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darklove9314-blog · 3 years

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Shadow and Flames:A Nessian/Azriel Fanfic (NSFW)

When Nesta had first thought fantasized about taking both Cassian and Azriel into her body it had been innocent enough. She had thought it would never go further than a fantasy as she stated up at the ceiling of her bedroom of the House of Wind. A pulsing need between her legs at the thought of a quick release.

Sighing, Nesta raked up her night gown exposing herself as she closed her eyes letting thoughts of Cassian and Azriel shrift from the forefront of her subconscious while her fingers made their way inside of her.

She bit down on her lip, plunging her fingers in deeper imagining it was Azriel’s cock inside of her while she plunged two of her other fingers into her mouth imagining it was Cassian’s cock inside of there taking his pleasure as hard as he could wantinv nothing more than to spill down her throat.

She was so lost in her ecstasy that when both their names fell from her lips, she had not heard the door open. As she opened her eyes to see both the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed staring down. A look of primal heat in both their gaze as she snapped her legs shut, but it was too late, they had already spelled her need between her legs. Had heard their names off of her lips.

“Don’t stop on our account, Nes.” Cassian teased, cocking his head to the side, his hands traveling to the pulls and stays of his pants. Her blue-gray eyes flickered to where his cock was straining against it.

“We wouldn’t want to interrupt your fantasy.” Azriel added, his shadows swirling around him.

“You want me to-“ Nesta started, but the look in Cassian’s eyes halts her.

“She smells so delightful that it makes me want a taste Az.” Cassian stated making Nesta throb at the thought of Cassian’s tongue tasting her. “Would you like me to taste you while Azriel watches, Nes?”

Nesta’s eyes looked between the two of them, shocked. She knew they were close. Knew they had been best friends for centuries, but she had never imagined that they would actually like to do this.

“Are you two-okay with this?” She asked as a mischievous smile crossed Cassian’s and a wicked smile crossed Azriel’s.

“We’ve done it before.” Azriel admitted, his eyes traveling over Nesta’s body.

“We just never knew that you would also fantasize about sharing both of us.” Cassian admitted to her. “So what do you say Nesta? Do you want to make that fantasy of yours come true?”

Nesta’s breath hitched up, her heart raced at the mere thought of the two illyrians before her taking their pleasure while pleasuring her in the process.

“If I want to stop at any point-“ She started.

“Then we’ll stop.” Cassian agreed, primal hunger now in his eyes as he looked at the wetness pooled between her thighs.

“Yes.” Nesta agreed.

It didn’t take Cassian long to make his way over to her bed, grabbing her legs gently and pulling her forward, so they now rested on his broad shoulders as he knelt before her.

Azriel’s hands went to his leathers removing the pulls and stays as he removed his enormous cock from them. Making Nesta’s eyes widen as the first exploration of Cassian’s tongue started.

Azriel’s eyes watched them as Cassian continued to taste her, opening her wider so he could get his fill of her. Nesta’s head tilted back at the pleasure of it. The feeling so intense. The thrill of having Azriel look upon her as Cassian pleasured her.

She closed her eyes making Cassian stop. She looked back up to him a question on her face.

“Keep your eyes on Azriel, sweetheart or this stops here. I want him to see what my tongue does to you.” Cassian said making Nesta’s eyes widen. She nodded her understanding, Cassian nodding in approval before continuing with his exploration of her body.

She kept her eyes on Azriel like Cassian had told her too. Her eyes not leaving his, his own hazel brown eyes shinning with hunger and desire. Nesta moaned at the sheer power of it before she felt something skit up her leg like a gentle caress.

Nesta gasped looking at Azriel as his shadow returned to him. Cassian gazed over to him, a wicked smile on his face.

“Using your shadows to gain favor?” Cassian teased. Azriel’s grin grew.

“Just making this as pleasurable as possible.” Azriel returned looking over to Nesta. “Did you want us to continue?”

“Yes.” She stated as Cassian dipped his head back down licking at her entrance pushing his tongue inside causing Nesta to cry out. She needed something to do with her mouth.

Cassian’s nails dig into her thighs letting her know that his own wolf had come out to play, the thought thrilled her to her core. Wanting nothing more than for Cassian to be unleashed.

Her eyes went to Azriel, barely forming the words on her lips.

“Come here.” She commanded him as Cassian hit one of her more sensitive spots making her cry out.

“Say please.” Cassian chased her sliding a finger inside her, moving it in and out so that he wouldn’t stop pleasuring her. She knew that she would not get a break if this continued.

“Please.” Nesta cried out as Cassian smiled up at her.

“That’s my girl. Come here, Az. See how dirty my mate’s mouth can actually be.”

“Oh I intend to.” Azriel promised causing Nesta to whimper in anticipation.

Cassian pulled out his finger replacing it with his tongue causing her to cry out once more. Close, she was so close already. Could feel herself soaking the sheets underneath her.

Azriel made his way towards her, his shadows dancing across her skin, the desk g of them so intense as Cassian’s hands went up to her breast stroking them with his thumbs.

She sobbed at the pleasure, her hands thrusting into Cassian’s silky hair, panting hard.

Azriel tilted her chin, making her look at him instead.

“Eyes on me, Sweetheart.”

Nesta cried out, tears of pleasure prickling her vision as his shadows continued the exploration of her skin feeling like ice on her heated body.

“If only you could see what her face looks like when she’s shattering underneath your mouth, Cass. It’s a beautiful sight.”

Cassian thrusted his tongue deeper, lost in tasting her. Azriel chuckled, his hand going in Nesta’s hair pulling it hard.

Azriel’s lips slammed down to hers, the kiss commanding and powerful as Nesta moaned into the Shadowsingers mouth. If she wasn’t close before.

Azriel pulled away, his cock now gloriously hard in front of her.

“Did you need something to do with your mouth, sweetheart?” Azriel asked as she nodded. “Then open it for me.”

Nesta grasped Azriel’s cock, a small groan escaping his lips as Nesta put the Shadow Singer inside her mouth. Barely able to concentrate with the feel of Cassian’s mouth on her cunt.

She took Azriel deeper moaning around his cock at the feel of Cassian’s mouth. At what it was doing to her. Azriel pushed in further, almost hitting the back of her throat. How was there still so much of him left?

“You’re right, Cass, her mouth does feel amazing.” Azriel grunted out.

“I’ll find out soon enough.” Cassian promised, his breath heavy, making Nesta whimper.

“Did you want his cock in your mouth now, Nesta? I’m sure we can switch off.” Azriel asked. Nesta shook her head wanting him to finish what he was doing with his own mouth.

Azriel chuckled grabbing onto her hair and thrusting up into her mouth making Nesta cry out in pure ecstasy. The pleasure…it was.

Nesta felt herself shatter around Cassian’s mouth, riding his face with abandon, as he mummers something along the lines of “Gods.” As he rode her orgasm with his tongue getting as much of her as he could before giving her a heated, open mouthed kiss down there and pulling away. His mouth still glimmering with her release.

Azriel glanced at Cassian, breath heavy as his hands ripped Nesta’s mouth from his cock, one of his shadows slipping into her folds, going inside her causing her to cry out. She had never felt-

Azriel’s hands went to Cassian’s face, his thumb running across Nesta’s release on his lips.

“Was she good?” He whispered, his lips close to Cassian’s. One of his hands going inside Cassian’s hair as his shadow worked inside of Nesta.

“Yes.” Cassian answered licking his lips.

“In that case I would love a taste.” Azriel stated leaning in and kissing Cassian thrusting his tongue inside Cassian’s mouth making Nesta moan as his shadows slammed into her most sensitive parts.

Azriel pulled away with a smile.

“You’re right. She does taste delectable, I can’t wait to have it straight from the source.” Azriel whispered getting down on his knees, spreading Nesta’s legs for him. Kissing his way up then, making small bites as he went along making Nesta gasp as her eyes went to Cassian, his hand on his cock, gliding it up and down as he watched Nesta and Azriel. Nesta wanted nothing more than to pleasure him. To feel her mate in her mouth.

As if noticing her thoughts, Azriel stopped when he was almost to her center, gazing up at her than Cassian.

“It appears as if we’re not doing this right, Cassian.” Nesta halted at his words. Were…were they going to stop?

“I think you’re right, Az.”

Nesta was about to protest before Cassian cocked his head to the side letting the wolf out of its cage.

“Bring her over here.” Cassian instructed as Azriel stood up grabbing onto Nesta and bringing her over to Cassian.

Azriel stood behind her, his hardened length pressed to her back side, his hands going to her throat, careful not to apply too much pressure as he tilted her head up making her look at Cassian.

Cassian moved closer to her pressing his lips to hers. She moaned into the kiss before he pulled away.

“Take off that Gods damned night gown of hers, Az.”

Azriel’s hands went to the front of Nesta’s gown ripping it off at the torso as the torn gown fell to the floor.

Cassian looked over to Azriel before looking over to Nesta leaning into her ear.

“Are you okay?” He whispered.

She nodded.

“Do you want us to stop?”

She shook her head. She wanted to continue. Cassian nodded as Azriel’s hands went to her throat again before they moved down to the floor. Nesta on her knees beside Cassian and his luxurious cock. Azriel leaned in, his mouth to her ear.

“I think Cassian needs a reward for how good he fucked you, Don’t you agree?” Azriel told her, she nodded. “Then show him how grateful you are.”

Cassian stepped closer to them as Azriel’s shadows slotted across Nesta and Cassian’s skin. Nesta took Cassian’s cock stroking him the way she knew he liked it, before her tongue licked up his shaft, swirling her tongue around his head before she took him into her mouth, taking him deep, hearing Cassian growl out in pleasure knowing he was holding himself back.

She felt Azriel pressed against her back, his lips by her ear, his hand still to her throat.

“Come on, Nes. I think you can take him deeper.” Azriel encouraged grasping onto her hair and pushing her mouth farther onto Cassian making him hit the back of her throat as Nesta gagged on Cassian’s cock.

“See I knew you could do it.” Azriel praised.

Nesta should have been angry at the Shadow Singer, but strangely she didn’t mind it, Cassian glared down at Azriel as Nesta dug her nails into his ass letting him know that she was alright. That she wanted to take as much of him as she could. But Cassian still looked at Azriel with that glint in his eyes.

“Show her you’re sorry.” Cassian commanded him. She could swear she saw the Shadow Singer smile up at him.

“Whatever you say, General.” Azriel said pulling away from Nesta. “Lift your leg up for me Nesta.”

Nesta did as he said pausing in her exploration of Cassian as Azriel nestled himself by Nesta’s thighs, lifting her so she hovered above his mouth.

“Go ahead and fuck his mouth, Nes.” Cassian instructed her as Azriel lowered her to his mouth, his tongue sweeping through her folds as Nesta moved her hips to meet his tongue thrusts.

She cried out looking up at Cassian, his cock still on full display in front of her.

“Fuck my mouth, Cass.” She ordered, as he grasped onto her hair, careful to avoid Azriel and plunged himself deep into her throat showing no mercy.

Nesta felt as hot as a brightly burning star, feeling the heat radiating off her body as she fucked Azriel’s mouth riding it, Letting him weather the storm that was her as Cassian made her take him as deep as she could. His cock slick with her making it easier for her to take him.

Azriel’s shadows crawled up her skin plunging into another part of her. She gasped at the slight pleasure before Azriel looked up at her.

“Just wanted g to make sure you could take two guys at once.” Azriel challenged. Nesta gave him her best smile pulling her mouth from Cassian.

“I’m pretty sure I could take both of you.” She rasped.

Azriel looked up at Cassian smiling,

“I can’t wait for her to prove it,” Azriel stated continuing where he had finished, her cunt feeling sensitive from the multiple orgasms it had already given.

Cassian was back inside her mouth in an instant. She weathered him, both of them until she felt the first splashes of his release down her throat swallowing every drop of him she could. Looking up at him through her lashes as she felt her own release crash through her. Her screams of pleasure tearing through her throat as they both pulled away.

Cassian leaned down scooping her into his arms and taking her back to the bed. His cock already rock hard again as he laid them both down on the bed putting them on their sides as he lifted Nesta’s leg lining his cock up with her entrance pushing deep inside her as she cried out every part of her body alight with desire.

That’s when she felt him, Azriel pressed to her side. His cock close to her ass as he leaned down using her juices to lubricate it before he slid inside, Nesta gasping at how full she felt with both of them Inside her at the same time.

They moved in unison filling her however they could, Azriel’s shadows inside her as Cassian opened the bond tugging on those golden strings of light.

Nesta felt her eyes roll in the back of her head with pleasure as they continued to fill her in tandem.

“Gods she is tight.” Azriel growled, Cassian chuckled.

“Maybe one of these days, I’ll let you feel her cunt around your cock, but for today, it’s all mine.”

Azriel chuckled slamming harder into her ass causing her to gasp.

“No worries. I’m fine right where I’m at.”

Cassian’s lips crashed down to hers, the kiss as hot as any fire, no desire like this could ever compare. Her body shook with pleasure. Both of them soaked with her.

“Come for us ,Nes.” Azriel commanded filling her ass, his cock stretching her out in the sweetest edge of pain. She could tell she wouldn’t be able to walk properly for weeks.

“Let us feel you, Sweetaheart.” Cassian slamming his mouth back down to her thrusting into her as hard as he could.

The pleasure. It was so intense every part of her body screaming for release as she sobbed so hard at the first feel of release making noises that sounded more animal than human as both of the males releases started to splash into her. Cassian’s cum filling her cunt as Azriel filled her ass. Nesta clenching around them both taking as much of both of their releases as her body would allow.

Their breath was labored as Cassian pressed tender kisses to her everywhere, Azriel’s kisses pressing to her throat as they both soothed her maki g sure that she was alright.

Nesta took a deep breath feeling safe in both of their arms, before Azriel jerked up slightly, distracted as he pulled out of Nesta.

“I have to go. Shadow Singer business, but this was really fun.” He stated kissing both Nesta and Cassian goodbye before heading out of the door taking his shadows with him.

“Are you alright?” Cassian asked her, pulling her into his side letting her feel the warmth of his body.

“Yes.” She sighed, content looking up at him, desire still filled him. “But I still want more,” she smiled at him.

He grinned down at her pressing a kiss to her lips as he climbed on top of her lining up to her entrance and sitting himself inside of her.

“In that case, mate. Let’s go for round two.”

#nesta archeron #nessian #nesta #cassian #acosf #a court of silver flames #acosf spoilers #nessian fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #nessian smut #nezriel #cazriel #Nesta x Cassian x Azriel

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

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Out of the House

Series summary: Ever the paranormal enthusiast Remus is excited when he finds an abandoned house creepy enough to have ghosts in it with no chance of being caught trespassing. He quickly finds himself in over his head however when his fantasies come true, fighting to solve a mystery with the only possible outcome being losing someone he comes to love.

Platonic dukexiety focus

This series was created for dukexiety week 2021. I’m posting after but here is the list of prompts!

Chapter 1: I’ll be Here by Day

Chapter Summary: When Remus gets them kicked out of the library, he takes Logan and Janus with him to an old, abandoned house as a new study location. This don’t go to plan as Remus is confronted with something he didn’t think was possible.

Pairings: Platonic Dukexiety (Remus & Virgil), background Lociet (Logan x Janus)

Day 1 Prompt: Myths/Supernatural

Warnings: mild swearing, mild sexual innuendos, injury mention, paranormal events. If there are others please let me know!

WC: 2873

AO3 link

Main masterlist

“Do you mind?” Remus grinned as his platforms were slowly but surely nudged off the chair, Logan's nose scrunched in disgust as ze examined the dirt on zir pencil. “Highly unsanitary.”

“It’ll help your immune system.” Long fingers reached over to flick at the pages of whatever book Logan had had zir nose buried in for the better part of an hour. He snapped them back with a yelp however as his knuckles were rapped hard with the pointy end of the No. 2.

“That's if you eat it Remus, and such sentiments are usually reserved for children to placate parents when they can’t keep their spawn from shoving every little thing into their mouths-”

“Well if you wanted to lick my boots Logan you just had to ask.” Remus waggled tiks eyebrows suggestively, grinning wide as the other turned beat red.

“I AM NOT-”

“Logan, honey, volume. And Remus stop being gross we invited you here to study not air our desperation.” Janus’ quiet drawl diffused the situation immediately as both parties screwed their mouths to the side and looked away. Remus heard the librarian huff and stalk away with furious clicks of his heels, no doubt miffed at the missed chance to kick them out for the third time that week.

“Jannie Jan. J-anus. Jan-ass. Jan-assist me with this b-”

“Afternoon Remus. New piercing already?”

Nodding excitedly, Remus leaned over Logan’s books, ignoring the put upon sigh behind him and staring at the redhead with wide eyes. Janus smirked as he watched the other’s eyebrows jump up and down, the fluorescent bulbs of the library catching the two studs placed right at the end of the left brow that morning.

“Looks nice. I like the green.”

“Remus if you keep doing those yourself you’re going to get an infection. Please, I’ve told you so many times I know the tattoo artist down the street, I can get you discount piercings.”

Remus craned his neck nearly all the way around, a manic grin thrown over tiks shoulder as Logan stared at him in horror. “Awe you like meeeeee.”

Shooting Janus the “it’s your turn look” while being bumped repeatedly in the shoulder by Remus’ swaying hips Logan pressed zir mouth into a thin line as the return eyebrow raise of “you owe me for last time” was shot right back. Rolling zir eyes Logan shoved back with zir shoulder sending Remus right back in the chair.

“You.” Logan hissed. “Are going to get us kicked out again. I quite enjoy this library, so take this and for the love of god stay relatively quiet!”

So saying a silicone sword on a string was pressed into Remus’ hands, who inspected the obnoxiously green object for a moment before shrugging and shoving it into his mouth. “Long and thick, I like it.”

The undignified snort Janus didn’t quite manage to cover followed by a shriek as his shins were kicked from under the table was enough to teleport the librarian over to them. Glaring down his nose at the two properly chastised of the group and the one currently grinning like an idiot he pointed aggressively towards the door in a way that dared them to argue.

“Out.”

“Yes ma’am.” Logan and Janus muttered as they collected their things. Remus jumped up with a salute that received an icy glare stern enough to freeze if Remus had actually been paying attention- as it was tik merely swung his pack up and over tiks shoulder nearly hitting the man in the process. A final self satisfied huff and a slammed door later found all three of them kicking pebbles on the sidewalk, put out and annoyed but certainly not surprised.

“Remus, I care for you a great deal but at the moment I would like to yeet you into the road.” Logan turned to Janus slightly. “Usage?”

Ignoring Remus’ giggling, Janus nodded. “It’s correct.”

“We could go to your flat?” Logan asked hopefully, wilting as Janus shook his head.

“Roommates are having their own study session and between Remus’...” Janus paused and watched as the other tried to snap a bug into his book, nearly snapping his nose as tik tripped in the process. “...Remus and my more distracting noises I don’t think we’d be welcome back just yet.”

“They could just wear headphones.” Logan muttered, clearly annoyed.

“Yes well, not everyone understands vocal stims and I don’t want to get into another argument with them about it. I rather enjoy my flat and if I could continue to live in it that would be lovely.”

“I know a place!” Remus jumped suddenly between them. “I found it last week looking for-”

“Remus we are not studying in a graveyard or a morgue or a house you think is haunted. I understand your love of ghosts but-”

“This one’s really nice I promise!” Remus interrupted, giving Logan puppy eyes that had zir rolling zir eyes yet again. “It’s in that weird in between of broken down enough that no one wants it but not enough that the government or whatever wants to step in yet...so I think technically no one owns it?”

“Is that how that works?” Janus turned to Logan curiously.

Logan opened zir mouth to argue, finger already in the “in fact it isn’t” position before pausing to consider. “I- I’d like to say no but I don’t know enough about property rights in this state to argue.”

“In this state?” Janus’ question was ignored in favor of Logan blocking Remus’ book from slamming into zir nose.

“It’s safe?” Janus asked instead.

“Yeah! Well-” Remus mumbled around tiks chewelry, tugging the book out of Logan’s grip and stuffing it uncaringly into tiks bag. “Just don’t go on the second floor I guess...stairs look a bit not great. But! It doesn’t have a basement so the first floor is safe! And most of the windows are broken so it doesn’t smell or anything.”

“....and we’re taking those as good points and moving on. Logan?”

Pinching the bridge of zir nose and pushing zir blue tinted hair out of zir face, Logan eyed the man currently bouncing up and down in excitement and nearly jostling the papers out of tiks open backpack. Smiling fondly ze shrugged. “If it's quiet I don’t see why-”

“Yes! Come on, I know a shortcut!”

Janus and Logan watched as Remus took off at a sprint, using the momentum to throw his pack over the fence and picking up half the papers that flew out of it before hopping it tikself. Scooping most of his things back up he continued running across the residentials backyards and turning out of sight around the far corner.

Holding his hand out Janus smiled wryly. “I know which house he’s talking about, it isn’t far. Sidewalk or yards?”

“The sidewalk is better- I can’t hold your hand trying to hop a fence.” So saying Logan slipped zir hand into the others’, but not before smugly observing his reddening cheeks.

“Sap.”

“No, a flirt?” Holding in his laughter, Janus tugged Logan along, walking faster than normal in the hopes that the wind would cool his face.

-----

“Ta-da!” Remus twirled in the entryway, flinging his bag to the side of the hall as tik did. Sneezing in the resulting dust he quickly shuffled back further into the house. The space had probably been a living room before the previous owners moved, though as it stood now it seemed even the house had forgotten what it once was. Old, warped floorboards held only water damage as memories, groaning and giving slightly when anyone stepped on them. As it was they protested heavily as Remus uncaringly rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting for the others to actually step inside.

“You’re sure this is safe?” Logan cautioned as ze stepped gingerly around a pile of plaster that had long since crumbled off the wall by the door.

“Oh absolutely! Nothing’s fallen on me yet that wasn't already on the floor when I got here.” Tik paused as tik glanced towards the stairs- rickety, broken things that looked like blowing a fan in their direction would collapse them- and winced. “Just...don’t use the stairs. I put my foot through the first one by accident trying to explore the other day.”

“Of course you did.” Janus sniffed, looking them up and down before he stopped to squint at the top. It looked like they led to a hallway that turned a corner to the rest of the second floor, a small window letting in a meager amount of sunlight through the dirty glass. The hallway and resulting corner was shrouded in half shadow that made shapes dance around the edges and goosebumps race up and down his arms. Only half paying attention to whatever Remus and Logan were currently arguing about, he took a step closer to the staircase, back tensing even if he couldn’t make anything out that could be triggering such a response.

Squinting harder he tilted his head trying to get a better angle from his vantage point at the very bottom of the steps. The shadows seemed to shift every so slightly right at the turn of the wall that would lead into the hallway, making him blink and step back in surprise. Hackles raised in earnest now he frantically searched up and down the stairway and everywhere he could see of the upper landing but there was no more movement in any direction. The top of the steps however was brighter now, as if the dirty panes had only been a trick of dust in his eyes. Now it was simply slightly smeared glass- nevertheless letting sunlight through cheerily and letting it shine halfway down the steps- hardly a trace of shadow to be found in what he could have sworn was a dingy landing only moments before.

“Hey Jannie Jan you good? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“...Remus, you’re sure this house is empty? You never heard anything or saw any- I don’t know empty wrappers or anything?” Stepping fully away from the stairs Janus turned towards Remus and gripped the straps of his backpack tight enough to bruise his fingers.

“No, why? I mean- no one else is here. I’ve spent a few days exploring this place and hanging out, there’s just the first floor which is pretty clean other than well,” he gestured around at the wallpaper, plaster and dust littering the floor, along with the broken glass shoved carefully back underneath the windows. “And the second floor I already said I couldn’t get to and I doubt anyone else could even if they wanted to. I never heard anything other than what I think is a mouse or squirrel or something in the wall over there.”

“That doesn’t completely eradicate the possibility of squatters in the building but considering the state of the place I’d say it’s very unlikely.” Logan nodded at Remus before turning back to peer at Janus curiously. “I would assume that was what you were implying, Janus. Are you alright?”

