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thepixelelf · 1 year

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Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.

Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.

Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.

It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.

You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.

A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.

Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.

With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.

Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.

Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.

“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”

Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”

And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.

He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.

Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.

He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.

Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.

It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.

•

Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.

It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.

So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.

And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.

You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.

•

There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.

You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.

Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.

He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.

“You know you’re an idiot, right?”

Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.

“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.

Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"

It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”

“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up.

“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”

“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.

“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.

“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”

“Twice?”

“Twice!”

Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.

“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”

Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.

Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.

“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.

Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.

“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.

“Uh... hi.”

“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”

You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.

Soonyoung picks later.

•

“So when are you gonna ask her out?”

Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.

“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”

Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”

•

You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.

The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.

He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.

Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.

“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”

The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.

“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”

And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”

Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.

But this isn’t a perfect story.

Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.

Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.

•

So, it’s official.

You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.

It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.

Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.

You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.

His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.

He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.

Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.

•

Jihoon likes you.

Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.

"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.

Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.

•

He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.

His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.

He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.

He hates how easy it is.

Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.

You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.

Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.

Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.

Sometimes life makes its own plans.

"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”

Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.

“No.”

It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.

"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."

Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.

"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."

Something about your smile haunts him.

It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.

For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.

He turns and walks to practice.

The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.

His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least.

Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.

[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no

[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?

Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.

He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.

Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.

He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.

•

How much longer is he going to let this go on?

Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.

This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.

Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.

Just like last time.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.

He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.

"I'm fine."

But he's not fine.

He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.

Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.

Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.

What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?

You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.

"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."

The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.

And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.

"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"

It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.

"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.

"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."

Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.

He needs a drink.

Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.

Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.

Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.

"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.

"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."

He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...

Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.

"You have to end it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."

"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.

"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."

He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.

"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."

"We'll see about that."

Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.

He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.

When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.

"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.

Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.

He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.

This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.

Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.

He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.

•

You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:

“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”

At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.

Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.

Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.

You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.

It’s been about a month now.

Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.

Nasty business, it is.

Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.

You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.

Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.

“You’re unhappy.”

Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.

“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)

The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.

“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”

Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.

Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”

“About?”

Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.

So he lies. Again.

“Just the dance showcase.”

It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.

Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.

Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”

“...Okay.”

•

Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.

When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.

It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.

Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.

Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.

•

You tell him you might be in love with him.

He says he might be in love with you.

He’s never hated lying more.

•

Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?

His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.

Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.

“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”

Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.

Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.

When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.

“Uhh... it’s for you.”

Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.

Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.

Right?

He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.

Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.

“C’mere.”

You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.

Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.

“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”

He escapes to his room.

Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.

You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.

“What’s that?”

“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”

And he does.

Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.

His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.

It’s quiet.

Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.

His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you about it?”

He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

“I know, but—”

“You’re not.”

You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.

“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”

Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.

“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”

“Bad ones?”

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”

The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”

Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.

“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”

“Conniving?”

“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”

Soonyoung hugs you tighter.

“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."

Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.

“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”

You take a breath. Exhale.

“...worthless.”

Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.

“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.

“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”

“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”

You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”

Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.

“You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”

“Tonight?”

“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”

His eyes close. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”

“Why can I see that?”

“Because it’s true.”

You stay the night.

•

With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.

So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)

But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.

The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.

First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?

And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?

But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.

Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.

What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.

“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”

Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.

So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.

You send him a good luck text.

[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!

He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.

You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.

Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.

Maybe he can do this.

•

“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.

Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”

“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.

You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.

He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.

He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”

“Hmm...”

You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.

“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.

•

With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.

Oh. He forgot you’re here.

You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.

Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.

He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.

After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.

Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.

His hand would fit perfectly.

The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.

You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.

He closes his eyes.

•

The moves aren’t working.

The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.

Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.

It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.

That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.

That’s not what has him in such a state right now.

His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.

He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.

What is wrong with him?

He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—

He falls.

The music goes on.

Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.

Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.

Again.

He falls.

He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.

Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.

Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.

The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.

“Soonyoung?”

Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.

He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.

“What are you...”

“Minghao called me.”

In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.

When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.

His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.

“Everything.”

Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”

He nods.

First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.

“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Yeah, you are.”

He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.

“...Just hold me?”

And you do.

You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.

That’s when the dam breaks.

Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.

It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.

This is what it’s like.

Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.

You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.

He’s going to be okay.

For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.

You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.

His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.

“Look,” you whisper.

It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:

Go get ‘em, tiger!

You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”

Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.

His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”

Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”

Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.

“Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.

“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”

“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”

You smile. “Okay.”

As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.

Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.

“I’ll be outside, okay?”

Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”

“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”

Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.

“Do you know how I feel about you?”

“Hmm, do I?”

Do you?

“Stay.”

And you do.

•

Here’s the thing about dance showcases:

They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.

Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.

A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.

“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.

She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.

“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”

For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.

You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.

The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.

Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.

But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.

Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.

He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.

The space takes him. He lets it.

And then it’s over.

Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.

He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.

I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.

A little box?

You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.

I thought you said you didn’t have the words?

I don’t. Not enough.

Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.

At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.

Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.

He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.

Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks.

He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.

She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.

“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”

Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.

“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”

Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.

“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”

Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.

Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.

He kisses her.

God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.

And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.

The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.

Until, of course, it ends.

Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”

Someone clears their throat.

Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.

And you.

You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.

It’s not so dramatic as the movies.

Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.

He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.

There’s something you should know.

Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.

He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.

Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.

Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.

It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.

Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.

It’s over.

When was the last time he thought about how it would end?

He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.

He leaves your bouquet on the counter.

His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.

Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.

When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?

Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.

The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.

“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.

Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back.

“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”

So they don’t know. Not really.

Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.

No answers are really given.

The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.

Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.

Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.

“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.

He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.

“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.

Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.

He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.

The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.

He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.

You’re there.

A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.

His held breath escapes him, and you look up.

“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“I...”

“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”

Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.

“...I see.”

You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.

“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.

Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.

He doesn’t know.

Can any of it be real?

You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.

“Guess not.”

You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.

Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”

It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.

“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”

Everything?

“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”

A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.

“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.

Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.

•

He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.

Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.

Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.

Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.

•

Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.

Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.

But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.

•

please let me explain

I’m sorry

it’s been a while, but still

I’m sorry

[🍥] Explain what?

[🍥] ...

[🍥] Soonyoung?

sorry I just

I wasn’t expecting you to answer

[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have

wait

I’m sorry

[🍥] So I’ve heard

I just want you to know why what happened, happened

[🍥] But I already know why

it’s not that simple

[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage

[🍥] ...

[🍥] No answer, huh?

[🍥] So it really is that simple

please wait

I’m just trying to figure myself out

[🍥] Let me help you

[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life

[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back

[🍥] So just let it go

[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened

what if I can’t

[🍥] I don’t know

[🍥] Figure it out, I guess

[🍥] But do it on your own

•

Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.

He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.

When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?

He doesn’t know.

•

[Minghao] You should tell everyone else

why

[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?

I don’t know

[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation

[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?

does it even matter anymore

[Minghao] It’s your choice

[Minghao] You just have to make it

then tell them

I don’t care

[Minghao] Are you sure?

tell them

•

These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.

You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.

The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.

Where does the time go?

With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.

The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.

Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.

“Minghao called me today,” he says.

Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”

Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

“I just have a question.”

Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”

“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”

“Acting like what?”

“Like a dead man walking.”

Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Excuse me?”

Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”

“What else would it be?”

This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.

“Look, I already—”

“Just do what I say.”

Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”

Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.

“Stand right there.”

“...What?”

Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.

Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”

Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.

This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.

“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”

“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”

“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.

“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”

The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.

“What?!”

“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”

“I—”

“Scream!”

And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.

But it feels good.

No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.

He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.

This is what it’s like.

Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”

Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.

“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”

•

That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.

Go get ‘em, tiger!

He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.

Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.

The one that still smells like you.

•

He cries. (For the second time since you left.)

•

After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.

Turns out, it takes a coffee.

Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.

You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.

He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”

Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”

“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”

Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.

Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.

What will it take to see that again?

What will it take to hold you again?

His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.

You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.

“Hi, what can I do for you today?”

If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.

“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”

“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

“But there’s something I need to say.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”

“It’s not that,” he argues.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”

“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”

“Soonyoung.”

He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.

Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?

“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”

He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”

“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.

“Yes?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

•

[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance

this is real right?

[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking

all of a sudden??

[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should

[🍥] And I think I should too

[🍥] But it’s hard

[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet

will you meet me?

I want to see you

[🍥] Can you give me some time?

yes

all the time you need

but will you?

will you meet me?

[🍥] I don’t want to

[🍥] But then again, I do

[🍥] Just give me some time

•

A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.

Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

It’s only been two days.

Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.

He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.

At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”

Fine, whatever.

Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.

There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.

Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.

He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.

Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.

You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.

It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.

“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.

He hopes it isn’t just hope.

He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.

“Hi.”

You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.

“Is it time?” he asks.

“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.”

“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”

You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.

“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”

The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“You think you are?”

“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”

“I guess so.”

“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”

You laugh too; his heart blooms.

“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”

“I think I can do it.”

“You think?”

“I think really hard.”

Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.

You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.

“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”

“None of what we had was easy.”

A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”

“I’m—”

“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”

Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.

“...just hold me?”

And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]

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ato-catto · 1 year

Text

Due to popular vote:

Broly x Reader

Gentle.

"Be gentle." You soothed, handing the small animal into Brolys large hands.

You have been showing the tall saiyan around your home- and the woods stretching out beyond it. After so long on Vampa- and then Beerus World, he had had little opportunity to encounter the cyber things in life, and you where eager and determined to show him.

His dark eyes widened as the small white bunny organised all four fadded feet in his palm, before settling down to lick itself.

"What.. is it doing?" He asked, his tone low and soft.

"It's grooming itself." You smile, watching his face contort into an amused confusion.

He brought the bunny to eyelevel and watched with intruigement as it scooped its tongue over tufts of white fur.

"Strange.." he murmered, before the bunny- seemingly offended- hopped away.

"Off he goes." You smiled, crossing your legs on the grass under you. Broly sat back on his heals and watched as the bunny dissapeared under a bush, with a slightly solemn expression.

"Did I scare it?" He asked, turning to look at you.

"No. I think it just got bored." You smiled, leaning back on your hands.

"Oh.." he turned back to the bush but the bunny was long gone, leaving nothing but a dent in the grass behind.

You sat with him in silence, the warm sun beating down on your faces. The warmth brought a peaceful look to his usually solemn face, which sent happy flutters through your stomach. He closed his eyes and titled his face up to the sun, his shaggy hair falling down his shoulders. He let out a slow, contented breath and his shoulders relaxed, listening to the gentle chirp of the birds around him.

You smiled, watching him. He deserved the world- a gentle giant given the worst start to life.

He opened his eyes and turned to you, catching you mid-stare. Broly looked at you, as if to say 'what?'

You felt your cheeks heat into a blush, and turned to look at the grass.

"Is there.. something on my face?" He tilted his head. "Y/N?"

You couldn't look back at him, caught off guard by the sudden beating of your heart and the red raising to your cheeks. He looked.. glorious in the sun. His tan skinned glowed a delicious honey gold, and his dark eyes shimmered.

"Y/N?" He repeated, now leaning closer to touch you and get your attention.

"It's nothing!" You chirped, turning to him with a smile. "You just look happy, and that's making me happy."

Broly frowned. He knew what a blush indicated- he had spent enough time with others at this point to understand body language cues- and he related blushing to being uncomfortable, or flustered.

"Oh..kay.." He tilted his head. Perhaps she was too warm, then? No, she was sat in the shade.

You purse your lips- he was still staring. Like he could hear your thrumming heart.

'Please look away- please look away-' you beg inwardly, curling your toes inside your shoes.

"Y/N." Broly murmered. "Do not lie to me, please."

You turned to find him giving you the most earnest look, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes.

"I... I'm not lying to you-" Your voice was thick.

"Mm.." He leant closer accusingly.

You instinctively leant backwards. "I swear!"

"You shouldn't swear on a lie." Broly raised his eyebrows slightly, his eyes flicking about your face, taking in your expressions. "I can see you blushing."

He was too close. "Broly.. stop. I'm not blushing-"

His hand slowly raised and touched your cheek. "Warm." He stated.

"Okay so perhaps I am." You pursed your lips. The feeling of his hand on your skin left tingles of electric coursing through your face.

"Why?" He looked at your mouth.

Perhaps it was just out of vague interest as you spoke, but the fact that he looked.. made you audibly swallow. "Because you flustered me. You looked.. handsome.. in the sunlight."

Broly blinked. "You think I am... handsome?"

You let out a shaky breath. "Yes.."

"Well you are pretty. Very pretty." Broly murmered, not moving back. "And you look pretty in the sunlight, too."

His soft tone melted your heart, an even more intense blush growing on your face, spreading to your ears, which made him smile slightly. He moved forward slightly, compelled by a feeling in his chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You were caught entirely off-guard, hands automatically coming to his face and eyes fluttering shut.

You both looked the picture, sitting there in the sun, the burly tall Saiyan on his knees, pressing a tender kiss to your mouth. And you, your hair catching the rays, your cheeks pink.

Broly felt the feeling in his chest grow, using his size to push you flat against the grass, his mouth dancing against yours. A deep rumble came from within his chest as he settled between you thighs and caged you between his arms on the grass.

Your heart was gushing over, the feeling of his weight and lips on yours better than a dream come true.

His smell was unique, indescribably earthy and soft on the senses.

Broly parted to breathe, panting softly, opening his eyes to lock on yours.

"Thank.. you."

#broly x reader #broly #dbs broly #dbz

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bakubunny · 7 months

Text

praise kink dialogue

here’s a list of various phrases i’ve found and reference often split into praises and what I would consider encouragements. i keep them together for ease of use. i’ve also broken down my process a little bit below that. these have been accumulated over time (and too much time reading through r/bdsmadvice). many are fem! gendered because that’s what i write most often, but that’s easy to change.

praise

“Good girl.”/“good fucking girl.”

“You sound so pretty when you cum.”

“I adore your obedience.”

“You make me so proud.”

“I’m so proud of you.”/“proud of you for taking my cock so well/(insert action.)”

“You’re a pleasure to use.”

“You know how to make your [dom title] feel so good.”

“You’re so beautiful when you struggle for me” (or pick an action)

“You’re the most valuable thing I own.”

"You open up so nicely for me."

“Quiet my love, I want to hear how wet you are for me, it’s intoxicating.”

“That never gets old, baby/(nickname).”

“Trying to buck up, kitten? Okay, baby. Take the reins.”

“You know just how to please me.”

“You love being a good (nickname/title) for me/(dom title), don’t you?”

"Those are such pretty sounds/I love hearing your voice."

"You're such a polite slut when I [whatever feels so good she stops bratting]."

"It makes me smile when you drip like this before I've even touched you."

"You look so silly and cute squirming like that."

“Such a good little listener.”

“You’re so smart.”/“That’s my smart (nickname).”

“There she is.”

“I love it when you cum for me/(insert action).”

"I think if you beg a little more sweetly, I might be convinced." (This one presents an opportunity for bratting so caveat orator)

"I'm sure you can get out of that restraint; such a big strong little toy."

"What you're doing with your [hips/eyes/voice/whatever] is so deliciously slutty."

“I love the way you look when you’re on your knees.”

“You’re the best good girl.”

“I love the effect I have on you.”

“I’ve been waiting all day to put my cock in you.”

“You’re a treasure.”

“You look absolutely perfect, all for me.”

“Look at you. Such a good little/pretty little (insert title or whatever).”

“You’ve waited so patiently.”

“You look so precious/(insert adjective) when you’re needy.”

“I love how eager you are.”

“You’re so good to let me take what i want from you/(insert action).”

“How could I say no when you asked so nicely?”/“How could I say no to my sweet girl?”

“Fuck, you’re so tight/big/wet/hard/etc.”

“That’s my girl”/“Atta girl”

“That feels nice, baby? Good. You deserve it.”

encouragement

“That’s it, just let go. Let yourself feel good, (nickname).”

“Good girls/boys don’t cum. Can you be a good girl/boy for me? I know you can do it.”

“You’re safe with me.”

“Say it/Do it. [dom name or title] wants to hear/see you.”

“Try again.”

“Ask for/tell me what you want.”

“Come on, you can do it.”

“Don’t be shy.”

“Use your words.”

on degradation: it’s also pretty easy to take a praise and make it humiliating or degrading if that’s what you’re going for. adding a degrading nickname/title is the most obvious way to do it, but some of my favorite ways are more subtle. using a condescending tone of voice, an aptly timed praise when the receiver is doing something gross/typically seen as humiliating or degrading, etc.

don’t like how something is worded? take it apart and rephrase it the way your character might say it.

phrase i found:

“Quiet my love, I want to hear how wet you are for me, it’s intoxicating.”

used for different characters or whatever:

bakugo: “shut your fuckin’ mouth, wanna hear how wet you are for me. ‘s perfect, princess.”

kirishima: “be quiet angel, you sound so pretty and i wanna hear it. fuck, you’re so wet, baby. i can’t get enough of you.”

aizawa: “hush, sweetheart. let me hear your pretty little pussy. it’s fucking intoxicating.”

daddy kink: “shh, shh. quiet, sweet pea. i want to hear how wet you are for me… it’s such a pretty sound.”

praise & degradation: “shut the fuck up. let me hear how much your pussy loves it when i use you. that’s a good whore, listen to how wet you are. such a nasty slut, getting off on this.”

etc. etc. etc.

i hope this is helpful for some of you! i threw this together pretty quickly, so if there are any really good ones i missed, feel free to add them.

tagging @dcsiremc because you were interested in seeing this <3

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #praise #dialogue inspiration #resources #millennialmagicalgirl #smut #smut resources #writing resources #fic resources

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ilguna · 4 months

Note

Could I get a piano session of "Suburban Legends" off of 1989 TV + Finnick Odair?

☼ suburban legends (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing,

wc; 2k

prompt; Piano Sessions: Suburban Legends by Taylor Swift.

There is nothing that can save the sinking ship that is your relationship with Finnick.

A part of you knew that you would not make it through the summer when you started dating him in the spring. As much as you would have liked for it to be false, realistically everything began falling apart about a month in. If you had tried to fix it then, maybe this wouldn’t be happening, but instead you chose to wait.

You knew full well what was going on between him and Daniah, even before you’d started dating him. The lengths he’d go, the hoops he’d jump through—just to be able to see her for a few hours. He was so careful to hide it from you, coming up with these excuses that could never actually be feasible.

You figured them out pretty quickly. And that should’ve been the deal breaker right there. You remember thinking it would be a better idea to end it than to continue to entertain him, or let him walk over you. If the thought of you being broken up didn’t hurt so much, you would’ve gone through with it, too.

You chose to forgive him, without ever telling him that you knew he was cheating. You wanted to initially, you spent nights rehearsing what you would say to him. You went through the phases of being angry, and then the sadness that came with it. While the infidelity would’ve taken the love out of anyone else, your heart beats for him.

Finnick is your best friend. Or rather, was. You trusted him, especially in moments that you never should have. He hasn’t done anything like that before, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. Whereas, if it were any other boy in District Four, you wouldn’t have let it get this far.

You never would have given them the light of day, but you handed it over to Finnick as if it didn’t mean anything to you. Lately, you’ve been blaming it on the magnetic pull that he possesses. He attracts a certain crowd, one that you shouldn’t classify in, but here you are anyway.

Finnick is—for a lack of a better word—cool. He earned that title sometime after he won his Games, proving to the rest of the victors in Four that he was more than just a boy. He’s one of them. He deserves a place in their stupid hierarchy.

And he got it, of course. Why wouldn’t he? Finnick set the record for the youngest victor in history, one that likely won’t ever be broken again. In his first year of mentoring at fifteen, he brought you home. Which held the attention of the Capitol for the next two years, shadowing over you. He became one of the most important Darlings.

In District Four, Finnick became one of those victors that no one could get too close to without getting anxious. He had everyone wrapped around his finger, whether he wanted them or not. Which allowed him to fit right in with the victors that made the important decisions.

Despite the many attempts you’ve made to join them, they never had room for you. It didn’t matter who’s ass you kissed, if you went through a whole style change, or if you were suddenly popular in the Capitol. They didn’t want you, not until you started dating Finnick, which then got you a rite of passage.

It was a blessing and a curse after that. As you spent every waking moment trying to brag the same way they did. You dug up every secret that you’d been holding on to for special occasions just to impress Finnick. To get him to look at you the same starry-eyed way that he saw them.

The way he sees Daniah.

She’s everything that you’re not, you can see that now. She won a couple years after you did, when there was finally enough spotlight to share. She’s got the same air around her that Finnick does. They’re practically the same person, which must be why they get along so well.

But you know what they say, right? Opposites attract. They can teach each other new things, and give new opportunities. Even if they aren’t really meant to be together. Except, the only one benefitting in this situation is you, and it’s not even what you want.

You want Finnick. You want him to love you and no one else. Is that really too much to ask for?

“Are you enjoying the party?” A hand wraps around your waist, snaking to your stomach as Finnick pulls you back into him, leaning over your shoulder. “Because it looks like you’re planning an escape.”

It wouldn’t be the first time you came up with an excuse to get out of a house party like this. You don’t know why they insist on having one every weekend, they turn out to be the same as the party before. They aren’t even the talk of the district like they used to be.

“I’m having fun.” You ignore his comment, twisting in his arm to look at him.

Finnick’s curls are damn near perfect this evening, he must’ve washed his hair this afternoon to get them to look so good. Before you became his girlfriend, his bronze hair used to be a frizzy mess, unsure of how to take care of it. You taught him a different routine, and ever since, people can’t seem to keep their hands to themselves.

Neither can you.

You fix the few on his brow, he lifts a glass to his lips, tilting his head back to finish the cup. It’s likely a mixed drink, he told you earlier that he wasn’t feeling the classic drinks. It doesn’t seem like a big change, but to the people in this house, it will be.

Finnick reaches for a coaster with two of his fingers, placing it on the glass table before setting his cup on top of it. He then turns his attention to you, free hand cupping the side of your face, swaying with the music. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, gazing into your eyes.

With the two of you in your own bubble, you shift in a small circle. He holds you close to his chest, his hand rubbing your lower back. While your body begins to warm up with the love radiating off of him. How are you supposed to believe that he doesn’t want you too, when he does something like this without being prompted?

He leans forward, stealing the last of your space, lips coming for yours. You suck in a breath, wanting to dodge the kiss, because you know that it’s a bad idea. If you want to break up with him tonight, then you can’t push it. You can’t test your limits again.

It’s too late.

Finnick stops moving when his lips press into yours, wanting it to be soft, gentle. You can feel your heart skipping beats, excited that he’s touching you this way. And when he pulls back, your bones ache for more. You even catch yourself thinking that you could do this forever with him. Nothing has to change.

You could go to the Capitol together, hand in hand, showing everyone there that he’s yours. That you managed to catch the boy that they can’t get to stay. He wanted you, a girl that’s nothing like them or anyone that he surrounds himself with at home. A victor, but a lesser known one. One that doesn’t mind being quiet, one that’s fine with being overlooked. You would forget about everything else, including the way they treated you.

But you can’t, and you won’t.

“Finnick, we need to talk.” You tell him, hands loosening from his shirt. “And I’d rather do it in private.”

“Is everything okay?” He asks, face twisting with worry.

You press your lips together, which is telling enough to Finnick, because he takes your hand tightly to guide you through the packed house. This week, the party is being hosted at his place, which means that no matter where you go, the conversation won’t be interrupted. His people are too polite to go wandering and snooping where they shouldn’t.

He brings you upstairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He lets you step inside first, where you get an eyeful of his unkempt bed while he shuts the door. A bed that the two of you have shared. How many times has he brought Daniah here, too?

“Are you feeling alright?” Finnick asks, coming around.

You shake your head, “No, Finnick, I’m not.” You meet his eyes. “This isn’t working between us.”

His eyebrows twitch, his cocking to the side briefly before he straightens up. He breathes out a laugh, reaching for you. “What do you mean, (Y/n)?”

You avoid his hands, pushing them away. “I mean that we’re in two different places, and I am not what you’re looking for.” You watch his face smooth out, beginning to understand. “I don’t belong here.”

