#i just thought it more respectful to make my own post instead of invading theirs with my ranting

[messiahzzz]

while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

#with love. a person diagnosed with bpd <3 #this turned much longer than i originally intended it to be (aka less of a reply and more of a character study) #by now you know that i am incapable of cutting myself short. i’m so sorry #i debated if i should put this in the tag at first #but i personally think that this is a very interesting discussion #also to reiterate: this is by NO MEANS a slight at the original poster #i just thought it more respectful to make my own post instead of invading theirs with my ranting #fandom is all about fun and escapism. #if you interpret characters in a certain way that i personally disagree with that is a-okay #BUT i’m also gonna have my own specific brand of fun by pointing out why you’re wrong (affectionately) #also i quickly want to add that if you're interested in a very accurate and respectful portrayal of bpd: watch crazy ex-girlfriend!! #its on netflix and genuinely such a funny and unapologetically weird show. the writers have really done their homework #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #character analysis #it speaks #long post #suicide mention

[vertanimeni]

the ice will start to break, the day will fade away (2/18)

Summary:

“Have you heard? The Elephant of Caocin has committed high treason!”

From Trikru’s most reputable war hero to Trikru’s most wanted traitor, Kova found themselves stripped of their titles and trapped between a clan that wants them dead and a camp of invaders - the same ones who kidnapped and tortured their brother.

But Kova was willing to do anything to stay alive and keep their family together.

Pairing: Bellamy/Grounder OC

Word Count: 4,027

TW: None I believe~

A/N: Hi hi! After some convincing from my friends, I decided to post this series here :D I’ve already finished with season 1 and half of season 2, I’m just in the middle of re-writing and editing. If you’re reading through my blog, the read more does not show up due to Tumblr’s new formatting, so please click on the post itself. I’ll be updating every other day at 12pm EST. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

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⟻ Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ⟼ 

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ii. invaders.

As it turned out, sending word to Chief on the scavenger group was the right call. The group had almost triggered Mount Weather’s fog territory when one of them, a young boy, had used a vine to leap across the river. With little time to think or make a plan, a scout had speared the boy in the chest from afar and dragged his body away.

Well. The entire situation could have ended up worse, especially since the hunters of surrounding villages were out at that time. If they had been caught in the fog, there was no chance of survival for them or the food they might have been hunting.

Unfortunately, this also meant the scout had accidentally alerted the sky people of Trikru’s presence. Kova and Lincoln had been surprised to find the once peaceful camp suddenly in disarray when the scavenger group returned with news that they weren’t the only ones on Earth.

As for TonDC’s training camp? Needless to say, word of the sky people spread across the grounds shamelessly.

“It seems like the Descendants didn’t know there were still living humans here!”

“Hah! The Betrayers were full of rich, wealthy, and influential pigs who stepped on others to survive! I wouldn’t be surprised if they taught their children, including these so-called Descendants that they were the last humans!”

“How self-centered!”

“Do you all have nothing else to do but gossip?” Kova’s sharp voice came from the table behind the gossiping warriors. “Go train like proper students. I’m tired of hearing your voices.”

The warriors turned their heads so viciously towards them that Kova felt second-hand whiplash. The group of warriors faced Kova, faces red in anger, affronted, ready to give Kova a piece of their mind, most likely something along the lines of “How dare you speak to your elders/higher ranks like that!”

That was, until, they realized who had admonished them with little care for respect. Embarrassed at being called out by the great Elephant of Caocin, they shamefully grabbed their things and left. Kova had no doubt that the group was cursing them out as they made their way to the training ground.

Kova took another sip of tea from the cup they made when they returned from scouting. After 12 hours of traveling by tree, running around thick and sturdy branches, noting down important aspects of the camp and the Descendants, they had finally been relieved and were ordered to report to the Chief about their findings.

The most important note of their scouting session was that, yes, one of the Descendants had a gun, just as the scout who had speared the sky boy mentioned in their report. Why? Nobody knew. Not even Chief Indra of the Unforgiving generation, the oldest living generation on Earth, had seen a gun in her lifetime.

Thankfully, as far as they were aware of, there was only one gun. But the idea of the Descendants owning a weapon like that, a weapon practically extinct yet still taboo throughout the twelve clans, didn’t sit well with the Chief. The Chief immediately sent word to Lieutenant Anya, General Tristan, and the Commander herself, just in case.

Two taps on the calf of their legs, resting comfortably on the chair opposite of theirs, brought them back to the present. Without thinking, they held their legs in the air for a moment to let Lincoln sit across from them before placing their legs back down on his lap, careful to not let the outsole of their shoes brush against his pants.

They gave him a questioning look. He wordlessly handed over an envelope, closed by a wax seal with a familiar intricate design. Kova couldn’t help but look away and shut their eyes, taking the envelope and dropping it carelessly, seal facing the table. “That seal,” they took in a deep breath, eyes tightening shut, “that damned seal haunts my dreams.” They muttered under their breath and opened their eyes. “What mission did you get?”

Lincoln shook his head. “Not sure yet. I wanted to open it with you. But Kova—” they raised their eyebrows slightly at the usage of their real name. “—the Commander and Lieutenant Anya gave you 3 years of medical leave.”

A bitter laugh tumbled out of Kova’s mouth. “Medical leave? Is that what they’re calling it now, Lincoln?”

“You don’t have to return to Trikru’s militia yet, not if you don’t feel ready.”

“I’m never going to be ready.” Their gaze finally met his, yet Lincoln couldn’t feel relief, not when he could see the dark circles under their eyes, and the even darker look on their face. “I had seven years left of training before I can finally opt out of of the militia in good graces. I’ve spent two of those years in seclusion, I cannot spend one more minute in that damn residence. Especially now.”

For the first time in all his life, Lincoln realized, he wanted to plead — no, beg — for Kova to return to the residence. At least then he would know that they weren’t wearing themselves thin for a clan who forced their hand all those years ago. But their words stunned him, and while he stared at them wordlessly, mouth slightly agape, they took their envelope and pulled out the letter.

After a moment, he raised an eyebrow, as if to ask what they had gotten. “Lead protector of Fort Nauk.” They answered his unasked question and folded the letter back up neatly into the envelope. “You?”

He opened his and sighed before handing them the letter. They couldn’t help but snort. “Lead facilitator of the scouting group, huh? Looks like we won’t be able to see one another for a while.”

“A-Ko—”

“It says here you’ll be leaving tonight.” They handed the letter back. “Congrats, you get the job closest to all the action.”

“Will you be okay without me?”

“Shit, I better be okay, I have an entire fort to protect, apparently.” They meant to joke around, but their words came out with a tang of bitterness.

“Kova.” Ah shit. They knew that tone of his. “Be serious. Will you be alright? I don’t mind taking another mission to be closer to you.”

“You do that and I’ll never forgive you.” They snapped as they stood up. “I don’t need a baby sitter, I’ll be just fine on my own. It’s not my first time leading, nor is it my first mission.”

“Kova—”

“I better report to the Chief to let her know.”

“Kova, wait—”

“I’ll see you tonight.” And with that, they left Lincoln alone at the table.

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They hadn’t meant for their conversation to end on such a bad note, but the idea of Lincoln sacrificing his own duties just to take care of them left a sour taste in their mouth. Truthfully, Kova had only taken a few steps away from Lincoln when they realized how childish they were acting, but whether it was out of pride or stubbornness, they refused to turn back. Instead, they found their feet taking them to the Chief, true to their previous words—

“Why do I feel like you would rather be anywhere else but this camp? The very same camp you begged to be part of all those years ago?”

—only to find themselves in the middle of another lecture.

Chief Indra stood behind her desk, facing the window of her tent, hands clasped behind her back. She tilted her head slightly towards Kova, who remained frozen in their spot, eyes glued to the floor.

“Why do I feel like you are still not happy?”

“Would you like for me to fake my happiness for your pleasure?” While their voice had softened considerably compared to their usual clear tone, their sharp words could not be dulled down.

“Kova!” The Chief whipped around, eyes flashing in anger, eyebrows furrowing together.

“My apologies, Chief, that was out of line.”

“That’s another thing. Since when did you start calling me Chief?” The Chief stepped towards them, and they ducked their head further, away from her gaze. She must have decided not to push on that topic, whether because she was afraid of the answer, or didn’t care as much as Kova thought. “A-Ko. You were once considered as Trikru’s pride and joy.” Her voice came out in a murmur, hinted with disbelief. “Yet here you are. What happened to you?”

Kova knew Chief Indra’s words delve far deeper than their conversation. Her words held two years of resentment of Kova’s voluntary seclusion, held the pain of not just losing her best warrior and student, but someone she had once considered family.

Despite knowing this, they couldn’t prevent their thoughts from growing bitter. ‘What happened to me? How could you possibly ask me that, knowing damn well what happened to me. Were you not there when the higher ups forced my hand at that mountain? Were you not there the second I became the feared mass murderer I am today? Were you not there when my family and I were praised and despised for my actions? What happened to me wasn’t my choice, I never asked for this, I never asked to be the Elephant of Caocin.’

The room had gone silent. It felt as if even the world outside the tent had fallen into hushed whispers. Confused, Kova looked up, only to find the Chief practically shaking in anger, fists trembling against her desk, her face adorning a scowl Kova hadn’t seen since their own breakdown two years ago. It was only then did Kova realize two things.

One, they had said their thoughts out loud.