Janus screwed his mouth to the side, considering just dropping the subject or lying to save face somewhat. Just as he was about to snark out something about watching too many of Remus’ cheesy ghost hunting shows, a wave of dread so solid it left him breathless slammed into him. Ice filled his veins and his legs tensed as every reflex in his body told him in no uncertain terms to run before it was too late.

“I want to leave.”

“What, why?” Remus quickly jogged over to where Janus was reaching for the door handle, Logan hot on his heels.

“I don’t want to get arrested for trespassing! And this place-” He turned around and glanced to the stairs again. “It doesn’t feel right. I’d rather brave my roommates.”

“Are you scared?” Remus asked incredulously.

“No!” Whirling around the other man locked eyes with Logan. “You agree with me right?”

Logan twisted h=zir fingers for a moment, not looking at either of them. “It does feel odd I suppose.”

“Then that’s that then! Stay in your creepy house if you want Remus, we’re leaving.” So saying Janus grabbed up Logan’s hand and bag, practically dragging zir out the door.

Remus stood inside the doorway for a moment before tiks shoulders slumped and tik turned back inside. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy to fix them getting kicked out of the library...again. The house was creepy sure but it had been abandoned for who knows how long and was falling in on itself, what had they expected?

Idly he kicked at a loose nail and sent it skittering across the floor towards the stairs. Tik hadn’t ever felt scared in this house- not even when his weight snapped the first step and he thought he’d be stuck in the house until tiks body rotted through the hole he’d made. A less favorable thought sure but not one tik wasn’t familiar enough with to hold it against the house. Huffing he flopped down against the far wall and drug tiks bag over to tik, fishing around for his phone so he could apologize to Janus and Logan and hope they weren’t too mad at tik...again.

He nearly dropped his phone when something bounced off the back of it, clattering to the floor between tiks feet. He leaned forward to see...a nail? Raising his eyebrow tik looked up to the stairs while flicking the nail towards them, searching for the one he had kicked but seeing nothing other than dust. The one tik flicked bounced off the bottom step and spun for a minute before stopping suddenly just a few inches away. Remus slowly lowered his phone and watched it curiously, the hairs on his arms standing in alarm but refusing to eat tikself actually be scared. It was a nail- an old rusty one at that- and the house was old with its windows smashed through. The air currents were probably playing around with-

There was a slight pain in his outer ear and tik flinched to the side to see what bug had bit him. Instead he saw a nail embedded into the wall, still quivering slightly with the force it had apparently been shot with. Swallowing nervously tik glanced back to the stairs searching frantically for the one he had seen not five seconds ago only to see nothing but dust once again.

“Okay.” He exhaled shakily and stood up, pocketing his phone and grabbing up tiks bag. “Yeah, okay. So- ghost right? Listen, I love being nailed as much as the next person but-”

He was cut off with small, unassuming jingling sounds, almost sounding like hail hitting the outside of a window. The sun was still shining brightly however, despite the rapidly declining temperature inside and he began to look around in earnest to make out what the sound was. Tik had always told himself that if tik ever had an experience like this he’d be sure to catch it in camera- and none of the shaky handed blurry footage shit everyone else tried to pass off thank you very much Logan- but at the moment his phone was forgotten in a white-knuckled grip. He watched as bits of glass slid over the worn floors with enough force to gouge the wood, jingling merrily on their way to a rapidly darkening staircase with shadows dripping like black mold from the second floor above.

Tik could do nothing but stand frozen even as every instinct and shred of common sense he had ever had screamed at tik to turn and run while he still could. The glass whirled around a shape in the middle of the stairs, a ball of shadow descending step by step that seemed to stare through him though tik couldn’t see any indication the thing had eyes. His vision tunneled and distantly he was aware tiks breathing had picked up- mildly concerning considering the microscopic pieces of glass ripping through the air- everything narrowing down to this one moment. This one entity that without a shred of doubt in Remus’ mind he knew wanted him dead.

“G̸̮̗̘͔͔̖̕E̴̛͚̣͖͇̗͙̺̭̔̈́̂̀̈́̔̕͠͝͝T̵̨̜̹̲̬̦͕͇͒̓͒̀͑ ̵͕͖̳̱͎͕̝̥̐̉͗̃Ǒ̵̡͎̥̣̳̙̜̜͓̠̲͍̿̐͐̎́̓̽̊͘͘͜͝͠Ṷ̶̢̟̠͙̯̱̝̠̹̪͚̠̽̇̄́͌̔̀̌͠͝T̸͎͐̆̐!̵͉́̅̋̑͑̈̀̈́̄!̷̰̈́̀̑̾͌̊”

The force of the distorted voice rattled the walls and sent plaster raining down onto Remus, who finally felt his legs twitch just as tik felt the first pinpricks of glass against his face. Wasting not a second more he turned on tiks heel and tripped tiks way through the entry hall and out the door, hearing it slam shut behind him as he hopped the fence and took off down the road faster than tik had ever run in his life. Shocked gasps rushed past his lips as tik just kept pumping his legs and let tikself be led on autopilot all the way to his apartment, bursting through the door and slamming it behind him. Heavy breaths filled the short hall and he slumped to the floor, mildly surprised when his phone thunked to the floor in front of tik.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, tiks head thumping heavily into the door behind him.

“Holy fucking shit.”

If you liked this, please reblog. Reblogs help creators share their work.

#false writes #dukexiety #lociet #remus sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #ghost au #platonic dukexiety #tw swearing #tw minor injury #tw injury #tw paranormal #out of the house #ooth

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stardancerluv · 3 years

Text

Unlikely Delights

Part 3b

Summary: You wake up to Dan having a nightmare. Eventually, you can stop yourself from kissing him, as he sleeps.

Warning: Brief mention of blood, soft angst, and trying to show what happens when Dan has a sexy dream of you, I attempted to show you what happens when his shinning goes to you while be has sexy dream, future implied smut.

“No... Mom! Run!!!

You jostled awake to the pained voice of Dan. Looking over at him, his anguish was awash on his face.

“Dan, wake up. Dan.” You gently nudged him.

“Mom!” He practically moaned.

It broke your heart to see and even more to hear him like this. Your eyes widened when you saw a trickle of blood from his nose.

Getting up and pulling the blankets aside despite shivering almost immediately, you went over to the door you hoped led to his bathroom. Relief filled you when you discovered that it was. Spotting a washcloth, you grabbed it and turned on the warm water. Soon you wetted it, wrung out the excess water in the cloth and then went back to Dan.

“Dan? Wake up.” He clawed at the sheets. Still there’s blood, you didn’t want it to get worse or to get on his shirt.

That’s when you noticed he had changed into some pajamas while you slept. Realizing that, you looked down and smiled for a moment, completely distracted by that he had put one of his pajama flannel pants on you.

You softened and looked at him, startled by his bright red blood. Your half sleepy mind reminded you that had been why you got up. You could be so silly.

Taking a breath you gently cleaned that wonderful spot above his mouth. In your mind, you remembered the kisses. Your stomach tightened, when your body remembered his fingers. Your hand that held the washcloth shook as you wiped away the blood. You relaxed seeing he had calmed. Running your fingers through your hair you relaxed. All clean, you mused.

You were able to rinse the blood from his washcloth. Placing the washcloth on the counter, you inspected his pajama pants. They were cute and plain. Very comfy. You stretched and yawned, reaching towards the ceiling and sighing contently.

As you walked back over to him, you stopped and glanced at him. Now he was incredibly peaceful. Your lips twitched into a grin. But the image that came over you, stole your breath as you stood there. You staggered to the bed. You crawled under the sheets and grabbed his heavy arm. Breathless you curled up to his side.

Your heart was racing. In your mind, you remembered how Dan had looked the day you bumped into him. He had this wonderful beard, his hair had been wild and ruffled. In your mind you imagined him grabbing and just kissing you. Somehow, in typical dream fashion he had walked you up against a large sturdy oak. The kiss was passionate and it somehow felt naughty since you were against a tree. You pressed against your heart, with each beat you wanted him more.

It all pulled a sound from you, that only he had managed to pull from you earlier. But earlier it had been him and his fingers. Right now all it was, was you imagining a naughty kiss.

Not having realized that you had closed your eyes, you opened them. Dan was still fast asleep though his lips were parted ever so slightly with his breathing almost as shallow as yours.

You moved, shifted and leaned over just so. You were not able to resist the urge from the images in your head. You licked your lips and inhaling you kissed him. His lips took a moment, but they responded. You saw that his eyes were still closed and yet, he kissed you. The kiss between you deepened.

A soft sound came from you when suddenly, you found yourself under him. One of his arms, had managed to slip under you and held you tighter against him.

It was even better than this vision in your mind or even half of the fantasies you had of him over these last few months. You allowed your fingers to nestle into his hair. You gave in and arched into the kiss. Once again it had such a pull on you that you moaned. You never knew any of this could be like this.

Losing yourself more into it with your eyes closed, you let one of your hands drift under his t-shirt.

It was just then that the kiss suddenly stopped.

A pained sound came from Dan as he began to move away from you. “Y/N, honey I am so sorry.” His voice was thick with sleep. He pulled back from holding you and withdrew to his side of the bed.

You instantly missed the weight of him, his warmth. You went over to him and cuddled close. You were grateful, you didn’t think you could take the rejection even if it was only over embarrassment for kissing or holding you in his sleep.

******

Oh, he wanted you so much. He could taste it. He had never been this aroused in his life. He needed to hold you, kiss you. Walking side by side by the park he couldn’t take it. He glanced around, he felt around. No one would know. Well, except you and he knew how you felt. Your racing heart matched his.

“Come here, honey.” He pulled you with him, together you were against that very grand oak tree.

The sound you made as he pushed you gently against it was almost too much. So he kissed you. He’d have to wisk you away to his apartment, if he heard more sounds from you. They made him want more as knots looped and became tighter in his stomach.

Your soft hand, cool from the autumn breeze slid under his sweater.

It was as if the blanket of sleep was torn off of him. His lips were against you, he was on top of you. Startled as dread filled him and he pulled back. What mustn’t you think of him, being like this.

“Y/N,” He swallowed, trying to gather himself. “Honey I am so sorry.”

Laying back, he realized his dream, well more like fantasy had taken over him. He had moved his body. Startled, he realized what it had done to him. He tried more to get a grip on himself.

You came over to him. Blinking, he could not resist you. He was already missing how you had felt.

“I am so sorry.” He began.

“Don’t be.” You whispered. “I’ve wanted you and me like this.”

His brow furrowed, then smoothed. He wrapped an around your waist as you had curled up. His other hand held your upper arm. His excitement from the dream pounded deeply in him. “You have?”

“Yes.”

@blondekel77 @blackberries45 @thebeckyjolene @sithonis @brookisbi @shantellorraine

#femi!reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor imagine #ewan mcgregor fluff #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #dan torrance #dan torarance imagine #dan torrance x yn #dan torrance x reader #dan torrance x you #dr sleep #dr sleep fluff #dr sleep imagine #dr sleep x you #dr sleep x y/n #dr sleep x reader #unlikely delights

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closer-stars · 3 years

Text

Heart of Depth (2)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff, a little tension. Genshin Inspired AU Word Count: ~12k Requested: Sort of yeah Content: Yeosang x MC development. More world building. Food stuff. A little bit of crime stuff, some history, some art info dump, some typical genshin shenanigans Note: this was done way before, I’m already 90% done with part 3 but I kinda got bored while focusing on IRL things that i decided to post this. Enjoy folks. Network: @ateezlovenet Tag list: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult @harubirus

Part 1

It’s been a few weeks since Wooyoung finally met Yeosang. While Wooyoung was mostly impressed with his background, there were a lot of mixed feelings from your end. For starters, he doesn’t stop talking about Yeosang and his job to you.

“Listen, he’s loaded.” Wooyoung tells you back in your apartment. It’s not that you didn’t believe him, in fact you did. It’s just the way Wooyoung is processing the entire thing made it seem unrealistic. Since Wooyoung found out he works at one of the most popular art museums in the region, he’s been pestering you about it nonstop.

“Wooyoung, I’m not saying that I don’t believe you but really, with the clothes he wears and how he carries himself, it’s not unbelievable that he’d be rich…” You say as you make yourself a cup of instant coffee. To most, they’d be surprised with how you choose to make instant coffee when you know how to make other types of coffee with ease. It’s just more convenient and less work for your head. It won’t give you the same caffeine boost as the coffee you make in your work but it’ll do for now.

“And you didn’t tell me this because…?” He trails off, dumbfounded at how you were so nonchalant about this. Well, maybe nonchalant isn’t the right word but you were a little too unaffected about this. He has a feeling that there’s more to this man, he just can’t place what it is exactly. Wooyoung does find the guy trustworthy, but there’s still something beneath the surface and that’s what bothers him.

You raise your shoulders at his question. “I just.. Didn’t see any point in telling you? Like, Wooyoung let’s be real,” you say as you write down how much you’ve made today. “What’s him being rich got to do with us? He’s a good person yeah but at least his money keeps my shop afloat with his daily purchases. If he wants me to make bulk orders then I’ll gladly consider it.”

He had to give that to you, your business was doing great too, judging by the money on the table. But he can’t help it, there’s something about Yeosang that tells him he’s not as regular as he makes himself out to be. There’s only so much that research and studying can tell you but to be able to talk about history as if he’s been there to experience it firsthand? Sounds fishy. He drops the topic though, seeing how you’re starting to struggle with the money. “So slow.” Wooyoung teases as he gets the cash box from you, as he starts to flip through the bills.

You roll your eyes at his teasing, kicking his shin under the table. “Even if I was slow, you enjoy my food and drinks so either way, we’re even.” You shoot back. You count the stacks he makes on the table and do the basic math that your brain can comprehend. Despite how infuriating he can get, you have to admit he’s really someone you can depend on.

Something in Wooyoung’s head clicks when he realizes that this was your closing routine every night. “You’re closing up early today?.” He asks, looking up at you from the stacks of coins. “Yeah uh,” You stammer out. “I’m uh, meeting up with someone..” You mumble. Even to you, it feels unreal that you’re catching feelings for someone. Someone who honestly just feels way too out of your league. Yet, here he is, sharing the same interest towards you and he’s about to see you in two hours time.

The mention of the date makes Wooyoung’s eyebrow quirk upwards, a lopsided smile on his features growing. “Oh, with Yeosang?” He asks, crossing his arms across his chest. If he could take a photo of you sulking at him, he would for future blackmail purposes-- he’d also send it to Yeosang.

The mention of the man that has been making your heart race a little more than it should makes you hit his calf with the tip of your shoe. He doesn’t yelp so you coat the tips of your fingers with ice and tap the back of his neck, giving you the reaction you wanted. “Yes, it’s with him and please…” you already know what he was about to say, so you beat him to it. “I doubt it would blossom into something more..” Even to you, you don’t sound that convincing. You hope for something more but you know better.

At how flustered you look, he can’t help but chuckle lightly. It’s nice to see you show interest in someone in that light. Even if he’s still a little hesitant about Yeosang’s energy, he wants to trust your judgement. If anything happens, you know how to defend yourself. “I won’t push. You know what I’ll say anyways.” Once everything’s been accounted for, the two of you close up the shop for the night then head home.

The entire walk home, you let Wooyoung recount the conversation he had with Yeosang when they met. You wondered too how Yeosang and San found your best friend. The two of you were opposites but somehow it made sense. At one point, you kind of zone out of his stories, thinking of what to wear for tonight.

Wooyoung doesn’t really mind you zoning out. The two of you appreciate the alone time, you more than him sometimes. In a sense, it also helps Wooyoung to make sense of his thoughts when he thinks out loud.

The two of you arrive at your apartment and already you make a beeline to your room. You got roughly an hour to prepare now.

“Just wear something comfortable.” Yeosang reassures.

“Yeosang, comfortable can mean sweats or just jeans.” You point out, while you also had slacks, those were usually set aside for more formal stuff.

“Fine, not sweats.” He laughs softly only to stop at the look of mild panic in your face. “I promise, it’s nothing expensive.”

You mutter as you change out of your work clothes and into something more appropriate. You wiggle around your room, trying to find something appropriate and it’s a little unfortunate that you room has become a little messy from all the clothes you’ve been trying on. It took a little while to look presentable but you think you did well once you give yourself a once over on the mirror.

Wooyoung already barged into your room, already nagging you for taking so long. “You got less than an hour to get to your--- oh my god your room.” He says, his features dropping into one of horror as he takes in how your room looks.

“I’ll clean it up when I get back.” You beat him to it as you grabbed your bag. “What do you think?” You ask, shifting his attention from your room to you. His eyes scan your look closely then eyes your accessories. Without even saying anything else, he goes through the mess and picks up another bag.

“This goes better with your outfit.”

“Isn’t it a bit too big?”

“Who are you going on a date with tonight?”

“It’s not a date--”

“Who?”

You sigh. “Yeosang, so?”

“Use it. I’m telling you, that guy has a lot of money on him. You might bring home more things than expected.” He points out. “Also, make sure you wear your boots.” It made sense that Wooyoung would have more fashion sense than you. It just did.

“I’m not bringing him home!” You take the bag regardless and put your belongings in it.

He snorts at how you understood his words. “Not like that! I do trust you’d do it responsibly! But, that’s not my point. Just have fun okay?” He walks you towards the door. “If anything happens, call me.”

At his shift from insufferable to endearing, you decide to spoil him with a peck to his cheek. “I know. I brought a spare key also in case you get too tired from staying up.”

He scoffs at your words. “Go, have fun.”

---------

It was short sighted of you to forget to bring a jacket. The area Yeosang told you to meet him at was rather chilly especially at night. As you wait for him, you look around, the shops that lined up across you looked expensive. Did you bring enough money? Well you had a credit card but you only used it for emergencies. You doubt you could even buy one item from any of these shops. Maybe one day.

[ Yeosang to You ] Are you there?

[ You to Yeosang ] Yes! Are you here already? curious_ryan

You don’t know why you added an emoji to your message but you did. Once sent, you look around for the familiar black haired male.

[ Yeosang to You ] 2 minutes.

You lean against the wall, eyes still roaming around for the tall man. Truthfully, you wondered where he could be and what he was wearing since this was his idea after all. It’s up to what he wears that could decide if you wore too much or too little. You spot the raven-haired man from a few feet away; in a striped pull over and slacks as well. Though it looked just as casual as he said it would, his shoes seemed to make his outfit look more put together. You hope you looked okay. Once he gets a little closer, you wave your hand a bit to get his attention and it does.

“There you are.” He says softly, tipping his head politely to you. You take a few steps forward, greeting him warmly. It felt a little weird to meet him outside work but that’s the reason why the two of you are here.

“How was work?” You ask him, just like how you would back in your shop.

He gestures for you to walk with him, wherever it will be. “Same as per usual; scheduling field trips for high school students, collections from other countries and collectors coming in, restoring a few pieces and the like.” He returns with what you could assume was an exasperated sigh.

“It sounds like it was more than just the usual.” You point out as you look at the stores. “Where are we going exactly?”

“It’s the usual for me I suppose, maybe except for the field trips. Other than that, it’s routine for me.” You remember how he would talk about art restoration along with art collections coming in from foreign partners. It wasn’t an easy task for sure, maybe that’s why he didn’t mind staying for hours in the shop. “As for your question, there’s a small night market outside this mall. Nothing too flashy, just a lot of unique things that you might like as well.” You genuinely didn’t take him to be someone who would be into markets, based on his outfit that he feels your surprised gaze on him. “Is something wrong?” He asks. You shake your head at his concern.

“I just didn’t take you to be the type to like markets.” Well, for one, you know he’s rich and he’s wearing clothes that you can only assume are made to order. Two, even if you don’t really listen to Wooyoung’s insistent ‘He’s Rich and here’s Why’ tirades, you picked up a thing or two from it.

He takes no insult from your words and actually laughs behind a loose fist. “I’ve received those words a lot in the past. To be honest, it’s thanks to San and his lover that I’m more open to things now.” Back then, he was still in the dark about what the people like, intellectualizing everything to the point of disconnect. It took them having to explain things to him over and over until he understood things. “Though, old habits do die hard.” He continues, referring to his clothes. “But I have learned a lot.”

There’s something in his words that tells you there’s more. Your attention shifts to his clothes as he gestures to his pullover. You catch a glimpse of the brand name and in doing so, your heart drops. You know that name. An outfit there can cover two months worth of rent for your shop. Maybe even the bills.

That’s how the rest of the night goes: Yeosang showing you around the market, showing you various treats to the senses. There were various stalls that you fell for, buying a few of their products but you stopped yourself from over indulging in the purchases-- some merely out of impulse, some for the mere fact it just looked pretty. “Why don’t you buy it?” Yeosang asks as he catches you eyeing a small bottle of perfume.

“Hm?” You aren’t startled by his strange ability to slip in and out of your sight every so often now. This market has such a vast amount of products, that one would easily lose sight of their companions if they didn’t pay attention. Thankfully, he was tall enough for you to find him when needed. “Oh, well, I still have a bottle I use back at home. I don’t think I need another one just yet.” You shift your gaze to him, and you see he has bought quite a number of items. “Do you want to eat dinner already?”

“I was about to ask you. It is rather late.” He notes with a glance at his watch.

“Let’s go? I’m kind of hungry now as well.”

“Any preference?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold to which you don’t turn down.

“As long as it isn’t anything expensive.”

--------

Now why did this restaurant look expensive?

You were seated a little further inside the establishment. The seats were comfortable, privacy was assured and the music playing overhead wasn't Today’s Top 40. You were certain it was jazz. “I thought I said anything that isn’t expensive..” You say, unknowingly pouting at the man across you.

“Consider this as thanks.” He says simply, not even looking up from the menu. The in-house steak sounds lovely, especially at this time.

You look up from the menu, confused at his words. “For what?” You don’t remember what you did to result in such a lavish meal-- you don’t even remember what you ate for breakfast today. A small part of you wishes Wooyoung could be here too, he would’ve loved to try out the dishes here.

“Putting trust in me to be considered a good friend of yours.” Yeosang says, it’s only then that he looks up from his menu. “Have you decided on what to eat?” He shifts the conversation to you upon noticing the confusion still etched on your face.

“Uh, well. I’m not sure what I should order” Also known as, everything’s expensive but also they sound good. You were bouncing between the pasta, beef and the fish, unsure of which one would be better for you.

“Anything that you were eyeing?” He presses. Odd enough, he can tell when you’re holding your tongue now. While he doesn’t force you to say what’s really in your mind at times, you’re human, your body has limits as well. An empty stomach carries repercussions that would probably have Wooyoung on his head.

At his question, you tell him your options. He asks about your diet preferences and your appetite for the night until he finds a good dish for you for tonight. Once all that is over, the two of you are left alone once again. “So, my dear, what did you get in the market?” He asks you, leaning a little forward, hoping for a bit of a peek into what fancied your interests.

You look at the small bags that came with your purchases, wondering which one first to show him. “Oh I just got those small perfume bottles,” you start, pulling the box out of the bag. “It’s not much but it was such a lovely scent.” You start to gush over the purchase. It took you some time to decide on purchasing it, as it was your last purchase for the night.

He picks up the box, looking at the details of the perfume, noting all the things about it. Truthfully, he didn’t think you were into this but he’s up for surprises from you. Also, San’s into this brand as well, he didn’t think they made perfume bottles in such small sizes. He hands back the perfume to you, a pleasant hum leaving his curved lips. There’s always something for him to learn.

“What about you?” You ask him as you keep your purchase away. “What did you buy?”

Yeosang looks at the small bag he had by his side. He lets you bring it out of the bag. You peek inside first, confused to see a few envelopes of varying sizes. “What are these? Are you sure I can open these?” You ask, picking a small envelope, the length just roughly around the same as your hand. When you see him nod, you carefully pull up the flap. Being greeted by a strip of colored paper behind a cream colored paper confused you, so you carefully pull it out of its confines only to gasp at the quality.