“You don’t have to belong here, (Y/n). Not as long as you’re with me.” He sighs. “And you are what I’m looking for. We wouldn’t be dating if I wasn’t.”

“Daniah.” Her name slips from your mouth before you can catch it. Finnick visibly pales. “Cayden, Sitara, Emrin.” You list. “Are they also not what you’re looking for?”

“They mean nothing to me, honey.”

“They mean enough, if you’re sneaking away to be with them everyday.” You hold up your hand. “I’ve already made up my mind. We’re finished.”

“I haven’t talked to them in a very long time.”

“A week is not a long time.” You point at him.

“Since we began dating in March?” He challenges. “I stopped.”

“You can’t lie to me, Finn. I’ve known this entire time. I’ve just been ignoring it because I couldn’t stand the idea of this ending.” You motion between the two of you. “But I’m over it now. I’m over the lying and the dodging and the stuffy parties.”

You back up for the door, hand reaching for the knob. Finnick is shaking his head, following after you. “You can’t just leave, (Y/n).”

“I am.” You tell him, stepping out.

“You’ll come back.” He tells you, and it’s not because he’s being confident. There’s a look in his eyes, “We’ll get back together. There’s something between us that won’t keep you away.”

He must know this is a chink in your armor, because you hesitate for a second. Does he think about you the same way? You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts.

“I’m not coming back.”

You turn for the stairs, heading down them quickly. Thankfully, the door isn’t too far from the bottom step. You squeeze between the nicely dressed upper-class, passing the glass table with Finnick’s empty cup. Once you make it to the front door, you know that you’re safe, because he won’t risk chasing you out.

The warm summer air feels nice against your face. You leave the house, and when you swing the door shut, you lock your composure inside by accident. Unable to retrieve it, you let the tears build in your eyes as you leave Finnick’s porch, heading for your house a good number of feet down the sidewalk.

This was the right thing to do. You had to break up with him, because he never would have done it. He had himself convinced the same way that you did, he would have let the two of you drown if it meant you stayed together. As if he couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you.

For your sake, you hope that he’s not right. You don’t want to run back to him.

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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annymation · 2 months

Text

The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 15- At All Cost?

Chapter 14

Asha is now in the middle of the wishes room, staring at the queen standing on the king's study.

She feels her heart racing for a moment, she's scared... But then she remembers what she's holding right now, her sketchbook and her magic pencil.

She has nothing to fear, if anything, it's the queen who should be scared.

After glancing at the objects in her hands, Asha takes a deep breath and calms down, and faces the queen boldly.

The queen smiles at that, as she begins to speak with her usual honeyed voice "Hello dear, such a pleasant surprise to have you back so soon." She looks down to Valentino, the goat in cowering between Asha's legs and shaking in fear at the sight of the lynx next to the queen, her smile widens "Awww and you even brought a little snack for my pet, how thoughtful." she lets out a quiet chuckle.

Bravo is salivating, staring at the baby goat with predatory eyes.

Asha starts to think on what she can draw, the queen hasn't moved yet, so maybe she can ramble with her for a bit and then catch her off guard...

Asha realizes how the queen looks older than the last time they've met, not too old, but the white hair streak and the subtle wrinkles on her previously perfect skin are noticeable... Just like Aster, she sees this change as an opportunity to make fun of the royal.

"Yeah, glad to be back. Though I thought my last visit here in the castle was 2 days ago, but judging by your face it must have been AGES, huh?" Asha says with a smirk, knowing that would infuriate the queen.

And she was correct, for the queen's smile immediately fell into a cold glare.

(This is the closest I could find in the movie of Amaya looking evil)

"It is churlish to comment on a woman's age, have you no manners?" Her tone is condescending.

Asha simply smiles, seeing that struck a nerve "These are just the manners you deserve, "your highness"" She says the formal title with sarcasm.

The queen looks at her with a serious expression as she raises one eyebrow, almost impressed with how much that sweet and insecure girl they met changed so much in so little time... But her smiles returns slightly, because she has already planed on how to take all that courage out of her.

"You really think so? This way you might hurt my feelings, child..." She places a hand in her chest making a fake sad expression, that instantly returns to a wicked smile as she takes a potion flask from inside the front of her dress "Perhaps I should give you just what you deserve as well."

Asha notices the flask and instantly turns to her sketchbook to try drawing something "What a coincidence, I was thinking the same thi-"

But before she starts to draw, she notices... The floor she's standing on is covered with something... Something shiny, that look's like blue sand.

She glances around the room and sees that the whole floor around her is covered with a thin layer of this weird sand, Asha has a puzzled expression.

The queen notes her confusion "Ah, I see you finally noticed the fire salamander ashes, quite pleasing to look at how they sparkle, don't you think?"

Asha feels a chill run down her spine as she hears the word "fire" coming out of the woman's mouth "W-What?" She turns to the queen, and sees she's now opening a flask with an orange shinny liquid inside.

"Oh yes, it is known as one of the most inflammable components in the magic world, and it also so happens to have such a beautiful reaction when mixed with dragon's blood..." She explains like she's just sharing an interesting fun fact about her hobby as a potion maker, her tone becomes sinister as she opens the flask and asks "Would you like to see?"

"No- NO NO WAIT!" Asha screams in desperation, completely forgetting about her magic pencil as she takes Valentino in her arms to protect him from what she already knows is coming.

The queen drops one single drop of the shiny liquid on the floor, and a HUGE blue flame forms in front of her, spreading slowly to the whole room covered in fire salamander ashes.

(If you're wondering where the heck Amaya get's all these ingredients, let's just say that line she had in the movie about "Why a sorcerer needs what a sorcerer needs is not your concern" is a line Magnifico probably said to a lot of soldiers he sent off on dangerous quests over the years.)

The queen laughs maniacally as she snaps her fingers, making the huge door made of mirrors close in front of her, trapping Asha in the fiery room.

The flames are spreading and approaching Asha slowly, she thinks fast and pulls from her sketchbook the drawing of the flying carpet.

As the carpet flies out of the page, she jumps on it with Valentino. Now they're both safely flying above the flames, surrounded by the wish bubbles.

The queen has no idea they're safe from harm, and Asha smiles with that notion. She'll open the door sooner or later to see if Asha is dead, so all the girl has to do is play along and pretend she's in mortal danger.

"THERE'S SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH YOU LADY!" Asha yells from the carpet, trying her best not to laugh while faking she's scared for her life. Valentino also catches on to the plan and lets out some fake scared bleating, Asha pets him to show she's proud.

The queen falls for it, as she says in sarcasm "Who meee? Why, all I want is to give my beloved pet some freshly cooked meat" She's sitting down with her back against the wall of mirrors, as she too pets her lynx's head gently... Her eyes light up as a devious idea pops in her head, so she says with her words dripping with venom "...Besides, wouldn't you agree this is the most fitting end for you? To burn into ashes just like your dear mama and papa?"

Asha is stunned at the mention of her parents, but her surprise quickly turns into anger "Don't you DARE talk about my parents!" She almost forgets she's supposed to sound scared right now

"Awww sensitive topic, my flower? If it serves as any consolation, they would've suffered way more had I picked how to kill them." Her voice has a twisted sense of humor hanging on every word.

Asha's eyes widen "... Wait... What did you just say?"

"You see, Magnus has always been more of a "Get things done quick" kind of man, and although I love that about him, I oh so wish we had gone with my plan of poisoning their garden..." Amaya continues casually like she's just sharing small talk with the poor girl that is having this terrifying revelation unfold before her "But oh well, I suppose starting a fire with magic was simpler. Such a shame you weren't inside with them, would've spared us a lot of grey hairs." She says as she holds a strand of her newly white hair streak.

Asha feels her world crumble as she process what Amaya just told her...

All this time she thought it was just bad luck, that they had an accident with the fireplace or dropped a candle... But it was them...

Everything was because of them. The reason she never got to learn how to draw with her mother, the reason she never got to hear her father stories, the reason she never got to grow up with them, the reason she and her Saba were alone... It was all THEM.

Asha sees the fire consuming half of the room bellow her, the flames are reflecting on her eyes as she asks with her voice more furious than ever "WHY?! WHAT DID THEY EVER DO TO YOU?!"

The queen laughs at the question "You are just like them, darling. They were worthless little weeds festering in our garden, inspiring our roses to grant wishes by themselves. We simply had no choice but to root them out." Amaya explains with her voice turning more and more maniacal as she finishes "And now, it's your turn to join them!"

... That was the reason? Because her parents encouraged people to chase after their wishes? Her parents lost their lives... Because these two sickos wanted to control EVERY SINGLE PERSON in Rosas?!

Asha sees that the room is almost fully consumed by the flames, and so is her heart consumed by anger. So she lets out a scream, from the pain she feels in her chest and also to trick the queen into opening the door.

"AAAAAaaAaaaAAAAAaAAAH!!!"

The queen is content hearing the girl painful screaming, thinking that's the last sound she'll ever hear from her.

"It seems your meal is ready, Bravo" She says with a twisted glee while getting up, Bravo looks just as exited as his owner.

The queen snaps her fingers, opening the huge door made of mirrors. The whole room is covered in bluish flames. With one drop of another flask she had with her, this time with a blue liquid, the fire is quickly extinguished like the flame of a candle being blown out.

Once the fire was gone the queen expected to see the girl and her little goat lifeless bodies laying on the floor... But they're nowhere to be seen.

"... What in the-"

"Looking for me?" Asha's voice comes from above.

The queen quickly looks up, gasping in shock when she sees the girl flying on a magic carpet.

The queen barely has time to react before Asha jumps from the carpet, and with one swift move of her hand, points to the surprised lynx, wordlessly commanding the carpet to deal with him.

The carpet flies towards the queen, and she cowers in fear and closes her eyes trying to protect herself. But her eyes quickly open again when she hears her pet meowing desperately, the carpet took him and flew with him to outside the window.

(Ya know, originally I was gonna write a chase scene between Valentino and Bravo, but I realized we kinda don't have the time and I'm not feeling like writing that, soooooo I just throw the cat out the window instead. He'll be fine.)

"MY BABY!" The queen shrieks, worried sick for his safety

"Relax, I sent him somewhere safe. Unlike YOU, I'm not a monster." Asha sounds fierce but also with a hint of pain in her voice, like every word that comes out of her mouth gives a sting in her heart, as she's fighting to not cry in front of the queen. "Valentino, go hide while I deal with her." Her voice is serious, while she's flipping through the pages of her book, and once she finds the one she was looking for she pulls out a sword just like the one she used to practice sword fighting with Aster earlier.

The queen sees Asha doing magic in disbelief, as she's now walking backwards slowly shaking her head "no" with a terrified expression.

Asha doesn't hear Amaya whisper under her breath "That boy didn't say anything abo-"

The queen stops mumbling when Asha begins to run, charging towards her with sword in hands, ready to attack.

Amaya tries to run out of the way, but she trips on her own dress and falls on the floor.

Now, Asha is the one in control, pointing her sword to the woman laying down beneath her. Her enraged face shows clearly that she's after revenge.

Amaya for the first time loses her composure, and stutters in a desperate attempt to reason with her "A-Asha, now now ca-calm down, listen to me-" her voice is helpless.

"NO! YOU LISTEN!" Asha's voice echoes through the large room "All the pain and suffering I've went through ALL MY LIFE ties back to the two of you! All because you wanted to keep this SICK AND TWISTED sense of control over everyone in Rosas." She points the sword closer to Amaya's neck, the older woman is shaking "But guess what, no matter what you did, you could NEVER control me! I overcame everything you threw at me, and now, I'll make sure you two can NEVER hurt anyone else ever again!" Asha raises the sword above her head to strike down the witch-

...

But Asha stops.

She can't do it.

She's not like them.

Asha looks down on the queen breathing heavily and lowers her sword. She doesn't know if she's doing the right decision... But that's her decision.

The queen sees Asha's hesitation... And a smile slowly creeps in on the corner of her red lips "You can't do it, can you dear?... Because unlike me, you're not a monster." She repeats what Asha said moments ago with a faux soothing voice.

Asha quickly points the sword back to Amaya's neck, as a warning that if she moves Asha won't hesitate anymore, she speaks with the queen with a cold expression "I never intended to kill neither of you anyway, the plan was just to-"

"Apprehend us and have Rosas decide our punishment?" The queen finishes her sentence, now with a full smile. Asha's eyes widen in surprise "I must say, I found that part of your little plan quite adorable, so nice of you and your friends to show us mercy." Her voice mimics a sweet tone, dripping with sarcasm.

Asha feels a chill run down her spine when the queen mentioned her friends... This, and the trap that was set up for them in the kitchen... How did they know?

"How? HOW did you know we were coming?!" Asha tries to hide her fear, speaking angrily while getting the blade closer to the queen's neck.

Amable doesn't even flinch, she simply warns her "I'd be careful with that blade, my sweet. You lay one scratch on me and my darling king will be quite upset." That doesn't really phase Asha at all as she just squints her eyes at her, wanting some answers, so the queen gives her an answer "Let's just say a... Sleepy little pawn of ours made himself quite useful."

Asha's eyebrows scrunch in confusion, she thinks for a moment and... Realization hits her.

"... Simon?" Asha's mind is rushing, she's stares at the queen nodding positively in front of her, and she feels like she's the one who was cut by a blade... He betrayed them?... No, he wouldn't, the king must have forced him "What did you two do with him?!" She asks furious.

"Nothing at all, he ratted you out. For you see my dear, our "sick and twisted sense of control" you speak of runs oh so much deeper than you think" Asha is staring at Amaya straight in the eyes, so she doesn't see that the queen's hand is reaching for something inside the a hidden pocket inside her long skirt "You can't trust anyone in this kingdom, in the end, they're aaaaall just little pawns in our game of chess."

"You're wrong... Simon didn't tell you our whole plan. If he did then you'd have known about my magic." Asha says with certainty, not fully understanding what happened yet, but still believing that her friend at least fought against telling them everything.

"Indeed, he failed to mention it, which gave you an advantage... However, it hardly matters how many advantages you get, for when playing chess-" Her smile widens into a maniacal expression, and she raises her hand holding a potion flask that was hidden inside her dress "The QUEEN is the strongest piece on the board!" She throws it on the floor, it shatters, creating a cloud of thick blue smoke.

Asha coughs, that caught her completely off guard. She looks around and can see nothing but the thick blue smoke, she tries not to breathe too much of it in by covering her face. Still holding on to her sword tightly.

The queen is no longer on the ground, Asha can't see where she went... But she hears the sound of something made of metal hitting the floor.

She turns to the direction of the sound-

Queen Amable took a sword that was previously decorating the wall, and is now running to Asha ready to attack.

Asha gasps in surprise, raising her hand drawn sword to defend herself, and she succeeds. The two are now pressing their swords against one another, with the queen trying her hardest to get Asha out of balance to stab her.

The queen fights the girl with finesse and precision, like this is something she has experience with, while Asha's movements are more clumsy and rigid, but she's still more agile and relatively stronger than the older woman, since she was cursed and is now 10 years older than she was previously.

(Cute fun fact I guess: for the longest time Magnifico was a bit paranoid that if people found out they were evil and a "hero" could try to defeat them, so, just like how Asha practiced with Aster, he taught Amaya how to defend herself just in case anything happened to him... I hate them, but I also love them as a couple)

As their swords clash against one another, the metallic sounds echo through the room. Asha tries to show confidence, smiling while they fight "Y-you two won't win! Magnus doesn't stand a chance against Aster in the forest, he's gonna be here soon and-"

The queen can only laugh darkly as she speaks "Oh darling, it is your little star who doesn't stand a chance! For you see, dark magic is not be his only weakness! Hahaha"

Asha is still fighting, but her face looks concerned...

Aster's weakness?

Now... We cut to the woods.

We see a dash of light quickly flying through the trees, until they reach a specific one and flies to the top of it.

The dash of light is obviously Aster. He sits on a tree branch and knocks on the tree "He'll be here any minute now, you guys ready?"

From a role in the tree, two round shinny eyes open, and a voice comes out sounding mysterious: "Of course, a pleasure to be of service."

"Great, thanks again for the help fellas" Aster smiles excitedly, he looks down, just waiting for Magnifico to show up on the trail bellow.

... But then he hears something...

Instruments... Again.

The instruments sound slow, like they're warning Aster of something, and judging by Aster's annoyed face it's something they've already been alerted about before

"Yeah, I knooooow I can't let him get my magic. Don't know if you guys realize but that's the whole reason I'm trying to break that staff in the first place." Aster speaks looking up with narrowed eyes.

The instruments sound... Worried? I don't know how one would describe a worried orchestra, but it's like they're playing cautiously.

Aster this time responds calmer, trying to reassure them "I am being careful, I swear. I won't let him-" Aster stops for a moment and thinks... He doesn't actually knows what would happen if the king got his power, well, except for the part that without his magic he can't exist so the king would pretty much kill him. But Aster doesn't know what would happen to the king and queen... He might as well ask "By the way... Has that ever happened before? A human absorbing a star's power?"

The stars go quiet for a moment, before a single flute plays a small sad melody

"I see..." Aster has a worried face "And what happened then?"

Aster listens to the orchestra sounds, it's an ominous percussion mixed with some erratic violins.

Aster listens to it all attentively, his face slowly becomes more and more shocked, as if he's listening to something out of a horror story.

He slowly nods, humming a little with the concern now growing inside him too.

But then he hears one thing that gets his attention.

"Wait wait wait back up" The instruments all stop "What was that about "The human fell into madness"?"

A single cello plays a small melody... Aster's eyes widen.

"Huh, really?... I wonder if the king knows about that..." Aster ponders quietly. Then Aster hears a sound that is not instruments this time, but a twig breaking on the ground bellow, Magnifico's coming "And speak of the devil, that's your cue friends." Aster says knocking on the tree.

Down bellow, Magnifico is walking on the trail, with trees all around him. He's holding his staff over his shoulders casually as he singsongs to himself:

"Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder where you are..." the king looks around the woods... It's quiet... Too quiet. The star is plotting something, but that's alright, because so is he "Come out come out lad, we both know you can't hide from me the whole night long... I just wish to have a little chat with you." The king says in a faux friendly voice.

"Yeah you can keep wishing that but I ain't granting it!" Aster's voice comes from the tree tops

The king looks up with a wide smile, ready to cast a spell to capture the star. But his smile instantly vanishes as the green light from his staff reflects on many tiny eyes staring down at him, revealing that on the trees above there's a whole army of Genets ready to pounce:

(Genets: Slender cat-like nocturnal animals that can be found in Spain... Imagine a bunch of these fellas staring down on you at night, terrifying me thinks)

They all jump on the king, climbing all over him and scratching his clothes. Magnifico screams while holding tightly to his staff and trying to protect his already scarred face

"AAAAH GET OFF ME YOU WRETCHED- NOT THE FACE NOT THE FACE!!" Magnus is wobbling around covered in wild cats.

Aster lets out a childish laugh as he cheers while flying above the desperate king "Yes! Get the face everyone! And also those fingers if you can! Hahahaa"

The king turns red with fury "ENOUGH!" he uses his magic to throw all of them away from him, some genets scatter while others stay, ready to attack him again, but the king is having none of that "GET NEAR ME AGAIN AND I'LL MAKE FUR COATS OUT OF YOU"

The all get scared, and run away to the depths of the forest.

Aster looks sad for a moment but he has no time to think too much about it, for the king immediately turns to him and tries to capture him once more.

Aster swiftly dodges the king's magic and hides behind a tree.

He then shrinks down to the size of a hand. He's the size of tinker bell.

The king is catching his breath after all the commotion, but he has enough energy to scream some facts to the star "Just accept it, boy! You can't best me! throw me your plants and I'll burn them, throw me your animals and I'll scatter them!"

Aster face is deep in thought, he hates to agree, but they have indeed been in this game of cat and mouse for a while, and Aster is not even close to getting that staff, not to mention how they hate to put even more animals in danger...

The king upon receiving no snarky comment in return, calms down slightly, knowing that the star deep down is just as tired of this game as he is...

He reaches for something inside his vest.

"So how about we stop playing, and just talk things out, hum?" Magnus voice is once again "friendly" but with a clear ominous undertone.

Aster thinks... He might be able to catch the staff while the king is distracted blabbering whatever he has to say... So he plays along.

"You really must love the sound of your own voice, don't ya? All you do is talk all the time." Aster's snarks while hiding behind the tree "Fine, what do you wanna talk about so bad?"

We don't see what Magnifico pulled out his vest, but he's holding a small object on his hand. Looking at whatever it is with a mischievous smile.

"That girl... You love her, don't you?" The king asks nonchalantly.

Aster's eyes widen in shock... EVEN HE NOTICED?!

Aster knew he couldn't let this man know how he and Asha felt about each other, as he'd totally take advantage of that, so the star tries to lie "W-what?! What you talking about?! We-we like- We just met 2 days ago! That's crazy talk!" Aster is a terrible liar by the way.

Magnifico has a pleased smile, as he walks forward to where Aster's voice is coming from, he's holding his staff with one hand while hiding the other behind his back. "And I fell in love with my wife in two minutes or less, what's your point? Heheh" he chuckles like he's reminiscing of something, but then continues, sounding as if he's talking to a stubborn kid that refuses do admit something obvious "Come now, starlight. Wishing stars are supposed to only give humans some guidance, but here you are going waaay above and beyond your purpose, breaking all the rules for her... Because you love her~" He singsongs that last part as if to make fun of the star.

Aster is about to say something when he notices that Magnifico is getting closer to his hiding place, so he flies to the ground, still on his miniature size, trying to hide in the low vegetation and move to somewhere else.

Magnifico notes the silence, and just chuckles "Well, either I'm right, or you're just too incompetent to even guide her at all, aren't you?" The king says jokingly.

That strikes a nerve with Aster, as he's quite done with the stars calling him incompetent and naive for so long. The star is still hiding in his small size but his voice is just as loud as it would be if he was normally sized:

"You know what?! YEAH we are in love! And it's thanks to our love that we'll defeat you! Because we'll fight to protect each other, at all cost!"

The king's grin grows even more devious.

"At all cost? Hmm, how charming." The king coos, and we see him holding the mysterious object tightly and focusing to perform a spell... He whispers some words in latin:

"Ligneus. Pupa. Crescere. Et dolus."

Aster doesn't hear what the king just said. but suddenly, he starts to hear the stars all speaking with him at the same time, the instruments play alarmingly all at once. They're speaking over each other, so Aster doesn't understand, the star looks up in frustration and whispers "Guys o-one at a time please- UGH I don't understand nor have time to talk ri-"

"Did you hear that, Asha? I told you he cared." The king speaks sweetly with someone else.

Aster feels the world stop when he hears that name come out of the king's mouth.

Aster flies out of the bushes and sees it... Magnifico is holding Asha by her shoulder, she's tied up by a rope made of green magic, her mouth is covered and she's struggling to free herself.

The star doesn't even think before he returns to his normal size, their animation looking rough and sketchy as he yells "GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF-"

Aster sees a giant green hand made of light coming in his direction.

The star remembers he can't let himself get caught. In the blink of an eye he stretches his body down, like he's made of rubber... Get it? He's animated like a rubber hose cartoon for a second.

Aster dodges the king's magic once again and flies to hide behind a large tree.

"Ha! Almost caught you this time!" The king exclaims victorious while laughing.

Aster's mind is rushing with questions as he starts to panic... How did he get her? Is she hurt? Their plan went wrong? How can he save her?!

In the confusion that is their mind, they can't focus to listen what the stars are trying to tell him, the stars are just muddled voices to him now.

"I bet you're wondering how I found her, aren't you?" The king asks with a sadistic sweetness in his voice, holding the girl close to him "See, while you were flying away and hiding, like a coward, a guard came into the forest to tell me they found the poor thing lost in our garden" His voice is filled with a mocking fake sadness like he's describing a tragedy "And she just wouldn't stop calling your name... So here he is Asha, your daring "hero" hahaahaha!" His evil laugh echoes through the woods.