And two, at some point, they had also started crying.

Fresh tears streaked down their cheeks, but they made no movement to wipe their face, terrified of catching the Chief’s attention.

“Elephant of Caocin,” the Chief started, her voice straining to contain her anger, preventing her from yelling, “is an honorary title, given by the Commander herself. How could you possibly—”

“While I didn’t mean to speak my mind, Chief,” They practically spat the word, their anger flaring, “I cannot believe that you chose to focus on that out of what I said.”

If this was a few years ago, when Kova still had respect for the militia and the clan, when their hands weren’t tainted by the bitter tang taste of chokeberries, blood and dirt, they would have respectfully asked for permission to leave Chief Indra’s presence. But this was no longer a few years ago. Kova no longer held any respect towards the Chief, towards the militia, or towards Trikru. Kova was no longer Kova. They were the Elephant of Caocin.

Thus, with a subtle bow of their head, one fist across their heart and the other behind their back, as customary, they left the tent, ignoring the calls of what had once been their name.

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Kova had secluded themselves once more in their private tent after their talk with Indra. They had fallen into a mental black hole, one that took a few hours to climb out of. By the time they had left their tent, stomach grumbling in contempt, the sun was beginning to fall past the mountains surrounding the camp, ready to leave the warriors to defend themselves against the growing cold. ‘Winter must be coming sooner than we thought.’ The thought briefly passed their mind in a panic. They mentally noted that they would have to prepare their residence back at TonDC against the cold.

They had been on their way to the main campfire, where everyone would group to see of the scouts, only to be told by Zoya they had missed the scouts departures. Including Lincoln’s.

Frustration coiled in their chest like a familiar snake, and while Zoya had once known Kova like the back of her hand, and would never be afraid of them, she also knew the Elephant of Caocin had a short temper when it came to Lincoln or those close to them.

“They left recently,” She pointed Northeast with her thumb, forcing her hand not to tremble. “Since they’ll be setting up camp eventually, I think you can catch up with them.”

Without another word, Kova made their way out of camp and through the woods. Usually, a scouting mission like this wouldn’t bother Kova (unless it involved Azgeda). After all, they and Lincoln had gone weeks, months on end without seeing or hearing from one another, but this time was different. Maybe it was because they had ended on a bad note earlier that day. Maybe it was because of their talk with the Chief. Regardless of what it was, they had to at least say good bye, even if it meant they had to run to him this time, instead of away.

‘By the Gods,’ Kova thought as they ran through the woods, hopping over uprooted trees and roots alike, ‘Radios would sure come in handy right now.’

The elders, who were now mostly ancestors, had salvaged radios a few decades ago, and they worked perfectly fine until suddenly every single one of them had a strange frequency interference. The radio workers at the time said it was just lingering radiation.

‘Lingering radiation. Just wait until I can get my hands on one, let’s see if lingering radiation will stop me from reaching A-Lin.’ Kova mentally scoffed, their eyes focused on the task of finding their brother.

Poor Lincoln. They couldn’t help but wince at how he would react when (not if, when) he found out about their conversation with the Chief. They knew he wasn’t necessarily fond towards the Chief, but regardless, she was still their superior, their elder, one that had taken care of them not too long ago.

Their train of thoughts were pushed to the side when their eyes found a source of light from a campfire, and eventually stumbled upon the scouts themselves.

Before any scout could pull their swords out, they raised their hands and announced, “It’s me.”

Soft murmurs of ‘oh’ came from the scouts before they all decided to sit back down into their relaxing positions, placing their weapons to the side. Most were eating or talking, but there were a few scattered around who were simply sleeping. The ones who were awake greeted them with a simple nod.

“We were wondering when you would pop up.” One scout greeted Kova with a firm grip to their forearm, which Kova reciprocated. “Looking for Lincoln?”

They gave a subtle nod of their head, a soft “Mn.” following.

“He said his seclusion hut is nearby and went to pick up something he forgot.” The scout jutted their head towards their left. “He went that way.”

Kova raised an eyebrow ever so slightly in confusion, but if the scout had noticed the change in expression, they didn’t mention it. “Thank you. Good luck on the mission.” They turned around to leave—

“Wait, Elephant of Caocin!”

The name felt as if the young scout had poured cold water down their spine. Kova turned back, slowly, hesitantly, as if ready for another lecture, but to the scouts, it looked like they had just stopped and waited to listen.

“It’s already dark out,” The scout spoke, and Kova realized their words were true — the sun was gone, replaced by a bright moon, as if mocking their predicament. “Why don’t you stay until Lincoln returns? We have extra food if you’d like to eat. He should be back soon.”

They clenched their jaw. All they wanted to do was find Lincoln. But they also knew the scout’s words were, once again, true. There would be no point running around the forest blind. They’ve visited Lincoln’s hut before, but not to the extent where they knew where to go based on their position in the forest.

Letting out a small huff of visible breath, they gave the scout a curt nod. After having a quiet dinner alone, they settled on what would have been Lincoln’s mat, knowing that when he returned, the two could have a serious talk, and, hopefully, Kova could apologize.

As they settled on their side underneath their fleeced-jacket-turned-blanket, Kova briefly wondered if they would even be able to sleep tonight. Their thoughts derailed to their time in seclusion, how they tried so desperately to sleep, even when their residence would become so dark at night, they couldn’t be sure they still had their eyes. But now, with the light of the stars above them, they could see their hand in front of them, fingers relaxed. They could see the tall grass surrounding the mat, some facing away under the crushing pressure of Lincoln’s bed. And they can see the tree line, where even more darkness, and maybe Lincoln, were.

During those two dark years in seclusion, there had been a few times where Kova would lie in bed for what felt like hours, and they would stare at what should have been the ceiling (if the hut wasn’t so damn dark at night) until their eyes burned and teared up from exhaustion, their muscles aching to relax for even one moment. Only then could they “sleep,” when in reality they would blink and find the ceiling streaked with sunlight and the roosters beginning to crow.

(The point of sleeping was to restore and energize their body, so why did they feel even more exhausted when they woke up?)

This is what happened on Lincoln’s mat, except when Kova blinked, instead of waking up to the sun rising as usual, they woke up in the midst of blue hour, just before the sun could shyly touch its rays upon the Earth.

They had hoped it was Lincoln who had woken them up, but when they sat up on their elbows, the entire camp was asleep, the campfire was merely ashes, and Lincoln was not there.

They shot upright. The scout that had been on watch startled, as if they had been falling asleep. If this was another time, Kova would have teased them with some light scolding, an amused look on their face.

But this was not another time, and Lincoln was not here.

They stood up, swinging their fleeced jacket over their shoulders smoothly.

“Elephant of Caocin, where are you going?” The scout stood up with them, but all it took was one strong, sleep deprived glare from Kova for the scout to slowly sit back down, a shocked look on their face. Kova softened their look, a hint of an apology behind their dark eyes before they turned back to the forest line.

“I’m going to find Lincoln. Don’t follow me.”

And with that, they walked out of the camp quietly.

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The moment Kova knew they weren’t being followed by the scouts, their walk became a light jog, then a run, then a full on sprint. If the sounds of leaves crunching under their shoes or their heavy footfalls didn’t alert the animals nearby, then surely the sound of their pounding heart would, each beat hitting their eardrums.

At night, Kova wouldn’t have been able to tell where Lincoln’s home was, but in the day, there were little signs of where it could be. There were a few areas where mushrooms that had been growing on trees were picked, where herbal plants had been cleanly cut off, and where opened seeds without their pits were lying around. Once they reached a familiar bush of little berries, one that Lincoln was fond of because it reminded him of the berry tarts his mother used to make for him when he was young, Kova knew they were almost there.

So one could only imagine their crestfallen shock when they finally reached the cave (that Lincoln turned into a home during his own seclusion), only to find it completely ravaged. The door of Lincoln’s home had been ripped off its hinges and thrown into the bushes nearby, and the once well cared for welcome mat inside the house had been stampeded over, with boot marks made of dirt trailing from the mat and down the stairs.

Kova stumbled forward once, twice, his name quietly tumbling out of their mouth until one of their knees gave out underneath them. The dirt and dust underneath their knee would surely stain their clothes, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.

Before they could even think about what could have done this (or who, a small voice whispered in the back of their mind), they heard grunts and the sound of objects being thrown around in the house. At first instinct, Kova had thought he was in the midst of being ambushed and needed help, but it didn’t add up. He had been gone for the entire night, unless he chose to sleep there instead of the scout camp, but even then, if he was being ambushed, there would be the sounds of punches and kicks hitting their marks, not the sounds of paper shifting and metal mugs clattering across the floor. There was a heavy weight in their gut, as if to say wait it out. They knew better than to ignore their gut instinct, so they did.

Although they had been trained for situations such as this, Kova couldn’t push down the panic that rose in their throat when they heard not one, but two pairs of feet heading up the stairs, a thudding noise following with every step as if they were dragging something heavy. They ran and hid behind the bushes, peeking through them by spreading the leaves apart with one hand, while the other went straight down to the weapon holster on their thigh. Their fingers curled around the handle of their knife, but kept it sheathed.

They saw movement from deep within the house until two boys stepped out of the entrance, dragging a man between them. One boy carried the man by his legs and the other by his arms, but they must have been weak, seeing as the two dropped the body as soon as they passed the entrance, hunching over in exhaustion.

