#i’ve noticed i’m much quicker to defend myself now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Love Pages

➜ Words: 18k

➜ Genres: 60% Angst, 40% Fluff, Yandere!AU, Inspired by Death Note

➜ Summary: You've always had feelings for Park Jimin, star soccer player and cute boy-next-door. But it's been unrequited for years and you expect it to continue that way. Or at least until a certain notebook falls into your hands.

➜ Warning: toxic relationships, loosely implied smut, some victim blaming. This is not your typical love story.

The more he ran, the deeper you fell. You couldn’t help it. Not when the breeze was whisking through his dark strands, sweat was rolling down his face and his brows were furrowed in concentration. To some, it looked like Jimin was just playing soccer — a mischievous boy kicking a ball in the grassy field. But to you, it was much more than that. He was magic. Leaping through the air. Irises glistening each time the coach hollers and he smiles. The corner of his mouth tugged as his team members jump on his back. Jimin is the one who manifests the butterflies in your stomach. And that’s magical enough for you. “You’re drooling.” Jihyo is startling when she throws her arm over your shoulders and pulls you away, shattering your trance. She giggles as you scoff, finally tearing your eyes from the boy across the field. “No, I’m not.” In spite of your denial, you check if you are indeed drooling and your hand wipes at the corner of your mouth. “You have it so bad for him, Y/N,” your best friend laughs loudly as you shush her. “Relax. No one’s gonna hear. The whole neighbourhood’s gonna find out anyway if you keep staring at him like that.” “I am not staring.” “Uh-huh.” It’s clear she doesn’t believe you. “Are you actually going to talk to him or keep looking and making it obvious.” “What would I even talk to him about, Jihyo?” “I don’t know. You’ve been crushing on him since what? Eighth grade? Shouldn’t you know what he likes by now? What do nerds like?” “Jimin is not a nerd,” you defend futility and end up sighing a moment later. Jihyo has a point. But whenever it comes time to strike a conversation, your brain empties and all you can think about is how he’s actually paying attention to you. The problem isn’t that you don’t know what to say, you just don’t know how to say it. “I always end up getting too nervous and make myself look stupid.” “Need my help?” “No.” You glare as she grins. You know Jihyo’s definition of help is screaming his name for the entire school to hear. The whole soccer team would turn their heads as she’d wave and point to you. She did that once and you were beyond mortified. Thankfully, Jimin was considerate enough to smile and wave back. The two of you begin turning and walking away before you’re late for library duty. “I’m just saying, there’s only four months left before we’re graduating for good. What’s there left to lose?” “My dignity.” “I thought you didn’t have any.” You throw a weak punch, but Jihyo dodges out of the way and laughs. You know your best friend is merely trying to help. It’s not like you like being this hopeless anyway. But you’re aware that even if Jimin spares a moment for you sometimes, you’re nowhere near his league. As you pass by the bleachers, your peripheral vision catches Jimin looking your way. Immediately, you turn your head — heart stuttering. But then you realize he’s looking at Seulgi. The girl is standing at the front bleachers, sweater tucked into her skirt, cheering him on and waving. And he waves back with an even bigger grin. Jihyo doesn’t miss the interaction. You feel her hand on your arm, guiding you away quicker. “I heard Jimin and Seulgi have been getting close.” “Really? I haven’t.” Jihyo’s lying. The rumours are running rampant that he’s interested in her. You were hoping it wasn’t true, but of course he would. She’s popular and cute, and even dances. You can’t do any of those things. You can’t be those things— “Y/N?” “Sorry?” You blink hard, attention taken by the youthful librarian behind the desk smiling gently. “Are you alright, dear? Do you need to go home early?” “No.” You shake your head, feeling the weight of Jihyo’s gaze as well. “I was just thinking about something else. I’m sorry.” “It’s quite alright. I was saying how all the books have thankfully been shelved and all the things I needed to be cataloged into the computer system is done. Of course, it’s thanks to you two ladies helping me out recently.” The pair of you respond that it’s not a problem and she smiles before guiding you towards the back and flicking on the lights of the dusty room. “I was thinking we could tackle cleaning out the storage area today before we close up for the end of the year. It hasn’t been touched since the previous librarian.” She sighs. “I’ve been meaning to get it done but we’ve just been so busy.” Bookshelves on all sides and a table in the center, there are books without covers and ripped pages coating the surfaces. But it’s still not as terrible as that time you had to reorganize the entire science fiction section. That task alone took two weeks. Jihyo seems to agree. “It’s actually not that bad.” “We can probably finish it in a day or two,” you add. “You girls are more helpful than you’ll ever know.” The older lady breathes a big sigh of relief. “I was thinking we could inspect all of these and sort them into books that can still be used, donated or thrown out. I’ll run and grab you boxes so you can organize them. Oh and if there’s anything you’d like to take home, feel free to! Take it as a perk of volunteering to help out.” She smiles and you and Jihyo nod before getting to work. “Look at what I found.” Your best friend holds up a bright coloured book five minutes into it and you burst out laughing. The novel reads ‘You’ve Got A Dog in Me’ and aside from the ridiculous title, it’s completely tattered with a brown stain in the middle. “It looks like it’s some romance comedy. Whatever.” She chucks it in the garbage can and you notice an old guide on how to spank children from the fifties. It raises your brows and you throw it in the trash too. There’s a ton of books to go through, but you have fun looking at some of the ridiculous titles or synopsis with Jihyo. Some of them are able to be donated while others are in a good enough condition to be kept after the layers of dust are blown off. It’s clear that no one’s touched this storage area for years. The room is crowded, so with Jihyo at the front, you venture to the very back bookcase. You dodge stacks and bins, and squat down to the last shelf. Almost instantly, your attention is taken by shiny green spines that seemingly shimmer even in the dim lights. The books are large and heavy duty, requiring two hands to be pulled out with how tightly they’re stuffed into the shelf. But you manage. The first book reads ‘The Magical World Explored’. The second is ‘Dark Magic: Beginner Spellbook’ and the third, ‘17th Century Witchcraft History’. Latin and other symbols surround the titles and two of them are with small locks, the other without. Yet you can’t seem to open it no matter how hard you pull. What’s even stranger is that the textbooks are immaculate. It looks like they’ve been untouched. “What is it?” Jihyo asks at your ongoing silence and approaches with the same curiosity that twists to befuddlement you have. “Looks like something edgy you’d pick up on ebay for that witch aesthetic.” You burst out laughing. “I can’t even open this one. It’s like the pages are...glued together.” “Maybe they’re cursed,” she says jokingly and your next laugh is a bit more uncomfortable than the last. At the same time, the librarian pokes her head through the door, asking how everything’s going. You take the opportunity to ask her about the odd books. “Hmm, this is strange,” she muses, tapping her chin. “It looks like it’s from the previous librarian who worked at this school. I only met her a few times but she told me she was from a small village out in the middle of nowhere, so that’s where these probably came from. Anyway, she already passed away so I can’t give them back. If anything, just trash them.” “Okay.” You set them into the garbage can before continuing without thinking twice until there’s an interruption. “Excuse me?” There’s a familiar gawky boy with rounded glasses at the front desk. With the librarian busy on the other side of the library, you grab your best friend and quirk your head towards him. “Jihyo! Jihyo! It’s Namjoon!” “What?!” “Go help him!” Her face flushes pink. “No! Why don’t you?!” “Because!” You grin. “Didn’t you say that we have nothing to lose since we’re graduating?” “Don’t you know I’m all talk and no action?” Her last syllable is a squeal when you nudge her forward and out the side door where she stumbles into his line of sight. Jihyo throws a glare over her shoulder before she clears her throat. “Is there something you need? Or are you here to bother me again?” Namjoon smiles. “Both.” You watch the cute interaction for a moment before leaving to give them some privacy. Humming to yourself, you resume inspecting and sorting the books, turning to the back shelf again. And as you clear it out, you grab a stack of novels at the top shelf. Inadvertently, something topples on top of your head. Luckily, it’s thin. Not painful whatsoever. Merely flopping to the carpet— A pastel pink notebook and in small text at the front, simple words read ‘Love Pages’. It draws you in. Bewitched. Unblinking. Unbreathing. A mysterious magnetism has you spellbound, curiosity coming within waves. So you reach down to grab it, fingertips grasping the very edges of the few pages. You flip it over to the back and your eyes skim the white text on the blushing cover:

The human whose name is written first shall fall in love with the human whose name is written second.

The Pages can only take effect if the writer has the person’s face in mind.

The only way the Pages’ powers can be removed is through erasing the names.

A name cannot be written first more than once at a time.

Warning: The more naturally compatible a couple is, the more effective the Pages shall be. The less compatible a couple is, the more likely undesired consequences shall arise. Utilize with caution. You’re confused. You wonder what kind of prank this is. Whoever did it had a really detailed and elaborate yet creative plan to fool someone. But you wonder if they accidentally left this notebook here. You’re not sure if the notebook should go straight into the garbage, so you toss it on the table and continue cleaning. It’s not long before you come across a crime novel you’re actually interested in and place it aside to remember to take home. And it’s not long before Jihyo’s coming back in with her backpack. “Hey, our shift’s over. She said we can finish tomorrow. Wanna go grab fries on the way home?” “Sure.” You grin. “How’d your talk with Namjoon go?” Jihyo smiles, the usual assertive girl grown shy under the topic. “How do you think it went?” You grab the novel and shove it into your bag haphazardly without looking. You don’t realize a certain soft pink notebook underneath that you’ve taken as well. // It’s evening by the time you get home. Tired and grimy from the long day, you beeline straight up the stairs to your room as your mother’s voice chirps from the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet?!” “I already ate with Jihyo!” you call back before shutting your bedroom door. You swing your backpack off your shoulders as you collapse into your chair. Your desk is cluttered with loose leaves of your bored scribbles, college pamphlets and school forms you never read. The attempt to make your room pretty and aesthetic failed years ago with your messy tendencies, but what catches your eye as you look around is the candle of Bundled Roses Jihyo gave you for your birthday. Golden lid and shell pink container, you reach out and uncap it to dig the wax into your nose. Even after burning half of the candle already, it still smells good. You smile to yourself, placing the candle back in its spot next to the lighter. The desk lamp is switched on and you reach for your backpack to dump out your homework. In a few months, you’ll be freed from ever having to sit down and be forced to do quadratic equations again. Graduation was definitely something to look forward to. But as you spill the contents of your bag out, the crime novel and a certain pink notebook comes tumbling out. “Shit.” The Love Pages stares back at you. It’s tiny print letters on the cover are simple yet annoying. You didn’t mean to take it with you, but that mistake’s gonna cost you a walk all the way to the library tomorrow. Or you could simply dump it in the trash bin now. Dust your hands off. Call it a day. But for some reason, you don’t. You don’t turn to stuff it back into your bag. You don’t shift to drop it in the trash. Perhaps it’s on a whim, riding the wave of procrastination, preferring to delay homework for just another moment— You flip it open. Min Yoongi Kim Seokjin Amane Miki Jeon Jungkook Kim Taehyung Ellie Windsor It’s funny. In a strange sort of way. There’s an endless list of names spanning across the pages, each line consisting of exactly two but the writing is starkly different. For some of them, it’s clear that they were written by the same person. Straight lines, small letters, the occasional loops. Yet for others, it’s chicken scratch writing or scribbles, hearts drawn on the side, thin lead to thicker ones. It looks like the notebook’s been passed to lots of people in spite of its immaculate exterior. As you flip, you find faded names barely legible as if they’ve been erased. More importantly, there’s more than ten pages that have yet to be written in. For how silly and complex this prank is, maybe it’s a good luck charm. Maybe these couples actually got together and this notebook somehow fell into your lap as a sign of fate. Maybe. It’s ridiculous. But would it hurt to try? It’s not like anyone would know. Plus, you’ve doodled your name as ‘Park Y/N’ more times than you could count. Secretly, of course. Compelled and childish, you reach for the pencil on your desk. You flip to the next clean new page and recall the rules of the Pages. And you call to mind kind smiles, half moon eyes and a sweet voice. Your pencil loops his name onto the paper. Park Jimin L/N Y/N It’s done. Your breath hitches. You blink once. Then twice. But — nothing happens. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it’s not like Jimin’s going to fall in love with you simply because you wrote his name down in some stupid book. That’s not how love works. You shut the Love Pages and shove it away before cracking open your algebra textbook with a tired groan. // It’s early morning when you’re trudging along the path to school, rubbing your swollen eyes that you’re sure Jihyo will make fun of you for. But it’s not your fault that you ended up scrolling through your phone instead of tackling the chem assignment and forgetting that it was due today until you were laying in be— “Y/N?” It’s an unfamiliar-familiar voice. Unfamiliar in the ways that you’re still not used to it. That you haven’t heard it directed to you enough times. But familiar in the ways that you’ve always listened to it. That your ears always perked when you passed by him in the halls, trying to pick up on the sweet syllables that rolled off his tongue. You’ve always hung off every sentence that he had to say. Holy fuck. Park Jimin is looking at you. “Y/N?” And he’s smiling, tilting his head, eyes tender. He’s so close and if your mind could actually function, you would realize that he’s just standing there by the school entrance as if he was waiting for you. “Are you alright?” “Y-Yeah.” The word chokes out of you and you try to shake off your nervousness. You muster a smile as your heart begins to pound into your ears. “S-Sorry.” “Good morning,” Jimin tweedles with a growing grin. “Morning.” You start walking alongside him. “How’re you?” “Good. You?” “I’m good too.” Jimin’s eyes are crinkled and he steals a glance at you at the same time you do. It’s a moment that has your heart stuttering in your chest. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked.” You’re caught off guard, unable to believe this is happening. But his presence is more than welcome. In fact, Jimin doesn’t know that he’s already making your day. “Y-Yeah, it has been. How’s….soccer practice been?” “Really great actually. We have one more game left. We’re versing West Side this time.” “It’s the final match of the season?” “Yup! We’re all pretty excited. Everyone wants to win but even if we don’t, then we come in second place in the entire school district.” Your steps slow as you get to the front doors, still wanting to savour each second and luckily, he slows as well. Neither of you are eager to move on. “That’s incredible, Jimin.” “Y/N!” Right as the conversation is simmering down, Jihyo disrupts any awkwardness that might settle. She appears out of nowhere and swings her arm over your shoulder. Your best friend gives you a knowing look and then to Jimin. “Hey there, Park.” “Hey.” He smiles politely, then redirects his gaze to you. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” “Y-Yeah. Totally. See you.” You wave, still struck and baffled by the interaction. Jihyo seems equally surprised as well. And once Jimin’s gone from sight, she nudges you roughly with a sly smile. “What was that all about? Did you finally grow some balls?” “No. He was the one who approached me,” you murmur, not sure what to say. You wonder if this is the Love Pages’ doing, but that’s impossible. It was merely a prank notebook made by someone bored. // It’s hard to focus in class with what happened in the morning. You keep replaying the scene in your head. His soft voice. The look in his eye. How he was standing around and his smile lit when he saw you. It’s a record, a movie, that’s played again and again in your mind. Soaking every second you couldn’t take in at the time. To some it might simply be mundane small talk, but to you, who’s always looked at him from afar, the butterflies are still tickling your tummy. The world has never been so rosy. It’s after class that your head is still in the clouds and you’re trying to repress your giddy smile to yourself. You’re holding your textbooks to your chest as you pass by the field, making your way home alone with Jihyo at her after-school anime club. She had a small interest in it but it only grew after befriending Namjoon there. As much as she likes to make fun of Jimin for being a nerd, Namjoon’s the real geeky one. But that only makes your best friend and him all the more endearing. You hope they get together soon. In the midst of your thoughts, you don’t notice the soccer practice going on. Not until there’s fast sprinting steps crescendoing to your left. “Y/N!” There’s an out of breath shout of your name and you halt with your eyes wide. Jimin’s panting as his team members disperse from the field. He grins. “I thought I saw you!” You’re stunned and watch as he wipes the sweat dripping on his forehead with his blue jersey. You blink hard, mouth full of cotton. Before today, Jimin never approached you when you were by yourself — most certainly never twice in a day. You’ve never had this much attention from him before. “I was worried you weren’t going to drop by like you usually do!” “Like...I usually do?” “Yeah.” He steadies his breath with a cheeky smile. “I’ve always noticed that you came to practice. Honestly, you’re kind of like my good luck charm. It feels weird if you’re not there.” Your brain goes blank. You process a single word at a time. And you manage one nod. “Hey…” Jimin scratches the back of his neck, cheeks blooming with a subtle hue. “Do you want to wait till practice is over? I want to walk you home. If you’d like.” “S-Sure…” “Park!” his coach shouts and Jimin whirls around with a grin. “Break’s over!” “Yeah, I’m coming!” Park Jimin’s smiling to himself as he runs back onto the field — leaping in the air, wind whisking through his dark strands. In the meanwhile, you’re left rooted to the ground, staring at his backside. Your face is on fire and the butterflies erupt all the way to your throat. It’s magic. “—hot dogs down at East road….” “You comin’, Park?” Kyungsoo looks at his team member, noticing the quietness of the soccer star. Jimin smiles before pulling the clean shirt through his head. “Nah. I have plans.” “With who?” another interjects. “Seulgi?” “No, someone else.” Instantly, obnoxious ‘ooh’s fill the locker room and he rolls his eyes with a growing grin before throwing his duffle bag over his shoulder and shutting his locker. Jimin exits and finds you waiting meters away. Jimin runs to you. “Sorry for you leaving you waiting!” “It’s okay.” The walk home is a bit awkward. You’ve never had anyone accompany you other than Jihyo before — most certainly not a boy, and not the person you’ve been crushing on for practically four years now. You clear your throat and steal a glance. “Is there a reason you wanted to walk me home?” “Why?” Jimin is immediately alarmed. “Did you not want me to?” “No!” Your eyes look into his, equally as rounded. “That’s not it. I’m...just not used to it, that’s all.” “Honestly.” Your steps are synced together and colour blooms on his cheeks. “I wanted an excuse to talk to you more and get to know you better.” “Oh.” “I guess you can say I realized the other day that we went to the same elementary, but I don’t even know you that well. You can tell me if you don’t want to—” “I want to,” you blurt before you can realize what’s coming out of your mouth. Jimin’s eyes are as big as saucers and he nods. At the same time, you frantically turn away out of embarrassment, not noticing the way Jimin was smiling to himself. The comfortable silence simmers between the pair of you as the sun sets over the horizon, painting the sky in a pastel tangerine hue. You can hear children on the playground nearby, see the other sidewalk occupied by a couple pulling along a stroller and the grandma in her front yard pinning up her laundry to dry. And as you savour the moment, the back of your hand accidentally brushes against Jimin’s. It’s soft and you flinch subtly before glancing down. Jimin must feel it too because he follows your line of sight and clears his throat. “Hey.” His timbre is husky and nervous. “Is it...okay if I hold your hand?” You answer with a bob of your head. And Jimin timidly reaches out, fingertips first, and then his palms clutch yours. Your hands are slotted together perfectly and you muse how soft his skin is. Heat rises to your face. Heart stuttering in your chest. Butterflies a whirlwind in your stomach. But unfortunately, the moment is all too short. “This is it.” You stop in front of your house and Jimin lets go of you. He looks at your home and smiles. “It’s cute.” “Thanks.” You pull open the gate, eyes diverted elsewhere lest he can see how flustered you are. “Well, I’ll see you later, Jimin. Thanks for walking me home…” “Wait!” he shouts when you’ve taken three steps and you spin around to see him scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, um, Y/N. Would….would you like to...like to go out sometime to catch a movie or get some food this weekend. I mean you don’t have to, no pressure.” Your mouth is twitching as you try your best not to scream on spot. “I’d like that, Jimin.” “Okay.” A cheeky grin spreads gradually into his cheeks, eyes crinkled into crescent moons. “I should probably get your number then…?” “Sure.” The exchange is quick and then you’re running into your house, stomping all the way up the stairs, ignoring your mom’s shout. You launch yourself into bed face first, mattress bouncing at the impact. While your limbs are sprawled out, you scream into your pillow with your furnace hot face. You roll around in your covers, kicking your blankets. Jimin just asked you out on a date. He asked you out on a date and he walked you home. Park Jimin walked you home and talked to you this morning. You’re certain your heart’s about to give out with how fast it’s beating, that the butterflies bursting in your tummy’s about to explode up your throat and out of your mouth. You can’t believe it. You rise up in your bed with your hair in a disarray and your bed ruined, and you look over to your desk where the pastel pink notebook is. You wonder if this is the Love Pages’ doing. // “You’re going on a date?!” Your best friend is taken off guard, but when you vehemently nod, her confusion is overcome with excitement. Jihyo engulfs you in a hug. “This is so fucking exciting! I’m so excited for you! Oh my god!” She squeals and you laugh, jumping together. “Do you know what you’re going to wear yet?” “I have no idea.” “I’ll help you.” She grins. “It’s going to be fine, you’re going to sweep him off his feet.” “Easy for you to say,” you counter, “Your crush already likes you back.” “Namjoon’s just a friend,” Jihyo sighs and then her peripheral vision catches the tall brunette passing by as if calling his name was enough to summon him. “Shush! He’s coming!” Except you look him straight in the eye and smile. “Hey, Namjoon.” “Hey.” Namjoon snorts as if he overheard the conversation, a smile placed on his features as his eyes linger on Jihyo before he passes by. She remains nonchalant as if he’s invisible. Or at least until the moment he’s gone and she steps on your foot. “You were being way too obvious!” You pout at Jihyo, grabbing her arm. “No, I wasn’t.” “Go be cute to Jimin instead,” she scoffs while you giggle, hoping he’ll find you half as endearing as you know your best friend does. // The weekend comes slower than you wish it would, but arrives nonetheless. You’re waiting at the station — intercom noisy overhead, the sound of the train breaking echoing from afar. It’s the bustle of the afternoon, of overtime office workers and other couples shuffling amongst themselves with parents following their children. You tug on the hem of your dress that Jihyo insisted you wear. You’re not sure if it’s too much or if you caked on too much makeup, but there’s no time to overthink. “Y/N!” Jimin meets you, dressed in casual attire of jeans and a white tee underneath a black hoodie. “I’m sorry I’m late!” “You weren’t late, Jimin. I just came early.” “But how long were you waiting for?” “Not that long,” you assure and he glances at you before smiling. “You look really nice. Like really nice.” “T-Thanks,” the word stutters out of you and you look around, feeling conscious under his sole attention. “Where are we heading first?” “I was thinking of catching a movie, if you’d like.” “Sure.” The both of you start moving towards the exit. At the same time, the intercom announces the arrival of the Northbound train. It pulls up on the other side and the doors whir open a beat later, flooding the platform with passengers exiting and pushing to enter. In the chaos, your shoulder is roughly shoved and you’re pushed aside by the rushing mass. You wince and open your eyes to discover you’re losing sight of the boy with dark strands. But the second hopelessness begins to settle— “Are you okay?” Jimin’s hand has clasped yours and he’s pulled you out from the crowd. You stumble in a place where you can breathe again. Jimin smiles sweetly and you’re not sure if he’s an angel or not. “I thought I lost you,” you admit in an exhale. “Don’t worry, I would never let you out of my sight.” His grip is firm and secure. Jimin squeezes tenderly and leads you out the exit again — this time with you in hand. You feel your palm getting warm. “Sorry, my hand’s a bit sweaty.” “I don’t mind.” Your heart catches in your throat. You hope this lasts forever. The pair of you end up catching a romance movie in a cute, local theater called When Spring Meets Autumn. But towards the end, you’re not sure what it’s about. Not when all you can think about is the fact that Jimin’s beside you, how he’s leaning your way, your elbows are brushing. The way his arm ends up draping over the back of your seat. All you can do is steal glances at him. Your eye eventually catches his and your attempt of pretending you weren’t staring is futile. You feel Jimin lean even closer, noticing a soft smile playing on his lips. “Is there something wrong?” he whispers. You shake your head. It’s the opposite. This is a dream come true. “I’m usually more into action than romance,” he says as the both of you walk alongside one another over the bridge. “I can’t believe that actress died ten minutes into the movie though.” “Oh yeah.” You laugh awkwardly, not able to recall. Your eyes travel towards the cityscape and then the lake that you were crossing. Your ears perk at the giggles of couples in pedal boats, blue boats they’re using to cross the waters together. Envy stems in your mind. They sure were taking advantage of the warm weather. Jimin notices your fixation. “Have you ever been?” You shake your head. “I’ve always wanted to go in it with my family, but I never got the chance.” “We could do it now.” Your eyes meet his. “Right now?” “Why not?” He grins boyishly, already taking your hand again. It’s ten dollars for ten minutes and you split the cost in half, in spite of how much he insists on paying for the ride. The boat wobbles as you get in, but Jimin holds your hand and guides you, laughing while the instructor asks if you want a life jacket for the second time and shows the rules nailed onto the wooden board. The two of you get settled in and start pedaling with your feet. But you don’t get anywhere and bump into the dock instead. “The left person paddles!” The instructor yells and Jimin’s wide-eyed before he nods and follows. “This is actually my first time too,” he admits shyly as you finally get into the lake. “I wanted to look cool.” Laughter unabashedly bubbles out of your throat. “It’s okay, Jimin. You’re very cool to me.” “Now you’re just trying to make me feel better.” “No!” You retort in the midst of giggles. “I’m being honest!” You both paddle to the middle of the lake and it’s a lot more work than you expected. You’re sure you don’t look flattering in your dress pedaling a boat but there’s no time to dwell when you’re having this much fun. At least not until you feel your toes getting wet. “Oh my god!” You flinch. “There’s a hole in the boat!” Water leaks up to your ankles and it’s only getting faster. “Paddle to shore!” Jimin shouts in the midst of laughing. You giggle and as if to make matters worse, the rolling clouds over the horizon begin pouring rain. It spits and then starts showering on top of your heads. You’re becoming soaked from both ways, but rather than being upset, you’re laughing and giggling hysterically with one another. Jimin helps you up onto the harbour and holds your hand as you run away to get some cover. You find some under a closed store canopy on a nearby quiet street. The pair of you face the road, unable to see far with the thick, heavy rain morphing the city to monochrome. Warm giggles fill the spaces beside you. “I’m going to be honest, I imagined the first date with you would be a lot better than this.” You meet Jimin’s eye and take the chance to tease him. “You imagined it?” But he doesn’t make a snarky comeback. Jimin is genuine as he is shy. “Yeah. I have. I like you a lot, Y/N. I think...I have for a long time. I just didn’t realize it.” It’s silent — the peaceful kind of quiet that lingers. As cold as the rain is, your face warms. But you wonder if this is how Jimin really feels or if it’s the Love Pages’ doing. Your trance is shattered by an embarrassed laugh. “You shouldn’t leave a guy waiting after they confessed, you know.” Jimin tilts his head, eyes tender and smile kind. “It makes it feel like you’re about to reject me.” Reject him?! “I’ve liked you since eighth grade,” you blurt loudly, the honesties pouring out of your mouth. They’re words you never thought you would have the chance to say. A confession you’ve always held in your throat. Secrets you held so close to you and were too cowardice to speak. But the compassionate Jimin you’re facing makes you brave. He grins, a growing smile that spreads into his cheeks and makes his eyes gleam. “Really?” “I have ever since you helped me in that group project.” “I did?” His brows furrow. “I can’t really recall.” It’s disheartening to hear considering that the memory is significant to you, but you elaborate as if you could jog his mind. “Science class with Mr. Chen. No one was listening and I was really stressed, but you helped me.” The recognition never seems to set in his eyes, but instead, they flicker down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” You nod furiously and Jimin smiles before he leans in with heavy lidded eyes. His fingers lift to hold your chin and your eyes flutter shut. Soft lips meet yours. It’s a sweet kiss, a brief and chaste one. Your very first. And your heart feels like it’s about to burst. You can practically hear Jimin’s thundering heartbeat underneath the thumping rain. // The giddiness lasts an hour later. You can’t resist the enormous grin on your face even when you slap your own cheeks and tell yourself to calm down. It’s still cloudy outside when you get home, the rain subsided into scattering droplets, yet you feel warm inside. “I’m hom—” The announcement is cut short when you stumble on a pair of shoes. You catch yourself and look down to find odd brown loafers that don’t belong to your mom, dad or you. There’s only one other person. “Hobi?!” As if the day couldn’t get any better. You sprint into the living room to find your older brother sitting on the couch and he turns around with a small smile. “If it isn’t my baby sister.” “What are you doing here?” It’s not like him to visit unannounced, but as you step forward into the evening light, you discover his reddened eyes and the swollen area underneath is as if he’s been crying. Colour instantly drains from your face and your expression falls. “Is...there something wrong?” Your pupils stray to the suitcase beside him. Hoseok musters another smile. “Surprise. I’m moving back.” “W-Where’s Irene?” “She’s not coming.” His voice is hoarse. “It’s…..over. We’re getting a divorce.” What? // Life — he told you is what happened. Careers got busy. Staying together turned out to be more of a chore than expected. And it seemed like there were more arguments than there were proper conversations. Hoseok followed it up with a hard swallow and nonchalantly told you that sometimes things just don’t work out. But by the look on his face, you know he was holding back tears. You’ve never seen your brother cry before. “What do you mean?!” “What happened? Did she kick you out? For how long?! Where are you planning to go now?!” Your parents are in hysterics, exasperated and stunned by the situation. Your dad is tense in the armchair while your mother is pacing the floor. You watch the three of them through the gap of your bedroom door, not sure if you should intrude or what you would even say. “This doesn’t make any sense! The two of you were fine last week!” “We weren’t, mom,” Hoseok assures in a weak voice with his downcast head. “Have you spoken to her yet?! Did the pair of you sit down and talk properly?” Your older brother releases a staggering exhale from his lungs. “We have,” his voice cracks, “enough times. And...it’s...it’s over between us.” This isn’t right. This shouldn’t be happening. Your mother cries, “Hoseok, are you giving up?! You can’t just give up! This is your marriage that we’re talking about. This is serious!” “This isn’t just up for me to decide!” Hoseok retorts in a shout, finally lifting his face. “I can’t do anything about it when she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore!” You shut the door quietly, pressing your back against the surface. You’re as shocked as your parents are — maybe even more so. You were the one who saw it first hand. You’re the one who tagged along when they went to play, when Irene knocked on the door every morning to go to school together, you’re the one who sat in the backseat as they took a road trip down to the beach six summers ago. The two of them grew up together in this neighbourhood. They’re soulmates. And you know that best. Your dad’s voice is muffled through the walls. “—happened exactly?” “—doesn’t love me anymore……..wanted a break weeks ago.” Hoseok’s eagerness, Irene’s calmness. Their sense of humour, their ambitions in life — it all aligns like puzzle pieces meant to fit. And you’re not the only one who thinks so. Everyone who has eyes and ears would’ve thought that their relationship would be inevitable. They’re soulmates — better together than apart — and you could bet your entire existence on that fact. You march across the stretch of your room and sit yourself down in the chair. Swiftly and silently, you pull open the last drawer of your desk and grab the pastel pink notebook. Pushing your chemistry textbook, candle and lighter aside, you flip open the pages. Kang Irene L/N Hoseok L/N Hoseok Kang Irene The names are written without needing to blink twice, straight lines and big print. Twice to make sure that both sides are the same, that affections will be reciprocated. But you know it’s childish. You can only hope it works. // Dinner is stiff. Little bites are taken, each person nibbling on the food. No words are exchanged across the table when the tension is so thick. Neither your mom or your dad speaks another word about the issue with the way Hoseok’s brooding. There’s no point in making futile commentary, in adding gasoline to the fire after all, so you don’t press on the matter either. But ten minutes into dinner, the silence is interrupted by the doorbell. It echoes throughout the home and heads lift, eyes looking at one another. Hoseok is the first who moves. As if he has a sixth sense or a foolish wish of who it could be. Who he hopes it is. And as you and your parents follow after him while he opens the door, that wish is granted. Irene stands at the doorstep in a cream coat and leggings, bag thrown over her shoulder. She’s out of breath as if she rushed over, yet the pair of them don’t speak. They gaze at one another quietly. Hoseok grips the doorknob, eyes pinned on his wife as she looks back into his brown irises warmed by the dim light of the foyer. Their eyes are tender, expressions pained. “C-Can I come in?” she asks in an exhale. Hoseok nods fervently. As much as your parents would like to listen in to the conversation, they both give Hoseok and Irene a private moment. One you observe through the crack of your door. There’s an exchange of sighs and muffled apologies. And when your brother finally asks what she’s doing here, Irene responds in a beat. “I still love you.” “W-What? But just a few hours ago...you….you said….we were done. This is so sudden.” “I know.” With her downcast head, tears trickle down her cheeks. “I know that. But I regretted it the second you were gone, Hoseok. I’m sorry. I...I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everythin—” Hoseok pulls her in close, cradling her face against his shoulder as he embraces her. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you too.” The corner of your mouth tugs and you look away when they kiss. They’re surmounting the bittersweet moment together, leaving behind the point where they were so close to abandoning their relationship. Your parents emerge with you lingering behind and you’re relieved as they are. “I’m sorry.” Irene dips her head. Your father glances at your mother and then smiles. “Don’t worry about it, dear. Couples fight all the time. It’s only natural when you’re living together.” “Does this mean you’re not staying over?” You intrude, quirking your head at your brother who smirks. “I thought we were gonna have a massive sleepover.” Your mom nudges you. “Let him leave with Irene. They should spend time together.” Hoseok laughs. “Maybe next time, squirt. I’ll make sure to come home next week and visit. This time, properly.” He gazes at his wife who nods. The two of them leave hand in hand, closer than they were before. It's the perfect outcome. All you could have hoped for. What you know is meant to be. But it isn’t a mere coincidence that Irene came here, that they made up with one another. You know it in your bones — the Love Pages works and it’s your saviour.

