temporary post, and I didn’t want to force them to stay if they were unhappy. Anyway, Suki and Ty Lee had been personally training the replacement guards for some time anyway. So I ended their contract. And I gave them generous severance by the way.”

“Maybe independence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Have there been more assassination attempts since they left?” Just like Mai to cut to the chase. For some reason, it made Zuko want to smile despite the serious topic.

“There have been two in the last four months. But the guards are improving, truly. I would not put my family in their care if I didn’t trust them.”

Mai nodded. “All the same, you would tell someone, right? If you were concerned.”

Zuko blinked in surprise. “Who would I tell?”

Mai wanted to flip the table. Instead she took a breath. Pretend you’re explaining a really difficult concept to Tom Tom. “You could tell Aang, or Katara, or Toph, or Sokka, or Suki, or Ty Lee. You know, any of your friends,” she deadpanned. 

Zuko smiled, but it was bittersweet. “I’m trying to be better about reaching out. I acknowledge that in the past I haven’t been the best about that. But there are certain things that our friends can’t help me with. They all have their own responsibilities far away from Caldera City. This is something I need to figure out as the Fire Lord.”

Mai felt her heart twist. He didn’t hesitate to include her: ‘our friends.’ She forced herself to speak before she lost her nerve. “You could talk to me. I know things are awkward between us right now, but you’re one of my only childhood friends. I still care about you, Zuko. And I’m not volunteering to be your personal bodyguard or anything, but I don’t mind helping you vet the new recruits or spending some afternoons at the palace to help out.”

“That would be great!” Zuko accepted her offer without hesitation. He would always take whatever she was willing to give him. But then he remembered something she had said earlier. “Only if you’re sure that won’t interfere with your attempt to get over me. I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness.”

Mai narrowed her eyes, trying to determine if he was making fun of her. And then she remembered what she said only moments ago in the heat of their argument. She felt her cheeks get hot. “Oh! That was… a bit of an over-exaggeration. I didn’t really want to see the matchmaker either. My mom and aunt were pressuring me, and then Ty Lee got on board. I guess their enthusiasm rubbed off on me more than I realized.”

Zuko smirked, “Yeah, you’re so easy to enthuse.” 

Mai rolled her eyes and threw a dumpling at him. He had the good sense to duck and he came up laughing. 

“So,” he began. “If you wanna hear about my problems, maybe we could start with this festival.”

Mai nodded, “You can tell me all about it until this table is empty.”

Zuko chuckled and quickly launched into complaints about his overbooked schedule and his ridiculous advisors. Mai listened intently, and, in turn, she regaled him with the trials and tribulations of the floral industry. When they finally parted, Yue was well into her nightly journey. Mai rejected Zuko’s offer of a personal escort home, but he insisted she take at least one of his guards. “I know you don’t need the protection, but I can’t have the restaurant owner think I’m an inconsiderate date.” As the pair disappeared into the city streets, Zuko couldn’t help smiling. Maybe Mai didn’t reciprocate his feelings, but she was miraculously his friend again and that was enough. He ought to send the Wedding Weaver a generous tip.

Later, as Mai slid into bed, she thought about her conversation with Zuko. He was so much more open now compared to when they broke up. Had she overreacted in ending things with him? Was it… possible that he was still willing to try again? She didn’t have satisfactory answers to these questions yet, but she had gotten one of her best friends back. That had to count for something.

— — 

The First Annual Peace Extravaganza went on smoothly and historic treaties were agreed upon by the remaining three nations. However, nothing that happened was quite as historic as the Third Annual Peace Extravaganza, where the Fire Lord announced his engagement to his long-term girlfriend, Lady Mai. He shocked the world by declaring that their wedding would take place on the summer solstice, just three months away.

There was some talk about whether or not the two would be suitable rulers. In their not-so distant youth, the couple was said to have a tumultuous on-again and off-again affair. But she had been his steadfast companion for the past two years, and the royal council was happy to simply have the promise of a stronger bloodline. 

The Wedding Weaver smiled when she heard the news. Since that fateful day, she learned that she was not the reason for the royal couple’s first meeting. By the time they reached her door, their life lines had long since been plied together into a single thread. She took up her place at her loom and began to weave.

— — 

For Mai and Zuko, the time between their engagement and their wedding day passed in a blur. On top of their usual responsibilities of keeping a country running, they had to plan what was shaping up to be the largest party of the century. The festivities would take several days. 

The first day was their traditional betrothal ceremony, made awkward by the conspicuous absence of their fathers. The awkwardness only grew. Mai’s uncle, the Warden of the Boiling Rock, had offered to take the place of her father, and kept threatening to revoke his approval, making Zuko promise and swear repeatedly on all the Spirits that he would never hurt Mai emotionally or physically. Uncle Iroh, who had taken the place of Zuko’s own father, found the situation quite amusing. Iroh and Mai had to hold back their laughter and the Warden made Zuko get on his knees and repeat his vows.

The second day was the wedding ceremony itself and Mai’s coronation. Zuko would always remember how beautiful Mai looked in the traditional robes. To the crowd’s– and Zuko’s– surprise, Mai openly cried tears of joy as she said her vows. She accepted her position as Fire Lady earnestly, and even the Sages were pleased. The entire Nation celebrated that night, while Mai and Zuko slipped away to celebrate privately.

The third day was reserved entirely for opening gifts from whoever the council deemed noteworthy. King Kuei had gifted them a large and rather unsightly bear statue that Mai decided could live in one of the many basement sitting rooms. Chief Arnook presented them with heavy duty and finely embroidered Water Tribe tunics for their next visit. Zuko was grateful but slightly disappointed. (On their previous trips to the North, Mai had clung to his side like a burr, seeking his inner fire. Now she would likely burrow into her heavy robes instead.) Chief Hakoda, at his children’s recommendation, gave them matching whale tooth knives. These were privately both Mai and Zuko’s favorite gift of the celebration. 

Yet even after this event, they were left with an entire storeroom of gifts from citizens and well-wishers that would have to be dealt with eventually, which is where Mai and Zuko found themselves that evening. 

“I don’t even know where to start with all of this,” Zuko sighed. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but it’s not like we’re lacking. I wish people would save their money.”

Mai wrapped her arms around her husband. The festivities were making her much more sentimental than usual. “I agree, but think about it this way: they gifted us these things because they appreciate what you’ve done as their leader. It’s all well-deserved.”

Zuko smiled and returned her embrace, “They’re your gifts too. The people are excited to have a Fire Lady again, and I’m so grateful that it’s you. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Mai smiled and kissed him on the cheek, but she broke away from his hold after that. She wanted to make her way through at least some of this stuff before they left for their honeymoon after a few more days of public festivities. Everything had already been inspected for security purposes and the servants had created a separate section for gifts from people that they may have known personally. Mai made her way there, thinking it would be a good place to begin. Zuko followed and picked up a wrapped parcel with a familiar seal.

“No way,” he said, chuckling. “Mai, this is from our matchmaker!”

“Really?” she leaned into his side to read the attached note.

Dearest Fire Lord and Fire Lady,

From the moment I met the both of you, I could sense that you were destined to be a match. The string of fate between you is strong! By chance, I met you on the same day, and when the young Fire Lord spoke, it felt like he was describing you, Mai dear. It would be months before I learned that was perhaps truer than I could have guessed. Even though I did not bring you two together for the first time, I hope that the two of you are bound to stay. Please accept this token of my congratulations.

The Wedding Weaver

P.S. Zuko darling, thank you for the generous donations to my business.

Mai raised an eyebrow at ‘Zuko darling’. “You’ve been sending her money?”

“Well she got you back with me,” he replied. “I don’t regret a single copper piece!”

Mai laughed and unwrapped the parcel. Unsurprisingly, she gifted them a tapestry. It depicted the two of them standing side by side, surrounded by a border of their birth flowers. It was an impressive likeness considering that she had only seen them once and that she had rendered them in thread and not ink. 

“Woah!” Zuko ran his hand along the stitches. “Do you think my council would let me hang this up instead of a royal portrait?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so,” Mai replied, “but this is way nicer than the bear statue. We should put it somewhere visible.”

“We should.” Zuko pulled his wife into another embrace. “Do you believe in strings of fate?” he asked, although he suspected he knew the answer.

“No,” Mai answered, “but if such a thing existed, then I believe it would exist between us.”

Zuko buried his face in her hair and smiled. This was about as sappy as Mai got. “I think so too.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I love your work and enjoy your theories, so I thought I'd pop up and ask a question, my question being; why do people like yuu so much? They don't really have a point in the story and stuff-this kinda sounds like I hate yuu but I don't I'm just curious on why they're liked in the EN Fandom so I apologize if I used the wrong choice of words or anything, also why is yuu called 'the therapist'?

Rather than saying “the EN fandom likes Yuu”, I think it’s more accurate to say “the EN fandom likes the idea of Yuu”. Yuu is not a character in of themselves, but is an easy proxy for anyone and everyone to self-insert (be it the player themselves or an OC of theirs) because they are so loosely defined. This makes it very easy to “project” (ie insert whatever traits you want) onto a blank slate on an individual level and to be more personally invested in the events related to Yuu.

In an ironic way, Yuu not having a major impact on the story encourages fans to create their own alternate tellings and scenarios (typically substituting their own interpretation of Yuu or an OC into their role) to change things. This, in turn, heightens the attachment to Yuu because of the time and effort being devoted to this insertion. Over time, the feelings can grow stronger with each repetition, and it forms a sort of bond and all the affection that may come with it.

This is in part why the self-insert and OC culture of TWST is so strong; Yuu is practically designed to be projected onto. Even the name may be a reference to this—Yuu as in, “you”. They’re meant to be “you”, so many people become attached yo Yuu because that is essentially a representation of “themselves” in the world of TWST (especially when you consider that one’s imagination amplifies this relationship).

Brief aside for a second, I want to emphasize that this is a phenomenon that is specific to the EN fandom. The JP side also has Yuusonas and OCs, but they are often not as fleshed-out as the ones you’ll see from the EN fandom. Most of the time, the Yuusonas/OCs from JP are more generalized (less individualized looks, far less details in backstories, etc.) so that any onlooker can still insert as the Yuu. Meanwhile, the Yuusonas and OCs from the EN side tend to go into a LOT of detail about their creations. I believe this reflects a fundamental cultural difference between JP and EN (more specifically America/Canada): collectivism vs individualism, conforming to a group vs standing out from the crowd. (I discuss other differences I’ve observed between JP and EN in this post.)

The “Yuu is NRC’s therapist” line is a joke from the earliest days in the fandom; this was way before most of the main story had come out and no one knew how little of a role Yuu would actually play in the overall narrative and changing the characters’ lives, nor the fact that the OB boys would get treatment from an actual therapist (a detail revealed in book 6, I believe). The therapist role was likely derived mainly from something Crowley says in the prologue about how Yuu can be the one that teaches the boys how to get along with one another. However, the more main story content released, the more it became apparent that what Crowley said was just flat-out untrue. (I go into more detail about that in this post.) Nowadays, I think that the term is used more ironically.

[perdicinae-observer]

Title.

Urgh, how do people normally start this... Fancy greetings? Right, right. Hm...

Afternoon. (That was not fancy at all.)

This is Marshal Louis-Nicolas Davout writing. Or...well, typing.

I've decided to finally excuse myself from my moping session solitude and venture into unknown territory that is this strange platform. (Which I have been...observing from a distance.)

Seeing as my late colleagues have been up to some...shenanigans on this platform, I might as well find something to amuse myself with the ample time I'm given and do some...[*grimaces*]...socialising.

[*sigh*] I'm going to regret this...

So, to whoever may see this and care; you are free to send me your questions, letters, and queries regarding whichever subject you wish. I will be reading through and answering them accordingly when I am not busy tending to domestic matters around the painfully quiet estate.

However, do be mindful of the things you send. Respect goes both ways and I do not like to squabble. Unless it's against certain bastards.

Unsavoury comments regarding my hair will swiftly be ignored and used as fuel for the fireplace.

...Don't expect me to initiate interactions much. Sorry.

Regards,

L Davout.

——————————•

!! This is a joke RP account run by @mbenguin, a guy who is in no way shape or form a bona fide historian-- just really enthusiastic about balding dead nerds and French history! This is in no way meant to be accurate, analytical, or faithful 100% to reality despite being based on actual historical facts to a certain degree. This is a fictionalised parody that is meant to be in-character as possible to my interpretation of the man himself and I'm doing it for shits and giggles !!

Handy list of folks participating in this madness (whose exchanges will be tagged separately!)

Events (chronological) ──

[Current event summary : Davout is out on a group mission to retrieve Ney from an evil painting realm, so his raven companion Lenoir takes over answering letters in his absence.]

Birth of "Lenoir", Hell's cutest ink demon chick ✓

Local Old Man Turned Cutest Owl Ever, More On Page 2 ✗

Princess of Eckmühl(?) ✓

⇲ Swedish Home Invasion ✓

⇲ Catgirl Madness (ft. The Ass Boys) ✓

The Ginger Rescue Expedition ✗

⇲ Lenoir took over correspondence! ✗

Tags ──

#correspondance de Savigny-sur-Orge -- The marshal's replies to his letters- sent straight from his humble, lonely manor. Could both be written and spoken answers.

#dépêches personnelles -- General responses/exchanges (hilarity ensues)

#proclamations du Prince d'Eckmühl -- Important announcements/event messages

#représentations par le petit gardien -- Drawn visual representation by the marshal's mysterious companion...whose text will be in purple!

#galerie d'oiseaux -- Collection of bird images that 'ruffled his feathers.' With positive connotations.