“Why is he so damn heavy?” One of them wiped the sweat off with the back of his hand.

It didn’t take much for Kova to recognize who the man was. Their eyes widened and they sucked in a sharp breath. ‘Lincoln, you damn fool.’ Kova had never seen the two boys before, but their clothing style was an obvious indicator they weren't part of the 12 clans, nor part of the mountain men. They must be the invaders from the dropship. Kova could only wonder how they found Lincoln, but didn’t have time to ponder over it, seeing as the two boys picked Lincoln up again.

The skin of their knuckles turned stark white as their fingers curled tightly around the hilt of their knife, ready to rip it out of its sheath. Yet they hesitated in killing the two boys.

They were reminded of the scouts’ reports when they first checked out the drop ship. When the invaders first landed, the scouts' reports contrasted with others, so it was unclear on their abilities. Kova never saw these kids fight, but one scout did and said they were out for blood and revenge. Another scout said they fought like how young children do over a toy. The invaders were unpredictable. The other reason they hesitated was the gun. Based on reports there was only one gun in that group, but who knew how many guns the invaders could have? As much as Kova would hate to admit it, they had no chance if the two boys had a gun on them. It would kill them quicker than they could even touch them. And they would rather die by Trikru’s hands than some invaders.

Kova knew better than anyone else when to choose their battles, despite wanting to choose them all. But for their safety, for Lincoln’s safety, the best plan they could think of was to request a rescue mission. Thus, they loosened their hold on their knife, hung their head, and let Lincoln go.

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#bellamy x oc #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake imagines #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake #the 100 #the 100 imagines #the night our stars aligned (and our breaths touched) #my writing #writeblr #wip fanfic

[january-warlock]

Here’s one of the commissions I did for oblivianrose; they were happy enough for me to write a sequel, which I’ll post after this one. 

Ships: Josephine/Inquisitor, Hawke/Anders, Alistair/Warden

Summary: Three of Thedas’ biggest power players-the Hero of Ferelden, the Inquisitor, and the Champion of Kirkwall, meeto discuss the future of Thedas’ mages and how to proceed with the lingering threat of the Chantry. 

“Presenting Warden Commander Neria Surana, and the Champion of Kirkwall, Mara Hawke.” Josephine, her hair braided back with bright red flowers in it, was at the far right. Leliana was on the left, her face shrouded by her hood.

Inquisitor Kirstin Trevelyan was at the center; her silverite dagger was at her waist, and she still carried the smell of dragonthorn and royal elfroot that she used in her flasks during battle.

Neria’s years and experience showed on her face; they’d painted lines around her mouth and eyes, but she still carried a spring to her step. She was dressed in her Grey Warden silver and blue armor, with her grimoire that had a bright green tree on its cover at her hip.

“I don’t really go by ‘Champion’ anymore.” Mara said. She had her mother’s orange hair, her sharp blue eyes, and high cheekbones. “It’s not even Lady Hawke, technically.” With the dissolution of the Circles, all mages were now apostates, and with Hawke’s involvement with the destruction of Kirkwall’s Chantry, she was now a fugitive and had lost all claims to her title and estate.

“I’ll help if I can, Inquisitor. After you saved Alistair and Hawke in the Fade, I’ll do what I can for you.” Neria wasn’t sure how Kirstin had done it; she’d somehow fended off the massive fear demon with the Anchor, ripping it apart piece by piece, and allowing those with her to escape. And that was what convinced Neria to temporarily stop her search for a cure for the Blight to assist the Inquisitor.

“I appreciate it, Warden Commander.” Remembering the training provided to her by her own family and Josephine, Kirstin gave a low bow. “I appreciate your time and willingness to speak with me. You’re both here because we have all declared support for the mages of Thedas-a topic I’m sure is sensitive to both of you-and unfortunately, that support has angered many.” Those had been Leliana’s words, and she’d decided now, while they had the support of Orlais, was a good time to remedy the situation, lest it turn volatile. “And I’d like advice from all of you on how to handle the situation, in the Free Marches, Ferelden, and Orlais.”

“Silence the largest opponents in Orlais.” Leliana said. “A quick knife from behind makes no sense and prevents anymore.”

“Perhaps a reminder of the Chantry’s wrongdoings before we jump to the assassins?” Josephine said, giving Leliana a hard look. “The templars made a grand show of knocking a Chantry woman in front of the nobility, and the Chantry itself was more preoccupied with consolidating its own power before helping the commoners.”

“As for the Free Marches, remind them of Kirkwall, and its Circle.” Mara said. “And that if the Chantry had done its job, the rebellion and the Mage-Templar war wouldn’t have happened.”

Kirstin kept her posture straight, but she couldn’t help her sense of discomfort. She herself, with no magic to speak of, had never been subjected to the horrors of the Circle, her younger brother had, and the thought of him being thrown to those wolves made her skin crawl. “Is bringing up Kirkwall really the smartest move?” She asked, looking to Josephine. “A mage blew up their Chantry. That’s been the main point of any who speak out against mages.” Kirstin could see Mara’s glare out of the corner of her eye, but kept her focus on Josephine.

“The goal here is to erode the support of the Chantry, and increase the support of the mages to strengthen our own.” Josephine said. “Our ties to the mages of Thedas are bound in steel, and the Chantry will not take kindly to it.”

“We don’t have to remove the Chantry.” Leliana said, her face close to a glare. “They’re at a weak point, and with Orlais’ support behind us, they’re no threat.”

Neria looked across the table at her old friend; they’d fought side by side during the Blight, and despite Neria’s unending hatred for the Chantry, she’d found Leliana’s views interesting, and it had opened up her own. But that hadn’t changed her opinion of the institution itself. “The Chantry’s been a threat to Thedas since it’s conception, and not just to mages.” Neria’s elven ears poked through her orange hair; she remembered what it was like to leave the Circle, see the alienage, where elves lived in ghettos because of the Chantry, and the Dalish, who lived as nomads unable to find a permanent home because of the Chantry. And that the racism she experienced in and out of the Circle was also the fault of the Chantry’s.

“If it wasn’t for the Chantry, the Qunari would never have invaded Kirkwall. Elthina did what she always did, and turned a blind eye to Petrice, who instigated the Qunari.” Mara said, putting her hands on the war table. “I can put a message out to the Free Marches. The Chantry stood back and did nothing while innocent people suffered for over a decade, and not just the mages. Remember the late night raids on their families, executing people who supported the mages? Bullying the nobility to keep a new Viscount from being elected?”

“With all due respect, Lady Hawke, we’re aware of your relationship to Anders, the one who destroyed the Chantry in the first place. And we know that people know that you didn’t execute him when you had the chance.”

Mara opened her mouth to speak, but Neria cut her off. “I can’t blame her. Elthina got what she had coming, and the Chantry has nothing and no one to blame but its templars and its own inaction. Like how it did nothing during the Blight. The templars were more concerned with saving each other and murdering mages than anything else at Kinloch Hold.” Neria remembered the smell of blood and burning corpses, as the templars cowered behind a massive door, and Alistair had muttered “that cowering was definitely the templar ‘plan b.’” “I was there, and I remember every detail.” She looked over at Mara. “Did you know that the Chantry was busy looking for donations instead of helping the people of Lothering?”

Mara nodded. “I remember that the templars abandoned it.”

“If the mages of Thedas are going to have a future, the Chantry can’t have a say in it.” Neria said. “Your brother is a mage, ask him what he thinks.”

Kirstin didn’t have to. She knew her brother’s feelings on the Circle; he’d been rowdy and difficult, a frequent runaway, pushing his limits to see what he could get away with it. And he hadn’t been quiet or lighthearted about it when they finally met up again at Redcliffe. “My brother and I have already talked about at length on his time with the Circle.”

Leliana said nothing, and Kirstin let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, all of you, for your advice. I appreciate you taking the time to meet me, and I hope we’ll be in contact again soon.” Kirstin bowed again, and waved her hand. “You’re both dismissed, I need to discuss things with my advisors.”

---

Mara waited for Neria outside of the war room. The light coming in from the broken windows gave Neria a wondrous glow behind her. “Thoughts, Warden Commander?” She asked.

“My thoughts are that the Circles do not work. They’re not about helping mages, or anyone. The Chantry cares about the Chantry, and everything else is a smokescreen.” Neria tapped her staff on the floor. “And as grim a prospect as my future is, I’ll take a death fighting darkspawn that at the hands of a templar who didn’t like being told no.”

Mara nodded. She’d seen the collapse first-hand; things in Kirkwall had been far from fine, but those in power had been content to stand back and watch the fire burn, until something they cared about got caught in the blaze. She and the Warden shook hands before going down the hall together, but not saying a word.

Back in the war room, Kirstin faced Leliana and Josephine. “So we have our plan, then?”

“I’m not convinced going against the Chantry isn’t a mistake.” Leliana said. “If we can reform them, use our position to strengthen theirs, repair their relationship to the people, a reformed Chantry in our debt would be a powerful ally.”

“The Chantry’s been against us from the start, Leliana. And I believe in the Maker, but not the Chantry.” She sighed. “And they took my baby brother away from me. I missed out on his birthdays, watching him grow up, and he missed out a good portion of his life that he won’t get back.” She paused to gather herself. “But I shouldn’t let my personal feelings get in the way. What happens if we eliminate the Chantry?”