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Jihyo notes with a brow raised and you snap back to attention, realizing that you’ve been humming and smiling to yourself. “I guess I just have a lot to be happy about,” you sing-song and your best friend scoffs lighty with a tiny smile of her own. “Yeah, cause you’re dating Park Jimin and even wearing his sweater. Life’s good, isn’t it?” You look down to the navy material that’s soft to the touch, sleeves draped past your fingers. He gave it to you after noticing that you were cold one evening and said you could keep it. You’re happy to wear it too since it carries his comforting scent and makes it clear what your relationship with him is. You smile, unable to retort Jihyo’s snarky yet playful tone. And she notices your love-struck state, rolling her eyes before she’s interrupted by a gawky brunette whose height towers over her sitting form. “Jihyo, you said you had the homework answers?” She looks up and deadpans, “I never said I would give them to you, Namjoon.” You’re stunned at how your best friend can be so cold to her crush, but you know it’s just a front to keep herself from being flustered and out of control. Namjoon seems to know as well since he grins. “I thought we could compare.” “Fine.” She exhales, acting like it’s all a chore when you’re certain she’s ecstatic. Jihyo brushes a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and smooths out her skirt as she stands. “Let’s see what you have, Joon.” You watch them stride across the classroom to his desk, eyes tracing their backsides. And then you’re reaching down to your backpack for the pastel pink notebook. You’re not sure when you started bringing it around with you, but the Love Pages have become your good luck charm. You feel naked without it in your possession. No one notices when you push aside your biology textbook. When you flip it open. When you take your pencil and begin scribbling names inside. Kim Namjoon Park Jihyo There’s a reason this notebook fell into your lap and you’re not going to let it go to waste. Out of everyone you know, Jihyo deserves her feelings to be reciprocated. And you’ll play cupid if that’s what it takes. Swiftly, the notebook is closed and you slide it back into your backpack. A beat later, your best friend is returning and colour is drained from her face. She plops down in her desk chair, the seat in front of yours. “Jihyo?” She looks like she’s seen a ghost and you’re alarmed, wondering if something went wrong. “What happened?” “Namjoon...he….he….” She blinks hard. “He just asked me out…?” “What?” Your head whips across the classroom where said boy is smiling at your friend. You didn’t know the effects of the Pages are so instantaneous. “When? Right now?” She nods after a delayed second and a smile spreads into your face. You try to keep your squeals down before it collects the attention of the rest of the class. “Oh my god, Jihyo! I’m so happy for you!” Her brows furrow. “I don’t get it….it came out of nowhere….” “Does it matter?” You grab your best friend’s hands. “You’re going on a date with Kim Namjoon!” “I am. I...am!” Your best friend finally looks you in the eye, giddy at the idea. “I need to go shopping!” // “—and then she came back and told me that he asked her out!” You’re smiling from ear to ear, twirling around to face Jimin as he watches you with a smile. You don’t think it’s possible that you could be any happier than this. Not only do you have Jimin by your side, but you’ve granted both your brother and your best friend their wishes. “They’re going to catch a movie this weekend, I think.” “You’re so excited,” he laughs. “Sounds like you’re the one going on the date.” “Jihyo’s liked Namjoon for so long. I’m just happy for her.” “You spend a lot of time with Jihyo, huh?” Jimin comments as you come to a stop at the light, waiting for the pedestrian signal to come on. “She’s my only friend,” you admit with a small smile, reminiscing over the years. Your steps sync with Jimin’s again. “My best friend. We’ve been through thick and thin.” “I’m jealous,” your boyfriend squeezes your hand, eyes glimmering. “I want you all to myself.” You lightly scoff at his flirtation and his smile only widens until you let go of your interlaced hands to open the mailbox in front of your house. But unfortunately, there’s nothing inside. No acceptance or even rejection letters from any colleges or universities like you were anticipating. There’re no bills or advertisement pamphlets either which probably means your dad’s home from work and beaten you to the punch. “Well, I’ll call you later then, Jimi—” “Can I come in?” he asks, eyes twinkling with hope. You’re taken aback and glance over your shoulder, not sure if introducing your boyfriend to your parents so soon is a good idea. While you know they try their hardest, your parents can be extremely overbearing. They tend to bombard anyone you talk to with a million questions, yet somehow, they’re still out of touch with your life. Your relationship with your parents isn’t spectacular to say the least. But when Jimin takes a step forward with confidence, you have a feeling that they’ll like him as much as you do. After all, who doesn’t like Jimin? And you’re not wrong. “Hello. Nice to meet you.” He dips his head in greeting, tone respectful as he stands in the foyer of your home. Your mom’s brows are raised to her hairline while your dad is seemingly sizing him up. “My name is Park Jimin. I’m Y/N’s classmate.” “Actually, he’s my boyfriend,” you clarify, deciding to be straightforward with it and your parents exchange expressions. But within minutes, you know they’ve fallen for him too. “Oh dear, you’re on the soccer team as well?” Jimin nods. “I’ve been playing since elementary, but I’m not that great at it.” “That’s a blatant lie,” you object while sticking your head from the kitchen into the living room where they’re seated. “Jimin’s the star of the soccer team.” “That’s very remarkable,” your father notes with stars practically in his eyes. You have to hold back laughter just watching them. “How do you manage to be so studious, keep up such great grades, maintain a social life and play sports at the same time?” “I’m not as impressive as it sounds,” Jimin laughs shyly, scratching the back of his neck. “I just do a little every day. I think having supportive parents help a lot and having Y/N around does too. She’s always supported me, even before we got together, so I owe her a lot.” Their smiles are bright, bodies relieved and you match Jimin’s soft smile. Any nervousness of having Jimin meet your family vanishes like it never even existed. And for a moment, you imprint the scene in front of you in the forefront of your brain. You wonder if your future will someday look like this — Jimin sitting across from your parents in your family home. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Jimin?” your mother asks and he enthusiastically nods. // Life is perfect. “You’ll come to my game, right?” “Of course, I will!” The days and weeks are flying by fast, and you’re getting closer and closer to graduation. It’s hectic but a busyness that isn’t tiring — not when you’re enjoying every moment of it. “And the winner of the final soccer match of this season goes to Daykey High!” Cheers erupt from the stands and as you shoot up with your own hollers, Jimin whips his body around after being dogpiled on by his teammates and grins. He races up the stands when he gets a chance, engulfs you in his embrace and gives you a sweaty kiss full of vigour that has you smiling. Months ago, you would’ve never known your last months of high school would be spent so perfectly. It feels like a dream come true, like your biggest desires have been granted. “Jimin!” “What?” “Are you going to come, dude? We’ve missed you at like five hangouts so far. C’mon, this one’s gonna be the last one, you have to come.” “Nah.” He grabs his duffle bag. “Sorry, guys. I'll probably have to back out of this one too. Can’t leave my girlfriend waiting.” “What’s going on, Chim?” The soccer captain steps forward with his brows furrowed. “This isn’t like you.” “What do you mean?” Jimin laughs. “Nothing’s going on.” Another snorts and slings an arm over his shoulder. “You got it bad for your girl, don’t you?” Jimin’s sheepish when he admits it. “She’s the only one for me.” Sometimes you’re frightened that you’ll wake up one morning and find that everything you’ve been living through was really just a dream. But time and time again, you open your eyes to see the pastel pink notebook on your desk. And it’s a reminder that it’s what brought you all this joy. The Love Pages made this possible. “H-Hey, Jimin.” Seulgi lingers outside the locker room, struggling to meet his eye as she teeters from side to side. “Congratulations on winning.” “Thanks! It was a tough game, but I’m glad we pulled through.” “Yeah...well..um…I—.” “I’ll see you around?” Jimin smiles and Seulgi nods after a delayed second. They exchange small smiles full of distant politeness, but as Jimin turns to catch up to you, his expression grows genuine. You hope this lasts forever. // “Hey, Jihyo….” “What.” “How are your eyes so beautiful?” Namjoon mutters and the girl busy with her paper turns her head to glare at him. The corner of his mouth curls and he hums, “I wonder how I’ll go on without you. I might miss you to death.” She scoffs, unwavered by the greasy lines. “Get your ass to class before you’re late.” Namjoon grins and as he gets up, grabbing his bag with him, he makes sure to plant a surprise kiss to the top of her head. The gawky boy laughs at his partner’s scandalized expression and takes his leave. In the meanwhile, the smile itching up your features finally reveals itself and you march across the library floor to plop down into the seat that Namjoon had occupied. “You two lovebirds really need a room.” Jihyo makes a noise of acknowledgment at the back of her throat. “How did the fourth date go?” “What? Oh yeah. It was fine.” Her response is short and you chalk it up to her merely concentrating on finishing her assignment, but after a minute, Jihyo lifts her chin and looks at you. “Hey, Y/N.” “What?” “Do you think Namjoon’s off somehow?” “What do you mean?” “I know him.” Jihyo pauses. “Namjoon would rather die than say something as cheesy as he just did.” You loll your head to one side and shrug. “I don’t know. Love changes people, Jihyo. You should stop overthinking it and just let yourself be loved.” She blinks and hums, returning back to her work. // The library is becoming quieter and quieter as summer arrives. Jihyo doesn’t blame everyone for preferring to spend their remaining days outside with their friends than hanging out in a place surrounded by bookshelves and studying for exams. But if anything, it makes her job easier. There are fewer books to shelve, fewer people to attend to and less to clean up. With only a student here or there, she’s able to savour the last shifts of library duty left. “Joon.” “Hmmm?” Not to mention, no one really bats a lash with her boyfriend hanging around beside her. Ever since they started dating officially, Namjoon’s been glued to her side. But Jihyo doesn’t mind. The company and conversations are welcome. Even the librarian finds him endearing. “When did you become interested in me?” Namjoon is seemingly perplexed by the question and their eyes meet as they stand between the thin aisle between two looming bookcases. “I don’t know. One moment, everything was fine and then the next, I started feeling this way.” Jihyo’s frowns. “Suddenly?” “It was a bit weird for me too, but then I realized I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It...hit me and it was intense, so I asked you out.” His smile softens, dimples creased into each side of his cheek. “Why?” Jihyo sighs and shakes her head. “No reason. It just seemed like you never liked me like that before or at least you never hinted at it.” “That’s true. I saw you as just a friend for the longest time.” Namjoon leans in, his smile sweet towards his girlfriend. “Is that such a bad thing?” Jihyo scoffs lightly but then shakes her head with a tiny smile. Maybe you’re right. Maybe she is overthinking it. “I just have to get used to it.” It’s that same afternoon that Jihyo walks home by herself — Namjoon busy with his other clubs and unable to accompany her. She doesn’t mind much, actually finding solace in her alone time. But Jihyo’s mind wanders and she realizes it’s been a long time since she’s hung out with you outside of class or library duty. Jimin’s monopolized you these days and as happy as she is to watch you giddy, she misses her best friend. 4:38 pm. Jihyo: wanna go out for ice cream or something 4:39 pm. Y/N: hell yeah!!! :D 4:39 pm. Y/N: omw home 4:39 pm. Y/N: wanna meet up there? Jihyo smiles to herself and turns down the familiar street to your house. The school’s boundary lines are narrow, so most of the students live in the same small neighbourhood. And considering that Jihyo’s been your friend since grade six, she’s no stranger to your house, the white mailbox, the gate, and the small yard that the pair of you used to play on. They’re all nostalgic memories to her. “About time!” she calls out when she sees you. You laugh, quickening your strides. “It only took me five minutes!” “On another date with Jimin?” Jihyo follows after you, through the door and up the stairs to your room. It’s quiet which only means your mom’s running errands and your dad’s not home from work yet. “We just went to a bookstore and grabbed food.” She laughs and drops her backpack by your bed. “Can you eat ice-cream then?” “Don’t you know there’s always room for dessert?” You grin while patting your stomach. “Speaking of which, I need to take a leak before we leave. Be right back.” She snorts and pulls out her phone to check her usual apps. But there’s nothing much to see aside from the string of heart emojis that Namjoon sends for no reason. She rolls her eyes, but smiles to herself. Namjoon’s an idiot. But he should be lucky he’s a cute one. Jihyo boredly wanders to your desk, eyes falling upon the shell pink container. She holds the candle up, glad that you actually liked the birthday present enough to burn half of it. Then she sets it down and picks up the lighter, rolling the wheel and observing the flame that sparks. She puts it down, looks over the polaroids you have strung on the wall, and then her eyes stray to a crime novel you have pushed on the side of your desk. Jihyo smiles to herself in amusement. She didn’t know you picked up reading recently. Curious, she flips it over to read the synopsis of the book, but then something underneath catches her eye. A baby pink notebook. The Love Pages. Her brows furrow and she discards the crime novel to the side in favour of the magnetizing pull coming from the notebook. She’s curious. Her intuition forces her to look. Jihyo turns the notebook over, and she becomes more and more bewildered as she reads the rules. As she reads the warning. Then, she flips it open. At the same time you return. “J-Jihyo?” You’re frozen at the door. “Y/N. What is this?” “Nothing.” You damn yourself for not putting the notebook in the drawer, for not bringing it with you like you so often do. You forgot about taking it with you this morning when you were in a rush to get ready and now you’re paying the price for your mistake. You take two wide strides across the floor to snatch— But Jihyo’s grip remains firm. She doesn’t let you rip the notebook from her hands. Her tight hold crinkles the corners of the pages. “Y/N.” Jihyo’s eyes meet yours. Cold. Firm. “What is this?” You release your sigh and your arm comes to your side. “Remember when we were cleaning out the storage room of the library two months ago? I found it there and it works. I know it’s hard to believe, but it works, Jihyo.” It takes a second for the words to sink in. But then it hits Jihyo like a freight train, slamming into her form, smashing into her brain. She doesn’t want to believe it — not when it’s so outrageous and outlandish — but it all clicks. Everything finally makes sense. “Is this….how you got Namjoon to go out with me?” Her pupils trace his name on the lined paper and then the straight lines of her own name. Jihyo looks up at you, colour drained from her face. She whispers as if someone could overhear, “Is this how you got Jimin to go out with you?” “I wrote it as a joke first.” Your voice is pitched as you frantically explain, “but then Jimin started to pay attention to me and the next day, he even asked me out! I...I didn’t think it worked but then Hoseok came home and he was about to get divorced, Jihyo. It was really bad. But I wrote their names in and they’re fine now. See? It works and it’s a good thing!” She shakes her head slowly, connecting the dots. “You wrote my name in it...and you didn’t even ask me.” “I know and I’m sorry.” Your palms are clammy. You’re not sure why she’s so upset with you, why she’s giving you such a horrified look as if you did something so wrong. “But I didn’t know if you would believe me and since it worked, I thought...why not.” “Why not?! You didn’t ask for my consent! I didn’t want this! I can’t believe you did this, Y/N!” “What do you mean you didn’t want this?” It’s your turn to be upset — if anything, you did Jihyo a favour. You were looking out for her as her friend. “You liked Namjoon for the longest time! I did this for you!” “This isn’t what I wanted!” Jihyo’s voice is shrill and you flinch. “This is so wrong, Y/N. This is so fucked.” “How? We got what we wanted, didn’t we?!” “But have you ever thought about the other side?! Have you ever thought about them?” she asks, coming face to face with you. “You’ve made everything artificial! Why would you go against their will and control them like this?” “It’s not against their will!” “It is!” Jihyo screams, voice straining in her throat. “Namjoon only saw me as a friend and nothing more, and Jimin didn’t even know you!” Her words reverberate in your ears. Jimin didn’t even know you. Your fist curls as you tremble. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as tears threaten at your lash line. You can’t believe she just said that, that she can be so ungrateful. She doesn’t get it. And you thought out of anyone, Jihyo would be the one who would understand you most. “How do you get rid of it?” she demands, thrusting the notebook to your face. “How?!” “You….have to erase the names.” “Then fucking do it!” “Fine! Move!” You push her aside and press the book to your desk, grabbing the pencil that nearly rolls off. You take the eraser end and rub her name and Namjoon’s from the paper. Fine. If she wants you to erase it, you’ll erase it. But you know she’ll come running back to you to write it in again. You scrub the names hard enough that the shiny surface of the paper dulls. Hard enough that the pink eraser bits fill the page. That your hand physically hurts. You show her when you’re done. “There. Happy?” “Erase Jimin’s name.” “What?” By sheer instincts, you pull back and press the notebook to you. “No.” “Y/N. This is crazy. This is so wrong. You’re violating your morals for—” “I have no morals,” you cut her off. She can yell at you, shame you, make you erase what you did for her. But you draw the line here. “Don’t you realize, Jihyo? You said it yourself. Jimin never looked twice at me. And I know he would’ve never asked me out. He would’ve never gone on that date, he would’ve never made me his girlfriend. He would’ve never told me he loves me.” “Y/N—” “I’ve never been loved or looked at like this before.” You swallow hard, eyes stinging, the lump in your throat makes it hard to talk. Most of all, your heart aches. “For the first time in my life, I’ve actually had someone like me back. For the first time in my life, I’ve had someone love me like that. Without this notebook, it would’ve been impossible.” “But you can’t force him—” “I’m not forcing him to do anything!” Blood curdles at the back of your throat. You wish someone else was in the house, then they could rush upstairs and take Jihyo away from you. Away from threatening your happiness. “That’s not how the Love Pages works!” She steps forward, arm extending. “Then if that’s true, erase his name.” You flinch away from her. “I will never erase Jimin’s name!” “Y/N!” — “Leave me alone!” You try to push past her, but Jihyo grabs the notebook. Your attempt to rip it from her grip and shove her away is ultimately futile. Jihyo’s grabbed hold of the edge and she’s not letting go. In your desperation, you catch a fistful of her hair and she stomps on your foot, shouting ‘bitch!’ at you. You cry aloud, wonder why it’s so hard for you to be happy. You love him. Your hands are slipping, but you untangle your fingers from Jihyo’s head and manage to seize the cover with your right hand. The notebook flips open, papers dangling downwards between your struggle. Jihyo screams for you to let go, that this is crazy, but you ignore her. She knows nothing. You love Jimin. And all you want is for him to love you back. The pair of you yank back and forth. When it looks like you’re about to win, Jihyo snags a page near the back. And it rips as you snatch it towards you. The paper tears. You both stumble to the ground from the force of your grasps. Your own hand slams into your mouth, bruising your lip. Jihyo across from you has her hair in a disarray and you’re horrified to find her holding her eye. She cusses again, tone venomous. The notebook falls beside you, the empty white page fluttering in between. It’s silent as you two hyperventilate. Then Jihyo stands. She brushes past you, roughly grabbing her bag. “Suit yourself. But don’t get me involved anymore. I want no part of this.” The girl stomps out and you don’t look behind you. You don’t race after her, tell her to wait, explain that there’s a misunderstanding. Because there isn’t. You already said your piece. You allow the slamming of the front door to echo. But you do get up to watch her from the window. She acts like this is your fault, that you did something so horrible to her when what you did for her was a miracle. She’s the ungrateful bitch. Self-righteous in the dumbest ways. And you hope she never comes back. // Even when your anger has subsided, you know there are certain things that can’t be forgiven. Jihyo ignores you when you glance in her direction, when you move past her, when you stand in front of her. At school and lunch, she hangs out with the other girls, never once sparing you a look or the friendly smile she gives to her new friends. And it’s a change that others notice. “Is everything okay?” your classmate asks curiously. “Did you and Jihyo have a fight or something?” Your bruised lip and the skin around her eye blossomed blue speaks for itself. “Something like that.” You muster a smile. “But I’m fine.” “Oh. Well, make up soon then.” But you highly doubt that’ll happen. If she wants to be a bitch, then you can be one too. You can ignore her. You can pretend she doesn’t exist….. But unlike Jihyo, it’s always been harder for you to be cold. Not when you’ve spent so many years and made countless memories together. So you’re unable to resist when Namjoon comes by during the last shift of your library duty — one that you know she’s arranged to be absent at. “Do you know where she is?” Yet, the tall brunette merely shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t. Jihyo...actually broke up with me yesterday, so….yeah….” “Oh. I’m...I’m sorry to hear that, Namjoon.” He smiles. “It’s okay. It was pretty mutual.” You watch him leave, not batting a single lash, without a single trace of heartbreak on his features and then you divert your vision. You know things will never be the same for them again. Jihyo and Namjoon might never become as friendly as they were prior to their relationship. But you also know she’s wrong. You never forced Jimin to do anything. You didn’t force him to have feelings for you. That’s not how the Love Pages works— “BOO!” A hand comes down on your shoulder and a scream tears out of your throat as you spin around. You nearly fall on the ground from startlement, but Jimin latches onto your wrist, stabilizing you. “Y-You almost scared me to death!” “Sorry, sorry.” Your boyfriend laughs. “I didn’t know you would be so scared.” “Don’t do that again,” you scold, heart rate steadying. “How long were you even following me for?” “Not that long. You seemed a bit off. I had to make sure you got home safe and didn’t talk to anyone else.” Jimin syncs his steps into yours, familiar with the route you take home after accompanying you so many times. But as silence simmers between the pair of you, he takes notice. Jimin slips his hand into yours, slowing down. “Y/N. What’s wrong?” You shake your head, words caught in your throat. You don’t know what to say, where to start, what you can tell him. How he’d even react. And it’s all too overwhelming for you to bear. Against your will, you burst into tears. The tsunami of emotions — anger, sorrow, regret — they clog your chest and shed in the form of teardrops. It hangs on your lashes, drips down your cheeks, clouds your vision. And the only comfort you receive is when Jimin reaches out, guiding your head to his shoulder. “J-Jihyo….she….she hates me…” You hang onto him, tight fists clutching onto Jimin’s jacket. You were scared — scared when your only friend turned their back against you and found others to replace you so quickly, frightened when you realized just how isolated you are, petrified when you had a taste of what it’s like to walk the halls alone, to eat alone, to sit alone. To be alone. To be abandoned. If Jimin leaves too, you’ll truly have no one. “It’s okay,” he hums, locking you in a secure embrace. “You don’t need anyone but me.” Jimin consoles you without needing to be asked. He soothes you and says the things you’ve yearned to hear since yesterday. You return his hug, quieting your sobs and strengthening your resolve. You can’t give him up. // You’re not sure why it took you so long to realize what is and isn’t important. In a blink of an eye, the entire world seems to have shifted. The things — people — you treasured can so easily throw you away and all this time, you didn’t know. You’ve been played. Time wasted. “Y/N, are you home?” your mom calls from the kitchen as the front door shuts and she stumbles out with a frown. “You’re later than usual today. Were you with someone? Jihyo?” “I was with Jimin,” you sigh, kicking off your shoes. “Where did you go?” “Nowhere. We just talked.” “About what?” “Nothing! God, can you stop asking me questions?!” You stomp up the stairs. Your mother exhales in frustration and calls after you, “Well get yourself looking nice! Your brother and Irene are coming over for dinner tonight! Are you listening to me?! Don’t ignore me, Y/N!” But you do ignore her as you zip to your room and shut the door. Finally, you’re able to get a moment of peace and quiet, and once it settles, you take two large strides across your room. You swiftly slip the Love Pages out of your backpack and into the bottom drawer of your desk. Without blinking, you grab the half-burnt pink candle and dump it into the bin. I can’t believe you did this, Y/N! Your bottom lip trembles but your determination hardens as you begin tearing off the strung polaroids on your wall. You’re suffocated just looking at them. Bitch! Your sixteenth birthday spent with Jihyo — sleepovers in seventh grade — summers spent at summer camp. You rip the photographs all off and they follow the candle in the trash. Suit yourself. But don’t get me involved anymore. I want no part of this. An unpleasant feeling sits at the pit of your stomach and you flop down onto your bed. You shut your eyes before being plagued by the moment she turns her back, how she passes by the hall, giggling with other classmates. They’re moments played over and over until you feel nauseous. “It’s fine,” you mutter to yourself and repeat, “It’s fine.” You’re graduating soon. You can finally get away from here. You can move far away, to a university out of the city. You open your eyes to stare at the ceiling, tears stinging. And you inhale a staggering breath. Soon. You can go with Jimin and the two of you can vanish together. You’ll never have to think about your lost best friend or what you did. You can leave the Love Pages behind.