Aster didn't even know he could feel so much fear and anger at the same time. He places a hand on the ground and uses his magic to try attacking Magnifico with vines.

The king notices the plants beginning to grow next to him from the corner of his eyes, and his smile just grows as he says "Ah ah ah, I wouldn't do that if I were youuu~" He points his staff to her face, with the green gem shinning brightly and menacingly.

Aster can hear Asha muffled screams in fear, and he get's the message. He stops the vines from growing. The star looks down defeated.

Magnifico sees the vines retreating, and takes the staff away from her face "That's better. Now! How do you feel about a little bargain?" His voice is full of excitement like he's a con man ready to make a big deal.

Aster may be naive but even he knows where the king is going with this, and his not falling for it "Do you think I'm an idiot!?" The star asks angrily

"Why, yes! Very much so!" The king answers gleefully.

"You want me to surrender in exchange for Asha's life... But we both know your word isn't worth anything!" Aster is trying to speak boldly to mask how scared he actually is.

"*Gaaaaasp* You think I would lie?? Meeee??? I'd never!" The king says dramatically with sarcasm clear as day "Hehe jokes aside, I can assure you I NEVER break my end of a deal... If you don't break yours." He puts emphasis on that last part, he then begins to speak very quickly the terms of their deal "So here's the trade off, you surrender in, let's say, the count of 5, and in return I'll have your little doll here sent to some other kingdom where she'll be safe from harm and can live on to thrive and chase after her dreams yada yada yada happy ending! What do ya say? Come on."

Aster is too overwhelmed to think- He obviously can't trust Magnifico's word, but if they don't do as he says then Asha is done for- But who's to say she'll be safe later when the king has his mag-

"Let me make this easier for you... One"

The king starts counting.

Aster mind is spinning, he tries to think clearly, but his emotions are clouding his judgment. The stars voices are just white noise.

"Twooo"

The king prepares to use his magic on the girl.

Aster feels some tears form in the corner of his eyes... He promised Asha he would't let himself get caught but-

"Threee"

Aster hears Asha's muffled voice screaming for help, but not the stars above him...

He breaks his promise.

"ALRIGHT!" The star yells, flying out of their hiding place, with his hands up.

And before he knows it, there are glowing green chains on his writs that quickly pull him closer to where the king and "Asha" are. Once the chains are on him the sound of messy orchestra instruments stops all together, since Aster's powers are diminished by the dark magic, he can no longer hear the stars.

The star doesn't struggle, accepting his loss. The king pulls him in closer and closer until Aster is standing right in front of him, Magnifico looks down on him with a cruel smile.

Aster is not looking at him, his eyes are full of sadness and fixated on the ground, unable to face "the girl" the king's holding.

"Awww why the long face, little one? Here, she's free just as promised." The king snaps his fingers and "Asha" is free from her restraints, now just standing still next to him. "... Any last goodbyes before I send her off?" Aster doesn't notice but Magnifico is trying his best to hold in his laughter.

Aster can only look down, not wanting to face her yet, but he apologizes for not granting her wish "... Asha... I'm sorry... I tried everything I could but- I failed." a single tear runs down the star's face as he begs her "When you're away from here... DON'T come back, and DON'T look back... I just want you to be safe and-" Aster stops as he finally looks at her face.

It's devoid of emotion... And her eyes are soulless... Like a dolls eyes.

Aster is worried that Magnifico did something to her, he reaches out to hold her hand "Asha? What's wro-" but when he holds her hand... There's nothing... No star inside of her... That's not Asha.

As realization dawns on the star, Magnifico can't hold it in anymore "Pffft HAHA HAHAAHAHAAH HAHAHAAH"

With every "ha" Aster's face becomes more furious, both angry at the king and himself for falling for his trick.

"YOU LIED TO ME!" Aster shouts as he tries to get away from Magnifico, who simply pulls him closer by the chains so they're face to face.

"Did I? I thought I was quite clear." He smiles sadistically "I said I'd "have your little doll sent somewhere safe", remember? Aaaand" He snaps his fingers, and the magic that made up the fake Asha disappears like it was blown away by the wind, and all that is left of her is a small wooden doll. The same wooden doll Magnifico made for Asha all the way back in chapter 4.

(... Get it? He turned a wooden doll into a real girl... Like Pinocchio... Heheheheh *Jumps out the window... Gets back to write the rest of the chapter* ahem, anyway, congrats @gracebeth3604 you guessed it, I made Magnifico pull a Hades move on our wonder boy)

"Here she is!" Magnifico exclaims excitedly while placing the doll inside Aster's chained hands "She's all yours, lad! You can even choose where you want me to send her while we go back to the palace." Magnifico says like he's doing Aster a favor. He starts walking and pulling the star to come along.

Aster looks at the doll with rage and throws her away into the bushes.

Aster tries to pull away from the chains and keeps himself still with his feet fixated on the ground "I AM NOT LETTING YOU USE ME TO HURT THEM! IF YOU THINK I GONNA JU- GHHAaaAAaAAAaaaA!!!" Aster feels a shock wave of pain course his body as the king uses a spell to electrocute him, his animation becomes fully disjointed like he's struggling to keep his physical form. Once it's over, Aster can only kneel down in pain.

"Not so funny when it happens to you, is it?" Magnifico's eyes are now full of spite, highlighting the scar over his left eye "I've enjoyed this little game of ours but we really must hurry, I'd hate to keep my queen waiting... Not to mention, your girl is just DYING to see you too."

Aster is weak from the pain but he manages to look up to the king.

"W-what...?"

Did they get her?

We now cut back to the palace, Asha is still fighting with the queen.

The girl looks exhausted, swinging her sword around and defending herself from the unhinged woman. She doesn't have time to stop and take her sketchbook to draw something else to attack.

But Asha slips up, and Amaya manages to disarm her, throwing her sword away to the other side of the room.

Asha gasps in shock.

"NO!- UGH!"

The queen KICKS the girl's legs, making her fall on the ground, now their positions are reversed from how they were before.

Asha looks up horrified to the queen pointing the blade to her face, she's looking down on the girl with a smirk "So... Ha ha- how's that for an "old lady" huh?" The woman is panting like she could collapse from exhaustion at any moment, but she still keeps her composure as she threatens the girl bellow her.

Asha tries to reach for her sketchbook tied to her belt, but the queen quickly takes it off her hands. Asha doesn't have time to react before Amable throws it away to the other side of the room.

Asha is petrified, she has nowhere to go.

She can see Valentino hiding behind the curtains of a window, he's scared.

"You put up a good fight child, but I'm afraid this is where your story ends, with you... All alone." Amaya raises the sword to end the girl's life.

Asha can only close her eyes and prepare for the impact... Until she hears a familiar voice

"Think again WITCH!"

Both Amaya and Asha are startled by the sudden scream, however, a smile quickly appears on Asha's face when she sees who it is.

Amaya turns around and is quickly knocked out of balance by something pushing her to the side, away from Asha. The queen drops the sword on the floor.

What pushed the queen was Dahlia's crutch, as the girl is now standing in front of Asha offering her a hand with a relieved smile "Sorry we took us so long, you okay?"

"Better now you're here!" Asha hold her best friend's hand and goes in for a hug, feeling relieved to see her safe. While they hug, Asha opens her eyes and sees that behind Dahlia there's also Gabo, Hal, Bazeema, Safi and Dario. All of them glaring at the queen laying on the floor.

"Ho- HOW DID YOU BRATS GET IN HERE?!" The queen demands to know, her hair is partially covering her face, she looks like an absolute mess.

Hal points to the small elevator on the wall, used to get food from the kitchen straight to the king's study "Did you forget how you get your meals everyday?"

(How did all 6 of them fit in the elevator?... Same way they did in the movie, cartoon logic)

Amaya just groans in frustration as the teens walk closer to her.

Asha gets her sketchbook on the floor, she sighs in relief before saying with a smile "*sigh* Alright, just like we planned, everyone" She begins to draw some squiggly lines on her book, and as she touches the page the lines come out as long pieces of rope.

Her friends all get a piece of rope. And they walk to tie up the evil queen.

(Hahah get it? The 7 dwarfs references are the ones who save her from the evil queen! Heheheeh I love when references fit the narrative)

The queen's screaming for them to stay away from her in the background. But we focus on Asha, who's calling Valentino to come out of his hiding place.

The baby goat does so, rushing to her arms happily. Asha hugs him with a big smile "It's alright, I'm fine" She reassures him, and also reassure herself.

Asha looks around to her friends and notices... There's one missing.

"... So it was true" She begins to speak with Dahlia, the only one that didn't go help tie up Amaya, preferring to stay by Asha's side "Simon really did betray us..." She sounds hurt.

Dahlia places a hand on her friend's shoulder and explains "At first, yeah, he did. But who do you think pulled us up here?" She smiles at Asha, and gives her a wink.

Asha's eyebrows raise "Wait... So he changed his mind? How?" She asks confused

"Let's just say the king's mind control was no match for the power of friendship... Also Gabo kept screaming and swearing at him like a sailor." Hal said joyously.

"I told him bad words he didn't even know existed! And I'm literally younger than him!" Gabo says proudly while pulling a rope to tight up the Amaya's arms on her back.

"He can pull himself up the elevator, so he'll be here to help us pretty soon!" Safi comments.

Asha is happy that her friend came to his senses... But she still has a bad feeling.

"Did he say how much he told about the plan to Magnifico?" Asha asks Dahlia, with concern clear in her voice.

Dahlia's smile fades, she also seems worried "He doesn't know actually, he can't remember much about how the conversation went."

Asha looks down and thinks for a moment "... Okay, he didn't tell them about my pencil, so maybe he didn't tell them everything, we can still win." She smiles confidently.

Asha and the teens are suddenly startled once they hear a familiar voice shouting aaaaaall the way down the stairs of the palace:

"NO NO IT'S FINE, I CAN GET HIM UP THERE ON MY OWN! YOU ALL JUST SOUND THE TRUMPETS AND GATHER THE CITIZENS!" The king's voice echoes through the castle, he's talking to the guards in the entrance.

"Aster!" Asha exclaims worried.

The queen is all tied up, smiling in the background.

"I- I gotta go help him! You all stay here." Asha rushes to the door.

"Oh no we won't, we're not leaving your side again!" Dahlia exclaims holding her wrist.

"No, you don't understand, Magnifico CAN'T get even close to you all, not while he still has that staff, I won't let him hurt you." Asha explains to her friend with a serious expression "I'll find a way to save Aster and break it... Somehow." She doesn't sound so sure of herself, but she knows she has to try.

"And how can you do that?" Bazeema asks concerned

Asha holds her sketchbook and her pencil and starts drawing a key "I'll use my imagination" She smiles.

Asha pulls out the key from the page, she turns to tell her friends one last thing before leaving. But when she turns something catches her attention, on the king's desk there's a a small cloth bag full of blue sparkly sand, the bag is labeled "Fire Salamander Ashes". Asha takes the bag from the table and says quickly "Also this might come in handy."

She opens the door with her hand drawn key and tells her friends one last thing "No matter what you guys hear, don't leave the room." She runs down the long flight of stairs.

Meanwhile Magnifico is dragging Aster up the stairs, the king looks exhausted as he tries to perform a teleportation spell to get them to the top, but he can only teleport a few steps up.

"ARGH I'm gonna give myself a splitting headache because of you!" Magnifico says, with a hand over his forehead, he speaks to himself under his breath "Never had to teleport so many times in one day, thought such a simple spell wouldn't exhaust me that much..."

Aster hears that, he's still struggling to not get dragged away by the king as he exclaims "If just teleporting a bunch of times to get us here gives you a headache then you REALLY not gonna like what'll happen if you get my magic!" This isn't a bluff, but an actual warning, as Aster remembers what the stars told him... Maybe he can convince Magnus to stop "LISTEN! My powers may seem weak now, but even the most powerful of sorcerers couldn't handle the power of a star inside them, it's TOO MUCH for a normal human to handle!"

"Yeah well, good thing I'm no normal human." The king says with a frustrated expression while dragging the star up the stairs.

"YES YOU ARE, MAGNUS!" Aster screams, trying to reach out for some sense of humanity inside him.

"Don't call me that." The king warns sternly, he's not looking at Aster as he speaks.

"You only have power at all because of that green gem on your staff. And even with it, you're not strong enough!" Aster continues while still getting dragged by the king

"I'd really not test my patience right now if I were you, boy." He sounds more and more angry.

"I'm trying to save you! If just performing a spell way too many times gives you a headache then MY POWER will make you LOSE YOUR MIND-" Aster tries to spell it out to Magn-

"AND I WOULD RATHER LOSE THAT THAN LOSING THE WOMAN I LOVE!" Magnifico shouts, now looking straight to the star behind him, enraged in a way the star has never seen before.

Aster goes silent, staring at the king in shock and... For the first time feeling like the man was 100% honest with him.

Magnus takes a few seconds to realize what he just said out of anger and exhaustion... He puts himself back together, straightening up his posture and taking a deep breath, before looking down to the star with his usual smile full of sarcasm "Thank you for the concern, Aster. Really appreciated, but you have nothing to worry you shinny little head about" He taps on the star's forehead with one finger "I've already planned on how to get myself a-... Let's say a "Power boost" before performing the spell to get your magic humhum" He chuckles lowly, excited to show the star what he means by that "Besiiiiiides, all the sorcerers that tried to yield the power of a star only went mad because they tried to do it on their own, while I have someone to share it with."

Aster is dumbfounded... The king KNEW that the power of a star can drive someone mad... And he choses to go after it anyway because he THINKS that by sharing it with his wife they'll be fine?... Aster realizes he is too far gone.

"Nothing I say is gonna change your mind, is it?" Aster asks with frustration in his voice, the king simply shakes his head "no" with a smug "... Then you don't love her at all, you just wanna use her to get more power." The star says with a scowl.

The king is stunned for a second by the gall the star has to say that, before his rage comes back at full force, he doesn't take his eyes off the star as he makes shock waves of pain go through Aster's body again, the star kneels down in agony.

"ASTER?!"

Asha's voice comes from the top of the stairs, surprising both the star and the king, but they're surprised for completely different reasons.

Aster looks up to the top of the stairs with a huge smile despite the pain he's in right now "ASHA!"

The king however turns to her in bewilderment "YOU?! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALI-" He stops as he has a realization... His face turns into a cold glare, hiding a hint of worry in his voice "Where's Amaya?"

Asha ignores the king's question, as she's already drawing the first thing that came into her head to stop him.

She throws out of her sketchbook what she just drew and...

A hand drawn piano manifests right above the king

"WHAT THE-"

BLAAAAAAM

The piano fell on the king. And keep in mind Simon didn't mention the magic pencil, so from Magnifico's perspective Asha just randomly manifested a piano out of nowhere.

Aster is free from the king's restraints, and he quickly flies up to Asha and gives her a hug, Asha hugs him back and the two have a second to breathe and be relieved that they're both okay.

"I was so worried about you! Are you okay?" Asha asks holding his face with both her hands.

"I'm the one who should be asking that!" Aster sounds worried sick.

"I'm fine, the others saved me from the queen, she's all tied up. Now we gotta focus on breaking that staff" She looks down the stairs to the destroyed hand drawn piano that the king is under "Do you think that was enough to knock him out?"

Asha's question is immediately answered by the remains of the piano being engulfed by green magic. It begins to float as the king violently throws it out of the stairs.

(Yeah sorry, he's unfortunately fine, because cartoon logic and this ending would be underwhelming.)

They can hear the loud sound of the piano falling on the ground bellow, as well as the sound of the king practically roaring in anger. He gives the two teens a death glare while trying to stand up.

"NOPE!" Aster answers, holding her in his arms, Aster flies as fast as he can up the stairs, fast enough that the king doesn't have time to catch them with his magic.

He does however have enough energy to do one simple spell. He snaps his finger, which locks all the doors that lead to the wishes room.

Asha and Aster are in the treasure room, the dimly lit room where Magnifico and Amable sang "Wish Away" to her.

The two of them are startled when the entrance they just went through shuts behind them and one second later the exit does too, they're trapped in the dark and large room full of treasure exposed like a museum.

But Aster quickly comes up with a solution.

"I-I'ts okay, I can unlock the door!" The star reaches out to use their magic, but Asha holds his arm.

"No! We can't keep running away from him, otherwise we'll lead him straight to the study, to where my friends are." She explains to Aster with concern, but also determined to fight back instead of running.

"Then what do we do?" Aster asks her quickly.

"I- I... I have a plan." Her face lights up with an idea, as she holds the star's hands "I don't have much time to explain so pay attention-"

"Oooooh Asha~" The king's voice comes from the other side of the door, he's getting closer.

Asha holds the star by the wrist and guides him to hide behind one of the many artifacts in the room "Aster- Turn into your human disguise NOW." They're now crouched down, hiding behind a small pillar with an old vase on it.

Aster is confused "What?? But I can't use my powers when I'm in that form." Aster explain nervously as they hear the king's footsteps approaching

"You can't glow either, you need to stop glowing so we can hide in the dark." She whispers quietly, her glance is practically rushing the star to just do as she says.

Aster doesn't know what she's planning but he trusts her wholeheartedly. He quickly goes from a 2D drawing with shiny hair to a 3D animated character like Asha, with normal blonde hair.

"Okay, so what do we do no-"

They hear the door opening.

The two teens keep their mouths shut.

"... Playing hide-and-seek again, little star?" Magnifico's voice echoes through the room, he lets out a low chuckle and says "Alright, let's play one last game."

Aster and Asha are staring at each other, it's dark but they can see one another thanks to the dim blue lighting above the treasure they're hiding behind. They hear the king's foot steps as he slowly walks around the room looking for them.

Asha can feel her heart pounding, how can she tell the plan to Aster if they can't speak?

...

She remembers they both know how to communicate without speaking.

She begins to speak in sign language, Aster can see her hands under the dim light:

"I'll make a distraction, while you take this and spread it all over the floor when he's not looking" She signs and takes from her belt the bag of blue dust she took from the king's desk.

Aster doesn't understand what that is or how she can distract him at all, he signs to her back "How are you gonna distract him?"

She's about to sign to answer his question, but then the king begins to speak casually

"Ya know, Asha. I'm actually so glad you evaded Amaya's trap, truly I am." We see the king looking at his own reflection in one of the artifacts in the room, not really in a hurry to find them "For you see, I have a little secret I wanted to share with you... Wanna know what it is?"

Asha obviously doesn't respond, she's holding her sketchbook and pencil like she's preparing to draw something, she tries her best to focus and ignore whatever the king is talking about.

"Your grandfather's wish." Asha's eyes widen, she stops drawing "The very thing that started all this... Yeah, me and my wife miiiiiight have told you a little fib, shocker I know heheh" he jokes, as they both know all they've done is lie to her from the start "But I decided to come clean, since I happen to actually remember now what his wish was: "To inspire the people of Rosas with my songs"" The king quotes what the wish was, with a clear tone of disdain.

Asha feels like everything fell into place... Saba really was just like her... Or maybe she was a lot like him. This is probably the first time anything the king says brought her a sense of actual comfort.

Aster is surprised as he himself didn't know what Sabino's wish to the king was, but by pure coincidence it's the same thing he guided Asha to do.

But the king obviously is not sharing that to give her a wholesome moment or anything, he continues with a smirk "I'm sure now you see that I did him a favor by never granting that wish."

Asha's face becomes an angry glare. And she begins to draw something in her sketchbook quickly.

The king can hear the sound of the pencil sliding on the paper, and he follows it while speaking calmly "I mean, if I did grant it, he could've ended up crossing the line... Like you did."

Aster notices he's getting closer and looks at Asha anxiously as if to rush her to finish what she's drawing already. Asha looks like she's almost done.

"And when you cross the line..." Magnifico grin widens, he get's closer to the sound and...

He sees Aster dragging Asha to a different hiding place as fast as he can, but not fast enough.

Magnifico uses his magic to grab Asha with a giant hand.

"AAAAGH!" Asha screams as the king raises her up.

"NO!" Aster yells in desperation

"THERE ARE CONSEQUENCES!" Magnifico says with a twisted glee, and he throws the girl all the way to the other side of the room.

Aster runs to where she is, but to no avail as Magnifico holds him with his magic. The man is laughing maniacally as he walks to the girl.

"Ha ha aaah and it looks like I win our little game, now who would've thought?" Aster is struggling to free himself from the king's magic while Asha is laying on the floor, looking up in fear "But I'm afraid you won't get to see what happens next, my dear." He grins as he points his staff to her, but just when he's about to charge up an attack-

"W-wait!" Asha exclaims, looking up terrified "... Can I just a-ask one thing?"

The king raises one eyebrow "Your last words? Hmm it's cliche, but oh alright I'll allow it, what is it?" He asks with a relaxed smile.

Asha looks down defeated "I- I just wanted to say..."

She looks back up to him with a smug.

"I got way better at drawing self portraits, didn't I?" "Asha" asks full of confidence.

Magnifico's evil smile disappears, replaced by a face of pure confusion, completely taken aback by the girl's random comment.

"Wha-"

"Oh yeah! You look amazing, and I look pretty good too." "Aster" comments cheerfully, still tied by Magnifico's magic, but he doesn't seem to care at all anymore.

The king turns to the star in confusion, not understanding what these kids are talking about... But he notices something he didn't see before because of how dark the room is... "Aster" is black and white.

Before he has time to fully process that, the two living drawings smile at him while going from 3D animated, to 2D, to looking like rough sketches, until they both disappear completely.

... He got tricked.

"Hey Mag!"

Asha's voice comes from behind him. He turns around in shock, and sees the REAL Asha and Aster as standing in front of the now open exit. Aster is back to his 2D glowing self, and he's holding a now empty cloth bag.

The floor is shining with blue dust all over it.

"Here's a little trick your wife taught me!" Asha exclaims with a defiant smile, and she throws a hand drawn fireball from her sketchbook.

The fire hits right in front of Magnifico. A large black and white flame grows, it looks like scribbles one would draw on paper, but it shines and burns just as much as normal fire, and it's spreading all around him.

Magnifico get's so startled by the fire that he finally lets go of his staff for a second.

And that second is all that Aster needed. The star stretches his arm all the way to the other side of the room, grabbing the staff and bringing it to them.

(I mentioned on Aster's "How I'd Reimagine the Characters in Wish" blog that he could stretch his body, but he kinda never used this ability, so what better moment to have him use it than now)

"No-NO WAIT!" Magnifico is trying to avoid the flames as he begs.

Aster spins the staff in the air before HITTING IT ON THE FLOOR with all the strength he can manage.

"AAAGH!" Magnifico quivers and yells in pain.

The gem is broken.

Asha and Aster run out of the room, and Aster locks the door behind them with his magic.

They can hear the king's painful screams coming from the other side of the door...

The two run up the stairs that leads to the wishes room, Asha is breathless as they stop in front of the door of the king's study.

"... We did it? We won?" Asha asks almost in disbelief, but with a smile already beginning to form in the corners of her lips

Aster looks to the staff now with no green gem on his hands, and let's go of it, letting it fall on the floor, he looks to her with a bright smile "... Yeah, it's over!"

Asha hugs him and laughs in relief. Aster holds her tightly while spinning her in the air.

"That was GENIUS!" Aster exclaims once he stops spinning "You finally figured out how to draw yourself!" he sounds proud of her, as he knows that was a skill Asha always struggled with.

"All I needed was to understand what I was drawing... And now I do." Asha says with a warm smile, placing a hand on her chest, reflecting on how this whole experience helped her understand who she really is.

She pulls Aster by the hand for them to go through the door of the wishes room. "Come on! Let's go tell the others."

Once she opens it, they see her friends all around the door waiting for them, Gabo is holding the sword Amaya was fighting with earlier, like he's ready to attack if who came in was Magnifico.

"ASHA!" They all scream in excitement and relief. Everyone rushes for a group hug

Including someone who wasn't with them earlier, but managed to pull himself up the rope elevator.

"YOU GUYS ARE OKAY!" Simon exclaims, embracing the whole group with his big arms.

Asha is smiling despite almost suffocating in the group hug "Heheh yup, we're fine, but we still got some wishes to free!"