“We alone are an independent power in Thedas, which no doubt will make people nervous.” Josephine said. “If we do repair the Chantry, we could end up competing for influence, even if we’re the reason they still exist and every Chantry in Thedas didn’t end up with us using them to house refugees.”

“Table that suggestion.” Kirstin said, rubbing her temple, and feeling a headache coming on. “Either we further damage the Chantry’s reputation and use their buildings to help deal with the refugee crisis, or we tell the revered mothers to do that themselves if they want to fix their reputation.”

“We do have other leverage-the Chantry did nothing in the civil war, and with Orlais behind us,” They weren’t so much as “behind the Inqusition” as much as they were in the Inquisitor’s pocket. “One meeting with the Empress could shatter whatever support they have in Orlais.”

“I’ll draft some letters for Queen Anora, see what we want to do. But what about our mages?” Kirstin asked.

Josephine showed her the plans she’d drawn up a few hours before the meeting had started. “They’re safe. And if the Chantry goes, the reputation of mages will heal, with time. What we should do is have the mages interact with nobles and commoners alike. The healers could go to the Hinterlands, Crestwood, anywhere there’s a refugee situation, and show them the benefits of free mages. For the nobles of Orlais, show them the potential of mage scholars, and see who would be wiling to serve with their soldiers.”

Kirstin nodded. “I see. I need to think on this, see what direction would really be best.”

Kirstin left, closing the doors behind her and returned to her quarters, and set to burning prophet’s laurel for incense. As the sweet smell filled her room, she leaned back on her couch, her foot up on a stool, she undid her hair, enjoying the feeling of her hair no longer being bunched up. Hopefully, that would ease her headache before it turned into a migraine.

She was enjoying the warm, scented air and feeling her stress leave her when she heard quiet, light footsteps going up the stairs. For her brief training as a bard, Josephine hadn’t learned how to make herself completely silent.

“A copper for your thoughts?” Josephine asked, taking a seat next to her, and running her hands through Kirstin’s hair.

Kirstin let out a long sigh. “I’m just thinking. Life was a lot more simple a year ago, when I didn’t have to make decisions like this.” She laid her head back, enjoying the feeling of Josephine’s fingers on her head. “I can’t see the future, I don’t know what the right thing to do is.”

Josephine nodded sympathetically. “You must go with your heart, my love. It’s as you said, you can’t see the future; you can just do what you think is right.”

“That’s easier when it’s just me being effected, not all of Thedas.” That was the hardest part of being Inquisitor; each of her actions was like throwing a stone in the water, and it was hard to determine who would be effected by the ripples. She inched closer to the other woman, wrapping her arms around her. She took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of her head being on Josephine’s shoulders. “I should send up for some wine. And we take a moment for just the two of us.”

“There’s an Antivan vintage I’ve been meaning to share with you for ages now. Straight from the Montilyet wine cellar.” Josephine draped her legs over Kirstin’s. “Made from the finest red grapes in Antivan vineyards.”

“That sounds exactly what I need.” Kirstin kissed Josephine’s forehead, then the tip of her nose, her jawline, her mouth. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Well, that’s not something you’ll ever find out.” Josephine smiled as she leaned in to kiss the Inquisitor again.

---

Outside, Mara had bid a quick hug and goodbye to Varric, and slipped into a cloak that was large enough to hide her features. She took the long way around to the back of Skyhold, until she came to a steep cliff. There was a massive boulder at the end with rope tied around it. She’d gone in through the “front door” for lack of a better term, but she couldn’t risk anyone seeing where she was going-or with whom. Too many soldiers in the Inqusition loyal to the Chantry and the Maker. Tying a loop around her waist, she began the long scale down.

Anders was waiting in a small cave, bundled up with furs to ward against the cold. He’d aged a bit since Kirkwall; wrinkles more prominent around his face, his hair color starting to fade, but seemed so much healthier than he was in Kirkwall. Less thin, less on edge, despite being a fugitive wanted by half of Thedas. “How did it go, love?”

“I pushed for the Inquisition to weaken and eventually end the Chantry.” Mara said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But the Inquisition is keeping the mages safe, and Lady Josephine is doing what she can to help them adjust to life outside the Circles, and get people to see what free mages could do for them.”

Anders smiled, kissing her forehead. “So, worth putting yourself in danger. If Cullen or any good Inquisition soldier saw me, they might just kill me on the spot.”

“But they didn’t see you, and nobody knows you’re here, not even Varric. But we should literally make tracks and keep walking. We should be in the Anderfels as soon as possible. I believe Neria and Alistair are headed that way too, but we’ll attract less attention if we split up.”

“And neither of them care who I am, or what I did?”

“Neria hates the Chantry as much as I do; she won’t say a word.”

She took Anders’ hand in hers, and when she looked into his eyes, for just a moment, she could see their past-the easier days in Kirkwall, when it was just running and killing, before the templars, and Carver joining the Grey Wardens, when things were not always good, but better. She wasn’t certain she’d ever see Kirkwall again, or that she even wanted to.

She didn’t know what was in their future; she didn’t think there would ever be a point where Anders wouldn’t be a wanted criminal, unless they went to Rivain, where the Chantry wasn’t welcome and mages were. But whatever happened, she would not be parted from him, come what may.

Neria stood in front of the former Grand Enchanter, Fiona in the library of Skyhold. She looked all of her years, lines in her dark skin, but she didn’t seem even slightly weary. Neria could see the fire in her eyes that inspired her to start the mage rebellion. “And you have no idea what made you stop being a Warden?”

Neria hadn’t heard of Fiona until a few years of her being in the Wardens had passed. But even then, she’d be astounded to learn that there was someone who avoided their Calling. “No. Whatever it was, it also meant that I couldn’t do the Joining again. And without my Warden capabilities, I returned to the Circles to free our people.”

“You lost your ability to be a Warden, but willingly returned to the Circle?”

“To help our fellow mages. I saw plenty of their cruelty firsthand, and I would do anything if it meant freeing our people of it.” She could see orange and red flicker across her warm brown eyes. Neria didn’t believe her when she said that didn’t know what cured her of the Blight, but she didn’t know her well enough to press it.

“Warden Commander, is it true that your friend Alistair is a Warden?” Fiona asked.

“He’s more than a friend,” Neria smiled. “But yes, he is a Warden. Why?”

“Nothing-just curious about the routes that life take.”

That was something Neria was curious about, but she bowed her head. “Thank you, Fiona. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again.”

After saying goodbye to Fiona, she was on the outside of Skyhold, Neria had covered herself up against the cold as best as she could. With her business done with the Inqusition-for good, hopefully-this time, she was free to further pursue the cure for the calling.

She opened up her book filled with her notes.

After what occurred at our keep all those years ago, I’ve been certain that the Calling isn’t the death sentence we’ve believed it to be. My own knowledge of the Blight and Warden training is limited, but after my study of high dragons and the properties of their blood, I’m convinced that they would somehow be involved with a cure.

I’ve done several autopsies on their bodies, and each time, I’ve found cysts resembling the Blight, as if the dragons were guarding against its influence. I’ve tried using high dragon blood in my experiments, but no results so far. There’s some component or something else that I’m missing.

Hopefully, Weisshaupt would have what she needed. Perhaps something in the Archives that had been missed. But she wanted to go through Soldier’s Peak first, stop by its libraries and go over Avernus’ notes. He’d kept himself alive well past his prime, and, with her and Alistair’s Callings fast approaching, she was in constant fear. The Blight would not take them as it had so many others.

#dragon age #alistair x warden #josephine x inquisitor #hawke x anders #mage rights #my writing #commissions

[daydreamindollie]

[k.sj x f.r] The Boxed Lunch Mystery

Genre: Fluffy Fluffy Unicorn

Length: 8k

Quick Summary: After recieving a delicious boxed lunch for Valentines day, Jin is determined to find the one who stole his heart with nothing except sweet words and, of course, food

▷ mini.sequel: Three Kisses

"Why are you looking like that Hyung?" Jimin enquired. There was no reason for his elder to be so nonchalant over the gifts he was being showered with from multiple people; people that admired him as the moral man that he was; people that hope he'd apprehend their deep infatuation for him; people that simply want him to know that he is a wonderful person.

"'Looking like' what?" Jin hummed as he organised the wrapped presents addressed to him.

"Unenthusiastic," Namjoon concluded, freeing Jimin of his struggle in finding the right term.

"Exactly!" Jimin stared in wonder up at his senior, "You should be happy that so many people admire you." spotting and reading a label of a single rose that was robbed of its prickling thorns, Jimin's brows flung to his hairline, "Boys too!"

Jin chuckled but shook his head, "I am happy."

"I sense a 'but'." Yoongi mused, earning a nod, which he smirked at, "See? - I'm always right."

"It's just that, they're all store bought. For all I know, they could have just gotten this without a single thought of me in their heads at all." his exaggerated sigh brought no relief.

"Try to, at least, look happy; people are watching." Hoseok whispered with cautious eyes darting everywhere else before finally locking with Jin's own orbs, "Also, it's Valentines - a holiday - people have to be happy."

"Tell that to everyone that's single." Yoongi shot back in a grunt.

Raising himself, out of his seat, Jin lifted the generous gifts of others into his arms before announcing that he was heading to place them into his locker.

"We should do the same thing boys." Namjoon suggested, "All the staring is kind of getting to me now." with the agreement of everyone else, the handsome group of men made their way out of the dining hall, and into the corridors that took them to their row of lockers.