It’s a permanent turning point. Your friendship with Jihyo never mends or is even a topic of conversation. Sometimes, you can feel her looking at you from the corner of her eye as if she’s judging you for the secret she knows. One she’s aware no one would believe her for, but that you both know what you did. You don’t speak to each other, merely passing by in the same spaces and no one asks. After all, friends drift apart all the time. Everyone merely finds a new normal and so do you. Jimin becomes your new best friend. Sometimes, you eat lunch with his friends. Sometimes, it’s solely with him. The two of you continue going on dates and when you’re not, it’s conversations through text or shy talks on the phone. And sometimes— “C’mon, no one’s home.” “Yeah, but what if your mom returns and finds me in her son’s bedroom? That would be a bad look.” He laughs. “I promise she won’t. And even if she did, she’d still love you.” “I don’t know about that, Jimin.” “I’ll still love you and that’s what’s important, right?” Jimin pulls you into his cozy house and before you know it, your back is pressed against his soft sheets as he hovers over you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. No teasing words are spoken when the boy leans down to capture his lips with yours. It’s an eager kiss where you’re able to relish in the softness and the warmth of Jimin’s skin. Your arms automatically loop around his torso and you feel his smile against you. Jimin steals all the breath from your lungs and you’re left gasping as his mouth trails from your jaw to your neck. “J-Jimin,” you pant his name with swollen lips, leaning into his touch. “I missed you.” “What’d yo..u mean? I saw you today.” “Seeing isn't enough.” His mouth sucks into the juncture of your neck, marking it red to his liking and knowing it’ll bloom blue. Jimin lifts himself and smiles tenderly. “Tell me you’re mine, Y/N.” His gaze is soft, full of affection and endearment, and it swells your heart. “I’m yours.” “That’s right. You’re mine,” he whispers and kisses you again. He fiddles with the hem of your plush sweater and not long after, he’s tugging your camisole down. Sometimes you stay in Jimin’s bed, limbs tangled with one another’s. Other times, he’s busy with soccer practice and you come home by yourself— “Huh, did someone….move my cardigan?” You frown, wondering why it’s draped over the back of your chair and not the bed. Maybe your mom was trying to clean up for you again. “Hello?” you call, poking your head out your door. There isn’t an answer. You scoff to yourself, wondering what you were expecting. Anyway, life for the most part is normal again. With Jimin by your side, he’s become a pillar of your strength and a reason for your resiliency. He is the many of your firsts. And he makes you look forward to even better days. “Hey. Jimin?” “Hmm?” The pair of you are laying in his small bed and you shift your head to find him gazing at you with tender eyes and a softened smile. It tickles your own lips and you stare at him — his brown kaleidoscopic irises, his dark strands of hair nearly pricking into them. It’s quiet in his house with his parents gone and the fuzzy afternoon sunlight casting through the window makes you sleepy. If you don’t blink, you can spot the specs of dust floating in the air. “What are you thinking about?” “Nothing much.” Your voice is a murmur and you inhale gently, senses filled with Jimin’s comforting scent. “Do you think...you would’ve loved me before this school year?” “Of course, I would.” Jimin smiles as if you’re silly. “We’re meant to be.” He twines his hand with yours, fingers interlaced, and your sleepy smile stretches into cheeks. But Jihyo’s cursed you. She’s done the worst possible thing. She’s planted a seed in your mind. A seed of doubt. And it’s sprouted, taken root, embedded and coiled deep enough that you can’t tug it out. Even beautiful moments like these, you’re plagued by her words. You can't help wondering if this is really Jimin or the Love Pages’ doing. It’s chilly one night as you’re walking by yourself, going home from the convenient store down several blocks. The street lights are bright, illuminating both your figure and casting your shadow on the brick. But then you halt. Feet against the asphalt. Turning around. You swear, you felt eyes— Ring. Your phone rings suddenly and you jolt in startlement. You fumble before pulling it out and pressing it to your ear. “Hello?” You continue walking, except this time, your steps quicken. “Jimin?” “What’re you doing?” “Nothing,” you exhale, feeling comforted with him on the other line. “I’m so happy to hear your voice.” He laughs boyishly and you smile to yourself, practically able to hear his grin. Jimin sighs quietly, “Why does that make me feel happy?” “Did you finish running errands with your dad? Where are you?” “I’m always with you,” he quips playfully and you roll your eyes. It’s a joke, but as you peek over your shoulder, unsettlement sticks in your stomach. It feels like you’re always being watched. // “Jimin.” You stare up at the popcorn ceiling of his room, eyes running over the pointed ridges and dips, and drawing constellations from your imagination. “Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” He turns his head, having been folding his laundry on the floor. “What do you mean?” “The other night, I was grabbing something for my dad at the convenient store and while I was walking home, it felt like….someone was watching me.” “Was there?” he asks. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone.” “Maybe you’re just being paranoid,” Jimin comforts with a small smile and finishes folding his last shirt. He comes up on the bed and you make room for him to lay next to you. “Or maybe it’s your guardian angel protecting you.” You scoff. “What guardian angel?” “Me,” he giggles softly and reads your expression. “Would that be so bad?” Your brows furrow and you go silent. Blood drains from your face and confusion makes your head dizzy. It’s outrageous to ask, but you do so— “Were you the one following me, Jimin?” He hums, “Maybe.” Instantly, you push your boyfriend’s hand away that was playing with your hair and you sit up. “I’m being serious.” Jimin follows after you, getting up. “I don’t get why you’re so upset.” “It’s weird! You’re stalking me!” “I’m protecting you,” he corrects and his voice softens. “I’m doing this for your own good, Y/N. I see people on the news getting kidnapped all the time. I just…I don’t want you to be taken away or put in danger. I don’t think I could live with myself if you got hurt and I wasn’t around to help.” You press your palms against your forehead, not knowing where to even begin. After a beat, your voice croaks, “How long have you been doing this for?” Jimin shrugs. “A while.” His intentions might come from a good place, but it makes you nauseous to think about how Jimin’s been following you. How he’s been tracing your steps, watching you from behind. And you didn’t even know. You don’t want to ask what else he’s done. “I’m not going to get hurt, Jimin. You don’t need to follow me like that.” “But you don’t know when something might happen. No one knows. I just want to be there for you.” Your thoughts are in a disarray, not sure how you should even reason with him. Shouldn’t it be common sense? At your ongoing silence, Jimin reaches out to hug you. But you stand, slipping away from his arms. “I think I need to go home.” “Wait. Y/N.” Jimin’s agile and swift, capturing your wrist in his hand before you’ve grabbed your bag. He stops you in your tracks. “Don’t be mad. I’m sorry!” “I just need a moment by myself, okay?” You try to shake him off. “I-I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Please. Don’t leave me,” his voice drops into a trembling whisper and your head whips around. Your eyes meet his, teary and shaking. Jimin suddenly gets onto his knees, cradling your hand in both of his hands and pressing it to his nose as if he’s praying. He begs, “Don’t leave me.” But his affectionate behaviour only serves to freak you out more. It’s more than bizarre and you quickly tear your hand back, pulling it to your chest and out of his grip. “You’re not being yourself, Jimin.” You grab your bag, turning around and making it to the door— “I love you!” he declares loudly, startling you. His sheer desperation radiates waves and you turn around with wide eyes. Jimin looks like he’s in the midst of a break down. “You’re mine! Is it so wrong to look after you like this? I did it because I love you. I love you, Y/N.” You clutch your bag against your body and divert your vision away from the boy. “Then...promise me you won’t do that again,” you murmur after a handful of uncomfortable seconds have passed, “I’m safe and fine. Secretly following me is excessive and it makes me…..uncomfortable.” Jimin begrudgingly nods. You slowly close the distance and hug him, allowing him to sniffle into your shoulder. He’s fine with letting you leave after the pair of you have made up. Yet, when you arrive home the next day, you swear you feel eyes on your backside. It’s easy to pretend nothing’s wrong when you haven’t noticed before. But once you lock the front door and make it to your room, you nimbly peek out the window. You catch Jimin standing across the street, expressionless. // The situation isn’t mentioned again in fear of another dramatic confrontation, but it dwells. A disturbing discomfort weighs on your shoulders and every sweet call of your name on his lips is startling. You’re not sure why you’re like this, how you can go back to how it used to be, when a mere glance from Jimin had your heart soaring and the butterflies in your tummy tickling. It feels like the rose filter of your eyes have rubbed off. And that you’ve found out the world is darker than the pink shades you previously saw it as. You leave the bathroom, hands still a bit damp in spite of drying them— And you flinch when you see dark strands, brown irises and rounded cheeks standing in the hallway, leaning against the lockers. Jimin smiles. “You’re about to have lunch, right?” You nod. “I was thinking we could eat together today.” “With your friends?” “No. Just us.” As the two of you walk, Jimin slings an arm around your shoulders. It feels heavy instead of warm and comforting. It’s quiet too, until he breaks it. “Have you been avoiding me, Y/N?” You shake your head. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to be distant.” He lovingly presses his head to yours, nuzzling into your hair. “That’s not what a good girlfriend does.” You swallow hard. The food ends up tasting like nothing. This isn’t right. This isn’t the boy next door you fell in love with years ago. Obsessive, controlling, a crazed look in his eye, desperate enough to beg on his knees — this isn’t Jimin. And you know the cause. You know why and how this happened. But you can’t bear to acknowledge the truth. Even when you’ve been plunged so deep, you still want to savour this a little longer. This impossibility. This dream that you’ve been granted. Tears fill your eyes and you gaze at him. Your boyfriend notices your softened expression that searches his face and he smiles, lifting his hand to pat your head. He prepares to walk off to class, but you take the leap while diverting your eyes. “Jimin. A-After graduation…...we need to talk.” His hand comes to curl around your wrist, firm enough that you can’t escape from. His voice drops an octave. “Are you breaking up with me?” You shake your head. “I’m going to tell you the truth.” Jimin’s brows furrow hard and he leans in close. “What’s the truth?” “I’ll tell you afterwards. Just wait a little longer,” you plead, “be patient with me. Please. I love you.” He stares and then nods. Jimin embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to console the turmoil bubbling underneath your skin. No one’s around to witness the intimate moment, so you allow yourself to savour it. “I love you too. I won’t ever let you go.” You nod against him. And you really hope what he says is true. You hope he loves you for you and not because it’s the effect of the Love Pages. // “I’m home!” you call out and shut the door. But instead of hearing your dad’s greeting or your mother’s nagging, there’s a smooth timbre coming from the living room that’s all too familiar. It raises the goosebumps around your arms and you stalk the noise, feet sliding against the floor. “—thinking of maybe renting an apartment—” “Jimin?” You stop in your tracks, bewildered at the sight of him sitting on the couch with your parents across from him, mugs and half-empty glasses of water on the coffee table in between. “W-What are you doing here?” “Oh, sit down! Jimin’s just discussing your plans with us,” your mom says with an endeared smile. “I didn’t know the two of you had so many arrangements for after you graduate, Y/N!” “You should’ve kept us in the loop,” your dad states with a satisfied smile. You swallow hard, approaching on weak knees and collapsing beside your boyfriend. “I’m going to the same university as you are,” Jimin informs with a proud smile, hands knitted together and posture straight. He’s the picture perfect son-in-law, an image crafted to perfection. “What? I mean….h-how do you even know what school I’m going to?” “I saw the acceptance letter, silly.” Jimin smiles. “I can’t believe you hid it from me.” “It was supposed to be a surprise!” you lie frantically, in a rush and spilling out the sentence before your brain can catch up. And once it does, you add in a laugh and quirk your head to the side. “I was waiting for you to get your round of acceptance letters.” Jimin believes you and apologizes for ruining the surprise to which you brush off and tell him it’s okay, that it isn’t a big deal. The crisis is averted until he presents another idea— “We should probably move in together. I’ll have to move out anyway and you will too.” Your mouth opens but your mother exclaims, “That’s a great idea! Jimin’s a good boy who will protect you, Y/N. It’ll make me feel a lot better about you moving so far away.” Jimin smiles. He stays for dinner and your mom fusses about to make sure his stomach is stuffed with her home cooking while your dad reminisces and tells old stories. But you don’t hear anything or taste the food you’ve grown sick of. It’s bland and white noise buzzes against your eardrums— “Y/N.” Jimin slips a hand on top of yours and you flinch before catching yourself. “Y/N. What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” You realize your parents have left the table. “I’m fine.” But you fail to notice how Jimin stops smiling when you turn away. // The long awaited day arrives on a brisk morning. You’ve imagined it countless times before — when your head was laid on your desk, when your face was buried in your textbook, when your hand hurt from gripping your pencil. Graduation is the liberation day, another step to moving forward. After years of schooling, it marks another end and another beginning. You always envisioned getting ready with Jihyo, looking at Jimin from faraway, being swept by the crowds and walking away without too many regrets. In many ways, your fantasy is better and worse in reality. It’s worse in the ways that Jihyo doesn’t look at you. When you call her name, catch up to her, she doesn’t so much as acknowledge who you are. She doesn’t even say her last goodbyes. She doesn’t promise to keep in touch. It’s uncomfortable, for you and those around who witness. Your parents aren’t one of them, but they bombard you with questions when you tell them not to call out to her. Questions you beg them not to ask. Jihyo doesn’t even give you the chance to admit your mistakes. So you let her be. You’re not sure what you expected when she’s the master of holding grudges. All you know is that until the end, you did your part on trying to make amends. The rest is on her. You hope she doesn’t regret it. Nevertheless, there are silver linings. Instead of having to peek at Jimin through the masses, of having him accidentally in the background of pictures, he’s by your side. Your crush is yours to call, yours to hold. But a weight still dwells on the back of your mind. As time passes, you know it’s getting worse and worse. He’s becoming less like Jimin and more like a person you no longer recognize. He’s grown distant with his friends as he solely focuses on you — calling you, texting you, asking where you are, telling you how excited he is to move in with you and how you’ll finally be together. And the more Jimin surrounds himself with you, the more sure you become. You have to erase his name from the Love Pages. Even if you don’t want to. There are consequences of the Pages. You’ve stared at the papers, the names, the rules enough to know. The more naturally compatible a couple is, the more effective the Love Pages will be. The less compatible a couple is, the more undesired consequences will arise. And this is a consequence. If Jimin’s worsening obsession is because of the Love Pages, then you need to stop it. You have to vanquish your doubts about him being with you before this future together begins. You want him to love you for you. “Y/N! What are you doing standing there? Move in!” Hoseok is holding his phone to his face, camera open and ready to capture a picture of you and Jimin together. Irene stands beside him with an enormous grin, temporarily holding the bouquet of flowers they gifted to you. In the meanwhile, your parents and Jimin’s are chatting away. “Okay! Perfect! Ready? One, two three!” Your smile is stiff. No matter how hard you try to maintain it, it twitches and never reaches your eyes. When it’s done, Jimin holds your hand and pulls you to his family. Jimin’s dad is friendly and open while his mom is more soft-spoken, but her features are reminiscent of Jimin's. You’re moved when she gives you a bouquet of peonies on top of the flowers Hoseok and Irene, saying how she just bought some from the stand. “Congratulations, sweetheart.” “Thank you.” Jimin playfully pouts. “You didn’t get me any?” His mom lightly scoffs and bats at him. “You don’t even like flowers.” “I swear Y/N’s gonna be drowning in them by the end of this,” he sighs and everyone laughs. Jimin seems so normal on the surface — no one knows what you do. // Your heart is thumping against your rib cage hard enough to bruise. It’s violent in your ear drums and you could clap to the rhythm of your pulse if you chose. But unfortunately, it isn’t from excitement. Not the feeling of rushing down a roller coaster or falling infatuated within seconds. It’s different from the flutter of a first love or the anxiousness of a class presentation. It’s dread. Hope. Remorse. The day has come — time is up. You’ve finally managed to pull Jimin aside in the chaos of graduation celebrations, alone in the house with your parents over at your brother’s. There’s no room for disturbances, for interruptions, no way you can back down from the promise you made. The two of you enter your room and you inhale a deep breath as you turn to face him. Jimin’s brows are furrowed and he searches your expression. “What is it? What have you been wanting to tell me? You know I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me.” Wordlessly, you stride to your desk, pull the bottom drawer and reach below the file folders. Jimin is solemn as he watches you and you pull out what started this all— A pastel pink notebook and in small text at the front, simple words read ‘Love Pages’. You brace yourself, grip tight enough to crinkle the cover. But then you hand it to Jimin. He deserves to see it for himself. Jimin takes it, curious and confused. “What is this?” “You have a right to know what I did, Jimin,” you murmur quietly as he studies the notebook, flips it over, reads the rules, the warning. “I found this notebook by accident and I know I’m going to sound crazy, but it works. Whoever’s name that’s written in it will fall in love with the second written name. And….I-...I wrote your name back in February.” Jimin’s frown deepens. He flips open the pages. You’re too ashamed to look at him. Your downcast head avoids his glance. “I’m sorry,” you snivel and repeat, “I’m sorry.” You’re not sure how many times will be enough — you don’t think it’ll ever be enough. “I….I’m the one who made you this way, Jimin. I liked you and I thought this was a joke and that it would be harmless, so I wrote your name in it and it ended up working...and I was so happy for the longest time,” your voice breaks and you realize your cheeks are wet. “But this isn’t you.” He’s gone completely silent and you swallow hard, the need to explain compulsive. “The way you’re acting, the person you are when you’re with me, it’s—...it’s a consequence of the Love Pages because we’re not compatible.” You’re sobbing and your heart aches as the words choke out of your closing throat. “And I tried to force something that isn’t compatible. So I’m so...so sorry. I made you lose yourself. I...I shouldn’t have ever done this. So I’m going to erase your name. I’m going to undo all of this, I promise.” Jimin stares at you, lips in a straight line, eyes dimmed. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me, Y/N,” he starts and you muster the courage to look at him, “If what you say is true and if this notebook made me love you, then it’s the greatest thing to ever exist.” “What?” “I got the chance to love you, to be with you when I otherwise wouldn’t have, Y/N.” Jimin’s eyes catch the evening sun through the window and his irises glimmer as the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile. “Why would I want to erase my name?” You shake your head. “This isn’t right, Jimin.” You’re not sure how he drew this conclusion on his own and you quickly approach, but then Jimin holds the notebook up. He extends his arm high above his head and out of your reach. “Jimin,” you beg him, “snap out of it.” “I love you, Y/N. Do you not love me?” You try to reach up, get closer to the pink notebook held mockingly above you. But Jimin swiftly dodges your attempt and rounds towards the desk. “I love you, Jimin. Trust me. I really do love you. But it shouldn’t have been this way. I shouldn’t have made our relationship artificial.” “But I love you, Y/N,” he argues, becoming angry. “That’s not artificial!” “If you love me then p-prove it. Let me erase the names!” You lurch forward, fingertips finally gripping onto the edges, but victory is short an inch. Jimin grabs it hard enough to wrinkle the entire book and all its pages. He screams, “No! I won’t let you erase it! I love you and I won’t risk falling out of love with you!” “Stop this, Jimin, please, I’m begging you, let go,” you desperately spew through gritted teeth and it’s all too familiar— Pushing one another, trying to rip it from his grip, grabbing hold of edges, not letting go. You’ve once stood in the same spot, having the same fight with Jihyo. And it’s an irony that makes your mouth bitter. She was right — and you wonder if she would laugh if she knew. But the difference between then and now is that winning twice is harder than once. Jimin’s backed up against your desk, nearly falling on it but his right hand comes to cushion himself. Though as it does, he feels the objects on your desk. In desperation, he grabs whatever he can to succeed, to perhaps distract you with. And he finds the lighter. It takes one second. One for Jimin’s strength to easily overpower yours. For him to yank it hard. For the smooth, pink cover and its white pages filled with endless names to slip from your fingertips. For Jimin to scrape his thumb across the wheel of the lighter. And for you to hear the flickering flare, the rasping sparks, the quiet hum of the orange flame igniting. Jimin brings the fire to the notebook. He burns it, sealing the Love Pages together. “No!” Your last attempt to grab it is futile. You’re left to drop to your knees. The blood-curdling shriek in your ears is unrecognizable until you realize it's yours. Your pupils reflect the tangerine hue of the fire, the ash of the pages curling together, the soft pink that turns to black cinders fluttering down like Spring cherry blossoms in front of you. Jimin’s smile is sweet. “The only way to remove my name is to erase it, right? Look, Y/N. This way, we can always be together.” A tear drips from your lash down your cheeks. Your mouth opens but the sob doesn’t come from your throat already sore from yelling, screaming, apologizing. Instead, you cry like a marble statue shocked in time. Jimin drops the burning corner of the Love Pages and the last of the binding melts into your carpet. He lowers himself and wipes away the tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “You made me better,” he coos, “the Love pages made me better.” Jimin sighs and caresses your head gently. “If this is what the issue was then I’m actually relieved. I thought you were going to try to break up with me. This obstacle means nothing to me, Y/N. It means nothing to us.” He laughs and quickly reassures, “Soon enough, we’ll move away. No one will be able to find us. We can finally get away from….this. All these distractions. I can finally have you all for myself.” He embraces you, arms wrapped around your body, propping his chin on top of your shoulder and breathing in the scent of your hair. It’s suffocating. Your eyes dim. Jimin’s trapped you. He’s caught you in his web.

You think about running. Even when he follows you half across the country under the guise of continuing education, you think about running in the middle of the night while he’s asleep. You fantasize about slowly slinking the arm slung around your body off, moving his dead weight from you, or moving during the day when he’s forced to be away. Before it’s too late. Before it worsens. You can still escape. But somehow, Jimin always knows where you are. He texts at night when you’re gone for too long. He calls when you’re at the grocery store to buy certain things he forgot. And you know for a fact, he would track you down and look for you until his last breath if you tried to flee. But your hesitance is not only because of him. It’s your fault too. A part of you always stops, with one foot out the door of the apartment and your bag slung over your shoulder in the middle of the night. You’re unable to abandon the faded image of the boy you used to long for. Unable to stop the guilt from overwhelming you that you began this. That you’re the one who reduced him to this crazed state from your own selfishness. And the only way to undo what’s happened to him is gone. For just a moment, you wanted to be loved. But what was an innocent wish morphed into a sin you blinded yourself too. All those months ago, had you done nothing, had you sat still, it would’ve never been like this. And that haunts you. You can’t bear to abandon Jimin, to try to get away, to call the police and attempt an escape. You can’t make him surrender his entire life, disappoint his family, lose his scholarship, mark his history with red. You can’t make him lose more of himself than what he’s already lost. Jimin is both the benefit and the consequence you have to shoulder for the choices you made. “Y/N! Come here!” Your mother rushes you in for a hug and pastes a wet kiss on your cheek. “I’m so glad the two of you could make it back for your winter break! I missed you so much.” Jimin shadows you, dragging in the suitcases and your mother smiles at him. “Jimin! You too! Get in here!” She hugs him as he giggles and pats her back. The festive music plays in the background, your dad, brother and sister-in-law in the living room chatting away. But you don’t enter the warm room. Rather, you ascend the darkened staircase. The pitch black envelops your form until you reach for the knob of your old room. The door creaks as it swings open. Your room is undisturbed, just like you left it except for the thin layer of dust sitting on the furniture. You remember when you sat at the desk, when you knew absolutely nothing. Stiffly, you take two strides and sit back down on the creaking chair. You flick the table lamp on and off, watching how it illuminates the space before darkening it again, listening to the click of the button. Then, your eyes travel to the discarded lighter. You pick it up, rolling the wheel and observing the flame that sparks. A moment later, you put it down and instinctively from the habits you’ve built, you reach down to tug open the bottom drawer. As if you’ll see the Love Pages reappear. As if the notebook will sit right there as it did for so long. But instead, you notice a folded piece of lined paper tucked at the side. You take it out, studying the page in a transfixed state. The lines are a light blue, the white crisp and clean, but it’s completely torn on the side. You remember. “Erase Jimin’s name.” Jihyo all that time ago, tried to convince you to erase his name. You should’ve listened to her then, salvaged your friendship while you still could. But what was left of her and that fight was this page torn out of the Love Pages. You stare at it. The final evidence of such a notebook ever existing. And then you’re grabbing the pen on your desk. The ink bleeds on the page, letters feathering away, but you scratch it hard enough to hear, looping the names onto the paper, knowing it’s permanent— L/N Y/N Park Jimin Jimin shuffles into the room and notices your backside cowering over the desk. “Sweetheart, is there something wrong? Are you hiding something?” You turn from the chair and he’s startled from your enormous grin and your brightened eyes. You shake your head and run to him, lurching forward. “Jimin!” You throw your arms around his neck and he stumbles back from the impact of your embrace. “I love you so, so much.” It’s hard to express the feelings that have suddenly devastated you, so you tear yourself from him to kiss him. It’s an eager kiss, one where your mouths smack together, where you’re gripping his sweater, tasting him and trying to get as close as you can but to no avail. All you’re aware of is the need to have Jimin by your side. You might die without him here. When you pull away, he’s grinning, happy that you aren’t so distant anymore. “You love me, right?” “Of course, I do!” Jimin’s almost upset at the question. “Why would you even ask that?!” You laugh joyfully, the sound chortling from your throat. Your chest is rising and falling, pupils blown wide as your massive grin makes your cheeks ache. “Then you’re mine.” “That’s right. I’m yours.” You embrace Jimin again, arms wrapped tightly around his warm torso as your nose digs into his shoulder and his own arms cage your body. It feels like you’ve been sewn to each other by your skin and the thought makes you even more giddy. You love him so much, more than the whole world itself.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jimin angst #jimin fluff #bts angst #bts yandere #bts yandere AU #I know what you're thinking #two dark Jimin fics in a row???#yes lol #the schedule ended up working out that way so I hope y'all don't mind #the fluff will soon be returning to my blog

1K notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Laito Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the forest

Yui: ( ...I made it to the Demon World, but what should I do now...? )

( They always escorted me to their castle in the past, so I don’t know the way either... )

( Running away was the only thing on my mind, so I came here without giving it a second thought, but perhaps I made the wrong choice after all... )

ーー Guess I have no other choice but to proceed for now.

*Rustle*

Yui: !?

( Don’t tell me Wolves have made it this far...!? )

ー She starts running

Yui: Haah, haah...

( ...Seems like they’re not coming after me...Thank god... )

Haah...I’m kind of tired...

( Perhaps I should find shelter somewhere and wait for the sun to rise...Then I’ll continue my search for the castle once it’s light ouーー )

( Ah, but...But if I recall correctly, the nights here last much longer than those in the human world... )

What now...?

( For now, I’ll find a safe space to rest. There’s no point in aimlessly running around... )

ー The scene shifts to a cave

Yui: Haah...What should I do next?

( I wonder if I should just head back? Even if I continue to wander around here... )

( However, that’s where those Wolves are... )

Uu...

( It’s no use. I can’t come up with any good ideas while mentally exhausted... )

( ...I’ll rest up a little. )

Haah...I wonder what Laito-kun’s doing right now...?

ー Yui closes her eyes

*TIMESKIP*

???: Kukukuku...How lovely...Honestly...Why is a girl’s lonely expression just soーー

ーー irresistibly sexy, I wonder? I can’t get enough of it.

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Nn...

*Rustle*

Yui: Nn...Stop...

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: It tickles...

( ーー Wait...!? )

( Something is...feeling me up...!? )

ー She opens her eyes

Yui: Kyaaaaah....!!!

???: Uwah...!?

*Thud*

Yui: ...!! Eh...!?

Laito: Owowow...How could you suddenly jump up like that, Bitch-chan...? You meanie...

Yui: L-Laito-kun...!?

Laito: I took a heavy blow right to the face as a result...

Yui: I...I’m sorry. Are you alright?

Laito: Uuu...I’m fine...

Yui: Haah, thank god...

Laito: I know I’ve only got myself to blame for trying to assault you in your sleep but...

Even so, your headbutt was nothing to scoff at.

Yui: ...Sorry. I was surprised when I felt something touch my body...

More importantly, when did you get here?

Laito: Eh? Quite some time ago?

Yui: Eh!? No way...You should have woken me up then.

Laito: I mean, that would have been a missed opportunity, no~?

Yui: A missed opportunity? Wait, how so?

Laito: This situation, obviously! Nfu~

Yui: ...!?

Laito: My cute Bitch-chan finds herself in unknown territory...

With nobody to come to her rescue, she has to spend a night full of insecurities all by herself.

Just the thought of that gives me the shivers! Don’t you feel the same?

Yui: I-I don’t...! I was really scared, you know...!?

Laito: Oh dear~? Are you mad at me?

Yui: W...Well...

( For as lonely as I felt by myself, seeing Laito-kun still be his usual self makes me feel extremely relieved. )

( I could never get upset at him... )

I’m not angry.

Laito: Fufu...Of course you aren’t~ You just love me after all.

Yui: ...How about you?

Laito: What about me?

Yui: ...Do you also...?

Laito: What’s this? You want to confirm it? I’ve said it plenty of times before, haven’t I?

Yui: Butーー

Laito: Nfu...You’re uncertain, aren’t you? ...I can tell...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: ( Laito-kun... )

Laito: Of course ーー I love you. (1) A lot, okay?

Feeling reassured now? Nfu~

Yui: Yeah...Thank you.

Laito: Haah, I thought we were going to be apart for a while but...Our reunion came quicker than I expected...

Yui: I’m sorry for coming here on a whim. The Wolves made it to the manor...

Laito: Oh no, Bitch-chan. This is what you should say instead.

‘I missed you so much, I couldn’t stand being apart...So while I was thinking of you...

I subconsciously found myself opening the gate to the Demon World.’ ...Something like that?

ーー Say, tell me. I know we weren’t apart for long, but while you were by yourself...You thought of me, didn’t you?

Yui: Well, of course...

Laito: Did you let your imagination run wild during those times?

Yui: Well...

Laito: You didn’t?

Yui: ...I-I didn’t have the time to...

Laito: Really?

Yui: I don’t lie...

Laito: Fufu...Bitch-chan, no point in hiding it~

I can tell. The fact that your face is flushed as red as a strawberry right now proves my point.

You see...While feeling sad from noticing how my scent slowly faded from your own body.

Your feelings for me should have only grown stronger...

...Just like mine did...Haah...

ー He takes in her scent

Yui: Laito-kun, that tickles...

Laito: You don’t like it?

Yui: Uu...

Laito: Say, Bitch-chan? Should I not put myself at ease by taking in your scent like this?

Yui: ( He really sees right through me... )

Laito: Kukuku....A prisoner of love, you’re completely in my grasp, aren’t you?

ーー I don’t think I have to say this...But you have me in your grasp as well.

The truth is, I was worried you might just follow me here, so I’ve been keeping an eye on you.

Yui: Eh...!? T-Then...You’ve been watching me ever since I set foot inside this world...?

Laito: Exactly. I was watching over you.

I figured you’d come. You can no longer bear being away from me after all.

Yui: ...

Laito: Having trouble proving me wrong because I hit the nail on the head?

Yui: Yup.

Laito: ...Why the haphazard response?

I bet you want to try and defend your case, but you find it too much trouble, don’t you?

Yui: Uu...I-I mean, no matter what kind of response I give, I can’t talk my way out... (2)

Laito: Nfufu~ You seem to know me very well, Bitch-chan.

As to be expected of my Yui-chan~!

Yui: ( ...He seems very happy... )

( I guess I can take this as him genuinely accepting my feelings? )

( In that case, I’m happy too... )

Laito: Bitch-chan, are you listening?

Yui: Ah, yeah. I am.

Laito: Really? I hope soーー

*HOOOOWL*

Laito: Whoops...It’d be troublesome if those Wolves were to show up...

Come on. Let’s go.

Yui: Yeah!

( I really am glad Laito-kun came for me. Now I can rest assured, right? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room of the Sakamaki manor

Yui: ーー Wait...W-Why? We came back.

Laito: Nfu~ Exactly. That was my plan all along after all.

Yui: Is this...okay?

Laito: Hmー Let me think.

What if you’re attacked by those Wolves like Ayato-kun was...?

Laito: Well, I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it...?

Yui: Laito-kun!

Laito: Just kidding~ It was a joke.

But you know, I might just prefer being roughened up by those Wolves over having to stay at that castle.

ーー I’d rather not have to stay there for an extended period of time.

Yui: ...

Laito: Say, you feel the same way, don’t you? Rather than being stuck at that castle crawling with Vampires...

...you’d much rather indulge in some sweet private time with me here, don’t you?

ー He steps closer

Yui: ( He’s trying to beg the question. )

( I guess he really must not want to stay at that castle... )

Right. Let’s do that then?

Laito: Nfu~ You’re good at matching someone’s vibe, aren’t you? I don’t hate that, you know?

*Rustle*

Yui: Laito-kun...

Laito: Yes?

Yui: I like you.

Laito: Fufu... ーー So do I...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: ...

Laito: Yui-chan...

*Rustle*

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s room

Laito: ーー That being said, this place sure has known better times...The whole manor has been turned upside down...

I think Reiji would have a mental breakdown if he saw this. Nfu~

Yui: We have to try and tidy things up step by step, otherwise we won’t be able to properly live here.

Laito: Good point. However, I don’t dislike the thought of living in this mess of a manor.

Yui: Eeh!? W-What makes you say that!?

Laito: Just try imagining it! What it would feel like to ‘have some fun’ (3) in a room which has been turned upside down~

As you find yourself amidst not-so-ideal circumstances, you suddenly experience a strong desire for carnal pleasure and you eagerlyーー

Yui: S-Stop right there! I’ve heard enough!

Laito: Eeh? I was just about to get to the juicy part though?

Yui: M-More importantly, I wonder if those Wolves won’t come here anymore?

Laito: I’m sure we’ll be fine for a while. However, if we stay here too long, they might find us eventually.

Yui: Right...

Laito: So, I had a great idea.

All of the Vampires who live around this area have retreated back to the Demon World.

In other words, their manor is currently uninhabited, right? So why don’t we go live there?

Yui: You mean we could go to the manor of the Mukami’s, for example?

Laito: Nfu~ Exactly!

We stay here for a bit first, then go to the Mukami’s place after. Honestly, I wouldn’t even mind returning to your childhood home for a bit.

Yui: I see...If we go from one place to another, it’d be more difficult for them to track us down.

Laito: I think it’s an almost disgustingly good idea, if I may say so myself.

Yui: However, are we sure we can just invite ourselves in...?

Laito: It kind of gets me all excited! It’s like we’re eloping together. Nfufu~

Yui: ( He’s not listening at all. )

( We don’t know when the Wolves will make their move, so we have to stay on guard as long as we don’t know what exactly they’re after. )

( I can only pray life will be back to normal soon... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) This might just be a stylistic choice, but when Laito says 愛してる or ‘aishiteru’, it isn’t written in kanji as it is in all other routes, but in Katakana. This is quite odd/uncommon because usually Katakana is used for foreign words or words borrowed from another language.

I’m sure there are other people who could do a better analysis of this, but I do think it’s written like this because Laito saying those words is also somewhat surreal in itself? So by writing the word in Katakana, it reflects that sense of ‘strangeness’.

(2) Literally she says that she can’t escape his ‘pace’.

(3) もつれ合う or ‘motsue-au’ literally means ‘to get entangled’. I mostly found it in context of tangled vines, etc. but I think we all know what Laito implies here. :p

<- [ Prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dflaitodarkprolog

74 notes · View notes

jinmukangwrites · 3 years

Text

@damianwayneweek Day 4 (6-16): Reverse batfamily | Hugs | Soulmate

Warnings: Canon typical violence, major injuries, background character death, ✨angst✨

Note: this one ran away from me. It got a mind of its own. If I had more time, this would be so much longer. I've always wanted to write a reverse batfam story with Damian's perspective. Please enjoy.

---

Damian has only spent a month living with his blood father, and he's felt nothing but miserable this entire time. Somehow, life has managed to become even more stressful and exhausting compared to living within the League of Assassins. He... understands why his mother felt he'd be safer here for the time being, but at least, back in Nanda Parbat he knew what he was doing and what the rules were.

He's not sure where he stands with his father. It's obvious that his father doesn't know where he stands with Damian either. Damian, his entire life, had grown up with the knowledge of Bruce Wayne being his father. Batman. Caped Crusader of Gotham. Hero. Bringer of Justice. His mother's dearest, most precious love after Damian himself. She spoke often of him. Highly. Only when alone and no one else to hear them. His father isn't exactly on high standings with his grandfather nor other high ranking members of the League.

Yet, his father knew nothing of him until the day they met. His mother brought him to the streets of Gotham, lured Batman to their location, and introduced them there. His father seemed visibly shocked under that cowl at the information of having a son, yet he didn't question it.

Damian didn't know what to expect after his mother left him for his own safety. He didn't know all too much about culture outside of the League. He was, of course, taught the basics to blend in with American society—as well as other countries—if the need so came, but other than that... He didn't know what to do with himself when he first stepped in the manor to find only one servant and a new home empty of anything to fill his time. The cave where his father operates was locked to him from the get-go.

His father doesn't seem to trust him. He explained the situation to the servant, and then sent Damian off with the servant to find a room with the warning that if Damian "did anything", he'd regret it.

Damian's hardly seen his father since. When he's not working as a CEO, he's out as Batman, and Damian sits in the manor all day and night running out of ways to keep himself entertained.

Sometimes he sees his father at supper, but he doesn't ever start any conversation. Damian doesn't start any either, thinking it's purposeful. He doesn't ask about Damian's stay, or if he's comfortable here, or anything. He doesn't update Damian on any new information about his mother and the league. The only words he speaks to Damian are gruff good nights.

Miserable. It's miserable. He doesn't understand why his mother is so in love with such a miserable man for company.

He doesn't speak up on it, however. If his father is anything like his teachers or his grandfather, questioning him or speaking out of turn will just get him in trouble. He'd like to keep his stay at a tolerable level of misery, thank you very much.

So he doesn't say anything to his father, even though he's itching to go out with him at night to... to do whatever he does. He's seen the television, Superman has a kid fighting with him in Metropolis. Why can't Damian do the same with his father as well? He can wear a mask and change his name. He can easily defend himself, even against this country's love for guns.

He still doesn't say anything, and he spends the days miserable.

-o-o-o-o-

It's the butler, Alfred as he has insisted many times during his stay (Damian humors him by calling him by his first name, being as he's the only one to speak to Damian in this drab house), who suggests school a few months after coming here.

"School," his father says blankly, looking at Alfred like he's lost his mind.

"He's a young, growing boy," Alfred says. "It's not good for the lad to be inside all day like this."

Damian sits at the dining table, stiff like he's stepped on a landmine and is now waiting for it to explode. However, he can't help but look up at his father through his lowered eyebrows to meet his sharp gaze. School... doesn't sound like something that would be any fun, but... but anything to get out of this manor sounds almost heavenly.

His hopes fall when his father shakes his head. "No. It's too dangerous."

And something inside Damian snaps just a little. "Dangerous for who?" He demands, slamming his hands on the table. "For me? Or for the other children?"

His father looks stunned, and Damian's stomach drops as Alfred's eyes widen as well.

He's running out of the dining room before anything else can be said.

He's messed up. He's definitely, royally, messed up.

-o-o-o-o-

Punishment for yelling at his father doesn't come like he expects it to. A week goes by, and there's not a single word of his outburst.

It sets him on edge. It fries his nerves. It makes him jumpy and paranoid and frightened at every shadow.

So much so that he finally decides, one day, to pull the sword hanging above the library entrance off the wall and practice with it. It's heavier than what he's used to back in Nanda Parbat. British history is in the shape of the blade, but he still wields it and practices rusty moves on it until he's sweating in the middle of the library. Usually training makes him feel better, but the more time that passes, the more frustrated he gets.

He gets so frustrated that he imagines enemies surrounding him. He imagines the warmth of blood splattering against his skin as he swings. The taste as it touches his tongue. Their screams of death. He gets so deep in this trance that he doesn't notice he's broken something until the sound of crashing glass reaches his ears; he's swung right through a glass display case, the unprotected remains of a signed classic novel resting inside.

His heart jumps when the door opens to see what the commotion is about, and he drops the sword like it's hot when Alfred is the one to poke his head through.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Alfred gives him a long look, and then he sighs. "Come fetch the broom with me, and we can clean this up."

"Will you tell father?" Damian asks slowly. He can tell it's a loaded question when Alfred pauses and purses his lips.

"Not this time," he says finally, after a few heartbeats. "But I do think it's time I speak with him about some other things. Come along, the quicker we clean this up, the quicker I can get you a cup of tea to stop you from looking like a frightened racoon."

-o-o-o-o-

A few days pass, and his father invites him to follow after dinner. Out of everything Damian expects to come from this, being led into the batcave through a grandfather clock in the study wasn't one of them.

"You can train here," his father said, showing him a massive room in the cave filled to the brim with practice tools of all kinds. Dulled swords, throwing stars, bo-staffs, and straw dummies to name a few. There's locked cases on the far side of the training room, of which Damian suspects are full of much more sharp, dangerous, and fun tools.

No matter. He's already feeling his blood shake with excitement at the thought of finally getting some proper practices again.

"You can come down here only when myself or Alfred are here to supervise you," his father explains. "Nothing here leaves this room, and if anything breaks you tell us immediately."

"Can I start now?" Damian asks, barely managing to hold himself back from running towards the closest, one-handed blade.