Her friends let go of the hug, fully focused on the task at hand.

"Right! Aster, give us a lift to the ceiling will ya? There are some pulleys up there, that must be how we can open it!" Gabo exclaims, pointing to the top of the wishes room.

"Oh-ho! A few lift ups coming right up!" Aster says cheerfully, and uses his star dust on a few of the king's books, making them float to the wishes room, just waiting for the teens to get on them so they're lifted up there.

The teens run to the wishes room, Asha stays behind in the study for a moment to see... The queen is all tied up, looking at her in horror.

"Where is Magnus?"

If it was anyone else Asha would probably feel sorry for her, but this woman deserves no sympathy. So Asha just says with frankness "Burning down stairs. You're a widow, again. Consider that my wedding anniversary gift."

(Yeah I couldn't fit anywhere else so here's a reminder that back in chapter 2 Dahlia's mom said they had to go to the market to get her some ingredients, because she had to make a cake for the king and queen's wedding anniversary, and guess what? That is TODAY! So uuuuh yay tying up with the 100 anniversary disney movie theme... Also they kinda canceled the celebration for obvious reasons.)

The queen holds in a gasp, as if her cold heart just shattered.

Dahlia was next to her friend and is surprised by her tone "Woah Asha, I know she's evil but y-"

"They killed my parents, Dahlia." Asha puts it simply to her best friend while walking to the wishes room to join the others.

"THEY WHA- OOOH That's what you GET you WITCH!" Dahlia shouts in Amaya's face, now fully on board with Asha.

(I love that witch is the closest I can get to have them calling her the B word)

We see Gabo, Dario, Safi, Hal and Bazeema all being lifted up by the books, as there are 5 pulleys for each one of them to pull.

Aster is flying around the wishes, looking in amazement to the blue ones, and holding the green ones, which makes them turn back to their original blue color, un-cursing them. He is flying around repeating the process on as many as he can.

Asha looks up to her friends and the wishes, she smiles in relief that everything is finally falling into place... But then she notices Simon is standing in the corner of the room, his eyes are downcast.

Asha walks to him "Simon, you okay?" She asks him worriedly.

Simon doesn't even know where to begin his apology, for everything. He looks at her full of regret "Asha... I'm sorry, I am so so sorry." He begins, Asha looks to him and listens attentively "I don't expect you to forgive me. I was so scared that we could get hurt- I just- I couldn't believe that everything we knew was a lie" he begins to tear up "... And I wanted so badly to believe in him-"

Asha gives him a hug.

"... You were hurting in silence for so long because of the things he did... And I was too, we all were." Asha says calmly, trying to reassure her friend "What matters is that he's gone now, he can't hurt us anymore."

Simon has tears running down his face but he hugs her with a smile.

Aster flies closer to them, holding a wish bubble "And I think THIS belongs to you!" The star says warmly

Simon and Asha still can't see what's inside the bubble, but just by getting close to it Simon can feel it "My wish?" Simon asks in surprise "... No, I don't deserve it, I put all of us in danger and-."

"Everyone deserves to know their wish" Aster tells him with a bright smile "He tricked you, so what? Happens to the best of us, literally happened with me today"

"The important thing is that you see the truth now." Asha says, she looks at Simon and then at the wish with a smile, as if to encourage him to get it.

And he does so, reaching out for the bubble, and once he holds it reveals the image of Simon wearing knights clothes... Simon's smile is replaced by disappointment.

"Well... This is awkward." He says letting go of his floating wish "That's not what I wish for anymore... Guess I can't have it back."

"Hey now, that's not how it works." Asha smiles as she holds his wish "It's not about what the wish IS, it's about what it MEANS." She repeats what Aster told her back in the cave when they were talking about her wish, the star smile widens at that. Asha continues to explain "Sure, on the surface it may look like all you wish for is serve the king... But there's so much more to it than that." She places the wish in his hands "You wish to protect those you care about, like you've been trying to protect us this whole time, because even without your wish, THAT'S who you are. This wish is what makes you... YOU." Simon's smile returns "And NO ONE should live a life without being themselves fully." She finishes, her eyes sparkling with joy for her friend finally getting his wish back.

"... Thank you." Simon takes his wish and brings it to his chest, it is quickly absorbed.

Immediately there's a change in him, the bags under his eyes are gone, he gets a better posture as his back becomes straight, his smile widens once he realizes for the first time in 3 years he's not feeling exhausted.

"Woah... I forgot how this felt like heh" Even his voice is more full of life now.

"Uuuuh hate to interrupt the wholesome moment, but we're having some trouble up here!" Gabo's voice comes from above them.

Asha, Aster and Simon look up, seeing that the teens are struggling to pull the ropes to open the ceiling

"Do you think you can use your magic to open it, Aster?" Asha asks him

"Those panels are waaay too heavy for my dust to make them float..." They explain disappointedly

"We need more weight..." Hal says, she looks down and thinks for a moment, and an idea pops in her head "Alright! Who here ever wished to be an acrobat?" She asks them excitedly while preparing to jump with the rope tied to her hand

"What are you doing???" Safi asks her worried

"Follow my lead! YOOHUUUL!" She jumps with the rope, pulling the triangular plate from the ceiling right open.

All the teens understand the plan, as Dario doesn't hesitate and jumps right after her, followed by Bazeema, Safi and lastly Gabo.

The ceiling is open.

Asha is jumping with joy as the wishes begin to fly out of the castle.

"Well done guys! You're ready Aster?" She asks the star thrilled

Aster is just as thrilled as her when they answer "I fell down here ready!"

He flies up to the middle of all the wishes. The star focus his magic and opens his arms wide, magically turning all the green bubbles into blue ones.

The teens and Asha clap and cheer from bellow. While Bazeema is holding Valentino in her arms.

Aster looks beyond relieved he was able to actually do this... After this, Asha's wish will be granted.... And even if that means he'll have to leave, he couldn't be happier that he could give that to her.

Aster prepares to send all the wishes back to Rosas "And now! Time to return you all to who you belon-"

(*siiiiiiiiigh* ... I hate myself for what I'm about to do with these kids)

...A giant green orb holds all the wishes...

Aster sees he's surrounded by dark magic. He is mortified by fear.

And so is Asha as we see her and the teens looking up in horror... The magic that created the orb came from behind them.

Asha can't move, she doesn't want to turn around, but she hears that condescending voice she thought she'd never hear again... And he sounds very excited about his big entrance:

"Surprise~ Did you miss me?." Magnifico's voice echos, and all the 7 teens turn around to see who they already know who it is.

King Magnifico is completely unharmed, holding the staff with no green gem on it with one hand, while hugging a now untied Amaya with the other, they're both smiling deviously at the frightened teens.

Asha hasn't turned around yet.

"I certainly did, darling. Although, I didn't doubt you'd come back for a second." The queen says honestly, as that heartbroken expression she made earlier was just an act, she knew Magnifico had a precaution in case they got his staff.

Asha finally turns around, she's trying to hide her fear as she speaks "How? W-We broke the gem from your staff, how did yo-"

"Oh you mean this gem?" Magnifico says casually while pulling a glowing emerald from inside his vest... The actual gem from his staff.

Asha is stunned, and so is Aster, watching them from the bubble, trying to get out.

"Fun fact about magic power sources, kiddos." He explains like he's teaching a class, while placing the gem back into the staff "Although it is easier to use them in an amulet or staff, if you have it with you anywhere then its magic can still be used however you please." He fits the gem back into its original place, finishing his little explanation "And that includes making it LOOK like the magic is coming from a fake power source, such as that one you broke down stairs." He smiles at Asha triumphantly.

"... You knew we were planning to break it." Asha already suspected it from the moment Amaya told her Simon betrayed them... But she was hoping maybe he didn't say that part of the plan, or the king was too full of himself to come up with a precaution.

The two royals are walking towards them as the queen says "Of course. Thank you so much for the tip, Simon, we really couldn't have done it without you." Her voice once again has a mocking motherly tone to it as she speaks to the oldest of the group, who looks like he wants to burry himself on the ground right now with all the regret he feels.

"I- I DON'T REMEMBER TELLING THEM THAT!" Simon exclaims to his friends, who are all looking at him with sadness in their eyes, except for Gabo who looks ready to kick his kneecaps

"Well you were rather sleepy, perhaps it slipped your mind heheh" The king's eyes glow green, just to indicate what he did.

The two of them are approaching, but Asha is not about to just stand by and let them win like that, she's in front of her friends as she prepares to draw-

"Ooooh no you don't." Magnifico uses his staff to snatch the sketchbook off her hands

"NO!" Asha tries holding it with all her strength, but it's no use, as the sketchbook flies straight to the king's hand.

And just like that, Magnifico summons a green flame with his hand and burns the sketchbook.

Asha feels tears form on the corner of her eyes as she watches all her drawings burn in front of her.

She still has her pencil though, which she discreetly hides inside her sleeve.

"Welp, this was fun and all, but I think it's high time we get to the main event of the night." Magnifico says as he and his wife walk, looking up to the trapped star above them, who has been throwing himself on the walls of the large bubble all this time trying to get out.

Asha wipes away the tears forming in her eyes, she's NOT letting them win, she's not letting them get Aster.

"ASTER! Can you hear me!?" The star stops trying to get out and looks down to her, nodding "yes". So she continues to shout "If you get ANY chance to escape, do it! GO BACK TO THE SKY!" She begs him, knowing that's the only way to protect him and Rosas "Don't look back! It doesn't matter if my wish isn't granted! I just need you to be safe!"

Aster is looking down to her already with tears in his eyes. She's saying pretty much the same thing he asked to that illusion the king created in the woods...

And said king is standing right behind her "Giving up at last? Good. But I'm afraid our star is not going anywhere." He grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her closer to him, threatening to use his magic on her while looking up to Aster with a threatening smile "If he does, I might take my anger out on someone else, and we wouldn't want that, would we Aster?"

Aster looks down shaking in fear, his animation is more sketchy... He can't do it, he can't leave her.

Asha get's out of the king grasp and turns to him in defiance, refusing to show weakness "I'm not giving up! And neither will anyone else in Rosas, even if you get Aster's power, they will NEVER knell to you!"

Magnifico and Amable just look really amused and even intrigued by her boldness, after everything she still has spirit... And they can't wait to break it.

Magnifico leans down to look at her angry eyes "You really think so?" His eyes move away from hers, and he changes his focus to the 7 teens "Hmm let's test that theory..." He begins to walk towards them, ignoring the girl "Ooh Simon~ I believe you just stole something of mine-"

Asha doesn't think twice before holding him by the cape and pulling it.

"Leave them alone! I'm not letting you hurt them-"

Magnifico holds her with his magic and THROWS Asha to the bookshelves on the wall, the girl screams in pain upon impact and falls on the floor.

Aster can't be heard from the bubble but he's clearly screaming. While the teens gasp in fear.

"Frankly Asha, you REALLY should start worrying about yourself once in a while." He says sarcastically while turning back to the other teens, specifically to Simon.

Asha is laying on the floor in pain, but she sees the books that fell down from the bookshelf... Paper.

That's all she needed.

"Now where was I? Ah yes, you stole a wish from me." He chuckles darkly and speaks in mocking reprehending tone "Tsk tsk tsk first you break your end of our deal and now this? Asha really is such a bad influence."

Simon is no longer scared, but rather furious with every word the king just said "This wish is MY wish! And YOU are the one who broke the deal! You said Asha wouldn't get hurt!"

"Ah ah ah wrong in both instances. First of all: I said IF you kept all your friends locked up, then I, as in ME, Magnifico, wouldn't hurt her... But my dear wife promised you nothing, sooo really it's your fault for forgetting she existed, young man." He explains smugly.

"Indeed, how dare you?" Amaya complements, like she's offended he forgot about her.

Asha is quietly ripping off a page from a book on the floor. She tries to think on something to draw... But nothing comes up, her head is pounding in pain after being thrown to the bookshelf. And all the ideas that do come in her head just sound too risky, if she messes up the king will break her pencil.

"And second of all: ... I believe you misunderstand what I actually DO, Simon. So allow me to explain." His voice is more menacing this time as he approaches them, Simon has his arms open to shield his friends behind him "When you give me your wish, you're not just lending it to me, no no no, you GAVE it to me... So I can do whatever I want with it."

That get's Asha's attention as she tries to get up, using the desk to balance herself.

"No one agreed to tha-"

"SO" The king interrupts Simon and places a hand on the young man's chest, surprising him and all the others "If I say I want to change your wish, I will. If I say I don't want your wish to be granted, then it won't be" A blue light starts glowing on Simon's chest, the boy looks scared at the king smiling deviously to him "... And if I say I want your wish BACK"

He pulls out Simon's wish. Simon immediately feels himself grow weaker.

"Then I'll take it back." Magnifico says simply while looking at the blue orb.

Simon feels hopeless, the fire he had in his eyes a moment earlier is all gone.

Asha sees this happening all the way back in the king's study, she hides the piece of paper she got inside her sleeve. She's still trying to stand up as she asks.

"Y-you ugh- You can STEAL people's wishes?!"

"Oh I "wish" heheh" He laughs at his own joke "But nah, I can only take back from those who have given it to me once willingly." He holds Simon's wish in his hand with a smirk "Now the question is... What should I do with this one?" It's a sarcastic question, as he knows exactly what he'll be doing with it.

Simon is horrified, thinking the king will change his wish into something else, maybe even control him.

"Ah I know, how about a little demonstration of what happens with wishes in this real world? heheh" His grip begins to tighten on Simon's wish.

Simon gasps in pain as his legs go weak, his friends all worriedly ask what's going on with him and try to help him stand up.

"They get CRUSHED." The king destroys Simon's wish. Absorbing it's energy like it's the most wonderful sensation going through his veins.

Simon collapses, his knees on the floor as his face is now lifeless.

His eyes are unfocused. He's catatonic.

"Si-simon?" Dahlia tries to shake him to wake him up, but he's not responding, he's just breathing.

Asha is still in the king's study, shaking her head "no" in disbelief.

Magnifico pulls her back to the wishes room with his magic.

"What was that you said about Rosas "never kneeling to me", Asha?" He says smugly, pointing to Simon kneeling in front of them.

"What did you do with him?!" Asha is struggling to get out of his magic's grip

Magnifico just ignores the question and lets go of her, as he walks to the center of the circular room.

But Amaya gladly explains with a wicked smile "Have you forgotten what kind of wishes he takes? Your deepest desire that shows who you ARE, one might even call it... Your soul." Asha and the other teens look at her shocked. "Or at least HALF of it, people still need the other half to keep living or whatever." She finishes dismissively

Magnifico hits the floor with his staff, sending magic waves all around the room. And before they know it the whole room is being lifted up.

He then turns to Asha with a menacing grin "And ya know, your sweet little star did mention I'd have to be very powerful in order to sustain his magic... So take a wild guess where I'm getting that extra power from." He gives her a clue by looking up, as if he's pointing to the wishes trapped above them with his eyes.

Asha looks up at all the wishes and then to him in disbelief "No... You can't- They didn't do anything- They don't deserve-"

"I decide what everyone deserves." He puts it simply with a grin, as they reach the top of the tower.

Chapter 16

Final Thoughts

... So... How many of you fell for it? I mean, maybe it just felt like an obvious fake out death to me because I'm the twisted and sleep deprived mind that came up with it, but come oooon ya'll didn't think I'd only end ONE of them, right?

But if you're DONE with Magnifico and Amable, don't worry I am too, can't wait for them to be defeated next chapter, for real this time, no cap, we'll get a happy ending for our traumatized heroes I swear.

But let me lighten the mood with an imagery that cracks me up every time I think about it... Magnifico sneaking in the room while Asha is having her little speech with Simon.

Like dude just got in like:

Then he unties Amaya and listens as Asha is like "He's gone now, he can't hurt us anymore" and they're both thinking like "OOOH WE GONNA HURT THEM SO BAD LMAO" like the abusive parental figures they are, because that's what they represent by the way, they're like Mother Gothel and the whole population of Rosas is Rapunzel.

Asha is better than me by the way, like, if I saw this man alive again after ALL that I'd just do like Bravo and jump off the window. But she just keeps going, keeps finding new ways to fight back, I love my girl so much, like, you guys may think I hate her for putting her through this, but I can't wait for us to get to her happy ending! BUT I CAN'T RUSH IT OTHERWISE IT'LL RUIN THE WHOLE THING.

Anyway, this is already way too long, pray for Aster, I think ya'll can guess what'll happen to him next chapter, and pray for Rosas, because Magnifico will not be making them knell down by being chaining them to the ground like in the movie... Sooo yeah.

Thank You For Reading!

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thesamoanqueen · 8 months

Text

Nothing left

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, jealousy, errors.

A/N: As we said here, leave your hands at home.

She loved their room. Maybe she would take a picture to put on her phone, frame and look at in moments of despair, because she didn't want to get out of there.

With a deep breath, she took off her heels abandoning them under a chair, while already she slipped off her earrings and the whole package. Behind her, it took Roman longer just to close the door, but Y/N had already taken over the bathroom to fix her hair and change. It had been one of the busiest mornings of her life and it was absurd considering that for years she had followed the pace of two rosters during the PLEs and the weekly routine. She hadn't had to run around endless hallways that day, the headphones hadn't stuck to her ears, there hadn't been any change of plans, no one to call in hurry, staff and technicians had been helpful, even offering Y/N her favorite frozen mango lemonade smoothie. They were so nice, but she liked the hotel room better. She needed a break.

- Have you changed your mind? Is it not a good opportunity? - she heard Roman ask from the room, finishing unbuttoning her dress to replace it with something more cozy.

They were not talking about a four am program, he watched it too when at home.

- It's a great opportunity Ro, for the company and above all for you - she obviously noticed, receiving a strange look, when she came out of the bathroom - it will give you visibility, it will increase your stats, it will help establish you on a wider audience and that’s the long-term goal for the future, even if you will boycott it with your list.

Standing next to the table, Roman cracked a smile taking the blow as she lay back on the bed, laptop already open on her legs, in what in a few minutes had become her personal sprint to shut the rest of the world out for at least a couple of hours.

- Is that why you are not happy to go to the studio? For my list?

Oh no, she was happy about that. Everyone out there seemed unable to get him to talk about anything other than his titles. At least they had found a compromise to please the company while still supporting him as more than the face of WWE.

- You can make all the lists and smiles you want, to whoever you want, don't worry. Do your things - she reassured him, opening the report to be sent to the executives for the following day's appointment.

Biting the corner of her lip, fingers racing across the keyboard, she finished in record time with a couple of randomly thrown standard phrases too, but she couldn't concentrate quite as well on emails, Roman staring thoughtfully at her without moving from one inch.

- What's up? - she asked, however, avoiding taking her eyes off the screen.

- You're not jealous – he threw out of blue and Y/N took a break to look at him this time.

Of course she wasn't. She wasn't that kind of woman. She didn't make a scene, she didn't get angry, she had learned to distinguish who deserved her attention and her precious time, she had survived a year of nothing with her head high and had been repaid with a perfect relationship, she knew what value she had for him and what value she had herself. She didn't low down to those levels, they even joked, she had compiled a list of the most obscene and hilarious comments about him found on the web.

- What should I be jealous of? - she asked.

Because she was really curious to know what made him suspect that her desire to go back to the hotel, get the boring work done quickly to have some time to relax and maybe be ready for a night out in a city that offered a million opportunities to celebrate those small successes, without having to worry about shots, uncomfortable or trivial questions, suits and skintight dresses, people who treated her as if they had been homies and greeted him with hugs that not even their coworkers dared, was for jealousy.

His phone, lying on the table next to the welcome note, rang when Roman had just shook his head and Y/N knew that it would be the end if her eyes hadn't locked there for a second too long. And she also knew that he had noticed it, but they would have not talk about that nonsense. Because it was stupid, meaningless and she wasn't jealous.

She went back to work on her laptop, ignoring him as he reached out to pick it up and Y/N opened the email, ending up ignoring even the latest updated communications from the program for the following day and scrolling through it. Roman glanced at her again, quickly, but Y/N forced herself to stay focused until he left the phone to go to the bathroom too. She took a deep breath as soon as she was sure he was out of range and she mentally forced herself to regain control.

It had only been a moment, perhaps because of this new set-up, all those changes, she really had nothing to stop and think about. Even if that hug had been a bit too much and… no, she had to stop thinking about it!

When Roman came out with his inseparable tracksuit to lie down next to her, Y/N was still with her laptop, gaze focused on some shots sent as pre-show tests.

- I would never do it, you know – he reminded her after a few seconds of silence, making her stomach do a flip.

Yes, she knew it… she trusted Roman more than anyone and she never doubted him for a second. She hadn't even doubted that morning actually, she was just… annoyed, but not for him. The truth was that Y/N had only wanted to go back to the hotel because it was simpler and because she didn't feel right fighting with a woman like her, although perhaps she could have since it were her hands that had been on him longer than necessary. But practically nothing had happened and Roman had went back to Paul's side as soon as possible.

- I know, I'm not the jealous one here – she reminded to both him and herself, while he was playing with his watch.

She had also had a moment, yes, but him… oh, he was a league on his own! Y/N had stopped counting before they even decided to put a name to their relationship, the times it happened. It was pathological.

- I value what belongs to me. I don't take you for granted - he returted seriously, no doubt in his voice and Y/N found herself staring at the screen, her stomach freezing this time.

Roman was a man, not a boy. He knew how to take care, respect and support her, he treated her as the only thing that really mattered and what would have been a flaw on anyone else, on him looked terribly sexy. And she always fell for it, without exception. Especially after spending the morning, trying to fight off the mood at having seen too many hands on her man.

- You're unbearable when you do that – she snorted, closing the laptop to leave it on the bedside table and climb on Roman without hesitation.

With a smug grin, Roman helped her into position, eyes searching for her, as she reserved the same fate as her laptop for his watch, fighting then with the zipper of his hoodie.

- Don't you want to know what time is our reservation? – he chuckled hoarsely, hinting at the message received minutes before and helping her anyway when she quickly stripped him of his shirt as well, her hands sliding down his chest to stop on his shoulders.

- I already know, I chose it - she murmured against his mouth, biting his grin.

Jealousy was for those who lacked confidence, not for them. She wasn't jealous. In that relationship, born out of nowhere and raised between dates at unthinkable times, meetings in lockerooms and buses, calls and messages from everywhere, mental and physical breakdowns, nights spent sleeping and mornings of sex followed by doubts, she shared more than the path with Roman. She had discovered that she was as possessive as he was, because she valued, them. What they were building together was everything to her and she wasn't willing to lose it or let someone ruin it.

She felt Roman hold her, hands sliding up her hips, keeping her pressed against him, as they deepened their sloppy kiss and Y/N ran her fingers over his chest. The rapid beat of his heart slammed under her fingertips, warmth surrounding and encouraging her to move, grinding against his pants which she had merely undone. He was solid beneath her, ready to let her control even though his tongue had already won their fight. Knowing that he belonged to her, to have power over him, to be the only one to have his attention and to be able to have him like no one else out there thought was an injection of confidence that excited and pushed her to reclaim what belonged to her and her only.

His big hands had worked their way through her soft clothes, stroking her hips, touching her skin, ass, eyes glued to hers as she slowly traced every inch of his torso after pulling away from the kiss. With the taste of him still in her mouth, she reached down to kiss one pec and then the other, working her way up to his neck, his beard pinching her cheeks as she licked the jugular then bit his ear, feeling him pull her up to place her on his boner now awake. She rocked on top of him, feeling him hard against her center, his hands moving up under her shirt lifting her breasts and hers going down instead, moving his pants down. Slowly biting the skin of his neck, Y/N took it in her hand, squeezing his meat just enough to feel Roman stiffen, his breath catching in his throat, her tongue stopping under his ear, merely tasting his skin, sensing the blood pressure without marking him.

- I don't need to do it… - she whispered, nail scratching his already wet tip -...not this time either... -she added, rubbing up and down until she drew a hot breath from him - ... right? - she asked, placing an innocent kiss on his full lips before leaning down and taking something else into her mouth.