It’s a watercolor painting. It looks like a flower, something you’ve never seen before. The color was soft against the cream paper yet it was so lively, as if you could tell how the petals could feel under your fingertips. He sees the shock on your face, smiling a little at the sight of how wide your eyes get. “They’re all paintings, you can look through whatever fancies your curiosity.” His words make you feel like a deer in the headlights.

“Where did you get these? I didn’t see an artist in the market…” You mumble in thought. You’d like to get one for your shop too. “What flower is this?” You ask Yeosang, holding up the painting you initially chose. Finding entertainment in watching how you look at art results in his eyes taking a while to adjust to the art in front of him.

“Ah this, it’s called a Névé Jewel. It’s rare to find them now but the artist, a good friend of mine in the market knows of the flower and managed to create this painting. No one else seemed to want it so I got it for myself along with a few other works.” He explains. “If you wish to have work made by him, I can easily arrange that should he leave the market after we’re done with dinner.” As he was about to continue his explanation, the food started to arrive. As you return his purchases, you check the time, it didn’t take as long as you would’ve thought. The flash of warm light from your phone catches his attention. Even at an angle, he can kind of depict what the photo is. “Apologies for the question but is that your family?”

After thanking the staff for serving your meals, you let him see your wallpaper, though you cover the image of a child you from his view. “Yeah, it’s an old photo of my parents, and I.”

“How are they now?” He asks, studying the photo like he would with artwork. The sunlight casting shadows over your mother’s hat, your father squinting through the glare, probably done at high noon. The wall definitely was a product of its time, bricks but covered over with a huge mural. He’s unsure if this was shot here or in another country, regardless, it’s evident it came from a much simpler time.

“Well…” There’s something in your voice that makes Yeosang quiet. The wistful tone is something he knows too well and not something he wants to bring at the first dinner with you. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked such a question.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we can change the subject.” He immediately adds after the gap. He gestures at your meal, not wanting it to go cold.

You shake your head at his concern. “It’s okay, it’s been roughly a decade now.” You explain as you pick up your utensils. “They’ve passed on now, it’s why I live with Wooyoung.” After your family’s passing, Wooyoung’s family took you in as one of theirs. It’s why you and Wooyoung can pass off as siblings now.

As he takes makes sure he gets a spoonful of the pasta, he smiles a little at your words. “If you didn’t tell me that the two of you weren’t related, I would’ve thought otherwise.” Yeosang’s voice takes on a teasing tone, a subtle attempt to bring back a smile of joy on your features.

You make a face, carrying no malice but rather fake annoyance. “Oh dear, that means he’s rubbed off on me.” You carefully cool off your meal before tasting it. It really was a good idea to bring a few extra in your wallet. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

“Well,” He takes a moment or two to eat before continuing. “I suppose, just like you, they’ve passed on when I was younger. It’s been just San and I since then.” People he considered to be his family have passed on, or have retired from the outside world. Regardless, it has left him in a rather lonely state at times. While there are memories he is fond of, who else is there to share these memories?

The two of you share stories, at least the happier ones, about each other’s families. How it was your dad who instilled in you an affinity for art, your mom teaching you history a little more entertaining than your teachers did. Yeosang shares his stories as well, his brother being a reason for his inquisitive nature that eventually grew into his work. He also talks of how his older teacher taught him the tricks and trades of business. Despite living well off, it was really his siblings who had more or less raised him as his parents were often or rather always, working. Eventually the business of art rested on his shoulders, as he was the only one who had an interest in it. You wondered if he was aware of how much money the business gave him before he signed into this. Come to think of it, there’s only two families that have a hold on the art business. Surely he’s from one of them?

Come to think of it, you still don’t know his last name.

“Are you alright? Is the food okay?” He asks you after the stories have ended. That’s when you realized that you had spaced out in your thoughts in the middle of the meal. “Huh? Oh! Yes, i’m fine. Sorry I was thinking...” You continue to eat what’s left of your meal. “Because you said you took over the art business in the museum right? There’s only two families I can think of that has a hold on the art business industry here: Kang and Song.”

He chuckles lightheartedly, a little pleased to know that even until now his family is this impactful. “Ah, the Song. They’re a lovely bunch, the next in line is rather clumsy outside of formalities, it’s rather cute to see.” His comment makes you stare at him in disbelief. That leaves the option left is Kang. Kang Yeosang.

You’re eating with The Kang Yeosang.

The Kang family has been a pioneer in art restoration especially in works prior to the 1400s. Their own art collection were always pieces hard to find anywhere else-- either due to human’s hubris or due to nature, the way they’re able to keep them in pristine condition as much as possible. You don’t know how they’re able to find some of the artifacts, or how they have the rarest pieces but it’s one of the reasons why they’ve amassed such wealth. Curating in a popular museum, restoring old pieces, tours from not only students but also from diplomats, scholars while being funded to keep security at its peak by the government. It makes sense. It’s been a dream of yours to work in the National Museum and here you are, eating dinner with the owner of what could be more than 60% of the collection in the museum.

He watches the gears in your head click and the realization set in your eyes. He says nothing but flash a bright smile once he knows you know the answer. “I hope this doesn’t complicate our friendship.” He admits earnestly.

You reassure him, with much fervor that it doesn’t. It just makes you respect him a lot more. It’s not easy to keep a bit of a low profile and privacy yet he’s able to do so. Shit, Wooyoung’s right then, a mental note to make up for your lack of reaction and doubt was stored away. So the rest of the meal goes by with you asking Yeosang how it is to handle a museum, knowing how things have been lately.

He sighs a little, the recent rise in art theft has been the bane of his existence since day 1. The amount of artworks he had to keep from sticky fingers, the security of those works is where a good portion of his money goes. He fears the day more works end up in the wrong hands. “We do what we can. It’s not easy but we’ve upped the security in and out of the premises.” He reassures you. There’s comfort in meeting someone who loves art just as much as he and the staff outside of work. “Maybe in the near future, I can give you a private tour.” He casually passes his credit card to a staff member, as both of you are now finished with the meal.

If he was asking you on a date, it’s already a yes in your book.

“I’d like that.” You admit, unable to hide the excited grin on your lips. “Though, as thanks for the meal. If you want dessert, can I pay for it this time?” He didn’t give you enough time to react to the fact he had just paid for your meal. Might as well make up for it, somehow.

On the way to a dessert spot, the two of you decide to stop by the market in hopes of seeing his friend. “Oh hey!” Yeosang’s friend greets him upon realizing who’s right in front of him as he puts away some of his earnings from a recent sale.

“Hey Seonghwa, so my friend here discovered your works and wanted to see them so I brought them here.” The man next to you explains. You see some of his works on display, all of them were in various sizes, some bigger than the pieces Yeosang had bought. Yeosang catches the curious gaze of his friend on you then at him to which Yeosang shakes his head, not wanting to keep anyone's hopes up.

“They’re so pretty…” You say softly as you gaze at the larger pieces in awe. Seonghwa has created watercolor pieces of scenery, places you have yet to see, some look dreamlike. The smaller pieces are of various plant life, one of them looks similar to the flower piece you peeked at from Yeosang’s purchases earlier. “How much are the small works?”

Seonghwa looks at the general direction of your gaze. “The flowers are fifty thousand while the terrain’s at sixty thousand.” You weren’t so surprised at the prices but you had to pick one or the other.

Your lips press into a thin line in thought. “What do you think, Yeosang?” You ask. “I’m thinking of hanging one of them up in my shop.” Truthfully, the flowers would look good considering the plants you’ve cared for in your shop. The terrain on the other hand would stand out in all the good ways.

“Perhaps the floral one would suffice. It suits the ambiance of your shop as well.” Yeosang notes. You trust his judgement with this-- he handles a museum after all, and you fish out your wallet.

“That’s a lovely bracelet you got there.” Seonghwa gasps, awed by the beauty. He knows what that is, eyes flitting to the archon a little too quickly before shifting again to you. His words bring you flattery that you accept.

“It’s from my mom.” You simply explain, ears a little pink from the sudden attention on you. The blond male doesn’t miss your bashful ears that he chuckles lightly behind his hand and drops the topic.

“Your mother has quite an eye.” He simply says as he hands you your change. “Thank you for buying a work from me.” With that said, the two of you make your way to an ice cream parlor.

You let Yeosang look at the various flavors on display. “Before anything, I’m paying.” You remind him. It’s how determined you are to repay his kindness that produces a light laugh from him.

“Very well.” He returns his attention to the display, pondering on his options for the moment. “I’ll get the injeolmi and red bean in a cup. Two scoops please?” He asks. He stays by your side as you order, curious by the other flavors. If he remembers right, San loves the mint chocolate with the popping candy.

As you wait for your turn, your phone buzzes with a message.

[ Wooyoung to You ] How are you?

You smile at his worry.

[ You to Wooyoung ] Cheeky_ryan.emoji

[ You to Wooyoung ] One of these days, you need to go here with me. It’s so pretty here.

[ You to Wooyoung ] Also buying ice cream right now hehe.

You pay for your orders, and let Yeosang choose a spot to sit for the next hour or so. You put your purchases right next to you as your lips widen into a giddy smile. It’s been a while since you last had ice cream too.

“Oh yeah. Now that we’ve settled in a good spot in this shop.” He hands you the same envelope that had the terrain you were in turmoil over earlier. “Consider it a gift.” He reasons when he sees how you were about to turn down such an offer. A smile of triumph brightens his entire face when he sees you give in to his request. You look cute sulking at him when you know you can’t turn down his offers. “The thing Seonghwa noticed, he’s got a good eye for jewelry.” It took eons for him to have such specialized sight but it’s been an asset since he could remember. “It’s something your mother gave you, yes?”

You show him the bracelet from your seat. “It’s an ancestral piece,” You admit. It’s the most watered down way you can explain without showing too much of yourself to someone. Since their death, you’ve become a lot more private about your family life when it pertains to them, but when it comes to your family life with Wooyoung you can easily talk about it. Here’s the kicker though, why were you so willing to share things with him?

Honestly, you didn’t know the whole name of the bracelet. You only vaguely remember it being called Aurora so that stuck with you until now. At night, the pearl shines brighter, when you use your cryo vision for whatever reason, the light inside the pearl pulsates. In a well lit room like where you are, it looks like an average pearl. It was one of the things your mother told you to hold dear before seeing them for the last time.

The male senses your inability to remember clearly along with your discomfort. A part of him reprimands himself for letting his desire to know get the better of him. You are your own person. He has to remind himself of this over and over. “You don’t have to tell me everything, I do respect your privacy.” He says softly.

“Yeosang?” You ask. The tone makes him stiffen, worried for having hurt you in such a short span of time.

“Yes?”

You prod at your ice cream for a moment, trying to find the words. “I mean, considering how historical the museum is. Has there been times where artworks have been stolen?” It was a valid question, most museums you know through the years have attempted thievery one way or another. Some works never find their way back home; you wondered if the same has happened to his museum.

“Oh of course.” There’s a bit of relief in hearing you shift the conversation. A little bit of dread since this is a difficult thing to deal with. “Before I became the head, a group did an art heist. Around ten works were stolen, until now we don’t know where they are.”

This somehow surprises you. You know how tight the security is in that museum even without knowing Yeosang’s hand in the museum, the security there was rather strict too. “What?”

“Yes, a number of works that are considered rarities were stolen. Not a lot of people know that these artists did such works either.” Under the jurisdiction of his predecessor, they kept the frames of the missing works up, hoping that one day they’ll get them back. Yeosang knows otherwise at this point. “Truthfully speaking, I have my doubts they’ll return in one piece if at all.” Yeosang continues. “It’s been decades, if I remember right, since those works were stolen.” Artworks gone for decades usually end up in the same place one way or another. If they’re lucky, they know where it is. The only problem is revealing how they know and why they know, usually.

As he tells you about the works, you search them up on your phone. These are works centuries before you were born only to be stolen decades before your birth. Despite the time difference, the impact it left on the art world seems to be immense. It explains the growing levels of security in museums around the world, among many other things.

“How do you know of these artworks? I haven’t heard of them.”

“With the people I work with, I have to know information like this.” Well that makes sense but why does he talk of these works as if he’s seen them?

“But, it’s been...what.. Decades? Since it’s been seen, how is your memory that clear?” The way he describes it as you look at the painting on your phone, you pick up on details you would have missed but there’s something in his words that tells you something more.

He stares at you, sweat already forming at the back of his neck as he tries to come up with a logical excuse. “I have the records, also the internet gives us the nearest accurate rendering of the paintings.” He explains, gesturing to your phone screen that displays one of the mentioned works.

He’s got a point and you drop the topic. After a few more minutes of looking at the painting, you turn away from your phone, shifting your attention to your ice cream and to him.

“The Ninth Wave by Ivan Aivazovksy”

“Judith Beheading Holofornes by Artemisia.. I don’t know how to pronounce her last name..” It was a little embarrassing that you didn’t know how to pronounce these names but you couldn’t really help but love the work.

That was something he didn’t expect. He looks up the work you mentioned, along with the artist’s name, wanting to avoid possible confusion. “Ah, this work?” He asks, as he shows you his phone. At the sight of the work, you nod shyly but the spark in your eyes overpowers the bashful nature on your cheeks. He gives it a good look for a moment or two, studying what he can from such a small screen. The blood in the work’s dynamic, actively spurting out from the male’s neck while the women wrestle to keep him down to finish the act. The women don’t look disgusted by the action at all, rather they look determined. “Why so?” It’s uncommon but not rare, for people to like works that were rather morbid. He just didn’t take you to be someone to appreciate works like this.

You gnaw on your spoon for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. Truthfully, you find it a little embarrassing to admit that this is your favorite work, not things like The Milkmaid by Vermeer or something more calming. “Uh, well,” you start off. “It’s not everyday really, that I see works made by women. Especially with the subject being someone who’s determined even in doing something morbid.” The reason behind the painting was just as violent, but could’ve been cathartic to the artist herself. To you, you want to do the same to those who have hurt you and your family. But hey, who would talk about that the first time they hang out right? “What about you?” You shift the topic almost immediately. “Why The Ninth Wave?”

Yeosang takes this moment to think for a moment or two, wondering what he should say. “Well,” he starts before scooping a small mouthful of the ice cream. “Seeing the ocean be so dynamic isn’t an everyday thing.” He lets the ice cream melt in his mouth for a moment before continuing. “People tend to forget that the ocean while giving, can take. We’re at its mercy, whether we like it or not. It’s a good reminder I suppose, that we’re not as invincible as we think we are.”

You look closer at the artwork. It’s a handful of men, clinging onto what looks like planks of wood as they face a wave that looks tamed. You wonder why it’s called the Ninth Wave, seeing that the painting was washed with soft pinks, warm bright yellows and various shades of blues and greens. It looks much more peaceful than the description Yeosang gave.

“A little ironic isn’t it?” He muses. A sheen of blue glowing softly in his eyes as he watches you study the painting with confusion. “You see, it’s an old sailing expression that means that another wave is coming. After the previous eight that were already big, the ninth one coming, much bigger than the last eight. The worst has yet to come but storm through it and then there will be peace.” He gestures to the faint wave just by the line of horizon. Indeed there’s still one more but the skies promise peace should they get through it.

You jolt in your chair when you see what time it is. You’re hoping Wooyoung’s already asleep back in the apartment. “I’m sorry, but I have to head home. It’s already late and I usually open the shop early.” You explain as you stand up. Yeosang looks at you with alarm as you nearly stumble from the rush.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“What?”

“It’s late isn’t it? Going home alone isn’t safe, I’ll drive you home.”

--------

That’s how you ended up in his car, breezing through the wide streets as you direct him to where you live. “You don’t have the app?” You ask him as your eyes dart from building to building. You’ve been so used to using the trains and walking that you don’t really spend time looking up to see the bright signages and other restaurants. More things to explore in the future, perhaps.

“What app?” Yeosang asks as he weaves through corners and light traffic. You take that as a cue to explain to him that there’s this app that tells you where to go when traffic in the main roads are too heavy or when an accident has happened to be aware of and the like. All of this while you eat what’s left of your ice cream. Though you did have to explain as well that while you don’t see any use for the app, Wooyoung’s workmate, Yunho, uses it and it’s been helpful for him when he oversleeps.

Yeosang chortles at the reasoning. “Well, I might use that app then despite not being the type to oversleep.” He spots your apartment building, based on your descriptions earlier. “I suppose that is your place?” He looks around. This seems to be a few stops away from your coffee shop. The more he learns, he supposes.

You sent Wooyoung a quick text saying you’d be home in five minutes should he still be awake. “Yes! That’s the building, you can just drop me off here.” You say as you look out the window to make sure there weren't any cars coming so you could hop off.

“I’ll drive you there, just sit tight.” He reassures. The drive was smooth, stopping just by the entrance of the apartment complex with a pleasant smile. “At least I can tell San that I can still make a drive be pleasant.” At his words, you raise a questioning eyebrow at him. “Another story for another time, I’ll see you again soon I hope?” He asks.

“Of course.” You return as you hop off the car. “Stay safe please?” You ask, as you wave at him. He shoots you this smile, and it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat. Too much that you have to remind yourself that the two of you are just friends, that regretting not having given him a kiss is not very friend-like. You watch him drive off until you can’t see the car anymore, by then you head inside back to the safety of your own abode.

--------

He arrives home, his mind still replaying the way you looked so flustered before he left. You were lovely in his eyes, that much he can admit. He tosses the keys on to the table. His coat shrugged off and hung somewhere. Coming home to an empty apartment after being with company and bright lights is a little disorienting. Maybe he should really invest in softer lighting for his home. He switches the lights on, and heaves a tired sigh. It’s been a long day but it was a fun one. Should he consider having you and Wooyoung room with him here? Granted, he already has a room for San whenever he’s in the mood for company as well. It’s been a ritual for him as well to let his place become a haven for those who have been injured through out the years. Perhaps that’s another thought for another day.

As he prepares himself a cup of tea, he goes through the current happenings around him. It was a little alarming that reports of crime were shooting up, some of which bearing certain similarities that he hopes the officials catch soon. The crimes reported haven’t changed regardless of the presence of a god’s protection. He’ll also have to talk to the security in the museum to keep anything from being stolen.

This reminds him to check on any emails concerning the museum and their upcoming events. Most of them were updates of planned exhibitions with other museums outside the country, along with events in partnership with brands in the country. It was rather tiresome really, same routine with every museum, every shop, anything to keep the museum running in ethical ways. Though he wonders how the gardens in the museum are coming along, the seasons are slowly changing and this means that some plants will have to be changed in order to keep up with appearances and health.

His cup of tea was finally ready when he remembered to send you a message.

[ Yeosang to You ] Hey, I’m finally home. I had fun today :)

No less than five minutes did you manage to return the text.

[ You to Yeosang ] I’m glad, I had fun too~ Sleep well!

He finds himself smiling at your reply as he takes a sip. He had a feeling that tonight, he’ll be able to sleep well.

Unknown to him and the rest of the staff, a small bud was already growing.

--------

“I got a proposition for you.”

Whenever Wooyoung has those words come out of his mouth, you were sure it wasn’t a good idea. Regardless of the fear, you entertain his thoughts. “And what is it?” You ask, your focus on the ceramic mug that you dry in your hands.

“What if I work with you here?” You were thankful for your reflexes for not falling lax at such an offer. The idea of Wooyoung working with you was okay to put it nicely but there was an important question you had to raise.

“Why?” You ask him as you keep the clean mug away. It was a Wednesday, which meant business runs slow. This is also the reason as to why Wooyoung was in your shop and not at home catching up on sleep.

“For starters, you work alone.” He says, raising his pointer finger. “Two, you’re practically dating Yeosang by now.” He raises his middle finger and it takes all your will power to not freeze his fingers off his hand. “Three, I want to help you with your work.” You admit, he’s got a good heart but you still want to freeze his hand off.

“Do I have time to think about this?” You ask, keeping an eye on the students who seem to be preparing for a final just a few tables away from you.

“Well, yeah you do cause you pretty much call the shots in this place.” Wooyoung returns with a shrug. “It’s just an offer.” he reminds you. “Oh yeah, is Yeosang coming today?”

You eye him in confusion. “I hope so..? Why?”

“Hope so, huh.” He repeats, a smug grin on his lips.

At his teasings, you let a rush of icy wind brush past the back of his neck, cold enough that snowflakes appear when he touches the skin. “We’re not dating! And yes, i do hope he comes in today or at least I think he will?” He didn’t really send you any message that says he won’t be able to make it today so you were rather confused. Then again, he and Yeosang have started to become good friends as well. San, though impressed, was just as alarmed considering how mischievous Wooyoung could get.

“It’s nice to see Yeosang make friends outside his work. I’m glad you and Wooyoung came along.” San said as he watches Yeosang fall for Wooyoung’s jokes and tricks.

You on the other hand, were behind the counter, cleaning up the coffee machines. The high pitched laughter echoing in the room countered by embarrassed chuckles and feeble attempts to defend themselves. “You think so?” You ask.

San catches onto your light hearted sarcasm and giggles. “Yeah. Guess you can say, you kind of opened him up to a world beyond what he knew. He’s been insistent in learning trends.” He continues. “Oh and don’t tell him i told you but he also wants to learn how you make your coffee. He can never get it like you do. Don’t be surprised if he ends his work early just to ask you to teach him how to make coffee.”

By then the two of you knew it was Yeosang’s way of spending time with you whenever work allowed the two of you to do so.

“Not dating yet.” He takes the extra effort to emphasize the ‘yet’. “Kid, I’m telling you,” he continues, not paying any mind to the lasers that shoot out of your eyes due to being called a Kid. “The two of you are going to date sooner or later.”

Just as he finishes his sentence, San enters the premises. You stand up straight to welcome him just like any other customer but by now you also know his usual order. “Usual order?” You ask him, already ready to write his order on his cup.

He shoots the two of you a cheeky smile. “Yeah, for me and Yeosang.'' The cheeky smile turns a little bashful now as he eyes the treats on display. “Can I also get the lavender blueberry sponge cake, two slices, to go? Yeosang’s been stressed with meetings today.”

Hearing this, your eyebrows furrow in concern. “Would tea be better for him then?”

The male shakes his head. “Coffee might do him better for his work. If we got time to come by later, then yeah give him tea.” You and Wooyoung look at each other, slightly alarmed and worried for him but the explanation will come for another time.

“Sure thing. “ With the payments out of the way, San and Wooyoung catch up as you prepare his orders.

“Something up?” Wooyoung asks, rather worried to see San be this concerned for Yeosang and also look just as stressed.

San takes this moment to take a deep breath and deflate in his seat. “Some of the sponsors are being illogical along with some logistical problems for upcoming exhibitions so all of us are pressed for time and resources.” He runs his fingers through his hair, already tousled by the amount of times he’s been doing the same motion since this morning. “On top of that, a break in just happened near the museum so security measures have been heightened.” San says under his breath, not wanting anyone to overhear that statement.

Wooyoung looks at him in alarm, then looks at his phone for any updates on their area. He wonders if leaving you alone would be a good idea at this rate. “There’s nothing yet on social media..” He mutters, still concerned for you.

“The media’s on their way to cover the situation so give it around ten minutes.” San explains, by then you arrive at the table with his orders packed up for him to pick up and go.

“Tell Yeosang, I said hi?” You say as you watch the two of them, sensing the tension in the air. “Something wrong?”

San shakes his head for now. “Just the usual work stuff, thanks for the food, I have to get going now.” He picks up the bag and bids the two of you farewell. “I’ll send your regards as well.” He says before running out the door.

You glance at Wooyoung and he shows his phone to you. “Besides stressful work issues, a break in happened nearby so their stress hasn’t been anything nice.” You read through the news article: nothing valuable was taken but everything’s in disarray. Though the museum’s a little further down the road from the break in, and further away from your shop, you’re a little worried for your own shop’s security as well. You also know how protective Wooyoung is of you.