Be careful when asking questions regarding Aimée or his family!

——————————•

[sailoryooons]

Carved | Masterlist | jjk (m)

→ Summary:  Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.

→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!Reader

→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

→ Type: Series (ten chapters)

→ Genre: Urban fantasy AU, dystopian, enemies to semi-lovers

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ faq 

→ Series Warnings: This series will feature multiple religious themes under the guise that there are multiple heavens, hells, and all religions are real. This is also a dark series - reader is enslaved and there will be graphic depictions of mistreatment. While some characters have good intentions in this series, everyone is ultimately selfish and very morally grey. Please do not read if you cannot take morally ambiguous characters. Dead dove, do not eat.

THIS SERIES IS ON A HIATUS AND IS BEING RE-WRITTEN

Preface: → The Carving ceremony makes the Carved what they are. You enter an angel, but you exit something else.

Chapter One: → Jungkook celebrates his birthday the only way he knows how: blood, death and a little bit of debauchery. Taehyung buys Jungkook the unlikeliest of gifts.

Chapter Two → Jungkook tries to discover how exactly a Carved seraphim has gone unnoticed. You try to adjust to your new owner - and worse, his father.

Chapter Three → Jungkook finally finds his way into your mind. Once there, he realizes he's made a grave mistake. You capitalize off learning Jungkook's long-kept secret.

Chapter Four → Things go awry at a high-profile Vaesen event and you gain information that will either help you or hurt you.

Extras:

Dominus → Taehyung is a demon that has needs. Some of those needs include feeding off of fear and fucking until he's numb. Thankfully, he knows how to do those things at the same time.

-

©2022 sailoryooons. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story. Works are only crossposted on AO3. Find my AO3 here.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

The Good Die Young

Masterlist Next Chapter Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+. Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bare in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this. Special thanks to the lovely Fern @desert-fern for proofreading this chapter for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marine Corps Boot Camp December 1941

Jake stood outside the small wooden barracks, his heart pounding ten to the dozen. He knew that as soon as he stepped through those doors that would be it. Up until now, everything had seemed like a dream, signing up to join the Marines, leaving his home, saying goodbye to his family, the train journey, all of it. Yet now standing in front of the barracks where he would spend the next six months training to be a Marine Jake suddenly realised that it was all true.

“Hey, you can go in there, you know. We don’t bite,” a jovial voice called from behind him. Jake spun abruptly on his heels, coming face to face with a tall, dark-haired man. He was dressed in the same green uniform that all the other men were wearing, a cigarette hanging from the right-hand side of his mouth and a toothy grin.

“Oh… yeah… I know,” Jake stuttered, raising his hand to greet his fellow soldier. “I'm Jake, Jake Seresin. I'm from Texas,” He added after a short pause. The other man eyed his hand for a second before taking it.

“I'm Frank, Frank Martin from New Jersey but the rest of the guys call me Harvard. You’ll learn soon enough that everyone around here’s got a nickname.” Frank swung his arm over Jake’s shoulder, smiling at him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

Jake followed Frank into the small barracks, inside both sides of the room were lined with pristinely made beds, three of which were occupied by other men. Frank stomped between the lines of beds, heading towards the small group. “Fellas, this here's Jake Seresin, he’s from Texas.”

“Aye it’s Cowboy,” one of the men hollered, rolling off the side of his bed to greet him, his hair was ruffled and he wore nothing but his trousers, feet bare against the wooden floor. He was short, much shorter than the others, he could only have been about 5’5 at a push.

“This here's Johnny Carter but everyone calls him Shorty.” In reply Johnny snapped his teeth together, grinning wickedly.

“That one there, that’s George Smith from Alabama,” the man waved from his cot, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading. “And that on over there, that’s Mary.” The men all sniggered and the other man groaned. “I’m not a damn virgin for Christ's sake.” He stood and approached Jake, “I’m Edward Hughes from Arkansas and I’m not a virgin.”

Jake smiled smugly before nodding, “Sure thing Mary.”

The others fell into a fit of laughter as Edward raised his middle finger to Jake. “You know what, I like this guy,” Johnny remarked.

“Just pick a bed and put your stuff away. There’s meant to be more guys joining us but for now, this is it.” Frank gestures to one of the beds and Jake dropped his kit bag onto the bed next to George’s. The man looked up from his book, giving him a curt nod. Sitting down, a long sigh escaped from Jake’s lips, running his hand through his once neat blond hair. So this was it, these were the guys he would be spending the next six months training with. These were the men he would be going to war with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guadalcanal - August 1942

“God! I can't wait to get out of this fucking tin,” Edward groaned, slumping down on the bench next to Jake as the boat rocked him into him. Jake raised his arm, supporting the boy as he took his seat.

“Don’t worry.” George grinned, “You’ll be off here soon enough and in the tropical paradise of Guadalcanal.” The table erupted with laughter.

“Yeah, I'm sure all those naked native girls will be waiting for us on the beach with coconuts.” Frank chided, shaking his head at the absurdity of the other men's statements. “We’re at war, not on a damn vacation.”

“Alright Sergeant Harvard.” Johnny joked, saluting Frank as he took his seat.

“Hey Harvard, you hear anything more from the higher-ups?” Jake asked, peeling the orange that had been passed to him by George.

“I don’t know, Cowboy. Why are you desperate for some action?”

“No Sir,” Jake laughed and the table fell into a comfortable silence as the men enjoyed their oranges.

“LET'S GO, BOYS! EVERYBODY ON DECK! MOVE MOVE MOVE! WE LAND IN 5 MINUTES.” Their CO shouted, clapping his hands loudly causing all the men in the cafeteria to stand, grabbing their jackets and running for their helmets and weapons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The climb down from the ship was treacherous, the rope ladder swung back and forth off the metal boat as shells exploded in the water around them. Jake swung around like a rag doll, the straps of his Browning machine gun pulling him backwards off of the ladder. The waves lashed against the side of the boat, spraying upwards towards the defending Marines. If they didn’t feel seasick before, they certainly did now, Jake thought as he set his feet down onto the landing craft. The journey to the shore wasn’t any better, men vomited on their own boots, and waves washed over the sides of the boat, soaking the Marines before they even set foot on Guadalcanal beach. Jake had never been especially religious but he began mumbling the Lord's prayer under his breath, his fingers running over the cross his mother had given him that hung around his neck.

As the boat hit the beach and the door dropped, the men began to file onto the beach weapons raised. The sight before them was something they had never imagined. The beach was lined with other US marines, all waving to them as they sat relaxing against the palm trees. Jake let out a hearty laugh, turning to George, who was standing beside him, he grinned back at Jake as they began to make their way up the beach to greet the other soldiers.

“Well, that sure wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” Johnny grinned, throwing himself gratefully onto the sand. Jake had to agree throughout all their training they had been prepared to face much worse on Guadalcanal beach. It was a pleasant relief for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night had fallen quickly, deep indigo covering the sky as everything fell into darkness. Jake groaned uncontrollably, his back sore from carrying his machine gun and the wall of his foxhole was unnecessarily hard.

“Quite wriggling,” George moaned, shoving Jake hard in the ribs.

Jake sighed, settling back down. His eyes kept trying to drift close but the painful feeling spreading through his back caused him to jolt awake. The sounds of explosions out to sea as the Navy took a battering from the Japanese fleet also didn’t help the situation.

“It’s like the fucking Fourth of July out there.” George huffed again, bright blue eyes the only part of him visible in the darkness. Jake hummed in agreement. It was the most magnificent and terrifying display of firepower that Jake had ever witnessed. A bright light cast its glow across the men startled them all. George began loading the 30 caliber ammunition methodically, while Jake aimed the Browning machine gun towards the light, just like they had every day at boot camp.

Shadows appeared through the jungle, nearing the river that separates them from the enemy. Around them mortar rounds and gunfire erupted. Jake squeezed the trigger over and over, releasing short rounds of bullets as George fed them into the machine gun. Everything happened in a blur; the flashes of the gunfire, the screams and grunts of dying falling on deafened ears that rung from explosions, as they tumbled to the ground blind from the muzzle flashes of their enemies.. Jake had never felt fear like this. His heart pounded like a caged bird inside his chest, desperate to break out of his rib cage, his throat tight as if being strangled by some invisible force.

By morning the devastation was evident, bodies from both sides littered the beach where bullets had ripped through their bodies, leaving gruesome pockmarks. The smell of burnt flesh, sweet blood, and gun powder filled Jake’s nostrils, turning his stomach as bile began to rise at the back of his throat.

A few of the other Marines walked between the bodies, looting them for anything they could get their hands on. Jake couldn’t bear it, turning away from the wretched scene and moving back to his foxhole. He slumped back inside, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. George sat beside him, performing a similar motion. Both men watched each other carefully, similar expressions gracing both their faces. This was it. This was the war they had been waiting for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where the fuck is the Navy?” Edward asked, throwing his arms towards the empty sea.

“Gone,” Frank replied, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips, “along with all our food, medical supplies and extra ammo. The Japs sank the lot.” All the men on the beach went silent, staring out into the devastation. Planks of wood and debris could be seen floating towards the shore, accompanied by bodies of the ship's crew.

“We move out in five,” their CO called, walking quickly between the men.

“Guess we’re on our own now boys,” Jake chimed in, slinging the machine gun over his shoulders and balancing his hands across either side of it. The others nodded, grabbing their gear and falling into formation for the march off of the beach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jake sighed once again as the Santa hat fell over his eyes. So much for being home for Christmas. Everyone on the beach was jovial, hymns played softly from the record player in battalion HQ, and there was a football game happening on the beach with a coconut. All in all, you could almost say that people were happy, content. Jake was sitting across from George scribbling on a crumpled piece of paper, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

“Hey, what ya writing?” Jake asked, shuffling closer to his friend.

“Just a letter to Florence,” George replied, unphased by the sudden attention he had gained from the men surrounding him.

“She sure is a looker George,” Jake smiled, thinking of the picture of Florence between his fingers before retiring it to George. Florence was George’s fiancée, a nurse who was currently stationed in England. George spoke of her often and Jake had grown to feel like he’d known her his whole life.

“Are you telling her how handsome I am?” Johnny asked, leaning backwards from his seat on a crate to catch a glimpse of the letter.

“No, you’re ugly and short. She wouldn’t want you.” George grinned as Johnny flicked some sand in his direction.

“So tell us then. Out of all the guys, who do you think she’d pick? Other than you.” Johnny cocked his eyebrow challenging him.

George sighed, “I don’t know. I’d like to think she wouldn’t pick any of you idiots but I guess Frank, he’s not so ugly.”

“Get in line George, I’ve got plenty of women after me.” Frank joked, the cigar twitching as his lips formed a smile. A small chorus of protest followed as the other men took offence but it was all in jest.

“GET YOUR GEAR! WE’RE MOVING OUT!” An officer's voice bellowed from behind the group of Marines.

“Thank Christ,” Frank spoke up, “We’re finally leaving this shithole.” Cheers erupted amongst them as everyone hurried to grab their belongings. And so it was they were leaving Guadalcanal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @flyboyjake @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @roostette @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @shadowsintheknight @bcon24 @genius2050

[twogyuu]

We Were Destined To Fall (But I’ll Catch You) [Masterlist]

Pairing: Jeonghan x fem!reader, Seokmin x fem!reader

Featuring: Seokjin, Joshua

Synopsis: In which Yoon Jeonghan traded the fate of humanity for your love.

Genre: Angst, betrayal, greed, hint of fluff, greek myth!au, reincarnation, modern dystopia, historical, time jump/travel(?), one-sided pining/jealousy/implied love triangle (w/Seokmin), bestfriend!seokmin, fallen angel!jeonghan, sinner!reader, blacksmith!seokjin,  angel!joshua

Warnings: PG-13, may contain smut (pending), additional warnings specified per chapter. Contains inaccurate representations of history and time.

Disclaimer: Though the intent of this drabble series is not meant to be religious, there are religious references (e.g. angels, heaven vs hell, devil, Greek mythology, mentions of multiple deities rather than one). They are not accurate nor do they necessarily represent mine or SVT's beliefs. All religions are welcomed here.

A/N: Important notes for this series under the cut!

The intent and structure of this series is meant to be unchronological. If the timeline and there seems to be a lot of holes doesn't make sense - good! That's the point. We’ll be skipping between past and present. As the series goes along the pieces will start falling together - promise.

The point in time in which each chapter takes place will be labeled accordingly (e.g. 300 BC vs present day). The chapters labeled "present" refer to the a current timeline revolving around the implied problem in the original drabble!

This au is completely fictional. Fantastical historical, if you will? That said, major events mentioned here are very similar to/inspired by the ones in world history! Present day is a modern dystopia: medieval meets technologically advanced? 😬

This is a drabble series! The chapters are meant to be short (1K-ish or less).

Though the idea came from Jeonghan's character(?) in the HOT MV, the plot was inspired by a multitude of Greek myths, namely Pandora's Box and Icarus and Daedulus.

Updates will be irregular to say the least (I have two ongoing series, one in the works, and drabbles for previous works to finish) . . . I'm publishing this on a whim since I have so many ideas bursting for this series, I couldn't keep it all to myself! I apologize if there are long periods without updates. Thank you be patient with me and waiting to see this unfold.