Upon approaching his unguarded locker, Jin's eyes quickly noted how its metal door was left ajar. Surely, people had more respect than that. No one had ever raided anybody else's locker as it would result in a harsh punishment from the school board, that's why there was never a reason to implement a lock and key, so why would someone invade his and his alone? Hoping that none of his belongings had been stolen, Jin stepped up and pulled back the door with an optimistic outlook.

There, in the middle of his locker, was a pastel-pink bento box, which had a golden crown to accommodate its centre as it's the only form of decoration.

Had someone voluntarily cooked him lunch?

Choosing to multitask, Jin attentively took the box out, during which he haphazardly transferred the other gifts inside. His full attention was on that innocent, plain bento lunch - there was nothing else around him that required as much attention anyway. This was surely for him and him alone so he turned his back to his friends and successfully shielded their view from what was only meant for him, before gently lifting the lid.

A scent so warm and loving immediately conquered his senses, with it was the most mouthwatering sight he had ever seen. It was clear to him that the chef of this masterpiece had taken their time in the presentation; everything was so well placed and so full of colour. Every small portion was something different, nestling in its own allocated place. There was a scoop of fluffy rice, peppered with a small helping of seasoning; several rolled up, sunshine-yellow egg omelettes; crisply cooked salmon chunks; a boiled egg that was cut in half with a pinch of salt crystals atop it; a small collection of half-cooked vegetables; a little helping of chopped fruit; happy looking sausage octopi, and fried chicken breasts, coated in golden bread crumbs. Jin couldn't believe his eyes, this was the first homemade gift he had received from someone. Resisting the urge to scarf his glorious meal down now, he thought it best to save until the proper time for lunch and went to put the lid back on when he caught sight of a note, taped to the back of the lid.

He made sure that the boys didn't see him with the box but kept the note and read it as soon as he had closed the door to his personal belongings, alongside the bento, which rested vigilantly atop everything else.

At the unfolding of every made crease, Jin couldn't help the feverish palpitations of his heart.

'Dear Jin,

I hope you like the lunch I prepared for you. I made it with you in mind, of course, but please don't feel offended if it doesn't suit your taste and end up not liking it.'

Jin laughed; there was no way he could ever feel offended by this. It was such a sweet gesture, and he appreciates that more than anything - he was a man that always believed in the thought mattering much more than the actual gift, after all.

'Anyway, I've wanted to say this for a while but have never truly had the courage to tell you in person. You may call me a coward, and I agree with that because this is such a spineless confession.’

‘Despite that, I really want to get this off my chest one way or another, because holding it in is suffocating me.' Jin eagerly reads on, driven and fuelled by curiosity as well as elation.

'I love you.'

He was suddenly breathless. In a rapturous sense. It was the addictive kind. One that people in love would consistently suffer from. It took him a moment to regain himself but swiftly continued on.

'I've loved you for a long while now.’

‘The more I got to know about you, and the more times I had had the pleasure to spend with you, only made me sink deeper into this uncontrollable infatuation.’

‘Everything that you are, and will be, is what I fell in love with.'

There were butterflies creating a storm that arose from the pit of his stomach, they brought about a ticklish sensation with how they were brushing their delicate wings everywhere. All because of the words he was reading.

How curious...

'You're a gorgeous man, in looks and in personality. I know that anybody would be lucky to call you theirs; I definitely will.’

‘But...’

His heart contracted painfully. There was a hesitancy in reading further but he had to, it was the least he could do after all that you had done for him.

'I have no right to ever call you mine, and I'm sure that you will find deep embarrassment in calling me yours.’

‘I am not worthy of any affection from you.'

You had cooked him a beautiful meal, made him feel butterflies and had him soaring to the high heavens with the words of a letter, he needed to repay you in some way.

Why weren't you letting him decide for himself whether or not you were truly deserving?

'And so I shall keep my identity a secret.'

There was a growth of desperation within him. It seems as if all that he will ever seem to desire from now on is to know your true identity.

Why were you being so unfair?

'Knowing you, you will wash this bento box and keep it in your locker for me to retrieve tomorrow. I shall not protest as it's the least I can do to apologise for keeping my name a secret.'

You truly must know him if you were able to denote his following actions, and, although he should find the connotations disturbing, he could only feel comfort.

Knowing that you were already well acquainted with him, instead of impetuously proclaiming your love, he couldn't bring himself to dislike you for your secrecy.

'Please eat healthily, rest well and laugh often.

I love you very very much, and all that I wish is for you to be happy.

Sincerely yours,

x x x'

Three kisses.

You owe him three kisses.

He wasn't going to let this go - with what little grasp he has on you - until you've delivered those three kisses to him.

The lunch he was blessed with was truly worth the wait and had to be savoured. Everything was well seasoned; the textures were spot on; there were fulfilling bursts of flavour upon every bite and when combined together, Jin was sent to the cloud nine of food. Someone this talented at cooking deserved to be known and merits their every desired wish to be executed, unfortunately, Jin wasn't intending to go along and satisfy yours.

He has to know you who you are.

But how?

He had just washed the bento box, thinking about how he would ever be able to find out your true identity but with nothing coming to mind, he opted on rereading the letter at his desk. For a moment, he considered doing his homework early before writing back to the people that had delivered gifts to him, until he came across a particular line.

'...your locker for me to retrieve tomorrow...'

At that sentence, he immediately sprouted an ingenious idea and got to work, animatedly writing away on a piece of paper. He will place his little notice in the bento box. When you open it and spot the letter, he hopes that you'll regard his proposition favourably.

'I need to know who you are.’

‘Let me decide for myself whether or not you really aren't worthy of affection.’

‘If I conclude that you are deserving, then I will call you mine and you will call me yours.’

‘All I need are clues as to who you are.’

‘Please.’

‘I need to know your identity.’

‘Yours,’

‘Jin’

‘x x x'

Of course, he made it mandatory to return your three kisses

The entire sequence of events seemed like a cliche movie plot but he was happy to know that you were up for his little investigation. Like clockwork, you had replied to his proposal, it came in a pastel pink post-it note, which stuck itself to the back of his locker door.

'I suppose that would be okay.’

‘I think it would assure me to know what you truly consider me as, rather than just leaving my confession, a confession.’

‘I will give you a clue every week.’

‘There will only be 6.’

‘If you try to find out who I am before my 6th clue is given, then I shall call this whole ordeal off.’

‘I only want to make sure that you know who I truly am before you attempt approaching me.’

‘If you get my identity wrong, even with the 6 clues given, I shall tell you through a note but will never call you out angrily for it.’

‘The only thing I'll do is stop every and any form of contact with you - everything.’

‘I will not torture myself more than I have to.'

It wasn't you torturing yourself.

He knew that it was all because of his imprudence that you were having to suffer, but he can't help being selfish. You were already worth more to him than every other person that had previously confessed with extravagance to him. Your confession was special, purely because it exhibited an attribute he's wanted in a girl - a loving cook.

A whimsical image flashed behind his daydreaming lids. A future where he'll hug your figure from behind whilst you slaved over the stove, and upon resting his chin atop your sculpted shoulder, you turn to lean upwards and place a searing kiss onto his cheek. A frown urged his lips downwards, however, at the fact that he couldn't place a face or name to the girl he was envisioning in his arms. Suddenly, there was a sense of determination that rose up and oppressed his dismay - a resolve in finding you.

"This girl must be really special," Namjoon commented with a hum of contemplation, earning a nod of approval.

Glancing up at his Hyungs, Jungkook frowns in confusion, "It doesn't make sense though."

"Why?" Jin raised a brow as their quaint trio approached his locker during their lunch break.

"You don't even know her. How can you say that she's special to you if you don't know anything about her?"

Jin grinned simply, which confused the young boy as much as his elder's following statement did. "I just know that she's someone I should care about."

"You usually make sense Hyung, but today, you're not making any." Jungkook's frown was met by an open laugh as Jin pulled his locker open.

"You'll know when you're older." upon finally turning his gaze to the inside of his locker, Jin's eyes instantaneously brightened.

There was another boxed lunch.

It had been a week since his previous one and he was starting to get worried about whether or not you had changed your mind. In spite of his paranoia, he believed that he should just be patient. Thank goodness it had finally paid off.

Taking out the boxed lunch, he allowed the two beside him to awe at the sight of its contents as he hurriedly read the note taped to the back of the lid once more.

'Clue 1:’

‘In our first meeting, you were so kind - I couldn't help falling in love' Is this it?

Jin frowned at the vast emptiness surrounding the simple sentence. He turned the slip of paper over, anticipating more but there was nothing and his heart fell.

"Woah! Did your Eomma make that lunch for you Hyung?" Jungkook awed, staring at the bento lunch, disregarding the fact that his friend was preoccupied with the innocuous note.

"No...it's from that girl..." he was still frowning.

"No wonder she's special then!" Namjoon grinned, "I can't believe she made you lunch! It looks so good too." the bleach-blonde turned his stare to the youngest and quirked a brow of amusement. "Do you understand why she's considered special now, Kookie?"

Jungkook attempted to see himself in Jin's shoes, "I guess it would be nice for a girl to make lunch for me. Cooking skills are always a bonus quality for a girl." Jin should have really gotten irritated at the statement, feeling quite assaulted with the concept of having somebody, as perfect as the Maknae of his group, already wanting to steal you away before he's even gotten an image of you.

