#this is also the character who will fall into silence for an entire chapter and then suddenly say something like this

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PEREGRINE // FIVE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You, a new transfer to Hakuho High School, have a first day that is even worse than you had expected.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.2k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: just a reminder that this is an AU so things will in fact be different from how they are in canon (i think this is mostly evident w reo?? he’s really something in this past arc LMAOAO like i love him but he is so…interesting…) also dw guys reo is NOT a love interest he’s just bored and has nothing better to do because he hasn’t discovered the joys of soccer and babysitting nagi yet

divider credits: @/benkeibear

The first time you had a crush on a boy, you made the mistake of telling the girl who you had, at the time, considered to be your best friend. That was what people did with their best friends, so you had pointed at him and squeaked out your feelings in hushed whispers. Now, of course, you couldn’t recall anything about him, not his face nor his name, so irrelevant he had been, but you could not say the same about the girl who had been your first lesson in betrayal. Her, you remembered everything about.

Even back then, she had been tall and slender, with beetle-bright eyes and hair like an oil spill, her small mouth the color of strawberries and her round face pale like the moon. If she had stood beside anyone but you, she would have been widely considered lovely, but unfortunately, Orie Watanabe would forever have to be content with second place — because when it came to looks, there wasn’t a girl in the entire town who could claim to be your equal.

You had thought that that didn’t matter. You had thought that Orie loved you as much as you loved her, that she brushed aside what others said with the same ease that you did, that the comparisons drawn between you two were made by halfwits and easily ignored.

You had thought wrong. Orie had narrowed her eyes at the boy you had told her about, and then she had smiled at you.

“He’s cute,” she had whispered. “You really like him? A lot?”

“I think so,” you had said.

“Like, you love him?” she had said. “My parents told me that love is when you want to marry someone and be with them forever. D’you love him?”

“I dunno. Guess I do,” you had said before returning to your coloring page, shading between the black lines. Abstract concepts such as love and marriage and eternity hadn’t even made sense to you at that point in your life, so how else could you have answered the question?

Because both you and Orie lived far from your elementary school, your parents and hers used to take turns dropping you both off and picking you up again. That afternoon, your mother had been the one who came to get you, her freshly-washed car shining in the afternoon sunlight, her dark sunglasses reflecting the world around her.

“Mrs. L/N,” Orie had said as your mother pulled out of the spot she had been waiting for you in. “Did you know that there’s a boy Y/N wants to marry?”

“Of course there is,” your mother had responded coolly. “Reo Mikage. We’ve told her since she was young that she will end up as his wife one day.”

“No, it’s someone in our class,” Orie had said, despite the way you had kicked her leg and shaken your head at her, pleading with her to stop.

“Orie,” you had pleaded under your breath. She had glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, and it had been such a baleful expression, so foreign on her demure features, that you had shrank back into your seat.

“She’s in love with him,” Orie had said. “She told me in class. She wants to marry him and be with him forever.”

“I see,” your mother had said. “Thank you for telling me, Orie.”

All of you had spent the rest of the car ride in silence. Orie hadn’t felt the need to speak again, so she had only murmured a farewell to your mother and gazed at you over her shoulder before darting into her house and leaving you alone. As for you, you had been too afraid to even move, let alone say anything.

You hadn’t understood it at the time, but you had known intrinsically that you had done something wrong. Those feelings, which you had shared with Orie in the hopes that she would keep them secret, were of the sort that had hurt your mother, hurt her to the point of anger.

“Y/N,” she had said when you had entered the house. You had peered up at her then, still needing to crane your neck to meet her eyes, and at the fearsome expression on her face, you had shied back before you could stop yourself. “Who taught you about such things as love?”

You had stammered, more out of apprehension than anything, your first instinct still to protect Orie, though she had not shown you the same consideration. “No — no one, mother.”

“It wasn’t us, so it must’ve been someone,” she had said, clicking her tongue before her eyes had flicked to the television. “Ah. Have you been watching those silly American movies again? Did you really think you’d get to be Cinderella? Those stories aren’t real. Love isn’t something you can believe in. Maybe other people can chase those kinds of ideals, but we’ve raised you to be better than that.”

“I’m sorry, mother,” you had said. She had sighed then, so aggravated, obviously not believing anything you were saying — and of course she had not. You yourself hadn’t known what it was that you were apologizing for, so how could she have accepted it?

“Love is a luxury that only the most hedonistic and privileged of ignoramuses can indulge in. When things grow difficult, when your existence is no longer assured, you’ll find that love is meaningless,” she had said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Go to your room. There’s no need for you to have dinner tonight. We’ll talk in the morning.”

You had cried until you had fallen into an uneasy sleep, your stomach rumbling and sore, but neither your mother nor your father had budged. You hadn’t seen either of them again until the next day, when your mother had come up to wake you for school.

“Good morning,” she had said flatly. You had blinked at her, your head aching peculiarly, your neck cramped, and then you had scrambled to your feet, kicking the sheets aside so you could throw your arms around her legs.

“Good morning, mama,” you had said. “Can I have breakfast?”

Your mother had patted you on the head. “Do you still love that boy?”

You hadn’t even hesitated. “No.”

She had scoffed at that but motioned for you to follow after her. “There it is. See how easily love fades? In the face of hardship, it’s the first thing forsaken. If a man tells you that all he can give you is his love, then I want you to remember this day and run, Y/N. Run as fast as you can, because if he only has love to his name, then he has nothing at all.”

“Y/N L/N, your uniform is ready.”

You brushed past the amassed throng of parents, making your way to the counter where a woman with glasses was passing out the uniforms for the next school year. It was your first time at this store, but you did not dare let your face betray your nervousness, walking with your head held high and your shoulders squared, your nose lifted in the air as if you found every other person in the room to be beneath you.

“Here you go,” the woman said, sliding the clear packet over to you. “Are you new? I don’t remember ever seeing you before, but our records show you’re a third year.”

“Ah, yes, I just transferred,” you said. “I’ve been attending the girls’ academy until now, but for my final year of schooling, my parents thought it’d be prudent that I have some exposure to a blended environment.”

“Well, welcome to Hakuho High School. I’m sure you won’t regret your decision,” she said.

“I’m sure I won’t,” you said, bowing slightly at her, holding the packet with your uniform in it to your chest. “I’m very excited to be here.”

“We’re excited to have you, dear. Seishiro Nagi! Your uniform is ready,” she said. You smiled tightly and turned to leave, narrowly avoiding slamming into a comically tall, pale-haired boy as you wove through the crowd. Far too lost in your own thoughts, you waved off his mumbled apology, seeing no point in even responding in kind.

Of course, you had lied to that woman. Your parents didn’t really care whether or not you ever interacted with boys your own age. In fact, if they had their way, you would stay shut in your room for the rest of your life, a delicate flower preserved in a state of full bloom. There was only one thing that had convinced them to move you to Hakuho — the fact that Reo Mikage attended.

After all, he was their ultimate goal. If you could just marry someone like that, then you would never have to worry a day in your life. You would always be happy, always be safe, always be secure. He was the ideal of stability and success, and so, in their eyes, there was no one better for you to one day wed.

Unfortunately for your parents, you had long ago decided that Reo Mikage was a person you despised, though the two of you had never met. You had your own reasons for wanting to go to Hakuho High School, reasons which you could never tell them about for fear of losing your one chance at escaping for good.

For being as prestigious as it was, Hakuho High School was a relatively ordinary building. There was nothing special about the place — it didn’t sparkle, and no angels sang when you took your first step through the entrance, self-consciously adjusting your shirt collar and skirt, though you already knew that they were perfect.

This was your first impression on your classmates. The last thing you wanted was to come off across as some kind of an idiot or blundering dunce who could barely even put one foot in front of the other. You had experience being hated, but never had you been afforded the pity and derision of others, and you were not overly keen on earning them now.

Your first period was Physics, and according to the schedule you had on your phone, the classroom was located on the second floor of the high school. You climbed up the stairs carefully but quickly, ducking your head so that you blended in with the masses of students, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself.

It would be embarrassing to pull out the folded map you had tucked away in your back pocket, so you visualized it in your mind, tracing the routes you had gone over in colored markers last night and trying to apply them to the maze of hallways you were standing in. Despite your best efforts, though, you could not make sense of any of it, and as the minute hand of the clock drew closer and closer to when the bell would ring, an uneasiness brewed in your stomach. Were you seriously going to be late on the very first day of school?

Just then, a vaguely familiar looking boy ambled past. You couldn’t quite place where you recognized him from, but it was more than you could say about anyone else in the entire building, and you didn’t have many other options. Swallowing your pride, you chased after him, closing the gap between the two of you and tapping him on the shoulder.

He had a messy mop of cloud-like hair, and his large eyes were the color of turtle-doves. His soft face wore a drowsy expression, like he was not quite yet awake but was rather drifting through the school like a half-asleep ghost, and instead of the typical button-down shirt, he wore an oversized sweatshirt under his blazer. When he turned to face you, your hand still resting on his shoulder, his eyebrows drew together, and he cocked his head in a manner reminiscent of a lost puppy.

“Hello, I’m Y/N L/N! I just transferred here. Um, I think that I’ve seen you somewhere, so I hope you don’t mind me stopping you in particular,” you said. Wordlessly, he shook his head, though you were not sure which part he meant to refute. “Ah, or maybe not. I must’ve confused you for someone else; well, anyways, it hardly matters. I was just wondering if you knew where the room for the third year Physics class was? I have it with Mr. Tachibana, if that provides any necessary clarification.”