His father, surprisingly, nods. "I'm going out, and Alfred will be down to help me with the computer. He will be in charge."

Damian can't stop himself from smiling. Finally there's something to do in this house. Feeling hopeful, he decides to ask one more question.

"Can I go with you? One day?"

Silence is his answer for a few heartbeats, making Damian suddenly fearful that he shouldn't have asked that. Then, his father sighs.

"We will see."

-o-o-o-o-

A few more days pass before they do see. He suspects Alfred must have had another conversation with his father, because he approaches him one night and offers to spar.

It's done in full concentration, not a single word exchanged between the two. Both are too busy studying the other's fighting patterns to say anything.

It's now that Damian realizes what his mother meant whenever she spoke about his father's advanced martial arts. It's brutal and expertly executed. It's only a matter of time before he's pinned. He's disappointed in himself, but not surprised to end up losing.

But not all is lost. He can tell his father is impressed when he releases his pin and tosses Damian a rag to wipe off his sweat.

"We need to talk to Alfred about getting you a suit."

-o-o-o-o-

The suit Alfred makes him is made of the strongest, thinnest material Damian had ever seen. It cannot only be Kevlar, because it would be heavier than this. It must have been created by his father himself, or one of his associates.

Whatever the case, he's in awe by it. Alfred is a master of every craft, it seems. He's managed to create the suit to Damian's submitted designs to the T, only making subtle changes here and there where sketches don't match up with reality.

It's mostly black, because according to his father white isn't a good color to go with in Gotham. It's understandable, as much as Damian dislikes it. He's always liked wearing whites and tans for his outfits, accenting here and there with greens and blues to bring out his eyes. Black is such a boring and dull color, but this, he supposes, he will have to deal with.

And it's not all black, at the least. Just the bits around his shoulders, cape, hood, sides, and legs. On his chest, however, is a splash of dark maroon, as well his boots and gloves. His belt is yellow, like his father's, and filled only with smoke pellets, a grappling gun, and a hanging pair of sticks that triple as escrima, a bo-staff, and nun-chucks. Not his preferred weapon, but his father doesn't seem to be very trustful with him and sharp ones yet.

He goes out into the city, out of the manor, for the first time in what feels like forever. His father keeps a sharp eye on him, reminding him every two seconds to not kill anyone, but Damian doesn't mind too much.

He's just happy to be out, and to finally get glimpses of what his father is truly like outside of the stories of his mother and the silent dinners.

He's ruthless, but not heartless. Strong, but not abusive. He prioritizes justice, above all else, and teaches Damian that even the criminals deserve it. The victims get saved, and his father leaves the criminals to be picked up by the cops to be brought to rehabilitation or wherever else they must go.

Damian's careful to remember these teachings, even though he doesn't understand them. He's been raised to think the only thing bad people deserved was punishment, but after taking down a bank robbery, his father researches the names of the robbers and finds that the bank keeper was blackmailing them to give him money on top of the loans they already had with the bank.

The bank keeper was trying to pay off the gangs to protect the bank from other gangs.

So on and so forth.

Gotham seems to be a big cycle of abuse, with no one willing to end it.

Well, no one besides his father.

It doesn't make sense to Damian why his father would try so hard to stop it, but he can at least respect it.

For now.

-o-o-o-o-

Everything goes almost fine until it doesn't.

For the first time in almost half a year, Damian finds himself separated from his father and Alfred. There's a new big bad in Gotham, a man with half of his face burned off by acid. Two-Face, he calls himself. Harvey Dent, his father informed before he left Damian behind to fight him alone.

"This is personal," he said.

And Damian didn't listen. He wanted to see what a real fight was like in Gotham. These petty bank robberies and classic muggings were getting boring and repetitive. He didn't mean to get so close.

His father was in a standoff with Two-Face, and on a stroke of bad luck one of the goons spotted him watching.

"It's Red Bird!" Shouted the goon. Red Bird is the name Gotham had started to call him by in the papers.

A group of the goons charged after him, the rest kept by Two-Face and his father, sneering as they separated his father from helping with their guns and a baby hostage.

And maybe it was seeing the child in Two-Face's arms that made him see red. Maybe it was the disappointment in himself for being spotted. Maybe it was simply all the pent up frustration that's been building without his knowledge since he's gotten here.

Whatever the case, he fought back a little harder than he meant to. What he was supposed to. He brought most of the goons down to the ground, clutching broken bones and bloodied gashes. His old training kicks in, and he goes to hit one of his opponents in a specific place that would kill them.

"RED BIRD!" His father shouts angrily over the commotion.

And Damian stumbles, stopping in his kill-path. His father sounds disappointed and upset and- and Damian almost disobeyed his orders and his father saw it immediately.

Then, before he can be fearful or horrified or confused, his own skull is hit hard enough that the world fades to black.

He wakes up with his arms tied behind his back and his entire person disarmed. His father stands at a makeshift pair of gallows, another man besides him. Both are hooded.

Two-Face flips his coin and asks Damian heads or tails. He says tails, and saves his father, but the other man hangs.

Then, Two-Face beats Damian with a bat, to the point he can't see straight, and the pain drags him back into unconsciousness. The last thought he has is that he's failed. He's disappointed his father, and he must have disappointed his mother as well if she hasn't come back for him yet.

He's failed.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes in the batcave's med-bay, his entire body numb. He can only lay there with a tube running up his nose and needles in his arm, listening to the machine besides him voice his heartbeat. Vacantly, he can hear arguing voices outside his door, one of a woman he doesn't recognize and the other of his father.

He closes his eyes when the arguing gets too loud, but opens them sometime later when it stops and someone enters the room.

His father stands in the doorway, his face looking more raw and vulnerable than Damian's ever seen it.

"I thought I lost you," is all he says before he runs to the cot and grabs Damian's hand. The one not in a sling, he realizes. He's so numb he didn't even notice he had so many bandages and casts on him.

Not that he focuses on that for long. In fact, all he can focus on is that his father is clutching his hand like a lifeline and whispering over and over how sorry he is.

"I should have been better," his father rambles. "You're not like Jon, you don't have powers. I'm so stupid for letting you out there- I almost got you killed- your mother is going to murder me-"

Damian doesn't even know what to say. He's so flabbergasted by the actions of his father, that he just lays there as his father continues.

"I knew I wasn't cut out for this. I'm not even in my thirties, and I'm a dad. I tried my best to keep you safe, make sure you didn't get yourself into danger- and I fucked it all up. I don't know what I'm doing, Dami. I don't know- I'm sorry-"

And this continues for a little while longer until the door opens again, revealing Alfred and the woman who must have been yelling at his father before. She has gray hair, curled up like a loose afro around her head, revealing her old age. Behind her glasses, her eyes are sad. Together, Alfred and the woman approach the bed, and the woman lays her hand on his father's shoulder.

"We need to check his bandages," she says.

His father nods, wiping quickly under his eyes before he stands up. She gives Alfred a look before she leads Bruce out.

It's only Alfred and Damian for a moment, and Damian releases a breath.

"He's not going to let me out again."

Silence.

Then Alfred comes to his side and looks at the bandages. "I will talk with him. First, let's get you healed up and properly introduce you to Miss Thompkins."

-o-o-o-o-

Red Bird does go out again, once he's healed up. Alfred's talks with his father do wonders, it seems, as life at the manor has gone back to lonely and miserable—what with his father avoiding him at every chance. But he goes out again, swinging into the night with his father silently beside him having just finished retelling him every rule he must follow.

Damian intends to follow them. He doesn't want to lose this. He's come so close to losing this.

He hopes... That maybe... If he follows the rules... Things will start getting better again.

They fight crime like normal, going their normal routes and working silently by each other. By the time it's time to go home, Damian's feeling more alive than he has since Two-Face beat him with the bat.

Before they can return to the manor, however, a familiar signal is lit in the sky by the police department. His father stills and Damian watches him carefully. His father has been careful to keep him out of the business that comes with that signal, even before Two-Face.

His father sighs, then gives Damian a hard look through his cowl.

"Behave," is all he says before they're on their way to the police station.

There's a man on the roof. Commissioner Jim Gordon. He gives his father a greeting, then pauses when Damian steps out besides him.

"Decided to finally introduce us?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "Just when I thought Red Bird was off the streets for good."

Damian bristles, but his father sighs. "What do you need, Commissioner?"

"Apparently a college teacher went insane and poisoned his students with a gas that made them see their deepest fears. Professor Jonathan Crane. It sounds like something you'd handle quicker, and I can get you the files we have on him after you explain to me why you're still letting a child run around in tights. Especially after you told me he was quote un-quote, 'alive but out of commission'."

"I don't see why it's your business," Damian hisses before he can stop himself.

"Red Bird," Batman scolds, and Damian falls quiet.

His father looks at the Commissioner with a hard look. "He's my responsibility, and I will look after him."

"There were rumors he died, Batman," Gordon argues back. "Two-Face bragged about it all the way to Arkham. He had blood on his face."

His father stiffens his jaw, then says through gritted teeth. "I will never allow something like that to happen ever again. If you want my word, I will give it in saying if anyone like Two-Face tries to hurt him like that again, I will make sure they regret the thought before it can happen. Red Bird will continue to be with me where I can watch him, and you will respect that. Trust me, it's safer for all of us this way."

He looks down at Damian, then almost smiles.

"He will sneak out himself anyways, eventually. Or I won't hear the end of it from a mutual acquaintance."

Damian finds himself smiling back. It seems getting on the good side of Alfred was a good decision on his part. And he's right in the former statement as well. Damian is sure he'd eventually get bored enough of being left behind and go out to prove himself without permission. Red Bird... It's too good to give up. He can't lose it.

It's like a staring contest between Gordon and his father for what feels like an entire minute, but eventually Gordon gives up with a sigh.

"Don't know how you do it. The wife's starting to talk about having a kid... I can't imagine a little one of mine running around doing the things I do, let alone what you do."

He brings a cigarette to his mouth, then pulls out a file with his free hand. "Take the case."

Batman steps up to do as was told, but before Gordon let's go, he gives his father a hard look.

"You better keep your word," he growls, "because if anything happens again to that kid, I'm holding you responsible and I'll bring you in for child endangerment myself."

Batman nods. "I'm counting on it."

-o-o-o-o-

Eventually, the topic of school comes up again.

Which of course brings up the topic that no one actually knows about Bruce Wayne's son. Damian's been kept a secret this entire time, unknown to the public.

"We'll tell them that your mother and I met at the end of highschool, and we have kept you a secret ever since. Due to your mother's weakening health, we decided it would be best for your future to have your custody turned over to me and the mother wishes to remain private. Then, we can-"

"Wait," Damian interrupts. "You're going to let me go to school?"

His father pauses in his verbal plans, then nods.

And suddenly, Damians jumping from his chair with joy, wrapping his arms around his father's neck without thinking about it. However, the second he realizes his action, he attempts to scramble away with horror. He's never hugged his father before. But things have been so good, civil even, to the point where they can be in the same room and have conversations about the weather or the recent sports game or even about a new cartoon Damian found on TV.

But they never hugged.

Afraid he's pressed boundaries, he pushes away, but he doesn't go far before a hand wraps around his shoulder. Damians left halfway on his father's lap where he sits, looking at him with anxiety churning in his stomach and an unreadable expression on his father's face.

Then, gently, Damian's pulled back in so now arms are wrapping around his back. His father's hugs are soft and warm, Damians learns. The opposite of how he fights. Yet he feels so safe and protected that he doesn't resist the action.

"This is really happening," his father says in a whisper. "I have a son. I'm really a dad now. I... I promise I will be better for you. From now on. I'm sorry for how I treated you... In the beginning. I was scared. It's no excuse, but I promise you, I will be better."

And he is. They get ice cream after and then watch a movie before going out as Batman and Red Bird.

Time passes so Damian starts school and makes friends. He meets Clark Kent and his son, Jon, and makes a best friend. He grows older, and happier, to the point he no longer misses the League of Assassins. To the point when his mother does finally return to see him, saying the danger has passed...

Damian tells her he wishes to stay with his father. She smiles, and hugs him, and says that she's proud of him. She promises to visit him as often as she can after they share a good cry.

She leaves, and visits, and time moves on a little more.

Until one day, years later, they notice a kid with a camera following them around and taking pictures. Then, the same kid admits to knowing about their civilian identities when confronted.

His father searches the kid up when they get back to the manor, and after some digging it's revealed his name is Tim Drake and his parents are neglectful and strict.

Damian sees the same look in his father's eyes as when he first told the public he had a son named Damian Wayne, and he gets the feeling the manor is about to get a little more crowded.

This, he thinks, is about to get interesting. It's been awhile since life threw a curve ball. He just didn't expect this one to come in the form of a little brother.

And life goes on.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #robin #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #reverse robins #jin writes #fanfiction #violence tw #injuries tw #death mention tw

147 notes · View notes

clouditae · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Confession

Word: 5.7k

You gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him

“You’re really going to do it?” your friend asks, looking at you through the bathroom mirror in shock as you wash your hands. “You’re actually going to confess to one of the most popular students in this school?”

“Don’t scare me. I’ve already told myself six times today that I was going to confess.” You turn off the faucet, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser. “Even if he rejects me and I can never look at him again,” you mumble.

“Y/N,” Aleah begins, blocking your exit from the bathroom with her arms spread out to her sides, “you’re about to confess to Jungkook, the basketball and baseball playing hottie. You understand his ex will not be happy to hear about this since she’s protective of everything.”

You frown. “He’s in basketball?”

Aleah sighs, rolling her eyes as well. “Yes he’s in basketball! How do you not know? You go to his baseball games,” she claims.

“I have NOSB, so I’m usually at the club preparing for the competition,” you disclose, pushing one of her arms down to get past her and out the door.

She groans, “You are such a—are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s now or never,” you whisper. Your friend can only sigh in response, patting your back as the two of you part ways. “See you at lunch,” you call out to her, walking down the hall towards your chemistry class.

You have a test today, but you didn’t study as much as you would have liked since the club leader decided to give you “homework” to do and study for a small competition Friday. You’re stressed to the point where you’re beginning to think gray hairs are appearing. You almost cried when you thought you saw one. Turns out it was the light playing tricks on your eyes.

Entering class you take your seat, setting your bag down and pulling out a pencil. The second the last bell rings, you watch as the instructor passes the test out. You take in a deep breath. There’s nothing else you can do but try your best.

When the test reaches your desk, you immediately begin, surprised that after you finish, you know a lot of it. Some educated guesses seem like they’re the correct answer, but you’ll have to wait and see after it's graded and passed back on Monday. For the remainder of the class you listen to the instructor go over the next lesson on ionic bonding. You listen in silence, jotting down notes as the instructor works on the white board to explain in more detail about her explanation.

“Does anyone know if a cation gains protons to form a positive charge or does it lose electrons?” your instructor asks, a strand of her hair falling from her bun as she pushes it back, eyes scanning the room for raised hands. Looking through your notes, you raise your hand. “Y/N,” she says, giving a nod for you to answer.

“The protons in the nucleus do not change during normal chemical reactions. Only the outer electrons move. Positive charges form when electrons are lost,” you tell her, looking up from your notes to see if you’re right.

“That is correct,” she tells you, smiling as she continues class. So, for the rest of class, you take detailed notes and do a surprisingly good job at distracting yourself from your practiced speech you’re going to tell Jungkook after school.

Jungkook. The popular one in school. Your neighbor since your first year here when you moved to this town for your dad’s job. A few words are exchanged whenever the two of you see one another at home, and a lot of accidental gazes when you two would look out your bedroom window. You just happen to pick the bedroom right across from his.

Jungkook plays sports, is smart in class, has a girlfriend for two years—until they broke up over the summer before school started, and lots of friends. Whenever he walks down the hall, at least half the students say something to him, and he always talks to them like they’re his best friend. You wish you had the guts to try and be his friend, but you’re always afraid.

What if his personality is all a show and he’s a mean person? Well what a great way to figure out by confessing your feelings for him.

You almost bang your head against your desk until you remember where you are. To your luck the bell rings to let you know that class is over and lunch has begun. Packing your belongings, you head out of the class and enter the busy hall. Aleah will be waiting at the usual table, but before you can meet her, you need to put your chemistry textbook away and swap it out for your math book. Turning down a different hall, you notice several people looking at you; some are whispering to one another.

You try your best to ignore them as you reach your locker and put in the combination before exchanging books. Why would they be looking at you and possibly be gossiping? You’re not well known in this school, so why would you be on their minds? Maybe you're overthinking it.

Entering the cafeteria, you stand in line to get your food. You focus your attention on the display of food in front of you, debating on what to ask for when you reach the people standing behind the counter. After getting your food and heading towards the usual table Aleah sits at, you notice her expression.

An expression you don’t like.

“Y/N,” she whispers, as you take a seat across from her. “Everyone knows.”

You frown in confusion. “Know what?”

She looks at you with a sad expression. “People are talking about your crush on Jungkook and the confession you’re going to make after school.”

“What?” you ask in complete disbelief. “How do they know?”

No wonder people are looking at you and whispering to one another. Even now as you glance around the room you can see people looking at you and laughing with one another as they talk in low voices.

“Did you check to see if anyone was in the bathroom when you went in there?” she asks, resting her arms on the table. You can’t meet her eyes at the realization that you didn’t check. You were so nervous at telling Aleah your plan that you just forgot. “Y/N,” she says, tone comforting.

“I’m so stupid, Aleah,” you whimper, keeping your head down.

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. It was just a coincidence that someone was in that bathroom.”

“I heard you’re going to confess to Jungkook,” a voice interrupts. You look up to meet a pair of brown eyes. Golden brown hair, make-up packed on, and the school uniform—slightly unbuttoned and skirt higher than it needs to be. Naeun. Jungkook’s ex. “Well? Is it true?” she asks, tone demanding.

“That’s none of your business,” Aleah tells her, defending you before you can utter a word.

Naeun turns to look at Aleah. “Was I talking to you?” she bellows before turning back to you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N,” she begins, placing her palms on the table and leaning in close towards you, “Jungkook only needs a break from us because he needs to focus on basketball, and that doesn’t mean he’s available to anyone. Got it?” Looking you up and down with a look of disgust, she stalks off.

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. She’s just a bitch who’s sad she’s no longer with Jungkook,” Aleah tells you, but you can already feel it. “Oh, Y/N, don’t cry.” She reaches across the table and takes your hand in hers. “I’m gonna beat her ass—” A sudden loud bang makes you both jump. You look to see your best friend staring behind you in shock. “Holy shit,” she whispers.

Turning around, you see two people on the floor throwing fists at one another. A crowd begins to gather, but Aleah seems to be quicker as she pulls you to your feet and drags you towards the fight. After she pushes her way through, you get a clear view of the two. You watch as Jungkook pins down the captain of the football team and punches him in the face. Bringing his fist back, Jungkook lands another hit before he is thrown off by the man beneath him.

“I can’t believe Jungkook is fighting Aaron. They’ve been friends for years,” Aleah mumbles in confusion. “What could have happened?”

You watch as Aaron gets a few hits in before he is pulled away by security. Another appears at Jungkook’s side, holding him back from lunging at his friend. “Everybody disperse,” a loud voice booms, making you jump again. The dean walks to the center of the crowd, eyes glaring at everyone. “If you are not back to your tables and eating lunch by the time I count to three I will start giving out detention. One!” That is all everyone needs before the group breaks up and runs back to their tables.

You follow Aleah back to yours. “Man, that was scary as hell,” she tells you, shaking her head as she sits back down.

“I’ve never heard of Jungkook fighting with anyone before. He’s always friendly with everyone.”

“Tell me about it.” Aleah takes a bite of her food. “At least we know he can fight. Did you see how bad Aaron looked? Jungkook was nowhere near that,” she laughs.

“Still he could get into a lot of trouble and he may get suspended from school,” you worry, glancing at the hall through the open doors where Jungkook was taken down.

Suddenly you feel a splash of some sort of liquid whip across your face. You shut your eyes, feeling the sting as a familiar voice speaks up, “This is all your fault.”

“What the fuck, Naeun?” you can hear Aleah speak.

You’re not listening to their argument as you rub yours eyes. You’re just grateful that she threw water and not something else that can hurt. “It’s her fault that Jungkook got into a fight. This bitch deserves more than what I gave her,” Naeun finishes.

Rubbing your eyes, you watch her walk back to her laughing table. You can hear Aleah talking to you, but you’re so pent-up in your anger you don’t listen to her as you grab your plate full of your mashed potatoes with gravy and storm towards her. No one stops you. No one does anything as you grab her by the shoulder, spin her around, and smash the paper plate on her face, some of the food flying from the impact.

Watching the plate slide off her face, the ringing in your ears has finally stopped and you stand in a room filled with shocked eyes and silence. Naeun wipes the food from her eyes and you realize you’ve never seen someone look as pissed off as she does. “You’re fucking dead,” she says, ready to lunge but stops short at the deans voice.

The two of you turn to see him standing at the doorway. “Y/N, my office. Naeun, clean yourself up and come to my office.” It’s then you can feel your heart drop and the fear kick in. You’re in so much trouble.

“Here, Y/N.” You turn to see Aleah handing you your bag. “That was fucking awesome by the way. Text me later.”

Taking your bag from your friend, you follow the dean with heavy strides. You’ve never been in trouble before. What exactly happens when people get into trouble? Does he yell? You’re sensitive. You’ll cry if he yells at you. Hell, you’re already on the verge of crying.

Entering the office, he points to the line of chairs outside his door. You do as you’re told and sit down. You’re trying your hardest not to cry in front of the receptionist at the desk, but you can already feel your body shaking and your eyes going blurry. You look down, pretending to fix something on your somewhat wet skirt. You don’t realize how wet your hair and shirt are until droplets begin to fall from the ends of your hair.

Everything is a big mess, and so the tears begin to fall. Some fall on your hand while some roll down your cheeks. You sniffle as you quickly wipe at your warm cheeks. A pair of shoes come into your line of sight followed by a towel draping over your head. You look up to see Jungkook kneeling down to meet you at an almost eye level.

There’s a Band-Aid above his left eyebrow, his left eye slightly purple. Other than that, he looks the same to you. His hair is a mess from probably running his hands through it out of frustration. After developing a crush, and having him in a few classes, you couldn’t help but notice the little things.

“For you to dry yourself,” he says, gesturing to the towel on top of your head.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking just a bit. You begin to dry your hair, wiping at your tears as well.

“I’m sorry about Naeun,” he tells you, giving an apologetic smile.

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault.”

“In a way it is. Even though we aren’t together, every person she hurts is my fault because we’re not together…” he trails off. “If that makes sense.”

“Jungkook. I thought I told you not to leave until I say so.” Looking behind him, you see the school nurse standing in the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance.

Jungkook sighs. “Guess that’s my que to leave,” he mumbles, looking back to meet your eyes. “Can I walk you home after school?”

You can feel your heart racing. “I may not be here after school. He might throw—I mean kick me out before then,” you tell him, fumbling over your words a bit.

He smiles. A smile that makes him scrunch his nose and remind you of a small animal. “I don’t think he’ll do that. If I can get off with a warning, then I’m positive you’ll get off with one, too.”

“Jungkook!” the nurse yells.

“I’ll see you after school.” He gets up to his feet and follows the nurse back down the hall. He turns around, walking backwards as he cups his hands around his mouth. “At your locker,” he calls, grinning and waving at you before turning back and around and following the nurse out of sight.

You can’t help but smile, cheeks turning pink and a flutter in your stomach. You feel more at ease by his words. Maybe you won’t get into trouble, but it seems the dean caught you in the act of smashing food in her face. Just you pulling an act.

So, you wait and wait. Five minutes turns to forty and still no sign of the dean coming out of his office. Even as Naeun comes in ready to pounce you, the dean does not call either of you in for another hour. Every now and then you’ll glance in Naeun’s direction from across the room, but you always look away when you realize she’s glaring at you.

“Naeun,” the dean says. You look up and watch him gesture with his finger for her to follow. Naeun gets up from her seat and follows him inside his office, the door closing.

And so again, you wait. You glance at the clock, watching as time ticks closer and closer to the last bell. Will he ever call you to discuss your punishment? It’s giving you anxiety as time ticks on.

Finally, to your relief and fear, Naeun storms out of the room, not even looking at you as she leaves the building. You look to his office door, watching him step out and look down towards you. "Come in," he addresses, walking back into his office. You get up, feeling your legs shake and hands clutching the towel as you enter the room.

You've been in his office numerous times, but never for getting in trouble. You're usually in here with questions about the club competition and the funding to get there, but never to get yelled at. You can feel yourself on the verge of crying again, but you blink them back, not wanting to look like a child in front of the one who can expel you.

"Take a seat Y/N," he says, taking a seat at his chair behind his desk. You immediately sit down, watching him as he picks up a light brown file folder from his desk. Opening it, his eyes scan whatever is in that folder. "I am quite surprised by what I saw earlier today," he states, not even looking up at you.

"I am so sorry, Sir," you croak. "I-I don't know what came over me—I just lost it. She threw water at me and started telling me it's my fault, and I just couldn't take it—but that doesn't excuse my behavior." You’re a babbling mess.

"I saw everything, Y/N. I know what happened." He finally looks up to meet your blurred eyes. "Jungkook told me to stay behind "just in case" as he put it, and I was surprised to see that he was correct." He closes the folder, leaning back in his seat. "I'm not going to suspend you or put you in detention. I'm just going to ask you to not do that again. You're a good student and I don't want you to ruin your chances of going to the competition in February. So"—he clears his throat, leaning forward and interlocks his fingers together on his desk—"I'm going to let you off with a warning, okay?"

You nod vigorously. "I promise I'll never do anything to end up in this situation again." The dean nods, shooing you off with his hand. You get up, thanking him like your life depends on it as you leave his office. When you’re out of the room, you feel so relieved and so exhausted from trying not to cry.

How was Jungkook able to guess that you wouldn't get into trouble? You'll have to thank him when school—

Right on cue the bell rings, indicating that school is over. You grab your bag from the chair where you left it on, draping it over your head and telling the woman behind the receptionist desk goodbye. You walk out the door and into the hall filled with students eager to get out of the building and home. Making your way towards your locker, feeling excited to see Jungkook standing there, you’re trying your best not to run.

You don't get that far when you are stopped by your best friend. "How did it go?" she asks, pulling you to the side to avoid the busy hall. “Are you suspended?”

You shake your head, feeling the biggest smile grow on your face. "I got off with a warning."

"That's great because do I have news for you," she says, looking around. She turns to you and tells you in a low voice, "I was told that the reason Jungkook got into a fight with Aaron was because Aaron was making fun of you and your confession you planned on doing. Jungkook just... jumped him."

"Really?" you ask, voice loud and completely shocked.

"Shh! Yes!"

"I can't believe he'd do that. He could have gotten in so much trouble," you say more to yourself than to her.

"He didn't get in trouble?" Aleah questions, shock written all over her face.

"Yeah. He got off with a warning like I did," you tell her.

"Holy fuck," she laughs. "So, the only two that got suspended were Naeun and Aaron."

“Wait, they got suspended, but Jungkook and I didn’t?”

“Hilarious right?” Aleah laughs as if she told you the funniest joke she has ever heard. You’ve never seen her laugh so hard to the point where tears begin to form and fall. You shake your head in defeat. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t tell me you don’t find this funny,” she argues, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t have time to laugh. Although I don’t get why Aaron was suspended when Jungkook was the one who initiated the fight,” you wonder. A group of laughing teenagers walk by as Aleah shakes her head.

“I was told he already did things that were just piling up because he’s the captain of the football team.” Aleah shrugs, gaze wandering off to the crowd walking past. Some towards the exit while others head towards their clubs or to practice. “It’s stupid that they took so long to suspend him, but are you ready to go?” she asks, turning towards you.

The two of you usually go to the park and hang out for a while before going home. You two either gossip or do homework that one of your instructors gave you. You’re always there for each other. Whether it be in friendship or in homework, you always help one another out. Today, however, you’re not going to follow her to the park. You feel bad, but knowing her, she’ll be pushing you towards your locker.

"I can't today," you tell her, feeling giddy.

"Why?"

You took in a deep, shaky breath. "Jungkook asked to walk me home." You watch as her eyes go wide. "He's waiting for me at my locker," you finish.

Just as you predicted, Aleah is pushing you in the direction of your locker. "Well don't keep him waiting! Hurry up and go!" You laugh, walking on your own. "If he does anything to you that you don't like, let me know and I'll go kick his ass okay?" she yells.

You turn around to look at her encouraging smile. "I'll let you know the second I'm home what happened!" you call back, waving to her before turning back around and making your way towards your locker.

Reaching your hall, it’s empty except for Jungkook. You can see him leaning against the lockers, looking down at his shoes as he kicks imaginary dust. You can't help but imagine what it would be like if he were to wait for you every day to walk you home. Like he’s your boyfriend. Holding your hand, listening to you talk about your classes, as you listen to him about his practices—you’d even wait for him after practice when you didn't have your club meeting. He’ll smile at you with that scrunch he does with his nose, give you a kiss on your cheek, and eventually your lips.

You shake your head of those thoughts, ignoring the racing of your heart as you make your way down the hall towards him. When you’re close enough, he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles and you swear you see the light around him shine brighter. "Did you get in trouble?" he asks.

"Ah, n-no. I got off with a warning like you said I would."

He smiles even brighter. How is that even possible? "Told you," he begins, pushing off the locker, "You had nothing to worry about."

"But you did," you counter, remembering what Aleah told you. "You could have gotten suspended for starting a fight."

"But I got a warning," he returns.

"You didn't have to do that for me. All people do is talk, but never do anything," you exclaim, shifting from one foot to the other.

"But I didn't like the way he was talking about you," he speaks under his breath, but you hear him, and you’re at a loss for words on how to respond to that. You've never had anyone defend you the way he did. You want to hug him. "Shall we head home?" He takes a step forward, looking at you to see if you'll follow. You quickly do, walking alongside him as the two of you head towards the door that leads to the front of the school.

The walk is silent, neither of you saying anything to one another. It's not that you don’t mind. You enjoy the feeling of walking beside him. Just knowing that you can walk with him just this once is enough for you. Even if he rejects you because Jungkook is the nicest person you have ever met. He always treats you like everyone else. He's never rude and always says hello when the two of you see one another at home or even at school.

"So, um," he begins, clearing his throat, "I heard about the rumors..."

Your heart stops. Hell, even you stop in your tracks. You’re not ready for his response. "I'm sorry," you sputter. "You can just ignore everything that you heard. It—it was..." What can you think of as an excuse? You were so confident in telling him your feelings, but now that you're standing in front of him with him asking you about it, you lost your nerve. All your confidence is gone.

"Oh," he says, looking a bit disappointed. Did he want to hear it from you?

He says nothing else as he continues to walk ahead. You jog to catch up. What do you say? What are you supposed to do? It seems like you ruined the entire walk because you were going to confess to him. You want to hit yourself.

For the rest of the walk you glance at him to see what sort of expression he has, but you can't read him. You have no idea what he’s thinking and all it does is make you more nervous. Eventually, your house comes into view and you still have no answer. Just a feeling of frustration for yourself. You reach your house first, the two of you stopping at the walkway leading towards your front door.

"Thank you," you tell him, looking anywhere but at him.

"It's no problem. We live next door."

You shake your head. "No," you begin, gathering the courage to meet his eyes, "Thank you for defending me. No one has ever done that for me—well, except for Aleah, but no one has ever gotten into a fight for me."

Jungkook shrugs. "Well, Aaron is an ass, and he shouldn't be talking bad about someone he doesn't know."

You nod in understanding. "I appreciate it and I'm sorry you got hurt in the process." Silence follows after. The two of you seem to have nothing else to say. "Well, I should go in." You gesture to your house with your thumb. Walking up the walkway you tell him, "Bye." He waves as you turn your back to him, glancing at your windows to see if your parents are watching. Thankfully no one is peeking through the curtains.

"What if," he calls. You turn back around to see him still standing in the same spot. "What if"—he whispers to himself—"I want to hear the rumors." He takes in a deep breath. "From you."

"W-what do you mean?" you stutter.

Jungkook glances at your house behind you before walking up to you. "What if I want to hear what you have to say?" He looks down. "Will you tell me?"

You feel like you’re going to throw up. What is happening? He wants to hear your confession? What could that mean?

You're a mess. You're a huge mess.

What surprises you and him is when you say, "I like you." Oh God. You want to run in the house and hide forever. You're never going to go to school again. You're going to move countries—

"Me too."

You look back up to meet his eyes, blinking a few times. "What?"

You can see his eyes widen in shock, as if he just realized what he said. "I-I said I like you, too."

"Really?" He nods. "When?"

"Since you moved next door." He scratches the back of his neck, clearly unsure as to what to do, but you're just as lost as he is. "What about you?" he suddenly questions.

"Same," you reply.

He giggles and you swear your heart is going to explode. "I didn't know you liked me. If I did, I wouldn't have stuck with Naeun for so long. When I heard the rumor, I never felt so happy," he confesses.

"I didn't think you'd like me back," you admit. Why are you acting like this was a casual conversation?