A low, rough growl filled the room as she ran her tongue over his vein, feeling the flesh throb, the taste of it overpowering as she slid it against her palate until it touched her throat, in that one smooth motion she'd been busy to learn. She liked the feel of it pulsing against her tongue, his hand gripping her hair and indulging in the slow movement of her head, before curling into a needy caress as he struggled to fight the instinctive thrusts. Y/N loved seeing him close his eyes, his breathing getting heavy every time her lips licked the tip, sucking out all the air in his lungs to make him pulse.

-Ain't going anywhere babygirl – Roman panted, licking his lips, biting the lower one when she slid her fingers over the sensitive skin to scratch and free him – do what you want-

She let it slam against his bare stomach, a trail of spit and precum dripping onto his skin, those dark curls driving her crazy. Getting up on her knees, Y/N locked her eyes on him and threw away the extra clothes, remaining only with the shirt that soon ended up covering him too, when she slipped it into her soft hot folds. Her body greeted him with an almost sigh of relief which he returned low and dangerous, their bodies warming and melting like every time they did it.

She had fucked every kind of man in her life. But with Roman it wasn't even sex, with him it had always been more than that. Everything in him seemed made to slip inside her and mix, it was a loss of consciousness, something shared back, something unique that made her feel at peace, in her place. Her place was with him and his with her.

Nails digging into his torso, she slowly, unhurriedly rocked her hips, his now-rigid erection spreading her deeply, never letting go as her butt lifted.

- Mmh… keep it slow, like that… yes, thats it – he approved hoarsely and Y/N reversed the movement, guiding him inside her in that weak gasp which was setting both of them on fire.

Her caramel skin itched, thighs taut and soon her shirt became a torture, one Roman took care to make worse by sliding his hands down her side, catching a dark nipple between his fingers to turn it over and make her moan with a cry. Y/N ducked a little, her center filled with his flesh, as she flattened against him resting where someone else's hands had been that morning. Her mind clouded by the arousal brought back the memory, clear and her hips instinctively moved, without increasing the pace, only deepening the thrusts until Roman slammed against her sweet spongy spot.

They could make jokes, imagine, try even, but no one would have what she had. No one would feel him tightening his grip on her hips, throb from the grips of her body, know what it was like to burn, as the sweat trickled down her back, between her shoulder blades and up to the curve of her round ass from his thrusts or the kisses he left on her skin. No one would see the bleary, hungry gaze he gave her as her eyes lowered to seek him, the heat building more and more at the bottom of her belly.

- You're so good for me… so good inside me… ahn!

- Take it… le-mme hear those pretty sounds yes

His hand slid under her shirt again, this time without searching for her breast, his thumb digging into her wet folds, where their bodies joined to rotate slowly around the button of nerves she had rubbed against him until that moment. The contact sent a sharp shiver on her body, and Y/N dropped her head back, moans becoming almost cries as her back arched, giving Roman more room. Everything in her was burning, relentlessly, slowly, consuming her down to her toes, making her melt on him in a mess of moods and sweat. With an effort from his abs, Roman sat up, a big strong arm sliding behind her, pulling her close to him, his finger moving slowly and forcefully between her folds. The desire to kiss him made her almost cling to his neck, getting up again a little on her knees, helping him in that last run that had filled the whole room with their smell and the sound of their bodies clashing. One thrust, another, like a carousel she never wanted to get off, until the heat became too much and Y/N felt it explode suddenly, making her squeeze around Roman's stiff shaft, letting his name rush desperately from her lips to be swallowed up by the kisses he never spared.

There was nothing left in her mind, except that feeling of peace and satisfaction that only being with him could give her, that drained and recharged her as soon as his arms tightened around her, when her body welcomed his limitless lunges and his seed, which filled her like a mark that no one else had granted and that no one else but her deserved.

She rested her cheek in his hair, his face buried in the crook of her neck in an embrace that was everything to her. New York and its frantic pace couldn't take that away from her. Nobody could do it.

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#roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #roman reigns oneshot

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your-not-invisible-to-me · 1 year

Text

We'll Hold Hands Until the Sun Comes Out (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Ship: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary:

After a horrible week of bad luck breaking you down, Matt is ready to be there and pick up the pieces.

Word Count: 1,494

Warning: none

A/N: Title inspired by one of my favorite songs, "Time Wasting" by Heffron Drive. Listen to it here! It makes the fic better me thinks. Fic itself is for @pastafossa as she deserves all the Matt comfort after some consistent bad luck.

It was too loud.

Even with the lights off and the tv on mute, the world was just too loud as you continued to bury your head into the pillow.

It had been an awful week. Just plain awful.

You should have known something was wrong when it started with Matt telling you he had to go out of town for a few days, some conference upstate that was an apparent golden networking opportunity for him and Foggy. Who were you to protest?

But then the power went out in the apartment after they left, and only Matt had the passwords to all the accounts you needed to pay for it.

Did you mention your phone was dead, too?

Sure you were able to get it charged after going to Karen’s. Sure you were able to call Matt and listen as he profusely apologized for letting the date of the power bill slip his mind. Sure, you were able to get confirmation that it would be turned on by the end of the day, and indeed it was.

But then your co-worker called out sick the next day, leaving you to deal with an angry boss. Then your lunch got stolen. Twice. In one week.

And who could forget the lovely cab that skidded to a stop right next to you on the sidewalk? While it was raining?

So now, as the evening rolled around on Friday night, all you wanted to do was sleep.

But it was just too loud. Each honk of a Hell’s Kitchen taxi came through the walls as if it were the bricks that fell as it toppled down. The slide of your clothes against the grooves in the silk sheets dug into your brain like nails on a chalkboard.

So you did what you could do as you dug your head deeper into the pillow, and hoped that sleep would eventually win the battle.

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

Matt couldn’t exactly complain about the week he’d had. While he always hated being away from you, the trip to Syracuse for a conference was a success. While networking wasn’t either his or Foggy’s stronger suit, as it usually involved kissing ass to lawyers who wouldn’t take a second glance at them, he had felt that this conference was filled with the rare types you only heard of, lawyers who cared.

He couldn’t help but feel a new hope for the profession he had worked hard to be in.

So now, on this Friday night, he, Karen, and Foggy sat in Josie’s Bar drinking to their success. He had tried to call you to join them, as he and Foggy had chosen to go straight there once arriving back to the city, but was sent straight to voicemail. But it was rather late, and he assumed you were already asleep.

Little did he know.

“You should have heard her, Karen. It was so refreshing to actually listen to a lawyer who actually fought for her client. I mean, sure, Jen doesn’t exactly take on clients with the cleanest records, but you can see she actually believes in their right to redemption.” said Foggy. “Too bad she had to go straight back to LA. She seemed like the type who would be hella fun in a bar.”

It was the mention of you that pulled Matt back into the conversation.

“Jen would have to be immune to alcohol if she wanted to out-drink her!” said Karen. She wasn’t wrong, his girlfriend did have quite the ability to hold her liquor.

“Where is she, anyway?” asked Foggy. “She never misses a night a Josie’s.”

“I tried calling her!” said Matt. “It went straight to voicemail. She’s probably already asleep. She seemed pretty busy lately.”

“Well with the week she’s had, I wouldn’t blame her for conking out either,” said Karen.

Well, that sure did get Matt’s attention.

“What do you mean?”

As Karen spilled in detail your trail of bad luck that had followed you throughout the week, the grip on his cane tightened. Both of his friends knew better than to question it as he immediately slipped cash on the table and just about threw himself out the door.

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

It was too quiet.

Usually, when Matt approached his apartment, he’d be able to hear you in some shape or form, whether it would be humming as you danced through the kitchen or the murmur of the television that played softly as you snoozed on the couch.

But now there was nothing. He would have thought no one was home if he hadn’t finally picked up your heartbeat when he entered the lobby.

As he opened the door, the scene before him made his heart ache. He could sense everything. Your work clothes were skewed across the floor rather than in the hamper, something you had bought to make HIM pick up the habit. Dishes from leftovers were piled in the sink, and while he was more than guilty of waiting till the morning to clean up dinner, you were always the opposite.

He made it to your shared bedroom, finding you curled up in bed under more blankets than he realized you owned.

“Sweetheart?”

The silence echoed throughout the room, raising his concern as he knew you weren’t asleep.

He walked to your side of the bed, lowering to his knees as he tried to find your face.

“Darling, are you all right?”

“Matty?” your voice came out in cracks.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Please help me.”

If his heart ached before, it was falling to pieces now. He immediately crawled up into bed with you, pulling you into his lap as he curled himself around you. Tears immediately started falling from your eyes, soaking his shirt as he tried to soak up your pain.

“What do you need, sweetheart? How can I help?” He had never seen you like this before, each of your sobs feeling like a stab to his heart.

“I’m just so tired, Matt. This week was so bad.”

“Why didn’t you call me earlier? I would have come straight home.”

“You were working. You were busy.”

“Never too busy for you.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. You knew Matt loved you and were as certain of it as if you could hear his heartbeat too. But you weren’t going to interrupt his week when it was important for work.

“What can I do, sweetheart?”

“Make the world quiet, please.”

This was something he knew all too well. The feeling of the world being so loud that it took over any peace in his mind was something he knew like the back of his hand. You were always the first one to help him. You were always the first to let him lay his head in your lap as he blocked out the bad. You were always the first to pull him into your chest when he needed the shield.

Could he be just as strong for you? That, he wasn’t sure.

But he was damn well ready to try.

He maneuvered you so you were curled up next to him, kissing your cheek in apology as you let out a moan at being separated.

“Just a second, sweetheart.”

He slipped his shirt and pants off, leaving him in just his boxers before he turned to you. You let him do the same, too tired to do anything as he slipped your own clothes off and threw them to the ground.

Usually, your side of the bed was the one closest to the window. You liked being woken up by the sun through the blinds and feeling the warmth on your face. But that didn’t matter now as he pulled you back into his arms, skin to skin, turning you so he was blocking the window from your space.

You immediately felt better. The scrapes on a chalkboard were suddenly replaced by the soft beat of Matt’s heart as you laid your head against his chest. The itch from the sheets faded away as the feeling was replaced by the softness of Matt’s skin.

He dug his hand into your hair, giving your head soft scratches like you did to him, feeling your body go slack as each muscle fell loose.

“Oh sweetheart, I love you so much. Please. Never feel like you need to fight alone when the world seems too strong. I’ll gladly fight by your side.”

Matt couldn’t help but feel satisfied as he felt you start to relax in his arms.

“That’s it, darling. It’s okay.”

Matt curled around you tighter, smiling to himself as he felt you slip your hand into his, holding it like a lifeline to the calm you desperately needed after the storm.

He felt the grip of your hand lessen as you finally fell asleep as the darkness of the night took over, but he knew he’d force himself to stay awake if it meant holding it till sunrise.

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

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know if I missed any spelling or grammar errors. I tried my best to catch them, but I'm not the best at it.

Feedback always appreciated too!

I hope you enjoyed the Matt comfort, @pastafossa. I adore you always, friend!

To the person who sent in the Matt x Jen phone sex request, it will be here soon!

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rubyreduji · 1 year

Text

Good to be Bad - jww & kmg

title: good to be bad pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader, kim mingyu x gn! reader genre: fluff, minor angst, descendants au (child of hades reader) warnings: mentions of violence, stealing, bullying, and canonical bad parenting w.c.: 10.2k summary: moving to auradon brings many new things, good and bad a/n: this will follow almost none of the canon descendants universe lol. if i make someone mean its for the plot i promise i dont think they’re actually like this

here's the list of everyone's parents too if you're curious

You’re sitting on top of a warehouse roof when you hear footsteps approaching.

“Are you going to apply for the proclamation?” Wonwoo always seems to know just where to find you. He takes a seat next to you on the ledge and you scoot over a bit so your thighs are touching.

“It’s just charity to make them look good. They don’t actually care about us.”

Earlier in the morning, the royal palace released a proclamation, stating the royal family are going to sponsor six villain kids and bring them over to Auradon to help ensure a “better future”. Every child on the Isle of the Lost will send in an application and the six best candidates will be chosen to move to Auradon.

You don’t believe it though. It has to be a big set up. There’s no way the people in Auradon actually want to help, or they would have done something a long time ago.

“It sure is a unique opportunity. To go and live on the mainland, get to attend Auradon Prep.” Wonwoo is trying so hard to come off as nonchalant, but you catch the wistful air of his tone.

“You’re going to apply,” you say. It’s not a question. “They’ll pick you for sure. You’re not like us Wonwoo, you don’t belong here.”

“None of us belong here,” Wonwoo mutters.

“Maybe…” You’re quiet for a moment before you continue. “But you’re the one who deserves to get out.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond. You two sit in silence, staring out at the Isle. It really is an ugly sight to behold. Even in the worst of places, you can find beauty, but not on the Isle. It’s ugly on the inside and out.

Eventually you get up and Wonwoo follows, still not saying anything. You two start to walk to your place, the unspoken agreement that Wonwoo will spend the night. The walk is far, considering you live in an underground lair on the edge of the Isle. Your father likes to be far away from people and to live underground, seeing as he is the God of the Underworld.

Your dad…well he’s not winning any Best Dad of the Year awards anytime soon, but he’s not near as bad as he could be. Sure he’s a bit negligent, treating you more as a lackey than his child, and he likes to remind you how much of a mistake you are and how you will never live up to him, but why complain when other kids have it worse.

Like Wonwoo, who’s mother is the literal most evil woman alive. She’s always been disappointed in him, seeing as he takes no interest in any villainy. That’s why Wonwoo sleeps at your place.

When you get inside the lair you and Wonwoo quietly navigate the dark rooms until you get to your bedroom. You two flop down onto your bed, squished together on the twin size mattress. You and Wonwoo have been sharing the same mattress since fourth grade, so the proximity of your bodies is normal at this point.

You’re not tired, but you know if you’re too loud your father’s going to yell at you in the morning, so you lay quietly staring up at the ceiling. You can tell Wonwoo is still awake too because you haven’t heard him taking his glasses off yet, and you know he hates sleeping with them on.

“Y/N-ah?” Wonwoo’s already soft voice is even softer as he whispers out to you.

“Woo?”

“Come to Auradon with me.”

Your breathing freezes for a moment before you gain your composure again. “I can’t.”

You and Wonwoo aren’t the same. By the time you and Wonwoo got close, you were already corrupted into the Isle’s ways. Besides Wonwoo, you have one of the most influential, evil parents on the Isle and whereas Wonwoo tries to ignore that part of him, you lean into it.

“You deserve to live a good life,” Wonwoo says. “You can’t do that here.”

“There isn’t a place for me in a world like Auradon. All they’re gonna do over there is try and ‘fix’ us so they can rub in our parents’ faces,” you say. “And all the while they try to fix us, they’ll just villainize us.”

“So we’ll just prove them wrong. I can’t live my most fulfilling life if you're not there too. So please, just think about it.” You’ve never heard Wonwoo ask for anything in his life, let alone beg.

“I…I’ll consider it.”

And consider it you did. Which is why you’re now standing at the bridge with Wonwoo, waiting to be picked up to go to Auradon. If you’re being honest you still don’t really want to go. The choice between going to Auradon with all of the prissy princesses and stuck up princes, or staying at home with your homebody dad who tries to get rid of you at every opportunity possible, was definitely a tough one. To you, it sounds like a lose-lose situation, but while you were going over the pros and cons you were hit with a tie breaker.

As much as you don’t think Auradon is for you, there’s only one reason why you even considered it to begin with. As hellish as it sounds to go to Auradon Prep, there’s one pro that outweighs everything else.

You were sure of your decision when you told Wonwoo and his whole face lit up. It’s rare to see that cute little smile spread across Wonwoo’s lips but whenever you do see it, you’re reminded why you’d do anything in the world for him.

“Well isn’t this a sight to see?” You hear someone approach the bridge before you see them, but you don’t have to turn around to identify who it is.

Jeonghan, son of Mother Gothel, is probably the only other person you trust who is not Wonwoo, and with Jeonghan you only trust him as far as you can throw him. He’s the one friend you have who you can get into mischief with. He’s manipulative and sneaky and quick witted and can talk himself out of nearly any situation he gets put in. If you and Jeonghan weren’t friends, you’d be a bit concerned with how similar you two are.

“What are you doing here Han?”

“I’m here to catch my ride to Auradon.” Jeonghan grins at you. He strolls up to you, slinging an arm around you when he gets close. “So nice of you to come see me off.”

“Yeah right, try again.”

“You're going to Auradon? You practically run this place, why would you give that all up just to be surrounded by a bunch of assholes?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” you scoff.

“I’m going so I can wreak havoc and cause chaos. Why would I stay here when I can mooch all of the premium stuff off of the rich bitches while torturing them with my presence?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flit over to where Wonwoo is standing. “Oh I get it, your reason has more to do with lover boy and less to do with villainy.”

Jeonghan and Wonwoo are on…neutral terms, but then again, most people are with Wonwoo. People are more scared of his quiet, polite demeanor than they are of the kids who can do any actual damage. Jeonghan likes to tease you for the close nature of your relationship with the other boy though.

You’re about to retort back to Jeonghan when the next VK walks up, his always present companion slinking behind him, and anger flares up in you.

“No. No, fuck this. Living in Auradon is bad enough, but now I have to do it with him there as well?” You glare over at the boy who just walked up.

Minghao, son of the Evil Queen, just stands and stares with a disgusted look plastered on his features.

You and Minghao hate each other, and you have since kindergarten. At first it was just stupid little kid fights, and then petty middle school arguments, but as you’ve gotten older the disdain for one another hasn’t gone away. In fact it’s probably gotten worse.

His little pet, Junhui, son of Cruella de Vil, is never seen more than a few feet behind Minghao anywhere he goes. You don’t have anything against Jun per se, but by association with Minghao, he’s just another enemy.

“That’s only five, where’s the sixth VK?” Wonwoo asks.

With impeccable timing to Wonwoo’s words, the final VK strolls up. Rather than the anger you felt with Minghao, annoyance takes over that feeling. The sixth and final Villain Kid who was chosen, is Chan, son of Gaston.

You don’t have a direct reason to dislike him, other than the fact he has an affinity for getting on your last nerve. Just like his father, he loves to boost his own ego and you can’t help but puke your mouth a bit every time you hear or see it.

You wonder briefly if you still have time to back out. As much as you love Wonwoo and tolerate Jeonghan, you don’t know if they outweigh the other three companions you’ll have. You don’t have time to deliberate though, because soon the barrier is opening and a long black car is pulling up.

A man steps out from the car and greets you all. He quickly confirms your identity before ushering you all into the car. In the back it’s like a lounge area. You could combine all of the Isle and it still wouldn’t be as nice as this car.

The car takes off and soon you guys are on your way to Auradon. You’re staring out the window as you start to leave the Isle when all of a sudden a shiver runs through your body and you start to heat up. You’ve never felt so hot in your life and then you hear Chan scream. You look back at the others in the car and they all look at you terrified.

“What?”

“Your, um, your hair is on fire,” Wonwoo tells you. You reach up and touch your hair only to realize there’s flames in its places.

“Oh.” You do your best at concentrating to make it stop and soon everyone in the car starts to look calm, so you assume it went away. “Well that’s new.”

“It’s probably because of the barrier,” Jeonghan says. “You get to use magic now.”

“Woah, lemme try!” Chan shouts before Minghao smacks him on the back of his head.

“You don’t have magic parents dumbass.”

You sigh and really hope that coming to Auradon isn’t a mistake.

When the car finally pulls up to Auradon Prep, there’s a few people standing at the front. The six of you climb out of the car, taking in your surroundings. The mainland is definitely a lot…brighter, than the Isle.

You squint until your eyes adjust to the lighting. When you can finally identify what you’re looking at you wish you could go back to not seeing. Standing in front of you is the royal family. You watch the way the future king, Seokmin, flicks his eyes from you to Wonwoo to Minghao to Jun. It takes you a moment to realize what he’s doing but he’s looking at your hair. You and Minghao both have blue hair while Wonwoo has purple and Jun has white hair with black stripes. To you it’s never been anything out of the ordinary, but apparently it’s just an Isle thing.

The queen not so subtly nudges Seokmin and he stops his staring. The King smiles at you six as he approaches you.

“Welcome to Auradon! We are so happy to have you here!”

You all stare at the King, not saying anything. He comes to that realization only after he’s looked at you for too long.

“Well, I’ll leave my son here to give you the tour of Auradon Prep. We hope you enjoy your time here, and have a successful future.”

Seokmin steps up and greets you all. “Let me bring you on a tour.”

You and Wonwoo glance at each other before you follow behind the prince. He takes you through the halls, explaining everything as he does, but you’re not paying much attention. It seems the only person who really is paying attention is Wonwoo. Minghao and Jun keep whispering to each other and Chan keeps trying to touch things he shouldn’t. You and Jeonghan stray at the back of the group, bored more than anything.

It isn’t until you approach your first group of AKs that you have full attention. An unsettling feeling creeps down your spine.

“Jihoon, Joshua!” Seokmin calls to them before turning to the group. “Guys, these are my best friends, Jihoon, son of Ariel and Eric, and Joshua, son of Snow White and Ferdidnand.”

“Woah, that’s a lot of leather,” the boy named Joshua mutters. The other boy sizes the VKs up before turning back to Joshua, totally ignoring your presence.

You don’t miss the way Minghao stiffens, his eyes focused on Joshua. It never really occurred to you, but now that you’re in Auradon, you’re going to be meeting the kids of the heroes who your parents were villains to. Well that’s another thing to look forward to.

At the awkward tension in the air, Seokmin bids his friends goodbye and continues with the tour.

“Here at Auradon Prep, everyone has a dorm room. You’ll occupy these three rooms so pair up and feel free to get settled into your rooms or explore around.” With that Seokmin leaves, and you all pair off. You and Wonwoo pair off, to Jeonghan’s demise (who ends up with Chan), but you just brush him off.

As soon as you walk into the room, your nose upturns. You quickly move to shut all of the curtains. “Why is it so goddamn bright here?”

“You grew up underground, everywhere is bright for you,” Wonwoo teases. “You better get used to the light, this is our new home now.”

“As long as they don’t ship me back off to the Isle,” you mutter under your breath. Wonwoo still hears you though.

“That won’t happen, because you’re going to behave yourself. Right?” He gives you a pointed look.

“Yes, sir!” You jokingly salute at him and he rolls his eyes but accepts your answer.

“Just think Y/N, this is the start of our new lives. We’re Auradonians now, and get to go to Auradon Prep. It’s going to be amazing, I can just feel it.”

Despite the growing nerves in your gut, Wonwoo’s upbeat attitude helps soothe them down, just for now at least.

“First day of class, are you excited?” Wonwoo asks as you two get ready for the day.

“It’s just school,” you answer, shrugging noncommittally. The whole week Wonwoo’s been excited to be in Auradon. He’s been in a happy mood, happier than you've ever seen him before. Happier than you’ve ever seen anyone before (you didn’t even know people could be that positive). He even went as far as getting a new wardrobe and a haircut. He looks like a completely new person.

He looks…good.

You always thought back on the Isle that he was just quiet and reserved, but you’re starting to think that was just how he had to be to survive. He’s been more open and active, like he’s found the life inside of him.

You on the other hand, you’ve been dreading being in Auradon since you stepped foot in it. You thought you could do it for Wonwoo’s sake, and it does warm your heart to see him so lively, but you can feel your own self starting to deteriorate. That’s just while you’ve been staying in your room, now you actually have to go to classes filled with all of the Auradonians. You can already feel the snide remarks and the accusations and normally that wouldn’t bother you, but you’re worried about how it will affect Wonwoo’s mood. Back on the Isle you could protect him from anything, but here it’s a whole new playing ground.

“It’s not ‘just school’ it’s proper school now. We get to actually learn from people who want to teach! Why aren’t you more excited?”

“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up too high,” you tell him as you pull on your jacket.

“It’s going to be great Y/N, just you wait.”