The boy stared at you for a moment before he slightly lifted his shoulders in what you could only assume was a shrug. You waited for him to elaborate, to say something or perhaps introduce himself, but he must’ve deemed the response satisfactory, as with that, he trudged off, rounding the corner and leaving you fuming.

What a rude, despicable person. It wasn’t like you wanted to be particularly friendly, either, but when the situation called for it, you could at least pretend like you cared about others. The bare minimum was answering someone’s questions with actual words, but this boy could not even muster up the energy to do that much.

“Psst,” a voice said. You turned to see a girl standing there, her face bright, her hair perfectly curled and held half-back with a clip, her makeup applied with an artful hand. “That’s Seishiro Nagi. Don’t bother with him. Come on, I’m going to Physics as well, so you can follow me.”

“What do you mean?” you said, grateful that not all of the Hakuho students were as standoffish as Nagi. The girl used her hand to cover her giggle.

“He’s cursed. We think he’s the child of the devil or something; only bad things happen to people who talk to him, so everyone avoids him,” she said.

“The child of the devil?” you said.

“Mhm, he’s a total weirdo. He doesn’t speak to anyone, and the only things anyone’s ever seen him do are play video games and sleep. He’s not in any clubs or activities or anything, and he has no friends, mostly because no one wants to go near him,” she said.

“Interesting,” you said. It was a shame, really, that such a slacker was taking up a space at Hakuho. He must’ve been at the bottom of the class, but then again, there had to be those people, too. Not everyone could be number one; there would always be those who came in last, whether due to a lack of aptitude or passion or both.

“I hope you’re okay, though,” the girl said. “You even touched him! That’s basically a guarantee that you’ll be jinxed.”

“He’s just another high schooler. I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you said. The girl shook her head rapidly.

“No, no, you don’t get it! One time, this girl I knew spoke to him, and the next day, her boyfriend dumped her! I really don’t want anything like that happening to you,” she said.

“I don’t think that Nagi had anything to do with that,” you said as you entered the classroom. “Things like curses aren’t actually real, you know. He’s just an abhorrently detached and self-involved layabout. It’s a shame to see, but there’s always going to be people like that, you know. They’re the worst sort, but the explanation isn’t supernatural.”

“Just you wait and see,” the girl said. “By the way, you’re super beautiful. What’s your name?”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. “Thank you. And what is yours?”

“Sonoko Ishioka!” she said. “You should sit with my friends and I at lunch today. I think that you’ll fit in perfectly with the rest of us.”

You didn’t have any great desire to acquaint yourself with Ishioka, but she was the first person who had offered, and after all, she had shown you the way to the classroom, so you hummed in agreement.

“Thank you,” you said, setting your things down in the seat beside her for the time being. Surely, your teacher would reassign your partners for the year once the period began, but until then, you supposed Ishioka was your best option.

“Welcome, class. I am Akihiro Tachibana, and I will be your Physics teacher. I would like to start the session with a warning to you all: this year will be of an unprecedented difficulty. You will be preparing for entrance examinations and completing applications to various universities, and at the same time, your classes will be more advanced than ever,” your teacher said as soon as the bell had finished ringing. He was a tall yet stocky man, his hair more silver than black, his eyes deep-set in his severe face. There was an aged sort of wisdom about him, as if his great knowledge was an accumulation of experiences instead of the result of extensive study.

“Mr. Tachibana is totally intense,” Ishioka whispered to you. “He’s super tough on his students. It sucks that we got stuck with him as our teacher instead of the other one. She’s apparently way nicer.”

“Hm,” you said.

“Since this is your first period of your first day, I will take the moment to remind you that this is your third year, which means that all of you are now in direct competition for the prestigious Hakuho Scholars award,” Mr. Tachibana continued. You straightened in your seat. “For those of you who forgot, the Hakuho Scholars are those two students who receive the highest and second-highest marks on their final exams. Every year, this select pair receives funding from the Hakuho Alumni Association in order to achieve their future goals, and as someone who has been teaching here for almost as long as all of you have been alive, let me be the one to tell you that the award granted is generous.”

“Sounds stressful,” Ishioka said, wrapping her arms around herself. “I bet Reo is going to get the top spot again, so there’s only one slot open. I’m not even going to try. What about you, L/N?”

“Of course, I’ll give it my best shot,” you said, the pleasantness of your voice just barely masquerading the greedy anxiousness simmering beneath the surface. You wouldn’t just give it your best shot — you had to be a Hakuho Scholar. That program was the only reason that you had even agreed to transferring in the first place.

“Now that that’s out of the way, let me read out the seating chart,” Mr. Tachibana said, his voice fading into a monotonous background noise as he listed off the partners that you would sit with for the rest of the class.

You waited for your name to be called, but it took a while. Ishioka was assigned before you, leaving you behind with a promise to meet you at lunch and an empty seat at your side, which you resolved to make your future partner occupy. You were hardly about to move, and anyways, most people were quick to oblige your demands, as you had this method of disguising them as sweet pleas instead of bratty commands.

“Y/N L/N and Reo Mikage,” Mr. Tachibana said.

Nagi had somehow jinxed you. You had thought Ishioka was full of drivel when she was going on and on about it, but she had actually been right, because now you were paired up with the one person you had wanted to avoid for the entire year. What sort of coincidence was this? How pleased would your parents be, that Reo Mikage had all but fallen into your lap before you could even do anything to get him there? And how furious were you, that you could not escape him even when you wanted to so desperately?

“Normally, people move to my table, but it’s nice to stretch my legs every once in a while. Thank you for that.” Even the way he spoke grated on your nerves. Reo Mikage. He talked like a prince, his words dripping with charm and grace, his movements elegant as he pulled out the chair Ishioka had sat in previously so that he could lower himself into it. His clear eyes were a shade of violet that shimmered like mountains in the mist, and his hair was the same color, hanging around his face in a neatly parted curtain. Unlike that accursed Nagi, who was the only other boy you had thus far encountered, Reo wore the expected shirt and tie, his blazer and pants impeccably pressed, his shoes shined to the point of reflection. “Are you Y/N L/N? I don’t recognize you, but neither do I recognize the name, so it makes sense. Are you new?”

“Just transferred,” you said shortly, taking out a notebook and busying yourself with your pencil case, though of course there was nothing in it that could really hold your interest for very long.

“I see,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh-huh,” you said. “Look, here’s how it’s going to go: we’re going to get our assignments, and you’re going to let me do them, and then we’ll sign both of our names on the top and get full marks and be quite happy with ourselves.”

“Excuse me?” he said. You unscrewed the cap of your pen, labeling the top of the fresh page with the date and the material that you would cover in that class.

“I don’t have any interest in working with you, but I don’t trust you to do anything on your own, so if it means saving my grade, then I’ll take care of it,” you said. “I won’t complain or rat you out or anything. Not that anything would happen even if I did.”

“What are you talking about? Are you quite mad? I’ve been the top of our class for the past two years,” he said.

“You’re also the son of one of the wealthiest men in the entire world,” you said. “I am certain that those two things have no correlation whatsoever, of course. It’s just an observation I’m making.”

“You’re suggesting that I pay for my grades?” he said. There was a faint color to his cheeks now, but it wasn’t the rosy hue that your mother would’ve swooned at. It was an angry flush that made you snort as you copied down Mr. Tachibana’s slides, not even bothering to look at Reo when you spoke next.

“Pay for your grades, pay for your work, pay for shitty work so you can pay even more to get good grades regardless…there’s unlimited options available for a person with as much money as you, right? I’m not suggesting anything, naturally, so there shouldn’t be a need for you to be so upset, unless what I’m saying is close to the truth,” you said. “Though either way, it doesn’t matter to me. Look, I’m sure you’re used to people asking you to do their work for them, so how about you just act happy that I’m offering? It’ll save you money. Or time. Or whatever.”

“You’re presumptuous,” he said, but inquisitively, without a hint of the rage you had anticipated. “We’ve only just met, and yet you’re speaking aloud these horrible assumptions, which you have made not just about my integrity but also about my wits. I mean, what kind of a person would pay for terrible work just to spend more money on bribing their teachers into accepting it?”

“How could I begin to understand the lifestyle of the rich and famous?” you said. “Don’t bother explaining what it’s really like. As with everything related to you, I don’t much care.”

At that, he laughed. He did not yell or argue or have any other normal reaction. He laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you to his side affectionately as the bell rang to signify the end of the period. Startled, you shoved him off of you, glaring at him as much because you were flustered as because you were vexed.

“Do you really hate me that much? I’ve never met a person who didn’t like me. It’s interesting. I think that I like you more for it,” he said.

“What?” you said. “No, you don’t. You are as apathetic about me as I am about you. Perhaps there is even exasperation at my impudence brewing deep within your consciousness, but certainly there are no fond feelings between the two of us.”

“Just you wait,” he said, lifting your bag before you even had the chance to reach for it, hefting it over his shoulder like some kind of gentleman. “I’ll make you change your mind. You’ll agree to be my friend one day.”

“Why would you do that? And give me my bag back!” you said.

“What’s your next class? I’ll walk you there,” he said.

“You will do no such—” you broke off in the middle of your staunch refusal. Technically, you didn’t know how to get to your next class yet, so if Reo was offering, then you’d be a fool to deny him, no matter how much you wanted to steer clear of his general presence. “—World History.”

“Aw, I have English,” Reo said. “But that’s in the same area of the school, so it’s not a problem.”

You rolled your eyes. “What a shame.”