"That's crazy. You're smart, beautiful, funny, the sweetest person I've ever met. Your smile is contagious." You can feel the heat on your cheeks, and it seems Jungkook notices it, too. "Come to my game Friday?"

You want to say 'yes', but instead you say, "I have a club meeting. We usually don't finish until nine."

He hums in response. "Your NOSB club meeting?" You’re shocked that he knoww but you nod in response. "I understand. You have a competition to win, so study hard okay?" You nod again, completely baffled that he knows what club you’re in. He nods as well, glancing at your house once more. “I should go,” he tells you. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” You really wish you can do anything but nod. Sadly that is all you do seeing as your voice is betraying you. Smiling, Jungkook leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek to give you a quick kiss.

You’re frozen in place, watching him quickly head towards his house, not even glancing at you. Touching the spot where his lips once were, you can’t contain the smile spreading as you head inside. Wait till you tell Aleah.

“What do underwater earthquakes, landslides, volcanic eruptions, or explosions generate?” Macy, the club leader, questions.

Jiyeon, standing at the opposite side of the room to be your opponent answers, “Whirlpools.”

Macy shakes her head. “That is incorrect.” She turns to look at you. “Y/N you get to answer.”

You think back to your study notes. “Tsunamis,” you answer.

“Correct!” Macy says with a proud tone in her voice.

Your club is currently split into two groups, practicing for the competition. You just got your team in the lead as you go to sit down and watch another member go up to the podium to answer the following question. You’re trying your best to focus on the questions, but your eyes keep glancing at the clock above the whiteboard and thoughts go back to the kiss and Jungkook admitting to having the same feelings as you. It’s like a dream come true. Never in a million years would you expect Jungkook to feel the same way, but he does and you are jovial. All you want to do is go to him, see him smile at you, hold your hand, hug you, and so much more.

“Correct,” Macy yells, bringing you back to the room. She collects the flashcards she used for questions from the desk she sits at. “Well we went past our usual time,” she announces, getting up from the desk. “Make sure you get home safely if you’re not going to take the bus.”

You glance at the clock one last time seeing that it is 9:05. You look up estimated times as to how long games are, and there is a slight possibility that the game may be playing still. You grab your belongings, casually waving bye and making your way out the door. The second you hear the door close, you sprint down the hall. The basketball game is on the other side of the school, so you’ll have to run the entire way just to try and make it to what's left of the game or to an empty court.

You run as fast and as hard as you can, legs burning, air coming out in short and desperate breaths. Rounding the corner, you almost slip but manage to regain your balance and continue to run. To your surprise you can hear the crowd cheering from the closed doors at the end of the hall. That means the game is still playing. Pulling open one of the doors you walk in until you’re standing next to the bleachers, a clear view of the game. Jungkook stands in the center of the court, yelling at his teammates. Within the crowd of moving players, the ball is passed to Jungkook. He glances around in front of him, seeming to look around for an opening. He mutters to himself before staring ahead and jumping up, tossing the ball.

You watch the ball fly across the court, hitting the rim once, twice—swish! The crowd erupts in cheers, the team members surrounding Jungkook as he yells in victory, fist in the air. You clap along with the crowd as some go to the center of the court and others leaving, talking about the game. You've never seen a basketball game, but from the way everyone is cheering so loudly you would have loved to have gone to one of his games; sit in the crowd, cheer when shots are made and boo when the opposing team does something. You don't know a lot about basketball, but you're willing to learn for him.

Jungkook's eyes meet yours from within the huge group surrounding him. He smiles brightly at you and your breath catches in your throat. He pushes his way through, jogging up to you. "You made it!" He’s sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead.

You exhale, "I didn't make it in time. I just saw the last shot, but I missed everything else. I'm sorry—" You’re cut off by his lips meeting yours. You feel yourself melting as you close your eyes, feeling his soft lips move against yours before pulling away.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that," he whispers against your lips. It seems as though he doesn't want to stop, even as he apologizes. You cup his cheeks, pressing your lips against his once more. It’s like a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the sound of the cheering people disappearing, and all there is in this building is you and him. He pulls away again, this time further but not far enough as you feel his breath against your lips as he asks, "Would you like to go on a date?"

You open your eyes to meet his. Smiling, you tell him, “Yes.”

#btsgoldnet #thebtswritersclub #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #btswritersguild #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook au

282 notes · View notes

emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

Shadowsinger -Part 19

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

*****

With Azriel double checking their plans to get into the Mortal Palace, Gwyn was free to help Nesta and Emerie in designing a training program for the Illyrian females. Most of them had clipped wings, only the youngest did not, so any training would be land-based, and there wasn't enough time for aerial combat for those who could fly anyway. Gwyn hadn't even considered them being on the front lines, but they could perhaps form an auxiliary force, the last line to break, the surprise that the rebels weren't expecting. Still, not everyone wanted to train, and not all of them could bear to fight, not when they might face fathers, husbands, brothers, sons on the other side of the battlefield. Even those who could not, or would not, fight could still be helpful though. It had been Emerie who had suggested that Madja and Velaris' healers run some medical training for those who preferred to help in that way. Nesta's eyes had darkened with rage at the thought of the grievous injuries that would undoubtedly be sustained when the fighting broke out, and Gwyn threw an arm over her shoulders, knowing that she was recalling Cassian's injuries from the last war.

"The most important thing will be on the battlefield," Gwyn mused, "The issue with our healers is that they are based at camps, so casualties can't reach them. If we can get a group of medics on the battlefield, at least trained to defend themselves if necessary, but with the key skills to keep casualties alive until they can be seen by a healer, we'll be in a much better position. Especially if those medics are female, they'll be ignored and overlooked." Nesta nodded her agreement, and Emerie suggested a few females that she knew who might be interested in such a role.

"Every Illyrian female knows some basic healing skills, but nothing that would work on a battlefield, we'll have to get word out quickly, and hope that the males don't object." Nesta grinned,

"Oh, they won't object, not if I personally send out invitations to classes. They think I'm a witch, and they're scared shitless of me, my presence on a battlefield might hopefully convince the rebels to think twice, although, perhaps not, if they're willing to rebel against their High Lord and Lady."

"Oh they'll definitely think twice about fighting you, sweetheart," Cassian chuckled, starling all females as he strode through the open door and kissed the top of Nesta's head, she shrugged,

"I'll just have to make them think that I'll cast a spell to cut their balls off," Cassian laughed again,

"Such a beautiful, violent female," he murmured, casting his gaze across the training plans,

"Any changes you suggest?" Gwyn asked, keen to break up the way both Nesta and Cassian had looked at each other just then,

"It's pretty good, but I'd focus a little more on hand-to-hand combat, we don't have time to fully build up to swords, perhaps fighting knives would be better. They're lighter, and females are smaller, quicker, lighter than males, knives would allow them to use that to their advantage in a fight, even against a male wielding a broadsword." Gwyn noted down Cassian's suggestions, leaving the final decisions to Nesta and Emerie, it would be them, after all, who oversaw the training, Gwyn would be working with Azriel to remain one step ahead of the rebels, and the queens.

Gwyn noted the room slowly filling up, but it didn't bother her, it didn't bother her that with Amren was that dark-skinned male whom she hardly knew. She merely acknowledged his presence with a nod, her attention fixed on finishing her portion of the the plans, leaning back in her chair, and stretching. Azriel was the last to arrive, automatically making his way across to Gwyn and resting a hand on the back of her chair. She tipped her head sideways to slightly touch that hand. Azriel would never be one for public affection like Cassian and Nesta, but, like Cassian, he needed that contact, needed the contact he had been denied for so long to remind himself that she didn't hate him, that she loved him, that he was worthy of her love, had always been. Even Amren had stifled a smile at Gwyn's subtle display of affection, and Theia was practically beaming with joy at the way Azriel had relaxed at Gwyn's touch, the tension in his muscles releasing before he spoke,

"Gwyn and I have finalized a way into the Mortal Palace. We will have to go alone, and ordinarily, I wouldn't even suggest bringing her at this point in her training, but she has contacts within, and outside the Palace. She is our way in, and our way to send reports back here. We'll spell the reports, but only to one person, I can't work a spell more complicated than that." He looked to Rhys and Feyre, "Who do want me to spell it to?" Feyre shuffled in her seat,

"Rhys." Rhys made to complain, but Feyre raised a hand, "He has more experience, and will know the key things to look for, especially with reports from you, you know each other's way of working better than me, I'm still learning how to be High Lady. And," she added with a sigh, "I have to feed Nyx several times every night, I'm tired, I might miss something." Rhys sighed but nodded,

"Spell the reports to me then. When can you expect to get in?"

"We'll leave tomorrow," Gwyn answered, "There's only a few final preparations needed, Azriel can winnow us onto the continent, but we'll have to travel the rest of the way on foot, by air it'll be too visible, and to winnow any closer might set off wards, besides, some of my friends live a few miles out. We should be able to get into the Palace within a week, unless we come across something unaccounted for, I'd expect the first update about a week after that, give or take." Azriel nodded,

"I'll only be wearing two siphons most of the time, and we won't be in full armor, the aim is to get in disguised as a rebel warrior and his wife." He paused for a moment, and Gwyn nodded, encouraging him to continue after a moment's hesitation. "Gwyn will be noticed at once as out of place," Azriel turned to Rhys, "Can you glamour her to appear Illyrian? You only need to give her wings." Still, wings were the most difficult part of that request, if he couldn't make a glamour look realistic, Gwyn had already agreed to allow them to attempt to shift her into an Illyrian body. Rhys pursed his lips,

"I can try, but I don't know if I'l be able to make them move naturally if I'm not there, the innate magic may not be enough." Gwyn knew that, but she still asked him to try, and closed her eyes at the touch of night-flecked power on her. "Just move about a bit, Gwyn, let me see if it works without me actively moving it around." She got up, walked a couple of laps on the room, threw a couple of punches at the air, turned around quickly, but her face fell at the silence around her,

"It's not working is it?"

"No, I'm sorry," Rhys muttered, "The only other way would be to shift your body into that of an Illyrian. I can definitely do that, and then reverse it when you're back, but it would involve me changing your body." He said carefully, slowly gauging her reaction

"I know." Gwyn said, her chin held high as the glamour lifted, "Az already warned me, and it's okay. I trust him, and everyone in this room," there was a moment of surprise in Rhys' eyes as he glanced towards Varian, "Even him. He has been nothing but kind and respectful, and he has already earned all of your trust, I would be foolish not to trust him as well, if all of you do, he must have proved himself several times."

"That he has," Rhys mused, and offered Feyre a questioning glance, falling silent for a moment before Feyre broke the silence,

"We think it'll be better if I do this, I have more experience with different types of shifting, and I have shifted myself into an Illyrian form many times. I've also seen, and felt the magic's imprint, when Tamlin shifted others into different forms, Rhys has only ever shifted himself into his beast form. Gwyn nodded, altogether more comfortable with Feyre's magic, as a female, it somehow felt familiar, less alien and frightening. "This will probably tingle a bit and feel odd, but it won't hurt." Gwyn mentally braced herself, almost flinching at the tingle in her shoulders, then expanding across her whole body. She opened her eyes once the tingling had faded, she felt the same, but the moment she moved something felt wrong, different. Her balance was off, something pulling her backwards. She flexed her shoulders, and a whoosh of air alerted her to the wings now flaring out behind her. She flinched at the sound of breaking china,

"Sorry," she muttered, and wriggled the wings around a bit before figuring out how to close them. The one thing that she had expected to bother her didn't, the weight of the wings was less than she'd thought it would be, and her training had built up her muscles so that she could carry them easily without worrying about dragging them on the floor.

"You could fly if you wanted to," Feyre said, "I've made them look clipped as that's what would make sense, but the tendons and muscles beneath are normal, and I don't expect there'll be much time for you to learn to fly anyway, but in an emergency you will be able to." Gwyn nodded, "You should get used to moving around with them, and fighting, it feels a bit different to usual, your center of balance is shifted backwards, so it just takes a bit of getting used to."

"I'm sure it will, we have until lunch tomorrow to get ready, so hopefully I'll be re-balanced by then. It should definitely be before we reach the Palace at any rate."

*****

Gwyn had adjusted to the wings remarkably quickly, the walk to the training ring seeming to be long enough for her to figure out how her balance needed to shift. She warmed up normally, albeit a little slower than usual, but she didn't seem to have any issues, not ones that she needed Azriel's help with anyway.

"Okay, just practice unfolding and folding your wings for now, we can do something more once you're comfortable with that." Gwyn nodded, and flared out her wings, faster than before, and stumbled backwards, Azriel stifled a chuckle at her surprise, but she folded them in, then out again, and kept her balance. She kept going until she could do it while walking around, sitting down, drawing a weapon. She cursed Azriel's name soundly when he made her practice doing it while running and drawing a weapon at the same time, a wooden practice sword. Gwyn had questioned what the point was in using a practice sword, but as she clipped the corner of a wing and tripped up, rolling to regain her feet she just glared at him. "Go again," he chuckled, "Any child can do this,"

"Any child can do this," she mimicked, glaring at him, and he laughed,

"I do not sound like that," She just huffed, but did as she was told, falling several more times before she fixed her timing and drew the sword from a sheath at her side consistently without falling. The moment she was confident with that, Azriel switched the sheath to one down her spine. She could do it standing still on the first try, but the moment she started moving, her wings moved a bit, and she kept hitting them, sending her sprawling onto the floor. She groaned, but kept getting back up, slapping away Azriel's hand when he extended it, a multitude of profanities falling from her lips each time. He could barely hold back his laughter at the sight of Gwyn, usually so balanced and elegant, falling on her ass, and swearing enough to put even Cassian to shame. Still, a beautiful rosy blush was now staining her cheeks, and she was panting slightly in the sun's punishing heat. "One more." He called, and Gwyn flipped him off before taking off at a sprint, and whooping in delight when she drew her sword without incident, looking back at him and grinning with undisguised joy. "Take a break."

"No. I want to fight," she complained,

"Break. Once we start combat training we'll go until you're ready to drop, break. Now." He left no room for argument, but Gwyn still rolled her eyes as she nudged past him to get to the water he'd brought out. She'd made a hundred such gestures, but each time he couldn't help the rush of delight that washed over him that she was able to be this comfortable whilst alone with a male, let alone that male being him. She was still experimenting with the position of her wings, but stopped when she noticed Azriel's attention, muttering something about overbearing busybodies before practically bouncing up to him and demanding that they move on to combat. Azriel couldn't help but match her energy, not as she grinned and almost danced on the spot when he agreed, but he did make her walk through her patterns first, demonstrating them so that she could see what he did with his wings. He did warn her not to think too much about them though, with the muscles at the base, they would re-balance subconsciously, even though she hadn't been born with them.

As with almost everything he had ever thrown at her, Gwyn took back to fighting with surprising ease, enough that he was confident to agree to spar at the end of their training session. He moved a little slower than usual, his blows lighter than usual, giving Gwyn a little extra time to balance to parry each blow and then retaliate. She, however, did not hold back, and at times it felt like she was trying to knock Azriel's head off, and very nearly succeeded at one point, with Azriel only just dodging the blow and ducking under her blade to force her to turn. As she spun round, the momentum forced her wings out, and she struggled to balance, flaring them out further, and Azriel yelped when she smacked him across the face, having failed to step far enough back. Gwyn froze at the sound, finally regaining her balance and whirled to find Azriel taking a few steps back to a healthy distance,

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She rushed towards him, and pulled his face down, inspecting the slightly reddened skin of his cheek, and tutted to herself, "Sorry," she whispered again, and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, "There. That's better," she said, "I think we'd better call it a day there, I'm getting tired, so I'll just end up doing that again otherwise." Azriel nodded, then gently caught her wrist, turning her back towards him,

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just, I don't know," she shrugged, "I'm fine though, I'm fine," he raised an eyebrow at that, she seemed to be convincing herself more than him,

"Pre-mission nerves?"

"I guess," she sighed, "I'll be fine once we've got there."

"I want to show you something, how I always got over it." Gwyn smirked at that,

"And what would that be?"

"Hold on," that was the only warning Gwyn got before he scooped her up and launched upwards, leaving her screaming and throwing her arms around his neck. Azriel flapped again, rising up and up and up, until Velaris was just a mosaic of lights below them, he leveled out and Gwyn whooped in delight, before smacking him on the arm,

"Asshole!" She hissed, but Azriel just chuckled and pretended to drop her, making her squeal again, and cling on to him tighter, burying her face in his neck, "I hate you," she mumbled, but still relaxed into him, and pressed another kiss against the cheek her wing had smacked,

"Really hold on now," Azriel murmured, this time waiting until she was clinging on before offering her a cocky smirk, and falling out of the sky. A scream tore from Gwyn's throat as they fell, tumbling through the air, his wings blowing up around them as the wind rushed past, whipping Azriel's hair around his face. Quickly Gwyn's screams turned into shouts and whoops of delight, the wind tearing her hair out of her braid, sending it flying out behind her, and Azriel laughed, truly laughed, pulling her in for a kiss. He clutched her tighter against his chest, flipping over so that he could see the ground, and Gwyn screamed again as it approached,

"Pull up!" She screamed, "We're going to crash!"

"Trust me," Azriel murmured in her ear, and she trembled at his voice, almost imperceptibly arching into him at that little reminder of last night. She buried her face in Azriel's neck again, not even opening them at the rush of wind as he flapped hard, mere feet from the ground just outside the city. He circled lazily upwards, cruising over the city, and Gwyn finally opened her eyes, and smiled,

"Can we do that again?" Azriel grinned,

"Going to keep your eyes open this time, Valkyrie?"

"Going to try and kill me again, Shadowsinger?"

"Never," he murmured, but gave no warning before folding his wings in again and plummeting towards the earth, holding Gwyn so that the wind rippled against her own newly formed wings. The look of wonder on her face as she felt the wind was unrivaled in beauty, and Azriel clutched her hands, "Do you trust me?"

"Always," she hesitated only a heartbeat before taking his hands and turning onto her belly, holding Azriel's hands in front of her,

"Wings out," she did as he said, and he did so at the same time, the wind slowing as it caught their wings. Azriel angled towards an updraft, and Gwyn laughed with joy as she was pushed up in the air, with her wings automatically catching the breeze. She whooped again, and let Azriel guide her through Velaris' winds and currents, leaving them both wind-chilled but laughing uncontrollably when he pulled her into his chest and dove through their bedroom window. "Nest step, flying on your own." He whispered, and Gwyn shook her head disbelievingly,

"That's a big step."

"Need me to hold your hand?" Azriel teased, and Gwyn's competitive gleam reappeared in her eyes,

"I'll be flying better than you in no time." She declared, sweeping off to the bathroom before he could respond. He chuckled to himself, still staring after the female who had made him open his heart to the world, who had seen the shadows and the person he sometimes had to be and had decided to love all of him, flaws and all. It made his heart ache with love, greater than he'd ever felt, he didn't need a mating bond, he didn't need what Rhys and Cassian had, he just needed her. He just needed Gwyn.

#fanfiction #fanfic #azriel x gwyn #Azriel #Azwyn #Gwyn #gwynriel #Gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames

31 notes · View notes

ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 5

Chapter Selection

It was radio silent for the next few weeks. Hotch barely reached out which honestly I expected. He had other things to worry about like his son and how the situation was going to play out. Based on the last time I spoke to him, Hayley wanted to try and work things out.

If Hotch had texted me I would've gone wherever he wanted me to. I wanted to help him but I guess everything happens for a reason. I had to think about school, what classes I was going to take and now that I was a senior starting October I needed to think about the FBI.

I was sitting on the couch watching tv when Chloe came inside the room.

"Look who I found", I glanced over my shoulder and Chloe held out her phone.

It was Hayley and she was with her boy toy, "She's still seeing him? Hotch told me she wanted to work things out."

Chloe shrugged her shoulders, "Guess not." What was Hayley expecting, that he was gonna let her back in and she was just going to hurt him again.

The thought brought a bad taste to my mouth, not in the mood to watch tv anymore I turned it off. I stood up and went into my room, grabbing my keys and walking out the front door. I just needed to drive, try and turn my brain off for a moment.

Again why I cared so much about a problem that's not even mine, I don't know. I wasn't with Hayley, she didn't cheat on me; it was Hotch. But for some reason I took it personally, maybe it was because of Jack? That now she didn't have time for him?

How she dropped her son off at her sisters so she can fuck someone else.

Maybe it was just the fact that I clearly cared for Hotch and Hayley hurt him? I was driving for one reason only, to turn my brain off and I was doing the exact opposite. I needed something to keep my mind busy, I called Andrew.

"You want to get some food?", I said to Andrew. "Alright, let me get ready.", I ended the call.

What we would even talk about I'm not sure, we weren't the closest. He was probably just going because I offered. I drove down the road and turned into Andrews apartment. I honked the horn twice. Then I saw Andrew shuffle down the stairs.

He opened the car door and climbed in, "Hey." I lifted some of my fingers off the steering wheel, like a wave. He caught notice of how quiet I was being halfway through the drive. "You okay?", I snapped my head to the side looking at him.

"What? Yeah I'm fine, I just feel like my mind is in overdrive right now." He clicked his tongue and leaned his head back against the seat. "You know there's a few ways to fix that problem." He looked at me.

I swear this man is so fucking dumb. "I'm not having sex with you", he cracked a smile and put up his hands, defending himself. "I didn't say that."

"It's what you meant." Putting his hands down and unbuckling his seat belt he got out of the car. "You're not wrong", we both started laughing at the thought. Andrew has had a crush on me since freshman year and it's something he still hasn't gotten over.

We walked up to the restaurant, going inside. We walked over to a table close to the window. Picking up the menus we started looking at the options although I already knew what I wanted. "What're you getting?", Andrew said setting down his menu.

"I'm like a five year old remember", he opened his mouth and signed. "Forgot about that, so the chicken tenders." I nodded enthusiastically, smiling.

The waiter came over and took our orders. "Why'd you really ask me here?", I furrowed my brows. "What do you mean?"

"Y/n I've known you for a few years and let's just say... you don't hang out with people unless they ask you first. Honestly I think this is the first time you've invited me out in 3 years. So tell me what's going on." I let out a sigh, dipping my head down a bit.

"Remember Hayley?", he nodded. "Yeah so I caught her having sex with another guy and I called Hotch to his house so he could see it for himself and I don't know I feel guilty."

"Why?", I shrugged my shoulders. I truly didn't know the reason.

"Because h- he didn't deserve it. How would you feel if your fucking kids babysitter told you that your wife was having an affair. Not just that but then called you to the house and you saw first hand your wife kissing another man. He probably feels like utter shit and-."

His full attention was on me, he was listening to every word; letting me rant and get the feeling out there. He knew that I didn't do it often. I would usually just bury it down and hope it never came back out.

The food was brought out and we ate it quickly now just in the mood to knock out again. We didn't during the car ride. I dropped Andrew off at home and he thanked me for the food. I pulled away from his apartment wanting to get home.

My phone was connected to the aux, and I got a call. I take a second to look at my phone and answer the call. I sat there for a moment, waiting for the other person to start.

"Hey", I said hesitantly. He didn't say anything, Hotch was thinking how it was stupid to call and that I didn't really care. "How are you?", he still hadn't said anything so I tried to steer the conversation.

"I'm good, I know I haven't really been in touch, I didn't wanna rely on you to help me get over this. Lately It's just been difficult. I feel like I need things to be somewhat normal for once."

I understood where he was coming from. Things were just falling apart for him, he used to keep in touch now he seems more detached. Like he was keeping things at arms length.

"Okay... how can I help."

He waited some time to answer, I was still trying to process what he told me just a few seconds ago. "Can you come over, I just need someone here I can actually trust." I turned the car around and headed for Hotch's house.

"Okay", I said probably quicker than I should have but I tried to make it seem like I wasn't too eager. He said okay then ended the call. I was stuck in my head yet again thinking about what he was expecting us to do when I got there.

Did he want sex? Was just going to use me... why the hell am I thinking this, he isn't like that.

I pulled up in his driveway and walked up to his door. Knocking a few times and he opened the door. I was slightly awkward, the thoughts from the car followed me in the house.

We both walked over to the couch, "What'd you need?" We sat on opposite ends, I think he just needed comfort but I wasn't sure. "I don't know honestly", I didn't know what to do, hug him? He was like me in that aspect. I know he has other people to go to for this, like Rossi.

Hotch didn't know what to do with his feelings, he's so used to hiding them away that when he can't anymore he doesn't know what to do with them. "Where's Jack?"

"With Jessica", he replied almost instantly. "It's getting late", I said standing up. Again I don't even know why I actually came over here.

"Don't leave. I'm sorry I don-." I sat back down and went closer to him almost right next to him.

"I haven't personally experienced this so I'm not going to lie, I have zero clue how you feel right now. Obviously this is taking a toll on you." Hotch let out a quiet 'yeah' and put his head down. I wrapped my arm around his back putting my head on his shoulder.

I felt him glance down at me and he moved his arm, it rested on my hip. He leaned back and I picked up my legs, curling up next to him. Sleep started to tug at me and while I drifted off I was in my thoughts.

What am I doing? Why the hell did I put myself in this situation? Nothing's going to happen... not that I'd oppose if anything did.

This is what he needs. Knowing him he didn't tell anyone about the separation. If he didn't I was the only person to really know about it.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron #hotch #SSA HOTCHNER #Thomas Gibson #hotchner #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #Criminal Minds

64 notes · View notes

sunflowerandco · 3 years

Text

Act VI: Looking Back

Rating: T for language

previous acts on the link in my bio :)

Hey everyone. After my favorite combo meal of some good ol' depression™ and school, I'm back to writing! I really hope you enjoy and I'm very thankful for all of the support if you stuck around this long. Thank you so much ❤

I hope you enjoy this origin story for Duncney in this universe

5 years before Act V

Bridgette approached a very focused Courtney in the hall. "Hey, Court. Got any plans this weekend?"

She responded, her face still buried in the locker she was trying to organize before heading home for the weekend. "Studying, studying, and more studying. I've got two AP exams in two weeks and my livelihood depends on me getting good enough grades."

"Is there any chance you have one day to let yourself have some fun?"

Courtney pondered and knew her response wouldn't please her friend. Still, she delivered it with a smile. "No." She knew Bridgette's campaign for fun was coming any second now as she shut her locker.

“You’ve been studying all week, Courtney. Come to Wasaga with us! My step-dad lent me the beach house for the weekend.”

Courtney felt apprehensive at the idea of a day on the beach with Bridgette, Geoff and their insistent need to suck face most of the time. “No thanks. I don’t want to be your third wheel.”

“You won’t be! It won’t be just me and Geoff. He practically invited our lunch period. Plus, Duncan’s coming...”

“And that holds significance to my decision because...?”

“...Because you like him.”

“I do not! He’s annoying, has no regard for authority, and is so, totally gross. I don’t need you setting up dates for me. At least not another disaster like Bradley.”

“To be fair, you did have a crush on him.”

“That was before I knew he was a total jerk.”

“What matters is that you gave him a chance. Why not give Duncan one? I've seen the way you look at him.” Courtney gave her look, signaling her to quiet down in front of everyone else occupying the halls. Bridgette smiled triumphantly and shrugged her shoulders matter-of-factly, finally getting through to Courtney.

"See? I'm never wrong." Bridgette walked off presumably to find Geoff. "I'll pick you up at two."

"I didn't say yes!"

"Love you, too!"

***

Courtney could deal with sweaty teenagers in a crowded setting. She could deal with speakers blaring in her ears. But, she couldn't stand to see Bradley's face across the room before running to Bridgette.

"Why is Bradley here?!"

"I don't know! I know for a fact Geoff didn't invite him. He was the only person off limits."

She knew she'd have to spend the better half of her day avoiding Bradley.

Courtney stood in front of the bathroom mirror of the beach house, washing her hands and reapplying her lip balm. For one thing, she had to hide from the guy she wasted a month of her life on. On the other hand, she couldn't find him. Not that she cared. Oh, no, no, no. Not Courtney. She didn't come to this outing hoping she'd find him. And she would never admit that even to herself.

When she exited the washroom, she bumped into a brown-haired, blue polo-wearing dudebro practically standing in front of the door.

"Hey, Courtney. You know you can't avoid me forever."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"Listen, I just wanted to talk."

"In order for that to happen, there'd have to be something to talk about."

"Well, there is. I want to start all over. You and me. I've got drafts coming up for university football. Having a girl on my arm would help with my image and, well, I figured you could benefit changing that uptight, boring image everyone has on you."

Courtney scoffed, feigning interest. "Wow. While that sounds incredibly tempting-" Courtney started off with sarcasm.

Bradley wasn't the most receptive to rejection, but still persisted. "I knew you'd see it my way. It would help the both of us."

Courtney rolled her eyes at his insistent need to cut her off at every chance she had to speak. Her eyes diverted from his and her eyes gravitated to the neon green hair she spotted across the room. He hadn't noticed her stare, but seeing him made a sense calm take over her mind.

"...I'm gonna have to pass. Don't come up to me again wasting my time. I don’t need to associate myself with an asshole like you."

She finally felt like he would leave her alone for the remainder of senior year after letting him hear it. Courtney knew that wasn't the answer he wanted from his displeased layer of expression on his face. She held her hand out with a smile.

"Pleasure doing business with you." He begrudgingly shook her hand to save face from possible onlookers.

***

Duncan, Geoff, and DJ were all engrossed in conversation when Duncan's attention rerouted in Courtney's direction. DJ's voice faded slowly out of the forefront. "...All I'm saying is if dude didn't want his underwear up the flagpole, he should stop leaving it around the locker room!"

"What is he doing here?" Duncan was covertly protective over Courtney in the aspect of terrible ex-boyfriends. His reaction to seeing her shake hands with him made Geoff and DJ turn in that direction.

"I don't know, man. I swear I didn't invite that joke. It seems like they're making up, so that's good." The can Duncan held warped in shape as his grip tightened.

It was no secret how Duncan felt about Bradley. He had to spend two months convincing people that pantsing him, throwing eggs at his car and TP'ing his house were all in the name of fun and not some way of avenging Courtney.

He didn't mean to avoid her after the fact, but it made controlling his emotions easier.

***

Courtney, fresh off of telling Bradley off, finally felt she was able to enjoy herself for the day. As the day transitioned into a darker, breezy evening, her introverted nature dwindled as she allowed herself to let go. Catching up with acquaintances from various classes, taking in the ocean views, and the overall atmosphere made her feel recharged in a rare feat. Still, it was hard to find Duncan while sticking to Bridgette's side. She'd hate to verbally admit she missed trading meaningless quips with him, and it was out of the ordinary for them to be in the same setting without exchanging any words. She separated from her friend when she wandered around several spaces of the house. Then, she heard him.

He was projecting his conversation loud enough for onlookers to hear what he said. "It's actually sad how many times and ways I had to reject that girl. Even today I had to tell her to stay away from me. I mean, why would I want to associate with her?" A few laughs could be heard from the same acquaintances she caught up with at his declarations of rejection all created by him.

Duncan decided he'd heard enough and approached him. "You better watch you say around here. Courtney's not around to defend herself, and I'm known for not using my words to solve problems."

"Oh? Is that bitch your piece of ass for the week?" Bradley immediately felt threatened at how much Duncan was fuming at him. Duncan swung a fist, but he moved out of the way quick enough to dodge the attack.

Geoff immediately came between the two of them to settle the tension. "Just get out of here, dude."

***

She heard every word of it. She didn't want to defend herself for once. Her mind just kept repeating to itself. You need to get out. She sat on the sand with her knees pulled to her chest. Courtney felt Duncan sit next to her without a greeting. She still spoke lowly to fill the silence between them. "What gives him the right to think he can do and say whatever he pleases like that?!"

"You're right. Let me let him have it, Princess."

"No, it's not worth it. He's not, at the very least. And you need to stop getting into trouble all the time."

At the time, Duncan's need for revenge couldn't be subdued. He'd let it go for now, but his mind wouldn't rest until he felt justice was served on that rich, entitled fuck. "It's not like anyone cares if I do. Everyone just wants to police me-"

"I do." She immediately retreated to the ocean's view after she blurted those two words out pretty angrily.

A silent moment passed between the two of them. His brain felt like mush hearing that and seeing the bright reflection of the moon on her skin. All of his previous thoughts were clouded leaving one subject clear. He quietly said the first thing that came to his mind. "You look beautiful."

Courtney had gotten used to Duncan calling her nicknames. They were mostly delivered backhanded in response to her insults. This time it was unprovoked. It blurred the lines between real and fake. She decided not to respond and change the subject instead. She crossed her arms in defense of the drop in temperature. "I want nothing more than to leave this stupid place."

"Here." He said as he peeled the t-shirt off his back. Courtney truly didn't mean to stare as the fabric became less and less attached to his torso. He handed it to her after noticing she shivered when the wind picked up speed. She looked away quicker than she wanted him to notice.

"As if I need another reason for people to look at me weirdly."

He knew she just reacted the way they're expected to treat each other, but it still upset him for reasons he couldn't decipher fast enough. She immediately noticed his face fall, instantly regretting her delivery. "I didn't really mean that. Thank you." She smoothed out the wrinkles after letting the shirt fall over her body.

