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jungkookstatts · 3 months

Text

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

621 notes · View notes

toruro · 10 months

Text

— ✧ isohel

i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine

pairing. hong joshua x reader

description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.

genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff

tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied se

fic playlist

w/c. 26.2k

a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_<; ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.

It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.

A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.

Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.

After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.

At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.

She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.

It’s easy work, and you love it.

You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.

You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.

“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”

You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.

Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.

“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”

A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.

Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.

“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.

You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.

Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.

Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.

The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.

That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.

You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.

There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.

The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.

It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.

Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—

Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.

It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.

You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.

Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.

You have a lot to get used to.

Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.

School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.

Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.

Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.

Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.

You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.

“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.

“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”

“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.

“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”

“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”

“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”

“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.

“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?

Dear Madam,

The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.

Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.

You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.

Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.

Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.

Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.

It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.

Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.

You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.

It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

All you hear is silence.

It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.

And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.

“What the f—”

Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.

Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.

Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”

“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.

“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.

“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.

“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”

Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.

You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.

Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.

Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.

“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”

He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’

So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”

Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”

His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.

“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”

“Well—”

“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”

Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”

“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”

Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”

Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”

The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”

The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”

“All of what?”

“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.

“She’ll do it.”

Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.

Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.

As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.

“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.

“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.

“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”

“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.

“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.

“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.

The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.

Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.

The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”

“Did they give you a code?”

“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.

“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”

“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.

“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.

The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.

“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”

“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”

Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.

“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”

You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.

The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.

There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.

Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.

Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.

Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”

The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”

“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”

“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.

“Uh, well—”

“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”

“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”

“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.

His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.

“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”

He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.

So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.

“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”

You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.

Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.

You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.

Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.

“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.

“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.

Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”

“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.

“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”

“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?

“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”

Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”

“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”

Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”

Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”

You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”

Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.”

“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”

“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.

It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.

You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”

“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”

You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.

You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.

“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.

“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?

“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.

“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.”

“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.

“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.

“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”

Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.

“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.

“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”

Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.

“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.

Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”

“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.

“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.

You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.

After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.

“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.

“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.

“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.

“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.

There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.

It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.

77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.

And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.

77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.

On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.

But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.

You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.

By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.

“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.

They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.

As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.

You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.

Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.

You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.

“Um … watering … the plants?”

“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.

“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.

Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”

“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.

“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”

Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.

Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.

“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.

“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”

“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”

“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.

“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.

“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.

“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”

Oh for fuck’s sake—

“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.

“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?

“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”

“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.

Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.

Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”

“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”

He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.

“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.

“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.

“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”

“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”

Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”

To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—

“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”

“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”

Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”

“But still,” you mumble.

“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”

This man is so weird.

“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”

“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”

“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.

Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”

“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.

“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”

Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.

You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.

The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.

“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.

“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.

“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”

“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.

“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”

“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.

Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”

“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.

“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”

“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”

You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.

“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”

Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”

You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.

“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.

“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.

“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”

Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”

“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”

“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”

“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.

“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”

“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.

Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”

“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.

“Right.”

“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”

“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”

“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”

Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”

“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.

Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.

Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”

Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”

“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”

The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.

With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.

“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.

With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”

He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.

“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”

Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”

You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”

“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”

“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”

“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.

Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.

Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.

Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.

Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.

Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.

Visiting the greenhouse.

There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.

It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.

When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.

Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.

As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.

“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”

“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.

You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.

“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”

“And?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.

Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face

“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back.

“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”

“I—yeah, he was right.”

“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.

“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.

“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.

Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”

“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”

Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.

“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.

“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”

“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”

“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”

You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”

“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”

“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”

“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”

“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.

“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”

“What is the point again?”

“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.

“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”

“This is a different job though!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”

“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”

Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”

Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”

“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”

“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.

“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.

“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.

“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”

“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”

“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”

“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”

“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.

“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”

“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”

Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”

“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”

“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”

“A paper?”

“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”

“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.

“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”

“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.

You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.

“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”

“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.

“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”

“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.

“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”

“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”

“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”

“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”

Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.

He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.

It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.

“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.

Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.

“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”

“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”

“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”

Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.

“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.

“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.

There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.

“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”

“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.

“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.

“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.

“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”

“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”

“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.

“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”

Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.

“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.

“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.

“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.

“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”

You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”

“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.

“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.

Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”

You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”

“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”

“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”

You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”

Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.

“Good work.”

Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.

He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.

Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.

You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.

Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.

It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.

Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.

His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.

You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.

Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.

It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.

Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”

“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”

Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”

“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.

“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”

They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”

You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”

“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”

“Sounds boring.”

“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”

“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.

“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.

“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.

“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.

When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”

Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”

“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”

“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”

“Finally! You get it?”

“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”

“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”

Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”

“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”

“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”

You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”

Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”

“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.

Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.

Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”

“You don’t know that!”

Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”

“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”

“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.

You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.

Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.

The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.

Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.

There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.

Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.

You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.

Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …

You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.

Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.

Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.

Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.

You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.

You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.

It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.

You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.

After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.

Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.

It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.

As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.

You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.

You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.

“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.

Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.

Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.

And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.

The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.

Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.

And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.

Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.

You’re a little lost.

You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.

Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.

“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”

“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”

“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.

“Slow down!”

You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.

“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”

The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.

The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.

“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”

You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”

Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”

“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.

“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”

Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”

“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”

“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”

Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.

“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”

“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—”

Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”

“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”

Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”

You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.

You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”

“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”

“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”

“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”

“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”

“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”

“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”

“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”

It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.

“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”

“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”

You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”

“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”

It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.

You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.

You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.

“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.

“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.

“W-what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”

Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.

You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”

“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.

“What are you doing here?”

When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.

“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”

“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”

“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”

Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”

You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”

“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”

“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”

“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.

The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.

“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.

“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.

He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.

“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.

“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.

“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”

“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”

Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”

You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”

“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”

“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.

“It’s kind of like—” You.

“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.

“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.

“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.

Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.

“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.

“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.

“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”

“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.

When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.

It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.

The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.

It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.

You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.

Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.

“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.

Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.

“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.

“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”

“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”

“God of Sun.”

“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”

The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”

“Of course sir. I understand.”

The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.

“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.

"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”

"Y-yes sir."

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"

You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?

The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.

“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.

He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.

“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.

“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”

He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.

“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.

“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.

“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.

“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”

“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”

“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.

His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.

“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.

“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.

“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.

“What are you talking about, I don’t—”

“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”

“Your father —”

“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”

“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”

You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.

“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”

“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”

“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”

“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.

“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”

“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.

“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”

And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.

Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.

Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.

And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.

It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.

Joshua is lost.

After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.

Joshua is lost.

He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.

He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.

Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.

“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.

“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.

“I know. Your father and mother know too.”

Joshua is lost.

Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.

Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.

That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.

Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.

This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.

Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.

Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.

Seokmin is stunned.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.

Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.

Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.

You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.

You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.

One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.

Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.

Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.

Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.

Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.

Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.

You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.

You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.

Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.

He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.

You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.

You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.

Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.

He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.

“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”

His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.

A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.

“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.

“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.

You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.

You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.

You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.

You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.

Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.

It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”

The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.

You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.

I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.

When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.

You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.

Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.

And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.

It’s beautiful.

Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.

The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.

And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.

Walk the line.

Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.

“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”

“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.

“I thought you might like them.”

You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”

“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”

You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.

“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.

“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.

This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.

find an alternate ending here!

edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3 a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!

taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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satoru-is-the-way · 2 months

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HI I SAW YOUR POST! Can I request a Alastor x reader where reader is easily flustered and Alastor just loves that. so every chance he gets he will do some flirty stuff (twirling, ear whispers, ect) bonuses points if reader gets backed up against the wall... K THANKS BYE!

HH/HB Master List

Information Page

A/N: MY FIRST Hazbin request!! Oh I love Alastor so much!! I hope you like it! I have more requests to come with him and more characters!!

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Prompt: Can I request a Alastor x reader where reader is easily flustered and Alastor just loves that. so every chance he gets he will do some flirty stuff (twirling, ear whispers, ect) bonuses points if reader gets backed up against the wall...

Warning: Suggestive Themes

The Radio Demon had many hobbies he enjoyed beyond the regularly scheduled broadcasts. A new one developed meeting (Y/n) (L/n). It was his little game now teasing this little demon. She had decided to visit the hotel after the previous extermination day. The fight between heaven and this odd bunch of sinners sparked an interest in the overall vision of redemption.

The first few days (Y/n) caught glimpses of the famous Overlord who managed the Hazbin Hotel. She could not deny her curiosity about Alastor was more than an innocent one. His power attracted (Y/n) and Alastor is no fool noticing her attention in the first few interactions. It thrilled Alastor in his ability to fluster this sinner with a simple glance.

As time passed more physical contact was added to his teasing. A brush of his hand, a whisper in her ear, or more boldly gripping (Y/n)’s hips making the excuse she is in the way of his path. Today he decided to visit the lobby where his favorite toy is ordering a mixed drink at the bar.

(Y/n) took a seat leaning against the bar speaking with Husk about random things when she noticed a tall figure heading towards her. (Y/n)’s eyes slowly tranced up Alastor’s body from head to toe. A noticeable dust of red coats the demon's cheeks.

“Find my body interesting?” Alastor grins unable to hold such flirtatious comments back since it pulled a delicious reaction from (Y/n). The poor woman became a stuttering mess being caught shamelessly undressing the Radio Demon with her eyes. “I would let you take a picture but we both know this face was made for radio only.” He sat down waving Husk to make the usual drink.

“I-I was not looking at you, Alastor. You are getting a little cocky aren't you?” She replied weakly. Alastor chuckled leaning closer and brushing a few strands of hair out of (Y/n)'s face. He pressed his fingers under her chin and lifted her head.

“We both know that's a lie. You love what I have to offer.” He leans in feeling her body tense. “Oh calm down, darling. You are more than welcome to touch me. Anywhere your naughty little fingers can grasp. But some areas may require two hands being...extra large.”

She gulps feeling her entire body temperature rise, her heart wildly thumps against her chest, and the poor sinner's face matches Alastor’s crimson-red theme. “S-Shut up. I…How big are-” (Y/n) quickly stood her imagination running ramped with thoughts of Alastor’s body and what exactly he meant by some parts are larger… “I-I have to go! I think I hear Charlie calling me.” She made a quick dash towards the hall planning to take the elevator to her room.

Unfortunately Alastor did not plan on letting that happen. A squeal escaped her lips suddenly being spun around pressed against the wall. “A-Alastor.” She whispered her back pressed against the wall his chest pressed against hers. There was no escape from him. Alastor placed both hands on either side of (Y/n)’s head. He grinned those eyes held such a lustful gaze.

“Yes? Can I help you with something cutie?” He purres bitting at (Y/n)’s ear pulling a whine of pleasure out. “Oh, what an exquisite sound. Let's see how many more I can earn.” He purred kissing up her neck.

“F-Fuck.” She groaned and gripped his arm. Alastor earned many more sounds from her all night long…

#alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

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longing-for-rain · 10 days

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Katara and Mutuality in Relationships

There are lots of conflicting opinions about which characters Katara felt attraction towards, which characters she didn’t, and how long she felt that attraction. I see in most cases, people point to quick clips of her faintly blushing or kissing another character on the cheek as evidence, but I think these kind of takes miss the nuance of the purpose attraction serves in a story.

Most importantly, I see these characters treated as if they are actually people capable of making their own decisions. It’s important to remember that these are fictional characters. They don’t make their own choices; the writers make their choices for them for the purpose of telling a story. From that standpoint, it’s more valuable to examine how a character’s story and narrative themes tie into their relationships with other characters. Animators can shove in a kiss or a blush wherever they want, but it’s harder to demonstrate through storytelling how and why two characters might feel attraction towards one another, and how a relationship between them would develop both characters and contribute to the overarching themes of the story.

In other words, when discussing which characters Katara is “attracted” to, I’m discussing which relationships and actions within the narrative build on her established story and arc. Romance is always integrated into a story for a reason, and considering that reason is important.

Unfortunately, ATLA is very much a product of its time in this way. It’s easy to see what romance adds to the arcs of the male characters—but not so much with the female characters. All three canon relationships (kataang, sukka, and maiko) follow this trend to some degree. The primary purpose of the woman in this narrative is to act as a prize for the man for performing some good deed. Once they’re together, she ceases having her own motivations and becomes an extension of the male character she’s dating. This is pretty blatant with Suki—she barely had a personality in that later seasons; she is there to be Sokka’s girlfriend. Similarly, Katara becomes a completely different character—she’s even animated differently—when the narrative pushes her into romantic scenes with Aang. Her character is flattened.

So what is Katara’s arc, and how do the romantic interactions she has throughout the series contribute to this?

Well, that could be a whole other essay itself, but to put it simply, Katara’s arc is one of a young girl devastated by grief at a young age clinging to hope that she has the power to fight and change the world for the better. Which she does as she gains power and confidence throughout the series—culminating in her defeating Azula in the finale.

But the part I want to focus on here is how Katara connects with other characters. She connects with them over shared experiences of grief and loss.

Take Haru, for instance.

Haru: After the attack, they rounded up my father and every other earthbender, and took them away. We haven't seen them since.

Katara: So that's why you hide your earthbending.

Haru: Yeah. Problem is…the only way I can feel close to my father now is when I practice my bending. He taught me everything I know.

Katara: See this necklace? My mother gave it to me.

Haru: It’s beautiful.

Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.

Haru: It’s not enough, is it?

Katara: No.

This isn’t just a throwaway moment; it’s an important character moment that leads up to growth and the progression of Katara’s overall story, both in this individual episode and in the whole series.

Katara finds her power in the connections she’s able to make with other characters. It’s a powerful driving force for her that makes her a strong character even before her bending abilities develop. Imprisoned was such an important episode to establish who Katara is and what her power is, and adds so much to her arc.

But there is one line in particular from the above exchange that also stands out: Haru says “it’s not enough, is it?” and Katara agrees. Even this early in the series, we’re establishing the fact that despite her drive and hopeful outlook, Katara feels deeply hurt, she feels a deep sense of loss that she opens up about to other characters in moments like these. But unlike Haru…Katara can’t go rescue her mother. Her mother is dead, and we see her grapple with that grief throughout the series.

Another character she reaches out to like this is Jet.

Jet: Longshot over there? His town got burned down by the Fire Nation. And we found The Duke trying to steal our food. I don't think he ever really had a home.

Katara: What about you?

Jet: The Fire Nation killed my parents. I was only eight years old. That day changed me forever.

Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation.

Jet: I’m so sorry, Katara.

Another important note about Jet is that there are explicit romantic feelings from Katara in this episode. Again, Katara empathizes with another character through a shared sense of loss. Sadly, in this case, Jet manipulated her feelings and tricked her into helping in his plot to flood the village…but those feelings were undeniably there.

That was the tragedy in this episode, but it also gives the audience so much information about Katara as a character: what motivates her, and what she wants. Katara is established as a character who wants someone who will connect with her and empathize with her over her loss—her greatest sense of trauma. She wants to help others but also receive support in return. The reason why she was smitten with Jet, beyond just initial attraction, is because he gave her a sense of that before Katara realized his true motivations.

A lot of people make the claim that Aang is good for Katara because he also feels a sense of great loss and trauma. And while on paper that’s true…does he really demonstrate that? I just gave two examples of characters Katara connected with this way, and both responded with deep empathy to what she said. Very early on in the show—the third episode—Katara attempts to connect with Aang the same way. How does he respond?

Katara: Aang, before we get to the temple, I want to talk to you about the airbenders.

Aang: What about 'em?

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.

Aang: Just because no one has seen an airbender, doesn't mean the Fire Nation killed them all. They probably escaped!

Just compare this exchange to Haru and Jet. No effort to empathize, not even a “sorry for your loss” or anything. It’s a stark contrast, and the reason for that is because this narrative entirely centers Aang. Katara’s narrative always seems to be secondary to his when they’re together—which is exactly my point when I say this relationship has a fundamental lack of mutuality. It’s built that way from the beginning of the series. It does not add to Katara’s arc nor establish what about this dynamic would attract her.

And, look, before someone jumps down my throat about this…I’m not saying Aang is a horrible person for this response. I think it’s a sign that he’s immature and has a fundamentally different approach to problems than Katara. Katara is a character who has been forced to take on responsibilities beyond her years due to being a child of a war-torn world. Aang’s approach to problems is avoidance while Katara never had that luxury. It doesn’t mesh well.

This is all in Book 1. I honestly could have gotten on board with Kataang if the series meaningfully addressed these issues…but it didn’t. In fact, they actually got worse in some ways.

Back to Katara’s mother. We’ve established that this is a core part of Katara’s character and like in the scene with Haru, she indicates that this is an unresolved issue that pains her. But then, in Book 3, Katara actually does get a chance to confront this pain.

This would have been a powerful moment. Surely the character who is meant to be her partner, her equal, would have been there for her. Surely he would have understood and supported her, fulfilling her narrative and adding to her story.

But Aang didn’t do that. I won’t go into details because there are a million analyses out there on The Southern Raiders, but Aang’s response to Katara was the opposite of understanding. He got angry with her, insinuated that she was a monster for wanting revenge, and tried to dictate her behavior according to his own moral values. And importantly, from a narrative standpoint, he did not go with Katara. One of the most important events in her arc, and Aang didn’t support her—he actually tried stopping her. He didn’t contribute to her growth and development.

Also noteworthy:

Katara: But I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him.

Even at the end of the episode, Aang clearly doesn’t understand at all what Katara is feeling. This line demonstrates it perfectly. He thinks she forgave him when that wasn’t the case at all…but of course, he didn’t even accompany her, so he didn’t see what actually took place. His worldview is fundamentally different from hers, and he’s consistently too rigid in his morality and immature to center Katara’s feelings.

Throughout Katara’s whole arc, her most significant character moments, Aang’s character just doesn’t come through the way Katara’s constantly does for him. Their narrative lacks mutuality. When Katara and Aang are together, she becomes an accessory to him. The ending scene is a perfect demonstration of this.

Now, to address the elephant in the room.

Which character does actually add to Katara’s narrative and support her growth as a character?

Correct! I just talked about how important The Southern Raiders is to Katara’s character and story, how it’s a chance for her to finally address the grief she’s been carrying since Book 1. And who stood by her side throughout this pivotal moment? Right—Zuko did.

You can talk all you want about how he’s a “colonizer” while Aang’s people suffered genocide, but you’re forgetting that “show, don’t tell” is one of the most basic aspects of storytelling. The fact is, despite how it looks on paper, Zuko was the one there for Katara at her critical moments. Zuko empathized with Katara more than Aang ever did—as demonstrated in this episode. Zuko never once brought up his own cultural values. Zuko never once told Katara what to do. Zuko’s position was that Katara should be the one to decide, and that he would support any choice she made. He supported her decision to spare Yon Rha, but he would have also supported her if she decided to kill him. I actually found this episode to be a satisfying reversal to what is typically seen in TV—for once, the female character is centered while her male counterpart takes the backseat and becomes a supporting role to her narrative.

Even before this, Zuko is shown to empathize with Katara.

Zuko: I’m sorry. That’s something we have in common.

I think what gets me about this scene is the fact that he’s still Katara’s enemy, and she was just yelling about how she hates him and his people. But despite that, Zuko still empathizes with Katara. She is fundamentally human to him, and he expresses that to her in a way that allows them to connect. Zuko stands to gain nothing from this. It’s true that Azula entered the picture and twisted things around—but in this moment, Zuko’s compassion is genuine. His instinct was to respond to her grief with empathy, just like she consistently does for other characters.

And finally, how else does Zuko add to Katara’s arc?

I don’t think there is any more perfect of an example than the finale itself—the culmination of the arcs and development of all characters.

Zuko and Katara fight together. In a heartbeat, Zuko asks Katara to fight by his side against Azula, because he trusts her strength. She’s his equal—both in his mind, and in a narrative sense.

Then, this:

Both of their roles are so critical in this fight. They both save each other. The scene has such raw emotion to it. These characters were together at the conclusion of their respective arcs for a reason.

This is the perfect conclusion to Katara’s arc. She just played a critical role in ending the war that has caused her trauma her whole life. She just demonstrated her mastery of waterbending (another thing she’s dreamed of throughout the series) by defeating the world’s most powerful firebender during Sozin’s Comet. Even though she had help as all characters do, these are victories that belong to her and demonstrate the growth and power of her character. And to top it all off? She was able to save Zuko’s life. She didn’t have to endure the pain of feeling helpless to do anything while someone else died for her; this time, she had an active role, she changed her fate, and she prevailed. Zuko plays an important role in Katara’s story without dominating it. They perfectly represent mutuality. They add to each other’s stories. Their narratives become stronger when they’re together, without one diminishing or sidelining the other.

So, from that standpoint, that’s why I always see the attraction between Zuko and Katara and why I see it lacking between Aang and Katara. Zuko and Katara’s story doesn’t need some cheap little throwaway moments to shine. It’s integral to both characters’ stories. We are shown not told of the way these characters feel about each other. Given everything we know about Katara, her goals, her values, her past loves…absolutely everything points to Zuko being the true subject of her feelings.

Because let’s be honest. The ending I just described is so much more powerful and so much more Katara than seeing her being relegated back to a doe-eyed love interest for Aang to kiss. It hardly even made sense—Katara played no role at all at the culmination of Aang’s arc. She was relegated back to a love interest, rather than the powerful figure we saw fight alongside Zuko.

#zutara #katara #zuko #atla #anti kataang #canon critical #jet #haru #katara deserved better #aang critical #meta #analysis

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manicpixiefelix · 4 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 6.

Summary: Felix learns about what happened between you and Oliver at the club, and some jackass makes assumptions about you and Felix and your intentions towards Oliver. The interaction gets you worked up enough that you feel the need to repay Felix as when he'd defended you. With sex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; AFAB!reader, d/s dynamics, felix being a chatty brat, assume the reader is on birth control, unprotected sex.

A/N: 4782 words. cannot go two chapters without having a felix/reader moment it seems. bare with me i swear we get more oliver as it goes on, but he's just watching through the blinds right now and collecting information. also forgive me, not only is this unedited, it's also the first actual, explicit smut scene i've written in years, and even longer since i've been intimate with someone with a dick. i also dont read smut so this might be weird pacing wise at the end. honestly the smut is just a backdrop for character development. have at ye, and please lemme know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Summer creeps in almost insidiously, days getting longer and warmer, humidity forcing it's way into every single facet of your lives. Afternoons outside of classes are spent doing not much of anything, hoping that when night falls, the temperature will fall with it.

This afternoon is the coolest you've had in several weeks, laying on Felix's floor, listening to him play the guitar while Oliver was draped over the foot of his bed, gazing at Felix's bookshelf. There's a sweet breeze through the open window and you hum along to the tune you recognise your best friend playing, letting yourself soak in the moment.

The quiet spell breaks as Oliver moves, reaches out for something on Felix's bookshelf.

"That's cute," he muses, "baby Felix." It must be the photo of Felix and his childhood dog, the you'd only met once or twice as a kid before he'd passed, before you'd been properly friends. But Oliver puts the photo back almost as fast as he'd picked it up, "there aren't any pictures of me as a kid," he muses.

"You and Y/N have that in common," Felix says idly, surprising both you and Oliver, though for different reasons; you hadn't even realised he'd remembered that about you. Your vapid, jet-setting, philanthropist parents had always been incredibly image conscious, and a child was never part of that image. Born out of obligation to their own parents to produce a grandchild to make eventual inheritance easier, they longed to distance themselves from the very idea of you unless they desperately needed to.

And they hadn't for as long as you've been alive.

"If there were baby photos of me, that'd prove that my parents had a child," you laughed, but there was no real humour in it, "and none of us wants that."