This clue was too generic. It could've happened to any number of girls. Acquainted with his attractive appearance, Jin has seen a good number of females fall to their knees before him in the confession of their love, so it wasn't anything knew that someone would think 'love at first sight' when brushing a glance at him. By all means, this wasn't him being conceited, only exasperated at the clue's inadequacy.

"Is that from her too?" Namjoon quipped as he glanced over Jin's broad shoulders.

"Yeah...It's a clue to find out who she is, but it's too comprehensive. I don't think I know anything more about her than I did yesterday." frustrated, Jin groaned before placing the note into his blazer pocket and staring down at the open bento with perplexed brows.

"Is it okay if I read it?"

"No, it's alright."

"Great." reading the passage, Namjoon questioned everything. "At least you know that she has readable penmanship." he grinned before looking further into the use of words.

"That's one thing, but all girls always apply great amounts of effort into everything they do, so naturally, they all have neat handwriting." another sigh, "I don't think you can figure out anything else though-"

"Actually..." Namjoon purred with a glint of fascination in his eyes - it was as if the conclusion he had come to was simply, pure genius and he couldn’t help being proud of it. "You can tell another thing from it."

"What's that?" Jungkook mused in interest, trying to catch a glance of the paper.

"She thinks you're kind."

Jin's brows knotted into a chaotic cluster, it was a confusion shared between him and the maknae, "Now, you're not making any sense either Hyung."

"Just let me explain." Jin leaned in with perked ears, with the notion that, if he was to do so, then he'd be able to understand better.

" 'In our first meeting, you were so kind...I couldn't help falling in love.' " he recited, "This means that your first meeting had you behaving kindly towards her. It also connotes that she finds your personality more attractive than your outward appearance." Namjoon chuckled, "She's definitely someone special."

Heart fluttering, cheeks warming and stomach churning, Jin grinned in elation. You weren't only the first person to cook him the most memorable and beautiful lunch he had ever had but was also the first one to consider his charisma more than his looks at the first meeting.

"She certainly is.." and Jin could tell that Jungkook was in full agreement with the both of them too. The only thing he had to do was think back to a time where he had significantly changed the course of a girl's day, simply by being kind.

He was running late but his parents had already phoned the school to apprise his unpunctuality, perfectly reasoning that they had been away for the weekend and due to traffic, would be arriving later than they had planned. It wasn't a big deal because Jin was a well-behaved student that was respected (equally by the students and teachers) as if he were a member of staff, he also hasn't missed a single minute of school before, and so, was confident that they'd let this minor slip up, go.

Late.

This was a first for him.

It was a strange but somewhat exhilarating feeling - though, he's sure that he only feels that way because he knows that he wouldn't be getting into any trouble. If it was certain that he would be suffering punishment, then he would definitely be feeling sick.

Taking the path of stairs two steps at a time, Jin, in spite of his fair reasonings, still aimed to get to class as quickly as possible, that is, until he came across a whimpering figure collapsed atop the last few steps. Observant as he was, he quickly noted her discombobulated positioning and candid sniffles. Instantly flourishing sentimental concern for the female, he approached her with swift feet.

"Miss, are you okay?" he had lightly touched her shoulder and upon turning her head to look up at him, he found himself biting back a murmur of admiration.

‘What an adorable face...’

"I-I.."

Her voice was so sweet to his ears that shivers were sent dancing down his spine in bursts of musical surges. The additional image of her innocent, frail look did nothing to ease the strange sensation either.

Quickly shaking his head to deal with the situation more seriously, Jin crouched down to her eye level. She's so much cuter up close, "Don't tell me you fell on the steps..."

"I think I twisted my ankle..." Jin gave her a stern look, similar to the one parents gave when about to scold their misbehaving children, "I-I didn't want to be late again..." she's so adoringly timid that his eyes softened considerably.

"Well, there's no need to worry about that now; classes are almost over anyway. We have to focus on getting you to the school nurse for the meantime." shuffling to a kneeling position before her, locking his feet and limbs in a way that assured his gravity securely, Jin reached his arms back ever so slightly, and gently tried to coax her into his backwards cradle, "I'll give you a piggy back ride to her office."

"Y-you don't have to.."

"Well, I want to, so you don't have a choice." he firmly asserted, inching back just slightly as he glanced over his shoulder to comfortingly smile at her, "Don't keep me waiting here, princess." he was tempted to chuckle at her spluttering but he had already embarrassed her enough, and so, with courtesy, he turned everything down several notches. On the way to the office, he didn't find her almost choking him around the neck like most girls would, and although he found it odd, he was delightfully intrigued. "Why aren't your arms around my shoulders and neck? Surely that would be more comfortable for you." he looked down at the petite hands grasping onto his school dress shirt. From where they gripped at his covered chest, he let his eyes wander up to where they hooked themselves just under his pits

"O-Oh...well, I don't want to end up choking you or something."

'But you're grip around me is so feather-like, that would be impossible'.

Jin suppressed a wide grin, turning it into a meagre but bright smile with a bite of his lip.

"You won't."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He waited patiently - still walking - as she pulled an arm back to fasten the bend of her elbow over his shoulder before doing the same with the remaining arm. "Is that better?" he asked gently.

"Y-yeah..."

"Good."

"Thank you for being so kind to me...uh.."

"It's Seokjin, but you can call me Jin."

"I'm (Y/N)..thank you, again Jin." he smiled at how enchantingly she had called his name.

"You're welcome (Y/N)."

It took a long week until his second clue was delivered, he was supporting high hopes of it being more revealing than the previous one and, by now, his entire friendship group had been informed of the circumstances. The pestering from the youthful bunch was vexing but his mind was too obsessed over the subsequent clues' possible implications, that he didn't bat a single eyelash at them.

"If she's really pretty then I'm going to have to steal her away from you Hyung." Jimin teased as he bit into his school lunch. "Somebody who's as pretty as their cooking is a 'one-in-a-million' kind of girl."

"You're right about that, but I'm not letting you have her." Jin grumbled, circling his arms around the bento, "and besides, she already has me."

As Jimin pouted playfully, Taehyung was kept poking at his Hyung with the same question: "Can I have a taste?", "Hyung, will you let me taste test it for you?", "Just one bite..-or maybe two..or three..if you let me have four, I’ll let you have some of my lunch!", "Please please please?".

"I've said this a million times - no."

"But you always share with us."

Jin turned away from his petulant face, "Well, I'll share everything except this, she intended this to only be for me after all. I want this just for myself too, is that too much to ask?"

"I guess not." Taehyung slumped in his chair before mournfully nibbling away at his own, drab lunch.

"What does the clue say this time Hyung?" the most respectful maknae mused with a curious glint in his doe eyes. The atmosphere was suddenly so very quiet, all in the wait for Jin to read out his second clue.

'Clue 2:’

‘I was sad in our second encounter, but you made me laugh and I was so grateful.'

"How can you make anybody laugh?" Yoongi snorted, "Your Dad jokes are as horrible as Taehyung's cooking skills."

The entire table laughed, except for Taehyung - who only whined but eventually joined in - and Jin, who remained transfixed on recollecting multiple memories of girls he's shared his dad jokes with.

"Actually..there's was this one girl..."

It was that cute girl again.

She was sitting alone, on a wooden bench, her frame so petite that her feet barely touched the ground, an image that made him chuckle softly.

It could have been any mental prompt, but he ended up taking a step towards her, and then two, three, four...Five...Ten...Twelve....until he finally arrived at her side. There was no acknowledgement of his presence from her, which he found strange, but shortly discovered the culprit of her distraction - there was a stream of tears falling down her face.

"Is everything okay?" he instantaneously asked at his shocking discovery.

Snapping her head towards him in shock, her plump, pink petals for lips, shaped themselves into an 'o' as her surprise slowly left her. Hurriedly wiping at her tears with the sleeve of her jumper, she allowed her dainty voice to call out to him, "I-It's you again..."

"Yeah..." he took a seat beside her, pulled her hands away and mopped up her tears after retrieving a packet of tissues from his otherwise empty blazer pocket.

"Th-thank you."

He shook his head softly with a tender gaze as a way of saying that it was alright, "Will you be okay in telling me what's wrong?" She turned her head no, unable to meet his worrisome gaze. Did she feel guilty for having him fretting over her? "Not even a little...?" he benevolently pressed.

Eventually, her eyes reconnected with his - just briefly - before she took the time to pull her comparatively small face out of his giant hands, "I guess I've just had the worst day of my life." he was about to speak words of comfort when she sufficed the gesture for him, "I hope it'll only get better from now on."

"I'm sure it will..."

A silence followed but it wasn't the awkward kind. No. It was a cosy sort, the one between two close friends when preoccupied, but still appreciative of each other's presence...or, between multiple people as they stare up and admire a firework display...or even between two lovers watching the sunset-

"Do you want to hear a dad joke?" he suddenly asked but swiftly second-guessed himself at the quizzical look she sends him. "Uh...that was random!..I'm sorry-"

"You're right about the offer being out of the blue.. but don't worry," he sighed in relief, but had to hold back a blush at her tinkling giggle, "feel free to do so though, I love them." assured that he wouldn't be doing anything wrong, he proceeded to jest, pleasantly surprised at her open appreciation of everything he attempts. Unsatisfied with just one, he continued to tell her more..and more and more and more and more - merely craving her star-like laughter. Her laugh was such a pleasant one that he wanted to capture and store it away in a securely fastened box so that he'd be able to hear it at any time of day. He's so sure that he'd never grow tired of it.