He couldn't stay mad at her for long, especially when her regret was so apparent on her face. Duncan considered the embarrassment she faced, and figured she was trying to regain some normalcy in their relationship. "Don't worry about it. Let me take you home."

Courtney didn't object, following him through the sandy plains to his car. After finding a tank top in the trunk, he slipped it over his upper half. Duncan opened the door on the passenger side for Courtney to enter. Moments that didn't include bickering scared Courtney. it was an occurrence that gave her mind the opportunity to wonder what a prolonged version of this happenstance would result in. Her feelings floating to the surface of her deeply buried psyche.

***

He didn't mean to drive in radio silence, but Duncan was more nervous than he'd like to admit. He almost ran a red light when he noticed the newly-acquired tan the sun gave her soft, warm skin as she crossed her legs in the passenger seat. He slammed on the brakes just in time, still startling her. "Duncan! I didn't accept your offer with the expectation of dying in your car!" It wasn't the greatest question, but he was relieved she opened a window of conversation to flow between them.

"What was your expectation, then, Princess?"

"Delinquent-proof driving!"

"You know it wouldn't kill you to be...nice?"

"And ruin the amazing dynamic of our relationship? I wouldn't dare!"

"I don't want anything to be 'ruined' either. Nothing will stop me from annoying you, no matter what happens between us."

Courtney relinquished in relief. She then remembered the very moment her fear took over. Acknowledging it meant accepting the affect his words had on her. Accepting those indulgent stares and rare, shared smiles. Despite her fears, she asked. "If you don't want anything to change, why did you call me beautiful the way you did?"

Surprised by the indicative effect of his words, Duncan responded as if the answer were so obvious, still attentive to the road ahead of him. "Because you are...? Nothing's gonna change because of that. I've always thought you were. I'll stop if you want me to."

Courtney felt her heart triple in size when she boldly responded, letting herself say whatever her heart told her to. "Don't... stop?" She stammered, even changed the pace of her words as she fought off her nervousness. "I... don't want you to stop."

"Okay, beautiful." Courtney's chest radiated with warm waves as she looked out the window. She looked in the opposite direction and noticed one of his hands resting in the space between their seats. Her mind and heart wrestled back and forth between doing what truly called to her. To shut them up, she turned her attention to the road ahead. And, like some gravitational pull, her hand made it's way toward his free one. A swipe of the back of each other's hands was enough to: burn beneath the surface of their skin; Duncan immediately caught on to her intentions. He tried to stay focused on the road as they fumbled, palm to palm, and slowly interlocked their fingers with the other's one-by-one. The silence after realizing how perfectly they fit was easy, comfortable, yet deafening.

At a red light, Duncan used the hand on the steering wheel to turn the radio to any random station he saved. Neither of them knew the song, but wouldn't forget any lyric of it after this.

You can't stop us on the road to freedom

You can't stop us 'cause our eyes can see

Men with insight, men in granite

Knights in armor intent on chivalry

She's as sweet as Tupelo honey

She's an angel of the first degree

***

When he pulled up to her street and their hands pulled apart, Courtney felt hollow. Duncan's mind conjured ways to make the moment last longer. "I'll walk you to your door." Courtney didn't object once more, smiling at his reciprocated persistence.

"Okay." The path, while short and forward in leading them to the door, gave them time before the eventual goodbye they dreaded. Courtney fumbled with her keys hoping to buy more time. Fleeting, fickle, borrowed time for a moment they used to curse themselves for dreaming of. He initiated.

"So... see you on Monday?"

"Of course. Um...thanks. For everything."

"It's no problem, Courtney. Goodnight." He leaned in and Courtney's breathing wavered. Duncan gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Courtney's hand rose to her face in an attempt to calm the burning sensation he left. This would suffice for what he really wanted to do. If he was right about the impact he assumed he had, he was doing the right thing for now.

Courtney hated to see him walk further from her and toward the car. In some entranced state, her hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him in closer.

Maybe she leaned in the wrong way; she over-estimated the distance between them as their noses collided with each other's causing them to both groan in pain. Her ache quickly shifted to embarrassment as she hastily spilled out her rambled apologies. "I'm so-so sorry! Oh my God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Her rambling ceased when Duncan pulled her in once again, his lips crashing onto hers with a yearning force. Her lips quickly overlapped his as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair, her arms linking around his neck. They parted for air but remained still with their hands attached to the other.

He'd never done something so worth it, unaware of the events to come.

#duncney #td duncan #td courtney #duncney fanfic

33 notes · View notes

harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

Tarnished

Summary: draco x little miss perfect slytherin!reader where they constantly argue because he is always trying to get under her buttons and one day snape decided he’s had enough so they both get detention. of course, the reader is now even more mad at draco since her “perfect” reputation is now “tarnished”. things get a lil steamy during detention once snape steps out

Warnings: maybe one swear word

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: i hope you’re all staying safe right now and i’m sending you all my love. xoxox (Gif is from google)

Although double Potions was usually quite enjoyable on your end, the migraine that was throbbing away under your skull was currently telling you today was not going to be as good. The dark corridors of the dungeons were helping the pain in your eyes, but the laughter and constant chatter that greeted you once your entered the class made you grimace.

You sat in your usual seat at the front of the class, taking your Potions book out and patiently awaiting Professor Snape to get on with the lesson so you could leave sooner. You loved your classes, but today was just not going to be your day.

A group of rowdy Slytherins led by Malfoy stormed into the room, laughing loudly and flicking paper balls at innocent students. You ducked your head down, hoping to stay out of sight until Snape arrived. Which thankfully, didn’t take long.

“Good afternoon, Professor Snape,” you smiled kindly, almost missing the very faint, forced smile he shot back at you.

“Good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N.”

As the class became quiet, Snape began to instruct the class on what was going to happen in the lesson. You opened your book to the instructions for a Draught of Peace and looked over the ingredients briefly.

Seemed simple enough. You only hoped you’d be able to complete the potion quickly enough and could head to the hospital wing with intention of curing your blasting headache.

“Before you all get rushing around, I will be assigning partners,” Snape’s cold voice made you shut your book hastily.

Partners? Great.

“Finnigan, with Marshall. Johnson, you’re with Keagen,” Snape started reading names off of the list in front of him, and you could only pray you got a decent partner.

“Crabbe and Parkinson,” he read aloud. You rolled your eyes as you heard the two share a dramatic high five.

“Y/L/N, you’re with Malfoy,” Snape read, and you swore you could practically feel yourself failing the assignment already. Of all people, why Draco Malfoy? The platinum headed idiot was nowhere near as good at potions as he should be. Besides, he was way too focused on his stupid ego to even try.

Lord have Mercy.

“Well, what are you all waiting around for? Get moving,” Snape snapped, causing the class to stand up and find their partners. You, however, didn’t have to get up because Malfoy slid quickly into the seat next to you, an arrogant smirk on his face.

“You seem to know your way around a potion so I’m not worried,” he said cooly, leaning back in his chair.

You forced a smile, “As long as you cooperate, we’ll be fine.”

You figured it was no use snapping at him. If you ticked him off he’d make this class living hell, and that was the last thing you needed. You stood up quickly and walked over to the cabinet, grabbing the necessary ingredients in a little basket before walking back to your desk.

A thick, black cauldron now sat on top of it. You placed the basket down to prepare everything you needed.

“Can you crush up this moonstone, please?” you handed over the stone to Malfoy, who reluctantly stood up from his chair.

“Fine,” he muttered, “Don’t know why you’re taking this so seriously. This class is stupid anyways.”

You bit your lip, picking up the unicorn horn and beginning to slowly grate it, making sure that it was the perfect consistency.

“It’s not stupid,” you replied calmly, not facing him, “Potions are extremely useful. You never know when you’ll end up needing one, it’s good to pay attention to every part.”

Malfoy smirked, “Snape isn’t standing behind you, Y/N. You don’t need to kiss his ass.”

You dropped the unicorn horn, eyes bulging out of your head as you snapped your head up to face him, “What? I am not — that’s not—,”

“Relax,” he held up his hands in fake defence, chuckling lightly, “Take a joke.”

You let out a huff of annoyance, looking back down to the unicorn horn and letting your hair fall into your face to hide the pink on your cheeks. You knew Malfoy’s talent was getting under people’s skin but you weren’t about to let him do that to you.

“Just powder the moonstone, Malfoy,” you muttered as you started working on the unicorn horn once more.

After you poured the unicorn horn into the boiling water, you turned to check on Malfoy’s work, only to find he hadn’t even touched the moonstone. You could feel the anger bubbling inside of you.

“Why haven’t you crushed the stone?” you asked, placing your hands on your hips, “You can’t just sit around and let me do all the work.”

“Why not?” he crossed his arms, a challenging expression on his face, “You seem to know what you’re doing, miss Goody Two Shoes.”

“First off, don’t call me that,” you spoke through gritted teeth, trying not to catch the attention of fellow students, “There is nothing wrong with being good at learning. Secondly, this is a group project, in case your thick head hasn’t noticed. So, do your part, partner.”

He squinted at you, “A little bit more fiesty when you’re ticked off, aren’t you?”

You took a deep breath, turning over to grab the porcupine quills in the basket, “Just crush the moonstone, it’s not that hard.”

He let out a chuckle, picking up the moonstone and holding it between his two fingers as if he were analyzing it. You wanted to question what he was doing, but you also wanted to avoid any and all conversation from this moment forward, so you didn’t.

“Fine, I’ll powder your stupid rock,” he placed it back down on the chopping board and did as he was told, grunting every now and then when things weren’t working.

When you completed with your porcupine quills, you put them into the cauldron and he did the same with the moonstone, the two of you continuing to work in silence. Until, of course, he decided he had something else to say.

“Your nose gets scrunched up when you concentrate, you know,” he said calmly. You snapped your head up from the page you were double checking the instructions off of and stared at him blankly.

“And you’re pointing it out why?” you raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the strange fuzzy feeling that erupted in your stomach when he said it.

He shrugged, “No reason.” He began stirring the contents of the pot, ignoring how you were still looking at him, eyes a little wider than usual and your cheeks feeling a little warmer.

“Just stir the pot,” you grumbled, noticing how Snape was walking over to your desk to check out your potion.

“Yes, ma’am,” Malfoy grumbled right back, forcing a fake smile when Snape stopped in front of the two of you.

“Your potion looks acceptable,” Snape spoke cooly, looking down into the cauldron through the strands of black hair hanging in his vision, his expression unreadable as usual.

“Thank you, Professor,” you grinned, “I actually thought about grinding the porcupine quills smaller than usual, they dissolve quicker and the effect is still the same. I read about it in The Secrets to Succeeding in Potion Making.”

Snape turned to face you, squinting, “Although I usually discourage... risk-taking and experimenting in my classroom, I must admit myself impressed.”

You were positively beaming. It was rare Snape gave out compliments, and any time you got one, it rang through your head the entire day.

“Thank you,” you said again, “I’ve always wanted to make a Draught of Peace.”

Malfoy was looking back and forth between you and Snape, looking slightly disgusted. But, you brushed it off and smiled at the professor once more as he moved on to the group behind you, who had clearly done something wrong as their potion was bubbling a neon orange.

“That was quite possibly the worst case of sucking up I have ever seen,” Malfoy let out a low whistle, wiping the proud smile off your face.

“It’s not sucking up,” you defended yourself, not feeling like it was worth it but your stubbornness feeling otherwise, “I’m just genuinely interested in learning about potion making.”

He rolled his eyes, “Of course.”

You scowled at him, not thinking he was worth your effort, and turned back to face the potion, which was now the exact colour it was meant to be.

“Class dismissed, when we return next class you will be back in the same pairs and we will go through the step by step instructions and what many, many of you did wrong,” Snape addressed the class grimly, his lip curled in a disappointed frown.

You looked around, noticing students who were rolling their eyes and grimacing at their incorrect potions. Yours was pretty damn perfect, if you did say so yourself.

“Guess we’re back together next class, huh?” Malfoy smirked, “Great.”

You picked up your books and parchment, clutching them to your chest, “If you keep your mouth shut, it will go just fine.”

You stuck your nose in the air once more, walked out the class, and marched down the busy corridors to Transfiguration. You picked a seat next to a quiet looking Ravenclaw girl, hoping to avoid Malfoy’s commentary, and prepared yourself for another class.

— —

“We failed? But how?” you felt your heart sink to your stomach as you looked at the large F sitting on the paper with yours and Malfoy’s names. How could you have failed? You guys had done the potion perfectly, Snape even said he was impressed with your tactics. It didn’t make sense.

“Relax, Y/N,” Malfoy shrugged carelessly, “It’s not my first failure. It doesn’t actually affect you as much as you’d think.”

“No! I’m not going to relax! Professor Snape said he was impressed!” you groaned, slamming the paper down on the table, more frustrated than you cared to admit. Malfoy would think you were a fool if he knew how much that F had gotten under your skin.

You had never failed anything before, how could you have failed this? There had to be some sort of twisted, wrong explanation for this.

Before Malfoy could stop you, your hand shot straight up into the air, “Professor Snape!”

Snape, who was in the middle of handing back another grade, walked over to your desk with the permanent scowl still on his face.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” he spoke slowly, eyebrow raised.

“I was just wondering why I — I mean, why we — failed,” you corrected yourself, eyeing Malfoy quickly before facing Snape once again, trying to be polite but also wanting answers.

“Because, Miss Y/L/N, and Mister Malfoy, you had placed the ingredients in the wrong order, therefore the porcupine quills did not blend with your moonstone the way it was intended,” he spoke cooly, “After class was dismissed, your potion turned a vulgar shade of green.”

You nodded sadly, watching him walk away with a swoosh of his robes. You sat down, a sunken expression on your face. You couldn’t believe you let Malfoy’s annoying-ness get under your skin to the point where you hadn’t even paid attention to the order of inserting the ingredients.

You felt like a total fool. Sinking back into your chair, a pout was now formed on your lips. You were devastated. How could you have been so distracted?

“It’s not a huge deal,” Malfoy faced you, clearly confused as to why this was bothering you so much.

“You don’t get it!” you snapped, “I have never failed — ever. This is my first failure and it was your fault. You couldn’t just grind your stupid moonstone and get on with the task, could you? Maybe we’d have been able to follow instructions better!”

He seemed taken aback by your outburst. You had even noticed a few students around you turn to face you guys, evesdropping to see what the fuss was about.

“Wait, you’re blaming me?” he asked, placing a hand on his chest, “You’re the one who had the instructions! You’re the one who was paying attention to every tiny detail. Don’t blame this on me. This is on you.”

You could feel the fumes bubbling under your skin, “Me? No, this isn’t on me. If it weren’t for me, you’d have killed yourself with that potion!”

By now, the entire class was looking over. And to your extreme misfortune, so was Snape.

“Miss Y/L/N, I am very disappointed in your outburst,” he spoke loudly, a hint of loathing in his voice, “Detention. Both of you. My office, tonight at eight.”

You sat down, defeated, letting a harsh sigh leave your lips. Detention. Your first failure and your first detention in the same day. You were so disappointed in yourself.

“Detention?” you mumbled quietly, looking down at your feet, “I’ve sunk low.”

“Yeah, you have,” Malfoy spoke up, his irritating voice making you clench your hands into fists one more, “Can’t wait to share detention with the lamest person in school.”

You scoffed, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms, “I am not lame.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

— —

As eight o’clock rolled around, you found yourself sitting in Snape’s office, deadly silent, with Malfoy sitting by your side. He was dressed casually, the first time you had actually seen him without his robes, and he looked quite awake for this late in the evening.

“See here?” Snape finally spoke up, pointing to the shelves behind him where all his ingredients were stored, “I need you to organize them and make a list of how much of everything remains in my inventory.”

“How would you like the list organized, sir?” you asked softly, looking over at the messy shelves, dreading how long this was going to take. There were a lot of jars. Some even had what looked like body parts in them. Hearts, eyes, hair. It was pretty disgusting.

“Does it matter?” Malfoy asked, “Just write it all down. Not everything has to be in a perfect little list with a bow on top.”

You bit your tongue, holding back a snide remark as Snape rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with your childish bickering.

“Just do what I’ve asked and you can leave,” Snape said once more before turning around slowly and leaving his office, going god knows where at this hour. Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure what your teachers got up to once school hours were over.

Did they all hang out? Did they sleep in the same quarters? Do they huddle around the fireplace and chat?

It was kind of weird thinking about your teachers’ personal lives.

“Hello?” Malfoy snapped, causing you to blink rapidly as you returned to the present moment, “I’m not doing this by myself.”

You glared at him, “You weren’t this rude in class, what changed?”

As you turned to the shelf behind you, noticing that the four bottles with hair in them were labeled the same thing, you put them into a little line so they were all together and easily accessible.

“Things changed once you were rude to me. Also, you got us detention. Couldn’t keep your temper under control, could you?” he replied without even looking over. You were about to reach for a tiny bottle of green bubbles, but his statement made you retract your hand and turn to face him.

“It’s not my fault I was rude,” you replied as he turned to face you, “You’re practically insufferable. You’ve been worshiped by your gang of cronies and now you go around thinking you’re some sort of royalty, it’s rather annoying, I must say. I don’t stand for people who better themselves.” Although you had never actually spoken back to him with such honesty to your words before, something about telling him off made you feel good.

He smirked at you — which was the last reaction you were expecting — and walked towards you slowly. Up until the point where your back was up against the shelves, but he didn’t slow down. Eventually, he stopped in front of you, his hands against the wooden shelves on either side of your head, and his face closer to you than it’s ever been.

You had never noticed the freckles on his cheekbones, or the scar he had above his lip. Or even the way there was a speck of green in his right eye. Or how being so close to him made your breath catch and your heart race.

Wait — what were you thinking?

“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” his smirk was still evident, but the only thing you could focus on was the proximity of your bodies. If Snape were to walk in...

“You’re — uh — I don’t—,” you couldn’t find the words to say as he looked from your eyes to your lips. You had never been in a position like this with anyone before. It felt so intimate, so personal.

“You know, I gotta say I find you quite endearing,” he said softly, eyes staring into yours with such intensity your knees were weak. What the hell was going on?

“You — you do?” you found yourself questioning, suddenly very aware that you had no idea what to do with your hands. Do you put them down?

You settled on crossing them across your chest, almost as if challenging Malfoy.

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, “You’ve got this innocent, know-it-all air about you. And I can’t help but feel weirdly drawn to you. Not that I mind, of course. You’re lucky you’re gorgeous.” Heat rose to your cheeks and you knew he was loving it.

“You find me gorgeous?” you smiled lightly, trying to distract him from teasing your blush.

He grinned, “Course I do. Infuriating as hell, but gorgeous.” You lost all self control, and without thinking, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down so his lips crashed against yours.

He wasted no time in responding, placing his hands gently around your waist and pulling your body flush against his, his lips moving slowly yet forcefully against your own. He was surpringly passionate for someone who seemed to have such a hard edge.

You felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip before clashing with yours, the pure feeling of bliss and energy moulding between the two of you. It was as if ice and fire had met, and the result was calmness and passion.

“Draco—,” his lips moved away from your lips and down to your jaw, and even lower to your neck. He left soft kisses all the way down to your collarbone, leaving you with goosebumps all over your body. He was surprisingly really good at this. Even you had to admit you were enjoying this.

He reluctantly pulled away from you, his lips a dark shade of red and his hair a little wild. It was quite possibly the hottest he’s ever looked.

“Don’t let this change anything, I still find you a pain in the ass,” you mumbled as you raised your hand to fix your hair, hoping no one would notice that you had gotten busy with Malfoy in Snape’s office of all places.

“Right back at you, darling,” he winked at you, causing your heart to flutter, “Shall we get back to work?”

—

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy reader insert

448 notes · View notes

needingtobeheard · 2 years

Text

Held Together by Inertia

I came across one of those auto-generated “A Look Back” photo albums while looking for a picture. The cover is of my dad seven years younger and beaming, holding his newborn niece.

I feel indifferent.

Less than indifferent. I feel nothing.

My brow furrows. I'm getting impatient with myself because I know if I take a moment extra thinking about him, just a beat, I'll notice that I feel annoyed. Annoyed with myself because how dare I let that man take up more than nothing of me.

Impatient with myself because of course he takes up more than nothing.

He's the one who would poke and prod, calling me "too fat for a 12 year old" in the basement of our old home with Hooyo looking on, silent. The reason I would eat one meal a day in grade 7. The reason I felt proud when someone would tell me how much smaller you’ve gotten! how bony! look at those wrists! the collarbone!

(The reason I've eaten one meal in the past 4 days. Subsisting on mint gum and cold water and work and school and reading and sleep and)

The one who told me "drop out of university. work in a factory. i never cared for school. i worked my whole youth. you want to be a doctor? well you can't afford it" after asking him for $100 for the months bus fare.

(The reason I haven't gone back to do my masters. Can't think too long about it. Struggling and saving to ensure the youngest don't end up in debt to pay for university.)

The one who told me "daughters aren't meant to like their fathers. fathers and sons are the ones who are meant to get along best."

(The reason I worked so hard, spent so many hours, days, years talking in circles circles circles. Trying to get us to agree on one thing. Anything)

The one who made Hooyo feel small. Made me feel small. Taught me that marriage is a fight over money, the loyalty of children. Not a partnership but a competition at the expense of peace.

(The reason I don’t think I could ever get married. Could never see myself sharing my life, my vulnerabilities, my time, my mind, my space with another forever. Could never imagine the courage it would take)

The one who made everything and anything related to family seem like a chore. Unreliable, untrustworthy, uncompassionate.

(The reason I end up taking all the burdens, worries, and stresses. Hoarding them for myself. Choking on the running to-do list that comes with a family of five. Unable to trust others to do what I can clearly do faster, quicker, with less complaint)

Sometimes I think about what it might have been like. Having a father who cared and was interested beyond the easy parts. One that wasn’t so stingy and was emotionally intelligent. Treated his kids and wife like they were a responsibility rather than a chore dealt with begrudgingly and only when necessary.

Would Hooyo be happy? Would I have grown up less worried every time he was alone with the younger ones? Would I be more open to the people around me more willing to cry in front of them and tell them why I’m feeling?

Or am I giving him too much credit? Would the world have found a way to inflict the same scars and would I have found a way to develop the same scar tissue? Would I have learned just the same to defend myself by stepping back, closing off, and smiling? By hiding my shiny and wet eyes until I took a shower so I couldn’t tell where the salty and fresh started and ended?

Annoyed. Impatient. Brow furrowed.

Tired.

I’ve learned well how tiring it is to keep the tears bottled up. Even now while I’m writing in the living room as people walk back and forth I’m breathing shallow. Trying to stay in control. I don’t want the questions and the looks of pity. I want to exist in a void for a moment so I can let it all out without bothering anyone or being bothered.

I’ve only cried from grief in the last three years. I didn’t realise that until this moment as I’m sitting tense and bottled up. Minimising my movement. Keeping my eyes down.

Could I even imagine a different way of being? Allow myself to process anything at all instead of shoving it down and moving forward. Always forward.

I think I could. I don’t think I’m brave enough to follow through.

Day 1/?

Playlist add: C’est que de bonheur - Stromae

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #daily writing #writers of tumblr #fitting that my first post is all about #my big ol #totally unique #daddy issues #love that for me #i miss writing #even if i enjoyed world building #this is nice too #750 words

2 notes · View notes

lovlydovlyjaycie · 3 years

Text

Ævi - The Protector

Hey, so this is going to be a mini series on something I have tried to do before. But I thought of a different way to make it shorter and to make it make more sense. I hope you like it, this idea has been in my head for honestly.. a couple of years now lol. I just decided I really want to put it down somewhere. And where is better than here? Am I right?! lol

Summary: This is set in 2010. There are no such things as superheroes. Right? Maybe Iron Man, but that is it. It has to be. Y/n was just trying to celebrate her birthday, but that quickly changed when she got a gift from a mysterious man.

Warnings: Fluff, violence, maybe one swearword

Characters: Y/n, Bjorn Ironside, Ragnar Lothbrok, Floki, Lagertha, OC Emma, OC Lars, OC Sanna, OC Nils, OC David Mentioned: Iron Man, Odin, Ivar, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Rollo

Main masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 2

It has been days since the.. time travel? Happened. This is definitely not some weird dream. The servants have brought me clothes to wear. It felt kind of surreal to wear these dresses. I had only seen replicas in museums or they were very aged. But this, it felt real, it still had its color. And I think Bjorn told the people that gave me the clothes that I glowed golden and white, because I am only getting white dresses with golden jewelry. But there was one particular piece of jewelry I liked, It was a piece of a belt on it was a tree. I’m thinking it’s Yggdrasil. Funny, cause that was on that stupid card that I got. I had stashed that away under my bed. I walked out of my room to the front of the longhouse. Ragnar had given me a room to stay in. Even though I dressed the part now, I still felt very out of place here. Would there be a way back or would I be stuck here for ever. So many questions, but there was nobody to answer them for me. Deep in thought I didn’t notice Bjorn was standing right in front of me. I walked right in to him. “Hey! you need to be a little more on guard today! haha!” Bjorn said laughing at me. I laughed at myself. “What do you mean? What am I doing today?” I asked him a bit confused. They weren’t letting me in on all the conversations. “You’re going to be training. You might want to put something else on. I’ve seen women fight in dresses, but it will be easier if you had armor on.” He stated. “Wait what? I’m training for what?” He smiled. “For what Odin send you here to do. He knew we needed help and he send you.”

They have been saying this since I got here. I didn’t believe it. Some higher power sending me here? Or did He. It was still all so confusing. But what could I do? I don’t know how to fight. And that glowing thing that happens every now and then.. I don’t even know what it is. Let alone control it.

“I think you really got the wrong impression. I don’t know how to fight.. I don’t know how to really do anything.” Bjorn put his hand on my shoulder. “That’s why we’re going to train you. The Gods were born with powers we cannot posses, but even they had to train to be able to fight.” I sighed. It was bad luck, it had to be. What am I supposed to do? “Now get dressed and then we’ll train.” Bjorn said as he patted my shoulders.

Servants had brought me some clothes where I could train in. They said it was of Lagertha, Bjorn’s mother. I had met her when I first got here. She seemed like a very strong woman, mentally and physically. I have also seen her fight and I would not like to be up against her. I’ve heard people say she is the greatest shieldmaiden. And so I have also read in books. It was so hard to wrap my head around me meeting people that have been dead for a thousand years. Or at least in my mind. Because it hasn’t happened yet here.

Then I have also met Floki. He is a little strange, but very kind. I am not sure if I like his laugh or if it is a little disturbing. I also met Bjorn’s brothers, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar. They all seemed nice enough, but they all looked like a little scary. But I think that is what they wanted, to not look approachable. Then I also have met Rollo, Ragnar’s brother. He seems like he doesn’t belong.

I walked over towards the place where I have seen everybody train before. “Hey!” Bjorn said waving at me. I came closer to him and he gave me a wooden sword. “Lets see what you got.” He told me. “Wait. Now? Shouldn’t you show me how to do it first? I don’t know how to fight.” I stammered. I thought that I would maybe start with observing and Bjorn would show me a few things, but not jump right into it. “The best way to learn is to figure it out for yourself and I’ve seen what you can do with that light. So it shouldn’t be hard.” He explained. “Well I didn’t know what I was doing. I still don’t know what I’m doing.” I said the last part under my breath. “Just charge at me. We’ll see from there. Come on!” I nodded my head. Here goes nothing.

I charged at him trying to hit his shoulder. But he quickly hit it with his wooden sword like it was nothing. “Come on you’re not even trying!” He said smiling going back in his stance. Breathed out through my nose. I tried again, but quicker. Again he hit my sword and now pointed his sword towards my neck. “Dead. Again!” He said loudly. I sighed. “You know, if you’d actually tell me how to do this it could be a lot easier.” He didn’t say anything, he only motioned for met to do it again. This time I went for his stomach. I charged at him and he hit my sword out of my hands grabbed my neck and put the sword up against my neck as well. We were standing so close I could smell the ale he most likely had before we started doing this. “Dead.” He said. I could feel his breath on my skin. This was the first time I was standing this close to him. He put the sword down, but he was still holding me very close. I could almost hear his heartbeat. He definitely heard mine. I was overwhelmed by everything here. And now Bjorn. Even though we had a rough start, he made sure every day that he was there for me. He introduced me to everyone. Most of all he showed me a kindness that I really needed right now. Also helps that he is pretty handsome.

I almost forgot he was still holding me. So I looked around and saw Lagertha. “Is that how you train everybody Bjorn?” Lagertha asked. That’s when Bjorn quickly let go and cleared his throat. “Well nobody can compete with you mother.” She smirked at that. “What has he taught you so far.” She asked me. “Uhmm-.” I started. She took that as her que. “Alright how do you stand?” She asked. I showed her awkwardly my stance. “What is that?! The wind could even knock you down if he wanted to. Do it like this. Your feet here, straighten your back a little, your arms forward, but not too much, yes like that. See a lot better.” She said when she was showing me. It felt more grounded. I nodded my head at her. “Alright when you are charging at him the easiest way to take him down is his legs or from the shoulders up. With a lot of power and training his torso as also a very good target. Be quick, because if this is life or death, you’ll only get one chance.” Lagertha told me I appreciated the help. I had no idea what I was doing. I gave it a go. I went quickly for the neck and this time Bjorn didn’t have time to hit my sword away. “Dead.” I told him. He laughed. “Very good. Now If I came at you, you’ll also would have to be quick. You will carry a shield of course, but those are heavy and you wont be able to hold your sword with both hands.”

Bjorn showed me some moves to defend myself and Lagertha showed me how to attack again. The both kept making good points, but in the back of my mind I still had the lingering thought that I didn’t belong. This was a mistake.

After what felt like hours Bjorn finally said that I could stop and it was enough for today. I probably smelt horrible. “You did good today.” Bjorn told me. “Thank you and thank you for showing me how.” I smiled at him. “Got to thank my mother for that. She has trained many shield maidens before. She knows what she’s doing. She also showed me a lot.” I nodded. we started walking back towards the longhouse. “Can I ask you something?” I asked Bjorn. “Why me, why do you think I’m send here by some higher power?” I asked. It has been bugging me for a while now. “Because we prayed for you, we prayed for help and sacrificed so Odin would send someone and one day later.. here you are.” It must be coincidence it can’t be anything else. But then again, how did this happen? “Why did you pray for someone to come?” I asked. “Because out there in those woods there are things that we can’t fight. We first thought it was the English, but this is no human. That’s why we needed you.” I stopped walking. “What is out there?” Bjorn stopped as well and looked at me. “We think it is Hela or frost giants.” I looked at him with big eyes before I started laughing. “Frost giants? There is no such thing.” Mythical creatures. It’s ridiculous those are stories. “Why could that not be it when you are here?” He asked me. That was true. I did get here somehow and I don’t even know I science could explain this. Would there even be a logical answer.

Bjorn sighed. “Look, again, I have seen what you can do. And even though we have a strong army.. It would need some extra help. You are that help. You’re only holding yourself back. Let go of whatever thought is blocking you from holding back. You’ll see.” He told me sure of himself. He had more belief in me for only knowing me a couple of days, than I had in myself. He put his arm around my shoulder and motioned for met to walk back with him.

After I had cleaned myself up they had a gathering tonight, so I had to dress up. Again the servants had put down a white dress and some jewelry, but I decided to add the belt with Yggdrasil on it. When I walked out of my room there were already a lot of people inside. Most if them already drunk. I saw Floki and he quickly walked up to me. Pushing people out of the way. “Hi there y/n! I saw you were training today. You weren’t very good huh?” He said giggling. “Nope not really.” I said nonchalantly. I knew I was bad. I didn’t really want todo it. “I prayed for the Gods for a sign to give you strength, so soon you’ll be undefeated.” He said with another giggle. They had so much faith in.. in whatever was there. I appreciated it though. “Thank you Floki.” He giggled again and gave me his ale. “Oh no I don’t-.” I started but he pushed it in my hands. “Drink up little one.” I smiled and took a small sip. It was disgusting.

In the distance I saw Bjorn, so I excused myself and walked over to him. “Hi! You want some ale?” I asked as I pushed my drink in his hands. “Sure!” He said and downed the ale. I looked a bit shocked and impressed at him. “Wow, thirsty?” He laughed. “Anything handed by someone as beautiful as you I’ll take.” I immediately turned red of that comment of his. “There is that beautiful smile.” He said, which only made me turn more red. “How much did you drink?” I laughed. “Not enough! Here come with me I’ll get more.” He took my hand and guided me towards the table where they had put different kinds of foods and ale. “I really don’t want anything, I’m fine.” I said smiling. “No such thing! We are celebrating!” Bjorn said almost with a skip in his steps. “Yes, and what exactly are we celebrating?” I wasn’t sure before if there was actually something to celebrate or if they just wanted a excuse to party. “We’re celebrating you!” He called. Me? What did I do? “Why are we celebrating me.. I didn’t do anything.” We got to the table and Bjorn handed me a cup and filled it up with ale. “Well.. We’re celebrating for hope. You are our hope. And tomorrow we’ll have a sacrifice to make sure we’ll win our battle.” He said happily. I didn’t understand, no one was telling me anything. “What battle? What is out there? I keep hearing I’m send by Odin and that I’m your hope, but nobody is telling me why.. So why? Tell me what’s out there!” I demanded. I didn’t understand that I kept being told that I’m their savior, but nobody was telling me for what. “Well, we weren’t sure at first, but after we saw you fight today.. we knew, you-” “After you saw me fight? I failed miserably. I can’t fight, Bjorn. Who ever you’re hoping for to help you.. It’s not me.” I interrupted.