The invisible heir.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Oliver says faintly, an unfamiliar, unreadable look in his eyes as he gazes over at you. You give a blithe shrug.

"It means I got to find a home in Felix," you say easily, the wording sappy enough to make Felix himself laugh.

"You're such a sap, that's so much nicer than what I was going to say."

"Go on then, out with it," you prompted him, despite his faint, playful protest.

"I was going to call you another ward of the Saltburn Estate," Felix grins at you, "for better or worse."

"At least you had a family who loved you," Oliver turns away again, pressing his cheek to the duvet as his gaze focused back on the photo of Felix and his dog, "even if they weren't yours." There's a distinct discomfort in the air now, a reminder of how vastly Oliver's life differs from your own.

"I was lucky in a lot of ways," is all you can think to say. Felix starts playing guitar again.

These long days turn into long nights, parties, girls and boys and everyone in between, hazy chats and drinking games and hands on you - holding you, dancing with you, brushing past, tapping with excitement, always hands on you. The quiet way Oliver goes through these strange situations may be read as awkward to everyone else, but you're no longer under any such illusions.

"You're desperate to feel needed."

There was no hesitation in his voice the other night, his hands on you, his mouth on you.

"Then need me, want me."

How easily he'd made you flustered in the club, you didn't realise he had it in him. Honestly if you hadn't experienced it yourself, you wouldn't believe it if someone else had told you. There's been a change, however, a subtle, unnoticeable one to anyone looking in from the outside. Every so often, on nights out, you'll catch him watching you with that same hungry look in his eyes, but will never act on it, however much you wish he would.

"I do, but not like this, not now."

What the fuck was he playing at? You never knew how to bring it up, even when you were alone together. But he never stopped reached out for you, he never shied away from your touch. Apart from this one thing, it was the exact same as before.

If only that one thing didn't have the potential to change everything.

"Has Ollie seemed any different to you lately?" You go to the only person you know you can trust with this. Felix frowns at his hand of cards for a long moment before looking back up at you.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Ollie," you go a little slower, rearranging your own hand of cards, "does he seem... I don't know, different to you?" Then, as Felix was considering, "got any fives?"

"Go fish." You should both be studying for an upcoming exam.

"What do you mean? Has anyone said anything to you?" Felix momentarily put down his cards to relight his cigarette, fixing you with an intense gaze, "did something happen?"

"Did someone say something to you?" You pivot for the moment, still looking at your cards.

"Annabel."

"Annabel?"

"About her birthday thing."

"Are you taking your turn or what?"

"Oh, right," he's still frowning, picking up his cards with his free hand, "threes?" You swear as you hand over two threes, as he quietly cheers.

"Anyways, what about Annabel's birthday thing? Does she has a problem with Ollie?" At your question, Felix ums and ahs, and avoids eye contact, "yes then?"

"No-one else in the group is a huge fan of him," he even sounds guilty admitting it out loud, "everyone else can kind of feel how out of place he is and it makes things awkward. I know we think he's lovely," Felix tried to quickly placate you, or perhaps his own conscience, "but the man's got zero chat." This does, however, make you snort.

"Ollie's got chat," you smirk down at your cards, only realising what you'd said when you're met with a shocked silence. Looking up, Felix is staring at you with utter surprise.

"Does he now?" He sounds downright scandalised. You can feel yourself growing flustered, both under Felix's delighted, intrigued gaze, and at your own memories from the club, "so something did happen?"

"Nothing happened!"

"Something definitely happened!"

"I didn't fuck him."

"Between nothing and fucking there's a whole lot of somethings that could have happened," card game completely forgotten, Felix is enraptured as you begin to briefly explain the interaction at the club -

"- and well then, he starts calling me out while aggressively making out with me," you take a deep, final breath, finally looking Felix in the eyes, "and I desperately wanted to fuck him because of it." You sigh, and give Felix plenty of time to process the story and recover.

"But you didn't?" Finally, he speaks, and you groaned, throwing your head back to look at the stars.

"No," you sulked, "he disappeared into the crowd and I had to get myself off twice before I could sleep that night. Fucking tease," but you're heart's not really mad at Oliver.

"Always fascinated to learn what turns you on," Felix is desperately trying to hold in his laughter. It's not working, "many of them baffle me."

"That's not the point here, Fi," you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the gravel roof finally, laying back. You hear the pebbles shifting, and moments later Felix joins you, hands behind his head, "I don't know how to talk about it with him," you say softly. Then, tone much lighter, "and it doesn't surprise me that Annabel thinks he has no chat, he just doesn't want to fuck her, and she can't fathom a world where anyone doesn't want her."

Felix laughs, but unfortunately isn't able to offer any real advice to you about your Oliver situation.

Oliver Quick was an anomaly in your life, you should maybe have suspected his friendship to bring on further anomalous occurrences.

"Leave Oliver Quick alone," like the voice in the library that greets you harshly whilst you're hunting down a textbook. Spinning to see who it is, you lay eyes on a blonde man in dreadfully practical clothes; he's glaring at you like you've done him some personal offense.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says sharply, gaze as unwavering as his tone, "you vapid -" he stops himself for a moment, face turning red with anger, "pricks," he settles on, "leave Oliver Quick alone, for his sake."

"Is this a joke?"

"Oh I'm not one for jokes, especially not with the likes of you; I know how you and Mister Catton operate. Selfish," he hissed.

"Do I know you?" Its genuine confusion, and for a moment the man's expression turned annoyed, his righteous indignation turning to faint disappointment as you refused to take him and his request seriously.

"Michael," like it should mean something to you, "Michael Gavey;" still nothing, "I was in the year below you at high school for four years."

"Well, Michael," you start slowly, bordering on condescending, "Ollie's a big boy -"

"I know you; you'll get bored, you two always do," Michael cuts you off with a sneer, some of that anger from just earlier returning, "he deserves more than to be a footnote in your frivolous little lives."

"Fuck off, Mikey." You say it as a warning.

"Michael," he corrects through gritted teeth, "Felix is a slag, which makes you the sensible one, so I thought you'd actually listen -" but the realisation hits you, right as you start to see red.

"You've already tried talking to Ollie," immediately, your tone ices over, humourless, cruel little smile twisting the edges of your lips. Noticing your change in demeanour, the fight seems to drain out of Michael before your very eyes, "and he ignored you, didn't he?" You asked, already knowing the answer from the way he was trying to stammer through an answer.

"Now, Michael," you tell him with a poisonous smile, taking even, measured steps towards him, as you turn his name over on your tongue with as much malice as you can manage, "Michael Gavey, I think I do know you," you're playing with your food, drawing out his discomfort with every slow word; you weren't cruel by nature, not unless someone found which button to press, "first year," you drop your voice low as you get into his space. He starts to shrink backwards, but you're practically on his toes until you're crowding him against the bookshelf, "math genius, shouts in the dining hall -"

"I didn't- just once-"

"If you ever," there's a furious look in your eyes behind your sinister smile as you stand toe-to-toe with Michael, "and I mean fucking ever, breathe the word slag in Felix's direction, or any other insult for that matter," you wet your lips, "I promise the only job you will ever get for the rest of your life will be that of a high school English tutor," you pet his cheek condescendingly, "for students with dyscalculia."

Michael actually shudders.

"You know I can do it too, don't you?" You press, and he nods, looking both furious and ashamed where he can't look you in the eyes, "we went to high school together, Mikey, I know where you came from, I can dictate where you will go." Stepping back, you clear your throat. Nodding to him, you turn on your heel to head further into the library, to continue searching for your book.

Trying to move past it doesn't work, it still irks you, you still can't stop thinking about his weaselly little face, the bitter sneer he wore, and the cruelty with which he spoke about you and Felix. It haunts you. The audacity.

Textbook in hand, you immediately head for the patch of greenery and trees near Oliver's dorm, where you know Felix and the rest of your friends will all be spending their afternoon.

"Ooh~ Y/N coming in hot," Farleigh called, spotting the metaphorical cloud of thunder above you before anyone else.

"What are you doing now?" Ignoring everyone else, you only have eyes for Felix. He grins up at you from where he was using Farleigh's thigh as a pillow.

"I assume whatever it is you're about to ask of me," he says blithely, while the others watch the interaction with amusement.

"I need to rant," was all you said, and Felix held out his hand for you to help him up.

"You're so sexy when you're angry," he says teasingly for the whole group to hear, "has anyone ever told you that?"

"I'm not kidding," you scowl, and his grin widens.

"I know, that's the best part, I could listen to you yell for hours, I usually never get to hear it." The banter continues on the way back to your dorm. The others know it's probably a cover, though none of them, apart from Farleigh of course, know the truth. Most assume you're moments from a breakdown and would like to have your best friend there for support.

The minute you're back in your room, you slam the door shut and toss the textbook to the side. Felix asks you what's wrong, tone still light, and you can feel that protective anger flaring up in you.

Slag.

"If you don't hold me back I might start getting into scraps," you tells him with seriousness, stalking up to him with intent, planting an almost bruising kiss on his lips as you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. It's not often that you're the one getting riled up; Felix is more than enthusiastic.

"Don't fight on my behalf," he laughs, frantically pulling off his sweater. Pausing for a moment to help him with the pullover, the minute it's off and tossed to the side, you're unbuttoning his shirt with one hand as best your able, as he's trying to tug your shirt off in the chaos. The two of you are moving to the bed, and he actually gasps when the back of his legs hit, when you take a beat to raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking permission.

He's already letting himself fall back with a wicked, delighted grin as your hand finds his bare chest.

Then he's breathless, with you braced over him, gazing down at him with a furious determination that you don't usually allow yourself to build up. Felix looks up at you with pure extasy in his eyes, like you hang the stars in the sky. His hands on your ass, his grip is firm and secure, but he doesn't move; he's letting you lead.

"Felix Catton, I ruin lives for you," you practically snarl; a breathy laugh escapes him, caught up in the moment, in the mood that's been building within you, "doesn't feel like enough sometimes -"

"You're so fucking hot," he groans like he can't even help himself, can't hold himself back, can't help but close the gap to your lips, kissing you with that same intensity you're giving him.

"If I hear-" you punctuate your words with rough kisses, "another word-" biting at his lips, "against you, I'm -" fumbling with his belt, "I'm gonna start cutting people -"

"Yeah?" Felix prompts breathlessly with a sharp grin, not even waiting to get your fly all the way down before his hand is in your pants, fingers at an awkward angle in your jeans but still finding your clit. It's like you're feeling everything tenfold with the earlier outrage still burning in your veins -

Vapid pricks. The likes of you. Slag. Watching Felix's hands on the girl in the club. The venom in his voice and fury in his eyes when he'd pinned Farleigh to the wall to defend you - Our Felix; Oliver's voice like honey in your ears, tempting that jealous creature in your chest that you'd gone for years ignoring -

"My Felix," you'd purred as your hand found his cock. For a moment, his breath came out as a stutter, eyes going wide as they meets yours. He looks almost incredulous, then, after a moment, hungry, wanting. It's captivating; he's captivating, like he's desperate to devour every part of this moment and you in it, barely holding himself back.

"One more time for me?" He requests, voice low and pleased, before he changes tactics, indicating for both of you to actually take off your pants.

"Everyone's fucking wrong about you," you tell him, kicking your jeans to the side, watching for a moment as he shimmies with his jeans, looking like he's made of ninety percent limbs. Still, your intensity holds.

"Even the people that like me?" Felix laughs, finally getting himself free of the jeans. Before he can remove his boxers, however, you're on him once more, thumbs hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly as you speak.

"Everyone else has these versions of you in their head," you begin to plant kisses along his inner thigh as you work your way up, looking up at him through your lashes, "where you're either an angel who can do no wrong," Felix is already hard when you begin to slowly work your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, "or the absolute devil who's a scourge on the female population," your lip curls for a moment, a derisive kind of amusement at their imagined expense.

"I can't look at you right now," he half chokes out, head falling back against your duvet, "fuck," he gasps. It's enough to bring you back to the moment, and you apologise -

"No, fuck, don't stop anything; the ranting, the -" he gestures to where your movements had slowed briefly, "any of it, I just literally," he laughs a little awkwardly, almost a little self-deprecatingly, "will not last more than a minute if I look at you right now."

Oh.

Oh! This is good!

"What's so different," he prompts through shaky breathes - you can't quite believe how much he's effected by you in this moment, how enthusiastically, how desperately he responds to your dominant intensity - "about the version of me in your head?"

After a beat, you climb off of him, already reaching for your drawer.

"Everything okay?" He asks, eyes opening as he tilts his head to look at you. Pulling out a tube of lube, you focus on opening it up, rather than Felix himself. You should be using protection, you know you should be using protection, but you want to feel all of him, only him.

"I can't talk with my mouth full," you told him, still maintaining that steely intensity, "so we're skipping foreplay." Felix, immediately understanding where you were going with all this, looks back up at the ceiling with a wide smile.

"Fine by me; right now I'm inclined to say that you can do whatever you want forever, honestly - cold!" He announced with shock, jerking up a little as you glided a generous amount of lubricant over his cock. There's a faint look of betray in his eyes, but you just gave him a thin, mean smile.

"Felix, stop talking."

The commanding tone is enough to get him back on board, groaning, arching into your touch as you once again were working his shaft, now so slick your hand glided easily up and down the impressive length.

"My Felix," voice once again low, you use some of the excess lubricant on yourself. Since leaving the library, however, your anger had known it's outlet; just the idea of fucking Felix in a righteous fury had gotten you going, and you were already wet, wanting, desperate for him.

"Don't make me beg," he all but whimpered as you finally straddled his thighs, "fuck, I'll do it for you, but -"

"Shut. Up. Felix." You leaned down, chest pressed to his lips inches from his, whispering, "I won't make you beg," as you sink down onto his cock, swallowing his moan with a kiss.

"I am under no illusions about you, Felix," you begin to murmur, hips rolling at a deep, consistent rhythm, "I don't have a version of you in my head, I just have you; I just want you, as you are."

Pace picking up, you sit, rake your nails lightly down his chest, watch as he pants and groans beneath you. When he holds your hips, your thighs, you can feels his nails digging in, burying himself deep inside of you with each rhythmic thrust. There's something primal and triumphant roaring in your chest, pushing you to sink your nails into him, your teeth -

"I don't care who you fuck," you tell him through gritted teeth, picking up your pace, thighs burning.

"You're a fucking liar," tumbles from Felix's lips as he looks up at you with a smirk.

"I don't, I'd be a hypocrite -" very suddenly, Felix sits up, and you go still with him still inside of you, adjusting to the change, wrapping your legs around him.

"Then you're a hypocrite," he smirks, gaze hazy, heady, euphoric in this moment, "and a liar," and he wraps his arms around you as he kisses you, pulling you back with him as he lays back down on the bed.

"I'm not jealous," you start again, softer this time, but still aiming for stern.

"I'll say I believe you," there's mischief in Felix's eyes as his hand snakes between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles against your clit as you pick your rhythm back up again, slower this time.

"Fi," for the first time all afternoon, your voice softens, and you let your stern demeanour break, instead looking over him, glowing with sweat and endorphins, in your bed, in you, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "I don't care if nobody knows it's me, but -" you wet your lips, wicked little smile on your lips, "I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Something about your words, your request, perhaps your tone, sets him off again; you rake your nails lightly down his chest again and he arches up, swearing, almost breathless.

"Yes, fuck, yes," comes out alongside a breathless moan, "my Y/N, anything you want - please."

You paint him blue and purple and the deepest, prettiest red with hickeys, leaving him looking absolutely scandalous. Of course he returns the favour in the form of scratch marks up your back and his teeth almost drawing blood from your shoulder. When he comes it's with your mouth on his neck and his cock deep inside of you, holding you close, holding you steady, whispering incoherent praise into your ear. Always diligent, he doesn't move, doesn't pull out or away from you before his focus is on you, making sure you get off, delighting in watching you unravel on top of him.

In the afterglow, amid the sharing of a cigarette and catching of your breath, you apologise softly.

"What are you apologising for?" He immediately cracks a grin, "in fact, any time you ever start to get all worked up and mean like that, have me on speed dial -"

"I - no, Fi," you sighed, amused at his suggestion, though it was fading fast, "I just... try not to be jealous," there's faint notes of guilt now that you've come down from the adrenaline and endorphins of it all. Sitting against the headboard, you draw your knees up to your chest.

"I know," Felix says easily, sitting up beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, his hand on your knee, "I try too... I don't think I'm always that great at hiding it." Then, after a moment, his tone lightens, "I think this is why I don't want to tell people about us, I don't think I could begin to explain it in a way that makes sense." It gets you to laugh, leaning into him, tension and guilt easing.

"I thought it was the rush of sneaking around and lying to people."

"There's that too," he agreed with a chuckle. The two of you fall into easy silence as he takes a drag on the cigarette and hands it over. The afternoon is sticky-hot, especially in your room, curtains still half open but window shut. As you go to open it, not caring about potential onlookers in the twilight, past the sliver of your curtain, Felix speaks up.

"There's no version of me in your head? Not even a little bit rose-coloured-glasses tinted?" He grins at you, and you lay out on the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. After a moment of simply taking the moment in, you shake your head with a soft smile.

"I told you, I'm under no illusions about you, Fi."

"I think you're too good to me for that to be true."

"I want you as you are, dude," you shrug, as if it's the easiest truth in the world.

"As I am?" He wants to be sceptical but his tone and the look in his eyes betrays him. You've never heard him quite so soft you think, eyes wide and glassy and full of conflict and love; everyone wants him, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him or be with him, he's reckoned with his reality a long time ago, even if he wasn't entirely conscious of it. Felix's life had been picked apart by everyone around him at the surface level for as long as he could remember, perhaps he'd thought that no-one would ever care to look deeper. Perhaps he'd gotten so used to it that he'd forgotten there was anything deeper.

"I want the Felix who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months, and who's cheated on every single one of them with me," you start, wearing a grin despite his sudden frown, "I want the Felix who hugs and kisses strangers after just meeting them because he's bursting at the seams with affection, I want the Felix who won't admit that he sleeps better with someone next to him at night, and the Felix who recaps the books he's been reading to me like they're gossip. The Felix who uses people, and breaks hearts, who says he doesn't know he's doing it but I know you do," you laugh, sitting up on your knees and letting the blankets slide down your back as Felix looks up at you now with a fond kind of reverence, "I want the Felix that lights up every room he's in without even trying, who makes everyone around him feel like they're the only person in the world, and that same Felix who still shifts over, mid conversation with someone else, for me to sit down beside him without having to even ask, because you know we'll always come back to each other," you lean down, lips inches from his, burning intensity in your gaze as you take in the reverence in his eyes, "the Fi who fights for me, the Fi who loves that I'd ruin lives for him, my Felix -" You see the moment he can no longer hold himself back, arcing forward, moving from the headboard to be by you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. For a long moment it's your mouth fitting perfectly against his, faint, desperate groan being pulled from the back of his throat as he takes your face in his hands, firm, warm, wanting, deepening the kiss.

"Some of those things were pretty shit," he laughed a little self consciously after the kiss breaks, both of you breathing heavy. In his eyes you can see the barest hint of conflict.

"People have said worse."

"And you got them expelled," he reminded with a faint smile, but again there's that conflict, "and they aren't you."

"You're my best mate," you laugh easily, "that shit, the good and the less good, makes you my Felix. Be pretty shit of me to want to chop and change who you are, you know?"

For a very long moment, you watch the way he slowly begins to smile, to take all your saying in drinking in this sun-drenched moment. Reaching out, he carefully touches your cheek.

"Say it again then," he prompts, sounding almost giddy, feather-light touches as if mapping your delicate features in this moment. For a brief second you're confused, barely angling your head to indicate as such before you can see his faint blush beneath his golden skin, creeping up his cheeks. When he laughs, almost self conscious, you realise, and grin back.

"You're a sap."

"Don't make me beg."

"My Felix."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #head heart hand fic #oliver quick x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #manic writer

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circeyoru · 1 month

Text

Unwanted Soul _ Part 9 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 (here)

The days when you worked for Lucifer were dull and boring, you saw nothing to gain even though you’re the one doing all the information searching and collecting. You went belong Lucifer’s expectation when you said you’ll infiltrate and plant yourself close to the source so that the information collected was reliable

Lucifer told you directly that he expected for you to just listen and gather what rumors were around and tell him, or what information was available then you report to Lucifer in a neat pile. Never did he think you’ll go above and beyond, considering your mood and status of wanting to get yourself a second death

Well, you didn’t really mind it all. Back when you were writing your novel, you had a ton of characters, each with different backgrounds and personality. You tried just researching online to get the information, but there wasn’t that feeling when you were writing them. You needed to get the feel of it. So you actually tried out part-time jobs from all over the place to get it

Turns out it worked since even a copy of the novel got such fame and wealth…

Now, you realized you didn’t need to create something for you to know what you have. With your new power, you seem to have something akin to photographic memory to the point you’ll be able to keep what you see and know like a compute file system. Very convenient and steal-proof

Your main target happened to be Vox, the TV Demon and an Overlord that is acquainted and in alliance with another two Overlords Velvette and Valentino. Lucifer requires newer information of the modern Overlords, so you went to the V Tower to sneak within their ranks

That was before your charm abilities from your pages developed to what you have today, so Lucifer gave you an entirely new look and some common powers so you didn’t make an impression on Vox or the other two Overlords

It was through Vox that you learned of Alastor as well. While you never saw him, you heard plenty from Vox to know they weren’t overly fond of the other. Alastor seem to tolerate Vox and didn’t even see Vox as a treat since it was all so childish from on outlooker’s perspective

But what you learned from within was even worse. Vox was controlling, very controlling. He not only hypnotizes the customer and reporters to boost his fame and gain loyalty, he treats his employee the same and than some. His people were treated as slaves, dehumanized, and worse than animals. All for Vox’s entertainment

“Don’t.” You firmly declined, “Let’s just get on with it.”

“Wow, you’re really into all that redemption thing? Goody-two-shoes huh.” Vox smirked condescending, “Can I get your name or?”

You glared, feeling the shadows riled up by the second, you back up away from Vox. “No. This is strictly business. I hope we don’t see each other after this.”

“Hot and feisty. I like that in a demon. Let’s see how you’re at persuasion.” He turned to the lift and gestures for you to follow him. “Well, come on then, representative.”

Throughout the entire time Vox was bringing you to the ‘meeting room’, he had been so annoying with his small talk. There were a few times he tried hypnotizing you already but you acted like nothing happened, it was fun to see him try

You declined any drinks and food he offered, he set them on the coffee table between the two couches you two were sitting on. This setting was quite perfect for him to try a more direct hypnotizes, even if you were to accuse him of so, he can say it was a glitch in the system or it’s just his screen acting up

Everything was set to give himself the advantage he needs and wants

As expected the only thing he had against the hotel and Charlie was the fact that his merchandise were all destroyed without his knowledge. Though he even come clean as to why he would be aware of they were gone or not, he lied and said it was to ensure his services were top-notch and that he could send his employees to repair or replace them with new ones

Why he was doing this was to show his appreciation to the epic battle Charlie and the hotel put up. To defend all of Hell and the other sinners even when no one asked, to give everyone hope that there was good in this hellhole. It moved Vox’s metallic heart beyond words

Such flattery. You know information that Vox tried to watch the battle, you panicked when you wonder if Vox saw your powers when you defended and saved Alastor. It doesn’t seem like he knows by the annoyance and degree he went to ensure the hotel was under surveillance. He’s finding that one demon that interrupted his show. He’s looking for you

To compensate, the hotel is to either send someone to work for Vox, of course without a soul contract but a business deal only, or give them Angel. What it means was that Angel was to stay at the V Tower for as long as it take for him to individually produce all the cost of the materials used to make the devices Vox installed in the hotel

It was basically a contract that would ensure that Angel doesn’t get redeemed, stays under the Vees’ or rather Valentino’s hold, and continues to bring profit or even more to the three Overlords. You heard that Angel’s boss was Valentino, you also heard about the little stunt Angel did to his boss outside of the studio. Valentino sworn revenge. This was it

When you weren’t agreeing immediately, you were in for a shock when Valentino and Angel appeared through the doors. They took a seat in the couch between yours and Vox’s, Angel forcefully gapped between Vox and Valentino so that if anything happened, they’d have a hostage. Because unlike them, the hotel and its people are oh so very kind

“Angel here volunteers to work on top of our contract on this little mishap.” Valentino grinned, playing with his pipe as he released a puff of red smoke. “Angel came all on his own too.”