“You’re being sarcastic, but soon enough, you’ll mean that,” Reo said.

“Honestly, I don’t get what the end goal is here,” you said. “I’d much prefer if you just left me alone, and you’d have an easier time of it, too. Don’t you already have plenty of friends? If not, then please find some that actually want to be around you. With your income level, it should be a breeze, but should you somehow be unable, then you can probably pay someone to keep you company. Someone who isn’t me, that is.”

“That’s just it,” Reo said. “At the moment, I can easily become friends with anyone in the entire school without any effort at all. The exception is you, which means that you’re the only one I want.”

No. No. No. Reo couldn’t want you, not in any way. Platonically, romantically, even as an unpaid intern…he absolutely could not want you. If your parents ever found out that he was saying such things about you, then you would never hear the end of it. And they would find out. Always, always, they found out.

“Y/N!” Ishioka squealed, bounding up to you and embracing you tightly. You weren’t sure where this sociability came from at first — the two of you were barely anything more than classmates, so she ought to refer to you as L/N. And since when had you allowed her to hug you? Was everyone at Hakuho this brand of touchy? But then you noticed that she had strategically maneuvered herself in between you and Reo, batting her eyelashes up at him, and it all made sense. “Are you still planning on coming to lunch with us?”

“No, she’s eating with me,” Reo said.

“Since when?” you hissed, though you were as much a part of the conversation as a cactus would’ve been, considering how neither of them paid any heed to you.

“You’re friends with Y/N? She and I are very close, so of course, she’ll want to spend time with me today. But you can come as well, Reo; we’d never say no to you,” she said.

“Er, it’s a lovely offer, but I think that I’ll have to pass,” Reo said. You took advantage of the moment to snatch your bag back from him, clutching it to your chest so that he could not take it again. He glanced over at you in confusion before returning his attention to figuring out a way to bow out of eating with you and Ishioka.

“Is it like that, then?” Ishioka said, her eyes darting between you and Reo. “Do the two of you want to eat alone?”

“No!” you said. “No, not in the slightest. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s the opposite of that. I don’t want to eat with him at all. I would much prefer having lunch with you and your friends.”

But Ishioka didn’t want to have lunch with you anymore. She hadn’t said it directly, but she didn’t need to; her expression was pinched and sour, a lemon-sucking sort of expression that you were all-too-familiar with.

“It’s fine,” she said. “On second thoughts, we don’t have any space left at our table.”

Your shoulders slumped. It was the same story again, and though Ishioka wasn’t anyone special nor important to you, just the reminder was enough to pinch at your heart. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” Ishioka said, though most likely, she only did so because Reo still stood there, somehow managing to maintain a dignified air about him despite how out-of-place he was. “See you around, then, Reo, L/N.”

“Thank goodness,” Reo said as soon as she had left. “I really didn’t want to spend time with her. Her and her friends are a little odd.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” you snapped. “She was the first one to be nice to me, and now that I’ve made an enemy of her, I doubt anyone else will want to show me any kindness. If this is your attempt at befriending me, then it’s terrible. I hate you even more.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that,” Reo said. The apology didn’t feel feigned, which only made it worse — he really was sorry, and he really hadn’t thought of that outcome. Why would he? It wasn’t something he would’ve ever had to worry about.

“Just show me where my class is so I’m not late,” you said. “We’re already cutting it close as it is.”

He was well-mannered enough not to point out that it had been Ishioka’s interference that had delayed you, but then again, although Ishioka had used you as a pretense, her true goal had been Reo, so you were nothing but faultless in the matter of your possible tardiness.

“I’ll wait by this door for you once the period is over, so that we can take our lunch break together,” he said once you reached the entrance to your World History class.

“Do your ears need cleaning? I said I don’t want to eat with you, didn’t I?” you said.

“Who else would you eat with?” he said.

Right. Because stupid Reo Mikage had ensured that no one else would ever want to hang out with you, not after what you had inadvertently done to Ishioka came out — what a bitch, she went for her friend’s crush? And after Ishioka was so nice, too — leaving him as your only choice.

“I’ll eat by myself,” you said. “And you’ll agree to that if you ever want to have even a chance of me liking you, because if I have to look at you for one more minute, I believe that I will scream and then attack you in a most violent and vicious way.”

He grinned at you. “I’ll get to my own class before that, then. See you tomorrow.”

You stuck your tongue out at his receding back and prayed that he grew bored of this new game of his quickly, lest you be driven to insanity before the end of the month.

taglist (comment/send an ask to be added): @mariyumemi @naatggeo @prettyarsxnist @noble-17 @rinitoshisgirl @stuckindreamland06 @little-miss-chaoss

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #peregrine #m1ckeyb3rry writes

[beaversatemygrandma]

Back on my bullshit about attempting to draw people while continuously telling myself that as soon as i give them a face it doesn’t mean they’re looking at me and judging me.

#taks speaks #theres so many things ive thought of while writing #and i really want to make some random comics of the shit that would happen between the scenes bc they kill the serious tone #but they're absolutely canon to the story bc these OCs are fuckin chaotic #for one of them. i think his deadpan delivery of certain words would go a lot better visually #in a scene i put in like last night. it was a joking threat that sounded like a genuine threat but it was so absurd and deadpan #and i dont think the writing does it justice for what it was in my head #this is also the character who will fall into silence for an entire chapter and then suddenly say something like this #and everybody is caught off guard enough that he manages to get more attention than he wished to in the first place #the last one essentially went like this: #*he's dead silent and pissed off* friend sitting next to him trying to find a way to help him not be so stressed out #'dont you just want to go apeshit. etc. etc. etc.' #*he looks at them and just flat out says* #'i can shoot your toes off from thirty feet away' #*has successfully gotten his friend to shut the fuck up* #this was a destressor after a largely traumatic scene tbh lmao #even if it was the chaotic friend trying to get the pacifist to fuck some shit up for the first time in his life #'get mad. kill something. the world has ended!' 'I'll end you.' i mean. it has an effect.

[burstfoot]

Figured I'd make a post outlining Arknights' auxiliary material for those who want to see more of the universe and aren't aware of all that's out there! ANIMATION Arknights Prelude To Dawn (S1) and Perish in Frost (S2, currently airing): [Crunchyroll]

A straight up adapation of the main story, up through Chapter 0 to Chapter 6! It's much more fast-paced than the story, so I wouldn't use it to replace actually reading it, but it's very cool to see some of these scenes in full animation. Lee's Detective Agency: (Youtube)

A mini-series animated in a chibi-style with a comedic tone focused on the adventures of the Kuroblood-illustrated Lee's Detective Agency! Distributed by Crunchyroll globally, but entirely free to watch.

Closure's Secret Files: (Youtube)

A cut-out styled series of shorts hosted by Closure which outlines a lot of the game's basic mechanics!

Holy Knight Light: [Youtube]

A short Youtube OVA focusing around Penguin Logistics delivering a package, celebrating Arknights' first anniversary!

[Upcoming]: Kay's Daily Doodles: (Twitter Annoucement)

Another free youtube mini-series that starts airing December 1st, focused around Ceobe! Here's some additional animations! Each event usually also has a 15 second 2D animated preview of the event, but there's so many of those that I can't list them all. Official Anniversary Event 3D Animations: Lone Trail Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow Il Siracusano Ideal City Stultifera Navis Invitation To Wine Near Light Dossoles Holiday Under Tides Bonus 3D Animated Shorts: Legend of Chongyue Arknights Special - IL Siracusano Lo Scontro Youtube Shorts: Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 1 Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 2 Amiya's Siracusan Food Guide Part 1 Amiya's Siracusano Food Guide Part 2

Comics, Manga, Manhua

Officially Translated Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Rhine Lab: (Offical Website)

A canon manhua centered around the circumstances that lead to Silence falling out with Saria and joining Rhodes Island with Ifrit, as well as Ifrit's attempt to save a dying infected stowaway on the landship. Essential reading for understanding the Rhine Lab storyline and characters - read it right after Mansfield! One of the characters, Darya, is mentioned in both Ifrit's module and briefly in Lone Trail.

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Blacksteel: (Official Source)

A short story focusing on the lives of the Blacksteel operators aboard the landship. While it often gets overshadowed by the Rhine Lab manga which is bigger in scope, this is a great read especially if you're interested in Franka or Liskarm.

Rhodes Kitchen -TIDBITS-: (Official Source)

An anthology story related to the cuisine that's important to a variety of operators. While it might seem unassuming, the art is gorgeous and it's really well-written. I particularly recommend the Goldenglow (Chapter 4) and Rosa (Chapter 5) chapters.

Unofficially Translated

Arknights Comic Anthology: (Mangadex)

As the title says, a series of non-canon anthology stories regarding the cast of Rhodes' Island! Note that the link provided only has complete translations up to Volume 4 (and Vol. 4 is missing Ch. 7), and most of the chapters avaliable after that point were MTL'd, so I can't vouch for their accuracy. Chapters I'd recommend are: Volume 1: Chapter 12 (focused on Myrrh trying to improve her medicine), Chapter 14 (focused on Saria and Silence trying to put apart their differences to take Ifrit on vacation, afaik the only place where they are directly referred to as her "moms") Volume 2: Chapter 1 (Manticore tries to make friends), Chapter 3 (The LGD gets drunk), Chapter 11 (Texlapp and Mosexu yuribait), Ch. 13 (Magallan tries to find a pet), Chapter 16 (Ethan spies on the interior lives of Rhodes operators) Volume 3: Chapter 6 (Snowsant, Ifrit, Nian and Shaw are forced to make friends), Chapter 7 (Gummy flashes back to Chernobog), Chapter 10 (FEater and Shaw yuribait), Chapter 13 (Blackout on the landship, as well as Ayerscarpe and Leonhardt yaoibait)

Volume 4: Chapter 4 (Thorns tries to make friends with Weedy [this one is my favourite]), Chapter 6 (Tomimi tail spankings), Chapter 9 (Elysium helps Frostleaf get along with Dur-Nar) Volume 6: Ch. 1 (Whisperain opens up to others) [this one isn't MTL'd afaik]

123 Rhodes Island: (Mangadex)

A series of non-canon gag 4komas! Many of the games' offical stickers are done in this series' art style.