“Fine, you can work with me in this shop, your shift’s gonna depend on your availability as well since I know you have to create choreographies and teach them.” You state. He smiles a little too triumphantly this time, mostly due to the relief of knowing you’re safe and because he can keep you company as well. “This also means I have to teach you how to work these machines…” You note with a sigh, you were never confident in your teaching skills.

“Hey don’t lose faith in me. I pick up quickly, don’t I?” Wooyoung croons with a proud smile.

“Do you have a shift today in the studio?” You ask as you look through the cabinets.

“No why?” The answer to his question is an apron tossed in his direction.

“Good, I’m teaching you today then, get your butt over here,”

--------

The two of you crash onto the chairs after a long day of working. Wooyoung glances over at you as he rubs his sore muscles, wondering how you’re able to do this day in and day out, all alone. You don’t seem to be as fazed as he is, as all you do is stretch in your seat. “How do you do this on your own?” Wooyoung asks, now that it’s only the two of you in the shop.

“I have to.” You say simply. It’s rare for Wooyoung to hear you complain as well. This was something you wanted after all. The only complaints he hears from you are usually just muscle pain that he helps ease, and the occasional horror customer. Besides the occasional pet discussion, he never hears you complain over how hard your job is. Meanwhile, he always complains about his. Not that you minded them, some of them are rather valid. He was simply the type to externally process what happened before being able to move on.

He catches you often looking towards the door, in hopes of seeing Yeosang. “He hasn’t said anything yet huh?” He asks, a little sad for you as well. He knows how much you look forward to seeing him, even if you don’t say anything about it.

You shake your head, your phone’s been silent the entire day and with San’s explanation, it makes sense why he’d be busy. Maybe you can send him a message? But wouldn’t that disrupt his work?

“Just send it.” Wooyoung says, hanging his legs over the arm rest. Well, at least it’s not his shoes against the arm rest. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Were you that transparent in his eyes?

You shoot him a pout but take out your phone. You didn’t think he’d send you a message now.

[ Yeosang to You ] Still in the shop?

“He just messaged me, asking if I’m still in the shop.” You say, blinking at the message, slightly surprised.

“Well, you are so let him in.” Wooyoung says, eyeing the door. The mentioned guy was standing outside the shop, clearly exhausted from a long day. His words confuse you as you still gaze at the phone screen so he takes the honor to unlock the door to let the man in, then lock it once more. “Didn’t think you’d be able to drop by after what San told us.” Your friend notes, noting the loosened tie. He wonders just how much he had to go through today.

It’s only by the time the wind chimes chirp of someone’s entrance that you look up from your phone. The man responsible for the weird heart racing you’ve been getting is in front of you but instead of letting out your frustrations, you heave a sigh of relief to see him alive in one piece. “You’re lucky we haven’t closed the place for the day.”

“Not like they could until they saw you.” Your best friend cuts in much to Yeosang’s delight.

“I see Wooyoung’s now working for you?” Yeosang says, as he takes a seat on the stool next to your table. A soft groan slips from his lips as he finally feels peace after a tiring day.

“Do you want anything?” Wooyoung offers, as you watch the two of them banter in front of you. You let Wooyoung take the lead for his order this time, wanting to see just how much he has picked up today.

“Earl grey tea-- do you guys still have a vanilla macaron?” Yeosang throws back as he removes his blazer, folding it over his arms.

“Gotcha.” He says simply, already getting to work.

“It’s on me.” You tell him as you slip towards the stool across him. He takes the chance to hold your hand, holding it close to his lips.

“I apologize for the late arrival, my dear. Work was not merciful today.” He mumbles softly against your skin. “I was looking forward to seeing you today at a preferably earlier time.” His voice clearly carried the stress of unexpected problems that you wonder what else went wrong after San’s visit. Wooyoung comes back with his order, already pulling up another stool to listen to Yeosang’s woes. “I won’t stay too long today, it’s been a long day and I’m sure the two of you had a busy day.” It was a little worrisome to see him try to keep his stress to a minimum when it’s already clearly nearing the limits. You wonder how much he kept from you the past few weeks.

You don’t notice the look Wooyoung gives you at how intimate you and Yeosang look. Your eyes are on Yeosang the entire time, his free hand taking a sip of the tea, tension in his shoulders easing at the warmth of the tea spreads around him. “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask carefully.

He shakes his head. “For another time, I promise I will fill you in on them.” He says. He opens his eyes after a while, and it shocks you how vividly blue his eyes are. They weren’t the striking ice blue the foreigners have, rather it’s a deep blue. The blue that reminds you of how vast and deep the world you live in is, you don’t know why that came into your mind but it did. But, why does it feel so familiar? “Are the two of you done cleaning for today?” He asks all of a sudden. The two of you look around and the only thing left was to take out the trash.

“Just need to take the trash out then we’re done for the day.”

“How will the two of you head home?”

Wooyoung and you look at each other, surprised by the question. “Well, we just take the train.” His eyes darken just a bit and you want to ask Wooyoung so badly if you’re seeing things. He shakes his head.

“That won’t do. The two of you can ride with me on the way home tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” The two friends ask at the same time, much to Yeosang’s amusement.

“It’s late, though I trust and know that the two of you can protect yourselves.” He starts, gesturing at the visions the two of you carry. “But it is late, the recent crimes have been spiking. Let me pay back your kindness through this at least.” He wasn’t leaving any room to sway his decision so the two of you take his offer. This time you take the responsibility to throw out the trash, the two of them waiting for you by the door.

You wonder what has been going on nowadays for them to be this worried. Frankly, while you were touched by such concern, you were also frustrated. You know how to protect yourself with or without your vision. You’re not the same helpless child that saw the atrocities of this world. Busy in your thoughts, you don’t see a figure keeping an eye on you from a distance. Just as you look at their direction, it disappears. The familiar feeling of dread doesn’t leave, it lingers and it makes your skin crawl. Quietly, you coat your hands with a thin sheet of ice as you make your way back to the two.

“You okay?” Wooyoung asks, noticing how alert you’ve become. He sees the ice around your fists and already he’s on high alert, looking around. Yeosang too notices the frost forming around your skin and wonders what you have encountered.

“Let’s go.” He simply states, making sure that you were walking next to him and Wooyoung. The way your features became so cloudy was a concern but he’ll have to ask Wooyoung for more information for another day. What matters now is your safety.

--------

It’s only in the safety of his car that Wooyoung starts to freak out again over how loaded Yeosang is. Maintenance for this car model isn’t easily affordable, especially for its size. Did you understand anything of what Wooyoung has been talking about? Vaguely. Yet Yeosang manages to answer everything with ease that you wonder just how much he knows beyond art, and history.

On the other hand, The ice around your fists has melted into puddles at your feet. “Sorry for the mess..” You say under your breath. Yeosang doesn’t miss a beat about it, saying that they’re rubber so it’s nothing that can be easily cleaned. His tea was already finished by the time the three of you were near your apartment.

Honestly, if his work hadn’t let him off so late, he could’ve already asked the question already but he’ll have to wait until he arrives outside your apartment. “He knows where we live?” Wooyoung asks, realizing that you didn’t have to give him directions.

“Yeah, he brought me home after our hangout last time, so I just directed him.”

He takes pride in his clear memory, smiling to himself as he can already picture the bashful smile of yours as Wooyoung looks at the two of you incredulously. “So when are you guys going to be officially dating?”

The question causes your heart to race once more, despite your calm exterior. Yeosang as well, appears composed. Yet, the shock of Wooyoung’s honesty can be felt in the car. “Well.” Yeosang speaks up. “That depends on our dear, here, if they would be okay with it.” Just in time, the car slows down to a stop outside your apartment complex.

You face Yeosang, with your heart beating fast, your hands feel cold even without the frost. “I-I’d like that.” You manage to sputter out.

“Thank heavens.” Wooyoung exclaims, eyeing the two of you like the relief of an impatient sibling.

“Can I fancy you to a date soon?” Yeosang says as he unlocks the car, giving Wooyoung the chance to look away from such an exchange.

Ever the cheeky guy, he stays and waits for your answer.

“I’d like that.” You repeat softly, you couldn’t believe yourself for being able to speak up after such a shocking twist of events.

“Lovely, I’ll update you then.” Yeosang promises, waving the two of you a good night.

Wooyoung then hooks his arm around your shoulder as the two of you head back into the safety of your apartment. “About time, the two of you became a thing, he keeps asking me how to properly court you.” He says much to your flustered state.

Will you be able to sleep tonight?

--------

On the way home, Yeosang’s phone rings. It’s San.

“Hello? I’m driving. Can this wait?”

“Depends, are you at a red light or not?” San asks. When San’s voice goes that deep, it’s serious. He eyes the stop light.

“53 seconds.”

“The officials found a symbol on the break in. They don’t know what it is yet but gave us a copy in case we see it somewhere.”

49.

“What is it?” Already, Yeosang feels his blood rush to his ears.

“It’s a severed triquetra symbol.” San doesn’t have to say anything else anymore after that as Yeosang lets out a growl.

It seems they’ve returned. The question is why. “I’ll be home by 5 minutes. 20 seconds on the red light. I’ll call you.” WIth that he hangs up, in time for the red light to turn green. While people forget the events, he doesn’t.

It’s been so long since the Abyss has acted up. The last being a few thousand years back. The last few immortals like him and San remember their deeds. The Abyss was responsible for a battle he had to fight that wiped out a huge land mass in the region he now resides in.

The question that disturbs him: Who or what are they looking for? Because as far as his memory remembers, they stop at nothing to get what they want.

--------

A field.

This is the second time you’ve been here. Around you were plants that you don’t see everyday, in fact some of these look very odd to you. As you look around, hoping to make sense of this dream, you see someone dipping their feet into the clear water.

Just as you approach them, they stand up. It was hard to make out what gender they were: the clothes hang onto them like water slowly freezing, nor did they carry any feature that could separate a man from a woman. They smile at you, as if they’ve been expecting you this entire time. “It’s nice to see you.” They say, voice soft and calming.

“Apologies for not introducing myself, I’m Aos. I’m sorry I didn’t make myself known a little sooner.” They say. The apology doesn’t make any sense to you as you continue to gaze at them.

Despite them having introduced themselves to you, the name still doesn’t ring a bell. They don’t seem fazed at all to see your questioning eyes on them, in fact, they chuckle lightly at how confused you look. You manage to get a better look of their eyes and it reminds you of the sky when the sun is barely above the horizon. “What’s happening?” You manage to ask after getting yourself out of your trance.

“Nothing really. This is just me reaching out to you and giving you my blessing.” Again, the figure speaks in riddles. The last time they did was when Wooyoung’s family took you in, shortly after you were given your vision. You wonder what was going to happen this time.

The world around you loses its color for a split second and neither of you miss this slip up. “It seems that you’ll wake soon. I won’t make this any longer then, this might be our last meeting. Take care of yourself” The color around you fades into greys and whites, yet they don’t. The way they bid you farewell, reminds you too much of your mother and it makes your eyes hot.

“When you get the chance, tell him I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

Before you could make some sort of sense, you feel someone shaking you awake. “Hey.” Wooyoung’s voice rouses you awake, and you don’t miss the concern in his voice. “You were crying in your sleep.” He states, seeing how dazed your eyes are as you try to look around, startled.

That’s when you notice that you were holding onto your bracelet while sleeping, and he was right. Your pillow felt damp with your tears. “Weird dream.” You groan out as you wake yourself up for another day.

Your phone flashes at 6:30AM, why did Wooyoung wake you up earlier than usual? It’s only then that you realize that it was raining once more. Couldn’t you get a few more minutes of shut eye after such a weird dream? The groggy feeling takes a little longer to shake off but you eventually get yourself out of bed.

--------

“What’s your plan today?” At least you are finally looking a little more presentable as you enter the living room.

“Choreography teaching for an idol group this morning until afternoon. I can close up the shop for you if you got plans today.” Wooyoung says, teasing you a little now that you’re more awake.

It’s not hard to miss out on what he insinuates with such that you roll your eyes at him. “It’s not today yet,” referring to your date, “but I need to visit a few shops to buy some ingredients and other stuff by 5PM.” You had plans of opening the shop a little later the following day, wanting to change the interiors even by just a bit. That and having to stay up later than usual to bake and experiment with new recipes was starting to catch up with you.

“Yeah I can take over by then. I’ll be at the shop by 4:30.” Wooyoung promises. He might have to be a little stricter today to get things finished quickly but the group he’s teaching today are quick learners. He can see so much potential in them too.

You flash a grateful smile as you eat. “Your overtime’s covered, I promise.” From this, Wooyoung hops around in glee. Of course, he was eyeing a new clothing line.

A glance at the time and you figured you should get moving. “I’ll see you later then. I need to start moving.” You say standing up from your seat.

“Lunch is by the counter!” He calls out from his seat as he watches you get your things and shoot out the door. With him now on his own, he lets out a sigh. He heard your mumblings earlier and those were the same words you muttered after you were gifted with your vision. Even when you looked put together for the day, there was still a hint of confusion in your eyes that you can’t quite hide from him. Whatever it is, he hopes things will turn out a little better this time.

--------

“Can we do three more runs after a five minute water break?” Wooyoung asks, sympathizing with the boys as they’re now drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. After the chorus of agreements, he lets the boys off for a few minutes and decides to check on you and Yeosang.

[ Wooyoung to You ] How’s work?

[ Wooyoung to Yeosang ] What’s up? Are you gonna drop by later?

It’s only Yeosang who manages to reply immediately.

[ Yeosang to Wooyoung ] There have been better days, but I will be alright. Yes I will be there later.

Seeing that you haven’t replied yet, he just chalks it up to rush hour. The boys enter the room and he puts his phone down. “Ready?” He asks just as he’s about to press play, he sees Yunho peeking into the studio. “Uh, give me a moment. Hyunjae, can you clean the choreo slowly while I’m gone? I’ll make it quick.” The male excuses himself to check on his peer, quietly leaving the studio. “What’s up?”

“Did their manager tell you of the changes to the schedule?” Yunho asks and by the way Wooyoung looks at him with wide eyes and that already tells him what he needs to know.

“Tomorrow or the day after will be the shooting day.” With such information being told to him, he panics a little, unsure if he has clothes that could fit a recording for this. He probably does but he’ll need your help assembling it.

“Okay, uh, forward the email to me and cc it to Popsicle.” Somehow the nickname doesn’t faze Yunho, already knowing well that he meant you. It’s not like there were a lot of cryo vision holders anyway. Yunho shoots him an okay signal and Wooyoung takes this as a sign to head back to his work. “Okay, let’s take it to the top? 3 runs at 100% energy then we can eat lunch.” He says as he enters the studio once more. The proposed plan instills a little bit of fear on the boys but he continues on. “No worries, there’ll be a break in between before going at it again.”

Beneath the calm demeanor he had for the boys right now, he was slightly panicking for his schedule in the next few days. He hopes you wouldn’t mind him being MIA for a day or two.

Wooyoung’s schedule has turned a little more hectic now thanks to the sudden update of the shooting. Not that he minds since at least he’s not at home whenever he’s not needed in the studio. If it means helping lessen the stress on you and keeping you safe then he doesn’t really mind it.

Though, he doesn’t know if you’ve been keeping an eye on the news lately. You still carry on with your day like normal. If he has a shift in the dance studio, he asks Yeosang or San to accompany you to the studio, no matter how many times you reassure that it’s okay for you to walk alone, either one of them is adamant about it.

He spares a glance at the clock as he watches the boys dance. The four hours will fly by quickly.

--------

“Yeosang, you might have to skip on meeting with them today.” Part 3

#yeosang fanfiction #my writings #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #yeosang scenarios #yeosang x reader #ateez x reader

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marigold-doms · 4 years

Text

Mystic Destiny || Choi San ||

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Pairing: merman!san x human!reader

Word Count: 3.3k (slow burn)

Warning! this contains: Mystical creatures, racism (please know that racism is NOT okay nor will it EVER be), 18+ scenes, mature language, smoking, and death. Slight gore(only mentions of blood) Mentions topics about hate, immigration, and racial struggle in the beginning. Just be aware of that. Skip the beginning, if it makes you that uncomfortable. I also apologize for any inaccurate information on the mystical world of fantasy. I did do research but not to the extent of being an expert so I appreciate it if you can enjoy the story as it’s written.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Pearl || Ep. 1 ||

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Rewind……

50 years ago (1970) : Choi San, 17 years old.

Choi San hated living here. Land of the free? Home of the brave? All of that was complete fool’s talk. Who the hell said that the people who live here are brave? Bold was a better word. Bold enough to make every part of his days living here a walk in hell.

All seventeen years of his life up until his junior year in high school were golden. He did martial arts. Spoke English well. Danced well and even sang in his free time.

Shit hit the fan when his parents decided to send him off abroad to this stupid country he felt like never welcomed him in the first place. It wasn’t the American dream that they thought would magically happen for him. Sure, his family was loaded. It helped him out since he did live by himself. Maybe in a sense, his parents were tired of seeing San care less and less about the reality of the world that sending him away was a better solution than actually pushing him to dream bigger. San never wanted to be shoved to a foreign country without his family.

He hated most people here anyways. He hated that they made fun of his hobbies, sense of style, and most of all— his race.

He never understood the appeal of putting down others for the temporary pleasure of feeding one's self esteem. It wasn’t his fault that his parents no longer wanted to see him live youthfully. San couldn’t argue back with much force to the bullying and racial abuse because he got used to allowing himself to become so numb to everyone around him. In his eyes, it was better to feel nothing than the pain that was presented to him everyday. If anything, he felt like he was the most insensitive and undeserving out of anyone. So it was only natural for him not to feel any reverend justice for standing up to anyone for himself. Maybe he deserved it.

That being said, his group of friends weren’t exactly the best people either. San entered into this school during his junior year and he socially scrambled to find a place to fit in. Which so happened to be a group of three friends consisting of odd and misplaced guys named Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Mingi.

They were basically the entire population of the Asian demographic in their high school. San wasn’t sure if that made things worse for him or better. He just couldn’t wait to graduate in the upcoming fall.

The leaves fell in the next semester and he could sense that there was no way out of this hell hole unless he graduated. His friends started getting girlfriends and the only person that would talk to him after school hours was Wooyoung.

“Dude, maybe you just need to get a girlfriend.” Puffs of smoke left Wooyoung’s parted lips. “Or someone to fuck.”

“And what will I do with that?” San cringed his nose from the smell of nicotine and ash.

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung held the cigarette out to San, waiting for him to take it. When he doesn’t, Wooyoung shrugged, deciding to take another long pull. “There’s a lot of girls that ask about you though. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind letting you hit.”

“Not interested.”

“You gay or something?” Wooyoung asked out of curiosity. “I’m sure there’s also takers for that.”

San huffed out a laugh. “I don’t swing like that.”

“Hey,” Wooyoung flashed him a lazy smile. “You ain’t that bad. Guys would line up to give you a little blow.”

“I’m not gay, Woo.” San can’t help but feel some type of way.

Wooyoung laughed to tease him. “Whatever you say, handsome.”

It wasn’t that he was gay. Or that he wasn’t interested in talking to girls. He just knew better than to let some poor girl get involved with any form of contact with him. San was destructive but in all matters of himself. There was no way he’d let someone’s emotions get messed up from the way he internally abuses himself.

He gazed at the cigarette in between Wooyoung’s fingertips. “You think those would kill someone if they smoked non-stop?”

“I guess it would. Why would you ask that?”

“Just curious,” San extends his hand. “Pass it.”

Wooyoung hesitated. San did reject the offer earlier. Why the sudden choice to do it now?

Once the end of the cigarette meets San’s lips, his inexperience is evident as soon as the first swirl of smoke infiltrates his lungs. Causing his throat to constrict and eyes to water from coughing. The sensation burned throughout his upper body.

The pain felt good.

Wooyoung nervously laughed from the growing smirk on San’s face. Attempting to snatch the small bud from his hand. San pulls it out of his reach and inhales another puff despite the burn coursing through his lungs.

He wanted more.

****************************

Present: (Y/F/N), 2020.

“I’m headed out, Mace.”

Your roommate, Macy, lifts her head from her laptop. “Wait,”

You pause to look at her. Avoiding eye contact. “Hm?”

‘Where are you headed?” Macy knows that it’s way too late for you to be going out. Plus, it was only on a rare occasion that you’d leave during the night.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back by morning.” You collect your skates into a duffle bag and grab your keys.

Macy has only a few seconds to either stop you or tell you to wait for her to come with you but the amount of work in her inbox beckons her to stay home and talk to you about it later. “Text me then.”

Without another word of explanation, you wave your hand to her and shut the door behind you. After zipping up your jacket, you leave the silent apartment complex and lock yourself in your car.

On the drive over to the lake, you realize how lonely you’ve been. Ever since the last conversation with the doctor, you determined that this was the last wreckless thing you’d do. There was no fixing what life had given you. If there was an opportunity to let you reverse time, you’d spend it thanking everyone for being there for you. Even when no one knew of your latest doctor’s appointment.

“If we’re talking about time, Miss (y/l/n). I give it about 3 months until the cancer metastasizes to your brain.”

No take backs or “what if’s”. You didn’t want to hate or blame anyone for this. It was purely fate.

This was absolutely terrifying. You were absolutely insane.

Your skate meets the solid ice and for a moment your heart races.

Will it hold?

Too late now. One foot glides in front of the other and you gently skate your way towards the middle of the lake. The crisp air sucks away your breath as you begin to feel the contraction of your muscles starting to heat from the amount of effort it took to keep up with yourself. It wasn’t long before the pain started to burn through your nerve endings. You decide that it’s better not to think about how tired your body is. Instead, you allow your thoughts to roam.

At first, it wandered to your memories from skating at the ice rink with your friends. Then to the songs that you remembered playing while hanging out with them. To your favorite favorite music. And where the memories started to get sour; your favorite song. You loved to dance to it. The way your body would just follow and take control of you. A lost cause now that it seems this is the last your body will remember of being active.

You are doing the very thing that your physician told you not to do.

The pain is stronger now. Once this thought enters your mind you’re hit with the truth. You couldn’t ignore the sensation. Your body was giving up on you. It was cold. Your muscles are overworked and your mind is abusing all will to have hope.

It happens in a second.

The ice gives from under your feet and breaks from the surface. Sinking to the bottom.

A loud crack and scream combine as your body reacts to the sudden force of gravity. The sound rattling the creature beneath.

In the middle of the lake. Lower half is completely wet and frozen from the water beneath the surface of the ice. Sharp stabs from the freezing water pricked your skin and you were slipping. With no human within ear shot to hear you, the sounds of your screams echoed back at you with pathetic reverb.

A desperate reality hits you and you realize that you couldn’t swim. No one would be here to save you from your death.

As your legs burned from the weight of your skates, your body sunk. The metal on the bottoms of your feet slammed against your shins—if it wasn’t terrible enough, your arm was getting torn up by the sharp edges of the broken ice. All the odds are against you and your survival. You faced the fact and no longer struggled against fate.

Dark.

It’s so dark.

The water was burning. Through your airways and through your throat. In a sense… It was warmth.

This feels nice.

As soon as you become limp, the creature swims closer. Curiosity fills him as he wonders why a human would swim while the surface was hard. Usually, during the summer, he’d observe that humans enjoyed activities during the day. Not when the moon was so high in the sky. Not when the temperatures were this low—humans are weak.

The merman hurries to the unmoving body.

Humans can’t live in water.

He didn’t understand where he’d come to know of this but he followed his gut instinct.

At first, he carefully examined her. The way her soft skin looked so thin and fragile to the hairs wisping around her as she sunk deeper into the water. She had weird attachments to her bottom limbs that molded into unnatural shapes.

She’s so quiet. He thought to himself.

The merman did not want to wake her. She looked like she was asleep.

He realizes that he hasn’t slept for a while. Maybe humans need to sleep often. He wasn’t sure if she would wake up, but the thought occurs in a delay when he finally touches her.

Her limp body moves from the slight force he used to touch her. Only then did the merman notice the blood seeping from her skin into the water around her.

Why was she so cold? She wasn’t moving and her body was leaking with red fluid… So fragile.