You can’t do anything but hum at Wonwoo as you sling your bag over your shoulder and head towards the door. Wonwoo is quick to follow and as you two step out of the room, Minghao and Jun are doing just the same. You and Minghao tut at each other before heading off into different directions.

“Even in a new place you’re going to hold the same sentiments to Minghao?”

“Just because we’re in a new place doesn’t mean he’s a whole new Minghao. If you’re that concerned about it, you befriend him first.” Wonwoo doesn’t say anything. “Exactly.”

You walk out of the dorm area and into the classroom part of the school. There’s already a large group of kids wandering about to their classes. When they catch sight of you and Wonwoo they’re quick to give you a wide berth. You don’t pay them mind as you continue walking through the halls.

You and Wonwoo have different first blocks and you two split off, but not before you remind him to come find you at lunch. After Wonwoo leaves you start to navigate your way to your first class. When you walk in there’s already a handful of kids sitting at desks and they all stare as you walk in.

You send a hearty glare in their direction and they all quickly look away. You walk through the desk, noticing the way a couple of the students flinch away from you, before you take your seat in the back of the class.

It’s not long before the whispering starts up. You’re not stupid, you know it’s about you, but you can’t be bothered to listen. You knew it was going to happen, you know they’re not saying anything nice, so why listen to things that are just going to annoy you even more than you already are.

As you were getting up this morning you told yourself that you can’t pay mind to anyone who has something to say about you, no matter how hard they stare or sneer or whisper, you can’t do anything about it. You have to focus on being good now, be the bigger person, so you can stay here with Wonwoo.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself as a group of guys snicker at you and a few girls start to obviously stare at your hair. It’s going to be a long day.

It’s not just the day that turns out to be long, it’s the whole week. Wonwoo seems oblivious to it all claiming “everyone just needs time to warm up” but you also have a suspicion people are either being fake nice to Wonwoo, or not giving him the same treatment as the rest of you due to his new look. Whatever the reason is, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be aware of the comments and glares you and the other boys have been on the receiving end of.

It’s strange, everyone seems to be scared of you, but at the same time they have no problem making under the breath comments on your upbringing. You’ve definitely been called a ‘freak’ a couple of times and one guy even tried to trip you in the cafeteria. He immediately cowered back when you raised your fist him, but still.

You’ve found a particular enemy in a boy named Seungkwan, the son of Cinderella. He makes the most comments about you and the other VKs and you think you may hate him more than Minghao. You have your third period science class with him and rather than listening to the teacher, he likes to focus his attention on you instead.

“Better watch out with this one, you don’t know what kind of potions they may brew up,” Seungkwan sneers.

“You wanna say that again?” You growl.

“What are you going to do? Light me on fire? They’ll just ship you right back to that slum you call a home. Actually, maybe you should do it. It would get rid of at least one of you vermin.”

That whole interaction happened in front of a teacher, who didn’t say anything. You’ve noticed that’s a recurring theme as well. Teachers love to look past what the Auradonians are saying, but as soon as you glare at someone, you’re the one being told off.

The issue is that Wonwoo has barely been experiencing any of this, and he’s off doing stuff during his free time. He’s found new hobbies and has been practicing his magic with Fairy Godmother and over all soaking up all of the Auradon goodness, which leaves you to spend time with Jeonghan or yourself.

You stand at your locker, wondering if maybe it would be a good thing if you got sent back to the Isle, when a giant body slams into you, shoving you into the lockers.

“Watch it, asshole,” you growl.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I-” The guy’s words cut off when he gets a good look at you. “You’re one of the Villain Kids.”

“And you’re a giant dumbass who can’t watch where he’s walking.”

“Oh right, I’m very sorry about that!” The guy quickly bends at the waist in a bow. When he stands, he stares at you expectantly. “So how are you enjoying Auradon?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to talk to you.” You close your locker with a loud slam. You turn to leave but the guy is in your way. “Move.”

“No, wait-”

Without meaning your hair bursts into flames as you glare at the guy. He jumps back, his reaction causing your hair to go back to normal.

“You’re…you’re the child of Hades…”

You glare up at the tall guy. “Yep. Now if you’ll very kindly move out of my fucking way.” You shove your way past him, surprised at how easily he moved despite his stature. You can’t focus on that though, rather trying to focus on just getting away from him.

“Wait, no! Come back!” The guy grabs your arm and spins you around.

You stare between his frantic face and his hand clamped around your bicep. “I would advise you to let go if you favor that hand.”

He’s quick to release you. “I’m sorry! I just…wanted to talk. I know you uh, Isle kids probably don’t wanna talk to us, but I just want to get to know you guys. This can’t be easy for you and I want to try and get to know you guys before I judge you.”

“So when you do get to know us, you’ll be free to judge?”

“No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant, ugh, that like…it’s unfair for everyone to be saying what they are when they don’t even know you. That’s all.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe we don’t want to talk to you?” With that you turn away again, this time more prepared to deck the big oaf if he touches you again.

As you walk away, he calls to your retreating back, “The name’s Mingyu by the way! Son of Hercules!”

And as much as that interests you, you continue to make your exit, filing that information away for later.

You’re not exactly sure how you ended up in this situation, but sitting across from you in your dorm is the son of Hercules. It seems after your first encounter he’s been partial to seeking you out as much as he can. You were just walking into your dorm when he bombarded you and all but forced his way into your dorm. So here you are, sitting on your bed, staring at where he sits at your desk.

“You’re here so you can what? Run back to all of your little friends and tell them all about me?”

“Oh no, I actually uh…this is kind of embarrassing, I don’t really have any friends.”

“You live in Auradon, how the hell don’t you have any friends? Aren’t you guys all about friendship and kindness and all that crap?”

“Yeah, we are, but I don’t know. Most people see me as some clumsy, annoying guy.”

“You are a clumsy, annoying guy.”

“I know that, but it’s different when they say it. I don’t know, none of them really like me that much. They don’t even pretend to like me like they do with some of the others.”

“I don’t get that. If you’re not going to like someone, don’t hide it. Honestly, it’s better they don’t fake it with you. I’d rather have a million enemies than one fake friend.”

“It’s different here,” Mingyu says. “Everyone does what it takes to get them higher on the totem pole.”

“And being fake does that? I’ve always openly hated Minghao and I’m the highest on the damn totem pole.”

“Oh no. We’re not allowed to hate anyone. Well I guess, unless it’s me.”

“Why do they even hate you? From what I can tell you’re smart, and strong, and…nice,” you force the last word out. “Sounds like everything everyone here values.”

“I may be smart, but they still think I’m stupid. I probably am sometimes. I guess when you have to be nice all the time, you need someone to be the punching bag to get all of your anger out on. I just happened to be that person.”

“Why don’t you do something about it? Your grandfather is literally Zeus. The Zeus. They should all be bowing to you, not walking all over you.”

You’re not sure why you care so much. Maybe it’s because Mingyu is the only person who hasn’t sneered at you. Maybe it’s because he knows what it’s like to get sneered at.

“What am I supposed to do? Rain lightning bolts down on them? Beat them up with my strength? I can’t do stuff like that, that’s villain stuff.” Mingyu glances over at you, like he said something wrong. Like he’s not supposed to bring up villainy around you. You barely pay attention to him though.

“Hell yeah it is! What’s wrong with a little villany? Beats being a punching bag for the rest of your life.”

“I would be hated even more than I already am,” Mingyu says.

“Villains aren’t even the bad guys. They have good views, people just get mad because they didn’t think of it first. Honestly half of the villains wouldn’t even be villains if it wasn’t for your parents! The two strongest villains on the Isle, Hades and Maleficent, wouldn’t have even become villains if they just got a goddamn invitation to begin with!” It’s something you and Wonwoo have discussed before. The coincidence of your parents path to villainy. “If you ask me, the real villains are the good guys. Real heroes don’t bully others.”

“You know you’re…not nearly as bad as the others make you out to be.”

“Yeah well, I was a lot worse on the Isle. I just know I’ll get shipped back if I do any of my normal activities, and I can’t leave Wonwoo alone here like that.”

“Wonwoo…Maleficent’s son. He’s not like the rest of you guys is he?”

“No, but he’s not like the Auradonians either. He’s probably the only good guy I know. Well I guess, you count now too. But Wonwoo’s a whole different thing. Despite who his mother is, he’s never given into any of it. He couldn’t even hurt a fly, and his conscience keeps him accounted for everything. Even that time he accidentally borrowed a pen from me and forgot to give it back.”

“You really love him, huh?”

“Of course, he’s my best friend.”

“No I mean like…happily ever after love. Romantic love. I can tell by how you talk about him. It’s the same way my mom talks about my dad.”

“You’re mom…Megara.” You decided to change the topic. You don’t want to think about your feelings for Wonwoo, especially now that it seems like he’s ignoring you.

“Yeah…she wasn’t exactly a hero to begin with either. She doesn’t talk about her time with Hades much, but sometimes she brings it up in passing.”

“He’s…something.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s change the topic now.”

“Right…so back to Wonwoo.”

“Or maybe you can just leave all together.” Mingyu grins at you but you keep your face deadpan.

“Okay! No talk about Hades or Wonwoo. Good to know.” Mingyu doesn’t say anything for a moment and you’re about to ask him to not so kindly fuck off when he speaks up again. “So do you have any hobbies?”

“...No.”

“Oh.”

“There’s not exactly a lot to do on the Isle and I doubt you’d consider stealing a hobby.”

“So there’s…nothing you like to do? What have you been doing in your free time? Haven’t you thought about trying new things?” Mingyu spitfires the questions at you, something you’ve noticed he does a lot.

“In my free time I sit in my dorm or spend time with Jeonghan. There’s nothing here I want to do. Why try new things when they all sound awful?”

“You’re pretty pessimistic, you know that?”

“Yeah I do, it’s almost like I was raised by villains.”

“Well let me show you fun things to do! I promise it will be worth your time. Meet me at the front of the school tomorrow after class!” With that Mingyu gets up and leaves. You just stare at the space he was sitting in, trying to process his words.

For some reason you find yourself in front of the school after class the next day. You’re not sure why. Curiosity? Boredom? Some kind of pity for the kid with no friends?

“Y/N! You’re here!” The big guy runs up and attempts to give you a hug but you dodge him before he can. “You won’t be disappointed!”

“I better not be, or I’ll set you on fire.”

Mingyu laughs, not understanding you’re being completely serious. “Let’s go.” He starts to lead you to another part of the school you haven’t explored yet. “I thought I could introduce you to a bunch of things that you may enjoy. Cooking, art, music, reading, sports, gaming. Stuff like that.”

“I know what all of that is, I just don’t have an interest in it.”

“Do you not have an interest in it or are you just afraid to participate in something that’s not villainous?” You don’t answer. “You can’t tell if you don’t like something if you don’t try it! You live in Auradon now, you don’t have to be evil all the time. And don’t think I’m trying to change you from who you are, I’m just trying to…expand who you could be.”

“You’re cheesy, you know that? You sound like Fairy Godmother in Goodness Class but less stuck up and more puppy-like.”

“Puppies are a good thing!”

You just roll your eyes as Mingyu guides you into a room. There’s a bunch of equipment inside and a large mirror on one of the walls. There are a few people inside, using the equipment and it takes you a few seconds to piece together that it's a fitness gym.

“Why did you bring me here?” You turn to look at Mingyu.

“Well you seem to have a lot of pent up feelings and this is a great way to get them out. You can get swole while doing it too!” Mingyu flexes his arm and you try to not show how impressed you are at the size of his bicep. Stupid Hercules kid.

“So what? You just want me to lift weights?”

“Well…more like hit things. C’mere.” Mingyu takes you over to another part of the room where there are large bags hanging from the ceiling. “Punching bags. Just put the gloves on and go at it.” He hands you a pair of large gloves.

“You know on the Isle when you punch someone you don’t wear gloves. Seems like a sissy thing to do.”

“It sounds like protecting your hands from getting hurt. Just put them on.” You do.

You think Mingyu is about to say something else but you ignore him and throw a punch at the bag. You continue to throw punch after punch, working up a sweat and getting out all of your frustrations. The bag swings all over, probably due to your demi-god strength, but you don’t stop.

You don’t stop, until you hear someone cackle behind you. You step back from the bag to turn around and see two people staring at you and Mingyu. One is the small guy you met on the first day, Jihoon maybe? And another guy.

“Look Jihoon, it’s a delinquent and the dumbass,” the new guy scoffs. “Why don’t you two get out of here before you stink up the place.”

“Don’t even bother with them Cheol, they’re probably too stupid to understand what you’re saying,” Jihoon says.

This ‘Cheol’ doesn’t seem to listen to his friend though. “You know you have no right being here. Not just in this room, but at this school, on the mainland. Go back to the Isle where vermin like you belong. And you Mingyu. I knew you were fucking pathetic but hanging around low-lifes like them? You really are the biggest fucking loser in this school aren’t you?”

“Watch your mouth.” You throw the gloves off and start to walk towards the two but you feel a strong hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“Don’t. C’mon, let’s just go. It’s not worth it.” You glare at the pair as Mingyu practically drags you out of the room. He doesn’t say anything else after you two get out of the gym.

“Hey,” you break the silence, “you said you were going to show me a bunch of things. What’s the next one?”

Mingyu perks up a bit at your enthusiasm and starts to guide you to a new part of the school. When you get there you realize it’s the art wing of the school. You’ve walked through it before but never stopped to look for too long.

You two walk in through the door of a room and to your surprise, Minghao and Jun are in there.

“Nope, we’re leaving,” you tell Mingyu. You try to drag him out of the room but unfortunately for you, he’s a lot stronger than you are.

“Why, what’s wrong? Aren’t those guys also from the Isle?”

“Yeah that’s the problem. Just because we’re from the same place doesn’t mean we’re friends, that’s an Auradon thing. It’s actually common to have a lot more enemies than friends on the Isle.”

“They’re your enemies?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “So let’s go before they see us.”

Mingyu finally seems to understand you and you two silently sneak out of the room. The sad look is back on Mingyu’s face. “Well that’s a two for two bust.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m supposed to be the pessimistic one, remember? There has to be more than punching things and half assed art.”

“Fine, fine. The final thing today is actually my favorite thing to do, so don’t be too harsh on it okay?”

“No promises.”

Mingyu ignores your last statement and leads you to your final destination, the kitchens. “My favorite thing to do is cook!”

You don’t have much time to protest before Mingyu is handing you an apron and getting right to work. You find that you don’t want to protest much anyways. Mingyu seems genuinely excited as he bustles around the kitchen and you may be evil, but not evil enough to kill his happiness. You do as he says and you two talk about your childhoods and yourselves as you work side by side. You find that you’re enjoying yourself, and that maybe you do like Mingyu’s company, just a little bit.

The food also comes out…really good. Better than the dining hall food and way better than anything you’d ever had on the Isle. You and Mingyu sit on the counters of the kitchen as you eat your meal and continue your conversation.

You stare at Mingyu as he goes on a story about trips to Mount Olympus and you decide he’s pretty. Objectively. He has good facial structure and tan skin and nicely styled hair.

“Mingyu,” you cut him off.

“Yes?” He stops his story to look up and stare you in the eyes.

“Uhm…thanks.”

“For what?”

“For…this? For you know,” you struggle to get the words out, you’ve never been the best at showing emotions, “for being my friend.”

Mingyu lights up at this and you think that his smile might be the prettiest thing about him.

“You and Hercules’s kid?” Jeonghan drawls and if you weren’t used to much scarier things creeping up on you, you would have jumped.

It’s been a few weeks since you admitted to Mingyu that you guys are friends and you’ve been spending a lot more time with him lately. He just left your dorm when Jeonghan approaches you.

“What do you want Jeonghan?”

“Oh nothing. Just interesting seeing you all buddy-buddy with the big guy. Especially given your parents and the fact you yourself said you’re not gonna be making any friends here.”

“Oh shut up. Don’t act like you’re not always with that pretty boy all the time.”

“Pretty boy? You mean Josh?”

“Josh? A nickname? Really Jeonghan? And you want to try and judge me?”

“Joshua and I aren’t friends. He’s just in like all of my classes and has taken to hanging around me, not the other way around.”

“The Jeonghan I know would have told him to fuck off. You really wanna be with someone who keeps shooting glares at Minghao whenever he can?”

“I guess that makes us even, given he’s the one hanging around Rapunzel’s kid. And anyways, since when are you sticking up for Minghao? You two are sworn enemies.”

“We are, but unlike on the Isle, there are much greater enemies to worry about around here. The Auradonians have it out for all of us, no matter how ‘buddy-buddy’ we get with them,” you say. “You guys can make all the friendships you want, but in their minds, we’re still just villain scum.”

“You’re one to talk. I just saw the son of the guy your father tried to kill walk out of your dorm!”

“He’s not like them!” You argue. “He’s more like us than anything else. He listens and understands when I tell him things. He gets bullied by the kids here, and he’s one of them.”

“You have always been soft for the underdogs haven’t you,” Jeonghan says. His tone is condescending and you know he’s referring to Wonwoo.

“I’m just saying you can’t judge me when you’re doing the exact same thing. If you want to judge someone, maybe start with the people who are the actual enemy.” With that you slam your dorm door in Jeonghan’s face.

A few minutes later you hear a knock on the door and you all but growl. You storm over to the door and throw it open, expecting to see Jeonghan, but instead you see Wonwoo, his hands full of books. It really shouldn’t surprise you to see him, considering he lives here, but in all honesty you haven’t really seen him in a few days.

“Thanks Y/N, I couldn’t really open the door with my hands full.” Wonwoo walks into the room and dumps the books on his desk.

You stand at the door, staring at your best friend. You’re not sure what you’re feeling. Relief to see your best friend. Anger because you haven’t seen him in a few days. Sadness because you miss him and even though he’s right in front of you, you still miss him.

Wonwoo turns to look at you. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Uhm, uh…no,” you admit. You finally close the dorm door and trudge over to Wonwoo’s bed (it’s closer) before flopping down. “It’s like…too much has changed since coming here. I don’t see you anymore and Jeonghan and I got into a fight and everyone here sucks.”

Wonwoo slowly crawls up onto his bed as well, and draws you into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry we haven’t seen much of each other lately. I’m sorry you don’t like it here. I shouldn’t have forced you to-”

“No don’t,” you tell him. “I made the choice to come here, don’t blame yourself. I just wish…I wish it wasn’t like this. That’s all.”

“I know,” Wonwoo murmurs. “How about this…you’ll have me this whole weekend to yourself. Just us hanging out. How does that sound?”

“Wonwoo I would love to, but I…kind of have plans?”

“Plans?”

“Yeah…Mingyu’s supposed to be taking me to town to go shopping? Or something like that?”

“Mingyu…that’s…Hercules’ son?”

“Yeah…we’re kind of friends? He’s like the only person here I like, but that’s only because he’s not an asshole. He kind of reminds me of you, but he’s like a total extravert.”

Wonwoo chuckles at that. “Well I’d like to meet this Mingyu who’s been keeping you company. Maybe we could all spend time together?”

You bury yourself further into Wonwoo’s arms and smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

You’re not sure how it’s happened but Wonwoo and Mingyu get along really well, maybe a little too much, because now your days are spent with both Mingyu and Wonwoo, to the point where you don’t get a break from them. Like three peas in a pod, or whatever Fairy Godmother said to you. You don’t mind, you’re actually happy that Mingyu and Wonwoo get along so well, but it doesn’t cover up the fact that Auradonian’s have gotten worse, and now that Wonwoo is actively hanging around you again, he’s started to become at the end of their insults as well.

You can take the insults, but it makes your blood absolutely boil hearing them thrown at the two boys. There’s been plenty of times where they have to pull you away from the AKs, saying how you can’t turn into what they want you to. You really don’t care what happens to you, as long as they leave Mingyu and Wonwoo alone, but they do care what happens to you so you have to stay at least somewhat under control.

You’ve recently realized that you’d do just about anything for Mingyu and Wonwoo and as much as that scares you, it also doesn’t. You love them and they mean the world to you and as long as it took you to admit that for Mingyu, it’s true.

Which is why you’re here, standing at the Parents’ Day event, even though your dad is back on the Isle, most likely sitting in his chair and watching TV. Mingyu asked you to be here, so you came.

You, Mingyu, and Wonwoo are standing at the edge of the set up, staring at everyone else. You watch everyone with their families, smiling and hugging and laughing. You’re rightfully uncomfortable, but you try not to show that to Mingyu.

Your eyes sweep over the crowd again when they stop on a large figure at the entrance of the garden. You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, breaking the silence that you, Mingyu, and Wonwoo were standing in. “I didn’t know your dad would be making an appearance,” you mutter under your breath.

“Neither did I,” Mingyu responds.

Your hand automatically reaches for Wonwoo’s and he accepts, holding onto you tight. Mingyu excuses himself, telling you two not to move, before he moves to greet his parents. It looks like the three have a brief conversation before they start to make your way towards you and Wonwoo. You quickly avert your eyes so it doesn’t look like you were blatantly staring.

“Well son, let’s meet these friends of yours.” You hear Hercules’s booming voice before you see him, but it’s not long before Mingyu and his parents are standing in front of you.

Before anyone can say anything, Megara gasps. “You look…just like him.”

“Uh, Mom, Dad, this is Y/N and Wonwoo.” Mingyu shoots you an apologetic look.

“The…villain kids…” Hercules mutters.

“Nice to meet you sir,” you stick your hand out and you don’t miss the way Megara flinches a bit. Hercules wraps a large arm around his wife. You lower your hand.

“Hello Mr. Hercules, Mrs. Megara. You have raised a wonderful son. He’s been nothing but kind and accepting since we’ve met, and he’s shaped up to be a phenomenal friend,” Wonwoo says to the couple. They look less…on edge talking to Wonwoo. Maybe because he’s in an actual suit and you couldn’t be bothered to put on something nicer than a slightly wrinkled button up shirt and your nicest leather bottoms.

“Let’s meet some more of your friends, son.” Hercules claps a large hand onto Mingyu’s back and he stumbles a bit.

“Dad, I told you, I don’t have very many friends here.”

“Sure you do! Who couldn’t love this face,” Megara coos before pinching Mingyu’s cheek.

“A lot of people,” Mingyu mumbles softly so only you and Wonwoo hear.

“So Mingyu? These other friends?”

“I don’t have any other friends Dad!”

“You’re only friends are…the kids of the two worst villains of all time? No you’re lying, no son of mine would be friends with such degenerates!”

“Don’t call them that,” Mingyu growls. “Dad you’re being unfair.”

“Unfair? You’re friends with the children of Hades and Malficent.”

“So what? They are amazing people and you can’t judge them just because of where they come from. What makes them any different than Mom-”

“MINGYU!” Hercules booms. “That is no way to talk about your mother. Son, we’re very disa-”

“When are you not! Why did you even show up today? You’ve always been too busy for me and when you do pay attention to me, it’s to tell me how much I don’t live up to your expectations. Just leave already,” Mingyu spits out. “I don’t know why any of us are here, let’s go.” Mingyu roughly grabs your arm and tugs you away, Wonwoo following.

Mingyu storms all the way to the dorms before he calms down. He’s still grabbing onto your arm tightly and you gently try to pull your arm out of his grip before he realizes.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry Y/N. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. High pain tolerance.”

You three stand in silence as Mingyu sighs. “I’m…I’m sorry about them.”

“It's not your fault,” Wonwoo is quick to assure him.

“I should have known-”

“You couldn’t have known anything. It’s fine, nothing we’re not used to,” you say softly. “Let’s just…go back to the dorm, yeah?”

It’s somber as you walk back to the dorm, and nobody says anything as you crawl into your bed, Mingyu and Wonwoo following, sandwiching you in the middle. The silence continues as you hold each other, until you eventually drift to sleep.

You’re rarely guilty about anything, but you are a bit guilty for not seeing Jeonghan in a while. He is, admittedly, your friend, and you haven’t seen much of him since Mingyu and Wonwoo have gotten close. You blame yourself, but you start to rethink that thought when you catch him all but sneaking out of Minghao and Jun’s dorm one day.