“Then why isn’t he speaking on his own?” You challenged, it’d take a blind person to ignore the nervousness and uneasiness Angel was displaying. From what you observed, Angel truly likes it at the hotel. He wouldn’t willingly leave it and everyone. “Why are you speaking in his place?”

Vox raised a hand, answering as if it was all rehearsed. “Val is Angel’s boss, so it only makes sense he speaks on Angel’s behalf on something so important.”

Your eyes narrowed, “You got it backwards. On matters as important as this, the one directly involved should be the one talking.” You glared at Valentino, “Not to be spoken on behalf by.”

Vox laughed, “You forget. You’re at our mercy now, we don’t need to care for your wants.” He got up and strolled over to you, “You know, you’re quite talented. We could use someone like you here. If you agree to take Angel’s place, then Angel can go free from this deal. I’m sure with your talent, you can make up that number in no time.”

“That wasn’t what you offered.” You hissed, you could feel Alastor growing rage as well.

“Oh, need more incentive?” Vox smirked.

The moment he said that, the doors opened and revealed Velvette though it was what was dragged behind that caught you off guard. Husk, all beaten up and bantered, was being pulled into the room by some hellhounds that was in servitude to Velvette, or maybe the Vees.

Velvette gave a cunning grin, “You called?”

This was obviously a bad situation. Two hostages and three Overlords, one of them were in the worse pairing possible as well. This was all a trap

There was a high possibility that Angel didn’t want to answer Valentino’s calls and was dragged to the V Tower where he’s be powerless. Husk most possibly saw what happened and tried to stop it since you were going to the same place later on

In the end, two were caught and used as leverage to convince you into servitude of Vox. Maybe you shouldn’t have came, but you didn’t want them to get hypnotized again and this was their domain so Vox holds more power here

You’ll admit, you’re cornered. Do you call for Alastor? But Alastor couldn’t care less about Angel or Husk went you were on the line. He’d even agree with the deal Vox offered just because you would be out of harm’s way. You just know Alastor will do that. While he cares for your decision, but when it was your time away from him on the line, he’ll do anything to keep you within his hold

In that case, you’re left with one option

“You want compensation for your broken devices, yeah, I can handle it. But I will not be working here.” You spoke firmly, “The hotel has a 16 floors, each floor has around 10 rooms, each room has a VoxTech TV and a pair of speakers that were installed, in total that’s 160 TVs and 320 speakers. The lobby has a large screen made of 6 TVs and 8 pairs of speakers to provide high quality sound transperance, the top floor has a cinema that is made with 10 TVs and 10 pairs of speakers aligning the walls.”

As you were listing, everyone was surprised with how well you knew everything. Especially Angel and Husk since you were rarely out of your room or around. How you knew all this was a mystery to them.

“So in total, you require the compensation of 176 TVs and 356 speakers. I can provide all of them back to you in the newest condition, but I will not be working here.” You concluded.

“Wow, crazy math, but how can we be sure you can give us high quality goods?” Vox questioned, “We can’t trust that you’ll leave us high and dry after we agree. You can even give us cheap knockouts like some copycat off the streets.”

You opened your hand, “Give me something, anything.”

The Vees all looked at each other, then Valentino passed a gun of his to you. They eyed you suspicously while you plainly inspected the object, Angel and Husk watched in confusion of what you were doing

You ignored all the stared. This was your last result. You’ll show them your power and ability with a page, they wouldn’t know how you did it and they wouldn’t be able to control you since you have Alastor’s protection and you could always put Lucifer on the table. They wouldn’t dare touch a servant of the King of Hell

Your fingers brushed through the curves and texture, feeling where the edges were and how they felt. Then you began taking it apart. Vox kept Valentino in place when you began, Vox keeping an extra close eye on what you were doing. You laid out the parts in front of you, then you inspected each part like how you did to the gun as a whole

When you were done, you reassembled it all. You quickly aimed a shot into the wall behind you so they wouldn’t say you attempted assassination to add compensation. You got the gist of what was used to make it and how it was made. You remember the parts and you remember how to assemble and take it apart. The conditions are set. You can do it

You moved away your oversized coat and took out your book, writing the words ‘Valentino’s gun’ on the page before tearing it out and blew on it. Then in your hand appeared the exact same. You gave to Valentino to inspect them

He was surprised his gun was replicated to perfection. He didn’t mean to say it since he was shocked and covered his mouth

That’s all you need to hear. You took Angel and Husk to your side, telling Vox, without giving him the room to deject your offer. You will reproduce those TVs and speakers, Vox just need to wait patiently and you can have it done within a few days. Someone will come delivery them. End of story

“It’s you! Hahahaha! So it’s you all along!” Vox laughed, falling back down into the couch, “You win this! So you’re not bad at persuasion too.” He grinned, “Now I really like you.”

“Well, I still don’t like you.” You snarled.

“Playing hard to get, huh.” He waved his hand, “Sure, I’ll wait and see. If it’s not delivered in time, I’ll expect you to work for me.”

As quickly as you came to the bright studio that blinds your eyes, you left with Angel and Husk hand in hand just in case they tried something. The moment you were out of the building, Alastor reappeared and hugged the living daylights out of you, you returned the hug, melting into his hold

It was such a scary experience, but you know you got through it because Alastor was watching and listening all that time to support you

Alastor sent Husk and Angel back through the shadows to retell the message of a smooth negotiation and nothing else. They were to have the cover story of meeting you and Alastor on the way back and to pass the message along while the two of you enjoyed a stroll for the hardwork. Needless to say they agreed easily to that plan

You walked with Alastor arm in arm, leaning against him for a more physical support. You closed your eyes to rest a bit since it was way too bright in the studio and you trust Alastor enough to lead you on the right and safe path

Being the radio host he is, he talked and talked about anything and everything he could to fill the silence and give you the perfect voice to listen to. At the sight of Alastor, a number of demons left the area and stayed clear of him

Everything was very peaceful, just you and him strolling down the streets. It reminded the two of you during those days when you both were in your home area. You’d sometimes want to just stretch your legs and walk around. Alastor would accompany you to keep you safe

In the beginning, it was just you and your music while Alastor was busy with whatever bloody methods to keep the demons’ eyes off of you. Then you and Alastor made small talk so Alastor’s attention wasn’t on destroying some poor demon that was minding their own business. Turns out, that was one of moments that got you to see another side of Alastor

You smiled as you hugged onto Alastor’s arm, you felt Alastor’s miniature jerk before he relaxed again. You really wanted to tickle him, but you’ll save it for when you two are back behind closed doors to have more fun

“You! You in the giant stupid coat! Stop!” A voice shouted behind you and Alastor.

Alastor looked down to you, you nodded as you opened your eyes again. Alastor turned around, shielding you from the unknown demon’s sight. “What is it that you need from us?”

“I’m not talking to you, f**ker!” The demon exclaimed at Alastor, “Move aside or else.”

“Else?” Alastor’s head tilted to the side with his smile growing to a threatening grin, “Quite bold of you to assume you have a chance here.”

You peeked from behind Alastor, this demon was unfamiliar to you, not someone you messed with nor did you gather information on them for anything in discriminating. You wonder if you should let Alastor have at her since you already dealt with Vox today. But something bugged you with how desperate she was acting, very familiar. So you stepped out, “What is it?”

Her eyes seemingly light up and came over to you, gripping onto your shoulders tightly with that crazed look in her eyes. “You’re the one he wants. It was never me. Whatever he wants with you has nothing to do with me. It was all a lie. The contract, the flattery, the money, everything!”

“Huh?” You glanced over to Alastor with confusion, Alastor didn’t return the sentiment as he looked ready to rip the demon apart. “Uh, what do you mean?”

“I saw your powers over the pages, you’re the one he wants! I don’t know how we have similar powers, but yours is much more superior. Trade places with me, I’m begging! I can’t work for Vox!”

You backed up and slapped away her hands, retreating back to Alastor’s side. “Similar powers?”

You wondered if it was her, that friend of yours. You watched she continued to rant on about the benefits of working for Vox like she prepared to pitch it to a customer. This desperate plead was like her asking (demanding) that you continue writing that novel she stole so she can go publish it in her name

Do it in the name of friendship, she said. It started small, she asked for some tips to writing, it moved to asking for character reference sheets, then ideas on a sequel, last was your help to write the entire thing

She knew you have written it beforehand, she was aiming for that in the beginning. Again, she stole it while you were distracted with setting up a sleepover for her. You remember that empty look you had when you saw the barely closed front door, the pillow you were hugging fell from your grasp

The next week or so, the sequel to her (your) novel was out. Millions and billions of people flooded the bookshops, mass sell out signs for that book was taped to the display for the novel. She came back and praised you for a job well done, you hanged out with you and shared so much with you

All that time, you smiled and enjoyed the peace. Anything to help a friend, you innocently spoke. After all, she was there for you when you broke up with your boyfriend. She was your closest friend, things like these happen. See? She’s back at your side

She appeared on TV, she appeared on podcast, she appeared in interviews, she appeared in best selling author signing sessions, she appeared as a professor to teach young aspiring writers. She was everywhere. That was because the novel was everywhere, it was adatped into movies, TV shows, cartoon series, it has audiobooks and was references in a number of places

People loved your work. You were content with that. It was fine. As long as your friend is by your side. You can take it all. Yet you can’t help it when tears flow down your face in the dead of night. You hugged your pillow so tightly

It was all supposed to be yours, yet it wasn’t… You gave it all up to someone that’s not worthy of it

“See?” She threw a bunch of papers into the air from her side bag, with a snap of her fingers, the pages turned into paper daggers and flew around her at command. “If you can summon things, then you’re a such better fit! Please, come back with me to the V Tower and take my place.”

“Shut up.” You spoke, your hands unconsciously gripped onto Alastor’s wrist tightly that it could have snapped. Reacting to your obvious hatred, Alastor snapped his fingers and fires burn down the pages that she was so proud of. “Ha, I can’t believe you haven’t changed.”

She raised a brow, “What?”

You sighed, “Karolina, so you died, huh. Did you have a good life? Must be good as the famous author, right?”

Kat’s eyes widened, now it was her turn to back up, “No way… You can’t be serious…”

“Dearest, do you know her?” Alastor inquired with a cute head tilt, his ears moving along.

“Yeah, I know her.” You smiled, you know what will happen after your words because you know Alastor, “Meet Karoline, my former best friend while I was alive, but most importantly… The one that stole my precious writing.”

Note: Another one~ There's one more part to this and the involvement of Kat arc is done. I think I might end this series after that. The unanswered questions could be counted as trivia or extra mini moments. Cause I feel like this series is getting a bit too long. What do you guys think?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka @lucifers-silhouette @an-idyllic-novelist @cyannese-rose @type-ink

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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thedarkreunion69 · 6 months

Text

Dreamgirl

Kinktober Day - 2 (Camgirl)

Denji × Camgirl!Reader

SMUT 18+ (3.6k) (All characters are aged up)

Where your loyal viewer turns out to be none other than your classmate who you're tutoring

🔞NSFW🔞 reader is a camgirl under the name 'Stargirl',fluff,slight male masturbation,making out,oral f!receiving,lots of nipple play,vaginal fingering,unprotected sex,creampie, denji being dumb, friends to lovers?

He grumbles annoyedly as you go over the lesson plan with him one more time; you’ve been over the same topic with him for the past several days but he hasn’t been grasping it whatsoever.

Little did you know though, Denji hadn’t been paying attention to the learning material at all—he’d been staring at you the entire time.

He groaned and slammed his head on the desk, narrowing his eyes as he did so.

"Do I really have to learn all of this?" he asks, flipping through the pages lazily.

"Yes you do, our midterms are approaching soon and these are the most important topics." You try to reason with him.

The boy mumbles, turning his attention towards you as he speaks.

Denji rolls his eyes and sits up, grumbling under his breath as he did so.

"Ugh, but it's boring and it doesn't even make any sense. What's the point?"

"Is the material even important? Do you really think I need to know this stuff to graduate?"

He tilts his head and looks at you curiously.

"Oh trust me, I ask myself the same question. But it is what it is, we need to study all this shit to graduate" You had no idea why it had to be you who had to tutor him, just talking to him was making you loose brain cells.

A frown spreads across his face as he sighs. "Fine, I guess you're right. Just this once though. Only because the tests are coming up." He groans and leans back in his chair, staring into empty space and letting out a long breath.

"What do I do first though?" The boy asks, looking back at you for help.

"Try solving this, you just need to substitute the values" You give him the easiest question of the book, hoping for some improvement.

The boy grabs a nearby pencil and looks over at the problem you provided. His brow furrows as he reads what's on the page and tries to comprehend it.

He leans back in his chair and rubs his forehead with his free hand before looking back over at the problem and muttering to himself, a frown on his face. "... I don't understand..."

The boy sighs loudly before looking back up at you for help.

"You just need to put in the values, it's basic trigonometry" You were getting a headache now, you both had been doing the same thing since last week, yet he didn't understood a word of it.

Denji blinks, staring at the problem once again. It's as if you're speaking another language to him; he can't even pronounce "trigonometry", never mind solve the problem properly.

"Can't you help me with it?" He asks you after a moment of silence.

"What are you not understanding?" You rub your forehead in frustration.

The boy glances up at you and then back down at his work, he then gestures towards the problem.

"All of it."

It was finally evening and you had somehow managed to make it out alive after the tutoring session.

He stands up from the desk and stretches while yawning loudly, he walks over to the front door and opens it up before turning to look at you.

"Thanks for the study session, I really appreciate it. I'll see you same time tomorrow" The boy turns around so he's facing you again before speaking, a grin on his face.

You watch as Denji heads out the door and down the street; you feel your heart throb and you begin to blush slightly. Maybe you're starting to develop a bit of a crush on this boy? Even though he was super dumb, he was starting to grow on you.

You shake your head to clear your head of any thoughts, it was time for your job now.

You enter your room and close the door behind you; you dim the lights in your room before grabbing your laptop from your desk. You sit down on your bed and open up the laptop before turning your webcam and audio on.

You look around your room and take a few deep breaths, feeling the anticipation in your heart as you wait for the stream to start.

You smile to yourself and position the camera so that it captures everything below your chest and down to your legs. You'll need to give viewers something to look at after all and you want to maintain your popularity.

Meanwhile, Denji sits in front of his laptop in his room, his cock in his hand, waiting for his favorite camgirl to go live.

He smiles and stares at his screen eagerly, his eyes filled with excitement as he patiently anticipates her appearing online. He's always been a big fan of this camgirl and he's always loved watching her live streams.

He glances over at the time in the bottom right corner of the laptop and sighs "Come on, where are you already?" He says impatiently as he grips the mouse tightly in his hands.

A few seconds later the stream finally starts, and there she was, His dreamgirl, "Hey everyone, it's Stargirl here! I'm sorry for the delay today, I got caught up in something" Your chat soon started to flood with your fans.

"Ah, a delay? What could she be doing that's more important than her stream?" Denji asks himself out loud.

He leans back in his chair and smiles as he watches his favorite camgirl turn on her webcam. He takes a second to admire her figure; her body is perfect and her curves are just right. He listens to her read the chats as he starts stroking himself to her voice.

Even though he had never seen the face of the girl, Denji had already fallen in love with her. He never missed any of the streams and made sure to donate as much as he could.

"I really missed you guys, Thankyou for all your love and support" You say to the camera in a low and seductive voice, watching as your chat gets flooded with thirsty comments

@mommymilkerssonlyy

The goddess is finally here

@slutfortittes

Show us your gorgeous tits mommy

@erensleftbutcheek

Why aren't you my girlfriend yet?

Denji glances back up at the screen and notices how flooded the chat is with messages to Stargirl. He looks at her and smiles widely before typing something himself, wondering if she'll reply.

@chainsawboy

Can you call me handsome?

Denji asks, making sure not to reveal his actual identity online.

It was so rare to be complimented by someone you find attractive so you might as well ask for it, right?

Your eyes brighten up as you see a chat from your most loyal viewer. "Oh! Here you are, my most loyal fan, Chainsaw boy. I knew you'd always show up for my streams. And yes, you are very handsome."

Denji arrives at your house again, knocking on the door as always and waiting patiently for you to let him in.

You open the door and let him in. "You're on time today"

He smiles gratefully as soon as the door opens and he sees you standing in front of him; he nods and walks inside.

"Yeah... I decided that if I want to pass, I should probably be on time." He chuckles slightly and puts his hands behind his back. "So, what are we studying today?"

"Let's start of with some chemistry, we have a test day after tomorrow" You lead him to your room and you both sit on the bed and start taking out the textbooks.

As the two of you sit down on the bed to continue studying, Denji notices something odd. The sheets on the bed looks awfully familiar, even down to the flower pattern on the bedspread.

The boy turns and looks at you, confusion filling his mind and heart for a moment before he shrugs it off. Maybe he's just imagining things, it can't be that similar, right?

"So do you understand about the tetravalency of carbon?" You asked the boy, who seemed rather confused.

"I think so, yeah. It basically means that carbon has four bonds that it can make with other atoms, right?" Denji glances into the textbook, the two of you studying next to each other while sitting on your bed.

His mind is still occupied with the fact that your bedsheet is oddly similar to the bedsheet used by his favorite camgirl online, although he tries not to think too deep about it. He's starting to think that it's all just a coincidence.

"Yes, exactly"

Denji looks up from the textbook, glancing at you briefly. He just realises that the sound of your voice is also quite similar to the camgirl he watches.

It couldn't be you though, that's just a coincidence, right?...

His mind was torn between believing the similarities in both Stargirl and You are just coincidences or not. Surely it's not possible that...

He shakes his head, trying to clear his confused mind. It's probably just a coincidence.

While you both continue studying, He can't help but notice the birthmark near Your thigh, it looks exactly like the one stargirl possesses. He's seen it more than a few times already.

His mind begins to race at the thought of the fact that what he's thinking may actually be true.

It can't be though, it's just a coincidence... right?... Denji glances over at you, a conflicted look on his face.

Why do you have the same birthmarks as his favorite camgirl? Why does you have the same bedsheet? Your Voice sounds so similar too... it's gotta be a coincidence. It's impossible for her to be the same person, right?

The boy continues to struggle with his thoughts, he can't help but want to believe that You and Stargirl are one and the same, it would explain all the similarities.

The sound of his favorite camgirl's voice fills his ears as you instructs him in studying, that mixed with the memories of him seeing you on stream fills him with confusion and doubt.

He feels a sudden urge to ask a question, but he knows that no good could come from asking that question. What if... it's actually you? What if you were Stargirl all along? He'll just sound stupid.

"So..." He hesitates to ask before eventually speaking up. "Do I look handsome?" He blushes heavily at his question.

You look at him with a confused expression. "What?"

"I... well uh..." Denji looks away and sighs, not sure what to say to you. 'Are you really the same as his Stargirl?' He just can't figure it out. "Well... I just wanted to know if you thought I looked... handsome."

You think to yourself for a moment before replying, your cheeks feeling slightly warm. "Well you are pretty handsome, not gonna lie"

"H-huh?... Really?" Denji can't help but blush at your words. "I never really thought I'd be... handsome to most people." He seems a little lost by your words but still can't help but feel happy at how you had reacted. Were you Stargirl? Were you actually his Stargirl? "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure" You reply while solving an equation in your notebook.

Denji's heart is beating out of his chest as he prepares himself for the question with a nervous smile. It was such a weird question, but he just had to know if you really were Stargirl or not.

"Alright... so this is gonna be a kinda weird question, but..." He takes a breath, wondering if he has the strength to ask the question.

"Are you a camgirl by the name Stargirl?"

His heart is racing, it could just be a coincidence or it could be the truth. This was truly the moment of truth.

Your eyes widen and you drop your pencil. You couldn't believe he knew about your secret identity. "How do you know about that?" You ask nervously.

"I've watched your streams... a lot actually. I guess it's because I was pretty bored at home, so I just needed a distraction." He chuckles awkwardly.

"It's kinda funny, I remember watching a lot of your streams... especially when you first started out." The more he talks, the more comfortable he feels. He can't believe it, Stargirl really exists.

"Wait, you don't happen to be Chainsaw Boy, do you?" You could feel your cheeks burning at the thought of him being one of your most loyal follower.

"Uh... yeah." Denji nods slowly and sighs. He knew that he didn't even need to deny any of it. "I know... it's weird and kinda obsessive, but... I just don't have a lot to do."

"Please dont tell about this to anyone, I want this to be a secret between us" You don't even want to think what would happen if everyone you knew would get to know about your secret persona.

"I won't, trust me. I won't say a word." He smiles reassuringly at you. He can't believe this is happening. He's always wanted to be with Stargirl, and now he's sitting right next to her. "But, uh... I've got to ask you one more question, Why did you keep your identity a secret from your viewers?"

"I'm doing this whole camgirl thing to pay up my mom's hospital fees. She thinks I do a part time job, I don't want her to know that I strip infront of the camera for money, plus it's pretty embarrassing to admit to someone you know?" You open up to him.

"Oh..." His heart flinches at the revelation, he feels bad for you. You're doing this to help your family.

He looks at you with sorrow and concern in his eyes, he feels bad that you has to sell herself like this. Yet that doesn't stop him from looking at you with affection. "I understand, Stargirl. I'll never tell anyone."

"Thanks for supporting me and watching my streams tho. It means a lot to me" You smile at him softly.

"Thanks for all the streams! They kept me entertained in my lonely days. I'm really sorry you have to go through all of this just to help your family though." Denji smiles back, wishing he could do more. It hurts to see a girl so beautiful as you to have to be in such a situation.

"But I'll keep watching your streams, for both myself and your mother. You're gonna make it through this, I know you will."

His words melt your heart and you find yourself hugging him tightly.

He blushes as he feels the warmth of your touch, he's always longed to feel love. He can feel himself falling even more in love with you as you hug him.

He wraps his arms around you as he closes his eyes and enjoys the moment. He wants to stay like this forever.

He smiles softly as he opens his eyes and looks at you. "I'm just glad I get to spend time with you"

"I can say the same. It's an honor to spend time with my most devoted and loyal follower" You break the hug and look upto him, your faces only inches apart

Denji's breath catches in his throat due to the close proximity. He's lost in your eyes as his thoughts begin to fill with feelings for you. He wants you.

"I uh..." He can't think properly with your faces being this close. "I..." He doesn't know what to say as he looks back into your beautiful eyes. His heart pounds against his chest as the two of you look at each other silently.