That said, taglists are the best way to stay updated! Please send an ask if you're interested in being a part of it. This is the best way to keep track of them. DMs and comments are easily lost. ​

original drabble

prologue [present.]

one [1584 B.C.]

two | [present.]

three | [1769 A.D.]

four | [1572 A.D.]

five | [present.]

six| [1213 B.C.]

seven | [1923 A.D]

eight (1/2) | [1500 B.C]

eight (2/2) | [1500 B.C.]

nine | [present.]

ten | [1927, Paris]

eleven | [present]

twelve | interlude

thirteen (2/2) | [present: seokmin's pov]

other:

bonus i: to give you the stars

[additional chapters TBD. Chapter title/order subject to change.]

[theacewithmace]

so i saw the new Link Click PV and wanted to know if the shot of the flowers meant something; idk anything about flower symbolism so idk how accurate these are since i Googled them but thought i'd share:

"White roses are traditionally associated with marriages and new beginnings, but their quiet beauty has also made them a gesture of remembrance. Suited to reverent occasions, the white rose is a fitting way to honor a friend or loved one in recognition of a new beginning or a farewell. Their pure color conveys respect, pays homage to new starts, and expresses hope for the future. When the occasion calls for reverence a bouquet of white roses is a perfect way to say, 'I’m thinking of you.'" X

so the white roses are essentially just a respectful choice for a funeral and (assuming the funeral is for Lu Guang) to appreciate and honor him.

as for the yellow flower Cheng Xiaoshi brings, it took me a while to figure out what it was since i never touch grass, but i think it's a chrysanthemum.

in general, chrysanthemums can be "a symbol of happiness, [...] optimism, and hope." X

"In Chinese culture, the chrysanthemum relates to long life and good fortune. Therefore, people often bring these flowers to events like baby showers and birthday celebrations." X

obviously the funeral isn't meant to be celebratory, but it's clear Cheng Xiaoshi places it for Lu Guang in hopes of giving him luck and a good/long life (please let this be foreshadowing Lu Guang isn't actually dead).

there's also this:

"Abundance and Wealth – During Imperial China, chrysanthemums were only grown by the aristocrats and the nobility and were forbidden to the common people." X

which i'm pretty sure means nothing but i heard some mention how the funeral looked too expensive for Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling to afford so idk i just felt like tossing that in.

and then the last part that made me cry :’)

"Yellow chrysanthemums symbolize neglected love. In older texts, it’s described as a representation of a heart left to desolation or scorned love." X

[flightsoffandom]

Hi I was wondering could you do one for the moon boys.

Fem reader is from another universe as spider woman. The comic verse in which a war started by Ultron (what if) had nearly wiped out the entire planet. She and the Moon Knight from her planet were lovers. She learned the ancient magic from Stephen and the books, she isnt as strong but she still trains. The war lasted years, what devasted her was when Moon Knight was taken and tortured alive due to his regenerative abilities that Konshu gave Marc peace after being stuck for years. In the end asked to be his Avatar until the end.

When the war ended because the watcher helped, he had sent her to this universe (MCU) where she had to learn to live again.

It was Jake Lockley who first helped her under the order of the Moon God. Before he began to help her on his own accord. She was traumatized. It isn't until a year later does she begin to be a hero again helping Jake and being Spider Woman again.

As time passed she meets Marc after he had left his wife and they had become close friends. She confided in him the horrors of her past, often she felt like an intruder. Often shed mention the differences in their worlds.

After the death of their mother did she accidentally meet Steven. Not wanting to lie she told him the truth of her identity and other universe saying they were friends in her world before it was destroyed. She was open about holding more secrets she wasn't aloud to tell. She fell in love all over again. He wasn't her Moon Knight, he was his own being a quirky one at that.

After the events of the egyptian ammit, (Y/N) confess her feelings as she will be going to New York to help Peter Parker with his loneliness.

Wether or not they end up together or not is up to you. (Also, the (y/n) from this world had died the night she was supposed to get her powers.)

(Y/N) is a tiny bit jealous of the badass that is Layla. The things she heard about her from him wow. That and she feels like an outsider.

First of all, thank you anon for sending this to me. I was so excited when I saw it. This is my first ever request so I really hope you like it. It will be in multiple parts (6 or 7 perhaps?) I actually finished writing this the day after you sent the request, but I wanted to write some more and then edit it before I put it out. I am really excited about this because it is like putting a puzzle together and I fucking love puzzles. Please, please let me know how you like it. Thank you. <3

Life As You Knew It

Pairs: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader, Steven Grant x Fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader,

Words: 5667

Summary: Being Spider-Woman was fun. Then you ran into a white-clad superhero and then your life changed.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, dying, main character death (But multiverse so), angst? trauma. POV switches all over the place because I think it helps tell the story. Sexual references but no smut. Not an accurate representation of DID, basing it off the show's depiction.

Notes: Female reader, as per Anon's request, Spider-Woman!Reader. This chapter takes place in the 'What If' Ultron Won verse. Other Chapters will take place in the MCU. As per warnings, POV switches all over the place. Hopefully, they aren't too confusing. Things shown like this ‘Words. Word word.’ are meant to be the boys talking to each other internally.

Life As You Know It - Part 1* - Part 2 - Part 3  - Part 4 - Part 5

You had met Marc by accident, well technically you met Moon Knight by accident. You had been swinging while doing some patrols when you came across a guy in a bright white cape beating the shit out of people. Not in your city. So you dropped, kicking the caped man in the back. The man was pushed forward, and he growled at you. When the caped man spun around, he went to punch you and you sighed, shooting a web at him quickly to attach him to the wall, "Did anyone ever tell you it's not nice to hit a girl?" The man hissed and fought against the webs, so you just shot another one at him to secure him in place.

You bent down and looked at the beaten man on the ground. Even though their faces were horribly disfigured, you recognize them by a tattoo on their necks. Part of a New York gang, and not one of the nicer ones. One of the gangs that did some really fucked up shit. So you webbed them to the ground just in case they had enough energy to run. You look at the man you webbed to the wall who is still struggling in your web. You finally got a better look at his costume. Mostly white, reflective, with crescent moons scattered over it. You tilt your head, "Not very sneaky to be wearing all white. Should go for something like this." You motioned down to your outfit, various shades of purple with a hint of pink and blue. You had based it on the Brazilian pinkbloom tarantula. 

The man fought and growled, "I didn't pick the armor." You hum softly, "You have an outfit designer or something? Are you famous? Should I know you?" The man's white glowing eyes looked at you, "You talk too much." You huff and cross your arms, "Wow. Rude. Well, then it takes five hours for my webs to stop working. So if you're gonna be like that, I will just call the police to pick up these idiots and you can sort it out yourself." The man froze, "Five hours?" You nod very matter-of-factly. He sighs, exhausted and annoyed, "I am Moon Knight." You nod slowly, "That's not bad, I'm just Spider-Woman… Pretty on the nose, right?" You touch your masked nose and laugh. And you swear you saw his completely white eyes roll. You move over to Moon Knight and start removing the webs with your fingers. He watches you, "How did you do that?" You chuckle, "Spiders don't stick to their webs." You ball up the webs and throw them into a nearby trash can, making it in without looking. 

Moon Knight watches you and then you get a call in from your earpiece, a suspected break-in a few blocks away. You turn your back towards the man. He takes this chance to try to hit you. Your spider-sense warns you, though, so you whip around and grab his balled-up fist, stopping it right in place. You glare at him as Moon Knight looks at you in shock. You shake your hand, "I tried to be nice." You grasp his fist tighter and then easily flip him over your head, slamming him back onto the ground. You hear him audibly groan. Your earpiece notifies you again and you hiss, "Shit." You leave Moon Knight on the ground and jump onto the wall, walking up it sideways as you call over your shoulder, "Bye Moon Dude."

  Marc lay on his back, staring at you as you walked away. The two other men in his head wouldn't shut up about you. Steven thought you were hilarious, and he wanted to talk to you. Jake was obsessed with how strong you were and the way the purple fabric of your suit clung to your ass and breasts. Marc just groaned and just laid there, waiting for the suit to heal him while he tried to figure out why his own thoughts wouldn't stop going back to you.

After that, you two kept running into each other over and over. Marc wanted to be annoyed about it. He really did. But he couldn't be annoyed at you. You were talkative and funny and extremely helpful. Khonshu even mentioned on multiple occasions that maybe he should have asked you to be his avatar instead. Your meetings all came to a peek one night when Marc found himself outnumbered. He was about to let Jake out.

You dropped out of nowhere and webbed up all the criminals so they were more manageable. Graceful was the only way Marc could describe you. Moves all seemed to flow together, with no jumbling, no slip-ups. You looked down at Marc, "You alright friend?" He nodded, and you held a hand out for him. He took it and you lifted him to his feet like he weighs nothing. Marc saw Khonshu appear and watched him. You, however, were staring and the giant bird as well. Khonshu tilted his head at you, "You can sense me… How curious." You laugh as you stare at him, "Look at the giant chicken." Marc stops, shocked, "You can actually see him?" You look back at Marc and nod, "Yeah, he's got moons on him like you do. He the one who made you look like a walking target?" Marc chuckles and nods. 

Khonshu growls at you, a monstrous sound, "Be mindful puny bug. I am the god of the moon." You tilt your head, "I'm not a bug? Shouldn't a god know that?" Khonshu slams his scepter down on the ground, "All humans are bugs to the likes of me." You laugh, webbing yourself up to stand, perfectly balanced on the top of his scepter, "Actually, you're wrong." Khonshu tries to shake you off his staff, but your spider grip keeps you right in place. You laugh again, "I'm an arachnid, you silly skeletal chicken. Arachnids are not insects and thus are not bugs."

  Khonshu was rather annoyed with you at this point, tempted to kill you, but he knew he couldn't. You have done no wrong. You have even protected his avatar on multiple occasions. So he conceded, "Alright little arachnid, away with you." You giggle and do a backflip off his scepter, landing perfectly on your feet, "And who says you can't teach an old god new tricks?"

  Marc can't stop himself from laughing at this, much to Khonshu's annoyance. Steven wanted out. He wanted to laugh and joke with you, so he put himself into a nearby reflective street sign to try to convince Marc to switch, ‘Marc, please. I think it's time. We can even show her Jake too, so it's all out in the open.’ When Marc looked to where Steven stood, he shook his head. But before he could respond to Steven, he noticed you. The eyes on your suit were trained on where Steven's reflection was at. The white fabric of your eyes kept twitching, and you even went to rub them out with your hands. 

Marc stopped, "What's wrong?" You laugh it off, waving him off, "It's nothing. Sometimes I see weird things. Think it's just my spider-sense acting up." You kept rubbing your eyes, unable to get Steven's reflection out of your head. So despite what Marc had said moments ago, he decided to reveal it to you, "He is there. You're not seeing things." You look at Marc now, eyes wide and confused, "What? But that man is different from you. He looks like you, sure… But he isn't you. I have seen him before sometimes when we are fighting… And another one… But it's just because I'm tired. I mean, their mouths move, but I can't hear them. So it's just in my head." You rub your eyes again. 

Marc takes a step toward you, "He is real. That's Steven, and the other one you're referring to is Jake." You stop rubbing your eyes and look at him, "Then who are you?" And Marc conceded, "I am Marc Spector." You gasp, realizing that he just gave away his secret identity. Marc knew what he was doing, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Marc didn't expect you to respond the way you did. You rip off your mask, sticking it to your hip so you don't lose it. Revealing your face to him, something Marc hadn't done for you. 

Marc stared at your beautiful face, hair all tangled from being trapped in a mask for hours. Your features were better than he had imagined them. Steven and Jake had to agree as well. You stepped closer to them, "So… You have two other people living inside you." Marc nods slowly, unsure of your reaction. You then break out into the most amazing smile he has ever seen, "You're a three for one special? How exciting!" You looked genuinely excited, not scared of Marc or mad at him. You didn't even look at him like he was broken, you looked at him like he was special, unique in your eyes. Marc's heart started thudding in his chest, and before he could do something he would regret, he let Steven take over.

Steven popped out, the Moon Knight outfit being switched out for his Mr. Knight suit. Your eyes got wider, "You all have different suits?" You practically squealed. Steven got all doe-eyed and blushy under his mask, "Hiya." He waved shyly at you. He had been listening to your fun banter for months, thinking of comebacks or other funny things to add, but now he was tongue-tied. You clapped your hands, "You have different suits, so do you have different superhero names?" Steven gave a small nod, "Sortof. I'm Mr. Knight. Marc and Jake are Moon Knight." You tapped a finger on your chin, "We will have to fix that. What's Jake's costume look like?" Steven willingly gave up control to Jake, knowing deep down he would have more time with you later.

Jake came out, Mr. Knight's suit being switched out for his. It was similar to Marc's, but it had more black on his body, better for blending into the shadows. Jake put his hands out to the side, showing himself off. You hum sweetly, "Moon Pie?" Jake groans loudly, "Like the food? No." You huff and cross your arms, going back to thinking. You pace back and forth and Jake can't help but stare at your ass in your suit. You try out another, "Mr. Moon?" Before Jake can respond, you shake your head, "Nope… Not that one." You pace again and then exclaim, "Moon Boss? That's it. That's my final offer." Jake lets a deep laugh come out of his chest, "Alright. I'll take that one. Daddy Long Legs." Jake teases you. You try to look mad, but you can't hold it. You burst out laughing happily, crinkling your eyes in such an exquisite fashion, "I love it." Jake smirks under his mask, "Alright legs, Marc wants back out now." You smile and wave at Jake as he gives the body back to Marc.