“What the hell are you doing hanging around those guys?” You confront Jeonghan. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, but his face is somber.

“Listen Y/N, this might be something you want to stay out of.” Jeonghan’s tone isn’t threatening like it normally would have been. He is giving you a warning. He pushes past you.

“Jeonghan.” At the call of his name he stops, but doesn’t turn around. “When have you ever gotten into mischief without me?”

You see Jeonghan’s shoulders rise and fall before he turns back around. “We can’t talk about it here.”

He takes you to his dorm. You sit down at his desk, noting the way their room still looks the exact way when they moved in.

“You can’t tell anyone about this. Even if you don’t approve, you can’t stop us. You have to promise me that Y/N.” Promises are a big deal on the Isle because they’re enforced. You break a promise, and you’ll get your arm broken in return.

“...I promise.”

“Minghao, Jun, Chan, and I are gonna take down the crown. We’re tired of the way we’re being treated. They promised a better future and all they’re doing is making us want to go back to the Isle, which is saying something.”

“Take down the crown…?”

“Yeah. We’ve already started a plan. We’re gonna make all of Auradon pay, and then maybe we’ll even take over the world.” Jeonghan shrugs his shoulders.

“Woah, wait, hold up. What?”

“Y/N. C’mon dude you’re like…one of the evilest people I know. Don’t you get it? We’re gonna break into the Museum of Cultural History, get Fairy Godmother’s wand, and finally do what our parents couldn’t all those years ago.”

You wonder how long the boys have been planning this. You wonder if they would have told you if you didn’t catch them before they executed the plan. Knowing Minghao, probably not.

“We’d actually really appreciate your help if you’d like to give it. Wonwoo’s too, but I think he’s put all the villainy behind him,” Jeonghan scoffs. “Waste of potential. The son of Maleficent, and all he wants to do is read books.”

“What are you going to do when you do take down the crown?” You ignore the dig at Wonwoo, because if you don’t Jeonghan would be sporting a black eye.

“Not sure yet. If you’re worried about us hurting your precious little Wonwoo, don’t worry. No matter how much of a goody two shoes he is, he’s still one of us.”

“And everyone else in Auradon?” You think that if Jeonghan lays even a finger on Mingyu that you’ll castrate him.

“They’ll bow to us now, and do what we say. It doesn’t matter what happens to them, it will be us who have the power. So are you in or what?” Jeonghan stares back at you expectantly.

“I-” You contemplate your options.

You think about every Auradonian who’s scoffed at you and whispered behind your back. You think about the condescending remarks on teachers' tongues and the shifty looks the parents keep sending you. You think about your father who scoffed at you everytime you tried to tell him about your newest villainous act. You think about Wonwoo and Mingyu whose safety needs to be ensured.

You look back up at Jeonghan. “I’m in.”

“Nice to have you,” Minghao drawls as you walk into the next meeting with Jeonghan. “Finally came to your senses?”

“Just figured you’d need a lot more brains to counteract your stupidity,” you retort.

“Whatever the reason is,” Jun butts in, “we’re happy you’re here. Besides Minghao, you’re the only one of us who can use magic.”

“Technically, Wonwoo ca-” Your glare cuts Jeonghan off.

“What even are all of your powers?” Chan asks you.

You give them a run down of all of your powers. Fire and smoke manipulation, like your dad. High pain tolerance and increased strength because of demi-god powers. Manipulation of souls and the dead. All the basics.

“Yeah…yeah we can work with this,” Minghao mutters. “With the plans we have…we could put them into action by the end of next week.”

“And you’re 100% in?” Jun questions you.

“Yeah…of course. We’ll make them all pay.” Pay for how they treat you. Pay for how they Wonwoo. Pay for how they treat Mingyu. Pay for all of it.

“Well then, it looks like we have a team.” And something about that excites you.

A week after your first meeting with the other VKs you guys have a solid plan of action, and you’re ready to execute it. It’s a bit strange to actually be getting along with Minghao and Jun, but you decide they’re not as bad as they used to be. Or maybe you’re just finally giving them a chance. Either way, you find that you can stand to be around them for prolonged periods of time.

They’re not the only ones that you’ve had new revelations for. Sitting in the meetings, planning to take over Auradon, you think about how you’re doing it all for Mingyu and Wonwoo. Your boys. You’d honestly go to war for them if they asked. You think you may love them, but then again you’re not exactly sure what love feels like. Nonetheless, they mean the world to you, and so you’ll do everything in your power to give them what they deserve.

You hate to admit it, but you’re also a bit excited to get back into villainy. You know it’s the morally wrong thing to do, but when have you ever cared about morally correct? You miss the thrill you get from plotting something and carrying it out. The only time you ever feel a bit bad about it is when you come home to see Mingyu and Wonwoo waiting for you in the dorm.

“Where have you been going the past few nights? I miss you.” Mingyu pulls you into a hug, resting his head on yours.

Your heart swells. “I’ve just been with Jeonghan. I feel bad for leaving him out to dry lately. You know I do have other important people in my life than just you two.”

“When has anyone ever been more important to you than me?” Wonwoo questions and well, he’s got you there.

“We are still your favorites though, right?” Mingyu looks at you with his big puppy dog eyes and you roll your eyes but inside your stomach flutters with butterflies.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You push yourself out of Mingyu’s arms so you can start to get ready for bed. “Are you spending the night again Mingyu?”

“Can I?” He looks at you hopefully and grins wide when you nod.

You crawl into bed and Mingyu follows after, and even though Wonwoo was on his own bed, he makes the short trip over to yours so he can crawl in too. Snuggled in between both of them, you think about how there’s nowhere else you want to be. Even if you don’t have a label, you sleep peacefully knowing that everything you do, it’s for them.

You’re nervous, but only because you want things to go well. You don’t think you’re going to fail, but if you do, you just want to make sure your boys are okay. Minghao has decided that today is the day you’re going to execute the plan and then after this, everything will be over. You guys will finally be safe, and happy, and together.

The plan is to meet up at the museum where Jeonghan and Minghao will steal the wand while you, Chan, and Jun will do damage control. From there you will storm the castle and capture the royal family, before finally taking over all of Auradon. There’s a lot that could go wrong, but in turn there’s a lot that could go right which is a risk you have to take.

You quickly crawl out of bed, through the foot of the bed so you don’t have to crawl over the body on either side of you. You slip out of bed and start to pull off your pajamas to grab your clothes.

“Y/N?” The soft, sleepy voice stops you in your tracks. You don’t want to turn around, because if you do you’ll be tempted to just crawl right back into bed with your boys, but you have to do this, for them. “Y/N what are you doing? It’s late.”

“I have to go. I need to go do something right now,” you say as you continue to pull on your clothes.

“What could you possibly have to do at 3 am?” The other tempting voice in your bed sounds out. Great now they’re both awake.

“I have to go meet with Jeonghan, it’s very important and I promise I’ll tell you everything later, but just know that everything that happens has a reason. If things seem wrong, don’t freak out, it will all work out.”

“What are you talking about?” You hear shuffling in bed, meaning that most likely Wonwoo is sitting up.

“Just explain to us where you’re going, Y/N,” Mingyu says. “Why are you meeting Jeonghan at 3 am? You two have been very suspicious lately.”

“...If I tell you something, you have to promise you’ll keep it secret, okay?”

“Oh this is serious,” Wonwoo mutters.

“We promi-”

“We promise to our best ability to keep it secret,” Wonwoo cuts Mingyu off, having more experience dealing with Isle promises, “but we cannot promise our full secrecy if we deem fit to bring others in.”

That’s a good enough answer for you, and you finally turn around to face the two boys. They’re both sitting up, staring at you with half-tired looks on their faces. “The past couple weeks I’ve been meeting with Jeonghan and the other VKs. They’re planning on stealing Fairy Godmother’s wand and taking over Auradon, and I’m going to help them.”

“What!” Wonwoo roars, fully awake now. He quickly climbs out of bed to approach you. Mingyu hastily follows, a more concerned look on his face.

“Are you going to be safe? Did the others force you into this?” Mingyu, always the caretaker, rushes to make sure you’re okay.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, does not share the same sentiments. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you know how risky and stupid this is?”

“Yes I know how stupid this is, okay, but it’s just something I have to do. I can’t give you all the details right now, but you guys just have to trust me.”

“Trust you? You’ve been off planning world domination with Minghao,” Wonwoo says.

“I know, okay, and I’m sorry and I promise we’ll talk about it later, but I really have to go.”

“What are we supposed to do? Sit around and wait while you just take over the kingdom?”

“Y/N, I don’t like this. What if you get hurt, or caught? Do you trust the others to have your back?” Mingyu asks, your safety still being his biggest concern. “Why can’t you just stay here?”

“I have to do this Gyu…I can’t keep living here like this, but I can’t go back to the Isle. Things won’t get better unless we make them better.” You grab his hand in yours and squeeze tight. “You have to understand what I mean.”

“I’m with Mingyu on this one Y/N. I don’t want you doing this without any kind of back up.”

“Then join us,” you blurt out. Both of them look like they want to say something, but the words die on their tongues. “Everyone here treats both of you like shit. Don’t you want to do something other than sit back and let them? You two both deserve the world, so let me give it to you.” You reach up and cup both of their faces one hand each.

“Wh-what about-”

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure everything out. But I need you both to be with me.” You recall the words Wonwoo told you long ago. “I can’t live a fulfilling life without you two in it.”

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes out. You’re a bit surprised he’s the one who responded first.

“Okay?”

“Okay. I- I love you. If this is what you choose, then I’ll follow you to the end of the earth.”

You ignore the way you feel your stomach flutter at his words. You instead face the other man standing in front of you. “Woo?”

“You trust those four?”

“I trust they’re doing what’s best for us.”

“And we’ll be free?”

“No evil parents. No royal bullies. We make the rules now.”

“And it will be us together?”

“Forever.”

Wonwoo’s eyes search your face to make sure you’re sincere, but you both know you’ve never lied to Wonwoo a day in your life. His eyes flick over to Mingyu before looking back at you. “Okay.”

Relief surges through your body and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so powerful in your life. Mingyu pulls you into a hug and you snuggle into his large chest. You feel Wonwoo wrap himself around your back, once again sandwiching you between the two men.

The others can wait a few minutes, you think as you relax in their arms. You relish in the comfort of their warm bodies pressed into yours, enjoying the calm before the storm. You’re not worried though. You’re not worried at all. You have your two boys by your side and a plan to take over the world, what else could you need?

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anika-ann · 4 months

Text

Back and Forth - part 2

Part 2 - Flashes Back

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 8100

Chapter summary:

In which you have some time to reminisce and do so even when the time isn't right.

Series masterlist

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mention of gunshot wounds, hints of unhealthy relationship to pain, references to A+ parenting (bad bad parenting) and consequential unhealthy mindsets, a bit of angst

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

A/N2: As you might have gathered from the warnings and the title of the chapter, our ‘reader’ will be getting some backstory. My ‘readers’ in longfics always have them. To me, that allows for greater depth of the character and their behaviour. If that bothers you, this story might not be for you. Thank you for understanding and enjoy 💕

Steve Rogers’ idea of punishment for disobeying orders was not of the most appealing to many, but it sat quite well with you.

Naturally, it wasn’t that you adored going through mountains of documents with plenty of useless and a few useful words, nor you liked the idea of being benched and having to sit in a corner as if you had been bad when all you had tried to do was your job; that you did not like one bit. But conveniently, being assigned to paperwork also meant you got a reprieve from physically taxing missions. Given the fact that the first three days after having been shot – even if not – were always the most exhausting, particularly when having to hide the pain for long hours, you certainly welcomed it. To a point anyway.

Unsurprisingly, a week later, you were still feeling significant echoes of the ache in your stomach; and yet, you cherished every physical activity where you could feel the tugging on the edges of your spectre’s wound. You didn’t revel in the pain itself, but you welcomed its presence nevertheless, because being without pain was addicting; it was the sweetest calling many people would answer to happily. But you knew better; the withdrawals would have been brutal and unforgiving, and most of all, inevitable, once you’d return to the field.

You tried not to dwell on the luxury of resting you had been provided, but that didn’t mean you didn’t appreciate the assignment given.

Isolation, even when it whispered of being the persona non grata and with the invisible threat of never being chosen for another mission with the prestigious team hanging above your head, still offered some relief. Whether you deserved the reprieve was questionable, but you tried not to ponder over that too much, knowing that the direction the scales were tipping towards to was not in your favour.

Would you rather be in the centre of action, trying your best to fix what you had messed up? Absolutely. One hundred percent. But the punishment was convenient; so convenient for you that you would have even wondered whether Natasha blabbed on you, hadn’t your training schedule remained unchanged. You had a feeling that if she had revealed your secret, you wouldn’t be allowed to as much as throw a single punch. That and Mr. Captain America would have pulled a two-hundred-slide presentation about why not telling the team, fighting when not being entirely fit and being reckless in his eyes was a terrible idea. That was, if he would have even cared.

It did not look like he cared at all.

He certainly didn’t seem to care about the fact that you had missed the opportunity to retrieve intel about whatever fuckery Hydra had been working on to neutralise the all-things-American man – or at least he hadn’t confronted you about it. In fact, all of the Avengers seemed to shrug off the threat to Steve, as if it was just another Tuesday for them. You supposed such nonchalance came with years being an idol inspiring as much hate as adoration, but you couldn’t say that it helped you sleep easier at night.

In all fairness however, this nonchalance didn’t mean that your discovery was ignored completely.

You had had at least three sessions with Doctor Banner who attempted to make sense of the pieces of intel you had seen and was able to recall. You might have remembered barely anything, your brain too busy registering the sudden pain piercing your abdomen, but Banner’s genius was able to come up with options after you had shared the scraps, which in return helped you build on a little bit more, some of the graphics he constructed familiar. The most plausible option now seemed to be that the stupid Nazi worshippers had somehow got their filthy tentacles on Steve’s medical data and were on their way to develop an antiserum – a chemical compound with a to-be-known catalyst that would reverse the effect of Erskine original formula. Apparently, the lazy bastards had just given up on trying to replicate it – and deciding that when they couldn’t create, they’d at least destroy. Fucking typical.

You had no doubt Steve had been presented with this information; the whole of the Avengers probably had been. You were rather sure you had seen Barnes hover by Steve’s side a little more than usual, probably suspecting a leak of classified data from the Tower, thus seeing a potential traitor everywhere. Yet, no one came raining holy fire on your head for missing the golden opportunity to gather all the intel; least of all the man himself.

Steve Rogers, irritatingly enough, was being perfectly civil. Of course, he was; he was meant to be perfection personified, after all. He nodded in hello politely when he met you in the hallway. When you encountered him in training, he acted indifferent, treating you just like any other recruit who joined the Avengers ops with varying frequency. He fixed your stance quietly if needed, moving on as slowly or as quickly as with anyone else, no lingering angry or disappointed glares.

Steve Rogers was a damn master of a poker face. You wanted to scream; you wanted him to be angry with you. You wanted him to be pissed, to yell at you again and then give you the opportunity to fix your mistakes and prove that you were able to do better than you had. You wanted to get back to the field. You wanted to jab your index finger into that chest of his, looking so ridiculously firm, and do something. Anything.

Obviously, after the very public incident, you wouldn’t dare as much as to say a single word against his commands. The fact that you were terrified it would be the last drop to his tiny yet enormous goblet of patience with you and you’d be out for good played a significant role in that behaviour of course; but in all fairness, you hadn’t felt the need to speak up.

In the end, you accepted the creeping feeling of gratitude to him for just sweeping your screaming match and the failure itself under the rug, hoping it wouldn’t blow up the next time you would disagree. When he told everyone that they had done a good job after a training, meeting gazes of each recruit, he met yours the last. The sincerity in his eyes and words didn’t diminish as he did so.

Captain Rogers pulled you out of the time-out nine days after your colossal failure he himself had had a hand in; you learned as much from Natasha’s message inviting you to the grand meeting regarding the next dangerous op that was too much for the Avengers to handle alone. Why? Because they expected too many unpredictable unfriendlies: the children of New York.

The mid-May sunrays warmed your cheeks as you walked at steady pace, eyes vigilant in the face of laughter, squeals and endless chatter, colourful lights and rivers of people pouring over the lawn and paths of Central Park. The breeze already carried the heat of summer, but not unbearably so, a gentle touch on your skin and in your hair, along with the scent of water, blooming flowers and barbeque. For most people, the combination equalled the epitome of leisure, a nice weekend with family or friends. Good. That was what you assumed you had all aimed for today.

Today being The Avengers’ Day.

You had only known the basics of how this day had come to life. When senator whatshisname, trying to push his agenda and boost his campaign for re-election, had first came up with the idea, he had inspired as much approval as blatant hate among people, the controversy involved evident. The Avengers’ themselves didn’t shy away from the ambiguity of their work. Their statement regarding the suggestion – no doubt prepared with the aid of a whole team of publicists – spoke of gratitude and futility at once, of honour and accountability in one breath. It was the honesty, you supposed, what actually tipped the scales in the favour of naming a day after them after all – the acceptance of imperfection, the acknowledgement of destruction which was to some more visible than the heroism that every single one of them had displayed during the Battle of New York.

And so 16th May became The Avengers’ Day, a celebration of heroism and a way of giving back to those who believed in heroism the most, to those who regarded them with the least critical eye, too young to truly understand all implications of their work.

Since the eventual acceptance of the celebration could reek of narcissism, the Avengers had decided to spend the larger part of 24 hours by giving indeed. Children loved it, parents were grateful, and the Avengers got to see that despite some workdays dragging on for weeks, their work not only made a difference, but also inspired others to be better. Win-win-win.

The feast started in the morning and lasted till the sun started to set in late afternoon; and the generous time the heroes graced the public with was filled with games and fun, not unlike many events hosted on the World’s Children Day would have. Except this one had all the Avengers – original ones and associates – to join the party, spreading joy and hope.

The reason why you and tens of other agents walked the park through and through with alert gazes was simple: a joyful event like this came with its dark side. With as many high-profile targets in one place, the security measures were off the charts. Any agents working for the Avengers Initiative aligned with SHIELD who weren’t on the most time-sensitive mission was roaming the crowds, Stark’s drones were in service, and FRIDAY had been keeping an eye out for any chatter on the dark web and various forums months before the planning of the specific event even started. Anyone who was able to contribute did so; because frankly, the images Avengers made for were too precious to pass on.

Captain America playing frisbee with a group of kids as another fifty of those waited in line; Black Widow leading gymnastic class and offering to hold up guards for any brave-enough opponent to try and kick and punch, with enthusiastic fans for both parties; Thor teaching Asgardian minuet to anyone who was old enough to walk, a circle of children forming around him any time he started to hum a tune as old as time in a language that made children giggle and appealed to something ancient in the soul of every adult; Bruce performing so-called ‘science magic’, facing the sea of curious eyes with slightly uncomfortable smile but undeniable warmth; Hawkeye surrounded by targets with various non-threatening weapons, from foamy soft balls to arrows with suction cups at the end; Iron Man, mostly parading around in full armour – bless the man, he had to be so hot in it– in charge of the music, fireworks and all wonders of technical progress, capturing attentions of little brainiacs and admirers alike.

The newer additions to the official team didn’t stay behind either, with Winter Soldier handling waterguns battle, shy at first, but ecstatic at the squeals of joy from children running back and forth, with generous crowds of young male-attracted audience who were not blind to the fact that someone had the brilliant idea to put one of the supersoldiers in charge of water while he was wearing a thin t-shirt only; the Scarlet Witch entertaining crowds with her actual magic and no tricks; Vision, while thoroughly distracted by her, trying his best to explain riddles and puzzles to whoever had found their voice in the face of an actual humanoid slash artificial intelligence; the Falcon in charge of various monkey bars and improvised parkour playground, sometimes involuntarily becoming a monkey bar himself for several kids at once; the War Machine, bless his heart, handling the drawing competition in which there were only winners, because wow, doesn’t this look just like me if I had my armour repainted with flowers to blend in better?

Every single one of them made you smile despite your better judgement. Each of them had their own way of interaction with the little admirers, but all of them made it work somehow. With humour, gentleness, surprising humbleness – most of the time anyway – and an easy compliment or words of encouragement on their tongue, depending on whether their fans had done really well or not so much. There was enough of both – but they handled it with grace or at least with dign-

The sudden sniffle in the sea of laughter had you automatically snap your head to the right, just in time to see the first tears roll down the girl’s reddened cheeks. You remembered seeing her at Natasha’s station a few moments ago; she couldn’t be more than 7-8 years old, but she had been excellent, earning a first bump from the spy and a cherry flavoured lollipop when she had managed to touch her toes and had put her ankle on the high bar with ease.

By the looks of it, she hadn’t done so well at the shooting range, her arrows lying scattered all over, not one having stuck in the target.

It wasn’t your place to try to cheer her up, even as Clint was busy with another five children, you reasoned; but your gut twisted a bit at the sight, your feet having a mind of their own, lips arranging into as supportive smile as you were capable of.

A strong arm wrapping about the girl’s shoulder, words of comfort already spilling from the man’s lips – the father, you assumed – had you freeze mid-step barely seven feet from her.

The gentle timbre on his voice, the hug coming as a second nature, the little huff of quiet laugh without a single trace of malice. The large teary eyes, soon hidden in the man’s shirt as she squished her face into his shoulder, a little yelp with a tiny giggle as he lifted her off the ground with quite some effort, even as barely any showed on his face.

Your insides clenched tighter, nausea tugging at your stomach that had nothing to do with your injury over a week ago.

“Yeah, we’re gonna practise at home for next year, yeah? You’ll get the lollipop next time, I’m sure. You’ll be as great as the Eagle-eye himself!”

The girl let out another watery laugh, pulling softly at his ear. “It’s Hawk-eye, dad!”

The feigned confused expression on the dad’s face told everyone in the ten-mile radius he was very well aware and was only trying to cheer his daughter up, but she seemed oblivious. “Really? Wow. My memory… good thing I have you!”

“Yup!”

“So, I forgot… where were we heading next, can you remember?” he asked in all seriousness, confusion deepening and the enthusiastic high-pitched scream of “ICECREAM!” nearly ruptured your eardrums as the father walked past you, your feet having taken roots in the ground.

“That’s right!” you heard in reply, the sounds suddenly distant as your own breath and the pulsing on your own heart filled your ears.

It was wrong; it was so so wrong and you had no right and you had no time for that, because you had a job to do here, quite important job requiring your full attention, but the following cry of “MAMA!” flooded your veins with envy and pierced your heart through and through. The sun shone too bright all of sudden as your gaze unwittingly traced their path, the simple soothing kiss on the girl forehead sending a shiver through your body, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Potential enemies.You were supposed to scan the crowds for potential enemies and threats, not to watch happy families or let your mind wander. You weren’t supposed let yourself ponder over what it was like; loving arms and distractions awaiting even in the face of a failure instead of a cold shoulder and ignorance. A sweet smile and conspiratorial looks exchanged when fake-arguing about the acceptable number of scopes of ice-cream as a reward. Free affection given instead of a free lesson in the form of shattering the illusion of unconditional love. Living in the blissful ignorance, believing in the second biggest lie fairytales had fed us all, postponing the harsh encounter with reality. What was it like to believe in those lies at that age still, maybe even after that? Did it hurt more or less when reality came knocking later on?

The good did not always win.

And love and affection were earned.

They were earned through rivers of sweat and spitted and spilled blood, through swallowed tears and well-masked pain. And only, only when it all led to success. To perfection. To the impossible standard you all so desperately clawed at, unaware you clawed at your own flesh instead, passing the need to win the most important race of your lives on and on for generations.

Your own father hadn’t been perfect; he was far from it and perhaps that was why he was so appealing to your mother, the rising star of the biochemistry field. Too young, too foolish, too easily seduced by the idea of an average man who would simply reflect her blinding glow instead of overshadowing it.