"Do you... wanna..." He can't finish that sentence. The words are stuck in his throat. Denji takes a deep breath and leans in a bit closer, his eyes closed. If he doesn't do it... what if this moment never happens again?

You nod and slowly lean forward, Your lips touch his as time seems to slow down.

He feels as if he's on top of the world. He's kissing the girl of his dreams, She has thousands of fan, but yet she chooses him.

He continues to kiss you back, enjoying the feeling of your tongue exploring his mouth. His hands eventually come up under your top, massaging your smooth skin as your tongues continue to dance together.

You find yourself sitting on his lap and kissing him deeply, your hands running through his scruffy blond hair.

He wraps his hands around your waist, his fingers grazing against your skin. He leans towards you a bit more, wanting your lips to stay locked together forever.

He couldn't help but moan softly into her neck as he felt your breasts press against him. His hands roamed over your body, his touch possessive and loving

"Can I?" He asks while slowly tugging at the hem of your top, as soon as you give him the green light he tosses away your top and his hands moved to unfasten your bra, freeing your perky breasts from their confines.

Seeing your beautiful breasts bared, Denji's mouth went dry with desire. This was a scene straight out of his dreams. He groaned softly as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling greedily as his hands slipped down to grasp the waistband of your panties.

With a final tug, He pulled down your panties and tossed them aside. He looked up at you, his eyes hungry as he took in the sight of your wet folds. "You're perfect," he murmured before leaning forward to taste the sweet nectar.

"Fuck, you taste so good" Denji mumbled against your folds, his tongue dancing over your clit. He couldn't get enough of you. His hands moved up to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples as he continued his sensual assault.

You could feel yourself slowly drowning in pleasure as you moaned his name while gripping onto his hair and squeezing his face between your thighs.

"Mmm, that's it" He encouraged, his voice thick with lust. "Ride my face, baby. Let me taste you." He lapped eagerly at your sweetness, his tongue pushing deep inside you as you ground your hips against his face.

You could feel your eyes rolling at the back of your head as he continued his ministrations.

He knew you were close, and so did you. The knot in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter as he increased the intensity of his actions, sucking hard on your clit while thrusting his fingers deep into your core. "I'm gonna make you cum, my stargirl" he promised, his voice rough with desire.

A sudden wave of euphoria washes over you as you finally reach your building climax, releasing in his mouth. "Yes baby, cum for me" he urged, loving the taste of you on his tongue. Your sweet juices filled his mouth, and he drank greedily as he continued to lap at your sensitive flesh.

He finally pulls away, his hair messy and sweaty with your juices dropping down his lips. The sight of him like this made you loose control as you sit up and kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Denji kissed you back deeply, his tongue dancing with yours. He pushed his cock against your lower stomach, feeling her slickness on his skin. "I'm going to fuck you now," he growled against your lips.

He began moving his thumbs in slow circles over your nipples. He watched as they hardened under his touch. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, leaning in to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

With gentle sucking motions, Denji teased your sensitive nipple, his other hand moving down to tease your soft folds once more. He pushed a finger inside you slowly, feeling your tightness around him. "Are you ready for me?"

You nod eagerly, wanting to feel him inside you already.

Denji smiled against your skin as he felt you nod against his cheek. He picked up the pace, sucking harder on your nipple while his fingers began thrusting in and out of your wetness.

He finally pulls away his fingers, and with a low, primal groan, he positioned himself at your entrance and pushed inside, feeling your tightness engulf him.

"You feel so damn good," Denji panted, his eyes closed as he thrust into your body. He moved in and out slowly, feeling your tight walls squeeze around him. You could feel him brushing against your G spot with each of his thrusts.

You cling onto him tightly and look deeply into his eyes, pulling him in for a kiss. He kissed you back deeply, your tongues tangling in a passionate dance. His thrusts became more urgent as he felt the familiar fire building within him. The sensation of being connected to you like this was exhilarating for him.

He gritted his teeth and moaned your name, knowing he was close. The feel of your nails digging into his back only served to fuel his desire. "Fuck, you feel so good," Denji growled, his hips pistoning as he drove deeper into you. He leaned down, kissing your neck and nipples, anything to keep himself from cumming too soon.

His breath hitched, feeling the edge of his control slipping. He looked into your eyes, seeing the desire mirrored within them. With one final, powerful thrust, he released himself inside you, their bodies shuddering together in climax.

He pulls out and body collapses on top of you and hugs you tightly while laying between your breasts.

"Ah shit, sorry for well.....doing it inside" He looks upto you and caresses your cheek.

"It's fine, I'm on birth control so we're safe" He lets out a sigh of relief.

"Be my girlfriend" He says while his face is buried between your breasts, his hand massaging your sides.

"Sure, boyfriend" You stroke his hair as you both find yourself drifting off to the land of slumber.

#denji x reader #denji #denji smut #denji hayakawa #csm denji #denji csm #denji x you #denji imagines #chainsaw man denji #csm x reader #csm #csm smut #anime smut #kinktober

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acey-wacey · 1 year

Note

Hello! I hope you are having a great day, evening or night! Could you do a love triangle? Where 2 twst boys are crushing on Yuu and literally fighting over them while Yuu is oblivious to the whole thing. Maybe with these characters; Riddle, Jamil, Leona, Malleus and whoever else you choose???? If not then I completely understand!! So sorry to bother!!!

This is kinda fun and silly. I love oblivious Y/N bc that's just me :))). I also added Azul and Ace because I think the dynamic of them fighting over someone would be really funny.

...

🌹 Riddle Rosehearts 🌹

🐍 Jamil Viper 🐍

Neither of them see each other as competition tbh.

Riddle thinks Jamil is too scheming for you to like him and Jamil thinks Riddle is too stuck-up for your taste.

They both do little things to get your attention, neither being particularly fond of bold declarations.

Riddle always let you have the first slice of tart at unbirthday parties, which is actually a huge deal in the Kingdom of Roses but no one is allowed to say anything to you.

You're the only person Jamil can tolerate being in the kitchen with him while he's cooking.

He'll even let you put on your own music because he thinks it's cute watching you sing along.

They only notice their rival on Valentine's Day when you make chocolates for all of your friends.

In your alchemy class, Jamil was watching closely as you handed Riddle a box of chocolates to see the boy turn as red as his hair.

Riddle had never really noticed Jamil even though they were in the same class, but he did notice how the Scarabia dormleader smiled when you gave him his chocolates.

Riddle had never seen Jamil smile that genuinely and after asking Kalim, it wasn't a usual occurrence except for things that were really special.

After that, the boys didn't go out of their way to make a rivalry. They didn't want to spark any inter-dorm conflict.

But secretly, their hearts ache whenever they see you talking to the other.

They have to up their game on trying to subtly woo you.

It's quite a field day for you since you're receiving twice the homework help as usual, as well as many sweets left on your desk.

Grim is very pleased about this development because you always come back to the dorm with a bag full of Trey's baked goods and what is apparently some leftovers from dinner that Jamil made last night and definitely not something he made specifically for you.

Neither even consider conceding defeat since they're both so stubborn with things they want.

All the while, you are completely and blissfully ignorant of the glares they send each other across the classroom when you aren't looking.

...

🦁 Leona Kingscholar 🦁

🐉 Malleus Draconia 🐉

They already hated each other, what's one more reason?

They both immediately noticed that they were rivals in love.

You were the only person who wasn't afraid of Malleus and he milked your attention, not afraid to show small shows of affections towards you which you interpreted as platonic intimacy even though it clearly wasn't.

And it wasn't very hard to tell that Leona acted differently around you.

He made an effort to actually stay awake when you were talking and, on occasion, even came to class when you asked him too.

It didn't take long for both Leona and Malleus to put together the feelings their rival harbored for their crush.

Mostly Leona saw Malleus as an active threat to his territory while Malleus just didn't like that you were spending time with the lion instead of him.

If you know anything about dragons, they get very possessive with their hoard which was, in this case, his very special human.

You would think that you would notice how you were being tugged on by two angry monsters, but you just assumed that was how they showed affection.

Whenever you were with Leona, he would put an arm around you or pull you into his lap.

Every night, when you went on your walks with Malleus, he would present you with some shiny knick-knack of some sort, which was practically a confession in the Faelands, though he knew you wouldn't understand.

To anyone else, their disdain for each other, as well as their affection for you, was entirely obvious but you just went along as if nothing was wrong.

You knew they had a Magishift rivalry and you assumed that was the only reason they butted heads so often.

Eventually, neither of them was getting anywhere with you and you seemed to favor then both equally, so they made a bet.

"Listen, you horned b*stard. I know you have a thing for Y/N and I know you know that so do I."

"Get to the point, Kingscholar."

"The winter ball is coming up. We both ask them to go and whoever they turn down has to back off for good."

"That's a bold move. Sure you're ready to give up Y/N forever?"

"I don't intend to lose."

It was kind of odd for you with the Winter Ball being the only thing people talked about.

Every time you approached a group, they flicked away from you like you were on the wrong end of a magnet.

You thought it was because no one wanted to go with you but it was really because they knew if they got within 10 feet of you, they would be viciously attacked by your love interests.

No one was allowed to ask you before Leona or Malleus, even if you rejected them.

They both fought to be the first person to ask you, resulting in neither of them actually asking you until a week before the ball.

They weren't worried about you already having a date though since they'd scared off all your potential dates.

Both were running out of time so they decided to ask you at the same time.

When you chuckled nervously in response to their question, they knew something was wrong.

They though they had scared away all potential suitors but they forgot about the one person they never considered a rival.

"I'm really sorry, you guys, but I already promised Grim I would go with him. He has this dapper little bowtie, it's so cute! I'll save you both a dance though!"

The two of them stood there stunned in silence as you skipped away.

Grim scampered up to them and put his hands on his hips, grinning smugly.

"Hehe, neither of you will ever date my henchman if I have anything to say about it!"

Leona just had to growl at him for him to run back to you with his tail between his legs.

...

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

❤️ Ace Trappola ❤️

You wouldn't normally think of them having a rivalry.

But Ace had always liked you and Azul just realized his feelings after his overblot.

You comforted him and accepted him which meant more than you knew.

So imagine his surprise when he discovered that the idiot who got himself indentured to the Mostro Lounge was also vying for your attention and succeeding.

Azul had never been so envious of a first year.

He considered ignoring you until his crush went away but he saw Ace as competition now and he was far too stubborn to give up.

Meanwhile, Ace had absolutely no idea of Azul's feelings for you.

You had 3 classes with Ace and the two of you spent a lot of time together, with the other first years and just with each other.

Ace knew it was strictly platonic but he just loves your attention in any form, even if it was scolding him for something stupid.

One day, his and Grim's antics got far more out of hand than was intended and he found himself in need again.

It was quite a coincidence that Azul was right there willing to clean up his mess for just a small price (?)

It was ever so satisfying to watch his rival slaving away at the Mostro Lounge, but Azul had calculated the outcome of this encounter.

All according to Azul's plan, you came to the Mostro Lounge to scold Ace and Grim and try to bail them out again.

Don't get me wrong, you were seething at how irresponsible they was, being indentured for the second time, but Grim was your responsibility and if Crowley knew the only other member of your dorm had gotten in hot water again, he would use it as another excuse to cut your allowance.

Both you and Ace were very suspicious of how amiable Azul was when you asked what you'd have to do to get the first years out of their payment.

Azul offered to let the entire ordeal go if you would agree to go on a date with him.

You thought he was joking because what self-respecting businessman would stake a money-making endeavor on a personal matter?

You didn't think it would be that easy to get Azul to let Ace and Grim off the hook but at that point, you would do anything to get Grim to stop whining your ear off about "being a slave to the takoyaki".

You took the opportunity and signed on the dotted line: you would go on a date with Azul and he would let your friends go free.

Ace, though he now was freed from servitude, was not happy at all about this development.

Why did that shady b*stard even want to go out with you anyway? He doesn't deserve that!

You are a little wary of Azul, seeing as how he actively tricked you into going out with him but he grew on you.

You started hanging out at the Mostro Lounge, making Ace even more jealous.

Azul was the picture of perfection around you though that didn't stop Jade from bringing up how Azul turned into a blushing, feet-kicking mess as soon as you left.

Grim was very conflicted when he discovered that your options were either the boy who attempted to enslave him at any opportunity and the boy whose mistakes get him enslaved.

"What do you need a boyfriend for, henchman? You've got me!"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader

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tumb1rprincess · 3 months

Text

Thoughts on episodes 7 and 8 of Hazbin Hotel

The fucking "ace in the hole" joke with Alastor, that was funny.

I want Rosie as my therapist. I can't believe a cannibal is one of the sweetest characters on the show.

So angel weapons are the only thing that can kill angels, okay. I knew that was a thing, but I wondering if maybe Carmilla did it some other way. Also, her instantly recognizing Vaggie as an angel made me laugh. Was that supposed to be a nod towards the fans for figuring that out ages ago?

More fucking bops, hell yeah. I think my favorite out of this bunch had to be Charlie and Vaggie's reprise of More Than Anything. So fucking cute!

I legit that Angel Dust was going to be like "So, if this is our last night, how about we fuck?" to Husker, but I guess their relationship is going to be more of a slow burn. That's fine with me.

Alastor and Nifty are so cute, they're fucking weirdo besties.

Sir Pentious my beloved, you were a good boy. I didn't expect him to be the one to go, but I also didn't expect him to end up in Heaven. Does this mean that Heaven will finally see that redemption is possible?

We finally saw Adam's face! It's kind of generic, but maybe that's the point? Also, I just now realized his robes are supposed to look like a sports varsity jacket.

This fight was bloody, man. Angels getting ripped apart, Lute ripping off part of her own body to get out from under that rubble, Adam getting the shit beat out of him.

Lucifer and Charlie finally showing their true demon forms and showing their real power was so satisfying. Glad they showed Adam what for, although Nifty killing him was hilarious.

Dude, Alastor got shook during this fight. He got hurt, he had to run, and whatever deal he's in is suffocating him. I wonder if his favor to ask of Charlie is her figuring out how to free him.

So Lilith is in Heaven. This raises so many questions. Why is she there? What is she planning? Does she have Alastor on a leash or does somebody else?

This also makes me question where the series will go from here. Heaven probably won't be doing exterminations anymore since they don't want to lose anymore angels. Will the main conflict next season be getting Heaven to recognize that redeeming sinners is possible? Will Heaven even let Charlie and the others know that Sir Pentious got there? Will Lilith be the big bad? What's Lute's next move now that she's in charge of the exterminators?

I guess me theorizing so much about season 2 shows how much I loved season 1. I'm so glad I got into this series, and this show has gone from a little Youtube pilot to a full fledged show with one season done another on the way. The only thing I hope is that season 2 will have more than eight episodes, I want more time with these characters and to see their development more. I want to see what happens next. God, what a show.

#spoilers #alastor #rosie #carmilla carmine #vaggie #lucifer #charlie morningstar #adam #lute #lilith #sir pentious #nifty #angel dust #husk #hazbin hotel

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requinoesis · 1 month

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If dolphins were still alive in your universe, how would the shark species react to gay dolphins since homosexuality is not very well documented in sharks afaik.

Although there is still no evidence of this in sharks, in this world-building, after the sharkfolk adapted to inhabit the surface and developed the civilization known as the Waiohana, forms of expression flourished in the most diverse ways, just as happened with human beings in the past.

But unlike us, throughout the entire history of the Waiohana, there has never been any person, book, culture or religion that has judged the diversity of expressions of love, sexuality, gender or identity as something sinful or unnatural. Therefore, it would never cross the minds of the sharkfolk to judge in any way the sexual diversity of a cetaceanfolk, should they exist in this particular world-building.

At the same time, during the modern age, something like the LGBTQ+ community with its organizations and symbols never existed, because no one ever had to fight just to exist. So no one has ever assigned a name or title to who they are, simply everyone expresses their authentic self without fear!

Of course, it's not perfect; there are still some problems related to xenophobia between species due to vestiges of territorial instinct, but nothing as devastating as wars. That's an issue they've been improving over the ages.

There are a few things I thought I'd explore, in case you're curious. For example, I like the idea of the absence of sexual dimorphism in sharks, and I wanted to reflect this in my sharkfolk, that is, the bodies of females and males are identical in appearance, differing only in their reproductive organs. There are no breasts or hair on their bodies, and their voices also tend to be androgynous. I also thought that their bodies don't have something like the "Libido" that mammals had, so their relationships and family formations revolve more around social connections than sexual ones.

But if the LGBTQ+ community existed in this "Sharktopia", this is how I imagine my three shark band characters would identify, in case you're curious:

⭐Roberto/Rocky, the male great hammerhead shark, he would identify as Bisexual! ⭐Tiago/Tyson the tiger shark, is actually a female, but has always seen himself as masculine and would identify as Non-binary! ⭐Arielle/Aria, the female Zebra shark, she would identify as Asexual and as an extra curiosity, she is also neurodivergent!

That's it! I hope you enjoy it.✨

(I wrote too much again, sorry)

#shark #sharks #character design #ocs #worldbuilding

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latay7 · 1 month

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hiihii!! could you write either lance/orter/carpaccio/rayne getting slightly jealous because the reader looks like they were bering courted by a guy, but turns out they were asking that guy for advice to help the reader to confess to character,,,thankyou:3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚WHY HELLO HELLOOO!!*ੈ✩‧₊˚

First of all thank you so much for your ask ><♡♡ and i will try my best since this is my first fanfic/headcannon , so i hope you like it ✨️(and i hope i wrote what u wanted bcz i can get a bit dumb)

A misunderstanding..?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Char : Lance crown , Orter Madl x fem!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥genre : fluff

Note : reader appearence , prefrence , dorm , is up to ur imagination (wanted to be inclusive TvT) and god is this too long and it took me a while

Note 2 : im sorry this turned out to be bad , it's late at night and idk wtf am i , (english is not my first language btw)

☆ Lance crown

You were an ordinary student at Easton Academy , you had your friends and lived your life , diffrent classes and sessions here and there and tried your best !

Although Easton's Curriculum makes every student busy with a full schedule , you're thankful that you get the time to hang out with your friends...Adler's most famous idiots students!! They were all so nice and fun so you had a lovely time with them.

You enjoy their company to the point where you squeeze your schedule to be with them which had a certain outcome....you developed a big small crush on the blue haired one and only , Lance crown!!(lance stroll lol)

You found his dedication and hard work for the sake of his sister Anna adorable , his love for her might go too much sometimes but- it doesn't matter , it proved how much of a sweetheart he is , which made you live him even more.

And now...you found yourself in a dilemma , how are you gonna confess your feelings to him?? THE Lance crown , who never looks like he seeks love..

You excused yourself with Finn to talk privately

Since he's technically the sanest in the group....

So , here we are in this moment.

You were with Finn outside his dorm behind a close corner ,and Lance noticed your dissappearence for a while so decided to check up on you.

"You see Finn , i've had this thing for a long time now , and it's just unexplainable.."

"Don't worry (Y/N) , I understand , but how can i help you out"

At this moment , you could feel your face heating up a bit , it's natural after all you're talking about a CRUSH.

"So i just wanted to get some advice from you since you guys meet a lot more than i do with him , how should i tell him a-and what if he doesn't like me back ,i mean he doesn't really show any interest in me-" at this point you started to ramble , and to calm you down , Finn held your hands in his as he tries to convince you that it's gonna be alright. Meanwhile...

Lance was watching , but he didn't hear anything...so he just saw how you acted but he didn't want to jump to conclusions.

'Was i too late..?' He can't shake off the stinging feeling in his chest , he was hurt , yet somehow mad or even perhaps...jealous?

After a while

It was after hours so you rushed back to your room after saying goodbye to your friends. And while you try to sneak your way through Easton's halls you see a figure you know , it was....Lance?? What was he doing here?

"Lance...? Why are here?"

"Oh there you are..you see...i wanted to talk.." this was concerning

"Oh...really ?..me too"

"I...."

The next words were DEFENTLY unexpected for you , i mean , sure he was nice towards you but you didn't want to be delusional so this was a shock....

But of course , with the shock comes the joy.

"...and i don't want to make things awkward because i knew you and F- why are smiling like that..."

A sigh leaves your mouth with a slight chuckle....apparently he was an idiot as well , so you decided to take a brave move.

"What are you-"

*kiss*

His shocked flustered expression is to DIE for.

"Just a misunderstanding ehe...." you smile.

☆Orter ( at this point tf am i doing)

As a devine visionary yourself , you have many responsobilites and missions to take , paperwork to do , and meetings to attend.

Thus , after your were finally chosen as the devine visionary yourself because of your hard work , you had to meet up with the other visionaries and work under them , including Orter Madl.

You've tried your best to leave a good impression on them because you were quite nervous , obviously.

You could say you were able to get close to some of the visionaries by being attentive and a fast learner , you were trying your best !

Seemingly except....Orter.

Despite your big efforts in helping him in paperwork , doing good on most of the missions you were went on , being so nice and respectful to him , he seemed like he didn't care , he declined everything.

And it DEFENETLY didn't help with the crush you developed on him. You found him elegant , hardworking , and most defently handsome (im screaming in the bus rn dude) despite him being emotionally constipated. (wtf am i saying)

So you decided to ask for help.

Here you are , in Ryoh Grantz' office , asking him what you should do considering he is married and all.

"Im sorry if this meeting is a nuisance Mr Ryoh but you were the only one i could ask for help.." a drop of sweat as you speak sheepishly.

" oh don't worry about it , you've been helping me out a lot recently so it's only fair if i return the favour , and besides , it is a good opportunity to .....distress" he says in a cheerful tone , he liked you , otherwise you wouldn't have been drinking tea in his office " and just Ryoh is fine ,now tell me , what's wrong?"

You tell him your issue as your embarrasment grows even further , i mean , that's not just ANY matter to speak about , However , you manage to go through the entire thing.

He hums in understanding "i see i see , well i have to agree with you on his emotional constipation , he doesn't even show his brother any emotions either"

Your chest starts to feel heavier as you sweat comically , "but don't worry about it , i mean , if i was to be really honest with you and if we talk in terms of emotions...."

Righ then and there , a certain someone was passing by as he heard only a part of the conversation , he got curious but he couldn't make out...everything...

Only a few words....

Emotions , confessing , feelingsa and...Kaldo??!

What in the.....he knew Ryoh was married and....does that mean he's helping you confess to Kaldo ??

Orter Madl , despite his stoic face and cold ruthless demeanor , had a soft spot for you , he felt somthing for you , he tried to show it by being less mean to you compared to others, and taking some paperwork of yours to finish himself , as well as doing what he can so you take the easiest missions , but it seems like it wasn't that obvious...

He knew you and Kaldo were on good terms but to the point where his thoughts led to thinking...you ? And-

No , he refused to believe it.

"So yes , Kaldo could be someone good to ask since these two are quite together at a lot of times-"

Knock knock , Orter entered the office in the middle of your talk.

"O-oh hi-"

"If you'll excuse me Ryoh , i need to talk to (Y/N)" And Ryoh accepts nevously -because his appearence was very unexpected- and lets you leave.

You and Orter are now walking through the hall of the building because you're following him to god knows where. Until you reach a private area where you two could talk.

"You didn't tell me why are we-"

"What do you have of feelings for Kaldo?"

"Huh"...was the only word that came out of your mouth , Dumbfounded was the least you could think of to describe yourself right now.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me , now answer me , what are the feelings you have for him"

"Wait a min-"

Realization never hit you this hard , so you started laughing as he watches confused , why are you laughing.

"Ok here's the whole thing mister eavsdropper..."