“Y/n you are a quick learner. And how quickly you adjusted yourself every single time.. And not to mention in the woods when you made me fly back.. It is you. Whatever thought you’re holding on to that it’s not.. you need to let go of that. Everybody here believes in you. It’s just you who’s not.” Bjorn went on to explain. “You still haven’t told me what’s out there.” I stated, I decided to ignore what he said. I still didn’t believe any of it. It was a coincidence. It had to be. Bjorn sighed. “We think they’re frost giants.. But we believe Hela sent them. This dark figure with long black hair has been flowing around Kattegat. We think they’re working together.” Hela and frost giants? What? This has got to be some joke. But my curiosity got the better of me. “Why would they be working together?” That’s the part that didn’t make any sense to me. Because in the books I’ve read she has her own army, why would she need frost giants.. And why would she want earth? If it was real of course, because frost giants and.. Gods don’t exist. “Because Odin put her army to sleep and banished her from Asgard. She must be seeking revenge.” Right.. why didn’t I think of that.. Obviously that’s it. “And you think Odin has sent me to stop all of that from happening?” I looked at him and took a sip from my disgusting ale. I cringed slightly because it was so strong. “Yes of course!” He nodded like I cracked the case. “Why isn’t Odin here himself then? You know.. to stop it from happening. Because obviously he knows how to fight.. Where I do not know.” That made Bjorn close his mouth, he probably didn’t think of that. “You know what if these ‘Frost Giants’ show up I’ll help you fight. I just don’t think I’ll be that useful.” I said in a mocking tone. This was all ridiculous. Maybe I was still dreaming. Or I was in some sort of coma, that would explain why I’ve been here for this long. I didn’t notice at first but Bjorn looked a little disappointed by my comment. “Hey, I’m sorry.. It’s just, a couple of days ago I was somewhere completely different and now all these things are being thrown at me.. It’s just a lot. Nothing personal.” I told Bjorn as I put my hand on his arm. “I understand, I just.. You know what the battle is not today, so lets drink like there will never be a battle!” I agreed on that. As I slipped my hand down, Bjorn caught it. I looked at him with surprise and he kept looking at our hands. Then he looked back up to me. “May there be no battle.” He said as he pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed my hand. “May there be no battle.” I repeated and put my cup up and we cheered. I quickly took a sip and after a while the ale stopped tasting disgusting and now it was tolerable.

What was this man doing to me? The whole night I was just blushing. He only needed to stand close to me or brush up against me and I would turn red. I had been trying to avoid his gaze as much as I could from embarrassment. And he knew what he was doing to me. Because every time he caught my gaze he would smirk and come closer to make it worse. He would even go as far as to bring me back to my room just to give me a goodnight kiss on my cheek and ask. “Goodnight y/n. Will you dream about me?” If I wasn’t red before this definitely did it. I didn’t have a come back.. I needed to say something. “Will you about me?” Stupid.. Why was this the only thing I could come up with? “I definitely will. You’ll never leave my mind.” Smooth. Dammit. “Well.. I’ll see you in your dreams then. Goodnight Bjorn.” I couldn’t say the last part more quickly before I shut the door. This man.. God..

With my head in the clouds I dropped on my bed. Not bothered to take me clothes off and put on the nightgown I was given. Besides the disgusting taste the ale was good for something, because I dozed off to sleep quickly.

I woke up by yelling and other loud commotion in the middle of the night.. or early in the morning. Either way it was still dark. “What the hell is going on?” I said out loud. I stood up, still slightly dizzy from the drinks I had. I walked towards the small window I had in my room. It was high up so I had placed a box under it to stand on. It was still very dark outside, so it was not morning. But outside I saw people running and screaming. What was going on? Then a man stabbed a woman in the back. I gasped and stepped back forgetting I was standing on a box and fell to the ground. I just saw a woman get killed. Why? What was happening? I stood up and walked back to the box to see outside. When I stood on the box trying to see what was out there the man or something I thought was a man stood there right in front of the window looking at me. That was no man, it was not even human. His skin was blue and his eyes were all red. I had never seen anything like that before. What was that? Then the thing came running even closer towards the window and got his sword ready to charge. I quickly jumped of the box I briefly looked back to the window and saw that that thing was trying to break it. Not needing to look back again I ran out of the door.

Nobody else was in the house. And besides of all the screaming from outside It was eerie quiet inside. I quickly ran towards the front door to get out of the long house. That would be safer right? That thing was trying to break the wall. Even though outside there is probably more of him. I second guessed myself and froze. I needed to hide here right? In the corner by the front door I saw some boxes. I need to hide there. I quickly ran over and made myself as small as I possibly could and hid. This is not real. I’m in some sot of coma and this is what will wake me up. It had to be.

Then I heard the door of my room break. I could slightly see between the boxes that the thing was looking for me. I made myself sit as still as I possibly could also trying to hold my breath. The thing was going around looking for me behind the throne that was placed in the middle of the room, the tables, behind walls. When he saw that I wasn’t there he started walking towards the door. Pleas don’t look here, please don’t look here, please don’t look here. I kept thinking to myself. And he got to the door. Ok, now go outside, don’t look here. Please, for the love of God, walk out that door. As he got to the door he stopped. Of course. He turned his head towards the boxes I was hidden behind. Fuck. He pushed the boxes out of the way with like it was nothing and then grabbed my ankle. “NO! LET ME GO!” I yelled. I was hitting him as hard as I could. For e brief second he let go of my ankle and I tried to scurry away only for him to grab me by my throat. My breathing got cut off instantly. He lifted me up in the air my feet trying to touch the ground. I tried to scratch his hands or hit him, but to nothing worked. Stars were starting to form in my eyes. “You’re it?” He said right when everything started to turn dark.

And then I fell to the ground with a thud. I was coughing up a storm and trying to catch my breath when I saw Bjorn pull out his sword from the things chest before he hurried over to me. “Are you ok?” He asked with concern in his eyes. “What was that.” Was all I cared about. He lifted me up to my feet and started to walk outside. “Frost Giants.” He said quickly before he pulled me to the side of the longhouse trying to stay out of sight. “Here.” Bjorn said pushing his sword in my hands. “What?! You’ve seen me fight.. No, I can’t do it!” I was freaking out. Only today I had trained for the first time ever besides that I almost got killed not one minute ago. “You’re gonna stay with me and if you need to use it use it.” He said sternly not giving me a option. So I nodded my head unsure. “How are you gonna fight them without a sword?” And he pulled a axe from behind his back and showed me. “Come on! It’s better if we get you out of Kattegat to safety.” He said as he started walking, but I was frozen in my spot. This all felt too real. I really almost could’ve died and now looking around I saw bodies laying on the ground. They were all dead. I could’ve died. Bjorn noticed my panic and quickly went back over to me. “Hey! You’re ok! I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He grabbed my hand that was not holding his sword and looked at me. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to me or Bjorn or anybody in this town, but still if felt stuck becau- And then Bjorn planted his lips against mine. All of my negative thoughts seemed to fade away and for a second the screaming seemed to stop. As quickly as this moment cam it went away when he slightly moved away from me his lips still close, but not brushing against mine anymore. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He repeated. “Do you trust me?” He asked looking into my eyes. All I could do was give him a small nod, still afraid to do anything. But I’d follow him. He kept holding my hand and guided me away.

We tried to avoid being seen by anybody. This was the hardest thing I had ever done. Seeing and hearing people cry for help and not doing anything broke me. With every last scream I heard from the people that were loosing their life my heart broke and it actually physically hurt me, but I tried to push that feeling away as much as I could.

We were getting closer to the edge of Kattegat and it seemed to get quieter here. “Alright probably some people already made it out of Kattegat, if you follow this trail-” Bjorn started. “Wait you’re not coming?” I asked. “I have to fight for Kattegat.” He said as he kept looking around if it was safe. “What about me fighting Frost Giants. I’m not leaving without you and if you’re not leaving I’m not leaving.” I demanded. “It’s not safe-” He started but saw something coming closer. Bjorn got ready to fight instantly. Two Frost Giants walked closer with their swords in hand.

“Give up the girl.” One of them said. “You’ll have to go through me first!” Bjorn said loudly. What was he doing? He didn’t have to do that. But knowing he meant it I got ready to fight as well. Feet slightly apart back slightly straight and my sword up, but not to close to my face. Just like Lagertha taught me. The Frost Giants just laughed like this was some kind of pathetic joke. They came closer with their swords forward. They aimed high for Bjorn’s head, but he easily dodged it and hit them lower by their legs. While Bjorn was tall, these Frost Giants towered over him. One of them started charging at me and I easily dodged his first blow by jumping back, but as I tried to hit him back he hit my sword out of my hands. In the corner of my eye I saw Bjorn was gaining the upper hand, but me not so much. The giant hit me with his elbow in my stomach and I fell back. I crawled backward trying to get away from him when I felt I got to my sword. I decided to just put it in front of me and hope for the best. And at perfect timing the giant wanted to leap forward and tried to hit me with his sword, but he landed into my. He went limp quickly, but I cut my upper left arm by his sword. “Ahh!” I groaned. I decided to ignore the pain and see if I could help Bjorn. He must’ve lost the upper hand, because now he was being pushed back and fell to the ground. Without a second thought I held my sword a little tighter and ran towards the giant. I jumped forward and put my sword through his chest and then quickly pulled it back out. The giant instantly fell to the ground and didn’t move. I killed him. I killed two Frost Giants.

Taking a deep breath I turned toward Bjorn and put my hand out to help him stand up. “See you’re a better fighter than you think.” He said smiling. Trying to make light to this situation I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re so stupid.” He laughed at that. “Are you ok? Did you get hurt?” He asked all serious again. “I’m fine I just had a-.” I wanted to point at my cut, but nothing was there anymore. My arm was already healed, like nothing happened. But looking at my clothes clearly something did. The blood was still on it and there was a cut in my clothes at the place I got cut, but the actual cut was not there. ”I-I’m ok.. I thought I.. I’m ok-” I started as I felt a burning feeling in my lower abdomen. I looked down and saw a sword sticking out, before it disappeared back in my abdomen. My vision instantly became clouded and I felt light headed. looking down I saw blood gushing out of my abdomen. And then I fell to the ground before my vision turned completely dark.

...

Let me know what you think.

Also the sword that you see in the gif would be the same sword Bjorn gave y/n, just to get an idea of what it looks like :)

Tags:

@firebirdsalvatore

46 notes · View notes

fellulahh · 4 years

Note

Hey, when you have time, can we get part 3 of "He overhears MC admit she has a crush on him"? It's so good, I want to know what would happen next!

Here it is! Unfortunately I don’t think this Part 3 is as good as Part 1 and 2 but if aestheticbltch wants Part 3, aestheticbltch is gonna get it!😹

He overhears MC admit she has a crush on him - Part 3

Masterlist is here

Lucifer:

“Only the important bits.” He smiled sincerely. “I was hoping you’d actually stay with me for a bit.” He said, gesturing toward the tray. “Perhaps you and I can talk.”

MC bit her lip as she considered his offer. She had told Mammon she’d meet him back in the kitchen but ten minutes wouldn’t hurt, would it? “Okay...” she said slowly, eyeing up the eldest brother as she pulled out a chair.

“So is there anything else I should know? Other than the fact you’re in love with me?” He raised an eyebrow while smirking. MC’s cheeks grew red as he teased her. She helped herself to one of the finger sandwiches she made, holding it in her small hands.

“No” she stated simply, “But perhaps you could tell me something?”

“I’m listening.” He leant forward, growing serious.

“What did you think when you found out?” She asked seriously, looking at him with big eyes as she took a bite of the sandwich, placing one hand on his desk.

“Admittedly I was surprised. I didn’t think you looked at me like that. It certainly was eye opening for me.” He stated.

He stared deeply into her eyes as she considered what to say next. After not being able to form a response, she smiled at him embarrassed, “Forgive me, I’m still a little flustered.” She laughed sheepishly, looking away from his gaze.

“Don’t be.” He spoke, placing a hand on hers. Her head shot up to meet his eyes. “It was a pleasant revelation - one that I’m glad to have heard.” He said softly, making her heart flutter. “And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to try something.” He said confidently, standing up from his chair, letting go of her hand. Walking around his desk, he stood in front of MC. His eyes gazed into hers as he placed his fingers under her chin. “May I?” He asked.

MC said nothing, she only nodded - she couldn’t believe what was happening. Had she died and gone to heaven? Or better yet, hell?

Leaning over, Lucifer slowly closed his eyes as he brought his face down to hers. Tilting her head up, her heart quickened as the gap between them disappeared. She felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as he pressed his soft lips onto her own.

They lingered for a few seconds before he pulled out. He looked down at her with furrowed brows and red cheeks “Who would have thought a human like you could stir up these feelings in me.”

Mammon:

Mammon’s head was about to explode. ‘SHE LIKES ME’ he cried over and over in his mind. His eyelashes fluttered as he gazed at MC stood in front of him. He couldn’t help the sheepish grin that was plastered across his face. Every time he tried to speak, all that would come out was little huffs of air. He was completely and utterly dumbfounded.

“Are you okay?” MC laughed, beginning to get concerned.

Realising his cool facade had gone out the window, Mammon quickly cleared his throat loudly. “Y—yeah why wouldn’t I be?” He asked with a shrug.

MC raised an amused eyebrow “You finally remembered how to talk then did you?” She quipped.

Mammon shot her a look, cheeks still red. “Stop it will ya? I’m tryin’ to keep my cool.” He mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets, turning his head to look at the floor.

“Why’s that?” She grinned, stepping closer to him. His heart started thumping as MC’s body got nearer to him. He could feel his forehead begin to grow sweaty as his mind was clouded with millions of thoughts.

“No reason.” He said casually but very unconvincingly.

She raised an eyebrow and had a smug grin on her face. “You don’t like me too, do you?” She teased already knowing the answer, closing the small gap between them until their chests were practically touching. He looked down at her with eyes like saucers. Mammon’s knees began to weaken and his heart was ready to burst.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denied, once again very unconvincingly. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Without thinking, Mammon placed both of his hands on her waist. “I mean yeah, I can think of worse people to be crushin’ on.” He muttered quietly.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” MC asked before going up onto her toes to kiss him quickly on the lips. Mammon instantly tried to kiss back but she only pecked him before pulling away. Although flustered, Mammon looked at her offended with a slight pout. “What?” She laughed at him.

“You’re gotta give me more than that! I didn’t say you could stop.”

She rolled her eyes at the exasperating demon while wearing a big grin before pulling him in for another kiss, this time lasting a whole lot longer.

Levi:

MC smiled at him, her cheeks still red. “Did you...did you want to perhaps play with me? I can show you what I’ve done.” She asked quietly.

“Yes please.” He nodded, accepting her offer - a small smile creeping onto his lips.

She led him to the sofa, both of them plonking down as she picked up her discarded laptop. Beel admired the pair of them - both MC and Levi were nervous wrecks. He smiled every time he noticed Levi get flustered whenever MC glanced at him. Both of them were blushing messes as MC showed him her screen.

“I’m going to go grab some food.” Beel said contently, leaving the two of them to their own devices.

After Beel left, MC smiled to herself “I’m a little embarrassed to show you this.” She chuckled, turning her laptop to show Levi. “But seeing as you eavesdropped on mine and Beel’s entire conversation there’s no point in hiding it.” Levi went to defend himself but then realised he had no argument. “So this is you.” MC said, pointing at his Sim. “I even got your purple hair.”

“And my headphones!” Levi grinned.

“I also gave you a gaming room and put a fish tank in our bedroom - admittedly it’s a little smaller than Henry’s but it’s still there.” She laughed, her nerves beginning to relax.

Levi leant into her, listening intensely to everything she had to say. They spent the afternoon together, MC showed him how to play and before long they were practically fighting over who got to manage their sims lives - in a playful way of course.

Although neither pair spoke of their feelings to each other, they didn’t need to. They were both content sharing a laptop, stealing blushing glances at each other every so often.

Satan:

“For you perhaps - you were rather loud after all.” Satan laughed to himself “but not for me. For I too was troubled on how to fess up my feelings for you but now I know you feel the same way, I don’t need to worry.” He said smugly, placing a hand on her knee.

MC’s heartbeat quickened when she felt his touch. She gawped up at him, her eyes shimmering with curiosity as she bit her lip. Satan stared at her intensely, hand still placed firmly on her knee.

Feeling something in the pit of her stomach, she felt her body lean towards him, he copied her actions - the gap between them slowly closing. “You feel the same way?” She asked quietly as her breathing grew quicker.

“Like I said, I too found myself conflicted on how to admit my love for you.” He licked his lips, eyes staring into hers. Letting out a low chuckle, he continued, “But now that you’re here I wish I’d done so sooner.”

“How long have you felt this?” She asked softly

“Long enough.” He stated, caressing one of her arms with his hand, “All I can do now is make up for the lost time.”

MC felt her body gravitate toward Satan’s, his words putting her under a spell. “How do you plan on doing that?” She asked hypnotised, body craving for more. Biting her lip, her heart fluttered as she anticipated his answer.

Satan thought for a moment, not answering straight away. Slowly, a devilish smirk spread across his lips as he brought his lips to hers “Inviting you to spend the night with me.” he whispered against her skin before kissing her.

Asmo:

“I always knew you loved me.” He said smugly, pulling MC into his side as they strolled down the street.

“Did you now?”

“Well of course, who wouldn’t love me?”

“Sometimes I wonder why I love you when you get all big headed like this.” She laughed at him, playfully slapping his arm. He looked at her pretending to be offended.

“You’re just jealous of my confidence darling!” He cooed, doing a little pose. “I’m happy you’ve admitted your feelings though - I was beginning to tire trying to get your attention.”

“You tried to get my attention?”

“MC I didn’t start upping my skincare ritual for me!” He exclaimed dramatically, making MC laugh. “We should celebrate.” He grinned, stopping in his tracks, gripping both of her hands. “Let’s go get a drink together or better yet let’s head back home and consummate our love.”

“Asmo!!” MC raised her voice, trying to hide her smile.

“What?” He asked, “it’d be so romantic - like two star crossed lovers finally coming together.” He gushed. “Oh I can’t wait to walk in to dinner with you on my arm.”

MC smiled in admiration at how excited Asmo was. “You’re going to have to kiss me first.” She stated, “I’ve admitted my love for you, now you have to prove yours to me. I’m not going anywhere on your arm until I get a kiss from you.” She smirked.

“You speak as if it’s a difficult task!” He beamed, “Let me take you home and I’ll give you much more than a kiss.”

Beel:

“And miss out on seeing that happy look on your face?” He asked, pinching her warm cheeks “Not a chance.”

MC was dumbfounded as she felt his touch on her skin. Feeling Beel’s gaze on her, she avoided his eyes, feeling a sudden wave of shyness hit her. Her heart was beating fast, feeling overwhelmed by the events of the past five minutes.

“Hey, don’t go all quiet on me!” Beel laughed at her, holding his arms out to pull her into his body. “You are happy, aren’t you?” He asked as he nuzzled his chin on the top of her head.

She gripped onto him, mesmerised by his muscular body. “Of course I’m happy!” She giggled, “I’m just in shock.”

He pulled out to look at her quizzically. “Why? I’ve always liked you, MC. You’re the most precious thing I’ve ever met!” He beamed, showering her in affection.

“Beel, stop it.” She laughed sheepishly, cheeks getting hotter (if that was even possible).

“You’re so cute when you’re nervous.” He cooed.

“Listen you two” a voice interrupted, both Beel and MC turned their heads to look at Belphie “as happy as I am that you’ve both finally confessed your undying love for each other, you’re making me feel like a third wheel here.” Belphie chuckled “Can you take it somewhere else?”

They turned their heads again, eyes meeting. “You wanna go grab something to eat? I’m starving.” Beel asked, smiling kindly down at her.

“You’re always starving, Beel.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

Belphie:

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not.” He chuckled, she looked at him expectantly and his eyes flickered to her “your feelings are a little unorthodox, yes...but I’m happy that you feel this way.” He smiled at her. “And I will happily wait until you’ve settled the conflict in your mind.” He smiled sadly at her.

“Maybe I don’t want to wait.” She mumbled hesitantly. “My feelings for you aren’t going to go away anytime soon” she hated to admit.

He raised an eyebrow at her, eager to listen to more.

“As much as I try to rid my thoughts of you, you still find a way to creep in.” She let out a single laugh, “no matter how much time I spend away from you, I’m always going to want to see you. You’re infuriating!” She joked.

He let a smile spread across his face as he watched MC begin to ease. “I’m trying to better myself.” He chuckled “You know that!”

“Yes I know that.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s why you’re so annoying - I cant resist you! You make me go stir crazy, I’m not supposed to love you, I’m supposed to despise you.” She laughed to herself.

Belphie wanted to give her space but deep down he knew that if she didn’t want to be with him she would have walked away the minute he entered the room. “I know what I did was unforgivable” he started “but I am willing to do whatever I can to prove to you I’m different - I would do anything for you, MC. And if you want to take that chance I will not stop you, but if you need time I will give you it.” He breathed “I do love you, MC.”

“I don’t want time.” She turned to him, shaking her head. “You tell me you’re going to prove that you’re different but really I already know you are. You’re not the Belphegor I met in the attic, you’re Belphie. You’re the demon who rid himself of the hatred he’d felt toward humans for centuries.” She spoke, “You wanna know how I know you’ve changed?”

“How?” He asked quietly, gazing into her eyes.

“You wouldn’t have fallen in love with me.” She put simply.

Hearing her words, Belphie couldn’t help himself. He held MC’s face in his hands as he brought his face toward hers. He kissed her passionately, her arms instantly wrapping round his body.

He held her body close, an arm wrapped protectively around her waist while his other hand remained on her cheek, slowly sliding into her hair.

She pulled away from the kiss with a gasp “This relationship is completely unconventional” she breathed “but I want to be with you, Belphie.”

“Then be with me.” He moaned, pulling her back in for a kiss.

Diavolo:

He didn’t answer right away. Stepping in front of her body so he could tower over her, his hand sneaked past her waist as she gawped at him. He picked up a notepad she’d missed on her desk, plonking it on the file of folders she held in her hand. “I want to hear more about all of things you’d let me to do to you.” He smirked.

‘Oh...oh’

*later that evening*

MC found herself stood outside the door to Diavolo’s bedroom. She was surprised when Barbatos said he was expecting to see her - what did Diavolo say to him? Feeling a flutter in the pit of her stomach, she bit her lip as she brought herself to knock on the door.

Before long, the door swung open, revealing the red haired demon. MC felt her knees weaken as she looked up at the glorious prince. “MC” he breathed with a smirk “You came.”

“Well My Lord” she began, batting her eyelashes innocently, “You requested my presence and I must be submissive when given an order by you.”

He was taken aback by her response “You’re a good girl” he grinned, letting her in to his chamber “I’ll remember that.”

Her heart thumped against her chest doing flips as she felt her body melt at his words. She spun around on her heel to face him. He shut the door slowly before locking eyes. Sauntering up to her, he towered over her as he moved a loose strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “So should I call you MC tonight or would you prefer ‘the future Queen of Devildom’?” He smirked.

MC’s eyes widened at his comment, “I don’t know what Solomon told yo—“

“Solomon didn’t tell me anything - he didn’t have to. I overheard your little conversation on the phone.” He chuckled as MC blushed with embarrassment.

He looked deep into her eyes, snaking his hands around her waist. “Now tell me MC - I haven’t forgotten - what things exactly would you let me do to you? Because tonight I’m going to do them all.”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me one shot #obey me mammon #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beel #obey me belphie

615 notes · View notes

silverkoushi · 3 years

Text

blue scarf ; sugawara koushi

haikyuu!! one shot

⇢ scenario: in which you forget to bring a scarf on the way to school, but running into him suddenly makes the cold, chilly air dissipate away with your feelings for him burning in your chest instead. ⇢ feat. : suga (karasuno) x you (f!reader) ⇢ genre : fluff, meet-cute, self indulgent lbr ⇢ wc & warnings: 2.8k, none ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ lmk what you think! i’m considering a 2nd part for this :-)

Sugawara Koushi didn’t have much to look forward to during his weekday mornings going to school. He is neither an early riser nor a person who absolutely abhors waking up before noon. He usually gets up before his first alarm turns off, and readies himself for the day ahead. He’ll chug a scalding hot cup of coffee sometimes, munch on an energy bar with half-lidded eyelids or perhaps snooze away whilst leaning against the wall in the bathroom as he brushes his teeth — but that’s all routine to Suga, there isn’t much to think about things you do on a daily basis for so many years now.

But that fateful day on a winter morning, well into his second year of high school, Koushi didn’t think there could be anything mildly interesting about his routine on the way to Karasuno.

Until he met you.

“Good morning,” he mutters, a friendly nod towards you. You quickly whip your head to the sound of his muffled voice underneath the blue scarf wrapped around his neck snugly. Half of his face was covered, probably in an attempt to keep exposed skin warm but for some reason, you can hear the smile in his tone.

“M-morning,” you stutter, reddened cheeks the only heat your face is emitting against the cold wind hitting the air around you. You had gone out forgetting your own scarf again, only to have remembered once you’ve already turned so many streets away from your house.

There is that logical voice in the back of your head encouraging you to return home and grab it, maybe two so you can chuck it in your locker in case this happens three more times in a row — but the early morning lecture from your mother would have been an inevitable reason of frustration for you eventually. So, you swallowed your pride and the sense of feeling anything on your face as you braved the biting winter season welcoming the streets of Miyagi.

Unfortunately for you, Koushi had detected the shivering in your words as well as your shoulders, watching the way your hands wrap themselves around you. He knew you went to the same school given the shared colors of your uniform, but for the past year and a half he spent in it, he’s bewildered by the fact that he’s never noticed you before today.

“Do you have something to keep you warm?” He asks, concern laced in his soft spoken manner.

Your steps naturally slow down to match his but as his body inches closer to you, the more you feel your feet side stepping two inches away. You were still very much in a state of freezing cold at this point, but having the Sugawara Koushi walk to school with you at the same time, greet you a good morning, and realize how stuipid you must have looked walking around with nothing to defend yourself from the weather?

Your body would probably give out first due to embarrassment rather than hypothermia.

“N-no,” you bite your lower lip in a futile attempt to keep the chattering of your teeth to a minimum, but the sudden breeze attacking your face made you come to a halt. Hair suddenly all over the place, you sacrifice the warmth your hands were exuding off your sleeve-clad arms to fix the flyaways atop your head. In your peripheral vision, Sugawara pauses with you, eyes trained at your actions with an indistinguishable expression— thanks to his scarf.

You panic inwardly, making haste with flattening out the pesky strands of hair without so much help as a mirror to see if you’re actually making it look better or way, way worse.

Curse him, you think with your eyes closing tight for a second. If there was anyone in the world — or at least the 3rd year batch in Karasuno — who had the messiest, most unkempt hairstyle you’ve ever seen: it’s Sugawara. And yet, it’s what gives the guy so much charm to his appearance without even getting to know his personality yet.

Admittedly, it was one of the first reasons why you harbor indescribable feelings towards him since you moved to his school just a few months ago. Your feelings had only deepened even more so in the bottomless pit of your heart once you have (eavesdropped) on the many anecdotes a lot of his friends from your class had said about him. (Particularly the student with a manbun named… it escapes you).

“Sorry, y-you can g-go ahead,” you let him know, shoulders shivering from the lack of heat source as little as your hands have given them. Sugawara continued to look at you with those gentle hazel eyes, studying every minute twitch of your body, and hands nervously tucking the last stray bangs out of your face.

“I’ll probably just go back h-home to get m-my scarf and b-be late for class—” you don’t know why you’re explaining your inner defeat out loud to him, but it was soon interrupted by the very blue scarf that hugged his neck being stretched out to you.

With your hands falling to your sides, your eyes held its nervous gaze upon kinder ones; and there is no telling how similar to a tomato your whole face had been colored by now. Sugawara urges the scarf closer to you, his tight lipped grin finally exposed for you to witness, for the world only just waking up to see for itself. .

“I think you need it more than I do,” he chuckles lightly, and before his arm gets numb from reaching over to you, you grasp the blue scarf with utmost care. It’s soft, just like you imagined. You feel nervous putting it around you while having an audience of one for at least three minutes now, but it would be rude to make Sugawara wait.

As you let the scarf engulf you in its small yet snug embrace, sudden notes of what smells like gingerbread cookies invite your senses to inhale it all in. To your side, you hear Sugawara laugh a little louder and longer this time, but it didn’t sound mean at all. You still look at him curiously, the lingering holiday-esque scent keeping you more wide awake than you actually were.

“My perfume probably rubbed off on the scarf,” he explains as if reading your mind (your eyes probably told it all, though). “It was an early Christmas present from my younger brother.”

“Oh,” you respond meekly, appreciating the tiny detail of his family life shared to you in the most unexpected of ways. “He has good taste,” you add, smiling shyly against the fabric.

“Right? My friends say it smells childish and too sugary,” Sugawara nods his head one too many times in agreement, pouting his lips at the end. “I think Daichi and Asahi just need to feel like a kid again more often.”

“I like gingerbread cookies, so this is right up my alley,” you comment, falling into step once more with Sugawara right next to you. If a few minutes ago your feet seemed to be magnetically pulling you away from him, this time you revel in the feeling of his arm brushing against yours every so often as you walk along the path to school.

He didn’t seem to notice— or maybe he didn’t mind? Either way, you masterfully calculated how wide your steps needed to be in order to accidentally mismatch his, and so the faux touching happens and your fast heart thudding in a never ending race.

“Ah, how could I forget to introduce myself?” He perks up in an instant, brows up in surprise while he puts a hand behind his neck for comfort. “I’m Sugawara Koushi, a third year in Karasuno.”

And I already knew that, and have been infatuated with you way before I heard your name, you confess in your mind, careful not to let the embarrassed squirm on your lips protrude from the scarf. Sugawara waits for your name expectantly, blinking up at you. Without hesitation, you blurt out yours, adding on that you’re in the same year as him.

“Is that so? Which class are you in?”

“3-2. I just transferred a couple months into the year, so I’m fairly new…”

“That explains why,” Sugawara hums to himself, grabbing hold of his chin as if to ponder over this information. You grip the handles of your backpack a little too tightly, not knowing what was there to outwardly think about you being new to the school, and the area. It’s not like it mattered too much to him, right?

“I’ve never seen anyone from my school walk the same way I do in the mornings, apparently they all live on the other side of town. Just like my friends,” Sugawara grins, and you couldn’t help yourself but to take in the endearing sight before you.

You wish the walk was an endless path, but soon enough your eyes can make out the exterior structure of the high school building, as well as the many trees surrounding its gate. Most of them had quickly shed off their leaves the past few days, and others are dusted with soft, plush snowflakes overnight. It was truly a sight to behold, entering the winter season away from the air pollution of the city where you used to live.

And also, the sight of Sugawara Koushi admiring the very same surroundings, his mole highlighting the beauty that his face radiated this early in the day.

Since you’re closing in on school grounds, a couple more students enter your field of vision; in groups of three, five or those who keep to themselves. Unconsciously, you dip into the gingerbread scented scarf further, nose scrunching at the possibility of returning the source of warmth to its owner sooner than you realize.

Having reached the gate, you begin to unwrap what has become your most favorite temporary prized possession from your neck, but the man in question (and always on your mind) physically stops your hand. His fingertips touch the back of your palm ever so slightly, sending tingles along your arm.

You jump from the sensation, taking Sugawara aback with you but he was quicker on his reflexes and keeps the same calm, gentle expression you love to daydream about.

“You can keep it, I’m sure the cold would be even more bothersome after school,” he urges.

Shaking your head, you protest, “No, no. I couldn’t— how about you? You’re walking home, too…”

“I have my volleyball jacket to keep me warm!” He chirps, sounding rather proud with the mention of his club uniform. With the scarf hanging down from your face, your smile lets itself out warmly this time. You’ve always wanted to watch him play upon hearing of his vice captain role in Karasuno’s volleyball team. There hasn’t been any official matches yet as far as you’re concerned, but going to their practices after school without any relation to the members whatsoever just deemed suspicious to you, so you kept the image of Sugawara tossing the ball and wearing his jersey and shorts and his messy hair even more out of place all to yourself. For now.

“I insist, though, you can keep it until you buy a scarf of your own,” Sugawara snaps you out of your reverie, a teasing tone seeping through his words. It takes you a second to realize this, noticing how his smirk turns into a goofy smile in an instant.