Arknights: Operators!: (Mangadex)

A compilation of 4komas posted on the official ArknightsJP twitter account! Thank you to @sleepywoodscans for their work on translating these, please show them some love!!

[Edit: For clarities sake, the only stuff here that has used MTL is later chapters of the Comic Anthology! Sleepywoodscans’ work on Operators! is all done by hand (they’re a native Japanese speaker). Again, I really appreciate their work!]

Arknights: A1 Operations Preparation Detachment: (Mangadex)

Part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focusing on Fang, Kroos and Beagle, and a catastrophe striking the Columbian city of Tkaronto. Unfortunately, only translated up to Chapter 6, but one of the characters (Elba) has a brief cameo in Light Sparks in Darkness! Edit: Chapter 7 has been translated by @pooce-art, and they're working on Chapter 8!

Angelina: Sketches of THIS Messenger's Journey: (Mangadex)

Also published as part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focuses on the adventures of Angelina travelling across Terra as a Messenger! Recent chapters relate to the upcoming Sami event & IS4, as well as the upcoming So Long, Adele.

Prelude Suite: Unrestrained Play: (Wiki)

Unfortunately, I can't find a full translation for this one - an epilogue to Hortus De Esscapismo focusing on Arturia's background. Of course, major spoilers for Hortus apply - if you can find a full translation yourself.

As well, an upcoming manhua focused on the Break the Ice cast was annouced during the 4.5 Anniversary stream. As far as I'm aware, chapters have not begun releasing yet!

Other:

Arknights Ambience Synesthesia: (Youtube)

A series of concerts (3 so far), focusing around Arknights' music! A live performance has been done every year, with skins released in-game for the concert's theme & 3D animations produced featuring the skin's cast in 2022 and 2023.

Monster Siren Records: (Spotify) (Official Website)

Arknights' official (and-in-universe) record label publishing game OSTs, themes for almost every 6 star operator that releases, and occasional bonus songs.

Arknights: Endfield: (Twitter)

An upcoming 3D action gacha game from Hypergryph, set in the far future of Arknights' universe on another planet. Currently in closed beta testing for their CN servers!

Arknights: Nomad City: The Founders: (Youtube)

A to-be-released CN Arknights board game! Unclear of if it will ever be translated or released globally, unfortunately...

Terra: A Journey: (Wiki)

An upcoming CN lore book focused on the intricate details of Terra's worldbuilding. As well, unclear if it will be translated or released globally.

UNOFFICIAL:

Some fandom-developed tools that might be of use to you are the Arknights Terra Wiki - which just transferred from FANDOM to wiki.gg, and has very detailed information on both game mechanics and world-lore.

As well, the Arknights Story Reader can help you catch up on stuff you don't want to or can't read in game!

Finally, Aceship's Toolbox provides access to a variety of tools, including a levelling calculator, a calculator to ensure the best recruitments, and all the CGs, backgrounds and character sprites that are avaliable in-game.

Conclusion:

Thank you for reading! I hope this provided some new information to you or at least provides an easy reference resource in the future. There's a lot to check out even outside of the game, and I hope you find some stuff you enjoy!

#arknights #ohhhh my god this took way longer to write than expected #dont want to reblog beg but they would be greatly appreciated! #take care with the mangadex & non-offical links #I can't guarantee their safety #i could've sworn who is real had a 3d trailer but it mightve been an ambience synthesia vid

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 1/? 3.5k Series Masterlist

✏︎ Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him.

Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, perv!eddie, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

A/N: I've poured my heart and soul into this one.

Fourth period English was the only class that Eddie Munson could seem to pay attention in, though not exactly to the lessons. 

He propped his cheek against his knuckles as he watched you from the back of the classroom.

“See, everything is filtered through Holden’s limited first person narration, so we get really pure insight into how he sees the world, but we also have to take it with a grain of salt,” you said, delicate heels clicking against the tile floor as you paced back and forth. “We see what he pays attention to, and therefore what we ought to pay attention to as readers.”

Eddie’s eyes traced the curve of your waist, over the back of your tweed pencil skirt as you turned to place the chalk back on the ledge at the bottom of the board. It was hugging you in all the right places, as it did every time you wore it. His favorite.

“Alright let’s break out the quotes and notes assignment from chapter ten. Who would like to share their thoughts on a quote with the class?” 

Your eyes scanned the room. Students shifted in their chairs in an awkward silence before a hand shot up in the front row. 

“Nancy,” you smiled and gestured to her, “Take the floor.” 

“Ok so one of the quotes I picked out was where he says ‘I damn near gave my kid sister Phoebe a buzz, though. I certainly felt like talking to her on the phone. Someone with sense and all.’ I think it’s really interesting that he says that she has sense,” said Nancy.

Eddie barely registered a word of what Nancy said. He was too transfixed on your shirt, the way the fabric parted at the buttons when you leaned in just the right way. Sometimes if he was lucky he could catch a flash of skin, a glimpse of delicate lace from your bra. It almost made him wish he would have picked a seat closer to the front of the class. 

Nancy continued. “Right now he’s surrounded by very mature things at the hotel that he’s trying to make sense of and has really negative opinions about. He keeps thinking of his little sister though, and that’s always positive, so that’s in contrast to the rest of what’s going on.”

“Thank you, Nancy, that’s exactly right. A juxtaposition, very perceptive of you.”

Eddie shifted in his seat, feeling his pants start to tighten. 

“Does anyone else have a quote they’d like to share their thoughts on with the class?”

Chairs creaked, a few legs scooted loudly against the floor in the restless silence. A sniffle.

“Come on, Nancy can’t carry this entire class.” You tapped your fingers on the desk behind you. “Well, I know she could but I’m not going to let her,” you said, giving her a little wink.

Still silence. 

“Alright, fine.” You glanced around at the rows of averted eyes until yours settled on the young man in the leather jacket seated at the very back far right corner of the classroom. “Eddie,” you said with a gentle smile. 

His dark eyes shot up, face flushing. 

“Do you have any thoughts on what you read in chapter ten last night?”

Eddie licked his lips, casting his eyes downward in thought. “I uh,” his mouth was like cotton, “No I don’t really think I… understood the chapter,” he said, giving a sheepish grin. The soft pout of disappointment on your pretty lips made his stomach drop.

“I don’t think he can even read the chapter,” muttered the blonde athlete in the seat next to him.  

“Jason,” you began, but Eddie didn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t think you can even read your girlfriend,” he said, to which the class awakened audibly.

Jason shot daggers at Eddie. “Why don’t you quit talking to her and find a girlfriend closer to your  age, huh? There’s plenty at the senior home across the street.”

The class erupted in laughter.

“Stop it, both of you!” you shouted over the din. “The next person to make another sound has detention,” you said sternly. The class grew quiet again, allowing space for your voice to soften. “Eddie, please see me after class.”

“Oooh,” mocked Jason as he sat back and laughed.

“Jason, detention.”

“What? No!”

“I told you, the next person to speak has detention. I don’t make idle threats.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as he watched you command the room.

“Please,” Jason begged,  “It’s the last practice before the game tomorrow.”

“No. You can use your time in detention to work on practicing some self control.”

Jason huffed and shot Eddie another glare but Eddie’s eyes were fixed on his desk, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his face contorted. It took all of his strength to bite back a laugh.

You sighed and leaned back on your desk at the front of the classroom. “Now then,” you started, composing yourself, “I’ll be very curious to read all of your assigned journal entries from this chapter, since clearly so many of you have something to say.”

Chairs shifted. A cough.

“Alright, pass them forward,” you said, gesturing to the class. 

The room was filled with the sound of sheets being torn from notebooks, binders opening, paper shuffling. The students passed the pages forward up the four rows and you walked by to collect them.

“Why don’t we spend the last fifteen minutes of class silently reading the book, hm? Then maybe tomorrow we might have something to talk about.”

You returned to sit at your desk with the papers as the students opened up their books. 

Eddie dug his beat up copy of The Catcher in the Rye out of the mess of his backpack. The red, soft cover spine was beginning to peel away from abuse.

He opened it up to a random page and began to gloss over the words but none of them registered. His mind was too full of other images — the arch of your back, the way you toyed at your lips with your finger in thought, of what you would look like bent over that desk of yours with him on top of you.

Fifteen minutes passed like this. The bell rang. 

Eddie waited in his seat as the other students filed out of the classroom, turning to bury the book in his backpack in an effort to avoid Jason, but it didn’t matter.

“Watch it, freak. I mean it, I’ve got my eyes on you,” said Jason, to which Eddie simply raised his eyebrows in mock fear.

After the last student left, Eddie slowly approached you, dragging his feet a little as he walked. 

You swiped the last of the chalk from the board with the eraser, leaving a small cloud of dust as you turned to face him. 