He doesn’t want to think too much but there was something off about this human. She seemed lost. Much too comfortable with being underwater.

Didn’t humans need to breathe regular air?

Oh no… The merman began to panic. What if she’s dead?

Quickly, he wraps his steady arms around her unmoving body and swims towards the hard surface.

How did she get through the ice?

He examines her face again and for some reason he touches her icy cheek. Her skin mashes against his smooth palm and for the first time in a long while, he smiles.

He wanted to help you. The lonely creature couldn’t remember the last time that he actually interacted with a human. Something carnal was also driving him. Since he was semi-immortal, age was slow to impact him. He concluded that this drive wasn’t a strange appetite for hunger.

Time. Humans felt that.

How long was the merman dallying before the human lost all hope in being helped? He couldn’t gauge the time.

Oh no. Time.

Death. He is reminded that humans do die.

That’s what the merman was dealing with and the very thought strikes him. He just killed someone. He couldn’t help this human. She was dead. The first few moments with a living person and he lets them die.

Nothing’s really brought him to this point but he ends up feeling an unfamiliar burning in his eyes. A pearl falls from his eyes into the water. He catches it between his fingers. (A/n: mermaids cry pearls) The small sphere glows through the rays of the moonlit water.

Air. Humans need air.

The ignorant merman didn’t know what to do. More of his pearls fell from his eyes as he searched above him. There.

A few yards away there was a hole in the hard ice. His fin propelled them forward and he held onto the lifeless human. He didn’t know how but he managed to get both of them above the water.

The unfamiliar air tickles his warm ears since he hadn’t resurfaced in a while. His body was a furnace. Always generating heat. Maybe if he wrapped his arms around her, the human would heat up.

The human slowly did, but her fingers were turning blue. The creature could tell this human was dead. She looked so alike compared to his upper half but so lifeless. What if he knew this person from when he was a human? What if she was young and had more life in her? What if he could’ve saved her? How could he let an innocent life slip through his fingers after not coming into contact with the world for so long.

More pearls fall from his eyes and roll over the glossy ice. He was melting the surface from his body heat so he sunk back into the water. Pearls continued to hit the water and the ice but the merman made sure to keep her limp body in sight.

She was dead. What use was it to watch over her?

He couldn’t remember the last time another being besides the fish in the lake stayed by him. The small memories he had from 50 years ago flood back to the creature and his thoughts fill him with sorrow.

A melody bellows from within him and he weeps with song filling the shrill silence around them.

The God of Light awakes from the merman’s melody. Pleased with the creature’s song.

“God of the Shadows, a merman is calling out and weeping to us.”

“Seonghwa, Stop calling me that.” Hongjoong grumbles, cringing at the light seeping into the room. “You awoke me for a mere merman? Let him suffer.”

“It’s the one from 50 winters ago.” Seonghwa’s thumb strokes along the face of his golden stopwatch.

The memories flood back into the God of the Shadow’s spirit and it’s enough to coax him to rise from his bed. “Is he with the same people?”

“Come watch.”

The God of the Shadows plucks his silver clad fan from his wardrobe. Presuming his position next to his brother as they enter the Terra Conservatory of Humans.

The creature’s melody fills the conservatory and the two God’s listen in to his plea.

Blood surrounds the human next to the merman and Seonghwa exchanges a glance at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong flicks his fan open and shakes his head. “She’s almost at my threshold.”

“She has too much life left to live. Give her back.” Seonghwa watches intensely, observing the two beings.

“I can only slow her down. I can’t force her. You know that.” Hongjoong sighs. Fanning himself with indifference.

“Please cooperate with me, Brother.” Seonghwa gives the God of Shadows a side eye.

The God of the Shadows huffs stubbornly before shutting his fan. He twirls his wrist before flicking the fan open again.

Back down on the cold ice of the lake, the merman’s pearls sink down and mix with the blood of the human throughout the water beneath them.

At this point all that filled him was sorrow and regret. How could he let such a frail human’s life slip through his fingers?

“I’m- I’m so sorry!” The creature’s warm hands clasp over her skin.

In the long and dark hallway towards a Victorian styled archway, you hear a melody that slowly starts to increase in volume from behind you. Fear blankets over you and you realize that you’re walking towards the passageway of the afterlife.. A man with a silver shining fan waves his tool in your direction, shadows wash over him like a cloak and immediately you make a decision.

I just want to be alive.

Instead of embracing the shadows, you force your feet to lead you back to the beautiful sound of singing. That voice. That melody. Your spirit was being led back to earth and you could gradually feel the warmth of a rapid heart beat thumping in your chest.

You cough. Hard.

The water which filled your lungs spilled from your lips and burned on the way out.

Pain. Oh, how relieving it was to feel pain again.

Your eyes blank and for a few seconds your body is trying to catch up with life back on earth. Safe to say that you were under shock. You had just witnessed the supernatural. Something that you would have called ridiculous and absurd. How would you explain?

Your ears are literally ringing. You just died.

That voice. Whoever was singing… they saved you.

You search over the ice to seek for anyone nearby. No one.

Until the water burbles below the ice. There in the hole. You were one hundred percent positive that you had fallen through.

How did I get here? Who pulled me out of the water?

You began to wonder if it was that shadow man with the silver fan from the end of the long, dark hallway. But the more you pondered over the thought it just seemed impossible.

Your cold pinky finger brushes against something smooth and round. The moonlight was reflective enough against the marbled object for you to observe that it’s a pearl. It’s iridescence resembled the blue rays of a clear and misty oceanic wave.

It’s been a few minutes and the adrenaline bombarding your body loses its peak.

You remember the lacerations that your skates caused you as you tried to swim from the bottom before you died. Your jeans are torn and you’re covered in the metallic smell and crimson of your own blood. To gauge the severity of your wounds, you gather the courage to push the shredded fabric aside.

You gasp.

I can’t believe it.

You bled out. You definitely died. But... no wounds. None.

“You’re-” A man’s voice bounces off the water and into the shrill air. “You’re alive.”

Past your blood-stained skates, your eyes meet with the most beautiful shade of dark blue. His hair was so black that it shone like a navy crow against the moonlight. He was in the freezing water. Eyes wide and confound in everything he just witnessed.

“I-” You were speechless.

“You were dead…” He swims closer to the edge of the ice. You can’t put your finger on why he was so content in that freezing water. “I gathered you from the water... I- you were dead.”

“You brought me out?”

The stranger purses his lips, nodding his head. “I did.”

“I-” Your heart flutters inside of your chest and the feeling bubbles up through your words. “I was walking through the dark hall and saw this man-singing. Someone was singing. I had to run away. It was so cold-I was scared-”

“You heard?” The man’s torso elevates only a few more inches but you can visibly see the rippling water slide off his toned body. “You heard my singing?”

Nothing made sense. Everything that’s happened on this cursed lake shook you to the core. The shadow man. The wounds. The blood. The pearls. Death’s threshold.

There was only one evident piece of fact.

“You… You saved me.”

[ Ep. 1 ] >> [ Ep. 2 ] >>

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Tags (No obligation to read but I hope you guys like & support my new series<3):

@sakura-mars @nctrenjunie @filbert-forever @filbert-forever @wsrod-deszczu @owljungeun @allyreactions @jonghyuns-gurl @inavocados @burakovskybaby @hwilson16 @jimjamjaemin @sagexlove @neo-wonderland @neodreamwaves @kpopimaginesmut @yeo-dream @xiuminswifeforever

#Choi san #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez #admin mika #mika’s works #kpop smut #kpop imagines #san imagines #choi san imagines #ateez smut #choi san smut

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rosaguard · 3 years

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❀ . ━ ❛ FINAL FANTASY VII TERMS & LORE.

this is a lore dump created to help mutuals who aren’t familiar with the lore of ffvii should they wish to interact. this post will only cover information from the original game / OG ( ex. information that did not originate from the OG such as the arbiters of fate in the remake or deepground in dirge of cerberus is not going to be covered in this post ).

final fantasy vii is, on average, a 40 hour game with an entire compilation built around it that consists of prequels, a sequel movie, novels, a remake and more that build on ( and sometimes retcon ) parts of the original game. i cannot cover everything and thus this posts serves to be a stepping stone to help understand the basic gist of the lore before doing your own further research if you desire to. obvious spoilers will be present so read at your own discretion.

● AVALANCHE : an eco-terrorist organization that opposes shinra due to them slowly draining life from the planet. the organization has multiple cells ( or factions ) within and outside midgar with barret’s group being somewhat shunned due to their methods of bombing mako reactors being considered too extreme.

● CETRA : also known as the ‘ancients’. a migrant race that worships the planet, have the ability to speak with it directly, cast magic naturally, and can manipulate the lifestream’s energy. the ancient civilization was nearly wiped out by jenova thousands of years prior to the events of the game and canonically, aeris gainsborough is the last living ancient until her death.

● GAEA : a living organism and the planet that the story of ffvii takes place on. when injured, the planet is capable of healing itself with the lifestream and on rare occasions, it can be ‘heard’ by non-cetras when in extreme pain or distress. gaea is generally referred to as only ‘the planet’ by characters in-game ( *gaia’s used in the compilation but it’s never used in the original game - nor is the planet given a ‘name’ in general. i’m choosing to use ‘gaea’ because of a location in the northern crater that has the name, i like the way it sounds, and i can do what i want:tm: ).

● LIFESTREAM : the river of life that flows within the depths of gaea. the lifestream is both the planet’s consciousness and source of all life on the planet. all things are born from the lifestream and all things return to it to be born anew. the lifestream contains the knowledge, memories, and emotions of every life that returns to it after death. in my blog canon, aeris merges with the planet’s consciousness and becomes the personification of the planet / lifestream itself.

● PROMISED LAND : a fabled land in cetra legends believed to be a place of ‘supreme happiness’ that the cetra would find at the end of their journeys. shinra, believing it to be a place abundant in mako, desire it for an endless supply of energy. it’s speculated that the promised land isn’t a literal ‘place’ but the event of rejoining the lifestream once a life comes to an end.

● HUMANS : currently the most prominent race in gaea. humans were cetra that lost the ability to commune with the planet and use magic naturally when they abandoned their duties to cultivate life and traded their nomadic lifestyle for leisure and convenience. while the cetra civilization was decimated by jenova, humans were able to survive in greater numbers by hiding until the alien was locked away.

● JENOVA : otherwise known as the ‘calamity of the skies’ by the cetra. it is a creature of unknown origin that crashed onto northern gaea around thousand years ago via a meteorite. the crash inflicted so great a wound to the planet’s surface that the cetra to migrated north to heal the injury where the ‘calamity’, disguising itself as one of the cetra, would emerge and infect them. the cetra fell into ruin as they turned into monsters or died by their own kind’s hands before a few survivors were able to eventually seal the creature away.

● JENOVA PROJECT : thirty years prior to the start of the game, a team of shinra scientists discover the remains of the creature that fell from the skies thousands of years prior. mistaking the creature as a cetra, it would be named ‘jenova’ by professor gast and shinra would green light multiple projects in an attempt to produce a human-cetra hybrid - the most ‘successful’ being project s.

● PROJECT S : professor hojo and lucrecia crescent, two scientists on the jenova project, agree to use their own child as the subject of the project. the fetus is injected jenova’s cells while in the womb and although the speciman, sephiroth, couldn’t commune with the planet, he displayed impressive abilities greater than any natural soldier. the data and research of project s would lead to the development and creation of SOLIDER.

● SOLDIER : an elite group of super soldiers ranked by three classes - first class being the highest. although it is known to the general public that they are infused with mako to get their heightened strength, candidates that approved to be in SOLDIER are unknowingly injected with not only mako but jenova cells as well.

● MAKO : the liquid form of the lifestream. although mako can erupt from the group naturally, it is most often forcibly extracted from the planet for use by the shinra electric power company. due to shinra monopolizing mako energy and spreading mako reactors globally over the past forty years, mako is the main electric power source across the planet until post-meteorfall.

● MAKO POISONING : the state one enters into when exposed to a high concentration of mako for too long. since mako is essentially the lifestream, those who experience mako poisoning and survive are often left in a comatose state due to being overwhelmed by the sheer memories and thoughts that the lifestream contains.

● MAKO REACTORS : machines built to extract mako. areas near reactors tend to be devoid of life and barren as a result of the reactors slowly draining the lifestream from the area. outside of the city of midgar itself, mako reactors are typically built in remote, backwater towns.

● MATERIA : crystalized mako. as the lifestream contains the memory of all things, materia is embed with the memories and wisdom of the ancients, natural magic users, which allows the user to cast different types of spells when equipped.

● THE BLACK MATERIA : a materia used to summon meteor, the ultimate destructive magic. due its danger, it’s locked away by the cetra in the temple of the ancients before eventually falling into sephiroth’s hands during the events of the game. the black materia is used by sephiroth to summon meteor in order to ‘injure’ the planet and absorb the energy of the lifestream once it tries to heal the wound.

● THE WHITE MATERIA : the black materia’s counterpart. the white materia summons holy, the ultimate white magic, that can cleanse the planet during a crisis and ensure the continuation of life - even if it means the destruction of humanity in the process. initially unaware of its importance, aeris treats the white materia as a keepsake from her mother and wears it tucked inside of her pink ribbon throughout the events of the game.

● MIDGAR : known as ‘the city of mako’, midgar is the capitol of shinra’s operations. the actual ‘city’ of midgar consists of giant plates that are divided into eight sectors which each being powered by their own mako reactor. the circular plate that makes up the city midgar sits on creates a literal divide between those who live in comfort in the city above and the poorer residents in the slums below. although the city has its own mayor, president shinra is considered to be the true power behind any decisions made in midgar.

● NEO MIDGAR : the new city president shinra hopes to build in the fabled promised land that will be powered by the endless supply of mako there. shinra uses propaganda and the promise of building a utopia to lure the general populace into supporting their cause.

● THE SLUMS : the home of those who live under the ‘rotten pizza’ known as the plate. originally eight separate towns, they each lost their individual names after shinra began the construction of midgar on top of them. each area of the slums is now just referred to as whatever sector of midgar it sits underneath, ex. sector seven vs the sector seven slums. crime and monsters are equal dangers within the slums and citizens are left to fend for themselves regarding both.

● NIBELHEIM INCIDENT : after what was supposed to be a routine check of a mako reactor in nibelheim, sephiroth discovers documents regarding project s and the origins of his birth in an abandoned shinra mansion within the town. believing that he’s the last cetra and that his birth mother is ‘jenova’, sephiroth experiences a mental breakdown that’s followed by him setting the town of nibelheim ablaze and murdering a majority of its residents as they try to escape. the incident ends with sephiroth being thrown into the lifestream after cloud strife tosses him directly into the mako at the bottom of nibelheim’s reactor in order to protect tifa lockhart and zack fair.

● SEPHIROTH ‘CLONES’ : the remaining survivors of the nibelheim incident that weren’t able to escape and captured by shinra to be experimented on by professor hojo. the subjects, all injected with mako and jenova cells, are either given numbers once they become mindless slaves to jenova’s will or are left to slowly die if they hold onto their sense of self. after being kept in mako tanks for nearly five years, zack is able to escape along with cloud - although the latter is left in a comatose-like state throughout their escape.

● REUNION THEORY : a theory proposed by hojo regarding the nature of jenova cells. it’s theorized that the cells will always seek to be ‘reunited’ when separated from the main body and that they can influence the mind of any person or creature its been injected inside to achieve that. sephiroth uses this ability to influence cloud’s actions throughout the game.

● SHINRA INC. : fully known as the shinra electric power company, shinra is a mega-corporation that’s the dominant political and economic power on the planet. originally a weapons manufacturer, the company greatly expanded over the years due to their financial gains after discovering the use of mako as an energy source. many, if not all, of the problems in the game are a direct result of shinra’s actions - even if the consequences are not seen until decades later.

● WUTAI WAR : a war sparked between shinra and the nation of wutai after the latter refused to have a mako reactor built in their region. the war would last presumably close to a decade, both sides taking heavy casualties before wutai surrenders and bans the use of materia as a sign of their defeat. with wutai being the last nation to fall to shinra and sephiroth emerging as a global war hero during the war, many travel to midgar and enlist in its military in hopes of becoming a first class SOLDIER. despite their loss, wutai still plots against shinra and is an active supporter of avalanche.

#❀ . ━ ❛ blood of the ancients ❪ headcanon ❫ .#long post //

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treatian · 3 years

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The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes

Chapter 18: From Then to Now

The picture was still tucked into his pocket by the time he got home. He'd thought to throw it away at the shop but hadn't been able to bring himself to. It had only dawned on him as he drove home that crude as the image was, it was the only picture he really had of his Belle, and maybe it was the Seer, or maybe it was just a feeling inside, but he had the sense he needed to hold onto it. At least until he remembered to get a camera from the shop and take a few pictures. Nothing fancy, just small photographs he could hold onto and cherish when she was gone. He wanted images that captured her not as her father knew her, but as he knew her, as he wanted to remember her…like she was now.

When he got home, he half expected her to run down the stairs or emerge from the kitchen, to throw her arms around him so he'd get a whiff of cleaning solution again. Instead, the house was quiet, and he turned to find her in the family room, laying out on the couch a book in her hands. She was dressed but still so tantalizing he had to swallow hard to remember she was not a dream or a fantasy. Her skirt was short, her legs laid out perfectly, leaving almost nothing to the imagination as her chest rose and fell as she glanced up at him and smiled. And her smile…gods! Was the sun even shinning? Was the earth spinning? A smile like that could make a man forget everything, including his own name. Yes, if he had a camera, he would have taken a picture of this moment and saved it for all his life.

But then the room darkened. Or maybe it was just the fact that her smile disappeared that made him feel that way. Bright as she made him feel when she smiled, that was how dull he felt when it went away, and she let out a sigh. She dropped her book onto her chest before rubbing her forehead as if it hurt and his own heart set to racing then. Her head…a headache? He hadn't taught her about medicine here yet. Was she injured, or was the withdraw from her previous medications causing a problem?

"Belle, what's wrong?" he demanded, unsure about when he'd moved into the room.

But then she laughed, a chuckle that sounded perhaps a bit crazed as she shook her head and muttered "Nothing" before pulling herself up and marking her place in her book with a marker he hadn't even known was in the house. Laughter and the ability to have the sense to mark her page…those weren't indications of pain. So then, what had spoiled her smile?

"I found my favorite book, and I've been reading all afternoon," she explained, waving it in the air. "But I lost track of time. I haven't made dinner yet."

This woman…

In the past five seconds, he'd gone from panic that she was hurt, to joy that she'd found something to occupy her time, to irritation that she felt guilty over not having dinner ready for him on the table when he returned. She had the ability to make him experience every feeling on the spectrum of human emotion, and sometimes he forgot that not all those feelings were happiness and sunshine.

"You know that's not a requirement anymore," he muttered with a heavy sigh.

"Yes, I know," she snapped back in the same tone they'd taken with each other over the subject earlier that day. "But I refuse to sit here all day and do nothing, especially when I need the practice! I am perfectly capable of making meals."

Fine! Fine. He wanted to argue with her, to insist that she wasn't a servant, that if reading her book all day made her happy, then that's what she should do. But he knew that tone. She wasn't going to change her position. Neither was he, frankly, but they'd already argued about it once that day. So perhaps they should try and keep it to once a day, at least until he could find some other way to occupy her that didn't involve taking her to town or taking her to bed…though he certainly would have been happy to do the latter.

"Which book?" he asked, managing a smirk as he tried not to look at her legs. He was glad, truly, that women were so liberated in this realm. Normally he didn't notice such things, but with her…he really needed to use his magic to get her some longer skirts, at least until this honeymooning phase of their relationship wore off.

"La Belle et La Bete," she answered as he grabbed the book out of her hands and sat next to her on the sofa. He flipped it over a few times in his hands. It felt familiar. It even looked and smelled familiar, like her library at the castle. It was probably one of the things she'd found that belonged to her in his own house, and he'd never even noticed it.

"That's my favorite part, where she meets prince charming," she explained when he opened it up to the place she'd marked. "But she won't discover that it's him until chapter three."

He didn't have to fake a smile anymore. Suddenly he was genuinely amused. He remembered this book. She'd favorited it as well as Her Handsome Hero in the castle, and he'd read them both to get an understanding of her. He remembered this one because when she'd first introduced it to him, she'd mentioned the girl had her name. Now he saw it with new eyes, new understanding. All their lives, everything they'd said and done in their previous realm, they were stories here-fairy tales. Her tale was Beauty and the Beast, and he was amused at the thought that if she was Belle, the beauty from the tale, then that made him…

"What?" she demanded.

He shook his head. It was a silly idea, especially considering the way their story had ended. Some Prince he'd turned out to be. "You know that everyone outside of Storybrooke thinks this woman is you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, um, I'm pretty sure that Belle wouldn't forget to make dinner. Actually, I'm pretty sure she would never make dinner or do any other chores. I didn't fall in love with a prince or a monster. And it would have taken me more than three chapters time to realize I loved you."

I love you. Those words were never going to get old. They were also never going to get any more believable than they had been that first dreadful time she'd kissed him, and yet…

If his curse had broken, and it had, then it meant the love was true. He had proof that she loved him even if he couldn't understand how or why. He'd been awful to her in that time at the castle, a terrible beast indeed. How had she ever managed to love him? How had she ever realized she did?

He closed the book in his hands. "When did you?"

He hadn't meant to ask the question out loud, not of her. It was a mystery that he felt determined to answer one of these days, but it had never dawned on him to ask it out loud. He hoped he'd muttered it quietly enough that maybe she hadn't heard but then-

"On the road, with the Queen," she answered softly, like she was sorry or even embarrassed she had to give him that answer. He was sorry for her. How in the hell had Regina seen it before he had? How might their lives have been different if he hadn't been so blind, or if he'd been braver, or kinder or gentler…

"But I loved you long before I actually knew that I did!" she responded with an optimistic and teasing hint in her voice, as if she were tempting him to ask again. So, he put the book down on the freshly polished table in front of them and looked over at her again.

"When?"

He watched as she smiled, and her gaze got distant. He felt like he could see her thinking, see her remembering days of old when she'd been one way, and he'd been another. To him, it all seemed terrible. It seemed like she should hate him, scorn him, never utter special words that made him feel like he was glowing. But she smiled, and he knew that somehow, by some miracle, that wasn't how she saw it. What he wouldn't give to see it through her eyes and understand.

"A while…" she finally stated with a shrug.

"I thought you hated me for the longest time."

"I did," she admitted sadly. "But I never feared you. You tried to scare me, but I knew you would never hurt me. Well…I didn't know, I suppose, it was just an instinct, the same one that told me there was more to you. I knew it even when I hated you. I was just too consumed to act on it, not until Robin Hood…"

Ah, yes…that little act of rebellion. She seemed certain that he would never have hurt her, but thinking back on how angry he'd been when he discovered that…no. No, now that he really thought about it, he'd never had a thought to hurt her. He'd been angry. He'd wanted to scream and yell at her. He'd wanted to scare her as she'd suggested. But he'd never thought to hurt her. How had she known before he had?

"You know it's not like a light switch that you can throw on one moment and off the next. The knowledge of it is, I suppose. You know one minute what you didn't a minute before. But love, it's something that grows and builds over time. It's…layered," she sighed with a smile.

"Where have I heard that before?" he joked. He could still imagine the day he'd first heard it perfectly. Her dress, the look on her face when he'd given her the rose, the pain in his chest when he'd told her he never expected to see her again.

"What about you?" she asked, shifting herself so that she could be closer to him. "When did you start to love me?"

Well, if he'd known that he loved her, then things never would have gone as far as they had. But…she hadn't asked when he'd known. She'd asked when he'd started to love her. He sighed and closed his eyes as he thought back, back to a simpler time. Like paging backward through a book, he tried to find a time he hadn't thought or felt about her as he did now. Before their kiss, before Samuel, before Gideon, before the Queens of Darkness, before Robin Hood, before he'd taken her from her father…the first time he'd seen her in her bed when her father had summoned him to heal her. He couldn't remember not feeling something for her in all of those instances. He just hadn't been aware that what he was feeling, that the chords of curiosity that bound them together, might evolve and grow into this.