That ended well , for both parties , Ryoh bless your soul.

#mashle #mashle: magic and muscles #mashle x reader #orter madl x reader #orter madl #orter mádl #orter x reader #mashle orter #lance crown #lance crown x reader #mashle lance

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maxarchive · 3 days

Text

MAX-IMUM ATTACK 2017 Season Photos and words by Darren Heath

Monday lunchtime, Heathrow Terminal 5. Standing next to the slowly revolving baggage carousel, a fresh-faced, slightly awkward-looking - just out of his teens - young man is awaiting the arrival of his chattels.

Dressed in bland black trainers, similarly hued skinny jeans and an oversized hoody, this Young Turk ain’t winning any style awards. iPhone in hand, he’s busy swiping the screen in that head-bowed social media style billions of us now ‘enjoy’.

Max Verstappen doesn’t really do flash. He couldn’t look more ‘normal’. Yet put him in a racing car and he’s just about the most special talent to arrive on motor racing’s top step for decades.

Schumacher-esque – Michael of course! – is a term increasingly heard up and down the F1 paddock, such is the impact the Netherlands’ premier sportsman is now making.

I can see it too.

The fresh-faced 16-year-old boy who was, upon his arrival, so ignorantly dismissed by many within the sport is rapidly becoming a man. It’s amazing how quickly young sportsmen living life in the public gaze assume adulthood. Just take a look at Sebastian Vettel. The gawky kid of 2009 became the handsome dude of 2010!

What sets the potentially great apart from the mediocre? What makes Max Verstappen so, so much more special than, say, Carlos Sainz?

I guess it’s the whole package: the look; the mien; the steely character honed to be a racer almost from before he could walk; the utterly uncompromising way he dismisses any questioning of his racecraft; the toys-out-of-the-pram reaction to harsh penalties; the fast straight-out-of-the-box attacking style; and the rapier-like overtaking ability, the like of which we haven’t seen for many a year. Such was Max’s impact on the art of passing and defending, the rules had to be rewritten!

The way the car looks through the turns, the application of throttle, steering and immensely late braking. Metronomic in his blisteringly fast lap time delivery, this boy has the lot. He IS the future of Formula 1.

In so, so many ways – but let’s hope not all – Max is the new MSC.

Racing in an aggressive and forceful style often results in on-track contretemps with some of his more seasoned rivals. No matter, Max takes no prisoners, batting away questions about the legality of some of his racing moves with a dismissive arrogance that’s strangely appealing in its delivery.

Up to speed now and surely making Dan Ricciardo question his team-leading abilities, Verstappen is unquestionably Red Bull’s main man.

Off-track too, Max is sorted. Guided by his F1-experienced father, the young Verstappen has an able and well-qualified navigator at the helm. Learning from his own ill-advised 1990s F1 driving career decisions, Jos pays absolute attention so as to ensure his son maximises the opportunities on offer.

With top-drawer drivers in short supply, Red Bull had better make damned sure their 2019-and-beyond engine supply is top-notch. The bidding war for Max’s signature is already in full swing. Ferrari and Mercedes are enviously eyeing the Dutchman’s abilities with covetous desire.

It’s easy to forget that Max is only 20 years old. Way ahead in racing driver maturity - a relative term! – than so many millions of a similar age, Max has appeared mentally developed beyond his years since first he appeared in the F1 paddock at Spa 2014. It struck me then how entirely capable this 16-year-old boy was dealing with multiple language questions and untold camera lenses. Listening to his interrogator politely before answering calmly and intelligently, Max appeared born to the role…

Fast forward to now and Verstappen is a multiple grand prix winner and 2018 title-chasing challenger. Part of the new breed of F1 racers, Max leads the pack. Publicly respectful of his rivals, although privately dismissive of many, he well knows his place among the potentially great.

Michael Schumacher once opined – in an interview I photographed – that his father had advised him to heed well the arrival on the scene of the next great talent. The one who’d challenge and quickly replace the dominant male. Well, Lewis, Sebastian and Fernando, that man has arrived.

You’d best heed Herr Schumacher’s words well…

#max verstappen #f1 #2017

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

All For You - Neteyam x Ta'unui ! reader (enemies to lovers) - pt. 1

*Ta'unui is the Eastern Sea water clan that was attacked by Quaritch

masterlist

part 2

summary: When Quaritch attacks the Ta’unui water clan looking for Jake Sully, the clan’s Tsahik forces her younger sister, Y/N, to escape and seek refuge from the Metkayina clan. As Y/N deals with the trauma of losing her home, she discovers that she isn’t the only outlander in the village. She develops conflicted feelings for Neteyam but the tensions grow when Y/N finds out that Neteyam is the son of Jake Sully - the man she hates.

genres/tropes: angst, romance, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, slowburn

other pairings: Loak x Tsireya, Kiri x Ao’nung, platonic relationships (Y/N x Kiri x Tsireya, Y/N x Jake, Y/N x Neytiri)

warnings: war, mentions of blood, PTSD, trauma, survivor guilt, character near-death experience, slightly aged up neteyam, dialogues are supposed to be in na'vi, not english, lots of side eyes, braids swaying, and neteyam appearing out of nowhere like the batman lol

word count: 30,2k (ik this is insane)

a/n: i’m so sorry because this is so long but i spent about two weeks working on it night and day, and i have never been so hyper fixated on a character before. i would love for this not to flop bc otherwise i might feel a little dumb, so if you enjoy it, please spread some love :) i always go through the reblogs to see if anyone said anything in the tags, so…

the set up is a little slow but bear with me

____

It all happened in a blur. You always believed that in a time of danger, you would be skilled and strong enough to protect your clan. But as you watched the sky demons, disguised as Na’vi, pointing their weapons at your people and burning your homes, you felt like a useless coward. If it wasn’t for your sister’s, Tsahik’s, quick thinking of causing a distraction and pushing you into the water, you would have been dead by now. She sacrificed herself for you to live.

You can’t make out how much time has passed since you finally made it to the unfamiliar reefs, as you collapsed on the sand, breathless and disoriented. You could only hope that you reached the correct destination: the Awa’atlu village. The distant sounds of horns announced your arrival, and strangers started to surround you in a circle. When the Olo’eyktan approached you, you managed to summon the rest of your strength to stand up and greet him.

You’re weak, and judging by his face, you’re sure that the explanation you give him is too vague. You hope that despite your mumbling, he understands that you were asking for refuge to escape from the sky demons. As the villagers around you start whispering, the only thing that comes to your mind clearly is “Jake Sully.” They killed your people, set your village on fire, shot your ilus... All because of Jake Sully.

“Jake Sully,” you repeat in a low whisper, your eyelids suddenly feeling heavy.

“Where is your ilu, child? Did you swim here by yourself?” Olo'eyktan asks, examining you with a hint of worry.

You wince at the mention of your ilu, the painful memory of its death still too fresh. It seemed unfair that you weren’t fast enough to save both of you. You had underestimated the demons, thinking you were too far away when a bullet suddenly pierced through your companion, acute pain reaching you simultaneously through the bond. You ilu did its best to swim through, bringing you to safety before you felt its body sink underneath you with a final shriek. Yet you couldn’t even mourn.

You were still in the open water, alone, unsure of where to head. You screamed as you pulled yourself together and started to swim, pushing through exhaustion and soreness in your muscles. You couldn’t afford to stop until you reached the unfamiliar land. You owed your sister to survive this.

“They killed my ilu,” a sob escapes your throat, your knees suddenly going weak.

“Easy there,” you hear a low voice beside you, as a pair of warm hands snake around your waist, supporting you to stand on your feet. You glance down at the hands, and realize that they are different. Blue-skinned.

“She needs to rest. She must have been swimming for hours,” Tsahik steps out, “What clan do you belong to, child?”

“Ta'unui.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your first night in Awa’atlu, you’re too weak to get out of bed. The Tsahik had placed you in a small empty marui, close to hers, so she could easily check on you. In moments of consciousness, you catch glimpses of people and snippets of conversations. When they ask you questions about your arrival, you can only answer by nodding and shaking your head.

Ronal, Tsahik of the Metkayina clan, says that you could have died out in the open water. She thinks it’s a miracle, and whispers prayers to Eywa while massaging your muscles with various balms. You can’t protest really, even when the balms start stinging and making your muscles clench and burn.

Tsireya, the daughter of the Tsahik, always remains by her mother's side, carefully observing her actions, and joining her in prayer. You guess that she is the tsakarem. Watching Tsireya reminds you of the time when your sister was a tsakarem, following your grandmother around to learn from her.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

On the second day, you feel better. You gradually regain consciousness and start to move your limbs. Despite the pain and the slowness of your movements, you feel the life return back to your body. Tsireya stays with you even after her mother leaves.

“Are you feeling better, Y/N?” Tsireya perks up at your movement.

“Yes,” you’re surprised by the hoarseness in your voice.

“Don’t worry, your voice will be back to normal soon,” Tsireya finds your reaction amusing.

You’re not a big talker but Tsireya is a pleasant company. You don’t feel pressured to react or reply, as she talks to you about her village and her clan. You can see how hard she tries to keep you distracted from the pain.

“You'll be just fine here. There is even a family of forest Na’vi who joined our clan a while ago,” she says, “You can imagine how difficult it was for them to learn everything from scratch! Oh, but they were so determined!”

Your ears involuntarily perk up, as you listen to Tsireya’s story. It’s really the first thing she tells you that intrigues you. Encouraged by your interest, Tsireya continues.

“You will recognize them right away. They are blue,” she giggles, covering her mouth, “But they have been accepted and are a part of the Metkayina now. I am very happy they’re here.”

A faint memory of blue-skinned hands supporting you reappears.

“When I arrived… Was it a forester who caught me?” you ask.

“That’s right! Neteyam,” Tsireya nods, “He is the oldest son. You might have hurt yourself if he didn’t catch you in time.”

“Neteyam” you repeat to yourself.

Tsireya tells you just a little more about the foresters, until her brother Ao’nung fetches her back home.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

On your third morning of isolation, Tsireya visits you with a girl, who seems to be around her age. It’s not hard to guess that she is a forest Na’vi, her blue skin and yellow eyes giving it away immediately. But there’s something else you notice about her: she has an extra finger on each of her hands. You think back on the demons that had five fingers, and feel a shiver run down your spine. When she notices you staring at her, she hides her hands behind her back.

“This is Kiri, Kiri this is Y/N,” Tsireya introduces you with a smile, “Kiri is from the forest. Remember I told you about the family?”

Kiri doesn’t seem to be as talkative as Tsireya, perhaps even a bit shy. You greet each other but she keeps her distance, clearly still uncomfortable around you. Despite her similarity with the sky demons, you feel like you can trust her. Kiri is strangely beautiful, not like your sister or Tsireya, but there’s something about her that fascinates you. You’ve never really seen a forester up close before, so…

“Is your voice back?” Tsireya grabs your attention, kneeling next to you.

“I think so,” you breathe out, “It’s getting there.”

“Oh, it has gotten much better! I can’t wait to hear it, once you’re fully well. I bet you have a great singing voice,” she beams, and Kiri lets out a chuckle. You can’t help but smile at that.

It takes some time for Kiri to warm up to you. With the Tsahik’s approval, Tsireya took over today’s checkup on you. She knows the order of the balms by heart and works in confidence, while Kiri watches. From time to time, Kiri gives her a recommendation, and Tsireya gladly engages.

“Were you a tsakarem as well?” you ask Kiri.

“I used to be. My grandmother is the Tsahik of Omatikaya,” Kiri sighs with slight disappointment.

“And since you moved here, you can’t do that anymore?” you continue logically. She nods.

“My grandmother had to find somebody else to replace me, right before we left.”

You notice how Tsireya throws a sad look at her but Kiri only reacts with a forced smile. She doesn’t like to be pitied.

“Actually, Kiri’s doing better than all of us,” Tsireya suddenly adds with a proud smile, “Kiri has a special connection with the Great Mother.”

“It’s not a big deal, really,” Kiri protests but Tsireya shakes her head, disagreeing.

“When we were out swimming the other day, we suddenly lost Kiri. We were looking for her for hours and found her asleep at the very bottom. Even the most skilled Metkayina swimmers can’t stay in the water with no air for so long!” Tsireya articulates with her hands to convince you, “And she was completely fine. Oh! And Kiri can also make fish follow her, it’s so funny!”

Tsireya giggles recalling the memory, and for the first time, Kiri joins her.

“You have to show me, I’ve never seen anything like that,” you smile.

“We’ll go together this evening. I know you’ll be fully recovered by then,” Tsireya excitedly claps her hands. Kiri only nods.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsireya was right. By the evening, you have confirmation from Ronal, and you’re free to explore the village with her daughter as your guide. You find that while Awa’atlu is not similar to your village, it’s also not too different. But the water around the island seems calmer than what you are used to. It makes you slightly anxious.

Tsireya tries very hard to make you feel at home. She introduces you to everyone on your way, including her brother’s friends. Among them, you notice another forester who doesn’t stare at you like the locals do. Even when you catch his gaze, he doesn't seem overly curious. Just like Kiri, keeping his distance.

That’s Lo’ak, Tsireya reminds you, the third forest-child. It takes a fool not to catch on the chemistry between her and Lo’ak. The way she talks to him almost makes your teeth hurt, while he gets shy every time he is caught staring at her. But they seem to pretend to be just friends in a social setting.

Now joined by Ao’nung, his friends and Kiri, you all go swimming together. Tsireya and Kiri walk protectively next to you, with the boys ahead.

“Let’s see if you can swim faster than Lo’ak,” Ao'nung teases you, his friends laughing. Lo’ak playfully hits him in the arm.

“She’s from a water clan, you skxawng,” Kiri comes to your defense, and you have to suppress a smile.

“I didn’t mean to anger you, oh daughter of Eywa,” Ao'nung continues to tease, pretending to kneel in front of Kiri, “Please have mercy on me!”

Kiri rolls her eyes, and shoves him, as she walks ahead. You catch Ao'nung watching after her, and exchange a knowing smile with Tsireya.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Swimming helps you regain strength in your body and in your mind. Just the way you noticed, the water here was calmer than back home, relaxing the soreness out of your muscles. This was going to be your new home. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.

Surprisingly, the boys’ teasing doesn’t bother you. While Kiri jumps to your defense ever so often, you think it was more of a distraction than anything else to you. As the sun starts setting, you float on your back, watching the sky, the painful memories slipping away. Your moment of peace is interrupted by shouting coming from the shore. Your ears perk up at the sound of your name, and with a hope that it might be someone from your village, coming back for you, you quickly turn to look. But it’s not. Instead, you see a tall blue-skinned Na’vi, waving you over.

“Y/N! Tonowari wants to see you!” he shouts again.

“It’s Neteyam, come on,” Tsireya passes by you, swimming to the shoreline. You follow her.

Once closer, you can see Neteyam more clearly. He greets both of you with a warm smile, his intricately braided hair swaying around, as he moves.

“Father wants to see Y/N?” Tsireya asks, as she gathers her long hair to squeeze out the water.

“I saw him on my way over here,” he says, his soft gaze lingering on you, “He wanted me to get the ‘new girl’ to talk to him.”

Unlike his brother, Neteyam seems to be more intrigued by your presence, his gaze sweeping over your features, one by one, as if trying to memorize them. While it’s not as intrusive as others’ staring, you find his attention to be way too forward. You protectively cross your arms on your chest.

“I’m Neteyam, by the way,” he offers you a formal greeting, that you’re forced to reciprocate.

“Y/N.”

“I guessed so,” he chuckles, like it’s the most obvious thing you could have said, “Everyone knows about you.”

Tsireya interrupts your exchange by gently pulling you by your wrist.

“Come, Y/N, I’ll walk you to our home,” she smiles, then throws a look over her shoulder, “By the way, Lo’ak is currently getting talked to into sneaking out at night to swim with Payakan.”

You see Neteyam’s face change, as his warm smile gives way to anger, and he turns on his heel, heading towards the water.

“Lo’ak!” you hear him shout before diving in. Tsireya giggles beside you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you first sit down in front of Tonowari, you can’t help but feel dwarfed by his intimidating presence. So you’re grateful when Tsireya asks if she can stay in the room with you. Tonowari’s gaze softens, unable to deny his daughter, and Tsireya gives you a reassuring smile before blending into the shadows.

You’re not surprised that he wanted to talk to you. Sure, he was aware of what had happened from your first interaction, and from Ronal, who gathered more information while you were under her care, but he wanted to clarify every detail. You take a deep breath and begin to recount everything.

Tonowari rarely interrupts you to ask questions but for the most part he simply listens with unwavering attention. You see his expression change from understanding to concerned, the more he hears.

“Was there any warning to their attack?” he frowns.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, trying to get rid of the painful memories, “My theory is… whoever they were looking for, our village was the first one to suffer. We heard nothing from the neighboring clans, so I’m guessing it’s only because we are on the very eastern coast.”

“You think they’re moving from east to west?” he asks. You nod.

“It’s why I came here, really. I think your village is quite far from ours.”

Tonowari hums, deep in thought. You sit in silence for a while, another reason nagging at you. You’re not sure if you need to tell him this but you do.

“And because I used to hear about your village. My sister and I lost my mother when we were kids but we knew that she wasn’t a local back home,” you hesitate before continuing, “My sister thinks she would have relatives from here.”

“It’s not impossible,” Tonowari nods his head, “We heard many stories of Na’vi from different clans mating and moving across the islands. We might even find someone from your mother’s family.”

You hear Tsireya’s soft gasp, clearly the thought of it appearing more intriguing to her than to you. You nod to express gratitude but you’re not really sure you want to meet anyone. It’s always been just you and your sister, no one can replace her.

“And you said they were looking for him, huh?”

“Jake Sully? Yes, he’s the reason they attacked us,” you answer, feeling your face flush with anger, “They had weapons, and were shooting anyone who resisted or tried to run. Then they started to burn our homes, repeating his name over and over again. There was also a human kid with them who translated.”

Tonowari’s face falls so suddenly, you would have thought that he has been hiding Jake Sully himself this whole time. You hope that wherever that man is, the sky demons find him before they can reach you. Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Tonowari notices and leans in.

“Don’t worry, child. We do not want war, but if they come here, we will be protecting our land and our Na’vi. Including you,” he hesitates before patting your head, “You’re one of us now.”

You lean into his touch, allowing him to slightly mess up your hair.

“For now, let’s keep this to ourselves, so that there is no panic. I have to think.”

You take that as a signal to stand up, and quickly wipe your eyes before Tsireya can see.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That night you can’t seem to fall asleep. It feels lonely in your marui, and you start considering asking to be moved to a more crowded location. You turn on your mat a few times before catching a movement of two shadows on the other side of the wall. You sit up alerted, looking out. Eventually voices catch your ear.

“Lo’ak, if you don’t come back right now, I will wake up dad,” somebody whispers.

“He doesn’t care anyway, he’ll only get mad at his favorite,” you hear Lo’ak, and see one of the two shadows disappear.

The other shadow stands still, still in front of your wall. You don’t have to guess that it’s probably his brother Neteyam, whom you met earlier.

“Psst,” you hear his voice, his shadow moving.

And again. He moves closer to the entrance of your marui, as you stare in silence. What does he want?

“Y/N? Are you asleep?” you hear his very apparent accent.

“What?”

Your glance falls to his figure now leaning against the entrance to your room. He gives you a sheepish smile.

“What do you want?” you squint to make out his features. His eyes and freckles glow in the dark and you notice his ears perk up, as if he’s excited.

“It’s Neteyam,” he gestures to himself.

“I know,” you’re annoyed. You know who he is, does he think you can’t see him?

“Oh, right. I just didn’t want to scare you, so I…”

“Starting with ‘psst” certainly didn’t help,” you bite, “Shouldn’t you be checking on your brother anyway?”

“Technically, I can’t do anything except wait. Then, if it gets suspiciously long, I follow him,” he grins like it’s the funniest thing.

You stare at him quietly, wondering what he's doing in your room, in the middle of the night. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.

“Uh, right. Sorry if we woke you up,” he scratches his head, “I was going to check on you anyway, just didn’t mean to at this hour.”

“Why would you check on me?” you frown.

“I thought you might like someone to talk to you, about moving and stuff.”

“I can talk about it to Tsireya, I’m fine.”

“I know, she’s nice,” Neteyam crouches down, to bring himself on your eye level. He looks embarrassed, “But she thought it would be a good idea for me to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re both new here. You see, my family and I moved here a few months ago -”

“I know,” you interrupt him.

“And I get what you’re going through.”

This frustrates you. According to Tsireya, Neteyam is the son of the sixth Toruk Makto. She didn’t tell you much but they left their clan on their own, they wanted a fresh start. As far as you can tell, you and him had nothing in common. You were forced out of your home and had to give up on your life without a choice. How can he get what you’re going through? He has a family. You have no one.

“Just because we’re both outlanders doesn’t mean that you have to pretend to relate to me, Neteyam. We’re not the same,” it comes out more aggressive than you intended. You notice his ears lower, along with his gaze, “I don’t need a forest boy teaching me the way of water. You’re not my savior.”

Neteyam’s face falls, like you hit a cord with your words. But he didn’t mean to offend you, he only meant good. From the moment he saw you, he thought he recognized something familiar in your expression: longing for home. So when Tsireya suggested one of the foresters befriending you, he thought that you would easily get along. Right now, though, this seemed like a horrible idea.

“Not trying to be a savior, just a friend,” he mumbles, standing up, “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You scoff, as Neteyam walks out without a glance back.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The morning is disturbed by the loud sounds of horns, announcing something important. You quickly walk out of your marui to find groups of Na’vi heading towards the center of the village. Tsireya told you that it’s where her father calls for meetings. When you spot Kiri, moving along, you join her. She’s holding hands with a kid.

“Hey, Y/N, this is Tuktirey,” Kiri gestures.

“Tuk,” the kid corrects with a smile and greets you.

“Nice to meet you,Tuk,” you smile back. Judging by her skin, you guess that Tuk belongs to the family of foresters.

“So, should I be worried?” you ask Kiri, motioning to the Na’vi in front of you. It’s really a little crowded for your liking.

“Not sure,” she admits, “These announcements confuse me, I can’t tell when it’s good or bad thing. Often it’s nothing bad though, don’t worry.”

Despite Kiri’s reassurance, you approach the center with a feeling of worry. The feeling in your gut is confirmed as soon as you catch a glimpse of Tsireya with a troubled look on her face. You notice her holding someone’s hand. Blue, five fingers. You can’t see him but you’re sure it’s Lo’ak. When she meets your eye, you mouth to her.

“Is it bad?”

She shakes her head in disappointment. It’s very bad, you think.

When Tonowari clears his throat and steps into the center, everyone falls silent. He keeps it brief, retelling about the attack of the demons on your village. Tonowari suspects that it’s only a matter of time before the sky demons attack again, so everyone must be prepared. It is now prohibited to be alone in unsafe areas, going out in the open water, or too deep into the trees.

You feel knots forming in your stomach, when panicked questions pour on him.

“The Metkayina needs to be prepared for any outcome, even war,” Tonowari raises his voice again, “Start proofing armors, repair your weapons. Always be on the lookout.”

“This is crazy,” Kiri whispers to you, “I can’t believe that we escaped here to live in fear again.”

It confuses you. You knew that her family moved to live with Metkayina but Tsireya didn’t tell you why. It is bizarre now that you remember that Kiri’s father is Toruk Makto. Why would he leave his home? You make a mental note to question her about it once you’re alone.