Marc comes back out, seeing you still smiling at him. Your smile falters a bit, "Does it hurt?" Marc shakes his head, "Not usually. It used to before we got along. Sometimes still does if it's forced." You nod softly, "Sorry if I… You know… Caused them to come out and hurt you." You look a bit nervous. Your smiley, radiant look from earlier has gone, and Marc wants it back. So he shakes his head again, "Not at all. They wanted to meet you for a long time. So we all agreed on the switch." You nod slowly and then smile again, "Steven and Jake wanted to meet me?" You pointed at yourself, completely baffled that anyone would want to meet you. Marc nods eagerly, "Yeah, they wouldn't shut up about you since the first time we met. I couldn't stop thinking about you, either." Marc stops, realizing what he just admitted. 

Marc was never this open. Why was he being this open with you right now? You chuckle, "Liked it when I laid you out then? You into that kind of thing?" You tease him, smiling slyly. And Marc does something surprising, even to himself. He wills his mask down, revealing his face to you, "Maybe a little." He teases back. You stop, mouth opens slightly as you stare at his face. And then the words fall from your lips, "God, you're fucking hot." And just like that, Marc finds himself pushing you back against a wall, kissing you hard and rough. You kiss him back, grabbing at his suit. You pull away and Marc wonders if maybe he was moving too fast. For the first time in a long time, Marc second-guessed himself. Then he saw your cocky smile, "My name is, [Y/N]." Then Marc sees it, the playful twinkle in your lust-filled eyes as you add, "Wanted you to know so you can moan it out for me in a few minutes." And with that, he presses his body back against you. Your lives become connected from that night on.

The four of you were happy for years. Living life together was amazing. You dated like a non-superhero couple. Marc took you out on dates often, anywhere he could. Dinner, dancing, and movies. Steven always took you to museums which you love. You both made jokes about the displays and he would tell you everything he knew about the items and history. Jake liked just walking around town with you, stumbling onto someplace fun like a bar or a carnival. After officially dating for a year or so, you even modified your suit. Putting three pearl white crescent moons along your collar, one for each of them. You did also add a white hood that matched Moon Knight's, but you pretended it was something you had been thinking about before you met them. It was a lie. They didn't believe you, but they still loved it. It was happy, it was fun. You all fought crime together. You helped them protect the travels of the night. You even think Khonshu started taking a liking to you. It was your version of perfection. Your version of a happy life.

That was until the day everything went downhill. You were laying back on the couch, your legs draped over Marc's lap. He was playfully running his fingers up and down your thighs, making you giggle. And then you felt it. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up almost painfully. You jumped off the couch, "Summon the suit." You looked around, not sure what was wrong, but your instincts were ablaze, burning you into a hyper-focused state. Marc looked a bit confused, but he listened to you, the suit wrapping around him. Covering him in healing armor. You kept looking around, "Call Khonshu… Something is very wrong." Marc nodded and called to the god. You grabbed your suit and started putting it on. Khonshu appeared, "Something is amiss with this world." His tone was low and ominous. It made you feel worse. 

You looked up at the god, "Protect us, please. I don't know what's happening." You weren't normally so formal with the god. Luckily, Khonshu put a protective bubble over you both. You wrapped your arms around your head and closed your eyes tight. Tring to focus, trying to figure out what is going on. Your spider-sense isn't always as helpful as it sounded. It just told you something was about to happen but didn't always tell you what the thing was. Marc came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to comfort you. You sank into him, still scrambling to find out what was wrong. Then it hit you, "Oh no." And with that, an explosion went off. All the missiles around the world seemed to go off all at once. Khonshu's bubble kept you and your boys safe, but when the explosions stopped. You and Marc were left standing in a crater of what used to be your apartment.

You all had known about the Avengers. Hell, you were friends with a fair amount of them. Tony even gave you some new toys to fight crime with when he invented them. But you and the Moon Boys never bothered with them because they had everything under control. Keyword, HAD. They were dead, Ultron had taken over. Bombed the world and left whatever survivors scrambling to try to fix things. Khonshu gave you, Marc, Steven, and Jake the command of taking care of Ultron, and the four of you eagerly accepted, ready to fix this mess.

Years passed as you ran and fought and clawed for something, anything, that would correct the path that this world was put on. But nothing, all leads turned to dead ends. Most hints of human life, gone. You had run into Nat and Clint at one point, but being in a group that large made you too big of a target for the bots, so you stayed away from each other mostly.

Jake called out to you, "Hey legs, you alright?" You panted loudly and gave him a nod. You had both been running for hours. After the missiles, there weren't a lot of buildings for you to web to and swing from, and then, after years, the ones that were still partially standing started to crumble from the elements. The Ultron-bots were relentless. Jake looked at you, knowing you were lying. He expanded his cape and started to fly. You knew what he was doing. You both had done it before in fights. You shot a web up at Jake and it didn't stick like it normally did. He grabbed the strand, wrapping it around his hand tightly. And with that, Jake flew off, carrying you away from the evil robots for the moment. You caught your breath while he carried you away, "Thanks, Boss." Jake let out a soft chuckle, "Any time, legs." Flying you both off.

Jake landed you both somewhere safe for now. You immediately laid down on the dusty concrete. You would feel Jake's eyes on you. You looked at him and gave him a thumbs-up before your hand thumped onto the ground. You heard Jake leave the room. He tried to get out of your earshot but with super senses that would never happen.

  Jake cleaned off the reflective surfaces he could find. Wanting to have a meeting with Marc and Steven. The two other men appeared and Jake sighed, "We can't keep going like this… She is…" Jake stops, not wanting to say the rest out loud. Steven nods slowly, 'She is exhausted. I can't be the only one who has noticed she is slowing down.' Marc sighs, 'Well, no food and water will do that to a person. She can't keep up.' Jake nods along with the other two, "Her webs are failing." Jake shows his two reflections the web you shot earlier, easily falling out of his hand. Not a single strand of it stuck to him, "This was only maybe an hour ago." Both reflections freeze, watching as your once supernaturally strong web flutters to the ground. Marc put his head in his hand. Steven speaks up, 'If we can get her enough food and water that should help right? Yeah.' He answered his own question before mumbling, 'She will be good as new… She has to be…' 

All three men were in a state of extreme panicking. The only difference was how they showed it. Steven wrung his hands in his reflection, going over every possible way to make you better. Marc was bordering on a panic attack, blaming himself even though there was literally no way this was even remotely his fault. Jake wanted to fight something, fight anything, so he punched the already crumbling wall. He froze when he heard your voice, "Did anyone ever tell you it's rude to talk about people behind their back?" You gave a weak laugh, still their silly talkative mess of a woman, even with the world burning around you. Jake had to give up control and Marc wasn't ready to front either, so it fell to Steven.

Steven came out. Moon Boss's, as you still lovingly called him, suit changing into Mr. Knight's. You smiled sweetly at him, "What's wrong?" None of the four of you bothered with masks anymore. What was the point when everyone was dead? Steven could see the exhaustion on your face, the way your eyes had ever-darkening circles under them, your cheeks sinking in. But you still smiled. Smiled for them. Steven shook his head, "Nothing love… Nothing at all." He lied. He was a terrible liar. Why had Jake and Marc made him front for this? You chuckled and shook your head, "You're a poor liar, Grant." Steven nods all too quickly. You gently grab his hand, "Dance with me."

Steven took your hands in his, "Marc and Jake are much better dancers than I am." You lean up and kiss him. Steven kissed you back. His kisses were always soft, but they were even softer this time because he was afraid of hurting you. You swayed with him, "I want to dance with you right now." Steven swayed with you, watching your beautiful face. He loved you, Marc loved you, Jake loved you. The entire system loved you so much. He wanted to tell you, wanted to say it out loud again, like all of them had done hundreds of times. But before he could, your body tensed, and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Then Steven saw something new that never happened when your spider-sense kicked in before your nose started to bleed. 

  You looked around, trying to figure out what your sense was telling you. But it was harder to understand than ever before. Being hungry, dehydrated, and tired made it so much harder to follow. You didn't care about the blood running down your face, but Steven did. He tried to brush it away. It didn't stop. Steven was so distracted by you that he didn't notice when a portal opened behind him. Ultron stepped out and snatched him, "I would like to summon your god." Ultron glares down at Steven. You went to fight the giant metal man, but he had all the Infinity Stones now. You were no match even at your strongest and you were nowhere near your strongest. 

Ultron grabbed you with the power of one stone, flinging you back against the wall. You saw as Marc quickly came to the front, suit changing to his Moon Knight one, "Leave her out of this. Take me and let her live." Ultron scoffed, "Me killing her now would have been a mercy. She will rot away soon." Ultron stepped back through the portal he created. You summoned all your remaining strength and shot a web out to Marc, trying to grab him back. Your web, however, fell flat, not even making it to him, and then it blew away, not sticking to anything. You started to cry desperately and in pain. Ultron laughed at your struggle, "How pathetic." Marc met your eyes, "It's okay. We will be okay, [Y/N]" And with that, Ultron closed the portal.

You sat there in a heap, weeping until your tears turned to blood. No more water left in your body to cry. You kept crying, unable to stop yourself and unable to do anything else with how weak you were. Until you eventually collapsed on the floor, falling unconscious.

When you woke up, you only felt a fraction better. You blinked the blood out of your eyes and looked around. Khonshu sat over to the side, waiting for you to awaken. You jumped up, falling again because you still didn't have any of your strength back. Khonshu watched you, "Careful little arachnid. My healing may have helped you not die, but I can not do much else when you are not my Avatar." You growl and scream, "Then make me your fucking avatar… I have to save them." Khonshu shook his head, "That will kill them. My suit is the only thing keeping them alive right now." You stand up on unstable legs, "Then take me to them. Let me kill that metal bastard." Your body is shaky, but you didn't care. You wanted them back. 

Khonshu shook his head at you again, "Then you would die, little spider. And that would kill them in return." You cry again, sadness and anger mixing in your blood, "Then what the fuck is the point of being a god?" You spat out at him through tears. Khonshu stood up, towering over you, "Something much bigger than me is pulling the strings." You glare up at him, "Then why revive me at all… What is the point if I can't do anything to stop this?" Khonshu holds out his hand for you, "There is still one last hope, one last chance." You reluctantly take his hand. And with that, your world spins and swirls around you. When it stops, you end up falling to the ground, unable to hold yourself up. Khonshu points with his scepter, "He can offer you a chance." 

You wipe your face, and you follow to where he pointed, seeing a man in a cloak. Dr. Strange, but he was long dead in this world. Khonshu looks down at you yet again, "He is not of your world. But he may be able to help. To teach you something." You nod, struggling to get back on your feet. Khonshu surprisingly helps you up, "Keep in mind, though, little arachnid. This world is already quite lost. If you do not succeed, it is not your fault." You scoff at that and then Khonshu disappears. 

You trudge up to Dr. Strange when he turns around he looks different, almost evil. He looks you up and down, "You're new." You nod softly, "You're not from this world, right? But if you're anything like the Strange of this world. You know magic. I need you to teach me." Dr. Strange looks you over, the shadows of monsters dancing behind him, "Alright. We have little time. The Watcher is already assembling people to try and fix this world." You didn't care who The Watcher was at the moment or who he was assembling. You only cared about the loves of your life and getting them back, because lord knows what Ultron was doing to them.

Dr. Strange taught you, in the limited time he had. You weren't amazing at it, but as Strange put it, "You're learning quickly for someone who is dying." And you were dying, slowly. The exhaustion, starvation, dehydration, and heartbreak were all coming down around you. More often than not, you could open a portal with a sling ring but couldn't keep it open because you started coughing up blood. Dr. Strange's snake-like eyes took pity on you, but you made him keep teaching you so you could learn as much as possible. You had to get your boys back. You had to.

When The Watcher had placed everyone here for the saving the world plan, you took your leave to use this chance to find Marc, Steven, and Jake. You weren't a part of the plan, so you weren't fucking up anything they were trying to do by leaving. Dr. Strange had told you where you needed to go to find them. And as one last favor, Strange opened a portal for you to send you to your Moon Knights. You had a sling ring to get back when you had them.

Stepping into the room, you already smelled blood. Though you weren't sure if it was from the room or yourself. You kept moving, ignoring the ache in your bones and the hairs standing up on the back of your neck. You made your way through slowly, rooms full of discarded robotic puppets Ultron had no use for anymore. You kept pushing yourself. Just a bit further and you could see them again.

When you found the room, your whole body wanted to crumble, you wanted to collapse. Part of you knew what you were about to see and then another part of you didn't want to believe it. It's what your sense was trying to warn you about, but you ignored it. You saw Marc laying motionless in some kind of scientific-looking monstrosity. You inched closer, and the smell of blood became nauseating. Moon Knight's once pearlescent suit was now stained with various shades of red and brown. Blood in various stages of drying. Ultron had tried to extract Khonshu from them. Like the god would have been inside him. You started crying because you knew. 

You knew. But that didn't stop you from grabbing Marc's hand, pulling it to you and feeling it was still warm. That he hadn't been dead long. Maybe they would come back. They still had the suit on, after all, it should heal them. So you did the only thing you wanted to do. You climbed up onto the dissection table and tangled your fingers into their messy curls that were matted with blood. You curled into Marc's body, closing your eyes as you waited. Their blood soaking into your suit, soaking into your skin as you lay there. You stayed there until you felt his body go cold and even then you still refused to move.

At some point, even through your tears, you felt Khonshu appear in the room. You still couldn't bring yourself to move. Khonshu loomed over you, "It was not your fault, little spider." You choke out, "They will come back. They are still wearing your suit. You will heal them as long as they are in the suit." You close your eyes tighter, clinging tighter to Marc. But you feel the wind when Khonshu shakes his head, "This can not be undone… Those stones are too much for even a god to bring someone back from." You refuse to listen, refuse to believe him. He was a god, after all. It shouldn't matter the cause, Khonshu should be able to fix it. 