"I think I always did," he realized.

"Really?" she asked, sounding surprised and even excited. "Was it love at first sight?"

"When I first saw you…"

It might have been. He hated to admit it, to think that he the Dark One ever felt something as childish as "love at first sight," but that night he'd first seen her in her bed and known she was special, familiar even in her unfamiliarity…yes. That might have been love at work. He just hadn't known it! And he was fairly certain that given the potion he'd given her for her memories, she didn't know that moment existed either. She wasn't thinking about that night in her bedroom. She was thinking about when he'd come to claim her, in her father's war room.

She'd been a curiosity at first. He'd known she fit into his future somehow but hadn't known how and he'd been desperate to get her away from her father and fiancé to figure out how. But then he'd been struck by something more than her beauty. Her bravery, her fearlessness, her courage…they'd called to him somehow.

"When we first met, I admired you for standing up to your father and that oaf you were engaged to. I thought you were courageous for talking to me. I don't think you realized the moment I set foot in that room no one else wanted to be there. They were all afraid of me, and then there was you. This small, meek Princess, willing to talk when no one had called upon you. No one expected you to talk, much less take my deal. It was admirable and heroic beyond belief. I was intrigued. You caught my attention in a way no one else ever has."

His eyes were still closed, a memory of her in his mind in her yellow dress consuming him when he felt her shift closer and lace her fingers with his.

"What about when I dropped my chipped cup?"

He felt himself smile as he had on the night it happened. Once he'd gotten past the blush on her chest and caught himself drawn into her beauty, he'd resisted, or at least tried to resist getting pulled into her. And as for the cup…

"I was entertained. When you live as long as I have, you learn that most things are unimportant. To see someone so worried about breaking something as silly as a teacup was humorous.

"And I was just glad for the company in the beginning. You were right. I was just as lonely as you suspected, I imagine…maybe more. I just didn't know it."

"When I freed Robin Hood?"

"Oh no!" he tightened his fingers over her own as those thoughts threatened to invade again. He was still trying to figure that riddle out from earlier. He'd been so angry, so upset that he hadn't seen anything remarkable in her at that moment. She was lucky he hadn't thought to kill her. Though, maybe that was why. Maybe it was whatever he'd been feeling for her that had saved her.

"I was far too…upset with you to feel anything else."

"But you didn't hurt me," she insisted quickly. "You could have killed me, but you never raised more than your voice against me when others would have without a second thought."

Even the suggestion of such a thing, the reminder that Regina could have killed her, that the Queens of Darkness had raised more than their voice against her on his behalf…it made his chest tighten.

"The thought to harm you never crossed my mind."

"And you saved me from that terrible sheriff."

He had to bite his tongue to keep from snarling at that particular memory. It wasn't one he liked to remember because he knew he shouldn't have let that man live knowing what kind of a bastard he was. If he had known he'd loved Belle then…he wouldn't be on this earth now. In fact, it was probably only his thoughts of Belle, of getting her out of there safely and quickly, that he'd neglected to kill him. But he wasn't about to lay weight on her.

"I wouldn't say that I 'saved' you so much as put you in that situation, but…he was lucky. If I had known that I loved you then, he most certainly wouldn't be alive today. As it is, he should hope he never crosses my path again." Because if he did, he'd rectify that mistake.

"But you spared Robin Hood."

Yes. Yes, he had, but not because of her. At least not entirely because of her. He'd spared him because the Seer told him to. Because somehow that man was going to be important to Regina in a way he hadn't figured out yet, and he had to live. But disappointing as that had been, Belle had certainly brightened that moment, that loss of revenge in his life.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. She blushed as he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "And you embraced me like you didn't care who I was or what I had done. Like what I had tried to do was nothing. It was as if you saw me as more than the beast that I was."

"That's because I did," she whispered quietly. And it still amazed him to this day.

"I couldn't remember the last time someone had touched me that purposefully before, with heartfelt gratitude, certainly without being repulsed by my appearance alone. And I knew-"

"That you loved me?"

"That you were different," he corrected. He hadn't been on a path of love at that point, not to his knowledge, but he'd known he'd been dangerously close to something. "That you made me feel and think things I hadn't for a long time. Things I never had felt or thought before. I thought it was guilt and that I could get rid of it by giving you a library-"

"My library was a bribe!" she accused through a small laugh.

"Your library was created to make me feel better, or so I thought. But when I gave it to you and knew that you saw me clearer than I saw myself, I realized it was more than that. I had an unexplainable urge to make you happy. I'd never had that feeling before in my life. That should have been my first hint."

But it hadn't been. And what an idiot he'd been for that.

"Is that why you let me start going to the market after I asked?"

He nodded, recalling that conversation and what he'd felt when he'd told her "no" the first time all too easily. He hadn't been able to bear her broken heart. "The look on your face after I'd turned you down…watching you across my table, miserable as you were, it was too much for me to take. I didn't like saying 'no' to you, and when I knew that I couldn't say 'no' any more…I knew we'd become something more than what we were supposed to be."

She sighed, her smile growing now with each memory as if she'd been just as eager to get into his head as he was to get into hers. "Did you love me when I found that blue dress?"

The dress…the dress had been earlier than the market but after Robin Hood.

"Most certainly, I just didn't know it. And I was too stunned to even consider what I felt for you at that moment. I don't know if you realize how perfectly exquisite you looked in that plain dress. It suited you far better than your previous attire. You were…"

He didn't have words for how beautiful she'd been when he first saw her in it. He'd waited all afternoon for her to find that dress, he hadn't been able to keep his thoughts to himself when he thought of her wearing it, and when she finally had…she'd been stunning. She'd looked like she found herself. And he was embarrassed to admit that more than one of his nighttime fantasies had involved stripping her of it slowly, piece by piece…

"I thought I was going to die when those women kidnapped me…but you came! I was so worried you wouldn't-"

"No, there was never a chance of that," he assured her when her voice broke in terror. True, he'd tried to find a way to get around making the trade that he'd had to make for her, but she was always going to be okay. He was always going to make sure she was safe. "Even then, you had me…"

"Then you saved me when I fell off that ladder."

Oh, that moment. The first time the Seer had put images in his head of her in his future. That was it. That was the moment he'd began to fear that there might have been something there between them that needed to be contained or controlled. Oh, he hadn't thought of those images in years. Unable to see how they could possibly have been true when she'd been dead, he'd convinced himself that they were fantasies. He'd made her feel like a man, and he'd excused those images as hormones running amuck in his human body. If only he'd listened to the Seer, he might never have believed she'd died.

"I'd hardly say I saved you. You wouldn't have died, but you were lucky I was there. I suspected then," he admitted, trying to get that vision of her in white out of his head. "I suppose that was when I knew. I would have been devastated if something had happened to you, and I would have used any amount of magic, any means possible, to fix you. Then after I had to let you go to the market, after you brought that boy back and I saw you chase him away to keep me from a terrible fate…I knew.

"I didn't know if you did, but I knew we both cared for each other in a way that I couldn't allow. I knew you were more of a danger to me than some of my greatest enemies. I knew I had to send you away. If I was right and there was something there, I couldn't risk the connection growing any deeper, but it was too late. It took me a long time, I selfishly kept delaying the inevitable because I liked having you close, but I finally managed to dismiss you, thinking that would be the end of it.

"But I should have known better. I knew you better than that even then. Still, when you came back to me…" he placed a hand over his heart where he could feel it beating in excitement even now. Seeing her on the road to his castle that day would remain one of the happiest images he had in all his life. "My heart soared. It felt lighter than it had in centuries!"

She smiled when he reached out to touch her, to brush some of the hair that hung loosely over her face over her ear so he could touch her face. He had many memories, a lot of emotions surrounding those days in the castle, but if he wanted her to remember any of them through his eyes, it was this one.

"For the first time in my life, I forgot about why I couldn't let you come back, about why you were a risk. The sight of you coming back on the road when you didn't have to, when you could have just…"

She could have left. She could have gone away so easily, found a job, fallen in love, raised children. But, instead, she'd come back to him. She'd come back to him then just as she had now, and he couldn't have been happier if he tried.

Across the room, the clock chimed. She twitched a little and took a breath as if to say something, probably that they should eat. But before either of them could suggest it, she rose up on her knees, leaned forward, and kissed him.

And he was too worked up, too lost in old memories and regrets to let her go so easily after one kiss. He imagined it was all those years ago, imagined doing what he wished he'd done then. He let his fingers tangle into her hair, opened his mouth to slide his tongue over hers, and then gave a greedy tug forward to pull her closer.

She didn't resist. She barely even broke their embrace as she settled her weight over his lap and wound her arms around his neck to deepen the embrace. And it felt surreal, knowing how their tale had ended in the Enchanted Forest, that it would be in this place now; that he'd be the one to keep her safe, to provide a place to escape, that she'd let him kiss her and touch her and make love to her as he did. But here they were. Together again. He'd be damned if he ever let anything happen to her again.

They both pulled away practically at the same time, and after meeting her eyes once, she drew him in to put his nose into her neck so she could hold him. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

He'd be damned if he ever let anything happen to her…but he'd also be damned if he didn't tell her every day, every moment of their lives, what he should have told her all those years ago.

"I love you," he muttered back. "I love you so much more than I ever thought possible."

Finally, after what felt like too long and yet too soon at the same time, she released him. She placed a couple of swift chaste kisses against his lips, then smiled. "Dinner?"

"Dinner," he nodded.

When she moved off of him, she reached back for his hand, and they moved off to the kitchen together. All things considered, he couldn't think of a better way to spend his evening than being wherever she was.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #mr. Gold #Belle #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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b-else-writes · 3 years

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the tiger shark and the sun

New chapter posted for my Star Wars/Avatar the Last Airbender-RebelCaptain fusion AU! Feat: Jyn calls Obi Wan an old fart, Jyn tells Luke and Leia to stop being melodramatic about becoming evil, dragons, and me ranting about the “evil sexy matriarchy” fantasy trope.

Read on AO3 | Read from start

Pairings: Jyn/Cassian, minor Han/Leia and Baze/Chirrut, random minor background pairings

Rating: T

Summary: Star Wars/Avatar the Last Airbender fusion AU. The Fire Nation, under Fire Lord Palpatine and Lord Vader, has been at War with the world for the last twenty years. When Jyn Erso lands on his doorstep the day Cassian, last southern waterbender, is assigned to protect the Avatar, she seems just another obstacle in ending the War. An obstacle he would willingly remove. For exiled firebender Jyn, the Avatar is her last way home - and to her hostaged father, never mind her own conscience. But as their paths keep crossing, and the Avatar needs all help in saving the world, Jyn and Cassian find they are more alike than they ever thought possible.

Snippet under the cut!

Jyn woke with a start, rapidly trying to figure out where she was. She was lying on a straw mattress in a stone room. The early morning light filtered in through a low window. On the ceiling were carvings of circling sky bisons.

Slowly, her memory returned. Jyn sat up, taking in the small room in Hynestia, the Western Air City. Cassian and Kay were nowhere in sight. He had removed her bracers and her boots sometime after she’d fallen asleep, and left then. But there was a dent on the mattress from where he’d been. She could still smell him – and his horrible lizard – and she gave herself a moment to imagine a world where someone like her…

She hastily shoved the thought aside. Another, more pressing concern than her unrequited feelings had emerged. She was supposed to teach. Jyn buckled on her bracers and slid her boots on quickly. She combed her fingers through her hair, repining the bun, and set about finding Enfys.

It took her a surprisingly short time to get around: the entire city seemed to have been developed and built for easy accessibility, with lifts, railings, and maps everywhere. Enfys, after she’d shown Jyn her room, had said she was going to the temple. Jyn found her and Luke curled up on the temple floor, fast asleep.

Jyn crouched and poked her. “Wake up!” she hissed.

Enfys groaned, red braids falling in her face. “Jyn, it’s only dawn…”

“Enfys, I need your help.” Luke made a noise but continued to snore. Jyn pursed her lips. “I’ll make you those wheat pancakes with dates and honey you love,” she said in her sweetest voice.

Enfys cracked one eye open. “We don’t have honey or dates.”

“I brought a jar as a peace offering,” she admitted. There was a pause. With a groan, Enfys extricated herself from Luke’s arms, pulling her cape on. Luke made a little grumble and rolled over. Jyn refrained from commenting as Enfys trailed after her to the central atrium. Enfys was perfectly liable to turn it right back on her.

As Jyn got the ingredients out from her satchel on the war balloon, Enfys asked, “So, what’s the issue?”

Swallowing her pride, “How did you teach the twins?”

There was another long pause. “You didn’t think this through at all, did you?” Enfys said, covering her mouth with her hand. Jyn glared. “I’m not laughing, I’m not!”

“I hate you,” Jyn said, swatting the date jar away from Enfys’ grip.

“No, you don’t,” Enfys said happily, dipping one finger in the honey jar and licking it. Jyn crouched to light the cookfire. It took a moment for the flame to appear on her fingertips. She frowned, but Enfys continued to speak, refocusing her attention. “Well, for me it was simple – I just followed how I was taught by my mother and aunts and elders. I already had a lesson plan ingrained in me.”

Jyn shook her head, feeling her pulse race, though it had been a decade since Master Jorus had backhanded her to perform better. “That…is not going to work.”

Enfys’ face clouded over. She stood from her perch and began to help Jyn, brushing her hands against hers. “Well, then, start simple. Like how to produce fire. And go from there. Basic punches and blocks, you do that a lot, don’t you?”

“They’re called fire fists.”

“My mistake,” Enfys said, her eyes sparkling with mirth, “Fire fists and fire kicks and fiery-ness and aallll that.”

Jyn bit back a smile, extending the plate with honey-drizzled wheat pancakes. “For her highness, the Queen of Mon Cala.”

Enfys immediately grabbed it, digging in with a moan of delight. “One of the few things from the Fire Nation worth saving,” she said, her mouth full of food.

“What’s the rest?”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” Enfys said easily, making Jyn grin. As Baze and Chirrut came in, Enfys added, “Just remember to be patient.”

“I am a beacon of patience.”

Enfys laughed. “I meant with yourself, Jyn. You’re doing something new and difficult. So be kind to yourself as you figure it out.”

She sighed, resting her head against her best friend’s shoulder. “And yet you won’t share your portion with me?” she asked, fighting down her own rising panic.

“You’re impossible,” Enfys laughed, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Now eat up for your first big lesson, Master Jyn.”

Jyn stretched and popped out her muscles. She, Luke, and Leia stood in a beautiful courtyard of cream and white clay and wood. She imagined it must have been a communal space when Hynestia had still housed Air Nomads. She didn’t like dwelling on that too long. She could still feel…something clinging to the place. Fire child, they whispered, stroking her face and hair, this is what your people did.

She would have preferred pure hatred, but she felt that was not their way. It would have been easier than guilt. Especially when she saw the sadness in Enfys’ eyes.

Jyn focused back on the twins. Both wore expressions of trepidation, Leia in particular throwing her suspicious looks. Jyn tried not to take it too personally. “Have either of you ever firebent before?”

They exchanged a look. “Once,” Luke said, shifting a little, “We… we burnt Cassian by accident.”

Multiple statements immediately became clear in Jyn’s head. She pushed aside her own empathy for Cassian – and her instinctive urge to get angry on his behalf. Cassian held no grudge about it. Patiently, she said, “Most firebenders accidentally burn themselves or others when they’re starting out as children. It’s…normal.

“Alright then, let’s see what fire you can produce,” she said, folding her hands behind her back. Keep patient. Don’t be like Master Jorus. Don’t be what the Air Nomads know you could be. The summer heat touched the scars on her arms.

Exchanging another uneasy glance, the twins sank into a low hot-squat, good form, and punched.

A puff of smoke came out.

“That’s it?” Leia glared. Jyn resisted the very powerful urge to groan. “Let me demonstrate,” she said. Her muscle memory was so honed that Jyn didn’t even need to think. She sank and punched, sleeves billowing.

She produced a tiny gasp of flame.

Leia began clapping. Jyn scowled. “Don’t patronize, you know what it’s supposed to look like,” she grumbled. Jyn punched again. She slid into various forms, again and again. Only wisps of flame. “What in the…”

“Maybe you were never as good as you thought you were,” Leia said, grinning slightly.

“Oh, you’re hilarious,” Jyn snapped, trying in vain to produce more flame.

“Maybe it’s the altitude?” Luke suggested, though he didn’t look convinced. Jyn stared at her hands. Her inner flame felt cold and dull in her chest, despite the sunlight pouring over her skin. Sól, give me power, she thought, but none came.

Her firebending was gone. Somewhere, she could feel Master Jorus laughing.

The group sat around the cookfire, eating and chatting. The summer days were long, Chirrut knew. He could still feel heat despite the dinner hour. Baze had passed him his bowl, their fingers brushing. He smiled, gripping Baze’s fingers momentarily and grounding them both.

He heard Jyn clear her throat to speak. “There’s…a problem. I’ve lost my firebending. Well, not lost…but it’s weaker now and I can’t figure it.”

Chirrut considered as he munched. Bending was inherently spiritual, something that many had now forgotten, preferring to use as a blunt instrument. Jyn had never struck him before as someone who wanted to look within herself.

“Maybe it’s because you changed sides,” Cassian spoke up. Chirrut’s seismic sense could feel Jyn immediately perk up and orient towards him. Oh, young love. “Your firebending used to come from anger and desperation. Now you have none.”

“So, what? We piss Erso off?” Han asked, poking Erso with his sword butt.

Jyn kicked him in the shin. “Cut that out! It’s not an option.”

“What you need is a new source,” Chirrut said. “And by that, I mean an old one. The original. For earthbending, the first earthbenders were the badgermoles. When I was young, I ran away and hid in a cave. A blind child was better off gone.”

He still remembered the pain and fear as he had fled Jedha’s orphanage, stumbling through the crowds of people out into the scorching, shifting ground he had learnt was sand. Finding his way into the Catacombs. Surrounding by the dead, as he imagined he would soon become.

The Spirits had other plans. There had been a great crunch of rock, and a soft, wet snout had nosed him. They had recognized him as one of their own. “The badgermoles are also born blind. I learnt earthbending as an extension of my senses. Earthbending is not a martial art – it is a way of interacting and moving through the world, and that is the form I taught Luke and Leia.”

The wonder he had felt as he began to feel the world expanding outwards beneath his palms and feet. The grubs and creatures that lurked beneath the desert sand. The hardy plants that nourished from the earth. The secret oases. The possibilities that had exploded to him. His only regret was that it was no help to non-benders and other benders, but Chirrut was nothing if not stubborn. He had tried to help them too, as a Guardian of the Whills.

“Firebending isn’t like that,” Jyn said quietly, standing up and pacing.

“But surely you must know who the original firebenders were,” Enfys said, “I learnt from my Tribe, but the first airbenders were the sky bison. That’s influenced our bending to use gliders to fly, to our culture!”

Jyn walked over to Chirrut. He felt the same turmoil of his childhood self, in her. “It won’t work. The first firebenders were the dragons, and they’re extinct. There’s no other way.”

Baze squeezed Jyn’s hand. “There is always another way.”

Jyn was silent for a moment. When she spoke, he felt the vibrations. There is something she is concealing. “We’re not far from the island of Dathomir. The witches of Dathomir were said to be the first to learn firebending from the Dragons. They were killed off thousands of years ago. You still hear stories, but there’s no proof their society still exists. We might find something. Otherwise…”

“Sometimes the shadows of the past can be felt by the present,” Chirrut said. Several of the group shifted uncomfortably.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Luke said, “Han, can we borrow the Falcon?”

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#rebelcaptain #rogue one #jyn x erso #star wars #jyn erso #cassian andor #atla #au: atla #zutara #my fic

18 notes · View notes

beggingwolf · 3 years

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omg I would love for you to break down that scene from TKK where sid goes into heat unexpectedly and geno rescues him from the Czech alphas!! (yes I have read and reread it a million times bc it is absolutely delicious.) (also this is jes @ticklefighthockey - can’t send from my hockey sideblog!)

hi jes!! thank you so much for asking!! I love that scene too

this is, uh, a behemoth. be warned:

He’s being led on a tour of the rink, after the Russians have embarrassingly lost to Finland and before the Canadians are set to battle with the Czechs, when Zhenya stumbles upon him.

I enjoy, in retrospect, how Zhenya and Sid’s emotional states are so different coming into this interaction. Even going back further than this specific day, Zhenya-in-Helsinki is bored and understimulated and out of his area of expertise and his alphaness is chafing at him. Meanwhile, Sid is overstimulated and anxious and fearful and in denial about/trying to hide his omeganess. Their designations are really on display here: Zhenya is brashly an alpha, Sid is shamefully an omega, and I Just Think That’s Delicious.

It’s a flash, something deep and slumbering in his brain that alights like gas touched by a flame. One moment he’s listening to a very calm scout for the Superleague talk to him about Ovechkin and the potential a future Team Russia has, and the next there are yells echoing off the hallway’s walls and a figure racing towards them. A hook nestles into Zhenya’s intestines and his long leg moves, jerked along with the rest of him as he trips the running blur.

The omega falls; Zhenya reaches for them, and before Zhenya can stop himself, his big hand grabs the omega by the back of their neck. The omega seizes up, and Zhenya can’t breathe as his grip tightens and then shakes.

This is the, like, one part of the fic where Zhenya’s alphaness overwhelms him in the same way Sid’s omeganess overwhelms him. Sid is repeatedly at the mercy of his biology in the fic, and though he works to overcome it (and eventually settle into it), Zhenya doesn’t share that struggle—except for in this moment. I like how it equalizes them for a fraction of a second. Immediately after, the power imbalance flares to life and they’re on unequal ground, but for this moment, they’re both at the mercy of their bodies. It’s a huge aspect of what I enjoy about a/b/o.

Sid likes Helsinki.

I love this jump cut, personally. I think it’s cheeky of me and fun and, after hooking the reader with Zhenya’s side of things, allows me to do what I enjoy most: babble on about juniors!Sid. Let’s fast forward to where the narrative catches up with Zhenya’s POV:

Sid is last out of the showers after practice. He doesn’t normally linger, but he had spent so long staring at how Carter’s traps and deltoids flexed as he washed his hair that he stalled and told everyone he’d catch up.

Sid’s discomfort with his designation almost takes precedence over his relationship with his sexuality in TKK. They’re inextricably intertwined, but Sid really spends more time thinking about being an omega than he does fantasizing about alphas—perhaps largely in part due to his first ~meaningful~ physical interaction with alphas ends up being a near-assault followed by a formative, if unhealthy, scruffing at the hands of Zhenya. I hope I put in enough to show that Sid is eyeing the alphas around him with intent and that it’s disrupting his routines. Builds the tension. Primes us for what’s about to happen.

“Get out of there soon, Crosby, the Czechs are going to need the locker room in ten!” Durocher had called out to him, and Sid had made a sound of acknowledgement.

He’s not proud to jerk off in the empty communal showers. Once he’s come, he desperately tries to forget the fantasy of being shoved up against the cold tile, the slickness between his thighs being put to good use. His cheeks are flaming red and he’s mortified at himself as he washes the evidence off of his hands. In a rush he towels himself off and gets dressed in his team sweats, grabbing his bag of gear and jogging for the doors.

Yeah I’d be mortified too, Sid.

He opens the door and runs face-first into a chest.

He chokes on his own spit as he smells it, the sharp, overwhelming scent of alphas, plural, and looks up at the huge Czech defensemen that he’s spent two afternoons watching tape on.

The big one he ran into looks at Sid with vibrant blue eyes, and Sid stills as he watches the guy’s nostrils flare with a big intake of breath.

Sid forgot the cologne.

“Crosby,” the alpha says, his accent strangely shaping Sid’s name. Sid heard plenty of Czech at the U18 tourney, when Canada had gone down against the Czech team and the players and their fans had drunkenly gathered outside of the Canadian locker room to howl shit at them until the Canadians muscled their way out.