Getting pregnant robbed her of the job opportunity of a lifetime; the chance at leading her own team in a prestigious laboratory at Harvard. With the pregnancy marked high-risk from the start, you sentenced her to turning down the offer; and another never came. She could have shined like a full-time mother instead and dedicated homemaker then, some would argue, since her goal in life was exceptional excellence in its very essence; except she had never got pregnant again, not for the lack of trying as you later learned. An average worker; an average mother. Her worst nightmare with one common denominator: a problematic daughter. How could she have pursued her career with having to deal with a child like that? The kid was always getting into trouble, leaving its mother to sacrifice everything.

It didn’t matter that your mother’s ‘extremely problematic daughter’ had the GPA of 3.91. It didn’t matter that the very same daughter regularly fought tooth and nail to compete in world championships in gymnastics and succeeded, had been enrolled in ballet class as soon as she could stand and walk straight, only having to switch to box and jiujitsu when she didn’t look soft and elegant enough during her performances. It didn’t matter that all the time her mother spent with her at home happened to take place in separate rooms. It didn’t matter that the daughter was, for a lack of a better term, much more of a daddy’s girl.

Because she was exactly that. You were. Mommy was always busy in her office or her lab and you soon understood that she didn’t like you; but daddy, daddy cared. He cared, he found time and a kind word and a warm hug, always celebrated your victories – a little strict and profoundly disappointed when you failed. But he was there for you despite his extremely important job at the agency protecting the whole world, protecting the whole universe even. SHIELD.

To make a part of such prestigious organization, one must work hard; the hardest, your dad had always said. But you had the potential. You had so much potential to help keep humanity safe. You only needed to avoid distractions. You only needed to drop dead weight in the shape of people who’d rather play and laughed over silly magazines and videos a little too often. You only needed to do well, so well it was the best. And so you did. A dedicated student; a dedicated sportsgirl. Like your dad liked best.

Some might ring alarm bells at that point, but you were a much happier child than some. You had a loving father. You had friends. You had a dog, a lovely border collie named Sadie, so smart and curious and so damn hyperactive it took you at least two hours a day of running to wear her out. Your dad adored her, always praising you for taking such good care of her.

Until your care for Sadie took up too much of your time. It had to, since you got a B. Or perhaps you had spent too much time with friends outside of the study room…. Whatever it was, it eventually led even to a C.

That was the last drop.

And the thing was, both basis of your failure had easy solutions, truly; you came home one day to a house without a single trace of a dog having ever lived there. You could run to keep fit without it, after all – such was her sole purpose, you had realized too late. You were eleven years old.

Grounded with no phone, you could focus fully on your studies to improve the horrendous GPA. SHIELD academy didn’t accept anyone with a GPA worse than 3.98 after all; your mother only nodded along to your father’s flat voice reminding you. Her disappointment was nothing new, but your father’s was. His warm hand on yours, gently squeezing, a sharp contrast to his clinically cold voice, was like a lifeline for you to grip at, even at the age of sweet thirteen. He knew you could do this, if you’d get your head straight – you had the potential. He was so sure of it, he had so much faith in you. You needed to make him proud. And after screaming bloody murder and crying your eyes out in the shower, after punching so hard your knuckles bled, you did.

You had only managed to improve to 3.96 by the time you were seventeen, but you enrolled to the academy still, one of the youngest students in history, with whispers following you for the first months of your father’s involvement nevertheless. What did he do for living that he had managed to sneak you in? Oh, right, just an ordinary analyst, one of hundreds. He got his wife a post as well, in one of the labs at The Hub no less, so one had to assumed he was good at rubbing elbows with the right people, they said. These whispers were silenced fast however. And you graduated with honours and a reputation and got hand-picked by Agents Coulson himself.

And yet…

Your father scoffed. Why not the Avengers? Whispers might have been that Coulson’s team was the A-team of SHIELD, but half of your accomplishment had surely been built on the fact that half of SHIELD revealed themselves to be actually HYDRA, thus paving your road to the prestigious team by eliminating the competition. The night you shared the news was the first time you cried in years, having been so excited to tell your parents, to prove yourself at last, only to be remade into a disappointment all over again.

But working on Coulson’s team brought you genuine joy and a sense of pride; and in a way, the underground base and the jet felt more like home than your own. You were not blind to the fact that the team was like a dysfunctional family in its own right, somehow still functioning better than your own. Coulson, the father; May, the mother; Daisy, the prodigal daughter, the beloved sister to all. Many nosy protective siblings and aunts and uncles. You weren’t sure how you fit into the picture, but you supposed that in a way, you did. A distant cousin perhaps.

“We protect our own. We protect everyone. We leave no one behind. We have the opportunity to be a part of something bigger and we take it.”

It did feel good to be a part of something bigger.

Then, terrigenesis.

The nightmare of alien genetic engineering crept up on you slowly and then hit you full force, even as your mother was fascinated by it. It was the irony of fate that the exact thing your mother had been researching tore your family ties all together. You and your father both had been in the lab where your mother worked, with her, when the Inhumans misled by Jiaying attacked, throwing terrigenesis crystals everywhere.

Adapt or die, whispered the mist from the broken enriched minerals: but it was up to your genes to make that decision, not up to your will. Your father’s genes weren’t compatible, the mist killing him. When you woke up on a stretcher, your mother dryly informed you of his passing with a hint of accusation in her voice.

And yes. How dared you to survive when he didn’t? It was funny, really, when the answer revealed itself to be written in the genes she had passed on you. You both survived thanks to her; except where your DNA merged seamlessly with the new macromolecules, hers didn’t, not truly. Just enough to let her live, not enough to give her powers – another embodiment of her worst nightmare of averageness, because there was a flaw in her code. It was a strange kind of healing that. Receiving a genetic prove there was a fault in her and not you, as you had been made to believe your whole life.

She cut all ties when it took over two weeks to figure out what your power was.

In the span fourteen days, you had your world turned upside down. Lost both your father and your mother. And while you had questioned at times whether you had actually ever had them, the pain of loss burned so sharp it left no doubt.

Yes, it was true that you never had what the cute girl with elaborate braids and dedicated parents had; but you had still once had a family. Once, you had joined a strange found family as well, if only for a few months.

What could you do but wonder, like many times before, about where did you fit now?

The sudden chill running up your spine had your hair standing on the end, snapping you from your musings, making you realize your cheeks were damp; but your tears mattered little now.

You had good instincts – you had to. One didn’t survive as long as you did in a business as insane and brutal as this without them. And that was how you knew.

Something was off. Something, somewhere, someone.

Your eyes subtly scanned the crowd as you continued walking, unmistakably landing on Sam’s station. The sight would have made you grin, three different kids climbing him as if he was a part of the monkey bars installation again, but something was amiss--- no.

Natasha’s station, right behind Sam’s, her attention on a cute redhead dressed in all black like the spy herself. A figure reaching to the back of his pants under his hoodie blindly, eyes trained on his price.

Your blood ran cold, your heart thundering.

Oh no you don’t.

He was too far from your reach. There was no choice to make. You squinted your eyes and took in as much as you could in the split second; the unforgiving pavement and soft mattresses, a flowerbed of peonies to the right, a group of teenagers to the left. The five feet eight man in jeans and an oversized khaki hoodie, piercing gaze settled on Natasha’s figure ten feet away.

You squeezed your eyes shut, opening them to the barrel of a gun with a whisper of a released breath.

The second-long shock in the man’s face was more than enough of time to grab after his wrist and twist it, gunshot ringing and the bullet whizzing by your leg. It lodged in the firm pavement by your feet instead, your ears echoing the loud noise that turned several heads.

Time seemed to slow down, the blur of faces with mouths open in screams registering faster than the screams themselves.

Your fingers curled around the handle of the gun firmly as you spun your back to the attacker and elbowed him in the face with a satisfying crack, his legs buckling when your foot in tactical boots collided with his knee.

A smudge of crimson and more screams, one pale face shockingly calm in the heart of chaos.

Another shooter.

The gun got knocked out of your hand in the split second you shouted ‘Sam’s three o’clock!’, the punch to your gut almost as powerful as the relief flooding your veins when you caught a glimpse of the suddenly child-free Sam lunging after the other perpetrator.

Even as you doubled over in pain, the man missing your spectre’s past injury by a whim of fortune, years of training drilled into your bones had you kick out and squeeze; your leg closed around the man’s neck, thigh and calf trapping his head, your hips twisting, full weight of your body pulling him down.

The encounter with the concrete was harsh, your abdomen pulled at with sharp pain, but it wasn’t nearly as harsh as for the man finding himself on the ground with his windpipe between your thighs, struggling for a single breath. Before his arms could swing after you, you were releasing him and elbowing him hard in the face again. Knee digging to his gut, you grabbed his arm and used his weight to roll him over, his wrist locked to his shoulder blade with a groan of curses that were not for polite company.

You panted as you straddled his hips, grasping after his other helplessly flapping arm and curling it to his back with notable effort; bastard was still trying to put up a fight, even if an aimless one, relying purely on his advantage in strength. Too bad for him; you had knowledge of physics and anatomy play in your favour.

“Stay down,” you hissed through your teeth, gaze quickly lifting to look for someone with more official power that came with handcuffs.

You didn’t have to wait long – three blue uniforms appeared in your field of vision, one with distinct red and white stripes that had nothing to do with NYPD. Great. This guy.

The mass under your legs moved with vigour, having you automatically turn your attention back; and to twist the man’s arm further.

“Aghhh--- you bitch-“

“Gun,” you pointed out flatly as one of the uniforms approached, a subtle nod in the direction towards where you remembered seeing it last when it had got knocked out of your hand. A pair of handcuffs were passed over, allowing you to ease some of the pressure and rise to your feet as another officer took over your responsibility and hauled the man up. “Thank you, Officer.”

“Agent,” he nodded at you before his attention turned to the Captain, addressing him as well – but Captain Steven Grant Rogers wasn’t looking at him.

Your stomach somersaulted as you met his eye; his lips were set in a firm line, a furrow to his brow, probably due to disappointment in humanity and concern for the civilians. But that wasn’t the reason for your unease – because that much you had expected. What took you aback was the smile briefly passing his lips as he utterly ignored his rank being called and instead kept looking at you – was that a hint of pride on his face?

“Good job, Spectre,” he said firmly. “Thank you.”

You only blinked, lips parting, breaths still quick from the slightly unexpected exercise – but from his words as well. It wasn’t that Steve Rogers never voiced appreciation where it was due, because he did. But a thank you? For doing your job, the literal reason why you were there?

The ‘thanks’ left your lips unwittingly, but your posture straightened with purpose as you finally escaped the trap that his gaze had seemed to set for you.

“Captain,” the officer insisted, Steve’s gaze flickering to the man, his frown returning, most likely at the sight of the bloody mess you had done on the attacker’s face.

You instinctively looked to your right, where a similar scene was taking place only a few feet over with the man’s accomplice, under Natasha’s and Sam’s watchful eye. A smile passed over your lips as well, as small as it was.

She was okay and so was he. Good. It was time to go.

“You’ve got this, Captain Rogers?” you asked, turning back to Steve.

He nodded, slight confusion twisting his face. Cringing internally, you realized it sounded like you doubted he could. Well. You weren’t perfect. What else was new.

“Good.”

Closing your eyes, you snapped back at last, the scene suddenly in a distance.

And as if you snapped your fingers, Rogers’ whole demeanour changed. His head whipped right and left, eyes searching the crowd almost frantically; the distain which you were no stranger to was back in his expression, his lips a thin line. Despite yourself – because it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t matter – you felt the spark of satisfaction and relief at the rescue die out in an instant. Rogers looked angry. Very, very angry, and as his eyes locked on you, he rose to his full height, body turning to you, looking ready to stalk to you and give you a piece of his mind.

You gulped, hand curling into fist on an instinct, nerves firing along with a flare of outrage. Was he angry because you projected in front of all those people? Was he disappointed in the amount of blood you drew in public indeed? But you-

A heavy metallic hand landed on his bicep from the front, stopping him in his tracks.

Rogers’ gaze snapped to his best friend, a deep frown spoiling his handsome face; Bucky’s expression, on the other hand, you couldn’t read, but whatever he said to Rogers had him frown harder.

Yet, he turned back to the officers handling the two perpetrators, having your shoulders sag in relief.

You had already got one scream-down in front of the SHIELD and the AI audience; you’d happily take avoiding hitting replay in front of the general public. You made a mental note to thank Barnes with a t-shirt with a nerdy pun he seemed so fond of wearing for trainings or something.

“Saved by Buckaroo it seems,” a voice hummed nonchalantly behind you, making you literally jump, your wildly pounding heart spasming in your chest in fright.

Your body acted on instinct, ready to neutralize the threat, muscle memory faster recognition – you spun on your heels, a round-house kick in full force aimed at the attacker’s head, fists up and ready to strike.

You hissed as your shin hit metal, the impact vibrating through your tibia as the barely covered bone met Tony’s glove mere inches from his surprised face.

Shit. That was going to bruise like hell.

“Easy, Casper! Was here to make sure your real form doesn’t get blasted while your head’s in the clouds, not to scare you to death,” he quipped, the surprise on his face quickly replaced by a smirk. “Huh. Guess I’m more efficient than Pepper keeps telling me. My job here is done.”

He released your foot, your hands falling to your sides as well, stance easing as you let the familiarity wash over you. Just Tony Stark. Billionaire, former playboy, philanthropist. An easy smirk to his lips, a joke on his tongue and… a faint trace of concern in his eyes.

It was the last emotion you registered that made you pause, realization slowly dawning to you.

He was there to protect you. He was there to keep you safe, because you didn’t have the time think about your own safety with the threat on Natasha and Sam being imminent. Tony was right, even if his truth was waved into a snarky remark; you could have easily been hurt while you were out of your body. Yes, you were used to it and the danger was likely minimal, but you hadn’t even had the time to think that through and do the calculations.

Someone could have taken your gun. Had anyone been interested in that – which, since you weren’t as high-profile of a target here as others, wasn’t all that likely, but still possible – you could have not only been hurt, but technically also killed.

And yet, this understanding didn’t stun you nearly as much as the next one.

Yes, you could have been killed – except that you couldn’t have and you weren’t. No one stood a chance. Because Tony had noticed the situation. He protected you; just like that, with a small curl to his lips, as if it was no biggie.

You were more than bewildered, thoughts whirling in your head over and over in a bizarre loop.

He had quite literally stood by you. He should have gone for Sam and Natasha – they were the real Avengers. They were his friends. They had been in danger, which was the reason why you left yourself vulnerable in the first place. But he went to you, because suddenly, you were the one exposed. He came to protect you.

Blinking and coming back to your senses much slower than an agent should, your gaze zeroed on Tony’s relaxed face with his smirk having blended into more of a smile.

You didn’t have time to examine the kind of Twilight Zone you had entered. Instead, you licked your lips, your words as sincere and unshaken as you managed them.

“Thank you, Tony. Really.”

He shrugged, his smirk making a grand return, even as his eyes remained warm. “No problem, Slimer.”

“Did you just compare me to a green slippery monster?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, an involuntary grin tugging at your lips.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up before his mask clicked back into place, two shiny slits somehow watching you with similar amusement Tony was capable of.

“Honestly, I’m just shocked you know who Slimer is. What were you, minus fifteen years old when the movie came out?” he trailed off, disappearing to the crowd with several kids already following him, excitedly shouting for autographs.

You allowed yourself a brief moment to grin, a warm feeling – dangerously warm – curling in your chest. Most of Tony’s sympathies for you, when he showed them, probably stemmed from the fact that much like him, you were sometimes in opposition to Steve. But you’d take it. Just because he didn’t mean it in a particularly friendly manner, simply being this way with everyone, you couldn’t say it didn’t feel nice for a few moments to joke around as if you were friends indeed.

You should have known better; you did know better. Thinking like that was dangerous – a different kind of reckless than Captain Rogers had called you out on – but dangerous nevertheless. And yet, your lips stayed in a tiny smile as you shook your head and went to return to patrolling the park.

‘Went to’ with emphasis on never finishing your journey.

“Holy shit! That was so cool!”

You snapped your head to side to the girl’s voice, surprised to find a twelve-year-old – or a ten-year-old, or maybe fourteen, you had never been great at guessing once they got past a certain age – with a backpack on one shoulder looking at you with her mouth hanging open.

The image was so unfathomable you probably mirrored her expression despite your training to maintain a poker face in any situation.

“You can fly?!” she gasped, watching you with eyes so wide you would have worried if she was high had you had the capacity to worry.

“I--- uhm, technically, I can--- I can barely levitate-?” you stuttered, perplexed.

Hadn’t Iron Man, who could fly because he had literally built a suit in a cave just walked past? What was… why was she-

“And you glowed and then you were there kicking ass and then here—holy shit!” Language, your brain unhelpfully echoed, instead of aiding you to make sense of what was happening and to string together a full sentence in response. “I didn’t know any Avenger could do that!”

Was she distracting you? What was in that backpack? The easiest answer was schoolbooks, since The Avengers Day was a bit of a big deal but not enough to spare children a day at school, but what if it wasn’t—oh she was pulling it off her shoulder now. You straightened your posture, not having realized that you eased it and never fully returned to it after your encounter with Tony, fingers twitching towards your gun on instinct, nerves on fire.

Fuck, if they were recruiting children again-- what kind of an evil bastard you have to be to-

She pulled out a well-used notebook with various doodles on its cover, shoving it your way with an almost shy smile, a sharp contrast to her earlier vernacular.

“Can I get an autograph?”

For the second time in the past five minutes, your reaction was nowhere near as sharp and distinguished as an operative’s should be in the face of an unpredictable situation.

Get a damn grip, shouted a voice in the inside of your head, while the other one whispered this was some sort of a trick. How is this a trick?!

You forced a smile to your lips, trying to hide your uncertainty. Just a girlasking for an autograph. You faced aliens before for god’s sake. You had Kree macromolecules in your own damn DNA for crying out loud! You could handle a… fan?

“Sure, but… I don’t have a marker on me, I didn’t expect to--- give autographs,” you admitted, aiming for nonchalance and hopefully only missing by a half and a full mile.

“You kidding?!” the girl whisper-yelled incredulously, leafing through the notebook before shoving it into your hand and diving back into her backpack now sitting on the ground. You tensed briefly again, before she pulled out a black marker, holding it out as she shook her head. “Crazy… sorry, here.”

‘Crazy’ does not cover it, girl, believe me, you thought, wondering what the hell you should do. Should you just sign your name? Should you… write her name first? What was her name?

“Should I… write something like, for you, or…?”

“Yeah! That’s be cool! It’s… Daisy,” she said, slight annoyance creeping into her voice.

Despite your better judgement, one corner of your lips rose higher, this time sincerely.

“That’s real pretty name,” you commented as you wrote it down, earning a shrug.

“If you say so.”

“I have a… friend named Daisy. She’s pretty cool,” you hummed, swallowing against the lump in your throat as you called her a friend. Could you call her that?

“Can she fly or levitate too?” the girl asked, sounding a little snarky – ah. Definitely a teenager then.

Should try to make your name readable or scratchy, as you usually write? Actually, should you write your name or simply Spectre? Probably the latter. She wouldn’t even know your name, poor girl would probably be disappointed later.

You wrote your codename then, replying to her absently.

“I’d say, yeah. She controls vibrations with her hands-“

“You know Quake?!” Daisy cried out, making your gaze snap back to her, her eyes lighting up even more than before.

Despite the bite of jealousy – because of course she would adore Daisy Johnson, the Quake herself, many people did, hell, you admired her too – you had to supress a smile. For a teenager, Daisy was awfully open about her emotion. Cringe was dead to her – she let herself express her excitement freely and unwittingly added herself on the list of people you could admire and envy.

“Yeah, I know Daisy… Quake. She’s pretty great, huh?” you said, closing the marker and notebook at last, handing it to her, watching her put it away and shrug.

“Yeah, I guess… Can’t all be as cool as her, huh?”

The drop of sadness colouring her voice blue had something in your snap. Uh-huh, no. Not today. No unreachable standards for her. Not to mention that Quake’s coolness also came with a lot of crap. This was not happening, not on your watch.

This girl, this Daisy, was open in her emotion still – and it was beautiful. She was beautiful. She was so damn precious that the instinct to protect – the same oh no, you don’t – that had flared up upon seeing the attacker earlier lit up your chest and your brain finally caught up to being a damn grown-up as the girl shrugged her backpack back on.

“Hey… I know you probably hear that all the time, but even though you share a name with her, you can be awesome in a completely different and totally your own way.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks for the autograph,” she said, a hint of a smile playing in the corner of her mouth. And not thanks for the unsolicited advice, you could practically hear her thoughts screaming. You just became another boring adult.

Well. You might as well do it properly – because this was important. Truly important.

“I just want to say that you really made my day, hell, probably my week, just by asking for an autograph. And by being nice,” you said, as sincerely as you could.

And you meant it – whatever had just happened felt like a fever dream. You had genuinely had no idea what she had wanted when she first addressed you. You had honestly believed it was some kind of a trick, another attack in making, as messed up as that was. She’d deserve an award for not saying whatever after your strange reaction. And another one for not turning on her heel when you realized you sounded like one Captain America a few moments later. Still standing there, listening to whatever crap you had to say to her.

“Sometimes you don’t need to have actual superpowers that can cause an earthquake to move Heavens and Earth. Just being a good person can make real miracles. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

She watched you with an expression on her face that spoke clearly of just how unconvinced she was by your words – and how she was feeling the infamous teenage cringe now. But hey, you tried. Speaking of which.

“’cause they’re just full of bull,” you added.

Daisy snorted at last, one corner of her lips twitching up a bit, her irises sparkling in amusement and you called that a victory.

“Right. Thanks for the autograph. See ya ‘round.”

“Sure, Daisy. It was nice meeting you,” you replied as she beckoned her chin in a hi and spun on her heels, walking back into the sea of people without looking back, disappearing from your sight.

Shaking your head, wondering whether you actually got hit in the head before Tony got to your actual body to protect it and were now suffering a concussion and hallucinations, you finally stepped out, ready to roam through the park and continue monitoring for potential threats – because that was your purpose here. That was your task. The Avengers had theirs and you and other agents had your own. You were here to serve as a part of the security team managing this event; the Avengers were here to inspire. You were nowhere close to being an Avenger the same Steve, Tony, Natasha or Sam were. You weren’t a symbol.

And yet, it was… nice to feel like you almost could, at least for one person. The feeling was strange, doubts already creeping in, a voice telling you to me much humbler and more realistic, but still. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience, not at entirely awful feeling. You weren’t exaggerating when you told Daisy she made your week.

As your attentive gaze scanned the crowd, tuned to more danger specifically, you overlooked the tall broad figure with his head slightly tilted to side still, as he had been focusing his enhanced hearing to your past conversation. You missed the little smile that curled Steve’s lips upon doing so too, blissfully ignorant of the lecture about self-preservation he had had on his tongue when he had originally made his way to you, but swallowed it in order to let you have your moment.

Reckless or not, you had saved lives today – he couldn’t argue with that. You saved lives of his friends. He wasn’t above being grateful; and he wasn’t entirely blind to the fact that besides reckless, you had also showed again that you were selfless, which appealed to him a lot more.

As he returned to his station, Natasha having dealt with the attackers’ transfer, he was still smiling, anger and worry having evaporated completely.

Next chapter

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Thank you for reading 💕 This was a long one, but you made (me to you AND me)... let me know your thoughts 💕

I hope December had been kind to you 🥰

Sidenote: For those who haven't watched Agents of SHIELD and weren't satisfied with the amount of info in the chapter: The exposure to the Terrigen Mists, or Terrigenesis is a process allowing Earth Inhumans to inhale the Mists obtained from the use of the Terrigen Crystals, in order to activate their Inhuman genes and ascend as meta-humans. (https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Terrigenesis) Given the presence of the genes, onyl descendants of certain lineage are able to ascend; they are descendants of humans who were experimented on thousands of years ago by the Kree race visiting Earth and trying to create an army. Those without these genes present in their DNA are killed upon exposure.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #inhuman reader #shield agent reader #back and forth #anika ann

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