“Sorry for the outburst today.” The chain on his wrist rattled as he brought a hand to his chest, “I meant no disrespect,” he said earnestly. “Well, I did to Jason, but never to you.”

You returned a soft smile, “Thanks, I appreciate the apology even though I can see that you weren’t exactly the instigator.” 

“Yeah, well, Jason, like any basic primate, seems to think that any male who comes within three feet of his mate is a threat.”

A snort escaped you. Basic primate.  

Eddie’s eyes crinkled, his smile contagious. “Besides, Chrissy’s the one who came over to talk to me anyway.”  

You sighed and shook your head, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, I know, I’ll stop.”

You gave him a gracious look and took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Eddie,” you started.

His mouth curved ever so slightly as he relished in the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“We’ve been in class for about a month now,” you began, “You haven’t turned in an assignment in the last two weeks.”

Eddie scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“Now I might be new to teaching here, but I know this isn’t your first time in this class, nor your second. Clearly there must be some part of you that wants to graduate, or else you would have just dropped out two years ago, right?” you asked, searching his eyes. “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who does anything they don’t want to do.”

Eddie smirked, “It’s only been a month and you already know me so well, miss.”

There was something about the way that he said it that brought a heat to your cheeks. You tucked your hair behind your ear in an attempt to hide it. “Well, what do you think we can do about this little conundrum then? I don’t want to see you fail.” 

“I dunno, maybe I just… need a little help?” he said sheepishly.  

You hummed, bringing a curved finger to your lips in thought. “I want to help you, but you have to be willing to put in some effort.”

“I know, I’ve been totally slacking. That’s on me. I can change that,” he said assuredly, “I promise.”

You smiled softly at his earnestness. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, I would be open to tutoring you. I have some time after school today if you want to stop by my classroom, we can come up with a game plan then.”

Eddie’s dark eyes widened at the suggestion, “I’d appreciate that very much, miss.”

You gave a nod, “Sure thing. I’ll see you after school then. I’ll be here.”

 “See ya later,” he said, grabbing his well worn backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Oh, and,” he turned back toward you, closing the distance between you even further. His eyes lingered over your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze again, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you half whispered.

You turned toward your desk to gather the papers in as neat a pile as you could manage with the frayed edges left by spiral notebooks and placed them in your fourth period grading folder. The bell rang out again through the halls signaling lunch period. You grabbed your purse from under your desk and closed the classroom door behind you. 

Walking through the halls of Hawkins High was like a strange recurring dream. Same drop ceiling, same tile floor. Same weird smell when you walked past the science room. The same cliques too — the jocks, the burnouts, the party animals. This time with less bell bottoms and fringe, more leg warmers and hairspray. Surprisingly little had changed. 

You opened the door to the teacher’s lounge adjacent to the cafeteria. The wood paneled walls and old carpet were much less familiar to you than the hallways and classrooms you had spent countless hours in. It was strange to be on this side of things now.

“How’s your day going so far, sweetie?” chimed Ms. Click, putting the glass coffee pot back on the warmer. 

“Oh, you know, just another day of pulling teeth from my class. I swear Nancy Wheeler was the only one who read the chapter last night.”

A swoon swept across the room. “Oh Nancy, she really is such a bright star isn’t she?” Ms. Click remarked, her voice sweet like table sugar.  “You know she kind of reminds me of you when you were her age, doesn’t she, Doris?” 

Doris O’Donnell hummed and pursed her lips with a little nod.

“Well, smarts-wise anyway. Boy I try not to pick favorites but you certainly were a pleasure to have in class. If I’m remembering right you were valedictorian, weren’t you?” 

You offered a weak smile, “Yep, class of ’74.”

“’74? Goodness it hasn’t been that long has it? Gosh we sure are getting old aren’t we?” she called over to Ms. O’Donnell, the beads on her glasses chain rattling as she laughed, “Oh goodness I don’t mean you sweetie,” she said, putting her hand on yours reassuringly, “Heck if I didn’t know you I would have mistaken you for a student!”

“Thank you Ms. — I mean Peggy.” You grabbed a mug from the stack and turned it over in your hands. #1 Teacher. The matte apple and text printed on the front of it was fading with age. You filled it with coffee and and grabbed a small open milk carton sitting nearby, watching the cream swirl in the mug before taking a seat at one of the three round tables with plastic veneer to look like wood. 

“Gosh, you know I don’t mean to pry, but with such a pretty face to match the good head on your shoulders I would have thought you’d have a different last name by now.”

You stared into your coffee, feeling the ghost of the ring on your finger. “Ah, yeah. Almost, but… it didn’t work out.” 

“Oh — I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s um — it’s fine.”

“You know there’s plenty of lovely young bachelors at St. Michael’s, we’re having a potluck tonight if you want to come.” 

It took all of your strength to hide a visible grimace. Sounds delightful. “No thanks, I can’t. I’ve offered to tutor a student after school today.”

“Who might that be?” asked Ms. Click.

“Eddie Munson.” 

The whole room groaned. 

Ms. O’Donnell cackled from her corner, her toad-like face contorting. “Good luck. I’ve been stuck with him for the last three years. Honestly I don’t know why he’s still in school. He’s too old to be here anymore if you ask me.”

Your eyes shot up from your coffee. “Well, he must have some desire to be here or otherwise he wouldn’t be. Isn’t it our duty as teachers to help students achieve milestones?” 

Ms. O’Donnell huffed, “Oh yeah, he needs help alright. None that I can give him though.” 

“I can imagine that help would be a difficult thing to offer while putting him down.”

She snorted, “Sure sweetie. Say some magic words of encouragement, that’ll do the trick. Hey, pick me up a little fairy dust too while you’re at it.” 

Laughter rang out across the teachers lounge.

Your lips formed a hard line as you popped open the tupperware container which held your salad.  

“Keep us posted, will you? We’re all dying to know how it goes.”

______

You could hear the lockers slamming shut as the din in the hallway began to die down, students filtering out with the last bell of the day. You flipped through the pile of notebook papers on your desk, making small notes on each one with a green pen before setting them onto the neat pile in front of you. You never liked to use red, too harsh. 

There was a strange feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake. You wondered if perhaps the chicken on your salad had sat in the fridge for a few days too many. 

Your eyes shot up from your papers as you heard footsteps at the door. “Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie flashed you a smile and a little wave as he dragged a chair from the far corner of the room to the empty spot across from you and plunked himself down in it.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Oh, you know, just another day in suburban paradise.”

You chuckled dryly, “Yeah, you could say that again.”

Eddie fiddled with his rings, twisting them as he looked at you with those big dark eyes.

“So first off, let’s talk about the book we’re reading in class. Have you read any of it?”

“I did read the first few chapters, kind of lost interest though, sorry,” he admitted.

You nodded curtly. “The Catcher in the Rye seems to be a fairly polarizing book from my experience. Some students love it, others hate it. I myself am in the former camp, of course. I tend to find that most of the people who don’t like it just don’t quite understand it.”

Eddie gave a short puff of air through his nose. “I could say the same thing about most of the shit I’m interested in.”  

You smiled sympathetically. “Is reading not really your thing?”

“Actually, contrary to the opinion of a certain primate, I do like to read.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Like what?”

“Fantasy mostly, The Lord of the Rings, really anything Tolkien writes. I’ve read those books a few times through actually,” he said, “Probably kind of stupid to read the same thing over and over when you could be reading other things, but — ”

“No, that’s not stupid at all! I’ve read them more than once too, actually.” Your eyes were sparkling. “They’re some of my favorites.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. “You? A geek? Never would have guessed.”

You smirked at him. You couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. “Actually incorporating world building with storytelling the way that Tolkien does is something I’ve always tried to emulate in my own writing.”

“Your own writing?” Eddie shifted in his chair, leaning in.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, glancing downward, wishing you could suck the words back into your mouth.  

“You write books?”

“I… don’t know if you could quite call them books if they aren’t published, or totally finished but — I do like to write stories.”

Eddie’s eyes were enormous. “Can I read them? Oh please let me read them.”

The heat was back in your cheeks again. “Oh jeez, I don’t know, it’s been ages since I’ve even looked at them myself.”

Eddie leaned in even more, his elbows on the desk. “Come on,” his smile was so disarming, “What,  you think I’m gonna like, judge you or something?”

You looked down at the papers you were grading and clicked the pen in your hand. “I don’t know, writing is such an oddly… personal thing.” 

“Please? You know I’m like the last person to be passing judgement on something like that, right?”

You sighed. His eyes were big, and wet, and pleading and you cursed yourself for being stirred by them. “Ok, how about this, if you can get your grades up, get at least a B in one of your classes, I’ll let you read one of my stories.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. “Challenge accepted.”

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you met his smile, “Whatever motivates you,” you said trying not to think too hard about the implications of the deal you just made. “You know, what I really want to talk about is the creative writing assignment you turned in the first week of class.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”  

“No! Actually not bad at all. Actually quite good. You’re very creative, Eddie.”

“Oh is that what they’re calling it these days?” he deflected.

“No, I’m serious. You’ve written stories before, haven’t you?”

“Well, I am the dungeon master for my DnD club.”

You squinted your eyes curiously at him.

“Oh! So basically, I come up with the plot of the story that they players are going to play. I create the world essentially, lead them through the story. Well, to some extent. The monsters are all from a guidebook but the plot is all me.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Creativity and leadership.”

Eddie chuckled and scratched the back of his head to distract from the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, doesn’t change the fact that I’m 20 years old and still in high school.”