He’s never heard anything like the way this enormous alpha drawls his name, and his eyes go wide.

The alpha next to the blue-eyed one, a beefy blond guy that has a huge nose, takes a step towards Sid and says something. Sid can’t understand the words, but the message behind them is clearer than fresh ice in the winter, and all Sid can think is that he’s never been in this much danger.

Some disgusting, traitorous part of him whispers in his ear that maybe he’d like it if he stayed and listened to what they had to say.

Sid runs.

Sid’s sexual immaturity is really on display here. I don’t say anything about what the alphas smell like, and though Sid catalogues what the alphas look like (this was mostly so I could make them distinct in their actions), none of it is appreciative.

He’s a prey animal realizing he’s in danger, and regardless of his fantasies and recent jerk-off session, he has almost no desire to “be an omega” in this moment… except for the part of himself he hates, the part of himself he isn’t at ease with yet. EVEN THEN, he’s not interested in, like, being thrown to the ground and Taken in the biblical sense, but he’s interested in “if he stayed and listened to what they had to say.”

It’s that teasing at wanting something, that teenage impulse to want to explore what you’re feeling but not willing to go all the way because you’re afraid and unsure and still young! But his prey instinct wins out (smartly).

He hates himself for it; he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t run from boys who are bigger than him, but he knows as deeply and intrinsically as he knows his own name that the instant one of the Czech alphas gets their hands around his neck, he’s done for.

That first line could be interpreted 2 ways before you get past the semi-colon: does he hate himself for running because he wants the Czechs? No; it’s because he wants to fight. Sid’s incorrectly performing being an omega here in multiple senses: he’s running from alphas and wanting to avoid his heat, and he’s also wanting to fight them.

He drops low, bending his legs so he can ram his shoulder into the blue-eyed one’s stomach, shoving him back just enough so Sid can elbow past the blond alpha and push through. He feels the blond reach for him, and a shout builds in his throat as the boy’s big hand grazes Sid’s wrist, nearly gripping him before Sid can twist out of the way.

He takes a step before the strap across his body gets yanked back, and Sid chokes as it digs into his Adam’s apple. The Czechs are gripping onto his hockey bag, and Sid only hesitates long enough for a hand to snake up and reach for his damp hair before he grits his teeth and slips out from under the strap of his bag and leaves it behind him, running in his untied sneakers down the hall.

The mention of his Adam’s apple draws attention to Sid’s age, I feel. It shows he’s physically mature but BARELY, because pointing it out draws attention to it in a conspicuous way. Then Sid being willing to ditch his hockey gear as he sprints—well, it shows (for once) he has his priorities straight. He tried to keep his omeganess hidden for the sake of hockey. Now he has to abandon hockey to keep himself safe.

The Czechs yell, their voices loud and reverberating off of the walls in a way that feels like it can physically pummel Sid. He still has the scent of them in his nose, and he can feel his untrustworthy body responding. He runs blindly, as fast as he can.

HERE we get some sense that the alphas are having a physical impact on Sid. And yet it’s not eroticized at all. It’s made violent and scary and he’s stripped of his own senses.

He rounds a corner and sprints, not remembering which way is which in the Helsinki rink. Sid barrels towards two figures in the hall, and his overwhelmed senses can tell that one of them is an alpha, the tall one, the dark one, and he sucks in one last desperate breath to hold so he can sprint past, so he can just get away from the heady scent and go somewhere safe.

Tall and dark, eh, Sidney? Our first hint of romantic descriptors.

The tall alpha moves faster than lightning, faster than a goalie adjusting to block a shot, and Sid feels an ankle connect with his shin and he panics.

Sid makes it about hockey. Ok bud sure you do you. (But like for real this represents a connection back to something Sid knows, something that is safe[...ish] for Sid, something that he loves).

He tripped him. The alpha tripped him, and maybe he’s in on it, and maybe Sid’s mom was right to be paranoid for all these years, and Sid’s hands come up to brace for the impact of the carpet when a hand as big as the span of his entire neck comes down on the back of it.

Everything stops.

Anxious stream-of-consciousness interrupted by an abrupt two-word sentence? Slap me silly with cliches, eh? But, hey, if it works...

The hand is enormous, the long, powerful fingers digging into the sides of Sid’s throat, and Sid’s jaw opens in something he hopes is a scream but by the way heat curls in his gut, he knows it’s something much, much worse.

Okay so HEREEEE we get yanked closer, again, to the erotic. The focus on hands (#TheFemaleGaze) as something salacious, enormous and long and powerful [hm. Freud is calling]... and even though Sid is terrified and refusing to put a specific name to what other emotion he’s feeling, his body betrays him yet again and we then fully slip into The Erotic with a heat—a heat—curling in his gut.

The hand yanks him up, pulling him away from the floor, and Sid fights against the instinct to go limp with everything he has; his trained muscles seize up instead, and Sid has never been so grateful to be an athlete. He balls his fists, sliding his foot on the ground to try and right himself, and then his world ends when the alpha scruffs him.

Sid resorts to athleticism (his only other use for his body before Being An Omega fucked it up, according to him) in order to fight back. And then the line “and then his world ends” hits. Melodramatic, sure, but he’s 16.

And moreover, objectively, the world Sid knew before this interaction is indeed over for him. Zhenya later thinks in the fic that alphas and omegas feel fated, like something out of a fairytale, and that line of fate—that this was inevitable, that once Sid and Zhenya met, Sid would be lost to “normalcy,” does ring true by the time the fic ends.

The alpha gives Sid a firm shake, just from the hand gripping his neck. Sid feels it down to his bones, reverberating through him harder than any check or hit he’s ever taken. Sid feels like he did when he was in 7th grade and one of his buddies tripped him while playing street hockey. This feels like when Sid’s head hit the blacktop; he’s not sure where all his limbs are anymore, and when he collapses, the alpha catches him.

This whole first chapter is just a major tease in regards to maturity, puberty, sexual awakenings, etc.

Sid acknowledged his physical response to alphas a few paragraphs ago, but now we’re back to Sid: The Child, to his middle-school self who is hurt and injured and vulnerable. By scruffing him, Zhenya ironically reverts him back to his child self; had Zhenya not scruffed him, who knows what Sid might have done or said to an alpha he was attracted to while he slips into heat?

By scruffing Sid—by making him no longer a viable partner [according to Zhenya’s instincts/hindbrain]—Zhenya actually keeps Sid safe here without even realizing it.

Sid lets out a sigh that sounds pleased, and he wants to heave instead.

And oop, we’re back! Tug and pull, back and forth. Will-they-won’t-they. Fun tension. The confusion of sexuality. Now that Sid is safe (even if he doesn’t know it), he can slip back into that pleasure state, even as he’s repulsed by it.

The alpha says something. His voice is deep and rich. Sid’s head lolls back so he can catch a glimpse.

He was right about the alpha being tall. His eyes go up and up to see the guy’s face. He’s older than Sid, but maybe he’s a player here. He could be 19, Sid hazily reasons to himself. His wide mouth is open in a concerned, surprised expression, and Sid’s eyes catch on how pink his lips are. He wonders how those lips would feel on his skin, but then his gaze is tugged upwards as the alpha’s eyebrows furrow over deep-set, dark eyes.

He’s handsome, and Sid is in his arms, utterly limp.

This part makes me smile even now while reading it :) Sid’s hazily like “Uhhh he could be my age right? Yeah it can definitely be acceptable to want this guy. Totally. Also he can totally play hockey. A dreamboat… Just For Me. Look at those lips. Also I’m totally helpless right now and for the FIRST time instead of terrified I am the human embodiment of the 👀 emoji.”

The alpha asks something of Sid, and Sid just stares up at him, dazed. He doesn’t know the language; it isn’t Czech. Maybe… Russian?

The hand still around his neck flexes, and Sid’s lips part. The alpha’s dark gaze drops to them, and Sid’s frightened by the emotion that blooms in his chest, a pride that’s twined with the adrenaline of his run. He can taste the alpha’s scent on his tongue, and it’s woodsy and deep and it makes Sid think of sex. He can feel his tongue poke at his lower lip, and the fingers around his neck tighten.

Then the noises from down the hall get louder, and Sid can’t move to look, but the alpha’s head jerks up. Sid watches as the alpha’s lips curl back and he snarls loudly at the Czechs.

Sid can smell them, the way their scents slide from hunter to hunted. There are rude, ineffective words spat at Sid before they retreat. He doesn’t understand a whiff of it, though, and all he can do is watch the alpha clinging to him. The alpha bares his teeth at the Czechs even as they scamper away. Sid can see the alpha’s teeth aren’t fully straight, but they’re sharp and a swooping sensation bottoms out in Sid’s gut.

It’s nothing like Parise’s hit, nothing like Tambellini’s command to leave the ball alone. Sid stares up at his alpha and he knows that if this guy took him to the ground, Sid would roll over without a second thought.

Fear rages through him again, even as his body hangs still from the scruffing.

Now we’re just really in the sauce, eh? We’ve fully entered into The Erotic and though Sid has that taste of fear in his chest, it’s not fear of alphas. It’s not fear of Zhenya.

It’s fear of himself. He isn’t scared at all of what Zhenya could do to him; he’s scared of what he wants (or what his body wants? He isn’t sure where that distinction is, because he’s been trying to divorce himself from his omega body since it started Making Problems).

Spicy! Delicious! I do, in fact, love it! His body is acting without his control (his tongue) but Sid is naming what he’s thinking of: sex. He hates himself over it. I am thoroughly enjoying myself!

The alpha looks back down at Sid, his lips coming together to cover his sharp teeth. He says something softly, glancing over Sid with obvious concern in his eyes. His grip loosens and his hand slides up into Sid’s wet hair to cradle his head instead.

“Crosby,” Sid can hear the other man, the beta next to his alpha— the alpha say in surprise, and Sid’s chest tightens.

“Crosby?” the alpha murmurs, squinting at Sid. He asks something else, and Sid still can’t get his throat to work, the scruffing clinging onto his voice box like a crushing fist.

The beta says something and the alpha grimaces, but he gently starts lowering Sid to the floor. Sid gasps in a breath, because no, not in the middle of a hallway, but the alpha just lays Sid down, bracing a careful hand on Sid’s shoulder, still cupping the back of his skull as he crouches down next to him.

“Crosby? Omega?” He hears the beta say in a thick Russian accent, and Sid’s eyes swivel to look at him.

“Help,” Sid finally begs, feeling weak and shameful.

Here we actually lose some of the erotic tension because

1. Zhenya looks at Sid with concern, not lust

2. His grip loosens on Sid, and

3. Zhenya puts Sid down not to have his way with him, but to make sure he’s okay.

The power dynamic is starting to shift; it isn’t so much about a/b/o as it is age right here. Zhenya is taking care of this kid, as he notes in the next section, and since Sid’s hangups over his immaturity will haunt him in the fic, his perspective sort of neuters Zhenya here because he thinks their ages will be a barrier to Sid getting Zhenya.

Also, another line I love: “no, not in the middle of a hallway,” because it’s SUCH a major slip on Sid’s part. His problem isn’t that he thinks Zhenya is about to go to town on him; it’s that they’re in a hallway and he has standards. (Or, rather, reasonable concerns over privacy, safety, and general comfort).

“Who is Crosby?” Zhenya asks as he stares down at the omega he’s cradling.

He’s about to be a very big thorn in your side for the next forever, Zhenya.

The omega is so young. He looks half-baked, especially with his head held at such an angle, making his chin disappear into his neck. His face is still round, and he has curly hair that hangs boyishly into his eyes. Those huge eyes are stunned and Zhenya can see the panic in them.

We’re still in that de-sexed space; readers can think “Hmm okay so maybe Sid was right, that Zhenya doesn’t really want-”

Zhenya closes his mouth and tries to take in less of the omega’s scent. It’s hot and jabs at Zhenya’s brain like a spice; Zhenya can smell the slick on him and swallows down the saliva flooding his mouth.

“Oh.”

Yep. Still wants ‘im. Has a moral compass to stop himself about it. Barely.

Also, Zhenya eats a fair amount of food in this fic—shitty food, like his McDonalds meal and bad American coffee, and good food, like the ribs and coco lardo in Moscow and the pelmeni and soup with his mother. Sid’s scent is like a spice to him—this appeals to his emotional senses, not just his physical ones.

“This is Crosby,” the Superleague scout says, dumbfounded. “He plays for Canada, he’s an omega—”

“No shit,” Zhenya grunts, and he can’t stop his thumb from stroking across the kid’s shoulder where Zhenya is pinning him down, the thin Team Canada shirt shifting under his touch. “Crosby, who’s here with you?”

Oops, crack in the facade there, Zhenya. Watch your hands. Still, it’s not made clear if this is a gesture meant to be comforting (to Sid) or selfish (for Zhenya). Ambiguity!

The omega, Crosby, gapes up at Zhenya, and Zhenya curses himself for scruffing him.

He hadn’t meant to; he’s only scruffed an omega once, and it was in a very different context, where a buxom omega named Svetlana had wanted Zhenya to lay her out and make her limp with it in bed. Crosby certainly hadn’t asked, but Zhenya had felt the panic in Crosby like a guillotine rising over his head and had needed to stop it.

More cracks. Relating it to sex with Svetlana and then pulling himself back by a VERY sharp image of a guillotine. Feeling like you need to cut something off, there, Zhenya?

His hindbrain had made the decision for him.

Zhenya thinks about alphaness in terms of his hindbrain—a hidden prey drive he’s got in his head, an old evolutionary instinct. Part of him, but... not all of him.

It’s very distinct from Sid, who refuses to even consider his omeganess as something other than, like, a personal failure and/or a physical impediment that’s fucking with him. When his omeganess comes for him, it takes him over.

Zhenya THINKS about his alphaness as divorced from himself to justify his actions; Sid ACTUALLY divorces his omeganess from himself as a survival instinct (until it stops working, and then until he figures out it’s more advantageous to work with it).

Crosby’s pulse still rabbits away. Zhenya swears he can feel it through Crosby’s scalp, and he says softly, “It’s okay, Crosby, I’m here to help you. I’ll help you.”

Rabbit :) Prey animal. Zhenya touching him carefully, not like a wolf chewing on its prey, but like a human soothing a scared animal.

He hears the Superleague scout say something in ugly English, and Zhenya frowns, wishing he had spent any time at all working on English like Viktor had asked him to. He only knows scraps he’d picked up from the ridiculous Americans the Magnitogorskaya bratva worked with.

“He’s almost in heat,” he snaps at the scout. “Ask him about suppressants, does he have any?”

“His team should, they…” the scout starts, and he moves like he’s going to leave in search of the Canadians, but he hesitates.

Zhenya watches the scout’s eyes rove over Zhenya’s long, powerful frame bent over the crumpled omega beneath him.

“He’s a child,” Zhenya bites out, even as his body tells him he’s an omega. “I won’t do anything. Get help. Now.”

:) Spicy!

He puts real force behind the words, and even though Crosby doesn’t appear to know Russian, he shakes under Zhenya’s hold.

“Shh,” Zhenya murmurs, looking down at him. Those big amber eyes focus on Zhenya’s, and Zhenya’s hand on Crosby’s shoulder slides up to cup the side of his face.

“It’s okay,” Zhenya tells him, and he knows at least that in English. “Okay.”

Zhenya immediately comforting Sid even though he’s addressing the scout! We have not seen much of Zhenya being caring before this point; is this who Zhenya is? Is this what alphas do for omegas?

Truthfully it doesn’t matter because there’s no discord between Zhenya and his designation. He’s comfortable as an alpha. He is what he is, and no matter where it comes from, he comforts Sid in this moment.

Fuck the blonde women of Finland; Zhenya doesn’t want anything except the chubby-faced Canadian teenager he has laid out on the floor of a hockey rink, and since he can’t do anything about that, he needs to keep Crosby calm.

“You’re going into heat,” Zhenya tells him, knowing Crosby can’t understand. “You’ve done this before, yes? You’re old enough to know. It’ll be okay, we’ll get you suppressants, you’ll make it through. It’ll be just fine.”

Zhenya: “I will rationalize this. Yes. I can do that. Sure. Great. I cannot let myself YEARN. But I’m definitely going to give him command-sounding reassurances that definitely aren’t any alpha impulses leaking out of me.”

Zhenya’s eyebrows shoot up when Crosby moves a hand; it’s weak, but he manages to lift his arm enough to grip onto where Zhenya’s holding his face. It had taken Svetlana the better part of ten minutes to lift a finger, and he can see that Crosby, while young, is strong.

And, by the heat in his eyes, angry.

Zhenya grins at him, and he can feel Crosby’s pulse jump under his hands.

“Don’t be angry, kitten,” Zhenya croons at him, unable to help himself. “I kept you safe, didn’t I? I’ll get you back to wherever you belong, yes?”

Zhenya, you flirt. Also he’s like “Cool I’ll call him Crosby I’ll be professional and—oh wait he’s pissed off and cute about it haha hi Kitten :) hi :) I’ll take care of youuu :)”

Crosby recognizes the tone in his voice, if the way his eyes tighten is any indication. He opens his mouth to make a discontented sound that sends Zhenya into laughter.

“Come,” Zhenya tells him between giggles. “You’re fine, let’s go find your team.”

When he scoops Crosby up off of the ground and into his arms, Crosby makes a sound so undignified it makes Zhenya lean against the wall to catch his breath.

Honestly I’m not happy with the emotional tone here and had I not been writing 50k words in a fugue state and needing to publish them by fest time I think I would’ve changed this. But alas! Its imperfections make it unique… or whatever. Hopefully someone likes it.

Crosby is heavier than Zhenya expected; he’s dense, and Zhenya can glimpse how much of that density is dedicated to his ass. While Zhenya doesn’t lift weights with Metallurg anymore, he brawls enough to have very functional muscles. He can handle Crosby. He would like to handle him very, very much.

Yeah you do, Zhenya.

#careful everyone this is Very Long #anyways! i enjoy this scene too and this was fun!#ask game #😁#tkk notes

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teenslib · 3 years

Link

IT’S FINALLY DONE! Every year, the Rainbow Book List Committee has more books to review, because literature is slowing getting queerer, and children’s and YA lit are at the forefront of that change. This year, our committee of 13 people had to review nearly 500 eligible titles, and 130 (well, 129) were good enough and queer enough to make the list. There were so many terrific books that we got a special dispensation to create TWO Top Ten lists--the first time the committee has done so! The Top Tens are below, and please visit the link above for the full list.

I’m proud of our committee’s focus on diversity--along lines of race, ethnicity, queer identity, and even genre. At least half of the Top Ten Books for Young Readers and seven of the Top Ten for Teen Readers are about characters of color, and most of those were written by authors of color. We also tried to feature as many different letters of the alphabet soup as possible. I’ve noted the racial and LGBTQIA+ rep for the books that I’ve read.

Here are the Top Ten Books for Young Readers:

Ana on the Edge by Sass, A.J. Ages 8 to 12. Sports Fiction/Figure Skating. MC is nonbinary and Jewish-Chinese-American. Ana is a champion figure-skater. She hates her new princess-themed program, but how can she tell her mother that, when it cost so much money? And why does it bother her so much, anyway? When she finds the word ‘nonbinary,’ she realizes why the program doesn’t fit, but she still has a lot of work to do repairing relationships that have suffered in the meantime.

The Deep & Dark Blue by Smith, Niki. Ages 8 to 12. Fantasy. One of 2 MCs is a trans girl, all characters appear to be Southeast Asian. A pair of twins flee after a political coup that puts their lives at risk. They decide to disguise themselves as Hanna and Grayce, two girls living in the Communion of the Blue, an order of weaving women who spin magic like wool. What one twin doesn’t know is that, for the other, being Grayce isn’t a disguise. This is a beautiful story about self-discovery, acceptance, and affirmation.

Drawing on Walls: A Story of Keith Haring by Burgess, Matthew and Josh Cochran (Illustrator). Ages 6 to 14. Biography. MC is a white gay man. This colorful picture-book biography traces the life and art of Keith Haring.

The Every Body Book: LGBTQ+ Inclusive Guide for Kids about Sex, Gender, Bodies, and Families by Simon, Rachel E. and Noah Grigni (Illustrator). Ages 8 to 12. Nonfiction/Health. Various identities and races included. Filled with self-affirming information, The Every Body Book uses inclusive language, illustrations, and facts to cover a number of important topics for young people including consent, relationships, gender, sex, puberty, and hormones.

King and the Dragonflies by Callender, Kacen. Ages 8 to 12. Realistic Fiction. MC is a gay black boy, his best friend is a gay white boy. King’s family–especially his father–have strong opinions about what it means to be a Black man, and they don’t allow for being gay. But King admires his friend Sandy for escaping an abusive home and living his truth no matter what. If King comes out, too, can his father learn to change?

Magic Fish by Nguyen, Trung Le. Ages 12 and up. Realistic Fiction/Fantasy. MC is a gay Vietnamese-American boy. A young Vietnamese-American boy literally can’t find the words to tell his parents that he’s gay, but cross-cultural fairytales help bridge the language barrier in this beautifully-illustrated graphic novel.

My Maddy by Pitman, Gayle E. and Violet Tobacco (Illustrator). Ages 4-8. Realistic Fiction. MC’s parent is nonbinary, MC and her parent are white. My Maddy is a heartwarming story about a young girl and her parent. Readers learn that not all parents are boys or girls; some parents are just themselves. In this young girl’s case, that parent is her Maddy, a loving, caring parent who lives outside the gender binary.

My Rainbow by Neal, DeShanna, Trinity Neal, and Art Twink (Illustrator). Ages 4-8. Realistic Fiction. MC is an autistic black trans girl. Autistic trans girl Trinity wants to have long hair, but growing it out is too itchy! None of the wigs in the store are quite right, so Mom makes Trinity a special rainbow wig.

Our Subway Baby by Mercurio, Peter and Leo Espinosa (Illustrator). Ages 4 to 8. Adoption Non-fiction. MCs are white gay men, the baby they adopt is Black. Loving illustrations help tell the story of how an infant abandoned in a NYC subway station was adopted by the man who found him and his partner.

Snapdragon by Leyh, Kat. Snapdragon. Ages 10 to 14. Fantasy. Haven’t read this one yet, so I can’t comment on its representation. Snap gets to know the town witch and discovers that she may in fact have real magic and a secret connection to Snap’s family’s past.

And here are the Top Ten Books for Teen Readers:

All Boys Aren’t Blue: A Memoir-Manifesto by Johnson, George M. Ages 14 to 18. Memoir. Author/MC is a gay Black man. “Memoir-manifesto” is a well-chosen label for this book, which relates stories from the author’s childhood and young adulthood and contextualizes them within a queer Black experience. Although the author’s family is loving and supportive, pervasive heteronormativity, queerphobia, and anti-Black racism threaten his mental, emotional, and physical safety.

Camp by Rosen, L.C. Ages 14 and up. Realistic Fiction. MC and his love interest are gay Jewish boys. For Randy, going away to Camp Outland is a breath of fresh air, a time to be exactly who Randy can’t always be at school. But this year will be different. This year, Randy won’t be the flamboyant theater kid, this year Randy will be exactly the type of bro Hudson would want to date. Changing a thing or too will be necessary for Randy to succeed, even if that means leaving some friends behind.

Cemetery Boys by Thomas, Aiden. Ages 13 and up. Paranormal/Romance. MC is a trans Latino, his love interest is a gay Latino. Yadriel accidentally summons the wrong ghost in an attempt to prove himself a real brujo to his family who struggle to accept his gender identity. Though he thinks he is summoning the ghost of his cousin, he actually summons the ghost of Julian Diaz, and finds himself with not one, but two, mysterious deaths to investigate.

Circus Rose by Cornwell, Betsy. Ages 12 and up. Fantasy. One MC is white and one is mixed-race, one is a lesbian and one is questioning. Ivory and Rosie are twins and half-sisters, born to a bearded woman who refused to choose between her lovers, and raised in their mother’s circus. After a long foreign tour, they come home to find themselves under attack by religious zealots. As tragedy follows tragedy, will Ivory be able to save her circus family?