“Kiri, are we going to leave again?” Tuk tugs at her sister with a sniff.

“Mawey, Tuk,” a gentle voice replies instead, as a hand slips around Tuk, caressing her cheeks, “Tuk, Tuk, Tuk.”

Your eyes follow. It’s a tall beautiful woman with bright yellow eyes. You can’t shake off the feeling of how familiar she looks.

“My mom,” Kiri says to you, “Neytiri.”

Right. She looks very similar to Neteyam. Neytiri’s eyes flicker to you, and she graces you with a smile. You bow to greet her.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Once dismissed, you and Kiri fall into the same pace. You don’t talk but you instinctively follow her to the beach, where a group was seated, working on their weapons. Tsireya, Lo’ak, Neteyam, Ao'nung, and Ao'nung’s friend Roxto. You and Kiri sit with them, closing the circle. Sensing that the silence is caused by the same reason you’re feeling anxious, you follow their example and take out your knife. You didn’t have a polishing rock like the others, so instead you focus on reattaching the loosened up string to the handle. You feel Neteyam’s watching you but once you catch him, he looks away.

Kiri meddles with her belt, deep in her thoughts, and you can tell she’s just as anxious as you are.

“Okay, I’m going to say what I think,” Kiri breaks the silence, grabbing everyone’s attention, “This is not good, right? There’s something else they’re not telling us.”

Tsireya’s eyes snap to you but both of you remain quiet.

“No shit, Kiri,” Lo’ak mocks her.

“Shut up, skxawng,” she reaches forward to slap him.

“Hey, you two,” Neteyam gently pushes Kiri away from his brother.

You notice how the younger siblings shoot him an annoyed look but calm down anyway. Last night, Neteyam didn’t seem to hold much power over Lo’ak but right now it appeared that he had some sort of authority. It’s like the possibility of danger made the dynamic between them shift.

“Nothing’s going to happen, they’re probably lying so that the youngsters stop sneaking out to the forest at night,” Roxto breaks the silence with a snort, then looks at you for support, “Come on, if it was that serious we would be probably doing much more right now.”

There’s some truth to his words, you think. Tonowari did not even come close to explaining how dangerous it could get. Taking measures, like staying within the perimeters of the islans, is hardly something that would keep you safe. Deep in your thought, you continue tightening the string. Neteyam shoots you another glance, and when you look back up, he pushes his polishing stone towards you. You nod at him in appreciation, as you take the tool.

“It’s because of your conversation yesterday with my father, right?” Ao'nung suddenly asks, turning to you. Tsireya tsks at her brother but you sense it is too late.

“Y/N? What do you know?” Kiri adds, concerned.

You sigh, feeling their eyes on you, examining your every small movement. You can almost hear Tsireya’s quiet gasp, as you open your mouth to answer.

“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this, so keep it to yourself… It’s bad. The demons had many powerful weapons, it took them minutes to burn down my whole village. I don’t know how strong the defense can even be to keep them away. It’s going to be an unfair fight.”

“What do they want? The islands?” Ao'nung pushes for more information.

“They’re looking for a man, who they think is hiding in a water clan,” you answer, noticing how everyone’s ears perk up.

“Do you know who he is?” Lo’ak asks.

“Lo’ak, don’t -” Tsireya tries to interrupt him.

“His name is Jake Sully,” your voice turns with anger, “I’m not sure what he did to them but they were set on killing him. And killing anyone who’s protecting him.”

Dead silence hangs over you, and you suspect that there’s something they’re not telling you. The forest-siblings hang their heads, and you notice Tsireya squeezing Lo’ak’s hand.

“Wait, so they’re looking for your dad,” Roxto turns to Kiri, “They’re looking for you.”

“Your dad?” you turn to Kiri, “Is Jake Sully your dad?”

Kiri nods, almost ashamed. You feel your throat hurt, as realization washes over you. You escaped exactly where Jake Sully was. It was his kids now sitting in front of you, in their new home, enjoying their care-free life, while your village was burned down to the ground.

“It’s your dad!” you feel anger escalating. You stand up, “I’ve lost everything because of him! The demons thought we were hiding him but he was here all this time!”

“Y/N, it’s the demons’ fault,” Tsireya stands up too, trying to calm you down, “He only wanted to keep his family safe, he doesn’t want war.”

“We didn’t want war either, but here we are,” you throw your hands in the air, feeling your body shake out of resentment.

“My father has done nothing wrong,” Neteyam stands up as well, his voice low.

“Your father is wrong for hiding here, while the other clans are at risk of being wiped out!” you’re so frustrated, you wish this was a joke they were playing on you.

But why isn’t anyone agreeing with you? You look at their faces for support but no one dares to speak. Lo’ak keeps his head hanging, and Kiri storms off without a word. A chuckle of disbelief escapes from your lips.

“I guess the great Toruk Makto isn’t that great after all,” you throw bitterly. Neteyam clenches his jaw.

“Y/N, don’t say that. He just wants peace,” Tsireya starts again.

“We all want peace!” you protest.

“You think it’s so easy, huh? You think he’s hiding?” Neteyam raises his voice at you, “He’s not to blame for their vengeance!”

You hiss at him, more angered. How dare he protect the man who caused all of the chaos? How can they ignore the fact that soon enough they will be losing their homes just like you did?

“It is easy!” you hiss again, “Let him go out there and face them alone, before they burn down this village too!”

“That’s unfair, I’m not losing my dad,” he growls.

“I lost my home!”

You’re not sure how things escalate this quickly but one second you’re at a distance growling at each other, and in another instance you lunge at him, catching him off guard. Neteyam falls on his back, as you hold him down with your legs but he’s quick enough to catch your arms before you can even touch him. You hear concerned voices in the background but your only focus is punching him.

The two of you snarl, and as you struggle to free your arms from his grip, he flips you over. Your back hits the ground with a sharp pain but it gives you just enough room to kick him in the gut. Neteyam winces in pain, yet quickly regains his composure by pinning you down, this time paying special attention to having your knees locked together.

“Skxawng,” you let out, frustrated.

He doesn’t hit you back but he does just enough to stop you from moving, his skin feeling hot against yours.

“Dude, dude,” Lo’ak runs up to him, putting his arms over his shoulders, “Get off her.”

“Not unless she calms down,” Neteyam hisses, completely unaware of the group of adults headed towards the two of you. You try to move but he pins you down again.

You catch a glimpse of Roxto and Ao'nung chuckling at the fight, while Tsireya covers her mouth in concern. Then, you spot Neytiri.

“Neteyam!” she shouts. Neteyam pauses at the sound of her voice, ears perking up.

“Shit,” Lo’ak whispers, backing away, “Neteyam, get off.”

“That’s right, get off me, you skxawng,” you say, humiliated by the position he put you in.

Defeated and angry, Neteyam shoots you a quick look, before finally releasing you from his grip. You huff out of frustration, as you sit up, trying to recover your breath. By the time Neytiri approaches the scene, Neteyam’s already standing with his head hanging low. Lo’ak stands a little behind, as if to avoid the confusion of who’s at fault.

Neytiri’s eyes run you up and down, then examine her sons, as if trying to piece together what happened. She remains quiet, before kneeling down in front of you, and taking your hand in hers. You’re all surprised by her gentle demeanor.

“Are you hurt?” she asks you, lifting your arm to examine it. Then moves to get a look at your back.

“I’m good,” you shake your head, freeing yourself from her grasp.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri stands up, now turning to her son, anger evident in her voice, “Apologize. Now.”

“Mom, they were just joking,” Lo’ak tries to tone down the situation but she shuts him up by raising her hand.

Without a second of hesitation, Neteyam nods and meets your eyes, before saying loudly for everyone to hear.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you hiss, annoyed.

“Mother, can we go now?” Lo’ak asks.

Neytiri nods, and three of them walk away. Soon enough, you can hear her scolding her oldest son. Tsireya runs up to you, helping you up to your feet.

“Y/N, are you hurt? You just recovered!” she sounds genuinely upset.

“I’m not hurt, he didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about that. I didn’t know,” she lowers her eyes to the ground, “Not until the talk you had with my father.”

“I know, I don’t blame you,” you sigh, “But why would you send him to talk to me?”

“I thought he could help,” she explains, hoping you’d understand, “Lo’ak is not talkative, and Kiri’s hasn’t been taking the change very well. Neteyam’s the only one who likes it here. So I thought he’d be the best to talk to.”

You nod. She makes a good point. But his whole attitude, the pretentious novelty, it pisses you off. Acting tough and proper when his mother is around, but in reality, selfish. He doesn’t care that you’ve lost everything because of his father. He has a new home he likes. And siblings, and parents... You feel jealous.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You are a good hunter. You have a good aim, and you’re fast. You used to think that you would be a good asset in danger but the way you froze, when you were attacked by the demons, makes you hesitant. What if that happens again? What if you come face-to-face with them and freeze?

The air outside of your room is refreshingly cold. You watch the dark sky hang over the sleepy Awa’atlu. In an attempt to clear your head, you start wandering around the village, eventually stopping at the terrace blending into the beach. Your ears perk up at faint voices, and as your eyes follow, you find two Na’vi by the water, oblivious to your presence. It looks like they are pretending to wrestle each other, letting out occasional laughs. You recall your earlier not-so-pretend fight with Neteyam and sigh out of frustration, taking a seat on the grass.

As one throws the other one to the ground, you think you recognize Neteyam. He laughs, swaying his hair, then gives a hand to help out his companion to his feet. The other Na’vi is taller than him, with broader shoulder, longer hair. Your breath catches in your throat, as you guess who that might be.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you hear a confirmation, and almost jump up.

Lo’ak is standing next to you, his gaze forward.

“Jake Sully?”

“My dad,” he confirms again.

You turn your attention back to the two Na’vi wrestling, and you watch them for a moment. Eventually, Lo’ak sits down next to you.

“Neteyam’s his favorite,” he says, “He’s the perfect son. The mighty warrior.”

“The mighty warrior?” you repeat.

“He likes to call himself that,” Lo’ak explains, “To piss me off.”

“Does it work?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “It pisses me off.”

“Why aren’t you pissed off at me?” you turn to face to him.

“Why aren’t you?” he asks in return, “You’re angry at Neteyam but not at me.”

You pause. You’re not really sure why Lo’ak joining you didn’t frustrate you, the way Neteyam’s presence would. Maybe it’s because Lo’ak seemed guilty earlier. He didn’t stand up for his dad, so there must be something both of you agree on.

“He pisses me off too,” you answer, turning your gaze back to Neteyam in the distance, “I don’t like when people pretend to care. Because once something threatens their peace, they really show how they don’t give a crap about you.”

“Neteyam doesn’t pretend about caring,” Lo’ak disagrees, “Sure, he pretends all the time but not when it comes to caring. He cares.”

“Not about me anyway,” you scoff.

Lo’ak falls silent. You got him there, you had a point. Thoughts race through your mind, as you try to comprehend what to make of this. Perhaps you judged too quickly, not knowing the whole story. What if it was your sister? Would you be willing to put at risk the peace of your village to protect her? No, that would never happen. She would face the enemy herself, not even letting you have a say in the matter.

“My father is not a bad guy,” Lo’ak interrupts your thoughts, “I’m not saying that he does everything right but… we’re all he got.”

You don’t react. You don’t really want to hear him justify his dad, make him seem vulnerable.

“He turned down his whole life for my mom. Left everything he believed in behind because he wanted to be with her,” Lo’ak continues, “Even became one of us… He is one of us.”

“Is that why…” you instinctively glance at his fingers, and Lo’ak shifts, “Is it true? Tsireya said that Eywa blessed him.”

He nods. You let out a tired sigh. It’s exhausting to think about it. His father was blessed by Eywa, he is the Toruk Makto. Who are you to disagree with the Great Mother?

“I don’t know anymore,” you admit defeated, “I just don’t think it’s fair… that others get punished. More harm can be avoided.”

“I know,” Lo’ak agrees with you, “But the demons are stronger, they never give up. We woke up to war every day back home.”

You listen to him with curiosity. You don’t know much about their past life but you wonder if the war really was a constant in the forest.

“It’s why we moved, you know?” his voice hitches, “My father knew that they were never going to let us live peacefully, so we tried hiding here instead.”

You hum. You’re not sure if it’s the tiredness creeping up on you, or genuine empathy, but you feel sorry for Lo’ak. He seems to feel at fault for the consequences of his father’s choices. It’s almost like he speaks more to himself than to you. Justifies things to ease his heart.

“Seems like they’re done,” Lo’ak gets up, “I’m gonna go before dad catches me sneaking out.”

You force a small smile, as you watch Jake and Neteyam dust the sand off their bodies. It takes you a while to move from your spot, but not quickly enough, as Neteyam spots you from a distance. He keeps his eyes on you, and you can almost feel your blood boil.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

For the next few days, things change rapidly. You notice that everyone is busy with their chores, rushing, and preparing, the feeling of danger weighing down on them. Tonowari orders for the hunters and skilled fighters to divide into pairs, assigning them to guard the island every night. Divers work on protective armors for their ilus. There is a big shift in the air.

Speaking about these measures to Tsireya gives you an unsettling feeling. You don’t talk about the Sully’s to her, even though they’re constantly on your mind. You just can’t believe that Tonowari agrees to protect them.

Tsireya’s still hesitant to bring them up when you question her about her father’s plans, even though you’re well aware that Jake Sully actively participates in the matters of protection. She doesn’t know that it’s been keeping you up every night. To trust this man to protect you, when he is the reason for the attacks. His name alone forces painful visions of your sister and her mate, crouched down on the sand, with a weapon pointed at them.

“Have you talked to Kiri, since the…?” Tsireya starts hesitantly. You haven’t. It upsets you because in a short time, you had begun to see Kiri as a friend.

“Not really,” you hang your head, “I didn’t want to attack her, it’s just…”

“I’m sure she knows,” Tsireya nods, “She protects her father but she feels guilty too. When she heard about your fight with Neteyam, she kind of scolded him.”

Tsireya bites down on her lip, hiding a small smile. You can’t really help a smile stretching your lips too. You would have loved to see Neteyam getting scolded. Just the thought of it makes you feel a little better.

“I feel bad, it’s not her fault,” you admit.

“Maybe you two can talk it out?” Tsireya asks hopefully.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Unlike the other siblings, you’ve seen plenty of Lo’ak in the past few days. Mostly because you’re only hanging out with Tsireya, and, well, Lo’ak wants to be around her. It’s silly excuses, when they sneak away, leaving you alone. She even got in trouble for wandering with him around the guarded areas.

Lo’ak doesn’t make you feel awkward. The two of you don’t really talk but neither of you feels pressured to. You like to think that you and him reached some sort of understanding the other night. Partially, you feel bad for him for having Jake Sully for his father, and Neteyam, as his older brother. As a younger sister to Tsahik, you can relate to the pressure of always reaching for, yet never getting it all.

But when it comes to seeing Neteyam in the village... The angry looks that you exchange with him when passing each other just make your whole body ache. You barely hold yourself back from hissing at him. It’s bad. You already had not one, but two people you hated.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That evening, when you return to your marui, you’re surprised to find Kiri waiting for you. She stands up, as you approach, and the two of you look at each other for a moment before you pull her into a hug.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you, the other day,” you admit, pulling away from her, “It’s not your fault.”

“I get it,” she sighs, “If I were you, I’d be mad. I’m kind of mad now.”

While you dreaded this conversation, it goes quite smoothly with Kiri. You don’t feel judgment on her side for disagreeing with her father. You think it’s unfair that the only person who makes you feel less of an outsider has to be the daughter of Jake Sully.

“I feel angry because I can’t get used to the thought of just sitting here and waiting?” you finish on a higher note, hoping that she can relate, “Because while we’re here, the demons are killing innocent Na’vi. Village by village. It’s terrifying. I just wish I could do something to protect them.”

Kiri nods and stares off into the distance, deep in her thoughts. You can feel the guilt she beares on her shoulders but she fights it to protect her family. Suddenly, she turns her head, yellow eyes glistening, like she has the brightest solution.

“Y/N, how well do you know the islands?” she asks.

“Um, there are about hundreds of them but I know roughly where the settlements."

“So if we wanted to warn them about the intruders, do you think you would be able to map them out and guide us there?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Now that you think about it, you feel like a fool for not figuring it out earlier. Why didn’t anyone?

Sure, news would travel between neighboring villages but you were forgetting that the Awa’atlu was on the very far ends of the islands. And, by the time the others were warned about the possible attacks, there would be nothing left.

When you and Kiri propose the idea of swimming to the islands, and first-hand warning their Olo’eyktans, Tonowari hesitates. Not many in his clan are familiar with the other settlements, especially within the Eastern reefs, and underestimating the time frames could cost him lives.

“We don’t have to warn everyone, just as many as we can,” you plead, “And what if we the close-located clans fight back in unions. Surely, they would respect your advice as the Olo'eyktan.”

“It worked when Toruk Makto did it,” Tonowari hums in agreement, “It would be difficult to unionize all of the islands but there is a better chance of surviving for smaller unions.”

“They at least deserve to know what’s coming, please,” you push further, and eventually gain an approving nod from him.

Quickly, small groups of the best Metkayina swimmers are formed to be assigned for the realization of the plan. While most of them are familiar with the neighboring islands, you’re the one mapping out the Eastern Sea settlements for them. And although Tonowari immediately turns down your offer of joining them, you feel slightly better for at least contributing.

You go over your roughly drawn map on the sand one more time with the final group of three Metkayina swimmers, your goal to ensure that they are aware of the safest paths to approach the villages. The group is gathered around you, listening carefully, and as you talk, you feel someone watching you from afar. It’s Neteyam. You take a moment to refocus before finding the track of your words again.

“Thank you, Y/N, we got it from here,” Sokxot, one of the swimmer says, when you finish up.

You stay to watch as they swim away on their ilus, in your mind, praying to Eywa to guide them safely to their destination. When you think you’re left alone, you’re surprised to find Neteyam here. You frown at him. What does he want? Intimidate you with his staring? You’re taken aback when he decides to approach you.

“Y/N,” his greets you with a calm voice, then points to the map you drew, “This was your idea?”

“Kiri’s,” you correct him.

“Still, you helped a lot,” Neteyam stares at the map, as if trying to memorize it. You roll your eyes at him.

“Guess I don’t like sitting and waiting for danger,”

“I really hope this makes a difference,” he says, sounding almost sincere.

You watch after him as he walks away, and let out a sigh. The two of you were too grown to act like kids.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

On the third day since their departure, two groups of Metkayina swimmers return with updates. Tonowari immediately calls for a meeting, and it's revealed that a significant number of villages have already been warned of the impending danger. The warned clans also started sending out their own swimmers, forming a whole network between the hundreds of villages.

But more importantly, you had the first case of a union between three smaller clans on the Eastern islands that managed to prepare just in time for the attack. Taken aback by the preparedness of Na’vi, the sky demons suffered greatly in numbers. Of course, the clans had casualties, but they managed to force the enemy to back away, and keep their homes safe.

It's the first good news that the Metkayina have heard in weeks, and you can see the happiness on their faces. You feel a sense of satisfaction with what you've achieved, and even Tonowari can't help but sneak a smile as he urges everyone to remain careful and calm.

To celebrate your little victory, Tsireya invites you to swim with her and the rest of her friends somewhere special. You didn’t mind that the Sully’s, especially Neteyam, were joining. You thought you would ignore him and allow yourself to enjoy being a little carefree.

Tsireya takes you to a sacred place - the Cove of Ancestors, where you could express your gratitude to Eywa by the Spirit Tree. Mesmerized by the beauty of it all, you can’t stop looking around. And judging by the reaction of the Sully kids, it’s probably their first time here too. Tsireya excitedly watches your faces, when showing you the Spirit Tree from afar. Underneath the surface of water, its roots glow with unique undertones, breathing in and out.

“Tsireya, this is incredible,” you awe, as she gives you a giddy smile.

“Come,” she waves you over, disappearing under the water.

With Tsireya, Kiri, Lo’ak, and Ao’nung disappear too. Distracted by the sight around you, you fall a little behind, and find yourself not too far from Neteyam. He is not a bad swimmer but he is definitely slow compared to you.

You’re not really thinking about it, when you stay back to watch him. It’s almost entertaining how greedily his eyes take in the surroundings, seeming almost golden in this light. A smile tugs at your lips.

Your skin shivers, as a cool wind wraps around your body. Then you notice it. A single woodsprite appears in the air, flying around you and grazing your skin. You feel blessed to witness a sign of the Great Mother, but as you reach out to gently touch it, it moves away. Your smile fades, when the seed starts floating around Neteyam’s head. Is Eywa trying to tell you something? Maybe you were being too harsh with him.

With another blow of the wind, the woodsprite disappears, leaving Neteyam completely oblivious to what just happened. When he turns around and meets your gaze, your throat tightens. His expression is unreadable. What is he thinking?

“I should probably catch up with the rest,” you clear your throat.

Neteyam only nods, and as you swim past him, it almost seems like you catch a hint of disappointment on his face. You can’t be distracted by the sign right now.

When you reach the Tree and submerge, you find Tsireya, Lo’ak, and Ao'nung already linking their queues to the roots. Trying not to disturb them, you quietly swim to the opposite side, bringing out your queue. From the corner of your eye, you spot Neteyam but you decide to ignore him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Words cannot describe how healed you feel, when you open your eyes. As if your inner and outer worlds have finally merged again, making you whole. With a smile, you swim up to the surface to reunite with the rest of the group, ready to share your happiness, when you notice troubled expressions on their faces.

“Did anyone see Kiri before we came here?” Lo’ak asks, and everyone shakes their heads, “Shit, Neteyam.”

“She said she’d swim a bit more before joining us by the Tree,” Tsireya replies.

“Alright, everyone, let’s divide and start looking for her,” Neteyam orders, calling out to his ilu.

It doesn’t take much convincing, as quickly, one by one, all of you get on your ilus and disperse.

Tsireya’s story about Kiri falling asleep in the water resurfaces in your mind. It happened before, right? Kiri is probably fine, you try to convince yourself, but you can’t help the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

As you swim up for a breath, you take a deep dive again, determined to search for Kiri in the depths of the water. Silent prayers to Eywa express your gratitude, when your gaze is drawn to a small figure hidden between tall leaves. Your heart skips a beat as you realize what you are seeing: Kiri's whole body is glowing with an otherworldly light. In all your years, you have never seen anything quite like it.

Noticing that she has begun to violently shake, you quickly swim to Kiri, and gently pull her queue away, forcing her body to go limp. Desperately, you try to get her out of the leaves, but it seems that the harder you try, the tighter they grip her limbs.

Your mind starts racing, and panic begins to set in, when you suddenly see a pair of hands cutting down the leaves around Kiri's body with a small knife. Right, a knife! You take out yours and start helping. With the last of the leaves cut, Kiri's body begins to float upwards. Neteyam quickly wraps his arm around her middle, and signals for you to follow, as he places her on his ilu and swims to the surface.

You race after him, your heart pounding in your chest. As you break the surface, Neteyam’s already positioning Kiri’s body on a flat rock, gently shaking her. You join him, noting how calm and collected he seems.

“Neteyam, there’s something wrong. She was still linked and shaking, when I found her,” your voice breaks.

“Shit,” he curses, and checks for Kiri’s breath.

You watch as he starts performing something strange: Neteyam breathes air into Kiri’s mouth, then starts counting as he presses down on her chest in an unfamiliar rhythm. A wave of fear washes over you, when you notice his hands start shaking.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Neteyam curses again, “Help me, please.”