���About that,” you started, “Why do you want to graduate? Maybe if you can identify the reason for reaching your goal, then you can find the motivation to work toward it. Besides wanting to read my stories anyway, like a personal reason.”

Eddie sat back in his chair for a moment, biting his lip in thought. “Uhh, maybe to prove all the assholes in this god forsaken purgatory wrong?”

You laughed, probably a bit too hard. “I think that’s an excellent reason.”

Eddie beamed. “See, I knew I liked you.”

You coyly returned his smile and fidgeted with the pen in your hand again. “Let’s figure out a day or two when we can meet weekly. Got any after school conflicts?”

“My band plays at the Hideout Tuesday nights, Fridays I’ve got Hellfire Club.”

“How about Mondays and Wednesdays then? Does that work for you?”

“Sure does.”

“Great, and I can help you with other classes too, to the best of my ability anyway. Show you how best to study, how to approach papers and essays — that sort of stuff.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said softly.

 The feeling in your stomach was back again. “Me too.”

______

Thank you so much for reading, tons more to come! Comments and reblogs keep me going! 🙏

Tag list: @ooo-protean-ooo @toxicjayhoo @mermaidsandcats29 @jadequeen88 @msgexymunson @wroteclassicaly @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi @kissmyacdc @cherry-vamps @willgrahamspsycheval

There are some of you are on this list who I talked to about this months ago! Sorry it took me a while to get this up but I’ve spent the last month outlining this monstrosity. That’s mostly out of the way now so updates should be pretty regular, like once a week. 💕

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader #my writing #Eddie munson older reader

[not-poignant]

Raphael has a very poetic and grandiose way of speaking that is absolutely not the norm for day-to-day life. How do you get in the mindset to come up with his dialogues? They're perfection and I just can't even imagine how long it would take to do one paragraph of the way he talks, but you're writing an entire story with him...

Oh I love this question because I can answer it, lol sadlkjfsda

Okay so, Raphael's character is tough for me.

Normally I do a lot of dialogue research before starting to write a character in fanfiction and original fiction, but Raphael actually gets proportionately very few lines that really show his full emotional range (compared to say, Astarion), and he's got an incredibly specific way of talking that sounds similar to Astarion but at the same time is very different.

They share enough similarities (calling people darling and dear for example) that it's easy to fall into the trap of giving them the same 'voice.'

I find Astarion's voice a lot easier to 'get' and I feel like I can hear him better when I'm writing him. But Raphael I'm taking into emotional spaces we simply never see in the game, and then I have to really guess how he'd sound (like coming up with the idea that the theatricality vanishes when Raphael is genuinely panicking).

I ended up listening to a lot of interviews with Andrew Wincott, the Voice Actor for Raphael who is an incredible actor and extremely articulate. He was very clear in one of his interviews that one of the reasons he was selected to play Raphael was because, in part, he already sounded like him. Obviously there's differences / skill in changing cadence and more, but for the most part, Andrew Wincott uses similar vocabulary and talks in a similar manner to Raphael naturally, so I had an abundance of interviews that I could then listen to in order to get a feel for Raphael's voice. I picked the things that felt more 'Raphael' and added them to my dialogue notes.

I often have to go back and edit Raphael's dialogue. Sometimes it's very simple things, I had him say 'much more' in the chapter I'm editing right now, and I edited it to 'far more' because I think he'd just phrase it like that. Sometimes I expand a sentence into an entire paragraph.

I've also leaned a lot from Korilla's transcripts in the game, which have been super useful. They really cement, more than anything, how much he loves lullabies, nursery rhymes, children's tales and more.

HOW TO DO DIALOGUE RESEARCH:-

If you're new to dialogue research, it mostly involves listening to - and watching a character and then literally taking notes of how they talk. The things you observe are:

The tone of their voice - Fast or slow. Loud or soft. Musical or flat. Theatrical or matter-of-fact. High or low. Questioning or complete statements. Considered or hedging (i.e. very well constructed sentences, or a lot of pauses, ellipses, broken sentences). Rambling or concise.

How often they talk - Some characters actually say a lot with very little. Raphael is actually a lot of observation and facial expressions and eyebrow movements in between his dialogue. Little smirks, hand gestures and more. Do they interrupt or let people finish their sentences? Are they comfortable with silence? I find Raphael oscillates between long theatrical paragraphs, single sentences or words, and then a lot of silence. He's actually not very conversational, in that you can have a conversation with him, but I doubt he'd see the point of two hours of small-talk. (At this point you might be realising that dialogue research is also character research, how a character talks tells you so much about a character.)

The words (and metaphors/subjects) they use - This is a big one and I'm going to break this down a little bit more:

How they pause if they don't know what to say. Is it 'um' 'uh' 'ah' 'hm' 'mm' 'mn' or nothing at all (or something else) because they've mastered self-control over their dialogue? If Raphael says 'ah' he does so on purpose.

Filler words. Things like characters saying 'like' in a sentence. 'He was like, 'I can't believe it'' etc. This is very similar to how they pause, but it's the things people say to get from point A to point B. People who don't do this have often had training or think very hard about what they're going to say before they say it. But people say 'like' or 'and then' or 'well' or 'i realised that' or 'i thought that' etc. to carry them on. Some are more acceptable than others (people do just have realisations for example).

Profanity. How often do they swear, and how intentional is it? Some characters only swear when they get hurt or stub their toe or get angry. Some characters swear all the time for fun. Some characters only use some swear words and not others. Be specific. Be aware that some swear words are cultural! This includes blasphemy. In Faerun they use 'gods' and 'gods damn it' more often than we use 'god' or 'oh my god.'

Vulgarity. This is useful for Raphael (and Astarion) because he's very happy to be vulgar. This is like... how comfortable are they talking about sex, about sexual subjects, being crude, being seductive, flirtatious? And if they use it, do they use vulgarity to shock, seduce, scare, threaten, or for humour?

Salutations and farewells. How do they greet people? Silence? A calm hello? (A lot of greetings are omitted in dialogue but this is still good to know). How do they say hello, goodbye. How does that change between friends and enemies and strangers?

Single word sentences. This might sound weird, but sometimes when a character hears something that shocks them, or needs to acknowledge something, they may say anything from 'huh' to 'yeah' to 'fuck' to 'okay' to 'all right' to 'sure' to 'go on' to 'indeed' to just laughing out loud. The list goes on. Raphael is team 'indeed' lmao.

Sentence structure. Raphael's sentence structure is - when he's most comfortable - gently provoking, teasing, vaguely threatening, and makes liberal use of simile, metaphor, fairy tale, rhyme, sayings, colloquialisms and more. Raphael talks like someone who knows someone could quote him at any moment lmao. But from here, how a character structures their sentences can be helpful to know. Go back to 'the tone of their voice.' Those notes will give you an idea of structure.

Emotionality. How emotional are they? Do they have rage rants? Joyful giggling dialogue? Do they infodump with little emotion? Or with sheer excitement? Does their dialogue feel fake or real? Opaque or transparent? Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves, and others will never be able to say 'I love you' in anything other than actions. Raphael's emotionality in dialogue is more present in his anger and irritation, and also when he feels triumphant and/or turned on.

The symbols, sayings, colloquialisms and metaphors themselves. Not all characters use these. But some people/characters will talk through analogies, colloquialisms. This is actually Raphael's biggest dialogue departure from Astarion, imho, aside from the fact that Astarion is a lot more emotional with his dialogue.

Take into account their culture, ethnicity, conceits, upbringing, education and the people they're close to:

This one is vital. Firstly, some people tend to 'absorb' elements of those around them. A person raised by affluent people will often 'sound affluent' and a person raised in poverty will often have dialogue that reflects this and if they don't there will be reasons for that. It might be a conceit (some people self-teach themselves different accents), it might be education, it might be training, it might be the subculture/s they've entered into, and so on.

~

When doing this research, you'll end up with a kind of master-list of actual words and probably some sentences you've written down, along with a lot of notes. You can also do this for any original characters you're making at all, you're just then making it up based on the character, and this research will also give in many ways the shape of the character.

It's a fun exercise and I highly recommend everyone tries it literally for people who don't exist and also observe your friends and family, and do a dialogue cheat sheet for some of them. It's pretty eye-opening! Even one page will teach you more than nothing at all. You can go deep and write many pages, or you can do what I do and keep it lean at 2 pages. Anyone who struggles with characterisation I suggest at least try this exercise, because anyone can put on a YouTube video and/or streaming service or even a favourite Tiktoker and start doing dialogue research! It's a way of building a character from the top down while also getting information about their foundations.

#asks and answers #pia on dialogue #pia on characterisation #pia on writing #reference #on writing #writing techniques #writing advice #dodgy advice #i might just take the second 'how to' part and make it its own post #but anyway here's how to do it!

[peachy-cheeks]

Defined

ch: 1 | 2 | 3

synopsis: you and nanami are coworkers and former friends with benefits grappling with the decision to consciously uncouple as a non-couple (aka stop doing each other)

word count: 1,937 words

characters: nanami kento x gn!reader

warnings: angsty kinda, slight sexual mentions this chapter

a/n: i was gonna talk a bunch here about clarifying intentions, labels and titles meaning things, etc. but i thought that was entirely too much... i imagine if you've been anywhere on the fwb/situationship spectrum then you'll just get the gist of it all

"With this, there was no dating. No tender moments in public or meeting family. And no telling coworkers... absolutely not. The closest semblance to a normal partnership was the rare mission assigned together. The ones you both went on afar from Tokyo, apart from the blood and guts, felt a bit like little vacations.