  Khonshu watched over you for a long time, not sure what would comfort the spider that got herself tangled up in his mission to protect the travelers of the night. He finally spoke, "They fought till the end. They wanted to remain my avatar." He just heard you cry harder. One of his bandaged hands covered you. You flinched away, pulling yourself closer to the corpse of your lover. Khonshu felt it, he felt your pain. Here you were, slowly wasting away, and you didn't care. You loved his three avatars so much you were willing to die right beside them. Khonshu had felt pain before. It wasn't new to him over his thousands of years on this plane. But this kind of pain, this kind of heartbreak, was new to him. The human emotion of it was almost overwhelming for him and yet there you lay, a tiny little human bearing it all by yourself. If this world wasn't so already broken, then he just might have taken advantage of your grief to make you his next avatar. But this world was doomed. Meant to end and Khonshu along with it. Khonshu could do one last thing for you, could pull one last string to give you a chance to start anew. So Khonshu left you be, for now.

Khonshu appeared before The Watcher, "I ask you, move one last soul from this world before it comes to an end." The Watcher looked down at the god, "I have already broken every rule I was meant to follow. You would have me break more?" Khonshu nods, waving his scepter to show a visual of you, "One last rule. Give her a chance in another universe where she could have a life again." The Watcher observed as you sobbed and clung to a man who was long gone. The Watcher sighed, "I will find her a place." Khonshu nods and then disappears, going back to you. He quietly waved his scepter over you, marking you so that the Khonshu in your new world would know that you were worth protecting. Then he plucked you up and sent you to The Watcher with another wave of his cane.

You dropped unexpectedly in front of the large-headed being. You clasp around on the ground for where Marc went. You scream loudly until your throat hurts, "What have you done?" The world looked like a mosaic here, making you dizzy. The Watcher peers down at you, "I am here to give you another chance at life." You growl, slamming your fists on the ground, "I don't want another life. I want my life. My perfect life before Ultron destroyed everything. I want my boyfriend's back." The Watcher nods, "I know… But the best I can do is send you to a universe where you died. Marc, Steven, and Jake are still there, but they don't know who you are. But you will be able to start anew." You collapse in on yourself, "What if I don't want to start 'anew'?" The Watcher shrugs, "I only offer a chance. What you do with it is up to you." And just like that, a door opened itself in front of you. Leading to what looked like an alleyway in New York. You didn't move. You weren't sure you could have even if you wanted to. And you definitely weren't sure you wanted to. But The Watcher had other plans. He pushed you through the door and suddenly you fell into a new universe, covered in your lover's blood and dying. Overwhelmed by everything, you fell unconscious.

Life As You Know It - Part 1* - Part 2 - Part 3  - Part 4 - Part 5

[skz-streamer]

Yes love?

Simptober Small Things You Do M-list

Pairing: Hyunjin (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive

Warnings: a lil baby bit suggestive ig

Notes: I WANT HYUNJIN >:((((((

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count - 547;)

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The room was steeped in a tranquil silence, save for the gentle rise and fall of your breaths. Hyunjin and you lay atop each other, both tired from the passionate events that had transpired just moments ago. It was in these quiet moments of afterglow that you cherished the most – the sense of closeness and intimacy that came from sharing your love so intimately.

With a soft sigh, Hyunjin stirred beneath you, his strong arms carefully lifting your body from his. He placed you gently by his side, and as he looked at your beautiful face, a warm smile played on his lips. The way you looked at him after moments like these always melted his heart, and he couldn't get enough of it.

His gaze settled on his favorite feature – your eyes. They were filled with a unique radiance, a look you reserved only for him. But what captivated him the most was the way he saw himself reflected in your eyes. It was as if you saw him as the sweetest thing on the whole planet, a side of him he thought no one else could see, but you. And that made it all the more precious.

His dark eyes, usually filled with playful mischief or determination, now held a different quality. They were soft, deep pools of chocolate brown, gazing at you with an intensity that was both sweet and loving. It was a side of him that he reserved just for you, a side that no one else would ever get to see, and that made it all the more special.

"Jinnie?" you whispered, your voice a tender melody in the hushed room.

He responded in kind, his voice low and affectionate, "Yes, love?"

With that simple exchange, you bared your heart to him, expressing what you felt in the depths of your being. "I love you," you confessed, your words carrying the weight of your emotions.

Hyunjin couldn't help but smile wider, his heart swelling with affection. He pulled you close, enfolding you in his arms, and the two of you became one. Skin to skin, it was as though nothing in the world could harm or hurt you. In this embrace, you felt safe and cherished, your love cocooning you from the outside world.

Hyunjin's fingers gently brushed away the tangled strands of your sweaty hair, exposing your neck, which he adored. It was his favorite place to be with you, where he felt closest to your heart and soul. He marveled at how pretty you looked, even in this disheveled state, and he couldn't help but think that you were his in every way possible.

In return, you held onto him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. It was moments like these that made you realize how fortunate you were to have Hyunjin by your side. In the quiet intimacy of your connection, you found a profound love that transcended words, a love that filled your heart and soul, making you feel complete in every sense.

As you lay together, intertwined and content, you knew that this was where you belonged – in the arms of the person who cherished you as the most beautiful thing in the world, a side of him that was reserved only for you.

————————————

Tags:  @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-jilee  @sungiesoonie  @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids @jinnie-ret @bbygrlhannie @rebecca-johnson-28  @turtledove824  @interstellarairwaves @yearofthetiger25 @minhos4thkitty @fiqire @backintomykpopphaseagain @liknws @tinyelfperson @aaasia111

[changbunnies]

If You Call Me, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?

♡ Word Count: 43.4k

♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past- that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.

♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written), past / referenced parental death (not described), self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)

♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here (and includes an update on where i've been) and if you're interested, you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.

It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.

While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.

Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t. And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.

So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity. As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.

At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable. And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.

That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.

It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.

You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life. You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.

However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events. You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.

You were so ignorantly optimistic.

When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature. You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.

“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve- Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking. The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.

“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”

You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why? Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.

You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy? You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.

But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time. You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable, before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.

Some days, you’d be lucky and were able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked. Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.

You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even- an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.

But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness. There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.

You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend. You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone.

You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had. All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control- your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.

You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.

It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.

There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way. You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however- because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.

You’d never been to a party- not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved. Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you, would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.

But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them. And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard- you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience. 

And it was fun, for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together. 

It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.

But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.

You suddenly became conscious of every little thing- the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.  

You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore- you wouldn’t let him. 

You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.

You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet- not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you. 

Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in before you could even hope to act rationally as you dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.

You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as you saw him,  in what likely appeared to be a drunk girl’s desperate dash for the bathroom to those settled around the steps. It was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through. 

You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right? It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. But you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together. 

With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue. 

But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?” 

“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you. “Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel.

Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn. 

“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil. Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case. 

But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong. You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” 

He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.

He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place. So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell. 

You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless. 

You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize takes the both of you by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” You hear the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange- he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him. He’s… intimidated? “Oh come on, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief. 

The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now. “Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit. Or anyone’s for that matter.” 

“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands. 

And that’s what Jae wants- he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be. You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it. 

You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged. He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass. A sigh of relief leaves you once Jae is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.

“Are you alright?” the stranger asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had. “Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what is evidently his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple. 

When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury- whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jae is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight. 

He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now. He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.

Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic- your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain. And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back. 

“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything- just to make sure Jae will leave you alone. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and- uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion- it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction. 

You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood. 

There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration- nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake. 

You decide to sit at his desk, deciding that is the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be- dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep. 

“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.” 

You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do- you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do. 

“Oh, no, I-” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me- got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”

You get it- you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with. There was either a time you considered it, when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying. 

“I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.” “Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I.. didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel? 

Like kindred spirits- two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets. 

“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he- well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape- like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it. 

“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good grades I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have- you know, for the most part anyways.”

There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now. 

You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today- he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters. 

He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are- someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person. 

He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen. “Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you-” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs. 

“I���m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together. 

“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.” 

You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again. 

“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers. 

You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon. 

You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines. You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap. 

It always occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again. You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came. 

Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you? 

It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on. A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place. 

And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you. 

The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because he was nice to you? That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo and only listened to you to be polite. 

God, you were spiraling- one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life again, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know- know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why? 

No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you. Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own of course, you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way, but now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it. 

You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan- what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness? 

He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that. And that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.

Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread. Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be. 

Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose- lately, he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay. 

“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him, that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though. 

You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing. 

You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking. The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here? 

Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended. 

Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here? Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay. 

You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him. 

He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him. 

Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you- shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh. “It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae- Chan. He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot to steady himself. “Wha- Who the fuck?” 

“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks. “You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’

Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth. “You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again, and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks- at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly. 

On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley. But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone- your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.

He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect. 

But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain. And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made, hated him most of all. 

You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves- the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.

Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.

He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry. Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? Why don’t I buy you a new coffee?” “Huh? Oh- you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond, not yet meeting his gaze. 

Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that- a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it.  “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly. You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his name and number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.

You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before. You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation you come across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping someone was completely different. Was he really that selfless? 

“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask after a moment, fully expecting a rejection. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious. Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of kindness is enough to make you emotional. 

“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do- he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before. You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it. 

“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.” “Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”  

You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his. You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact.

You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.  

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.

“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung, and… Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and- 

Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?

“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.

“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand- it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?” “Oh- yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.

You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity. “How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise.

The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it. “I uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”

Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting. “Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house again when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!” 

He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this. Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands.

“You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt. “N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” 

“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had- and you like that. Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.

Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will. 

Without even thinking about it, he ran- he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that. What Chan felt instead was.. Disgust. The thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull- and Chan would happily be the one to do that. 

And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized. The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, and instead offered your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.

Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick and angry. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it. Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better. 

It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive. 

Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts while he was in the shower- most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours. 

Hi Chan, it’s Y/N! 

Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it &lt;3

If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage

9:12 PM ✓

it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants

you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind

call me anytime you need

11:34 PM ✓

“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.” “Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin. 

“What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh. “Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking. “Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.” 

He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself. Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.” 

“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight. 

Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!

11:47pm ✓

i said i don’t mind

i’m here for you okay? 

11:48pm ✓

The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin. 

Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year. And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered. 

He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through. At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough. 

Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble. Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him. 

He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to. 

Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him. 

Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with, a homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is. 

When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness- that even though you miss or long for that period of time in your life, you accept that you cannot return to it, and look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what you had. You miss the joy you felt in those simpler times, the days where you were taken care of and pampered by your parents, where every meal was provided for you and you spent all of your free time worry free, watching your favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end. 

But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do? Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief. 

And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried. He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling. 

How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what-ifs and should-bes of his life.

There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier- like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either- he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.

He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there. Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding you that the hole in your heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels. 

Fuck it. 

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14am- not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders? No- better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment. 

The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill- he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries. He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in. 

His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them- very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it. He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it- the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled. 

Minho comforted him, of course- he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt- just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness. And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now- not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and still being built upon. 

But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again, he wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song or meal is. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to. 

Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets? He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight. 

You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently. 

After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards. 

“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you? He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.

“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer. There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history- why did that make him feel so warm inside? 

The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you. It was kind of like thinking aloud- like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind.

Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you. You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see. 

With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after. But then there came the next dilemma- getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him. 

“You could stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that-” “N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you clear your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean- I’ll stay.” 

Chan nods, standing up to go up to his room with you; you don’t need to be led there of course, you already know where it is, but Chan needs to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night. A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, uhm- let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he says with a slight smile before he departs, doing his best to close the door behind him despite how full his hands were. Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30am. Well, if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he’d rather lose it thinking about the fact that you’re upstairs in his bed right now than anything else.

How on earth were you supposed to sleep?

You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in. Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter!

You’re going insane, you think- you can’t take it. You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and- PLEASE BRAIN STOP.

You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of.. Cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it. 

He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him? 

And you think about the first time you saw him smile- really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you. You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.

Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, and every thing you learned about him, every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest. He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.

You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.

Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan- one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words. 

You learned a lot about them that day too- about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.) Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste. 

Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent. 

You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life. You loved how anytime someone praised him or had something positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them. 

You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was. And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to- a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child. 

He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough. 

You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way. 

And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence- Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area. Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit.

He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body. “It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforts you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?” 

You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it. The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too. 

You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that- he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that. 

But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough for your growing crush on him to make your heart beat out of control. 

Was he still awake? Chan and the others told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check? There was certainly no harm in it- if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, and try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go. 

Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom. It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space.

He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night. He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?” 

“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that. “Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.” 

He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms. “Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.” 

“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown. “...What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his. 

“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan- it was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know- should I go put him back?” 

“Oh no, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.” “I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers, who still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.

“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same question he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about. “Do you think about them a lot?”

Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting; he’s used to being asked what happened, how he feels, if there’s anything he needs.. He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a hesitant, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation. 

Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed. Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so. 

“I do,” he answers after a moment, surprising himself with how easily he was able to do so. It was a simple question, sure, but not for Chan- nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels.. Comfortable. And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it. 

He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up. You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you- an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him. 

The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself. He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even.

“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times. But you- you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are.

The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness. No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.

The hole in his chest never closes- even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls. He doesn’t want that with you- if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe? 

“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat. Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy. 

You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect and takes him entirely by surprise. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him. He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay. 

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go. “Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms. 

You stay like that for a long time- long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep. Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up. 

He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go. He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.

Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized. The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it. 

Did he deserve it? He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior. 

He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together. Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.” 