Elatsoe by Little Badger, Darcie and Rovina Cai (Illustrator). Ages 12 and up. Mystery. MC is an aro/ace Lipan Apache girl. In this OwnVoices novel, Elatsoe is on a mission to discover who killed her beloved cousin, and why. If not for her cousin, then she is doing this for her people, the Indigenous Lipan Apache tribe. Elatsoe has the ability to raise ghosts from the dead, a tradition that has been passed down through generations. On this journey it will take vulnerability, wit, and the legends of her people for Elatsoe to understand all that is hidden in the small town of Willowbee.

I’ll Be the One by Lee, Lyla. Ages 13 and up. Realistic Fiction. MC is a bi Korean-American girl, her love interest is a bi Korean boy. Skye Shin dreams of becoming the world’s first plus-sized K-pop star, and a reality TV competition may just be her chance. To win, she’ll have to deal with fatphobic beauty standards, fierce competition, and intense media scrutiny–as well as unexpected attraction to one of her competitors.

Miss Meteor by Mejia, Tehlor Kay and Anna-Marie McLemore. Ages 14 and up. Magical Realism. (I haven’t read this one, but I think both MCs are WLW Latinas.) Lita is a star – literally. After falling to earth several years ago, she’s now living life as a teenage girl. When the annual Miss Meteor pageant rolls around, Lita decides to enter – but will her ex-best friend Chicky be willing to help her? Will the pageant help her forget about the past and imagine a new future? Lita learns that winning isn’t about being perfect, it’s about showing your true self to the world – even the parts that no one else understands.

You Should See Me in a Crown by Johnson, Leah. Ages 12 and up. Realistic Fiction. MC is a black WLW (woman-loving-woman). In this affectionate rom-com, Liz Lighty finds herself an unlikely candidate for prom queen at her affluent suburban school. Shy, awkward, Black, and low-income, Liz has never felt like she belonged, and she can’t wait to leave for her dream college. But when her scholarship falls through, it seems her last resort is to win prom queen, and the scholarship money that comes with it. Liz’s plan is complicated when new girl Mack decides to run for prom queen also…and ends up running away with Liz’s heart.

War Girls by Onyebuchi, Tochi. Ages 12 and up. Science Fiction/Afro-Futurism. Both MCs are Nigerian, one is a WLW. In a not-so-distant future, climate change and nuclear disasters have made much of the earth unlivable. In the midst of war in Nigeria, two sisters, Onyii and Ify, are torn apart and face two very different futures. As their lives progress through years of untold violence and political unrest, battles with deadly mechs and cyborg soldiers outfitted with artificial limbs and organs, they are brought together again and again and must come to terms with how the war has impacted their lives.

When We Were Magic by Gailey, Sarah. Ages 14 and up. Contemporary Fantasy. MC is a white bi/questioning girl with gay dads, her friends are racially, ethnically, and queerily diverse. This firecracker of a novel follows a group of friends who attempt to correct the accidental murder of a classmate. When We Were Magic combines magic, friendship, and awkward moments to create a captivating story. Each character brings their own uniqueness to the strong group of friends, but despite their differences, their loyalty remains. Author Sarah Gailey has written another page turning novel, with the quirky strange content to boot.

#Rainbow Book List #LGBT literature #queer books #queer YA #queer children's books #Book Recommendations #we need diverse books

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sodamvelvets · 4 years

Text

“remember forever”

kim yerim x fem reader

warnings: kinda angst in the middle

word count: 4,234

a/n: It took forever, but it’s finally done! This story was originally going to end with angst but I felt bad doing that, so the ending will be fluff as usual. I’m hoping to do an Irene fic next :) Enjoy!

The jarring sound of the school bell snaps Kim Yerim awake, the brunette blinking confusedly as she watches her classmates begin to slowly file out of the lecture hall. With wide eyes, Yerim hastily packs her things and stumbles out behind them, her black messenger bag hanging lazily over her shoulder and bouncing against her hip bone with each step she takes. All around Yerim, her fellow students begin to file out of their classes and fill the hallways, their louder than usual chatter signaling the end of a long and tiring school day.

“Kim Yerim!” A sudden force slams into Yerim, jumping on her back, and instinctively she shakes the weight from her body, hearing a loud thunk as she frees herself from her attacker's grasp. Yeri’s expression is one of annoyance as her eyes narrow upon you, her troublemaking best friend, who currently lays groaning on the floor. Wordlessly, Yerim helps you to your feet.

Yerim scowls at the bashful grin on your face, self consciously glancing around as she hears the snickers of her peers.

“Shin Y/N,” She hisses into your ear, grabbing your wrist. “When will you quit acting so childish? We’re almost thirteen!”

You raise a brow, pulling away from Yerim’s grasp. ��Thirteen isn’t that old,” You say, your pace easily falling in sync with Yerim’s as the two of you exit the school together. “At least not old enough for our moms to let us walk home on our own,” You mutter, digging your hands into your pockets.

Yerim unintentionally laughs, her irritation with you quickly fading as your lip curves into a pout. “Maybe they will one day,” Yerim says, comfortingly patting your back, even if she doesn’t quite understand why having to walk home with her upsets you so much.

You beam at the younger girl. “Yeah! I’ll even ask my mom about it tonight!”

Yerim halfheartedly grins in response to your enthusiasm. Truthfully, Yerim doesn’t think she ever wants to walk home without you, or at least not until she has to, but that time won’t come for another three years when Yerim will most likely transfer to some performance arts high school that can better accommodate her trainee life. Until then though, Yerim wants to spend as much time as possible with you and make all the memories she can, before her free time is completely swallowed by her tedious practice hours that are already starting to encroach on her life now.

You’ve always been supportive of Yerim’s dream, ever since last year when she first told you she wanted to become an idol, and Yerim has always appreciated that, but lately it’s become an unspoken rule to not talk about the future, where you and Yerim will have to go your separate ways. Honestly, the thought of not always being with you scares Yerim. She can’t even remember a time when she wasn’t with you, growing up across the street from each other the two of you became quick friends, as did your mothers, and throughout your entire lives it was always spent together, and Yerim never thought it would be any different. But now that she’s a trainee, she realizes it will be different, and soon.

“Y/N?” Yerim asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had previously settled between you and her. “We’ll be together forever, right?”

Yerim bites her lips, noticing as a weird look of confusion fills your eyes. “Of course,” You say, your voice laced with worry. “Why would you think we wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know,” Yerim responds, rubbing the back of her neck. “I guess with me being a trainee now I was just scared about what that meant for us in the future.”

“Oh,” You laugh quietly, reaching for Yerim’s hand. “You think we won’t be best friends then because you’ll have to go to a different school.” Yerim nods and a smirk slowly spreads across your lips as you teasingly punch her shoulder. “Kim Yerim, you’re a lot dumber than I thought. I’m not going to stop being friends with you just because you have to go to a different high school.”

Yeri smiles softly. “Promise?”

“Promise,” You whisper, interlocking your pinky with Yerim’s. “Besides,” You add. “Three years is a long time from now.”

///

You were wrong, three years is not a long time, Yerim thinks bitterly as she gets ready for her first day at Hanlim and adjusts the bow of her freshly ironed gyobok, her eyes landing on a photograph of you and Yerim from this summer when you went to Everland all the way in Yongin.

Yerim remembers that day well. You were almost constantly smiling and there was this certain teasing but friendly lilt in your voice as you made fun of Yerim for being too afraid to go on the scarier rides. But what she remembers most clearly is what happened that night, when the two of you returned to your house, Yerim having been allowed to spend the night at your home. She remembers being surprised when you showed her the bottle of soju you had stolen from your parents, and how you and her nervously took turns sipping from it, quickly becoming giggling messes. Despite being insanely drunk at the time, to this day, Yerim can still clearly recall what happened next.

“Wait, you’ve never been kissed?” You laughed in disbelief, your cheeks starting to turn slightly red from the alcohol. “Not even by any of the hot guy trainees?”

“No,” Yerim responded, embarrassedly ducking her head and focusing on the pattern of the rug beneath her. “They’re all gross.”

“Even Minhyung?” You asked with a raised brow, and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Especially him!” Yerim exclaimed with a fake gag, which caused you to chuckle. It was a well-known fact that Yerim loathed Minhyung, or as he preferred to be called, Mark. The young rapper had much to Yerim’s distaste begun a fruitless and in Yerim’s opinion, a rather shameless pursuit of you two months ago when he had first seen you walking Yerim to the SM training center.

“Well,” You said, suddenly leaning closer to Yerim, wearing a frown. “I obviously can’t let my best friend go to her fancy idol school without ever having kissed someone.”

And then you gently wrapped your arms around her neck, delicately pressing your lips to Yerim’s for only a few seconds before pulling away with a confident smirk and giggling at Yerim’s shocked expression. “I think you’re ready for Hanlim now.”

Of course, Yerim realizes now you only did that because you were drunk, but she likes to think that you would’ve done it sober too, even if that’s just an impossible fantasy. Yerim sighs, her gaze returning to the image of you and Yerim, which she automatically omits herself from, focusing on you and your relaxed half-grin, that even in an image manages to make her heartbeat quicken, which seems to be a growing problem for Yerim as of late.

Yerim supposes it started sometime during the last year, long before you kissed her, when for some reason you suddenly stopped looking so dorky to Yerim, and less like the awkward best friend of her whole life and more like a beautiful and mature young woman that quite frankly left her speechless. Suddenly, Yerim began to notice the little things about you that despite her years with you had never caught her attention before, like how you would subtly raise a brow when you were annoyed or the way you’d bite the inside of your cheek when you wanted to say something but couldn’t. Yerim was surprised to find that she no longer wanted to slap you when you made your stupid jokes but rather laugh, and even worse kiss you goodbye instead of simply hugging you.

Yerim never told you any of this though nor did she dare act on it, instead she chose to keep it to herself, which is why you never quite understood Yerim’s hatred for Mark Lee, whom she frequently found herself jealous of, especially when just a week after your kiss with Yerim, you finally agreed to go on a date with him that led the two of you to quickly enter a relationship with each other, and of course everyone loved Mark, especially your parents. Even though Yerim said she was happy for you, always forcing a smile when you would excitedly tell her Mark was teaching you English or that you had plans with him for the weekend, deep down she was upset that she couldn’t be Mark, because sometime in between your walks home together and your whispered secrets in the dark, Yerim started to fall in love with you, her best friend, and all she wants is for you to love her back in the way she loves you.

“Yerim, let’s go!” Yerim’s head snaps up at the sound of her mother’s voice, eyes widening as she hurriedly grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder as she races downstairs, yelling a farewell to her younger sisters as she runs out the door, where she sees her mother sitting in the family car, leaning slightly outside the rolled down window and talking to someone who Yerim immediately recognizes as you.

“Yerim!” You call excitedly, apologetically excusing yourself from your conversation with Yerim’s mother as you run to meet Yerim, capturing her in a tight embrace. “Excited for Hanlim?” You ask, pulling away and giving Yerim an impressed look.

Yerim shrugs, observing your own gyobok, which is a lot simpler than hers. “I guess so,” Yerim chuckles, poking your stomach. “I definitely won’t miss you though.”

You cackle, melodramatically clutching your heart and pretending to have been shot, stopping when Yerim kicks your shin. “That is a lie Kim Yerim,” You say, wearing a knowing grin. “I know for a fact that you adore my presence.”

Yerim crosses her arms, her brow arching upwards. “Do I now?”

“Yes,” You say confidently, tapping Yerim lightly on the nose. “You love me.”

If only you knew, Yerim thinks bitterly, before shaking the thought away. “Unfortunately, you are right,” She huffs, and you smirk in victory.

“I gotta go,” You mutter, checking your watch. “I’ll catch you later Kim Yerim. Have fun with the talented kids,” You tease, and Yerim gasps in offense, moving to hit your shoulder but missing, causing you to childishly stick your tongue out at her.

“Hey,” Yerim says, grabbing your wrist as you start to leave. “SM is giving student trainees the day off for the first day of school, do you want to do something together after your classes end?”

“I’m so sorry Yerim,” You say with an apologetic smile. “But I can't, I have classes until ten o’clock tonight and I promised Mark I’d practice English with him one more time before my hagwons start next week. I’m really sorry Yerim.”

Yerim internally facepalms herself. Of course, you’re busy, Yerim forgot your school day isn’t cut short like hers is in order to accommodate her training schedule, and even if it was, you’d obviously want to spend your free time with your own boyfriend. Noticing the worried expression that has spread across your face due to Yerim’s silence, she hastily forces out a laugh. “It’s okay, maybe another time then?”

“Definitely,” You promise, lightly patting Yerim’s cheek before pulling away from her grasp. “Have a good day Yerim!” You call over your shoulder as you start to jog away.

“You too, Shin Y/N,” Yerim murmurs waving goodbye, watching as you set off down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the nearby high school.

“Ready?” Yerim’s mother asks as she climbs into the passenger seat.

Yerim nods, taking one last look at your receding form before smoothing her skirt. “Yeah.”

Yerim doesn’t see you much after that day, especially once she was requested to move into the SM dorms following her debut. Sometimes she’ll see you hanging around the dorms with Mark, who like Yeri also managed to debut. The two of you are still going strong even after almost two years. But other than your occasional appearance at the dorms, Yeri doesn’t ever really see you around. Both of you had little to no free time with Yerim’s training and your constant after school studying and hagwons that went all the way until two in the morning. In fact, you’re so busy that she hasn’t personally heard anything from you since the congratulatory text you sent Yerim after her first special stage for Ice Cream Cake, which was over a year ago.

The most recent time she saw you was a couple months ago when she returned home for Chuseok, having been granted a few days off by her company, and even then it was barely an interaction, just a rapidly uttered hello as you ran past Yerim’s house, chasing after your younger brother and pet dog, with a laughing Mark trailing closely behind, having been invited to stay with your family since he couldn’t return to Canada. Despite the briefness of your encounter, Yerim still remembers the way you looked, your long black hair flowing in the wind, everything about you still as gorgeous as ever. Even after all these years, Yerim was still jealous of Mark Lee.

Still, Yerim doesn’t blame you for not being able to spend time with her, especially as the days practically fly past Yerim and she soon finds herself already wrapping up her fourth comeback with Red Velvet, Russian Roulette. By now Yerim guesses it’s been almost a year since she saw you on Chuseok, but today, as she determinedly walks up the drive of your house, knowing it’s one of the two Saturdays you have off from school each month, she decides that streak will end. Yerim misses you a lot, and even though she hasn’t seen you in so long, she still loves you just as much as she did before the two of you lost touch, and as Yerim rings your doorbell, she feels hopeful that she can revive your friendship, not even caring that she can’t be the one to hold your heart. She just wants you back in her life in some way, no matter the label of your relationship.

“Yerim!” Your mother, Mrs. Shin, gasps in surprise as she opens the door, wrapping her arms around Yerim in a tight hug. “It’s been years!” Mrs. Shin pulls away from Yerim, looking at her with a raised brow. “But what brings you here, aren’t you busy with promotions?”

Yerim gapes at Mrs. Shin, somewhat surprised that she’s kept up with Red Velvet’s activities before shaking her head. “No, they just ended actually,” Yerim says, rubbing her neck awkwardly. “I just came by to see Y/N, it’s been a while since we last talked.”

Mrs. Shin tilts her head, an unreadable expression coming over her face. “Y/N?” She echoes, confusion clearly laced in her voice.

“Yeah,” Yerim laughs uncomfortably, attempting to peer over your mother’s shoulder and look inside your house. “Is she here?”

“Oh Yerim,” Mrs. Shin says softly, sudden realization in her voice as she reaches for Yerim’s hand. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Tell me what?” Yerim asks nervously, dread beginning to build in her stomach.”

“Y/N went to America to study abroad,” Mrs. Shin whispers. “She won’t be back until she graduates.”

You broke your promise, Yerim thinks as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. You promised you’d be with Yerim forever and then you left. Yerim wants to scream, and curse the world, to fly all the way to America tell you how much she hates you, but the worst part is, she can’t do that because she knows she’d be lying. Even after all you’ve done, Kim Yerim still loves you, and she can’t even stay mad at you for leaving.

///

Yerim sighs softly as her makeup artist, Kyoung Mee, applies her lip liner, preparing the young idol for Red Velvet’s fan meeting happening in less than an hour.

“All right,” Kyoung Mee says, patting Yerim’s shoulder. “You’re all set.”

Yerim smiles in appreciation. “Thank you, it looks beautiful.”

Yerim bites her lip, looking in the mirror and adjusting her jacket. It’s been four years since that day when she found out you went to study abroad, and even now, you still haven’t officially returned. According to your mother, you had decided to stay in America to study at some high-class med school. Every once in a while, you’ll come to Korea for a brief visit before disappearing again, but no matter how hard she tries to free up her schedule, Yerim always seems to miss you.

“Yeri’s making that face again!” Yerim jumps at the sound of her bandmate, Park Sooyoung’s voice, Yerim turning in her seat to slap the older girl as she appears behind Yerim, wearing a mischievous smirk. “You hit like a baby Yeri, but I guess it makes sense since you’re the maknae.”

Yerim rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you give me another try,” She mutters.

“No thanks,” Joy grins, pinching Yerim’s cheeks. “We can’t have our little baby tiring herself out before the fan meet,”

“I swear to God Sooyoung,” Yerim growls swatting the older girl’s hand away. “I‘ll kill you one day.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Joy cackles, ruffling Yerim’s hair and taking a seat next to her. “Anyways,” Joy says, leaning back in her chair and stretching out her arms behind her. “Why were you making that face again?”

“What face?” Yerim asks flatly, pulling out her phone and beginning to scroll through her social media.

Joy shrugs. “The one you make when you think about that Shin Y/N girl.”

Yerim places her phone on the table, meeting Joy’s gaze. “I don’t make a face when I think about her,” Yeri deadpans.

Joy laughs obnoxiously. “Yes, you do.”

Yerim crosses her arms. “No, I don’t.”

“Actually, for once Sooyoung is right,” Joohyun, who despite being across the room calls, clearly having been listening to the two younger girls’ conversation. “You totally do. I remember you used to make the same exact face whenever you’d see her and Mark Lee together.”

“Shut up Irene!” Yeri yells, sinking down in her chair, and burying her head in her hands, she feels like an idiot. It’s been five years since she last saw you and yet somehow she’s still horribly in love with you. You, a girl who quite literally left Yerim on her own and has never once even thought of Yerim romantically.

“I’m sorry Yerim. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Joy says softly after a few moments of silence, reaching out to grab Yerim’s wrist. “But, don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“I’ve tried Sooyoung,” Yerim murmurs. “I just can’t.”

Joy opens her mouth to say something but closes it when their manager appears with Seulgi and Seungwan lurking behind him. “It’s time for the fan meeting ladies.”

Yerim nods, standing to follow her manager, but Sooyoung stops her. “Will you be okay?”

Yerim takes a deep breath. “Yeah.” She says, brushing past Sooyoung.

Yerim is smiling broadly by the time the fan meeting is nearing its end, her precious luvies having improved her mood significantly, each brief conversation and signed album helping her push away any lingering thoughts of you.

“What the hell?” Yerim hears Irene mutter under her breath, and Yerim briefly peers over at her leader only to find her cheerfully conversing with a female fan, who has hidden their face in embarrassment, and Yerim assumes it’s most likely because of some greasy pick-up line that Irene learned from Seungwan.

Still confused, Yerim looks down the table, handing a luvie their album back and searching for what could’ve possibly alarmed Irene as she waits for Joohyun to finish things up with the fan she’s currently talking with. But Yerim notices nothing out of the ordinary unless she counts the different order she and her members had decided to sit in today, that leaves Yerim and Irene at the table’s end.

“Excuse me?” Yerim jumps at the sound, her gaze refocusing forwards as the female luvie who had just been chatting with Irene sits down in front of her, wearing a lazy half-grin, and Yerim’s jaw drops. Suddenly, she understands Joohyun’s prior shock. It’s you.

“It’s been awhile Kim Yerim,” You murmur.

Yerim gapes, taking in your face that’s just as gorgeous and breathtaking if not even more so than she remembers, and she sees that your eyes are still filled with their familiar troublemaking gleam. Tentatively Yerim reaches to touch you, slightly surprised to find she can feel your warm skin underneath her fingers.

“You’re actually here,” She laughs in amazement, tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

“Of course I am,” You say, grabbing Yerim’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze before your lips curve into a smirk. “Hey, when you stop crying can you sign my album?”

Yerim kicks you under the table. “You’re such a jerk.”

///

Yerim’s shoulder brushes against yours as the two of you walk quietly up the stairs that lead to Yerim’s dorm room. The fansign had ended over an hour ago and with Joohyun’s help, Yerim had been able to convince her manager to let her skip the rest of her schedule, allowing her to spend the remainder of the day with you.

“I’m sorry for leaving you,” You say finally as Yerim unlocks the door and ushers you inside, effectively breaking the silence that had previously settled between you and Yerim.

Yerim bites her lip, glancing up at you and noticing the guilty expression on your face. “It’s fine,” She says slowly, guiding you to her bed where she settles herself, motioning for you to do the same and trying her best to keep her voice even as she continues. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d be able to change my mind,” You mutter, your gaze becoming far off as you sit down beside Yerim.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yerim asks.

You look at Yerim, smiling slightly. “You’re still dumb as ever Kim Yerim,” You chuckle. “Do you remember Minhyung?”

“Mark?” Yerim nods her head. “Of course.”

“You never liked him did you?”

Yerim doesn’t respond causing you to laugh loudly.

“It’s okay,” You say quietly, leaning into Yerim’s side. “I didn’t like him either, at least not in the way I should’ve. Whenever I was with him I was always thinking of someone else. He told me to stay in Korea, but I didn’t listen,” You frown. “I actually ended up breaking up with him over it, but that’s not the point. The point is, I think that if that someone else I mentioned had told me to stay I would’ve, without a second thought. Even if they said the exact same thing Mark did.”

Yerim’s mouth goes dry as she stares at you, your words from earlier ringing in her ears, that she would’ve been able to change your mind. Yerim thinks of all the times you left lingering touches on her skin that she had never let herself believe were more than friendly. She thinks of how you’d always ask her to sleep in your bed when she’d stay over at your house, even when you were most definitely old enough to sleep alone. She thinks of the dozens of times you rejected Mark before you finally said yes, exactly a week after you kissed her, seemingly giving him a chance out of nowhere. “You weren’t drunk that night, were you?”

“When I kissed you?” You shrug. “No, at least not enough to not know what I was doing.“

Yerim isn’t sure how it happens, maybe it was all those wasted years of yearning manifesting themself, but suddenly she finds herself hovering over you, gently pressing you into the plush mattress as she moves her lips so tantalizingly close to yours that she can feel your uneven breaths tickling her skin. Yerim doesn’t dare close the gap though, instead searching your eyes for a sign to continue, and all it takes is your subtle nod for her to finally do what she’s been waiting to do for so long, capturing your lips in a kiss that she makes sure shows how long, how much, she’s wanted this, her body falling on top of yours as you pull her into you, and flip the two over so you’re straddling Yerim by her waist. Soft whines escaping Yerim as you run your tongue across her bottom lip, before pressing it into her mouth, tangling your hands amongst Yerim’s hair.

“You know I meant it,” You breathe out minutes later as much to Yerim’s distaste, you slowly pull away from her, rolling off her and onto your side, allowing Yerim to wrap a protective arm around your body as your head moves to rest on her shoulder.

Yerim glances down at you. “Meant what?”

“When I promised you we’d always be together,” You say with a small smile. “I’m transferring to a med school in Seoul this month.”

Yerim’s eyes widen. “I thought you forgot about that promise.”

“No way,” You murmur, reaching to caress Yerim’s cheek. “When it comes to you Kim Yerim, I’ll remember forever.”

#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #red velvet x reader #red velvet imagines #yeri x reader #red velvet scenario #red velvet fluff #red velvet #yeri #yeri imagines #yeri scenarios #kim yerim #kim yerim x reader

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