“I don’t know what to do, Neteyam,” you panic, “She’s not breathing!”

“When I stop pressing, just try to breathe out as much air as you can into her mouth,” he orders, and continues counting.

“Alright, alright,” you try to calm yourself down.

You do your best following his instructions, and it seems to put him back on track too. But as time drags on, and Kiri still doesn't respond, both of you begin to feel a sense of despair.

Just as you're about to give up hope, Kiri moves weakly beneath you, and finally takes a breath on her own. You let out a sigh of relief, tears streaming down your face.

“It worked,” Neteyam’s eyes glisten, as he checks for her breathing.

"We need to take her to Tsahik, right now," you breathe out, and he nods.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Everything afterwards happens in a blur of confusion. Your heart races, as you nervously pace around Tsahik’s marui, where Kiri is getting examined by a group of strangers: a Na’vi wearing human clothes, and two sky people who arrived on a flying ship. Jake and Neteyam are with them in the room, talking and talking, but you can’t quite understand.

There is a tension in the air when Neytiri returns with Ronal. She raises her voice at them, and before you can even begin to wonder what's going on, the men exit the marui, leaving the women alone. You catch a glimpse of Jake as he passes by you, and for a moment, you feel struck by his presence.

He looks tired and scared, like he has been suffering for a long time now. You recall your conversation with Lo’ak. While in your mind you are convinced that he is the bad guy, seeing him in this state makes you feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

“You don’t have to wait,” Neteyam pulls you out of your thoughts. His words are not necessarily ill-intended, but you still feel out of place.

“I want to make sure she’s alright,” you explain. Neteyam only nods, “What are they saying?”

He falls silent, as if contemplating whether he needs to reveal to you whatever he knows.

“She’s going to be better, right?” your voice hitches.

“Hey, hey,” he crouches down next to you, “Of course, she will. Kiri is very strong.”

It’s only a second of vulnerability showing on his side, before the usual mask slips back onto his face, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking. At all. Both of your attentions are quickly drawn back to the marui, when Ronal steps out. Jake rushes to her side, with Neteyam and you close on his heels.

“She is weak but the Great Mother granted her another chance,” Ronal answers, “Now, she needs her rest.”

“Thank you,” Jake expresses with sincerity in his voice, before disappearing into the marui. From the inside, you hear soft sobs. Neteyam hesitates to take a step, glancing back at you.

“Go in, see for yourself,” you encourage him, and he complies.

At the risk of interrupting their family moment, you sit down slightly far from the marui, waiting. You’re not sure how much time passes, when Jake walks out. You shift uncomfortably when he approaches you.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he clears his throat, as he crouches in front of you, “You saved my daughter.”

“I only found her,” you admit, “If it wasn’t for Neteyam…”

“You did well, you got to her just in time,” Jake interrupts, “Neteyam said that you even helped him with chest compressions.”

“I don’t know what that even was,” you genuinely chuckle. You only guessed it was something borrowed from the sky people.

“Yet you saved her, thank you,” he insists with a small smile.

You look at him, trying to read his face. There’s something in his eyes that suggests he’s being genuine. He breaks the silence again, this time his tone more careful.

“I know about your fight with Neteyam. He didn’t want to tell me the reason but I guessed it was something serious. There’s really not many things to get him to act like that.”

“I can’t possibly agree or understand your decisions,” you remain calm, despite the rushing heat to your face, “I think it’s unfair.”

“I know, I’m not always making the best decisions,” he shakes his head, “And I get why you don’t like me much but I can’t risk losing my family.”

“You don’t have to,” you interrupt, “If you just go out there alone, they’ll stop hurting everybody else.”

“I wish it had been that easy. I don’t even care about my own death anymore, but I just know it won’t be enough,” he seems defeated, “They will come for my family next. Everything that I care for, and more. They did once already.”

“But aren’t you the one they’re looking for?”

“It’s grown beyond vengeance at this point,” Jake shakes his head, “They caught Lo’ak and Kiri once, and Tuk… they had Tuk. If anything happened to them, I don’t know what I would have done. We barely got them out, it was…”

“Must have been terrifying,” you finish for him. You think back to your sister getting caught, held at a gunpoint, and your chest hurts with sudden empathy for him.

As a father, it must be times more terrifying for him to see his kids in the hands of an enemy. It makes sense now: the great Toruk Makto had a weak spot.

“I think I get it,” you nod in understanding, “When they captured my sister... I have never been more scared in my life. It still keeps me up every night.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake sighs, “Do you know if she’s…?”

“Alive? I don’t know. She promised to come looking for me, once it’s safe but it’s been weeks now,” your voice hitches, “When they were about to capture me, she pushed me out of the way, which really pissed them off. Especially their chief.”

“I hope you get to see her again,” Jake reaches out, to pat you on your shoulder. You let him, “It is honorable to sacrifice yourself for the other to live. Eywa will bless her for keeping you alive.”

“I feel like I failed her, hiding here,” you look away in an attempt to hide the tears filling up your eyes, “I should have stayed there.”

“It’s not your fault, kid, you did your best,” Jake gently touches your chin to turn your face back to him. When he notices your tears, his eyebrows knit together in worry, “She would be proud of you.”

A small sob escapes your lips, and you feel ashamed to break down in front of him. You’re caught off guard, when Jake pulls you into a hug. It’s strangely comforting how tight it feels in your throat, as you bury your face in his chest, letting yourself silently cry. You feel him pat you on the back, until you can finally slowly recover your breath.

“Dad?” Neteyam’s voice grabs both of your attention. He leans against the entrance of the marui, looking confused between the two of you.

You instantly pull away from Jake, hanging your head in a mix of strange emotions. It’s not every day that you receive comfort from the very person you thought was your enemy.

“I’ll be right there,” Jake says, standing up, “Do you want to see her, Y/N?”

You nod in gratitude, wiping away your tears before following Jake. As you enter, Neteyam gives you a puzzled look, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell you and his father were talking about. Your eyes land on Neytiri, sat by Kiri’s side, holding her hand in hers.

“How is she?” Jake asks, sitting down next to his mate and pulling her into his side.

“She is going to be better, once she rests,” Neytiri answers quietly, returning her eyes to Kiri, and stroking her cheek, “My child.”

You feel out of place in the presence of the Sully family. Just a few days ago, you thought you hated Jake, and now you find yourself caring for his family.

You suddenly realize that if he knows about your fight with Neteyam, then Neytiri surely knows too. You can't help but wonder if she hates you. Standing there, you feel like an intruder, interrupting their vulnerable moment.

“Y/N,” Neytiri's voice pulls you out of your thoughts, “Thank you for saving my child.”

“You did good, kid,” Jake adds, then turns his gaze to Neteyam, “Both of you.”

As you open your mouth to protest, Neytiri cuts you off with a firm tone.

“Get some rest. You too, Neteyam.”

As much as you want to say something, anything, there's a strange authority in Neytiri's voice that makes it impossible to disobey. It's strange because she reminds you of your mother - strong, stubborn, yet caring. You were never able to disobey your mother.

“It’s okay, kid, you can check on Kiri later,” Jake encourages.

With a grateful nod, you leave the marui. Neteyam silently follows you out.

“Um, I should probably go tell the others now,” he grabs your attention.

“Yes, Lo’ak must be worried,” you agree with him.

Lo’ak wasn’t allowed to be with you in the marui. He was staying with Tuk, until further instructions, whereas Tsireya and Ao'nung got scolded by their mother for not keeping an eye on Kiri, and were sent home right away. Neteyam and you were the only ones who were overlooked in the matter.

“Thank you for helping me back there,” he scratches his head, “If it wasn’t for you, I could’ve lost her.”

“I don’t think I deserve the credit here, ‘Teyam,” you pause.

Did you just call him by his nickname? ‘Teyam? Do you think you’re friends? Shit.

His eyes widen and you catch just a tiniest hint of a small smile before he bites down on his lip to hide it.

“Neteyam,” you correct yourself, “I froze when I couldn’t get her out of those leaves. I can’t believe I forgot about my knife.”

“Hey, and I panicked. But in the end, we kind of made a good team,” he snorts.

“Right,” you chuckle at the irony.

Because you’re both headed in the same direction, Neteyam and you walk together in silence. After a while, he catches your attention again.

“I saw you talking to my father,” he hesitates before meeting your eyes, “Can I ask you about it?”

“You can ask him if you want.”

“So it went badly?” Neteyam guesses.

“No, not half as bad as I expected,” you stop in your tracks, before admitting, “Actually, I think I kind of get it.”

Neteyam only nods but you’re not sure if he really understands the value behind your words. He hopes that it means a change of your perception but deep down, he still feels a little scared. You don’t talk for the rest of the way but you don’t seem bothered by his presence, your thoughts now occupied with the woodsprite you saw earlier. Maybe Eywa was right and the two of you can mend this after all.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Y/N,” Tsireya’s soft voice wakes you up. She has a bright smile on her face, “Kiri’s awake! I thought you’d like to see her.”

Together, you make your way towards Tsahik’s marui, already noticing the Sully’s and friends coming and going. Tsireya pulls you along with her, but miscalculates her grip, causing you to bump into someone. It’s Neteyam. You can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Mawey, Y/N,” he grins, as he steadies you by your shoulders. You can hear Ao’nungs low chuckle but ignore him.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Tsireya whispers to you.

“I’m fine,” you smile at her, then turn back to Neteyam. He still keeps his hands on you, “Neteyam.”

“Good morning to you too,” he says, finally lowering his hands. Still, you’re too close to each other.

Before things get more awkward, Kiri’s voice breaks the tension. She calls out your name, and you rush to join her by the mat, taking her hands in yours with worry. Kiri weakly smiles in response.

“I promise, I am doing better,” she reassures you, “And for that I have to thank my saviors! You hear that?” she loudly asks.

“I was worried sick for you, and you’re joking,” you roll your eyes at her, but can’t help a giddy smile. You’re glad she’s back to her normal self. You stay with her for some time, questioning her about her health, as she tries to swat you away.

“Out, out, Kiri has to eat!” Neytiri’s voice interrupts your small exchange, “And rest!”

She walks in with a bowl of cut up fruits in her hands, on her way managing to usher out some of the visitors.

“Mom,” Kiri whines annoyedly.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That night you’re haunted by a nightmare. You’re swimming in the crystal-clear water, the warm sun rays piercing your eyes with a satisfying itch. From afar, you make out the beach which you would recognize anywhere: you’re back home, in your village. As you dive into the depths, you suddenly feel a hand clasping yours but the feeling is familiar. It’s your sister, swimming alongside you.

You smile. It reminds you of the old times, when you were little, spending your time swimming and holding hands with your sister, so none of you gets lost. Suddenly, the darkness engulfs you, making it hard to see. You look up to find a massive cloud forming in the sky, and you try to pull your sister with you to the surface. But she doesn’t budge, instead letting go of your hand with a small smile. Gasping for air, you break the surface, before diving back in for her, but this time she’s even farther away from you. You try to reach her again again and again, but each time the air in your lungs gets thinner, as she slips further away, eventually hitting the bottom.

You wake up, with your sister’s name lingering on your lips. It’s still dark outside, and too early for the morning. To clear your head, you head towards the trees, deeper on the island.

As you push through the dense bushes, you finally reach a small clearing nestled between tall trees. Then bang! All of a sudden someone throws you off your feet, hitting your back against the ground, and you see a familiar face hover above you. He’s so close, you can feel his braids grazing your skin. Neteyam. You growl.

“What the hell?” you slap his chest angrily, but he doesn’t budge, his arms firmly planted by the sides of your face. His knee rests between your thighs, restricting your movement.

“This is a familiar pose,” he smirks, and you roll your eyes at him, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

You notice a headpiece he’s wearing that you’ve never seen on him before. It looks like the ones that guardians assigned by Tonowari wear during their shifts.

“I was trying to clear my head. Why aren’t you?”

“I’m guarding,” he smiles, “This very same area, by the way.”

“You’re a guardian?” you snort.

Neteyam shakes his head amused, swaying his braids over your skin. Almost mocking you.

“Get off me,” you lightly slap his chest again, but he has something else on his mind. To tease you further, he pins your arms, and pushes his knee against you, right between your thighs.

You know that it’s innocent on his side, but your body reacts differently, separate from your mind. You feel blood rush to your face, as your ears, like a pair of wings, suddenly flutter in pleasure. Of course this doesn’t escape his eyes. You can see his pupils dilate, and an unreadable expression covering his face. You want to hide and scream out of embarrassment.

“Please,” you plead, and he pulls away from you so fast, it’s almost like he takes a leap.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he apologizes, keeping a small distance between you.

He’s embarrassed too, you think. He doesn’t meet your eyes, but you can almost see how hundreds of thoughts are rushing through his brain in an attempt to change the subject. You sit up, dusting off your skin in uncomfortable silence, until he finally dares to speak up.

“Do you want me to walk you back?” he scratches his head, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“No,” your voice is so low. Shit, “I need to clear my head.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asks gently.

You stand up, to dust the remains off your back and knees. You feel Neteyam’s eyes roaming over your body.

“I saw my sister in my dream,” you finally answer, “It just confused me more.”

“Confused you about what?”

“The signs. I can’t figure out what Eywa is trying to tell me.”

“Tell me,” Neteyam offers, it’s not an order.

You hesitate. Opening up to him out of all Na’vi? To be fair, you’d rather tell someone who doesn’t care about you, who would just listen for the sake of curiosity, not pity or empathy. But also he looks so sincere and trustworthy. Is the tiredness suddenly affecting your perception of him?

“Well,” you sigh, “Ever since my parents died, I could feel their presence whenever I talked to Eywa. And the other day, by the Spirit Tree, I thought that if my sister were dead, then I’d feel her too. But I couldn’t.”

“And the nightmare makes you think otherwise?”

“Yes. In the nightmare, we were swimming but every time I tried pulling her with me to the surface, to get her out, she wouldn’t budge. It’s like she didn’t want to be saved.”

“A nightmare can be just a nightmare, Y/N,” Neteyam pats your shoulder to comfort you.

“This was different,” you shake your head in disagreement, “I can feel it. I just wish I didn’t get my hopes up.”

Faint voices catch your attention. Neteyam’s ears perk up, as he focuses on the sounds in the distance, suddenly very aware of his surroundings.

"What do you hear?" you ask but he brings his thumb to your lips, shushing you.

“If the other guards hear you, they’ll take me off the duty.”

It feels like an eternity as he keeps his thumb over your lips. He stares off into darkness but all you can do is look at him. You admire how the moonlight highlights his features, his freckles and eyes glowing in the dark. His breathing is slow, strangely calming. You can’t help but think that the headpiece suits him even though it doesn’t prevent some of his braids escaping and framing his face. It’s almost funny how they seem to have a life on their own, swaying from left to right with every small movement he makes.

There is a flutter in your chest, as you realize how handsome he is. Shit. Maybe you’re just tired.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, lowering his hand from your face, and it finally seems to catch his attention. You let your fingers linger on his skin for a little longer before letting go.

“Your purpose is to get me in trouble, isn’t it?” Neteyam smiles.

“What?” you frown at him.

“First, it was the fighting, now you happen to sneak away to the area I guard, so I get busted?”

“I didn’t intentionally -” you start justifying yourself but he’s quick to interrupt.

“I know, I’m kidding.”

Kidding. You admit that, given your history, it is a little funny. You can’t help but smile back.

The exhaustion seems to creep up on you, as you let out a yawn.

“I am probably going to regret this,” Neteyam mumbles, as if more to himself, than to you, “You know how Kiri sometimes falls asleep in random places?”

“Yeah?”

“Since you don’t want to go back to your bed, you can crash here,” he scratches his forehead, slightly embarrassed, as he points to the patch of grass in front of you.

“You want me to sleep here?” you snort.

“I’m just saying, give it a try. I promise I will be on the lookout.”

You consider it for a second. It sounds ridiculous but the lush grass does seem inviting, softer than your bed. Another yawn creeps up on you. Is it bad that you want to stay here for a while?

“I-I’m not sure I can sleep here,” you admit. Not under his gaze anyway.

“Oh, come on, it’s easy,” he suddenly warms up.

Neteyam stretches out on the grass and waves you over with the biggest grin.

“This is what Kiri does. She just lies down, relaxes, and just like that, she’s off to her dream world,” Neteyam imitates his sister, “Come on.”

“Alright,” you give up, as you walk over to him.

You know it’s innocent but you still feel nervous. Neteyam pats the grass next to him, encouraging you to lay down. You comply, and he watches you relax, as he tousles some of the grass beneath your head. This was a bad idea.

“Feels good, right?” he asks, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It does.

“I’m starting to understand why Kiri falls asleep so easily,” you say, and hear him chuckle.

“Right? Sleeping outside is way more fun. There is just something about the open sky,” he sighs, “It reminds me of home.”

You keep your eyes closed but you can sense Neteyam’s still watching you.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Oh, nothing,” he sounds flustered, like he got caught, “I just thought you had fallen asleep already.”

“Neteyam?”

“Hm?”

You turn your head to look at him, meeting his curious golden eyes.

“Can you tell me something? I’m not too sleepy yet,” you admit.

“What would you like to hear?” his voice is soft. So soft, you have to tense your ears to hear him.

And he talks. It was easy to guess that Neteyam would speak about the things he values the most, about his family. You’re conflicted between hearing him out and discovering this new world you never knew existed, or leaving him here alone to avoid the guilt weighing down on you.

He tells you about his mother with pride, about her accomplishments and how she stood up for the things she believed in. He mentions that her clan was closely acquainted with the ‘good’ sky people who lived near the rainforest where he was born. These were the ones that tried helping Kiri yesterday. He also tells you about his father, who came from a star, and how he was almost killed by his mother before being saved by Eywa. He speaks fondly of his grandfather, whom he was told to look like, and who was a skilled warrior and protector of his clan, despite never having known him personally. And he tells you about his grandmother, who was strict but deeply loving. He missed her everyday since moving.

As Neteyam talks about the rainforest, his eyes light up with excitement. His descriptions are so vivid and detailed that you can almost see the towering trees, the creatures, and the weapons used by the Omatikaya. At times, he has to articulate with his hands and body to explain it. You feel your tiredness slip away. The more he talks, the more intrigued you get by his life, his stories.

At some point, you overtake the conversation, telling him about your home. You’re rushing through your words because there is so much you want to share. As if its pure existence depends on how much you can recall. At first, Neteyam has a guilty expression that eventually turns into a curious one. Sure, he’s been living with a water clan for months now but the way he reacted to your stories could make you think that he had never even seen water up close.

Hours pass, as your voices get smaller, and drowsiness completely takes over the two of you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you wake up, you feel slightly restrained around your middle. You’re holding onto Neteyam’s arm, wrapped around your middle, and your legs intertwined. Shit.

“Neteyam,” you turn around, slightly shoving him, “”Teyam.”

He slowly opens his eyes, blinking the sleep away. It takes a moment for him to focus on you. So close, you think. Too close.

“Do you mind?” you gesture at his arm.

Neteyam’s a little slow in the morning, you notice. His eyes lazily follow your movement, roam over your body, as if trying to understand what happened, until he finally realizes. You swear, for a second you hear a faint flutter of his ears.

Your eyes snap back at him, and he sheepishly smiles, pulling away.

“Finally,” you mumble, as you get off the grass, “I should…I should go, I promised Tsireya that we’ll do this thing, um, in the morning.” Why can’t you lie?

“Right, and my shift’s over, so my mom will be looking for me,” Neteyam nods his head.

“Uh, well, I’ll see you around then?” you hesitate.

“Sure.”

Is he brushing you off? Slightly embarrassed, you turn around and walk ahead. When you hear his voice call out to you, your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Friends?”

You pause for a second, then nod with a smile. His face lightens up. Let’s try.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Trying is definitely a good word to describe this new friendship you’re developing with Neteyam. Within a group, you still keep your distance. So much, that it almost seems like your friendship is supposed to be a secret. You’re scared of being called a hypocrite if you get too close. But you were on good terms with Lo’ak, and basically best friends with Kiri, so there’s really no reason for anyone to call you that. Ugh, but it’s different. Neteyam is different.

When you’re hanging out with the group, you’re always distracted, keeping an eye on him. He doesn't seem as interested in you though. On the contrary, his attention is divided between disciplining his siblings and breaking apart Ao’nung and Kiri from biting off each other’s heads.

Very rarely, in those quiet moments when you go to swim by yourself, you can catch him watching you from a distance. You find it hard to read his expressions, Neteyam is too good at hiding whatever he’s feeling. You, not so much.

Ever since your talk with Jake, and the night you spent with Neteyam, you have conflicted feelings. You’re not sure where you stand anymore. Having voiced your opinions loudly on your first days, you almost expect to pick another fight with him. But you also kind of dread it.

And the tension between you is not anger anymore. He’s still annoying at times but you learned to find it amusing, rather than frustrating. Sometimes, when he looks at you, your heart jumps. And well, it’s not looking good for you.

In those rare moments when you two are left alone, you bicker. It’s strange because you’re almost convinced that he enjoys provoking you on purpose. Neteyam thinks that his responsibility as a guard gives him some sort of control over you. He likes to play the savior.

“Hey, I’m neither Lo’ak, or Kiri, you can’t boss me around!” you frown, after he suggests you don’t go for a swim past the curfew.

“As a guardian, I make sure that everyone’s staying safe,” he raises his eyebrows, like he already won the argument.

“Isn’t your job looking out for the outsiders? Like humans? With weapons, you know? Not terrorizing me for wanting to swim!”

“I sometimes really think you’re doing this on purpose just to see how far you can push me.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Time really seems to stretch out when you don’t get news from the other islands for a few days. Tonowari doubles the guardians around the village, and sends out a small group of swimmers for updates. It must be bad.

“Do you know anything?” you ask Tsireya.

Tsireya tries to be the best daughter to her parents but hanging out around you, the Sully’s, and her brother even, really challenges her sometimes. She knows she’s not supposed to tell you anything but when you all look at her in anticipation, she gives up eventually. To be a good brother, Ao'nung beats her to it from time to time.

“Tsireya?” Lo’ak pushes, knowing just the tone to use on her.

“You can’t tell anyone, I mean,” she looks at Kiri, “The last time the demons attacked one of the villages was a few days ago. The reason we didn’t get any news was because they wiped it out. Completely.”

You see her eyes glisten with tears, and hang your head in defeat. There really isn’t anything you can do, huh? No matter how hard you try. Nothing at all.

“Tsireya, what else?” Kiri wraps her arm around her shoulders.

“And… our attempts to save these clans are turning out to be more damaging,” she sniffles, “Now that the sky demons know that Na’vi are armed, they have doubled their forces. And they are more brutal. Some of the clans think of running from the islands before they get caught.”

“Shit,” Lo’ak curses, “But your dad must have a plan, right? My parents were with him the whole day yesterday. I can tell they’re hiding something.”

“Lo’ak, I can’t tell you,” Tsireya pleads with him.

“They want to take out their chief,” Ao’nung suddenly speaks, “They suggested luring him out and killing him.”

“But your father said he won’t be attacking first,” Lo’ak frowns.

“That’s right, my father won’t. But your father considers it.”

Ao’nung words send the group into a panic, as everyone starts talking, asking for more information. You gulp down, trying to ignore this anxious feeling in your chest. Once again, painful images of your burning home appear in front of you.