It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night; your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured. 

Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. His typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do. Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.) 

Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even. He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable- he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him. 

“Can you.. Send it to me? I- I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took. 

“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in, “You think she’d want it too?” “Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.) 

“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good. 

His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer and allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies. It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs. 

You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back. You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed, sitting on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular. 

Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you. 

In reality, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you- quite the contrary, actually. He was good- not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration. 

You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in. It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was. 

And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know? Sure, that impression helped sometimes, like with Jae who obviously wanted nothing to do with him, but he was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that? 

But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was- someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way. 

Sometimes you would wonder, though- is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy. You did your best to ensure he was, that you always returned whatever favor he gave you, by being a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough. 

You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did. He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him. 

You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him. You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to, that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, and that you would always listen and be there for him. 

Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something. “Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were. 

You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next. 

“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were. So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong. 

You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel. But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.” 

Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface. And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right. 

But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one, or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do, he was sure. But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked? 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared. “I- No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you. 

He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort. “I just.. You’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission. 

This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy. 

Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him. You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket. 

He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, Y/N, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but.. But I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.” You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.

From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple. 

Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day? There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that, the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all. 

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream. 

That’s what you were for him- hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.

There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper. All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life. 

Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between the groups; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?

They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan and his group of stupid ass friends. And anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons. 

From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit? Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional” fixer of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.

But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had. Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you. 

For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were. No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers. 

And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Whether you simply had no reason to, you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate; whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it. 

At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it. You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name. 

He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time- studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you? 

Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you. To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about shit like this.  

That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you- it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are. 

And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him. In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more was the words his friend spoke. 

“I knew it! You do like her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain. So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do; he treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him. 

You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that? He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day. 

And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all. 

And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get. 

When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does. 

Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised. 

You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with. 

It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it. 

Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that, but if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you. 

You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him. 

And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries. It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun. 

He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling has he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head. You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing. 

You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams. What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with. 

“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.” You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick his ass if Jae did anything to you tonight, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, fully expecting a reaction like that. 

“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on. Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone, especially not Chan. 

“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that? “He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?” 

“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with some extra help and a hell of a lot of overtime, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Come on, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"

You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you. 

“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better? You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.” 

Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!” 

…What?

Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you. 

“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? What would it mean for you?

“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. “If I did anything to you, Chan and his friends would find out about it, so I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.” 

You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys and they’d go after him with no hesitation. But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know. 

“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.

“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.

It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head. 

The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently. 

Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you. 

“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow. “What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight. 

“Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree. You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.

“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan. “What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment. 

The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands. He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself. 

He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor. That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right? 

Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw. 

“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him. You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill. 

“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.” “Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand. 

Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything. “There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined.

Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide. Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created. 

“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you. You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head. 

“Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him. He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily? He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that. 

“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can. “Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through on the other end, but can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words. 

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it. He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given.

“I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?” “Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let them know what's up so don’t worry about it, just take care of Y/N.” “Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you.

“Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off. “Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is. 

You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times. You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to- do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out. 

When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls off the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do. 

Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his head over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.

It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like? He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.  

He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him. 

Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot. 

Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good. You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax. 

He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him. Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you. 

To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this. You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him. 

He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable. You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you. 

And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours. It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.

You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore. 

It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again. 

He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now. 

His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I-" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it. 

"But I-" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm. It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again. 

You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response. You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process. 

Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context. And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself. 

You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be. 

And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words. When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay. 

However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation. His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.

Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other. But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor. 

And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well. He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others he lived with, barring Chan, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you. 

They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well. Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch. 

Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends. 

Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before. 

Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all. And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt. 

But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him. You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count. 

Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?

He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most. He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand. 

The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault. “It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother. 

Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing? Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs. 

He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything. Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind, so it was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating. “What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point. 

Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing. Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?” 

Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?” Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing. “Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out. 

“What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone. “She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 

“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst. He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back. 

Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment at Chan’s sudden outburst. He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why Chan wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out? 

From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying. You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with animosity. 

You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful.. She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.  

But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room. “You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.

Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed. 

He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try. And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson. 

The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life. At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you. 

You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space and would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart. You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore. 

You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them. Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known. Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless. 

If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state. If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe. They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.) 

Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place. But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with. And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest. 

Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan. Before, you used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades. 

It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems. Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.) 

Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces. You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him. 

It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening. The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel. 

It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there (and you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.) Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out. 

Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams. And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right? 

But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there. 

He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of? 

You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise. He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant. 

You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you. If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors. 

Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing. You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that. 

Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you. 

Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily. Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes. 

Despite all he told himself though, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look. “So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.” 

Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you. “Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch. 

Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan was definitely one of those wrong places. “It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside. 

Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.” “Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront. 

Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day. He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to. 

He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself? How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind. Not to mention that the only ones who knew what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you. 

He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy? Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.

Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families. And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize, he would have absolutely nothing. 

No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone. Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore. 

A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it; and then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had. 

In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has, so he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed. It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy. 

And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue. Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you maybe even more than you felt you needed him. 

Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, that the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had. 

He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you. Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? 

He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket. He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without a follow up explanation spreads worry through him. And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help. 

“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable. He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you. 

"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds. The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there. 

He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in. “Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth. 

Chan wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance. Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you. 

You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you. You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away. 

You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it. All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different. 

But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should. Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been. 

And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here. You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.

The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant. You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered. So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was. 

You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on. Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan. 

You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile. You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given. 

Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; You see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact. He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?

Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe. "You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit. 

"Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his. The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs. 

The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand. “I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, and like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened. 

You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know- you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side. He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shift and handing it carefully to you. 

“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed. You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place. 

He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done. “Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I.. I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology. He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him. 

"It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you. "It's not okay, I- I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I-'' You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?" 

Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment. "Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you. 

That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was, and you want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you could. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.

"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him.. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you. 

He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high, or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns? 

All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad. Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.

“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was- I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..” 

Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes doesn’t do him any favors. The way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him. It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him, even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try. 

He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless. He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again. 

“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me. When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”

“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but didn’t have either the strength or willpower to get their own hands dirty, or couldn’t risk their public image by being associated with a criminal act, so they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge. 

But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected, what you hoped to hear- that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.

This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs, a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him. 

And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done. It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, but you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles that weighed him down, both physically and mentally. 

The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before- it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry. No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow. 

The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry- they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy. To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does. 

“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. You’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most. “I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you. 

He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer. “There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself. 

“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”

Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically? “You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous. God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him. 

“You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close. You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for. 

-

Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again. 

You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again. 

Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one- a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.

When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel. You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort. 

“Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed. “Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed. 

“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you. “I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”

“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack. “Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night. 

You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it. He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt. 

“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold. “Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously. 

“Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm. “I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice- he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake. 

“I promise. You’ll be the first to know, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.

Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close. “I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.” 

Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all. Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon- he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.

6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts! And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it? 

Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you. He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say. 

He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much. You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words. 

But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you- all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else. Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party- he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone. 

He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized. He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself, and that made him perfect to you. 

Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past. He made substantially less money for one, but a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made now was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own. 

He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him- what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar, one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken and not built on solid enough ground. 

Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just.. When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.

It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely. 

But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest. 

And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special. 

But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel. 

Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process. 

In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his 6 month anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully. Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not. 

That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation. He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.

What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy! Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. You’re guessing he usually slept that way but kept a shirt on when you were spending the night, but now that you were a couple, he didn’t have to. 

He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast. And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck- it was over for you. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you- you wanted him. 

But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan. But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.

Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush, that while certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan. 

He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you. When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room.

“Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention. “Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear. “W-What? I-I-, well-” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” You mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection. 

Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him? “O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately. 

Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers. “Yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.” “I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile. 

Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness- he needs to see you. You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll.. I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know. He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you. The kiss is slow- much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s.. sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist. 

Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay, but to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs. 

You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over. You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip- he loves it all. 

A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips. Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already; you’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel- you’re forever his angel. Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)

He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck. Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot. 

You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin. His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up. 

You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor. You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)

The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are- the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment. 

Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest. 

Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention. The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal. 

If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good. He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs. 

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body. You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big. 

You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off. It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing. 

You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet. 

He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him- God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven. 

You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans. Chan picks up the pace exponentially, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit.

He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer. Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He diverts all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue. 

He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release. You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss. 

You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state. “Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now.

“I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words. “Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours. 

He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie-” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry. 

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning. “Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft. 

Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip- how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once? 

Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you. 

But first, he needs to prep you well- so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make. 

You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans. You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips. 

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably. Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest- in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you.

He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god-” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you. You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean. 

Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?” “Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words. 

He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed. Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face. 

“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt. “Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers. 

He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation. 

You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise. He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him. 

He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down even if you wanted to. 

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop. 

“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts. The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together. 

Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and trying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you. You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes. 

“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace. Your legs are a bit wobbly after your endeavors so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower, takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.

You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite it. He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have. 

You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for. 

It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying. And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of- a life he promises to always share with you.

[alargehunkofdebris]

The Flip-Flopping Confidence of Aziraphale

So I made a post a bit ago about Aziraphale’s reaction to the kiss, and someone very correctly pointed out that Aziraphale does not believe he is undesirable (as I had claimed in-essay), citing that one little look in the first scene, after Crowley calls the universe “gorgeous.”

This is so true. What the heck is with that look?

I’ve thought about it, and here are my thoughts.

Long story short, Aziraphale is a big ol’ ball of contradictions, as is what sometimes happens with people who’ve suffered in toxic relationships.

But short story long, however…

Okay, so first of all, Aziraphale’s happy little expectation thinking that a complete stranger would call him “gorgeous” out of absolutely nowhere is bonkers. No other word for it. If I met someone for the first time, and they called me “gorgeous” straight to my face, apropos of nothing, no lead up whatsoever, I would be looking over my shoulder, wondering what the hell they were referring to. So this is either a very angel thing to do (they could just go around complimenting each other back then, who knows) or—and this is kinda my opinion—this was just a funny foreshadow thing that Mr. Gaiman did for the fans and to set the tone of the season. Or a mix of both. Remember, this is portraying the beginning of time—this is before they even really had corporeal forms. What we see, I’m guessing, is less a purely accurate visual of what happened and merely a representation. A stage-play version of the events. Yes, this is a comedy that uses modernisms to juxtapose for humor (referencing lead balloons before balloons were even invented, etc) but we can still (if we want) imagine that, for this to logically work, this is just a way of conveying these events in a way our 21st century brains can handle. For all we know, these two were balls of energy, conversing in some ancient star language through telepathy. And at this point, appreciation for another’s form might’ve just been a common thing. They were all so gorgeous, they just went around appreciating each other.

I don’t think this was meant to be so deep dived, however (doved? doven?). I think Gaiman just wanted a cute scene that shows their flirtation from the beginning. But I will argue, still, that this is at a point where Aziraphale hadn’t developed any kind of self-esteem issues. He was a baby angel, used to compliments, or maybe just so new with interaction that he wouldn’t have been surprised by anything. Let’s just say this: the Aziraphale of modern day probably wouldn’t have made that assumption.

It's a sad thing to think, but I think the modern day Aziraphale is one who has lost a portion of the self-confidence he’d carried in that first scene.

Because he is, at heart, a confident person, even when all evidence contradicts that feeling. He feels confident he can do slight-of-hand magic when he barely can, for example. But, after 6000 years of living amongst the humans, I’d say he’s also nestled very comfortably into the role of observer, never truly a part of anything. He playacts, and has fun, but knows he’ll never be a true magician. He makes believe, and has fun, but he’d never be a real reporter. He puts on ball, and dances, but he’ll never truly experience romantic love.

I think this stems hugely from this concept of being a mediocre angel. He’s felt that, ever since he befriended a demon. He’s been an observer of the “good” angels, but was never quite up to snuff himself (with exception, likely, to the time before the Fall). Crowley, on the other hand, while technically has been a “bad” demon, has still maintained a great reputation in Hell because he’s just damn good at selling himself. Aziraphale is too honest to lie, so he’s always (in my head) been a subpar employee, even before Armageddon’t. And his bosses don’t have any qualms about reminding him—they belittle him constantly, familiarly. To the point where Aziraphale has internalized this nugget of self doubt that keeps him from taking risks, going against the status quo, etc.

I know very well this weird, contradictory feeling. One moment you feel hot, and self-confident, and like no one on Earth can touch you. The next, moment, that old standby mode kicks in, and your feeling 6/10 once more. It’s a reminder, a wake-up alarm – don’t go too far, bucko. Don’t get too big for your britches. Remember who you are.

The times he feels the least connected to this self-doubt, this built-up lack of self-confidence, is when he is just doing small things with Crowley, and usually when it’s not anything high-stakes that would involve Heaven/Hell. He can bicker happily with Crowley about the car, he can nettle Crowley into doing a little apology dance, he can put on a ball and have fun. These low-risk times are when he can let loose, be happy and confident and himself, because these small moments will go unnoticed by Heaven. He’s not at risk of his bubble being burst, of being told “stop that. Remember your place.”

And that voice, tell him to stop and remember his place, is what keeps his confidence in check for the big things. Things like acknowledging that he and Crowley are more than friends, that Crowley wants to be with him so badly. Because, technically, Crowley is a much more “impressive” being than Aziraphale, and always has been. He was a higher-ranking angel, and was the demon chosen to tempt the humans. Though Aziraphale had a big job (that he screwed up on immediately, of course) he was still not the top in his rank (I don’t know anything about the bible, but if he was the angel of the Eastern Gate, I always assumed there were more guarding the walls/gates). Aziraphale was always getting reprimanded for his work, and Crowley was getting praise. Aziraphale is so used to being the “lesser” angel that he might even apply that title to him and Crowley, and be shocked at the idea that a slick, laid-back, higher-ranking demon (who is not typically even capable of love, perhaps) could make an exception for such a mediocre being. Despite all their flirtations and years of friendship, Aziraphale still sees it as this kind of play-acting – a dance they do for fun, but it’s never serious.