He’s teasing you, and you sure are wrapped around his slender, pretty finger.

“I— I have my own scarf! I just forgot it at home,” your first reaction is to pout, crossing your arms defensively at the lighthearted accusation. “I’ll take the scarf home tonight to wash it and give it back to you!” you huff once more, watching how Sugawara chuckles at your serious demeanor.

“Understood,” he responds with a mock salute, opening the door for you. You bow your head to thank him, awkwardly shuffling your feet to get you inside the somewhat less cold temperature in the school lobby. You proceed to change your shoes with your locker being a few steps away from Sugawara, and you contemplate whether or not it was okay to wait up for him. You share the same floor after all, but was this supposed to be the end of your interaction for today?

“Ready to go up?” Sugawara calls your name for the first time, looking back at you as he approaches the staircase.

You blink back, the worries swirling in your head slowly disappearing just by looking at him smile at you. And he said your name. You take the stairs to the third floor, a couple of students you recognize from your year in the hallways have said their quick hellos and nods towards the volleyball player, and you see him reply back in earnest grins and high fives.

Upon reaching your classroom first, Sugawara stands by the open door, right in front of you.

“Thanks for the company, it was a nice change of pace for me,” he tells you, the mole on his left eye crinkling in the way he smiles. You nod your head, ears heating up at the way he focuses all of his attention towards you — it’s a nerve wracking feeling but nevertheless something you’d want to experience again.

“Thank you for the scarf, I’ll make sure to return it in good condition,” you promise. “Have a good rest of your day, Sugawara-san.”

He opens his mouth slightly as if to correct you, but closes it at the next second when another boy screams his name at the top of his lungs at the other end of the hallway.

“Suga-san!!” A boy with a clean, shaven head runs up to him in a skidding halt, almost toppling over you. You flinch at this volume instinctively, wary of the fact that the situation between you and Sugawara would be misconstrued at this moment. In reality, he barely recognized your presence, wide eyes glowing at his friend instead.

“Have you seen Kiyoko-san? I need to talk to her!” He cries out loud, hands clasped tight.

Sugawara shakes his head no, places a hand on his friend’s shoulder to calm him down. “I haven’t, Tanaka. I just got here. What do you need her for?”

“I forgot to tell her how beautiful she looked yesterday after practice, and I feel like I had done the worst crime ever known to man,” Tanaka groans in frustration, a dramatic hand wiping at non-existent tears. As if on cue, you and Sugawara stifle a laugh, and that’s when he finally sees you. He takes a step back, points at your figure, then at Sugawara, mouth hanging open.

You’re certain he stopped functioning, so you squeak out, “Um.. hi.”

“Suga-senpai, you didn’t tell me you were taken! Does Daichi-san know? Asahi-san? Why are you leaving all of us behind like that— and keeping it a secret, too! I thought we were close buddies on the team!”

“Tanaka, shut up!” Sugawara had gravitated his hand over to the loud mouthed guy’s lips, clamping it shut. He tries to blabber some more but his words become incoherent, and you wouldn’t have been able to process them anyway with your cheeks rising to the heat, and your head getting dizzy due to his assumption about you two.

Sugawara isn’t less fazed, sweat oozing out his temples as he looks at you with an apologetic expression. “Sorry about my teammate here, he’s uh— he doesn’t have a filter, even with people he doesn’t know.”

“It’s okay!”

“I— I’ll see you later, then, yeah? Good luck in your classes today! Fighting!” He hurriedly tells you, dragging the Tanaka boy alongside him. You watch Sugawara push him on his back, almost tumbling down the stairs with the way he kept struggling from his grasp. You concur that Tanaka would have been a second year if they had went a floor down. Thankfully, students out and about had minded their own business, so you finally rush inside the classroom and took in everything that happened ever since you realized you forgot your scarf.

As your trembling heart beats at a normal pace, you finally become aware of the scarf you’re still using even when seated at your desk. The scent of Christmas cookies and Sugawara become one to you, and you feel utterly lucky to have been given a piece of him albeit it was out of his kindness (so you think).

“Hey, mornin’! Nice scarf,” your friend arrives with a few minutes before class starts, and you wave at her hello. You hadn’t taken it off yet.

“You still feelin’ cold in here? I think it’s pretty toasty actually,” she comments, placing her bag underneath her desk and making herself comfortable in the seat next to yours. You don’t respond, only bury yourself in the comfort of Suga’s scarf. She begins to share her morning festivities, and you listen with half a mind thinking about the next time you’re going to face Sugawara again.

You wish it was already tomorrow.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu au #haikyuu x reader #sugawara koushi imagines #sugawara koushi scenarios #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi x you #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara koushi au #suga:fics #hqf.jiae

36 notes · View notes

kaweeella · 3 years

Text

Just Kids Being Kids

Chapter 1- Class 79-B

With Danganronpa S being announced here’s a little series about the Hope’s Peak kids hanging out. I hope you like it!!!

~~~

Hajime sits down at his desk, the class already getting loud.

“Good morning,” Hajime looks over at who greeted him; Chiaki Nanami, ultimate gamer and representative of class 77-B. “How are you, Hinata-kun?”

“I’m alright, how are you holding up?”

She hums and takes her seat. “Yeah, same.” She pulls out a handheld and starts playing a rhythm game.

“Incoming!”

Hajime looks up to see a desk flying towards them. He quickly grabs Chiaki and ducks. She only looks up when she’s finished with the level.

“Guys you shouldn’t be throwing things in the classroom.” She scolds.

“Sorry, I guess things got a little out of hand!” Akane laughs and rubs the back of her neck.

The two get back into their seats, Hajime adjusts his uniform and Chiaki gets back to her game.

After a few minutes their teacher enthusiastically throws open the door, the rest of their classmates trailing behind her.

“Alright, kids! Today we will be learning algebra!” The class groans. “Oh come on, this is still a school.”

They go about class, Hajime staring off absentmindedly. He scribbles things into his notebook. The handwriting on the page before is much neater than his. He sighs just thinking about it. It’s gotta be easy to write like that when you’re the ultimate calligrapher. Just how algebra must be easy for an ultimate mathematician. Izuru Kamukura, ultimate… ultimate. He’s the one that got them into Hope’s Peak, Hajime feels so out of place.

“Hey, hey.” Chiaki gets his attention. “Did you hear what Yukizome-sensei said?”

“No, sorry.”

She giggles. “I’m gonna show around one of the incoming classes.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“Yep yep. So I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“I hope that goes well.”

“I’m sure it will.”

After school, Hajime walks slowly back to the dorms. Incoming classes, huh? He thinks about what they could be like. All of the other ultimate students are… eccentric to say the least. His train of thought is interrupted by a certain someone.

“Kamukura-chan, Kamukura-chan!” Junko Enoshima, ultimate fashionista, says.

“Sorry, wrong one.”

“Aw! I wanna talk to Kamukura-chan! Come on!” She says, shaking him.

“No can do. Now please let go of me.”

“Junko, let go of him.” Mukuro says to her twin.

Hajime shakes her hands off of him. “I thought you had some kind of photoshoot or something.”

“Aw, did you memorize my schedule? I didn’t realize you liked me that much, Hinata-chan!” She laughs. “But in all seriousness, it ended quicker than expected, and good thing too, it was getting so booooring.”

Hajime rolls his eyes.

“Oh! Have you heard about the new incoming students?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“A little birdy told me one of them’s an assassin.”

Hajime hums. “I don’t doubt it.” Hope’s Peak has never been one to care about the legality of kids’ talents.

Junko groans. “You’re so boring, Hinata-chan.”

“Sucks.” Hajime knows that telling her to leave wouldn’t do anything and the only thing he can do is wait for her to get bored.

“And you’re sooo mean too~!” She says, but doesn’t sound too serious. “This is why I like Kamukura-chan!”

“Oh no, however will I cope.”

“Maybe I’ll like you more if you get on your knees and beg.” She laughs.

“Ah, Hinata-kun!” Chiaki runs over to him. “Hello Enoshima-chan, Ikusaba-chan.”

“Hey, Nanami-san.” He waves. “Do you need something?”

“Can you give this to Yukizome-sensei tomorrow?” She holds out a folder.

“Sure.”

“What are you doing tomorrow, Nanami-senpai?” Mukuro asks.

“I’m gonna be showing some of the new students.”

“You are?” Junko perks up. “Tell me everything you know about them!”

“Well, one of them’s a detective.”

She deflates. “We already have a detective! What else?”

“Well, one of them was arrested for killing some people.”

“So there really is going to be an ultimate assassin?”

“Huh?” She pauses for a moment. “I’m not gonna go into too much detail, this isn’t my story to tell, but they aren’t an assassin.”

“Oooooh okay, okay.” She laughs and turns around. “Well, that’s all I needed, come on Mukuro.”

The two of them walk away, Mukuro giving the two a small wave. Hajime and Chiaki also part ways.

~~~

Kaede throws open the door to the room she was told to go to. She wheels her luggage over to the side and looks around. She showed up a little early, so it’s no surprise to her that there aren’t many people. There are four other kids; a girl in a gothic maid dress with hair covering one eye; a tall boy with long hair and all his skin covered besides his upper face; another boy with silver hair and strange bulky clothes; finally, a girl sitting cross legged in a chair playing on a handheld system.

She walks up to the girl in the maid dress. “Hi! I’m Akamatsu Kaede. What’s your name?”

She smiles softly. “I am Tojo Kirumi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“So what’s your talent? I’m the ultimate pianist.”

“I am the ultimate maid. I have served very powerful people and I can fulfil just about anything requested of me.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!”

“Not really, it’s just my job.”

“Well, I think that’s cool. It’s nice to meet you, Tojo-san!”

They both smile and Kaede turns to look at the other kids. She reasons that the other girl is doing something, so she’d talk to her last. She walks over to the silver haired boy. He’s shuffling awkwardly.

“Hey!” She greets him. He perks up.

“Hello!” He smiles at her. “I’m K1-B0, but you can call me Kiibo!”

“Oh! That’s an unusual name. I’m Akamatsu Kaede, the ultimate pianist.”

“I’m the ultimate robot, and I hope that name comment isn’t supposed to be robophobic!”

“Huh? No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything!”

“Alright,” His smile grows brighter than before. “You seem really nice, Akamatsu-san.”

“You seem nice too, Kiibo-san.” She waves and they part ways. There are some more kids who arrived; a short purple haired boy, a girl with long blue hair and circle glasses, a short boy with giant dead eyes, and a girl with green hair tied into two braids with a big green bow. She also notices that the bag she left by the wall has moved, it’s laying by the girl’s chair who has a leg lazily draped over it.

She walks over to the blue haired girl. She’s staring at Kiibo.

“Hello.” She greets. The girl just keeps staring. “What are you looking at?” Nothing. “You’re looking really intensely at Kiibo-san. Do you have a crush on him?” When she still gets no response, she huffs. “Come on…” She pokes the girl’s cheek. Then again. Then the other cheek.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to be poked on both sides today.”

“So what were you thinking about? Was I right? Do you have a crush on Kiibo-san?”

“Huh? I wouldn’t say that. I was just thinking… doesn’t he look like the main character in a video game?”

“Wh...what?”

“Don’t you see it too? Like a side scroller type where you can pick up upgrades to better fight the enemies. I’d say it’s plainly obvious.”

“Uh, I guess, but I don’t think he’d appreciate you saying that.”

“No? I thought people liked being told they’re the main character.”

“Well, I’m Akamatsu Kaede.”

“Ah, right. I’m Shirogane Tsumugi.”

“Hey!” The green haired girl runs over to them. “I’m Chabashiro Tenko. I’ll make sure to protect you from those degenerate men.”

“Huh? I think the guys here are pretty nice so far.” Kaede says.

“Oh yeah? See the little purple one? He tried to steal from that bag over there. If it weren’t for me and that other girl he would’ve gotten something for sure!”

“Oh dear…”

“Wait really? That’s my bag!”

“See? The degenerate boys will do whatever they think they can get away with!”

“Well, just because that one kid tried something bad, doesn’t mean all boys are bad.”

“Yes they are! They’re horrible, that’s what Master always taught me!”

Tsumugi giggles. “Well, thank you for your protection.”

“Yeah, now if you’ll excuse me…” Kaede rolls up her sleeves and approaches the would-be thief in question. “Hey!”

“Huh?! What is it?”

“Did you try to steal from my bag?”

“No, never! I’d never do something like that. Scout’s honor.” He smiles.

“Really?” She continues to interrogate him.

“No! Wh…why are you picking on me?!” He begins crying.

“W-wait I-”

“He did.” The sitting girl says, not looking up.

As if a switch flipped he immediately stops crying. “Damn. Looks like I’ve been caught.”

Kaede sighs. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She extends her hand to him. “I’m Akamatsu Kaede.”

He laughs. “Sure.” Then he walks away, leaving her hand extended.

“...”

She hears a strange laugh and notices the tall boy standing next to her.

“I suppose this place being a school for the gifted doesn’t mean that it’s a school for the honorable.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, at least there are people here willing to defend those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Yeah.” She’s not sure about the other girl, but she’s not sure if Tenko’d be willing to defend him. “Oh! Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Akamatsu Kaede.” She offers him a handshake like she did the other boy.

“Shinguji Korekiyo.” He shakes her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Akamatsu-san.”

She smiles. “Yeah, you’re pretty nice, Shinguji-san.”

They wave goodbye and Kaede goes to talk to the short boy.

“Hey!”

The boy hums. “Hello.”

“I’m Akamatsu Kaede.”

“...Hoshi Ryoma. I wouldn’t recommend getting too close to me.”

“Sorry.” Kaede backs away a little. “Is this better?”

“...” He chuckles. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh…”

“I’m not the kind of person someone like you wants to get involved with.”

“Someone like me?”

“A good person.”

“... you seem pretty good to me.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Alright, but I’d always be willing to talk if you’d like.”

“...thanks.”

He leans against the wall and takes out a small box. Kaede has to do a double take to realize they’re candy cigarettes. Then she looks around, her eyes lading on a new boy, standing in the corner.

“Hey!” She says as she walks over to him.

He jumps a little, grabbing the brim of his hat. “H-hello…”

“I’m Akamatsu Kaede. Good to meet you!”

He rubs his fingers on the brim of his hat. “O-oh, I’m Saihara Shuichi.”

Their attention is drawn to the door when someone loudly bursts through.

“Hello Hope’s Peak. Feast your eyes on the great Kaito Momota, luminary of the stars!” Almost everyone looks over at him. “This is the right room this time, right?”

“Yep.” The girl says, still not looking up.

“Great!”

He gets pushed to the side by a girl with long brown pigtails.

“Get out of the way.”

“Hey!”

Eventually all the other kids find their way there, the last one being a small red headed girl.

“Isn’t someone supposed to show us around?” Kaede asks.

“Oh,” The girl says. “Is everyone here now?” She grabs a clipboard and stands on the chair, counting. “Alright then, then we can get started. I’m Chiaki Nanami, and I’ll be showing you around today.” She gets down, picks up Kaede’s bag, and rolls it over to her. “Please keep a close eye on your stuff, some people have sticky fingers.”

A girl starts to snicker. “Their fingers aren’t the only things that are sticky.”

“Please hold all snarky and sexual comments until the end of the tour.” Chiaki instructs. After a beat of silence, she continues. “The 16 of you will make up class 79-B. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

They start the tour, Chiaki occasionally answering questions. Their final stop is the dorm building.

“Remember to grab your keys.” Chiaki smiles. “Any last questions?”

“Who’s that?” Maki asks, pointing to a girl who had been trailing them the whole time.

“Enoshima-chan, you’re supposed to be in class.”

“Oh no~ I guess I’ve been caught~” She laughs.

“Go back to class.”

“But I want to meet the new kids! They haven’t disappointed so far.”

Chiaki sighs. “Go get your keys and settle in, I’m gonna bring Enoshima-chan back to class.”

Kaede bounces on the balls of her feet. She’s liking it here already.

#non despair au #danganronpa #danganronpa fic #:)

12 notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

The Carpenter-Harald Finehair x Reader

(GIF credit to @imdancingintherain07)

Tags: @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: 'Hey, I love your writing. Especially anything to do with the vikings tv show. I was wondering if you could do a harold finehair one shot. Hes one of my favourites and there isn't much out there on him. Thank you very much. Xx'

Summary: (Y/N) is daughter to the towns carpenter. They live an average life, working day in and out, until a king visits and needs their help.

Characters: Harald Finehair x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/F/N)=Your father's name

Warnings: Swearing, angst, sexual tension, mentions of sexual nature, fluff

(A/N: NOT SET IN KATTEGAT OR ANY OTHER PLACE MENTIONED IN VIKINGS OR IN ANY TIMELINE IN THE SHOW)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Those knives aren't sharp enough (Y/N)." my father pointed out.

I quietly sighed."Are you asking me to sharpen them for you?"

He grunted in response. My father was always a man of few words, it was a wonder how he had wooed mother. As he carved away at a piece of wood, I picked up his tools, heading outside to the grinding stone. As I sat, I greeted our neighbours and people passing by, though still making sure that u was doing my job right. I wanted to get this done as soon as possible, I had intricate, detailed carving I wanted to complete.

Once finished, I walked back inside, laying out the tools beside father. He quietly thanked me, not looking at me, but noticing that I was still stood there.

"What is it?"

"Please may I start adding the details to the wood for the ship?"

The upper corner of his lip twitched, almost into a smile."Go on then, work your magic."

I brightly smiled, thanking him before picking up the tools I needed, heading towards the path that would lead me to the river. Father always built the ships there (obviously it was the smartest and easiest thing to do) and everyone knew it was his area. I would help with the initial building sometimes, but the detailing was my favourite part. I could sit alone, the soothing sounds of the water flowing by, the rustling of the trees, it was a perfect environment to work in.

I ran my hand over the smooth wood, proud of my father's work. As I rounded to the front, I decided to start there, thinking what to carve. I felt that the God's had bestowed these gifts to me to ensure that I could mark our ships with their symbols and luck, something to help our men and women that went off raiding or exploring. After what felt like a few hours, I rested my hands, noticing the calluses that had formed. Just as I was about to sit down on the bank of the river, I heard distant voices, and I would have ignored it if it didn't sound like my father.

"My daughter, (Y/N). " my dad shouted, grabbing my attention.

He was walking with another man, dressed in expensive clothing, with tattoos around his face and long hair, and they were headed towards me.

"She helps build the ships."

I stood beside the ship, waiting for then to stand in front of me, noticing the two guards staying further back.

"(Y/N), this is King Harald. He has come to see our work." father explained, his eyes widening as he said the word king.

I curtsied, shocked that a king would visit."It is an honour to meet you my king."

He nodded his head."I have come to see the ships I have heard so much about. I am in need of many for my next raid."

"I assure you, these are sturdy ships." father said as Harald checked over it.

"These carvings, they are exquisite. Who does this?"

"I do." I said.

He stopped, looking at me and smiling."If I were to order your father to builds ships for me, would you carve them?"

"If that is what you desire."

"It is."

"I would have to have other carpenters to help, I assume you want hundreds of ships."

He chuckled."Yes I do. And I will find the best in the land, though I doubt they'll be as good as you."

"You are very kind. I'm sure there are many out there that are far more experienced than I am."

"I have been on multiple ships in my time, and none had this beautiful detailling. When I bring others to carve into the ship, you shall be in charge, along with your father."

Father and I glanced at each other, shocked at the statement.

"Thank you your majesty. It is truly an honour that you have bestowed upon us." father bowed slightly, and I copied, not wanting to be disrespectful.

"Rise, please, rise." Harald laughed."Come, let us talk over a drink and a meal."

Father and I were still in shock over the request of the king. He had come from a neighbouring country, seeking out carpenters to complete his fleet quicker, and here we were, put in charge of everything. And most of all, he wanted me to add the detailing; was this a dream I hadn't woken up from yet? The money he was offering us, it was more than we had ever seen. And the compliments and proudness we got from our fellow townsfolk was so humbling, everyone was excited to start the work. Our town had never been important in any part of viking history, we weren't recognised for anything; but now we had a purpose, and my family were at the frontier of that.

"(Y/N), isn't it?" I heard Harald behind me.

Looking over my shoulder I found I was right. I turned around, seeing that he had two drinks in his hands.

"Yes your majesty."

He held out a cup for me, and I took it, not missing the way he purposefully grazed his fingers over mine."You have the hands of a warrior."

"I'm afraid they just look like that. These have been roughened from years of carpentry. I followed in my father's footsteps."

"You have never held a sword?"

"I have, though not as much as the shield maidens of out town. My mother taught me to defend myself, and I am lucky that I have never had to put those skills to use."

"You've lived here all your life?"

I looked around the room, scanning over the faces of the people I knew, which was everyone."Yes."

"And you've never wanted to get away from it all?"

I hesitated, and he noticed.

"You're afraid of leaving your family behind." he began circling me, I could feel his eyes looking all over me."They're old, you're their only child. It would be heartbreaking to let them go."

I raised my chin, building up my confidence."Well my king, you certainly seem to have me figured out."

He chuckled."I've never been good at reading people, especially women."

"So you do not have a queen?"

He finally stood in front of me, raising an eyebrow at my statement."No. I never seem to have the time to find one. And I must assume you have no husband?"

"And why is that?"

"Well, I would have thought he would be here now. Perhaps keeping an eye on you because he is jealous, or you would have at least smiled by now at someone in the room. And also you have been flirting with me since I arrived."

I scoffed."Flirting? You really don't know how to read women, do you?"

He was still smirking."You're denying it?"

"Yes, I am." I stated."I hope you appointed me in charge alongside my father because of my skills, and not because you thought I was flirting."

"I definitely wanted you for your skills. Though, it will be nice to look at something pretty whilst I am here."

I shook my head, excusing myself and curtsying before leaving. How was he so arrogant yet so enticing? For some reason, my mind wanted to push aside his comments as negatives, and accept them as positives. Perhaps it was the lack of interest I have in the men around me, it wasn't even because he was a king! Harald said he could read women, but he definitely could effect them, in many ways. We didn't cross paths again that night, though I was due to meet with him in the morning, to start the plans to build the ships.

"Mother, why have you laid out one of my best dresses?" I asked that morning as she served breakfast.

"Go get dressed. You need to look your best for the king." she smiled.

"He met me in one of my plain, normal dresses. I'll be working on the ships today, I don't want to ruin it."

She sighed."Well, can you at least do something with your hair? Add a few extra braids, wear some jewellery or something. He's the king who is paying us good money."

Mother wasn't the only one thinking about appearances. I had figured out how to style my hair that day, and I wasn't wearing my usual working dress, just something with a bit more colour. Father paid no mind to how different I looked until mother pointed it out, and even then, he didn't acknowledge it. The three of us walked down to the centre of town, preparing to meet Harald in our town's hall. There was a gathering of people there already, but they weren't from our town.

"Father, who are all of these people?" I asked.

"I don't know. Perhaps Harald brought the other carpenters here already."

"But so quickly?"

We entered the hall, bowing to Harald who was sat at the head of the table. There were four other men there, watching as we approached them. Mother stayed outside, and even though I was still with father, it felt like Harald and I were the only ones there. I had known this man just less than a day, yet I could spot those piercing eyes out from a crowd of a hundred people.

"(Y/F/N), (Y/N)! Our leaders have arrived." Harald extended his arms as he stood, the cheerful expression on his face once again."These men are the other great carpenters I have gathered on my journeys, and I know everyone here has the skills I need for my ships. But these two,"

Harald walked over to us, standing behind us as he wrapped his arms around us, a hand on each shoulder.

"these two are the people I have selected to lead and guide you. With all of your fine hands put together, we shall create the best fleet of ships in the history of viking."

Everyone sat at the table, listening to Harald's instructions. He told us how many we were making, what they were going to look like, and how many men he intended to have on board. The men discussed the building side of everything, working out what materials we needed and how much, but I found it hard to keep up with it all, or even add anything to the conversation; Harald unashamedly stared at me throughout the meeting. My father was sat right next to me, yet there was no hesitation, and he smoothly answered any questions as if he was listening the whole time.

But of course he wasn't scared, he was a king. We were his lowly servants that was supposed to do his bidding, it was obviously what he was used to. If any of us went out of our way to go against him, he would easily get rid of us. No wonder he thought I was flirting with him (even if I was).

Once the meeting finished, we were to go to the mass of people outside, split them into groups and set off to work, yet I was pulled back by Harald. I noticed everyone had left, even the guards; we were totally alone.

"My king?" I said, noticing his hand still holding onto my elbow.

"I wanted to see you, alone." his low voice enticed me, and I wanted to slap myself into normality.

"Why?"

He let go of me, a suggestive smile forming on his face."I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight."

"Just me?"

"Yes."

I sat into my hip, crossing my arms over my chest."And why is that?"

He seemed surprised that I was questioning him."Because I want to get to know you better."

"You want to get to know one of your carpenters better?"

"Why must you fight me?"

"I am well known in this town, and I'm respected. I don't want to tarnish that by everyone thinking that I was on my knees for the king."

"And why would you be on your knees?" his cockiness had returned, and I couldn't deny that I didn't like it.

I scoffed."Please excuse me, I must start building your ships."

I started walking away, but he called after me."Is that a yes?"

I smiled, though he couldn't see it."Yes."

After a long day of bossing people around and helping create the basic structure of the ships, my mother ushered me home before anyone else, somehow having heard about my dinner with the king. A bath was waiting for me as soon as I stepped into the house. She helped me out of my dress, and although I protested about her washing my hair, she did so anyway, throwing the cold water over my shivering body.

"Mother, I can get ready by myself." I sighed, repeating myself for the fourth time.

We were now sat on my bed as she braided my drying hair, the locks now becoming wavy and looking soft.

"I know, but you need to look perfect. Not that you aren't beautiful already." she replied.

"It's the king, I understand I need to look good but it's not as if he's asking me to marry him."

Mother didn't reply, but I felt her freeze before quickly continuing with her braiding. I grabbed her hand behind me, suddenly feeling much more nervous.

"Mother, he's not asking me to marry him."

She shooed my hand away, tugging harder on my hair."I'm not stupid girl, I know that look in his eye."

"So he wants to fuck me-ow!" I steadied myself as she pulled harder on my hair.

"Don't talk like that. (Y/N), I wouldn't make you do all this if I didn't think he wanted something. Not that you have to go through with anything unless you want to."

"Mother..."

"He is a handsome man, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes."Yes, I suppose he is."

"Right, get dressed. Now you have a reason to wear your best dress."

I couldn't believe how shaky my hands were as I approached the town hall. Dusk was falling, the last of the warm sun basking over the town, casting shadows that used to scare me as a child. But I felt a lightness draw from me too, as if my innocence was disappearing (not that I had a lot of that left anyway). Two guards stood outside the doors, opening them as I approached. And there he stood, goblet in hand as he turned around to see me, looking me up and down.

I waltzed in, letting a servant take off my cloak and hand me a drink. Harald was beaming, and for a moment, I didn't have any impure thoughts. He looked genuinely happy to see me.

"You look like a goddess." he said as we hugged.

"Thank you. I hope you didn't dress up just for me."

We sat at the table, him at the end and I just beside him. The thralls served our food, and as soon as our cups we refilled, Harald dismissed them. Again, it was just us, and I felt excitement bubble up inside me.

"Is this the best food you have ever tasted?" he asked, leaning over slightly.

I swallowed the food, not showing my satisfaction."If you're trying to flirt then it's not working. You're gloating."

"I do not mean it like that. It's surely a treat, no?"

"Yes, it is. So come on then, what do you want to know about me?"

"How come you've never left your home?"

Not the type of question I thought he would ask.

"You know why, we spoke of this the other night."

"But imagine if your parents were not here. If you were a completely free woman. Would you still be here?"

I thought for a moment."No. But I couldn't go raiding, I'm not a fighter. And I know nothing of healing, so I wouldn't be able to help there."

"Why not just explore?"

"I've heard many stories about exploring, almost everyone of them involves fighting."

"What if you were with a band of people who could protect you?"

"You are asking many questions tonight Harald."

"I said I wanted to find out more about you."

"I have lived here my whole life, it has only ever been me, my father and my mother. We lived off of father's earnings as a carpenter, it was good money. I see the same people say in and day out, everyone knows who everyone is here. And that's it. That's my life. I know you thought you would find out something interesting about me, but the only interesting thing to happen around here is your arrival."

"Maybe that means a big change is coming your way. Something exciting for you."

The night didn't end how I expected it. We kept talking, somehow finding hundreds of things to speak about. I had been wary of his hands, watching them closely. Part of me was ready to swat it away, the other wanted it to freely roam. I was being irrational, but I guessed that my indecisive mind was due to the fact that men rarely took notice of me...or men that I actually like anyway.

It surely was a pleasant evening. He kissed my cheeks as we bid farewell, instructed two guards to take me home and that was the end of our evening together. Mother had stayed awake (though insisted she was asleep the entire time), bursting out with questions as soon as I stepped foot inside. Once I had satisfied her with my answers about how absolutely nothing happened, she set me free and I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted from the confusing feelings within me. Why was Harald doing this? Was he expecting us to fuck? Did he really want to know who I was?

It was the second day of working on the ships, and my group had a very basic structure up. I and other detailers started carving where we could and where we wouldn't get in the way. However, I was slower than usual, my mind occupied with thoughts of the king. I hadn't seen him that day, but I couldn't expect him to visit all the workers every day.

"Alright, I think that'll be all for today men." I yelled out, and they all immediately stopped."Head on home and get some rest, I want you here the same time tomorrow."

There were positive shouts, men laughing with each other as they slumped away, tired from hauling all the woodwork and from the concentration all day. I said goodbye as they passed, still working on my carving.

"Would you like any help (Y/N)?" someone asked.

"No, thank you. I'll only be five more minutes."

They nodded and left, joining the cluster of men that were slowly becoming more and more quiet. I could still see them in the distance, but their voices had disappeared. Taking a deep breath, I raised my knife once again, desperate to finish my design.

"You have already outdone yourself," Harald's voice boomed from behind me,"and you haven't even finished the ship."

Although I was startled, I luckily didn't tarnish my work. Scraping off one last piece of wood, I blew away the dust, standing back as I checked over my work. Perfect.

"Thank you my king. You have chosen excellent workers." I smiled as I turned around.

He was closer than expected, gently brushing against my shoulder as he walked towards the ship. His hand ran over the carving, before heading inside the skeleton of the ship.

"How have you been today?"

"Oh, um...fine your majesty."

"Good. Did you enjoy last night?"

Straight to the point. Good.

"Very much. It was a shame that it had to come to an end."

He finally faced me again, a sly look appearing."It didn't have to. You should have said."

"That would make me a hypocrite."

"Why?"

"Because I said I wouldn't get on my knees for the king."

He slowly stepped towards me."Has your mind changed since then?"

"I think respect goes both ways. I've bowed for the king, he had yet to bow before me."

He laughed, and I couldn't help but smiled."Where has this sudden boldness come from?"

We were now inches apart."I honestly don't know. But you're on my mind all the time since we met those few days ago. It doesn't make sense. I shouldn't be this stressed over a man."

"I am not just a man, I am a king."

"Even if you weren't a king, you're something new, and that something new has taken an interest in me. But I'm not interesting."

Harald's hand reached up, pushing back my hair over my shoulder before running the back of his hand down my cheek.

"You have something enticing about you. How your mind works interests me. Perhaps it is your craft, your commitment, your smoothness. I don't care that I haven't figured it out yet, because I think that if I do, I won't have a reason to be around you anymore."

"I never wanted to rush into anything. I didn't want to come off as easy. But you're the most intriguing person I've ever met. Harald, why did you invite me to dinner?"

"I needed you there, I needed to know more because I too couldn't stop thinking about you. I told you I don't know a lot about women, but something has set on fire within me, and I feel that if I'm not around you, it'll go out."

"Let's stop talking in riddles and beautiful phrases. Harald, I want you to kiss me."

Less than a second passed before he grabbed my waist, pressing his lips against mine desperately. I tightly wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, pushing my body against his. I hadn't realised how much tension had built up until I felt my body relax, relishing the feeling of his fingers gripping onto my skin.

As we broke away panting, I stared into his beautiful eyes, surprised by how forward we both were.

"I am not here to take advantage of you." Harald said."But I feel that if I don't take you now, I will go berserk."

I bit my lip, feeling my stomach twist with excitement."Fuck what I said earlier, I need you as much as you need me."

He hungrily kissed me, cutting it short before I could deepen it. We both laughed as he dragged me away from the skeletons of ships, towards where he was staying. This wasn't a bad thing to do, it was fun and adventurous; it felt exhilarating, fresh, new! No other man had made me feel like this, not even my first love. I wasn't sure how a king and the daughter of a carpenter fixed together, but somehow it worked with us, and I was desperate to see where this would take us.

#Harald finehair #harald finehair #harald finehair imagine #harald finehair imagines #harald finehair one shot #harald finehair x reader #Vikings #vikings fan fic #vikings fan fiction #vikings fanfiction #vikings #Vikings imagine #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings one shot #vikings x reader #harald vikings

202 notes · View notes