Knowing that your plan has caused the destruction of another village makes you feel like shit. This can’t be happening. You can feel yourself losing your grip on your breathing as your body begins to shake. The others continue to talk, but their words become muffled and indistinct, drowned out by the noise in your ears.

“Mawey,” Neteyam whispers to you, taking your hand in his, “Just breathe, Y/N.”

You nod but your body won’t comply. The longer you can’t seem to breathe, the shakier you get. Neteyam squeezes your hand, and starts loudly breathing in and out of his mouth.

“Just follow my lead, alright? Breathe in,” he waits for you to repeat after him, “And out. Right, just like that.”

After many attempts of repeating after him, you finally seem to calm down your breathing, and your heartbeat slows into its natural rhythm.

“Good girl,” he gives your hand another squeeze, “Are you alright?”

“I need to get out of here,” you whisper to him.

“Then let’s go,” he says, pulling you to your feet. You don’t protest.

When both of you walk away, still holding hands, you feel everyone’s eyes turn to you. Ugh. You’re definitely going to be questioned to death for this by Kiri and Tsireya, though right now you don’t care. You just want to be somewhere else.

Neteyam leads you towards the trees. When you reach a small stream, he comes to a stop.

“Hey, you feeling better?” he asks softly, still holding your hand. You nod, looking down at his fingers tightly wrapped around your palm.

“I feel so guilty, for causing more pain,” your eyes start filling up with tears, as you rush through your words, “ I’m scared that we won’t be able to stop them. And I do this thing where I freeze in the most dangerous situations, it’s like my mind takes me to a bad place.”

“Y/N,” Neteyam’s voice is concerned, “I promise, nothing will happen to you.”

“But it’s nightmares every night. I swear, I sometimes can’t tell them apart from the reality,” you admit, looking back at him.

“Mawey, you’ll get through this,” Neteyam comforts you, “I trust you because I know you have a strong heart. But Y/N… what’s happening to you is very familiar.”

“In what way?” Neteyam sighs before opening his mouth.

“My father has this same response sometimes, like panicking and losing your breath. The nightmares. He says that it can happen when one suffers through something very bad, like war, or losing someone close.”

“Well, how did he stop it?” you frown at him.

“He didn’t. You can’t really stop it,” he shakes his head, with a pained expression on his face, “But my mother helps him.”

“How?”

“She talks to distract him. Reminds him that it’s in the past.,” Neteyam answers, then gestures at your hands still interlocked, “She holds him.”

You nod, and squeeze his hand in appreciation. A few tears escape from your eyes, as you look away. Neteyam brings his hand to your face, wiping them away.

“Don’t cry.”

“Am not,” you sniffle.

“Seriously, don’t,” Neteyam grazes your cheek with his thumb, “It upsets me.”

“Why would you care?” you snort.

“Oh, because it’s creepy!” he teases, making you smile, “Seeing you cry is probably going to send the rest of our friends to Eywa.”

“Shut it,” you smack him, but he only laughs.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsireya suggests adding beads into your hair, as she works on your braids. Usually, you would have your hair in small braids, but she convinced you to try out a hairstyle similar to hers: braids at the roots, to prevent hair from falling into your eyes, and letting the rest flow in its natural way. You roll your eyes at the way Tsireya beams at you but you’re secretly happy to be distracted.

The two of you sit on the grass terrace, with two Elderly Na’vi not too far. They seem to enjoy watching Tsireya’s wonders on your hair, and you feel infinitely thankful to them, when Kiri plops down in front of you. She can’t grill you with her questions in their presence.

“Kiri, are you next?” Tsireya asks her, a hint of hope in her tone.

“No, my hair’s too short for all of that,” Kiri gestures at Tsireya’s long curls.

“Nonsense, I think it would look very pretty on you.”

Tsireya continues convincing Kiri, while she works on your braids, when suddenly you sense a movement. The Elderly Na’vi, now seemingly disinterested, walk away, leaving the three of you to yourselves. Oh, sweet Eywa, please don’t.

“So…Y/N,” Kiri beats you to your silent prayer, “You and Neteyam.”

“What about me and Neteyam?” you quirk your eyebrow at her. You’re going to play dumb.

“What’s happening between you?” she squints at you, “And please don’t tell me that you’re in love with him.”

“Oh but I think they would look great together,” Tsireya adds in her dreamy voice. Shit.

“What are you two talking about?” you roll your eyes, heat rushing to your cheeks, “He’s annoying.”

“But like in a cute way?” Kiri tries to crack you.

“In a way that makes your heart flutter?” Tsireya adds.

“Are you thinking about Lo’ak right now?” you turn to look at Tsireya with a sly smile. If you just get to switch the topic, you will give yourself a small window to flee. She looks taken aback.

“Hey, don’t distract us!” Kiri interrupts, waving at you, “It’s alright, Tsireya, we all know he likes you back.”

Tsireya gulps down in embarrassment but doesn’t say anything. Kiri stares at you expectantly.

“What?”

“You were holding hands,” she states.

“I hold hands with Tsireya all the time too,” you’re definitely overplaying, “Neteyam and I are just trying to be more…civil.”

“Yet when you were panicking, it was Neteyam, and not Tsireya, holding your hand and taking you to the trees,” Kiri notes.

Is she playing a smartass? Caught off guard, your eyes widen.

“Why did you go into the trees, Y/N? Were you doing something you didn’t want us to see?” Kiri pushes, trying to crack you.

“Stop it,” you hiss at her.

“I just find it disgusting that he would go for my friend, right after Lo’ak already stole Tsireya from me,” Kiri crosses her arms in front of her chest, “All of you are inconsiderate.”

“A brother for a brother,” Tsireya whispers, and you can’t help but laugh.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kiri raises her voice.

“Come on, Kiri. Ao'nung is always flirting with you,” you explain, then wince in pain, as Tsireya pulls on your hair.

“Sorry!” she apologizes immediately, “I was just agreeing with you, didn’t mean to pull your hair.”

“You two are unbelievable. Ao’nung is terrible. No offense, Tsireya,” Kiri denies, “And don’t switch topics here, Y/N! You and Neteyam were jumping at each other’s throats since you met, now suddenly you consider him a friend? What happened?”

“Well, there was this time when we had to team up to save your ass,” you tease, enjoying Kiri’s escalating anger, “No, but really. I think we were just really scared for you.”

“Ooh,” the two of them awe in unison, “So that’s it?”

“And Eywa,” you mumble under your breath.

“Eywa?” Kiri’s ears perk up, as she leans in. Right away, Tsireya drops your hair, as she quickly positions herself next to Kiri, her attention now fully on you.

“Well… back when we went to the Spirit Tree, he and I fell a little behind. Then I saw a woodsprite floating around us. Neteyam had his back turned, so he didn’t even notice.”

“Do you think Eywa wants you two -” Kiri doesn’t finish.

“No, it was more of a sign for me to stop resenting him,” you shake your head in embarrassment, “So now I’m trying to listen and be nice to him.”

“That makes sense. Eywa wouldn’t bless you as a couple anyway, it’s too soon,” Kiri says.

“No, it’s not,” Tsireya disagrees, “They’re both capable of choosing mates before Eywa.”

Kiri opens her mouth to protest but then decides against it.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not the time,” you shake your head, and the girls seem to agree with you, “And Neteyam is not the one. He is my friend. So please stop teasing me for giving him a chance.”

Content with your answer, Kiri drops it. You suspect that Tsireya hasn’t been fully convinced by your words but she is too kind to keep pushing you. You give her a grateful smile for understanding. If anything, she can relate in some way.

Speak of the devil… When you see Neteyam approaching you, you can feel the girls’ eyes on you, looking for a reaction. Neteyam throws a quick look at you, slightly surprised by your hair, but says nothing. He doesn’t like it? You feel a little insecure.

“Hey,” he bows quickly, “Kiri, mother wants you back at home for dinner.”

Kiri rolls her eyes but gets up from the grass. Tsireya follows.

“My family is probably waiting for me too.”

“You’re lucky you have no one telling you what to do, Y/N,” Kiri blurts out, then covers her mouth.

“Kiri!” Tsireya tsks at her, but it’s a little too late.

When it came to dinners, you were mostly having them alone, or sometimes skipping them at all. For your first two weeks, Tsireya would drag you to her house for every single meal but eventually you restarted hunting and actually enjoyed preparing your own meals.

“Y/N, you coming to our place tonight?” Tsireya encourages.

You prepare yourself to politely decline her invitation but Neteyam beats you to it.

“Actually, what do you think about joining us instead?” he asks softly.

Both Tsireya, Kiri and you look at him in surprise. He had never invited you directly in front of others. Not even Kiri has. And the idea of you spending the evening with his father. Yikes. Sure, you somewhat felt more comfortable seeing Jake in the village but sitting in front of him for dinner is totally different.

“Um, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you mumble.

“Nonsense, Y/N, now that I think about it, I should have invited you a long time ago,” Kiri suddenly jumps in, “And after you saved my ass. Mom and dad would love to thank you.”

“Especially my mom,” Neteyam adds.

If they think they’re making a good point, they must be completely unaware of how uncomfortable you feel around Neytiri. She is intimidating, you think. You can never even talk to her.

“Well?” Neteyam nudges you with a warm smile.

You bite your lip, trying to think of an excuse. Any excuse. But your head is empty, as the three of them look at you expectantly. Tsireya nods her head at you with an encouraging smile.

“If you’re sure,” you admit your defeat.

Happily, Kiri swings her arm around you, leading you towards their marui.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Sully's marui is bigger than yours, it’s not surprising. They are a family of six after all, you are a single child. Still, you think that you could never live with so many people: losing your parents at a young age made you well acquainted with sharing a room with only one person at a time. Now you share it with no one.

When you shyly walk in, you think your heart is going to jump out of your chest. Kiri pulls you by your hand.

“Mom, dad,” Neteyam grabs their attention, “We invited Y/N to share today’s meal with us.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake’s ears perk up, as he stands up with a small smile. You bow. Little Tuk copies her father as she runs up to you, curiously examining you.

“I hope it’s okay,” you smile sheepishly.

“It’s good that you came. You need to eat well,” Neytiri walks up to you with a bowl of food in her hands.

“Mom,” Kiri rolls her eyes, “Y/N eats fine, stop.”

“Not fine enough for a hunter,” Neytiri turns to you, “A good hunter must look after themselves. So eat.”

You nod your head with a small chuckle escaping your lips, as you take the bowl from her. Neteyam gives you a proud smile.

When all of you are seated to eat, Lo’ak rushes into the marui, barely catching his breath.

“Sorry I’m late,” he throws, quickly sitting down next to you, “Oh, hi, Y/N.”

You greet him back, then notice a non-verbal exchange between the siblings. They seem to be doing this way too often. Lo’ak shoots a questioning look at Neteyam, but Neteyam just rolls his eyes at him, and returns to his food. Lo’ak tries again with Kiri. Kiri shrugs her shoulders, then smiles pointing at Neteyam with her eyes. Lo’ak snorts.

“Lo’ak,” Jake grumbles.

“Sorry,” Lo’ak gets back to his bowl without being able to retrieve his smile.

At first, you feel awkward. While they exchange some news with each other, you don’t participate, simply observing them from underneath your lashes. Tuk excitedly tells about her new friendship with a young ilu. Lo’ak shares that he was swimming with Payakan. Jake gives him a displeased look but doesn’t say anything. You think that the food is very good. It’s a shame that you can’t enjoy it because you feel uncomfortable. Why did you have to agree?

“Y/N,” Neytiri turns to you, “I’ve seen you hunt near the trees. Do you prefer it to the water?”

“It depends,” you feel like she is testing you but you don’t want to lie, “I feel most comfortable in the water. But sometimes it gets boring, so I look for the prey in the green. It’s more challenging.”

Neytiri nods, and you notice Jake’s and Neteyam’s approving smiles on you, which makes you feel like you passed the test. Whatever the test was.

“Mom is an excellent hunter,” Kiri adds, “You should join her sometime.”

“I will only be a distraction,” you try to disagree, as you hear Lo’ak chuckle next to you. Is he enjoying how much more uncomfortable his family can make you?

“Lo’ak,” Neytiri slaps the back of his head, “Have you tried hunting on an ikran, Y/N?”

“No, I’ve never even flown,” you give her a sheepish smile, as her eyes widen in surprise. You suppose it’s pretty common, since you grew up around the water.

“You’ve never flown!” Tuk exclaims, as if you are missing out.

“Then it’s decided,” Jake announces, exchanging a knowing look with Neytiri. Oh no.

“Next time I go flying, I will take you with me. You will enjoy it more than swimming,” she smiles.

You and Neytiri. Going to fly. You can’t even speak looking into her eyes, are you sure you will be able to fly with her in the air? At a height? While she hunts?

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you have nothing to be scared of,” Neteyam encourages you with a smile, “I’m sure you will love flying.”

Tuk nods in agreement, clapping her hands together. Neteyam finds his sister’s reaction amusing and lovingly pats her on the head. You enjoy this side of him a little too much, as you watch the interaction with a small smile.

“Like what you see?” Lo’ak whispers to you with a grin.

“What?” it’s hard for you to play cool when he just caught you.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak acts disinterested, biting down on the piece of fish, “Just warning that you’re being too obvious.”

“Just like you’re obvious with the chief’s daughter,” you whisper back, and watch as Lo’ak chokes on his food.

“Eat slower, Lo’ak,” Neytiri scolds him.

As the evening goes on, you feel slightly more at ease. Although the thought of you dying while flying with Neytiri nags at you, you try to push it to the back of your mind for the time being. You and Kiri eventually find a thread of your own conversation, and you occasionally catch Neteyam’s gracing you with his proud smiles.

When you’re finished with thanking them for having you over, Kiri stands up instinctively to walk you out. You’re both confused when Neteyam jumps to his feet, gently pushing his sister out of his way.

“It’s too late for you to be out, Kiri,” he says, his accent thick, “I will walk Y/N home.”

“Since when am I not to be out at this hour?” Kiri is baffled, as she turns to Jake with an expectant look, “Dad?”

“Since you started falling asleep underwater, Kiri,” Jake throws her a knowing look.

When you exit the marui with Neteyam close on your heels, you’re caught by surprise, feeling his arm snake around your shoulder. As you’re about to react, you almost stumble in the dark, and Neteyam helps you keep your balance.

“It’s a bit uneven here, especially in the dark, many stumble,” he explains, as he lets go of you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, looking at him, “Why did you have to invite me?”

“Did you have other plans?” Neteyam quirks at you. You shake your head.

“Still, after everything I said and did, I feel like you all must hate me.”

“You gave me a second chance, right?” Neteyam smiles, “Why wouldn’t I give one to you?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“And just so you know, no one hated you.”

“Not even you?” you tease.

“Especially not me,” Neteyam’s voice is serious. You shy away from his gaze.

As if being unseen in the darkness is equivalent to being unheard, the two of you walk slowly, quietly. You notice how the last bit of sun sets down behind the horizon, and watch in admiration.

“I love it here,” Neteyam admits, following your gaze, “I miss home, and the sky in the forest. But there’s something about the water…”

“What is it that you like about the water?” you ask him curiously.

“I don’t know, it just makes my heart race,” he whispers, looking back at you.

“I would love to see the forest. But I think I like it already,” you whisper back, meeting his golden eyes.

There’s a moment when you think something is going to happen. You’re both terrified and impatient for him to do anything. When did he become so different? Were you just blind before?

Neteyam’s eyes jump all over your face and your hair, like he’s trying to take it in. You hope that you’re not giving away how much you think you’re growing to like him at this moment.

“Your hair looks pretty like this,” he says, reaching for one of the locks draping over your shoulders.

Your heart skips a beat when he twirls a strand of your hair, watching it curl around his long fingers.

“Very pretty,” he smiles, looking back at you.

“Tsireya talked me into it,” you smile sheepishly, as you gently pull your hair back from his grasp.

He turns his head to the side, braids swaying with him. You have to force yourself not to reach your hand to tug them.

“Well, we’re here.” It takes you a second to realize that you’re in front of your marui.

“Right,” you gulp down, “Thanks again for inviting me, it was surprisingly delightful.”

“Wait till you fly with my mother,” Neteyam chuckles, noticing your terrified face.

“Oh, sweet Eywa,” you bite your lip.

“Don’t worry, she won’t let you get hurt,” Neteyam backs away, ready to leave, “I can be there to look after you.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

In a long time, since you had arrived, this is the first time you see Metkayina so overjoyed. From afar, you were all watching as their soul-sisters and soul-brothers, the Tulkuns, were returning home. The Sully’s were looking at the water mesmerized. Being foresters, they probably never even seen Tulkuns before.

You think back to your soul-sister whom you had seen many years ago. You were still a little girl back then but the memories you had with her kept your heart warm all this time. Sadness graces your face when you imagine her returning home and finding your village destroyed, with you nowhere to be found.

And although your soul-sister wasn’t among the Tulkuns, you still enjoy watching their interactions with the Metkayina clan. You swim in between them with a giddy smile, catching glimpses of silent conversations and excited exchanges, especially between the younger Na’vi. Not too far, Neteyam catches your eye. He is unlinked from his ilu, which swims around him with a delighted noise.

“Y/N, this is incredible!” he gestures.

“It is,” you agree, returning his smile.

You spend more time swimming and taking in the scenes unraveling in front of you. What’s even more entertaining is watching Neteyam and Kiri admiring the Tulkuns, and trying their best to understand what they’re saying. Of course, for foresters who had never seen Tulkuns, it was difficult to differentiate the subtle changes of tones and sounds they made. Lo’ak seems more comfortable, and you guess that it’s due to his bond with Payakan.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That evening, the Metkayina celebrate. While there were no new attacks from the sky people in the past week, you can’t help but feel uneasy, suspecting that something worse is going to happen soon. Like this short moment of happiness is just the calm before the storm begins.

The celebration of the return of Tulkuns is similar to the one you used to have back home. The clan gathers at the beach in big and small circles, around fire. They cook and share food and drinks together, while singing and dancing to the songs of Eywa. Many wear festive patterns on their faces and bodies. It didn’t take Tsireya long to convince both Kiri and you to get your faces and arms painted with beautiful shapes and colors.

As the evening goes on, Kiri tells you that back home their celebrations were almost the same. You sense that she’s truly enjoying it, feeling the familiarity. When she is pulled into a dance, you watch her with a big smile, clapping your hands. The rest of her family looks just as happy, especially Neytiri. Almost relaxed. You feel a little jealous that you had no one to share this moment with.

With everyone distracted, you slip away to the far end of the beach to be by yourself. Feeling the warmth of the sand, you enjoy the waves washing over your feet in a calming rhythm. You watch the horizon, and spot some movement from the Tulkuns performing their own celebratory dance, as they swim around each other. Occasionally, their tails resurface and disappear under the water with big splashes.

“Why aren’t you dancing with the rest?” you hear Neteyam’s voice, as he sits down next to you.

“Why aren’t you?”

“Let’s just say that dancing is not my strongest suit,” Neteyam smiles.

“Is the mighty warrior finally admitting to being bad at something?” you tease him, “Lo’ak would be delighted when I tell him.”

“Lo’ak is a worse dancer than I am,” Neteyam laughs, pointing at his younger brother in the distance.

You look over to find Lo’ak awkwardly circling around Tsireya. It seems like he is going to fall into the fire any second now. They’re holding hands, as she tries to guide him to move his feet like her but Lo’ak seems so out of place, it makes you laugh too. It’s kind of cute, you think. He tries for Tsireya because there is no way he would ever do this in front of so many Na’vi.

“He’s a lost cause,” you shake your head at the sight.

“Anything for love,” Neteyam turns his gaze back to you with a small smile.

You almost get a deja vu of how similar this moment is to the one you shared among the trees. There is something unspoken between Neteyam and you. He holds your gaze, slowly moving closer. You gulp down nervously, when he raises his hand to your cheek. Neteyam pauses for your approval before making contact. His fingers trace a pattern of paint on your face, before he cups your cheek.

“Neteyam,” you whisper, “If anyone sees…”

If anyone sees, you will definitely gain at least several suspicious questions tomorrow morning. You can only imagine how this looks from afar, and you wonder if he wants it to look that way. Is it bad that you hope he does?

“I don’t care,” Neteyam whispers back, his face now closer to yours, “Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

You feel too nervous to talk. Instinctively you raise your fingers, wrapping them around his wrist, then nod your head. Neteyam takes a deep breath.

“Are you promised to someone?” his eyes jump all over your face, trying to read your thoughts.

“No,” your voice hitches, as you hold his gaze, “Are you?”

Neteyam softly shakes his head, one of his braids falling on his face. You find that makes him look more handsome.

“Y/N,” his voice is hypnotic, pulling you closer to him, “I know we didn’t see eye to eye when we met but now I think it’s because both of us felt something. Y/N, I -”

“Neteyam,” you interrupt him with a firm tone, “Don’t say anything.”

You avoid his gaze, lowering his hand from your face. You still keep your fingers around his wrist but you don’t dare to look at him.

“Why?” Neteyam sounds so confused, you feel an ache in your stomach, “Am I wrong? Don’t you feel it too?”

“Neteyam, this is not the time,” you sigh, avoiding his question, “I can’t. Please.”

He pulls his hand from yours, instantly putting a small distance between you. You feel like you’re going to scream. He doesn’t deserve this.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers, shaking his head.

“I can’t promise you anything, Neteyam. I don’t even know if my sister is alive. What if I go back home? What if the demons attack us tomorrow, and I die?” you start rushing through the hundreds of reasons, “I can’t risk this. Having a friend like you is more than I deserve already, ‘Teyam. I don’t want you to get stuck with me. I am not reliable like you. I will mess it up.”

“Y/N -” he looks so confused, trying to follow the line of your words, “I disagree -”

Your intimate moment is disrupted with loud noises of Roxto and Ao’nung running past you into the water. The rest of the group, with Lo’ak and Tsireya, are close on their heels with accompanying shouts. You guess they’re headed to swim with the Tulkuns before Tonowari declares an end to the celebration.

“Neteyam, come join us!” Lo’ak shouts, interrupting his brother.

“Please, let’s just pretend that everything’s back to normal. Whatever ‘normal’ means anyway,” you sigh, standing up. Neteyam’s pained eyes follow your movement, as you leave him there, sitting alone.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

part 2

tumblr won't let me post the rest of the fic in the same post, so go to part 2. if you have any thoughts or comments and you haven't finished reading yet, i would still appreciate you sharing them with me. i'm so impatient for feedback, although i know it will take a lot of time to read this whole thing, anyways

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taglist (also tagging some blogs that i think might enjoy it, and some of the authors, whose works i’ve been reading non-stop to keep myself motivated): @fucksnow ; @heaven1oo4 ; @fanboyluvr ; @ngayawneluoer ; @aquila-de-l-ocean ; @aoteyam ; @moonpetrichors-blog ; @vinnieswife ; @eywascall ; @lxvvvllyy ; @iloveavatar ; @neteyamdarling ; @gloryy-vs ; @girasollake ; @mayhemories ; @suuuupernovaaa ; @love-chx ; @the-demon-soul ; @cosmictheo ; @victoirey ; @your-averagewriter ; @starkeysmoon ; @openpandorabox ; @urlocalfeiner ; @neteyams-tsahik ; @angelltheninth ; @sweetsbfreex ; @forever--darling ; @arachine ; @nyctophicbtch ; @jeojake ; @isabellapaul37 ; @melbee ; @loaksky ; @luvsellie ; @loakism ; @lizziesfirstwife ; @jakesullysbabygirl ; @theseuscmander ; @love13tter

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