This is, of course, just one opinion in my brain – there’s a lot of ways to interpret it, and I can’t decide which one I really believe. Because if Aziraphale really saw nothing there, then what was the “you go too fast for me, Crowley” all about? It could’ve just been yet another moment of “You go too fast…in friendship,” thing, but who knows.

What I do know is that there’s something always holding Aziraphale back from Crowley, but it is not for lack of want. Aziraphale wants it just as much as Crowley. But he’s got many, many potential things holding him back from even considering this life – fear of heaven, lack of self-confidence, lack of trust, etc. It’s all adding up to one thought, the theme that’s threaded through his long, long, life—you’re not allowed to do this. You’re an angel, nothing less, nothing more.

[yanderefairyangel]

Monster in Fire Emblem Engage

What is a monster ? We read about them ever since the youngest age, those weird creatures that haunt our nightmares. However, did we ever questioned what they represent ?

A monster is a individual or a creature whose shape, behaviour, surprise by how far it is from what is considered to be "normal". It creates fear, disgust, hatred, disdain, loathing.

If we go back to the original meaning, it comes from the latin word monstrum, which comes from the latin verb monere "avert, indicate, enlight" and originally used to refer to miracle and any extraordinary event, without any negative connotation. Another etymology is that it is derivated from the latin verb monstare meaning "to show, to point out" because the monster is what is pointed out as extraordinary, out of the ordinary. In japanese, the common word for monster is 化け物/bakemono which is formed from the verb  化ける meaning "to transform, to disguise, to take a different form/appearance". If in our western conception a monster is what is different, in the japanese mind, it's what has the ability to become different and change it's shape.

In the traditional story of heroism, the hero always have to fight a monster, usually portrayed as an hideous creature with either zoomorphoic attributes or anthromorphic one. There is actually a much deeper level : the hero must fight and defeat a monster in this journey in order to defeat his own demons. See, monster's traditional representation are always linked to how in the human mind they are supposed to represent a part of the human monstruosity. We aren't pure and clean being, we human can commit absolutely awful acts, therefore the opposition to a monster is supposed to show how we manage to overcome the monstrusosity lying within us. This is also present in the traditional representation of the Devil. It's not accurate, it's meant to represent how human perceives it : as something worth fear. Monster in general are all based on the feelings and sensation they create. Their ugliness is motivated by the fear and hatred they create.

Therefore, whether an author is aware of that or not, this symbolic is bond to that scenario meaning that simply adapting it will recreate this symbolic.

Fire Emblem in general is no exception. It's all about the hero's journey to defeat the evil dragon that represent the worst, the one thing the hero must overcome. I link you to that thread :archie | currently playing sacred echoes! on X: "Like it's like we joked too much about recurring dragon final boss and forgot that they're...more than just a big dragon. Medeus represents lasting hate/war. Duma the tunnelvisioned pursuit of strength. Idunn is a walking war crime. Fomortiis works as the devil-on-the-shoulder." / X (twitter.com)

While this apply to a FE as a whole, I will focus on how Engage deals with the topic of monstruosity because of how it doesn't embarass itself with more then one plot line and focus on this one : on Alear defeating Sombron. And also because Engage is the perfect summing up of what FE is.

We already discussed this in my blog, but Sombron is the perfect embodiment for hatred. His serpentine form is actually unique to him. The snake is the symbol of Dvesha, one of the 3 poison of existence : it represent hatred, aversion, anger. Sombron is also an arrogant and egoistic person, the complete opposite of Alear. Sombron isn't only representing everything that Alear isn't, but what they must overcome, as well as their great fear. Sombron's monstruous appareance is based on how he lives in Alear's mind as the representation of their trauma. Sombron is the one person Alear hates the most, defeating him is the final trial for Alear to liberate themselves from hatred and to overcome their fear and trauma.

Likewise, Rafal turning into a monster/dragon in the Xenologue is showing how he is falling into his monstrous side. Here however, defeating Rafal is to help him gain freedom, overcome his own monstruous side. His dragon forms share a similarity with Sombron's however, it's still distinct enough for them to be very different when you take the time to compare them side by side. And this actually make sense. Sombron is a being consummed by hatred, Rafale by regret. This is visible in how he behaves when alone with Nel. And Rafal's form isn't so much about how people perceive him then how he sees himself. A monster. Knowing how he yearned for nothing but the approval of others and was considered to be worth "pointed out" by his other sibling for being a failure, it's no wonder. His skeleton design gives him a grim reaper looks, which makes sense with how he was the one to doom this world.

This monstruous aspect is also worth pointing out when discussing otherness. From a xenophobic point of view, and by that I mean "fear of the stranger/other" human have always tried to deem those they hated and feared as being non humans, in other words, monstruous in a way or another. They are deemed as "savages", "monsters" by judging "barbaric" some of their own customs, practices, belief etc. In Engage's case, this is represented by the hatred of Fell dragon that Veyle experienced. Veyle saw her mother tortured to death and almost experienced the same fate, all of this because she was a dragon, thus deemed a "monster". This made her relationship with other even harder. This made her hate her self with this self loathe being animated from the scar of being a dragon, making her wish to be human sometimes envying them, hating anything that reminds her that she is a dragon, because she interiorized the idea that she was indeed a monster. Hence, when she committed those awful deed, Veyle felt as if she became a monster as well, hence her will to make ammends for the sin she committed.

We can also view this on how Brodia and the believer of the Divine dragon antagonize those who believes in the Fell one and Fell dragon.

Veyle rejecting her dragon side is showing of how much this scarred her. She is rejecting her "monstruous side". Hence she get rid of her dragon stone, hence she tries to lessen her dragonic impulse wearing chains. Hence she tries to hide her identity and the fact she doesn't age. She tries to appear as close as human as possible as to not scare them, which result in her reject her "monstruous nature". In fact, I think the reason why dragons on the positive side have so few fature to distinguish them from human is to lessen the difference between them and human physically and how they are so similar to us, bare the transformation.

This however, is not the case of Zephia and Sombron. Their role as a monster gave them appearance that are more distinct from human then the other dragons, Sombron in particular whose form can be called humanoid at best. Zelestia's appearance being similar to Zephia is therefore her being in the same situation as Veyle, in which she is treated as a monster for something she can't be held responsible for : her appearance as she looks like a monster, but not because of the horns or the pointy ears, but because of her being Zephia's alter ego, someone who behave monstruosly. And Zephia herself used to view herself as monstruous for having destroyed her own home and killed her family, but while those action where something she did out of control, her action in the game are all done out of her own agency, making that Zephia ended up turning into the monster she though she was long ago... the irony

And also, the drastic difference between the Fell twins and the Fell sibbies is how they can turn into a dragon whereas the Fell sibbies cannot. I already pointed it out but the Fell twins still have a dragonic form that stands out as being different from Sombron as being less snake like and more alike to asiatic dragon as they retain a lof of lizard features. I already share my thoughs on how I think that it is because of how in their world, they have like a quater of divine blood (ok maybe less) but that's not the point here. Rafal and Nel have their own self loathe, but unlike Veyle and Alear it's not linked in a way or another to be a Fell dragon. And that's mainly cause of the positive influence Alear (isekai) was to them and helped them being accepted. Veyle however ? If her dragonic form looked even remotely close to Sombron's, that's no wonder she doesn't want to turn into a dragon as she doesn't want to be like him. It's her not wanting to be a "monster" once again, because it is her father's shadow that weighten on her.

In Alear's case, their lack of dragonic form steams from having forgotten about it however, Alear seems to have a post traumatic amnesia so once again, the fact they can't turn into a dragon is also indicating of Alear wanting to forget about the "monstruous" part in them. They hate Sombron and want nothing to do with him so sharing a form that looks even remotely close to his might break them as well. They can accept others, but not that from themselves. But most importantly, the comparison with the Corrupted.

When I made a post about the banditry in Firene, someone remarked that the presence of bandits with dead living in FE was done on purpose, to deshumanize bandits and I agree. But probably not in the same sense as that person. While FE always had instance of nuancing with the reason leading someone to banditry, the most "vile" of them we'll say are portrayed as cruel, merciless, committing awful acts. In that sense, they are acting like beast, monsters. In Engage it's the same, with the difference that we fight bandits only 4 times (not counting the squirmishes) because the threat of the Corrupted is made more important then the human one ever can. The Corrupted are obviously monsters, but their monstruosity ties within their name, how being revived as one of Sombron's pawn deprived people of their true nature, their humanity. And in Alear's mind they are doubly monstruous as they view them as the monster who killed their siblings and that they feared all their life. This also explain why Alear had a negative image of themselves : them looking like a Corrupted makes them a monster as well, therefore they view their past selves as being just as evilish, their past action made them a monster as well.

The only case of dragon whose form is not seen as a negative thing are the twins and Lumera's, which is not a sign or monstruosity there, showing that it is not the shape of the dragon that makes one a monster, but their actions.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A bit of an out of the blue question but do you think the new event outfits are offensive or innacurate in any way?

I saw some people have started using this, Cater's New Year's outfit and Diasomnia's dorm uniform as an example of why Twisted Wonderland and Yana Toboso are offensive.

Note: I am not saying Twisted Wonderland is an offensive game in the slightest but I've seen a lot of people have issues with certain things in the game they find problematic.

[Referencing this post!]

Okay, so 💦 we’re going to get into a lot of heavy topics about real world events and cultures in this post, so please take note of the tags and content warnings before proceeding!

I also want to preface this with the disclaimer that I do not intend to speak on behalf of the groups affected by this, nor am I am an expert in matters of world history/various cultures. I am only presenting you with the preliminary knowledge that I have so that you can come to your own conclusions.

I will, of course, give my own thoughts on these situations, but please bear in mind that it shouldn’t be my responsibility or obligation to do the research for you or to tell you right from wrong; that’s a decision you need to learn to make for yourself.

***CONTENT WARNING: discussion/mentions of war, racism, colonialism, Nazism, orientalism, genocide, and imperialism!***

To make things easier for everyone (including myself), I’m going to begin with responding to the latter 2 asks above.

I will then address the immediately relevant topics regarding the clothing in the Sunset Savanna event, then work backwards chronologically (so the section after is about Cater’s New Year clothing, and the final section is about the Diasomnia uniforms). I will have my general thoughts at the very end of each section, and then my overall thoughts.

On “Orientalism”

To the second ask's Anon 💦 I believe you’re not using that term correctly. “Orientalism” refers to appropriating or condensing elements of specifically Asian cultures (which includes the Middle East), not African cultures. By definition, the outfits of the Sunset Savanna are not “orientalist” because the clothing is meant to draw inspiration from African sources, not Asian ones. "Orientalist" is not a synonym for the word "racist", but rather orientalism can be an example or a component of racism. Please be more careful with your wording.

On Ruggie and the “African Poverty” Stereotype

This part is to address the Anon in the third ask!

I don't believe that Ruggie is a stereotype of African poverty. It can appear that way because we have such a small sample size of students from the Sunset Savanna (3). In statistics, the conclusions drawn are significantly less reliable or accurate if you're pulling from a small pool of data. I think this is also the case with Ruggie. It's an example of representation bias, where seeing one extreme makes an observer assume that this extreme says something about the whole group without looking at other context clues. Even if we were to accept that comparing Ruggie to the other two Sunset Savanna students is an acceptable measure, the stereotype still doesn't hold. Neither Leona nor Rook are destitute, which would seem to imply that Ruggie's impoverishment isn't the norm in their country, but an outlier. Even other minor mentions of characters from the Sunset Savanna do not imply poverty (ie Sebek's grandfather, who is said to come from there).

Secondly, I think that Ruggie being the only "poor" character in the main cast is a conscious decision, but not one made from racist roots. Each of the TWST characters borrows heavily from their respective Disney counterparts, and as you've stated yourself, the impoverished background that Ruggie comes from harkens back to the struggle of the hyenas in The Lion King. This is different from the other six movies whose villainous characters are twisted, as they largely do not have circumstances which focus on socioeconomic class differences. The closest other example we get to that is Aladdin, but this doesn't hold up since we don't have a formal twisted!Aladdin with which to contrast to Kalim's enormous wealth. Jamil is twisted from Jafar, who is the Sultan's advisor, and thus would have a great amount of wealth himself (hence why this is reflected in Jamil by having the Viper family also be fairly well-off). This means that Ruggie was very deliberately designed to be the way he is because of his Disney inspiration. It's a large part of his character, right down to several lines he speaks in episode 2--all that talk about how even hyenas can "become king" at NRC.

Regarding NRC, we need to remember that it is considered a VERY exclusive private school. If it’s anything like upscale learning institutions in the real world, most of the students attending will be from wealthy/influential families or just middle class or upper middle class ones in general. Look at how stacked the NRC cast is; Riddle’s parents are healers (his mom being very highly respected), Leona and Malleus are royalty, Vil is a huge celebrity, Cater’s dad is a banker, Rook and the twins are implied to be from important families, Idia is the future director of a secret organization, Kalim is loaded, etc. It makes sense that there would be far fewer impoverished students compared to privileged ones (though I do think it’s unfair 😔).