"What's a runaway strawberry?........ Strawberry jam."

She laughed as beautifully as the stars.

"Hamburgers...what colour are they?....BURGUNDY! BURGUNDY!"

In a fit of hysterics, she clutched at her stomach as she doubled over, almost falling off the bench if it weren't for Jin holding her up as he laughed along with her.

"RIP boiled water...you will be Mist."

Admittedly he laughed at his own jokes before she did, but it was still a joyous experience to have her laughing beside him.

She was able to guess several of them though...

"Do you know what dead sesame is?.."

"-Freckles?"

Before the usual look of disappointment could take charge of his features, he laughed and agreed that her answer was right, which had them equally laughing. It was strange but having her already knowing the answer to his jokes was uplifting, in a sense, because he was bizarrely able to unmask some solace in the discernment of them sharing the same humour.

Minutes before, he had seen her crying tears of distress but now, she was laughing herself to tears of euphoria. It brought him so much pride and joy to affirm that it was all because of him.

Again, another week needed to pass before the next note was to be delivered, but he still wasn't allowed to seek you out freely until the 6th clue was given - it was all a test of his patience. Usually, he would be willing to wait but with the wicked taunting and impish advice from several of his friends, his tolerance for the wait was gradually being rolled thin, like the dough of a thin-crust pizza.

Thankfully, he was able to resist his developing urges enough for the 3rd clue.

"What does it say? What does it say?!" Taehyung begged from the seat beside him, breathing into his ear in the manner of a laboured dog.

"I'm getting to it! Just move back!" Jin chuckled, waiting for his friend to lean away before clearing his throat and reading off of the paper.

'Clue 3:’

‘When we met for the 3rd time, you got me to love cooking.'

"Oh, so it's because of you that she's taken up cooking." Namjoon sunk into a deep thought.

"That narrows it down to the people in your extracurricular cookery club, doesn't it?" Yoongi hummed.

"Yeah, that's right," Jin confirmed, savouring another well-presented, delicious meal. There was even a homemade cupcake for him at the very side, which stretched a grin across his lips. He decided to save it for last, a task that was proven quite difficult with the persistent, sneaking hands of his disrespectful dongsaengs. "Hands off!" Jin moaned in frustration, "It's for me." with their grumblings and ultimate retreat, Jin relaxed and started thinking.

"You really can't cook can you?" Jin laughed in amusement.

"I-I wanted to try something new..." his gaze softened at her downcast appearance before he proceeded to relieve several of her struggles. He turned the heat down, cleared up her surfaces a bit and laid her prepared ingredients accordingly, before talking her through what she should be doing.

She was a fast learner, he noted but was still curious about why she suddenly changed her extracurricular activity at the library, for something she wasn't as experienced with. There was a slight understanding of her 'wanting to try something new' excuse, but any other person wouldn't sacrifice their comfort for something that they could never match up to by themselves. Try watching a child happily exchange their favourite toy for someone else's. It certainly would be a refreshing sight, but a rare one too.

Clearly, she was working hard to get along with the task smoothly; her brows were furrowed in intense concentration; her eyes solely trained on everything going on in front of her; her hands slightly jittering from time to time in an attempt in permanently being ready for action, and she was actually breaking a sweat, pulling her loose ponytail tighter whilst tucking free strands of hair behind her ear.

"You're doing really well."

Was that a blush on her cheeks?

"Th-thank you."

"You deserve it. It's really brave of you to try something you're so inexperienced at." the compliment brought back his question, "Why did you suddenly want to start something so new anyway?"

"I thought...I thought I could end up liking something else." It still sounded very much like an excuse but Jin believed that she would open up when she was ready, so he didn't press any further.

"So?...." she hummed curiously, looking up at him from her gaze on the working pot, "Did you end up liking it?"

She smiled cutely, a tint of pink dusting her ample cheeks, "Very much so, yes." her eyes momentarily drifted down a few mere centimetres before quickly reconnecting with his gaze.

"I'm glad."

They shared a genuine smile.

"Me too..."

There are only three more females to go through when accounting the connotations of all the clues so far. They were all in his cooking classes after school and had been able to taste all of their cooking creations due to a monthly cooking and eating day, where everyone did just that - they would cook a dish from home and allow others to try it. Certainly, it was his most favoured event of the club, especially if people enjoyed his cooking and he was able to enjoy theirs.

The first is Kim Mina. She was pretty tall for her a girl but was - thankfully - just about shorter than Jin. Her eyes were acutely angled and she had a dimpled smile, which always made her eyes disappear into sharp crescents.

One problem limiting her chances of being his secret admirer was the fact that, no matter what she did, nothing ever seemed to go well for her in the kitchen. There was a time where she left the water boiling too long and ended up with less than half of the amount of water needed to boil her spaghetti noodles in, and so she had to boil more water again. Not only that, but just a few days ago, when she had tried to cut an onion, the knife skidded off it's glossed curves and sent the purple vegetable flying across the room. Certainly, there's more to say about her misfortunes in the kitchen, but the evidence has already ruled her out, so there's no point in contemplating over the matter any further.

The second contestant is Pak Areum - one of the beauties of the school. With a fair complexion, distinctive facial features and gentle eyes, she's had several males chasing after her during her years in high school.

It would certainly be a pleasure to have her as his admirer but she's definitely off the list, simply because of the fact that she burns everything! From the food to the pans, she seems to have an art in setting anything ablaze. The only offender to blame is her habit of going into a daze. Her daydreams lasted long enough for chard bitterness to begin coating her equipment and food, it isn't until smoke begins to billow upwards and suffocate the room that she thinks: 'when was the last time I checked on my cakes?'. It was an awful sight to witness. Also, her seasoning is always off, her only excuse being that she liked strong flavours. Her tastes were so unlike the delicate flavouring of the beautiful foods he's been receiving in the bento box.

The third and last suspect is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) - a quiet but charming person with lots of natural aegyo. She honestly doesn't know how endearing she is because it all seems to come spontaneously to her, to add onto that, she's also very hard working, as seen through the progress of her cooking skills. At first, she didn't know what on earth she was doing or how to work herself around the kitchen area, but she was able to adapt to her circumstances quickly with some guidance, and in the blink of an eye, she was engaging in amazing cuisine all on her own.

If it was her-

"Hyung, what's the clue this time?" Taehyung enquired, his mouth full of chewed-up cafeteria food.

"Don't eat with your mouth full." Jin softly warned, which earned an apology that completely disregarded his advice anyway - he didn't wait to swallow before apologising.

"So?.." Yoongi pressed with tired lids but participating eyes after Jin was finished with pulling a disgusted face at his immature dongsaeng.

'Clue 4:

Our 4th run in wasn't ideal but you made it perfect.'

"What is that supposed to mean?" Yoongi grumbled in dismay as Jin instinctively disregarded the swell of emotion in order to focus on figuring out who it could be.

"Looks like you're the reason for her days being brighter." Namjoon teased, eliciting a flush of pink from the eldest's ample cheeks.

"Can you think of it being anyone?" Hoseok leaned forward in anticipation.

"Not at the top of my head, no...I'm sure that I'll be able to conclude it soon though."

"You hope," Yoongi grumbled negatively.

"No!" Jimin quickly cut in, "He knows that he'll be able to tell soon enough. It seems like they know each other pretty well already, don't you think?"

As the boys, busied themselves with enthusiastic gossip over what they think would happen next, Jin zoned them out and pondered deeply. His fourth meeting with Mina was him congratulating her on being a member of a winning volley ball team in a tournament between schools so that ruled her out, and for Areum, it was when she had been dating yet another boy and was gushing about how she feels that he was 'the one', so she was definitely unsuitable.

(Y/N), however...

When out shopping for ingredients, there was a sudden, abrupt crash at the end of the aisle Jin was in.

At its unforeseen occurrence, it was able to attract all the passer-by-ers' attention but none reached out to help. Upon turning to the frenzied whisper of apologies coming from the mess, Jin was met with the winsome sight of you, picking up multiple cans and endeavouring to fix the avalanche. Feeling his heart clench at the image before him, Jin ached to help you out, which he did after several long, swift strides in your direction.

"I'm so clumsy!" you stressed, whispering airily, "I'm so so sorry..." he was sure that it was for any staff member that had witnessed the mishap but there was no one, only shoppers that didn’t even offer to help.

"It's alright." Jin chuckled, briefly hearing you breathe his name in acknowledgement when you had finally lifted your gaze from the strewn soup cans, "I'm sure it was an accident." he looked up and around for a moment before smiling at you, "Hopefully, none of the staff finds us, but just to be sure, we should hurry up."

In spite of your subsequent nod of agreement, you were harshly biting your bottom lip as your eyes pooled with a thick trickle of embarrassment, accompanying your flustered face. He just knew that you would be insulting yourself mentally, which really shouldn't be the case because people always made mistakes, and so it was an understandable circumstance that anyone can relate to. With an urge to comfort your vulnerability, Jin quickly proceeded to 'accidentally' knock the small tower he had made with the sharpness of his elbow.

The clattering of cans paved the path for the publication of suppressed, loose laughter - music to his ears. Holding back a grin, he pulled an innocent face.