Another thing to consider is that while Ruggie is definitely the most extreme case of poverty in the main cast (again, due to being twisted from the hyenas), there are others in less-than-ideal situations too. We cannot discount them in this discussion. Deuce is from a single parent household (which most likely means a smaller income than a two parent household), and it is implied in episode 5 that Epel’s entire village was struggling financially until Vil stepped in. Poverty is a spectrum, and we see this in lesser forms in the other students. As you’ll notice, even when we count Deuce and Epel, “poverty” is a small fraction of the main cast, which, again, is similar to patterns observed in real world posh private schools.

The final point I will make here is concerning Lilia and Vil. Yes, they’re unorthodox picks for a Sunset Savanna event, but this doesn’t mean there is ill intent behind them going. We can’t say “it feels like the devs made this decision to clown Leona” because the event is not out yet and therefore has not had an opportunity to explain why those two specifically joined the group for the trip. I don’t even think it’s particularly weird to see Lilia and Vil traveling in general; it seems like they do that a lot anyway (Lilia has canonically traveled a lot and Vil has traveled with his dad and must travel sometimes for his job). Leona also appears to dislike a majority of the main cast, not just Lilia and Vil; if anyone else had been picked, he’d probably be just as grumpy about it. (Leona probably doesn’t like that Kalim is coming along either; why is the hate presumed to be directed only at Lilia and Vil?) It’s grossly preemptive to make conclusions about the reasons why Lilia and Vil are present and how Leona feels about them going with him before the event has come out 💦

Sunset Savanna Clothing

While coding certainly exists (ie when fictional things are stand-ins for real world people, objects, concepts, places, etc), fiction is also able to draw on real world inspiration WITHOUT being a one-to-one parallel of the real world AND without necessarily being racist. This is true of media such as Avatar the Last Airbender, which exposits many eastern philosophies and concepts, such as balance with nature, balance, and destiny, while also having designs and a world heavily inspired by a number of Asian groups. Although it is clear that each of the four elements has a main inspiration (the Air Nomads draw from Tibetan monks, the Water Tribes draw from the Innuit people, the Fire Nation draw from Japan, and the Earth Kingdom draws from China), these are not absolutes. For example, Song, a healer from the Earth Kingdom (based on China), wears a hanbok, a piece of clothing which is traditionally Korean. Avatar intersperses ideas from many Asian cultures in a thoughtful manner because these are just parts of their world WITHOUT ever claiming to be “Chinese” or representative of Chinese. These real-world concepts and ideas were appropriately adapted for a fictional world, and it is not appropriation because it is not done in an exploitative or disrespectful manner.

I would argue that Twisted Wonderland is capable of doing the same, as we’ve seen places such as the City of Flowers (which is basically twisted Paris without explicitly BEING “just Paris but with magic”). You can tell from the food and the language spoken that the City of Flowers IS meant to be “French”, but they have a customs and traditions of their own that isn’t tied to real world Paris. Twisted Wonderland is never claiming that “oh, this fictional country is supposed to be a version of [this country in the real world]”; they are adopting ideas and making them into new lore for their own world. This is also true of other areas we have visited like Harveston and the Scalding Sands. The only reason conclusions are drawn that parts of the TWST world are “equivalents” to those on our world comes purely from fandom speculation and interpretations.

Some will think that the TWST world should be exact representations of the real world, and others choose to make the divide between fiction inspired by reality and reality itself. This distinction is important to consider in navigating this conversation, as the stance adopted will definitely play into whether one believes content to be in poor taste or not.

Yana herself has stated that the Sunset Savanna event has been in the works for 2 years now, so I’d imagine that a considerable amount of research and planning went into this event. I won’t speak on the quality of said research, as we can never know for sure. However, if previous homestay events are of any indication, the research was most likely NOT to make a one-on-one 100% “accurate” recreation of any African culture but rather to integrate elements of African culture to create a part of the TWST world which can exist as its own entity while still remaining respectful of its inspiration. We must also remember that the event itself isn’t out yet, so we can’t accurately judge if there is appropriation or offensive use of its inspiration with just some visuals. A similar situation happened when Rollo was first announced and we hadn’t even met him in the game yet; people jumped the gun and claimed that because the character he is inspired from is racist and genocidal that Rollo too is problematic—yet when the story actually unfolded, Rollo was not either of those things. He still borrowed ideas of self-righteousness and contempt for sinners (magic users in this context) from his Disney counterpart, but he was not the exact same as that counterpart.

With that being said, let’s talk about the new event outfits. The question on the table is “are these clothes offensive or inaccurate in any way?”

Firstly, is important to understand that Africa is NOT a monolith. It would be impossible (and frankly reductive) to boil down a whole continent to a single unified style of dress. Gauging the “accuracy” is simply something that cannot be done, as it appears that Twisted Wonderland borrowed from many areas of Africa when designing the looks. It wouldn’t be 100% accurate to any singular part of Africa, just as Avatar would not be 100% accurate to any singular part of Asia.

Secondly, we cannot speak for others or over others. If you want to know if the clothes are offensive, ask an African or someone who can speak wisely on the matter. It’s not that others cannot hold an opinion on it, but I think it's just as valid, if not moreso, to hear from the ones whose cultures are being represented rather than just the people who claim to speak for or defend those cultures while not being a part of it. Someone with knowledge of and experience of a certain culture can speak for themselves and how they feel about this. They just may choose not to, especially in the cases where they aren't deeply upset with the representation (because if they don't feel a strong emotion toward it, what is there for them to react to publicly?). The spectrum of hurt is also vital to consider here. When we focus only on the loudest voices (no matter where it may come from), it creates this false assumption that more people are upset than there actually are, or that one/a handful of comments reflects the thoughts of the entire group.

I personally don’t find the clothing offensive, but take my opinion with a grain of salt, as I’m not super familiar with African fashion. (I’m not counting a few Google searches as enlightening me on the full extent of it.) From my understanding, the outfits seem to borrow heavily from the designs of The Lion King’s Broadway musical and even Black Panther (two Disney productions that have been positively received by at least the African American community). I see a lot of similar patterns and accessories in Leona and crew’s outfits; my thought is that if the latter two pieces of media also borrow from many different African cultures and were not widely criticized for inaccurate or offensive portrayals of their costuming, then what is the issue with TWST’s? No one in any of these productions (TWST included) is claiming to be presenting Africa as a monolith but rather is borrowing elements from many countries, tribes, and even other cultures entirely to come up with their costumes. Again though, I wouldn’t take my word as gospel; please look around the community and see if there are any African fans that do take offense to the design direction that TWST has taken. (If anyone that is familiar with African fashion and/or culture does see this post, I'd love to hear your thoughts and broaden my understanding of this situation.)

In saying that, I also want to stress that you aren’t “wrong” or “bad” if you disagree with this take. I do not mean to discredit or to invalidate people’s thoughts on this matter; I understand why people feel so strongly about this, especially when popular media has historically not been kind or accurate in its depictions of other cultures. When a pattern has already been established, it’s so much easier to be wart of new content. You have a right to find whatever material you encounter as offensive or not offensive; all ask is that you respect differences in opinion, and at least give the event a chance rather than letting your thoughts prime (set expectations for) the perception of every bit of lore to come in the new event 💦

Cater’s New Year Outfit

The issue that people take with Cater’s outfit is associated with the particular design of it, which is very reminiscent of the style that was worn and popularized during the Taisho era of Japan. For those who may not know, the Taisho era is not remembered fondly because it is characterized by Japanese imperialism into significant parts of Asia, such as China, Korea, and Taiwan. There’s more grueling history there, but I’m going to cut it short for the sake of brevity. You’re free to do more research into this if you’re interested.

For comparison, here is Cater's New Year attire and here are some examples of Taisho era clothing:

As you can see from the linked images, Cater has some elements of Taisho clothing while also sporting a modern twist to them. The cut of his shirt imitates the cut of the nagajuban, and instead of an obi, he wears his usual Heartslabyul sash at the waist. Additionally, it can be argued that the Heartslabyul jacket worn over that is meant to be similar to the cloaks characteristic of Taisho fashion.

In any case, what I said for the Sunset Savanna clothing also applies here; please listen to the voices of people who were impacted by Japanese imperialism. Their feelings are valid, and if they find discomfort in Cater wearing the clothing, then those feeling should be respected. However, individual opinions will widely vary and are not representative of the entire group. If one Chinese person says they are offended by Taisho clothing, it doesn’t mean ALL Chinese people will find it offensive.

At the same time, someone is NOT automatically a bad person or supportive of imperialism just because they enjoy the fashion or excuse Cater for wearing it. Some will believe that clothing is just clothing and that there isn’t a deeper message behind it unless the one wearing that clothing acts in a way that glorifies what they wear. And indeed, it is possible to appreciate the fashion of a time period without condoning the things that occurred or were promoted during that same time period. For example, if someone were to wear Edwardian inspired fashion or just straight up Edwardian era clothing, it doesn’t mean the individual supports colonization. Clothing CAN be used to project a message, but it does not ALWAYS project a message.

This is actually something I feel I can speak on, as my family comes from one of the areas directly impacted by Japanese imperialism. I don’t personally take offense to Cater wearing what he is. I’m of the opinion that so long as he’s not acting in a way that glorifies imperialism then it’s fine; to me, wearing it alone does not promote imperialism, just as “problematic” material appearing in media does NOT mean automatic support of that material). That being said, I also have friends with similar backgrounds that are offended by Cater’s clothing. We are able to disagree without acting morally superior to one another or insulting the other’s views, and I feel that this is something that should extend to others when discussing this topic. At the end of the day, we must accept that one opinion does not define a whole country and that there is no clear “right” answer here; it’s all left to individual interpretation.

Diasomnia Dorm Uniforms

I’ve already previously addressed the Diasomnia uniform controversy here.

To quickly summarize, it appears to have been a mistranslation of a particular term; this most likely occurred due to the context of the rest of the sentence not being taken into account when translating. OP’s translation has since been deleted, but the Reddit thread of responses still exists and in it, OP apologizes for this error.

Personally, I don’t see a point in assuming the worst of people when the context clues all point to it being a translation error and not purposefully meant to invoke imagery of N*zis. To me, it looks like a general military look with some elements of equestrian fashion and nothing more than that. As is the case with Cater’s New Year attire, I have friends who think otherwise. While they concede that there was a mistranslation, they still perceive the Diasomnia uniforms as questionable in design. These opinions can coexist, because everyone’s perceptions will vastly differ based on their own world knowledge and experiences.

I want to reiterate a point I bring up in the Diasomnia post, as it relates to “problematic” or sensitive content in general:

[...] we should not make assumptions in such broad strokes about another person based on what they create. People are capable of creating things for reasons other than “I support this”. They may want to call light to something or critically discuss it in a way that isn’t possible in real life. This is true of much of literature, from the classics to contemporaries, fiction to nonfiction.

Depicting insensitive things in media becomes a major issue when “bad” things are glorified or treated like they are “good”. The presence of a “bad” thing in of itself does not necessarily make the entire work “evil”.

General Thoughts

When it comes to issues like this, I feel that the immediate reaction is to take sides, then throw terrible words at the opposing side or assume the absolute worst of the devs. Honestly, I don’t think that’s the best thing to do. It’s very narrowed minded and short sighted 💦and ultimately, it’s unnecessarily inflammatory and won’t make anyone want to hear you out if you do feel uncomfortable with something the game has presented. It’s all very reactionary rather than stopping to critically examine the context and looking at more informed opinions.

Of course, this isn’t to discount gut reactions. Sometimes they can be very strong, and rightfully so. This also isn’t to say that TWST, or Disney/Aniplex has NEVER screwed up, because they most certainly have. (For example, I don’t think using the term “exotic” was in good taste for Fairy Gala; they should have used another term. A lot of Disney’s attempts to portray certain cultures also fall flat and come off as reductive.) It’s just that these particular scenarios are circumstances in which I think the fandom is either oversimplifying the matter or shouting too loudly over the people that are actually impacted by this and may have something to say about it.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that whether you’re offended by their clothes or not, both sides are entitled to feel how they do. You’re not “right” or “wrong” for believing what you believe; just don’t go out of your way to claim the people who don’t agree with you are bigots or evil 💦and please, please, PLEASE listen to other opinions, especially those coming from the potentially affected groups. Don’t assume that just because there is a ruckus being kicked up that it is representative of everyone in that group, because it most definitely is NOT. Don’t take everything you see or hear at face value, LOOK INTO THINGS YOURSELF (I even encourage you to fact check everything I’ve told you in this post!). Lastly, if you’re going to discuss these topics, please remember to do so in a respectful manner!!

I’m sorry if I sound worn out by now or if I sound like a broken record but I’m just 😔 sad and tired, I guess?? These ARE important topics to discuss, and I will always support critiquing the media we consume, but I don’t enjoy it when such broad and instant assumptions are made. I wish people would be less reactionary, take a step back, evaluate the information being presented, do some research of their own (even into stances which clash with theirs), and then decide for themselves whether something is upsetting to them. As I said in the beginning, it shouldn’t be my responsibility or obligation to do the research for you or to tell you right from wrong; that’s a decision you need to make for yourself 💦

I also wish there would be more respect for those that take opposing opinions. Instead, there is a lot of hearsay and assuming that said hearsay is automatically correct just because there is an intense claim or emotion behind it, and a lot of judgment of others’ moral character based on these disagreements. It unintentionally leads to shaming people who are genuinely excited for new content. It’s all very tiring, it kills hype, and it makes people afraid to demonstrate their excitement 💦 I wish we’d just let the content come out in full and speak for itself before evaluating it so harshly... As for myself, I’m going to remain optimistic but still reasonably cautious 🥲