"Oops." he behaved sheepishly.

"I guess we're both pretty clumsy." you tittered in delight.

"And you guessed right." through the lie, Jin chortled before bathing in the wonderful feeling your relieved smile brought him.

It took several minutes to restock the tower of cans but upon its completion, you and Jin smiled at each other and concurrently sighed blissfully at the alleviation of pressure on your knees and lower back. There was a moment of comfortable silence that you benignly broke after several moments, your eyes glittering under fluorescent light with lips appearing softer than velvet rose petals.

"I appreciate your comfort...but you honestly didn't have to lie about your supposed clumsiness earlier." he was flabbergasted, eyes wide and unbelieving at the fact that you were able to figure him out. With a bell-like giggle, your face visibly flushed whilst relaxing under his gaze, "You're never clumsy."

"Could you have at least kept the fact that you knew, to yourself? Now, I'm the one that's embarrassed..."

Breaking out into another small trickle of laughter, you shook your head, "I just had to say thank you..."

Your smile was dazzling.

"...you're welcome."

Another week, another clue.

He didn't need it though, Jin was sure to himself that he knew who it was, and although he respected his admirer's desire in waiting up to the 6th and final clue, his patience had already been rolled out too thin. His forbearance was already as weightless and translucent as tissue paper - he can't wait any longer.

"Why don't you just confront her?" Jimin suggested, sipping at a small carton of milk with a hum of content.

"Because it was part of our deal." Jin groaned.

"Which was...?"

"For me to wait until the 6th clue to go searching for her."

Jimin hummed thoughtfully, his brows furrowing and delving into a world of deep brooding, he had no good suggestion to help his elder but did his hardest to be helpful. He assumed that he would be struck by a major idea soon. There was righteousness in his bright outlook because the idea quite literally struck him - that idea being Taehyung.

"Woah! Sorry, Jiminnie!" Taehyung held back a grin but failed anyway, and reached out to pat his friend on the head, "I didn't see you there; you were so short!" just like each of his previous attempts at annoying his friends (and succeeding), the tall male quickly manoeuvred to sprint away, however, unlike all of his past attempts, there was something holding him back. Like a freak tsunami, his face suddenly turned very pale, very quickly and it was terrifying (but still amusing) to discern that he was able to realise his imminent doom. "I'mSoSorry!PleaseDon'tHurtMe!I'llBuyYouLunchForTheEntireMonth!CrossMyHeartHopeToD-"

"You're a genius Taehyung!"

"I am?..."

"He is?..."

"You're right - he isn't-"

"Hey!"

"But he gave me a really good idea!"

Jin felt like a child that knew he was doing something wrong and would eventually get into trouble for it but there was also a presence of negligence to the potential consequence. All he wants is just to see and finally confront his anonymous admirer. It's been a month and a week!

He. Can't. Wait. Another. Day!

'You'll have to 'accidentally' meet her.'

Jimin's plan was in favour of him though, because it played with the notion of him 'accidentally' running into his unsuspecting wooer. This incident won't be an accident though and only relied on his familiarity with the routine he had fallen into. He just had to wait for a shutting of a locker door to be able to turn the corner of the empty corridor, which will initiate the coincidental 'meeting' and have it appear as fortuitous as possible.

With sweaty palms, and in the desperate attempt to calm his racing heart, he counted seconds alongside the dainty footsteps he was hearing, which presumably was done by the girl he had been desperate to face. In spite of his electrified nerves, he couldn't help but test the chance of taking a peek past the edge of the corridor walls. The dangerously enthusiastic palpitations of his heart were almost deafening but that didn't conceal the startled gasp, the urgent slamming of the locker door, and the panicked running of steps - which bounced off the walls, like a chilling shrill -, from reaching his ears.

She was getting away.

"Wait!" scrambling into the corridor of lockers, Jin was instantly consumed by self-condemnation at the empty sight he was met with.

How could he make such a dreadful mistake?... Impatience never pays off.

Heaving a sigh, Jin's repentant feet took him to his locker, where a dismal hand pulled the metal door open and a forlorn pair of eyes looked on inside. It wasn't the usual bento and instead, was a strangely familiar white flask, decorated with black and gold polka dots. Taped upon its glossy surface, was his 5th clue. Despite his disgrace in the concept of reading his given hint, the peculiar feeling of acquaintance surrounding the flask silently implored him to read it anyway - his 5th and potentially final clue.

'Clue 5:

The 5th time we met, you were sick and I was more than happy to return your kindness'

"Can it be...?"

Hurriedly unscrewing the lid of the insulated flask, Jin brought the rim to his lips with a racing heart and took a gentle sip of its contents.

Samgyetang.

It's tangy, and with a hint of cream but made mildly spicy with an inkling of chilli. This was very familiar and he knew exactly why that was the case.

When he had been sick, a kind soul had reached out and cared for him in the medical office without the aid of the nurse as they had been preoccupied with someone else, who was having a panic attack that same day. All he can remember was the sacred taste of samegyetang with extremely softened, fluffy rice floating about as it was engrossed in the comforting soup. Alongside that, however, he also remembered the face of his angel, you - (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

'You have broken your promise to me and so I'm afraid that there will be no 6th clue.

I'm sorry Jin.

This is it.'

That was very accurate.

This is most definitely it!

A start of a new beginning and Jin was more than eager to kick-start this recent development.

You have been miserable all day, disappointed in the fact that the man, who you thought was respectful of everyone's wishes, had broken his oath. In truth, you were desperate to be confronted by him too, but fear was a greater puppeteer than hope. Terror and anxiety had grown hazardously, with the course of time, where you had imagined multiple scenarios of how things were to end.

In the sequence of events you imagined, Jin was almost always stood before you in disappointment, rejection shaping the curve of his sinfully soft-looking lips before he had even uttered the first few lines of his refusal towards you. Sometimes, he wouldn't even show up, too scared of hurting you like the gentleman that he was, or simply because he wasn't able to figure out that it was you, and in his optimisation had thought it was Areum, asked her, she would have then lied and that was that. You were left alone for all eternity.

About to cry, you almost skipped the cooking club but decided against it with the idea of seeing Jin again. Of course, it wasn't ideal, but his presence always gave you comfort and warmth. Hopefully, that sensation hasn't disappeared due to his selfish acts just yesterday.

Stepping into the classroom, you instantly locked eyes with him and, with hesitance, offered a timid smile, a gesture that you were appeased to see being offered back. That assured you greatly but it wasn't enough to conciliate your disappointment, and so, you obsessed over keeping your distance from the male during the entirety of club activities. You would even go so far as to walk the opposite direction when you knew perfectly well that the utensils you were trying to obtain were the other way, simply because he was standing at your destination. For two excruciating hours, you had successfully kept up your act of avoidance, ignorant to Jin's growing frustrations.

You didn't see his attempts at confronting you, nor his agitated complexion. All that you saw was the bizarre looks from everyone else that was in the cooking class. They had every right to look at you oddly because, usually, the two of you would consistently be interacting. That wasn't happening today, however, and Jin only had himself to blame.

He was going to fix this.

As the clock ticked away the seconds, minutes and hours, almost everyone was gone. Almost everyone, because, coincidentally, it was only him and you left.

Just as you were about to walk out the door, he called out, sounding almost despairing.

"(Y/N)!"

Reluctantly turning to him, you squeaked out a 'y-yes?'.

"Can you help me clear these up? I could really use another hand; I need to get home as soon as possible." you struggled to comply because, during the habitual time given for cleaning up, he had been the slowest out of everyone, as if he was purposely testing time. Sensing your uncertainty, he pulled an irresistible face of begging, "Please?"

Biting your lip, you only nodded and proceeded to help him out. He had smiled at you but your eyes were downcast when hastily aiding him in clearing up his station.

"I-I'm almost done putting the pots away," you announced, after a long pause of movement from him. Fear then shot through your heart when his footsteps slowly approached your crouching form, putting away pots and pans into the bottom cupboard, "A-and I'm..." you tucked the last pot away, "done!" you swiftly rose to your feet, "That's it! I-I'll be on my way now!" trying to scurry past his approaching form was a fruitless venture in itself and it wasn't long before you found the small of your back being pressed against the kitchen counter. Staring into his eyes as his breath fanned across your warm (almost hot) face, you felt yourself stop breathing.

He's so close...

Too close...

"I'm not letting you get away..." he flashed an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry about that princess."

Your breath hitched at the given name, "J-just tell me what you need..."

He leaned closer...you leaned back.

"I know it's you." your heart stopped, waiting for a humiliating rejection,"...and I think you're more than worthy of calling mine..." he paused, allowing you a short chance at comprehending your fluctuating waves of emotions. What did he say? You stared deeply into his mesmerising brown eyes, searching for any sign of mischief to connote any fibbing but there was none. Only honesty, "This is me saying that it would be a privilege to have you call me yours."

"Jin..." you wanted to say, 'this must be a dream' but you were speechless.

"Please say yes...I'm sorry I broke my promise." the pools of his eyes swirled with culpability and hopelessness, eliciting a swell of forgiveness and love from the deep cave of your chest. You were drowning in bliss by the time you had nodded, still speechless, and he had grinned handsomely. Shifting himself to brush the shell of your ear with his lips, he huskily whispered, "Good...now...you owe me three kisses." you gulped, "Pucker up, beautiful."

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #BTS jin #reader interest #cute #fluffy #oneshot