But even if his hands fell onto and held your waist a certain way. Or if his teeth tugged your bottom lip as his to claim. Even with the smiles that bookended your meetings of intimately learning the other's weaknesses. This was not that kind of relationship."

Violet with dying rays of orange and pink melted into the growing spread of navy sky. The moon always seemed to look brighter up north.

So many mundane blessings clicked for you in moments like these. The daily changes in the sky, the gentle crumble and cushion of leaves beneath your sore soles, an intact spine... it all felt so nice. Normal miracles.

Lucky, some would say. You were lucky to experience those blessings.

"Ah, so you're headed to Hiraizumi?" "Yeah well, nearby. There've been quite a few disappearances near the Satetsu river. I've never been but it seems fairly quiet there otherwise." "It's pretty... beautiful really. But you'll want to be careful up there. Lots of concentrated energy." "Of course. I'm looking forward to it." "Try not to take offense to this, but who'll be going with you? I don't imagine they'd send anyone near there alone unless it was Gojo." "Well, I'll be with Nanami... we've worked together a couple of times. I think we get along just fine. Should go fine." "Aren't you lucky..." "Mmm." "Seriously though, be careful. For them to assign a grade 1 and semi grade 1 on a single assignment. Sounds like they don't even know how big of a problem it really could be." "Right... you sure you don't wanna swap places with me, Kusakabe?" "Don't make me laugh. Try to come back in one piece."

Last week's conversation played in your head while you gradually retreated from the wilderness toward the nearest town. The replay was a welcomed distraction from the internal and external bruises that slowed your pace. It also took away from the freshly-made replay of you nearly being split into pieces by the wickedly sharp appendages of the curse you faced not even an hour before.

"Nanami?" "...Yes?" "Thank you... for watching my back there."

Met with silence, not that you were expecting much. An expression of gratitude is a hard conversation point for someone unenthused to relish in their own good deeds. Because he was there, your near-fate was returned to its sender. As planned, the 7:3 Sorcerer's dull blade tore apart the sickened flesh that held the curse together. No rumination of the act on his part out of politeness, sure, but more so out of professionalism.

His position, tried and true, was simple: what kind of sorcerer would he be if he stood by and allowed you to be decapitated by a curse mere feet away from him?

'I need to work on my reaction time...' Who doesn't? You're at the best that you've known yourself at. 'I'm sorry for being a burden...' Fuck no. That doesn't make sense and it sounds pathetic.

Thoughts trailed off as your steps continued. 'Just leave it...' A breeze slapped against your cheeks and your adrenaline continued to fall.

Even now, the silent air between you both was not uncomfortable. Though, it never usually was. Besides, many sorcerers pray for minutes of peace to grow into hours, days, and months. Most find the time after intense combat to be the purest form of peace; from one extreme to its polar opposite in seconds. Colors, light, scents, and temperature all came through so much clearer... more precise in those after moments.

Auras too... and his captivated you. It had for so, so long, but in the duration of your relationship you had rarely seen this particular quick swell, bright glow, and slow decompression. Witnessing it made you grateful.

Strong. By nature and nurture, his strength was hardwired into his body, mind, and soul. It struck a perfect balance with his kindness, something unwavering that you witnessed the moment you ran into him years ago (literally, by immaculate chance) as a salary man.

Kindness and strength, just two of his many traits that defined the humanity you adored. Steady in your meeting, brief union, and eventual break. At every stage, it was never difficult to find Nanami admirable.

“There’s no way they properly considered the risk of this assignment."

What were you two talking about again? Oh—

"Yeah. It's odd that they sent us both." "It’s… a disheartening situation.” "..."

You sincerely hoped it wasn't becau—

"...Not because of you..." "Oh, I... I understand."

Of course you understood, it came with your own strength. But surely he could've handled that curse without yo—

"Thank you for your hard work. You created a wide opening for me to assist. I'm not sure I would've been able to do this without you." "...Mm. No problem... me either. I certainly couldn't have done this alone."

Your statement was obvious, as you were covered in far more wounds and marks compared to your coworker. You may have landed more blows against the curse, but he certainly managed to move efficiently and avoid the brunt of what you got.

"Are you feeling faint?" “No… I’m okay. Thanks.”

Maybe faint wasn’t the proper word, but the goosebumps on your skin made it harder to move. Colors, temperature, and that growing navy sky felt colder and colder. Terrible shame that the nearest town was still a 30 minute hike... and that the nearest auxiliary manager was another 20 minutes away.

“Are you sure?” “…Yeah… I’m just a little chilly…”

In a singular, swift motion, the weight of Nanami’s blazer comfortably swallowed your shoulders. Without hesitation, he had removed the layer for your benefit.

“Your adrenaline is dropping.” “T-thank you… thanks... but so is yours. Aren’t you cold?” “My injuries are minor and we don’t have long to go.” “Okay… well... let me know if you want this back at any point.” “I’ll be fine.”

If Nanami was anything, he was an excellent coworker. A professional and selfless team player in every sense. The evening grew cooler and despite the donated layer, the chill sank into your exposed skin and down your bones. 15 more minutes, huh?

"Do you think you can make it for the next-" "Next 15 minutes? Y-yeah, I think so." "..."

You figured, at least until his question made your knees buckle. His ever watchful eyes took in your attempt to conceal a growing limp. Did this curse really fuck you up that bad?

"Hold on."

Nanami placed a firm hand on your shoulder prompting you to pause and repositioned the harness that holstered his weapon from his back to his shoulder.

"If you're comfortable with this, I'll carry you until we reach town. Please don't feel indebted to me, I don't want your injuries to worsen from oversight." "I... Nanami..."

God. First, his coat. Now, his back. What more could he give?

He certainly wasn't being chivalrous to prove a point... was he? What point would he even be making?

Well... how long were you going to make him wait...?

"I don't mean to pressure you..."

Hazel eyes, bare of his glasses, were kind and waiting for your answer. A familiar air of disarming patience carved the cold air between you. Were his eyes always this way when looking towards you? Even now?

"N-no. No, it's... I..."

Deep breath... okay.

"Thank you. Thanks... I really appreciate that." "Okay. Just try not to lean back, I might lose my balance."

He wouldn't, you both knew, but the warning put you at ease. You smiled, nearly drawing out a teasing quip in response. As gently and respectfully as possible, you made your way onto Nanami's back. Your body was pressed flatly against the broad, dense surface of his. With sturdy arms roped around the plush of your thighs that rested on both sides of his waist, he resumed a slower pace.

The bob of his walk complimented the steady rhythm of his heart, both of which reverberated through your own chest making you wish you could sink into him. The newfound warmth soothed the growing aches and you slipped into sleep. No matter how hard you tried, your body could never forget the comfort that his brought you.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea..." "...Sure." I guess the illusion of this fantasy had finally caught up to you two. Five months of willingly bending your own limits, testing the line of professionalism and personal boundaries. Neither of you would've ever sought out another sorcerer as a long-term partner. Sort of stupid to think that indulging in each other carnally would be a sustainable form of healing. With this, there was no dating. No tender moments in public or meeting family. And no telling coworkers... absolutely not. The closest semblance to a normal partnership was the rare mission assigned together. The ones you both went on afar from Tokyo, apart from the blood and guts, felt a bit like little vacations. But even if his hands fell onto and held your waist a certain way. Or if his teeth tugged your bottom lip as his to claim. Even with the smiles that bookended your meetings of intimately learning the other's weaknesses. This was not that kind of relationship. "I don't regret where we are. But being like this might do more harm than good longterm." What an incredibly stupid conversation to have in bed. And what a crazy thing for him to say with his lips still pressed to your neck. "Kento... I don't think we were planning on doing this forever, right?" So why do this in the first place? Maybe he doesn't need a friend (is that what you are?) like you anymore. The sex, itself, was never the problem. If it was, the conversation wouldn't have followed your pleads for him to consume every part of you (and him fulfilling every request.) Pillow talk and waxing poetic about alternative lives or separate futures would eventually run dry. Neither person wanted to escalate beyond where you two comfortably were. Blissfully uncoupled. And as cathartic as it proved, unpacking core memories and histories as a non-couple was... very intimate for the type of relationship you agreed to share. But sometimes you figured you could do this... it all... forever, at lest with him. Not that forever was particularly long for the average career sorcerer anyway. Your own trauma was similar to his own formative heartbreaks, both spoken about in bits and pieces scattered across your time together. Compassion and the embracing calm of your bedroom beckoned Nanami's largely regulated vulnerability. Five months of unlocking each other to see and be seen, if only for a few hours. Maybe what you both really needed was a good therapist? "Hey... Kento?" "Yes?" "Do you still want to work together?" "Of course... but I think we'll need distance." "Of course. Yeah... ok. Ok... just don't treat me like a stranger." "I never will."

Of course. Responsibility was never solely about physical strength, but about balancing the variables: endurance, intuition, experience, maybe even spite at times… but, most importantly, care. And he was always so responsible.

A responsible, capable, and careful man would do what he could to protect you. How cruel would it be for him to suddenly change when your heart had been so close to his, then and now? Of course a responsible man would carry you when you were down and he'd even let you dampen his shoulder with your tears, awake or not. Naturally, he'd let you grieve what should have been let go.

For the sake of work, sanity, and your friendship.

So here you two were. Nearly five more months down the line since your last meeting. And as much as the partnership changed, the players stayed the same. Accepting another rare assignment together, but with the new goal of making it unremarkable. Just work. Open and closed, with no strings attached.

#jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #gn reader #jjk angst

[just-some-random-blogger]

Want You Dead II

Daemon Targaryen x Pirate!Reader | Part 1 2 3

Summary: Having agreed to Lord Corlys' terms, you were now slowly being restored into your house, just how Prince Daemon intended things to be. He was pleased that no matter how the days passed, your ascent to nobility did not erase the traits that made you a good pirate. However, he should have known your fire would draw men to you like moths. But gods be damned if he allows anyone else hold your flame.

Word Count: 17k+

Warnings: mentions of assault/rape, graphic depictions of violence, sexual implications fem!reader, ADDITIONAL PAIRINGS (wink, wink), super slow burn (and i still hate myself it), made up characters and lore, time skips, mangled timeline, themes of betrayal, angst, curse words, misogyny, parts with fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: yeah so like i am highly certain im making a part 3 so 🤡 so much for two really long chapters. I'm also pretty sure I messed up the timeline in this chapter, specifically regarding the ages of Alicient's children. Just roll with it mkay! Don't think about it too much.

Make sure to leave comments and reblogs!! If you would like to be tagged, just say the word <3.

Taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @idathereader @deekaag @how2besalty @niiight-dreamerrrr @wondergal2001

"WHO THE FUCK WAS ON NIGHTSHIFT?!" the prince erupted the very moment he kicked the guardhouse doors open.

The prince was known to be unhinged. It was not uncommon for him to arrive somewhere unannounced, demanding audience or answers. And yet in this moment, there was a roar of a dragon many of the men had not yet seen. There was a fire in his eyes that could only be put out with blood. And whatever it was the men were doing before Daemon arrived was quickly forgotten or abandoned.

The prince heaved at the silence and shoved the nearest man next to him out of anger, letting out a prolonged shout, "ANSWER ME!"

As the man who fell on the ground gathered himself up, Daemon took a sword from one of the containers and raises it as his ears practically steam, "YOU WILL BRING EVERY MAN THAT WAS ON THE NIGHTSHIT TO ME IN AN HOUR, OR--" he cuts himself off, the vein on his neck relaxed finally, "I shall find them myself and slay them with no explanation."

His jaw clenches as he mutters lowly, looking at each face in the room, "am I understood?"

There is a chorus of agreement.

Daemon throws the sword on the the ground and storms off.

I was in the ward, my eyes were heavy as was my body, and yet sleep would not come to me. The maesters made it clear to me, and Lord Corlys, who was present the entire time I was being tended to, that I should not leave my bed for a week unless absolutely necessary.

I was glad at the very least that I was situated next to a window where I could see the outside. In this moment, I was watching the sun set, wondering why in the silence of this room, my thoughts were so loud that I could find no peace in resting. Now that the horror had been addressed, now that I recounted what happened and angrily wiped my tears away as I explained I could not fall pregnant because my assaulter only used his fingers on me, I felt my fatigue catch up with me, that, and the memory similar incident I had at 13 that was never addressed.

Agatha, the woman I regarded as my mother, had just given birth to her second child at this point, Abigail. Her eldest child, William, was about only 3. Douglas, her husband, my adoptive father, had been out for work when three lords came to our house, asking about my necklace, asking about me.

At first, they said they knew my father, lord Rubin, and wanted to help me reclaim my title. Agatha turned them away, denying their words, which made them call her a lying whore, for I was clearly not her child.

They returned again and again, but eventually, they returned in the darkness of night. They tried to take me as I bathed and tried to touch me where I would not allow. They clawed for me still and laughed while they did. The only reason I still came a virgin at that time was because my father heard my screams and managed to fight them off with the help of our neighbors.

I ran away from home after that, feeling I was undeserving of Agatha and Douglas' protection, not only because I was bringing trouble to them, but as well as the fact I believed I had been made unclean by those lords disgusting fingers.

Tears stream down my face as I think of my parents and how badly they probably felt after I ran away.

I was lying in my bed, limp, yet my whole body burned in anger for my younger self. She was filled with self-loathing because she believed it was her fault. She thought thoughts like had she not been there, had she been stronger... but that was never the case. It matters not if you were careful, evil intent will prevail where evil is allowed to fester. In hearts of those evil men it has festered.

I hope they're all dead now.

My thoughts made a bitterness rise in my throat that I had not tasted in a long time. My anger was ugly, and fully draining.

Yet still... slumber shuns me away.

There is a noise far off by the entrance suddenly. I vaguely hear two voices, but think nothing of it. Upon hearing a loud voice echo in the room however, it is much harder to ignore. I my hands to my ears, suddenly preferring the noise in my head than the one starting in the room.

"Your grace! I implore- she cannot-"

"Or would you rather I stuff each soldier in here with their crusty boots and body odor?" the telltale voice of an angry Prince Daemon quips harshly.

For a moment there is silence. I release a sigh and place my hands by my side. I close my eyes, relishing in the sound of nothing. But then I hear footsteps headed towards me and I then begin wonder if it would be better if I pretend to be asleep.

I feel him stand beside my bed. I hear the clanking of his armor, "my lady Rubin."

I do not respond to him.

"Do not ignore me. The maester told me you could not find sleep."

I press my lips before responding. My voice was still hoarse even after drinking a tea that was meant to help with it, "you are aware in order to fall asleep, you must pretend to be asleep first."

"I have summoned all the men in the nightshift to arrive in an hour," he speaks plainly, "if your rapist is not there, then I will have those guards find him and bring him here within the evening. If they fail, then I shall kill them all with-"

"No."

Daemon still where he stood. He is so utterly stunned by the word that he cannot even think.

I finally peel my eyes open and behold the prince's expression. I release a tired sigh, "you will not do anything about this matter while I am bedridden."

His armor clad body shivers, he feels sick, "you cannot possibly mean to forgive the shit beneath my boots RAPIST that-"

"DAEMON!" I scream, instantly regretting it because my voice was not any better than it was moments ago. I begin to rattle out into a cough.

Daemon face instantly drops, "water! Someone get some fucking water here!"

A maester comes running in with a tray witch held a pitcher of water and a cup. Daemon grabs the tray from him, dismissing him, then places it on the beside table. He pours me a glass and hands it to me in a way that would not require our skin to touch.

I calm myself and take the cup from him, sitting up slowly. I down the lukewarm water then place the cup on the tray to my side. I look up at Daemon, who's violet eyes were burning.

"Come closer," I whisper in High Valyrian.

Daemon drops to his knees in an instant and I am honestly taken aback by it. I shift in my bed and pat my hand to my side, wordlessly beckoning him. He gives me a hesitant look and yet obliges after a moment.

"May I?" I mutter after he sits, raising my hand out to him.

"You need not ever ask me if I want your touch," he responds in High Valyrian, lowering his gaze upon me, "I have craved it for so long."

I take his hand into mine and lean my head back on the surface behind me, closing my eyes, "my knees betrayed me when I was climbing the stairs with Lord Corlys. And when he touched me in an attempt to help, I jolted and descended down the entire flight."

His voice is loud as he quickly retorts, "he shouldn't have touched-"

"He had to carry me here," I turn to him, slowly opening my eyes.

Daemon grows silent again.

"I couldn't even stand after falling. I was lucky I only got bruises out of it."

"I should have been the one to carry you here instead," he replies in his mother tongue, turning to his lap. His free hand tightly curls into a fist.

"I am not a deer that is meant to be thrown over shoulder."

Daemon turns back to me, "I will have a litter out for you."

"I will not be made a spectacle of."

"THEN WHAT!" he blurts, ripping his hand away as he quickly stands, "what shall you have me do for I will not allow that nothing be done?!"

"Let me rest!" I whimper, feeling my eyes water over how pained my voice and body was, "allow me the courtesy of healing, regaining my strength, and then... I will face the rapist myself."

Daemon's face his hard. He wants to scream, to find satisfaction tonight, and yet he contains all this. He reaches in his pocket, fingers fiddling with the gem he always had with him. He clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth, "what did the vermin look like?"

I release a sigh, as I turn to the blankets around me, tears running down my face, "he had dark hair, dark eyes. He was tall and--" I shudder, "impossibly strong." I suck in a breath, "I scarred him, cheek down to his lips from when I was captured," I turn back to Daemon, who's face contorted upon hearing that. I bring my mind back to the grim moment and open my mouth, "he was wearing a hood. I think it was blu--"

"Enough," he blurts, making me cease my words with a gasp.

Daemon does not enjoy my look of tension, my look of vulnerability, and yet... he could not bring himself to address it. He shifts from where he stands in such a way the necklace hid would remain hidden as he pulls it into his hand, "I will find him tonight. I swear on my life. I will not kill him, but I will hurt him so much that he wish he were dead, but I will keep him alive just enough for you to kill him."

His words ring in my ears like a bell in a tower. The anger inside me was thrilled by the idea, but my mind was so tired that all I could do was look out the window and take in the night sky.

Daemon did not know what he was expecting, but the silence in the room was gnawing at him. He shoves his hand back in his pocket and decided then to simply leave.

When he does, I whip my head to the side and call out to him. My voice is so broken however that not a single sound came out.

Daemon's face was chilling under the light of a torch.

He was sat on a wooden stump in front of some 50 men, all nervous, all eager to know why the prince had thrown a fit towards the men who worked the nightshift. He had a ruby necklace in his hand and his eyes were fixed on the item. His calmness was making the tension around wind even more.

"Caraxes," he calls, barely raising his voice, and yet his dragon obeys the call and comes crying with fury from the roof of the building behind his master.

Now that all the men before him were scared shitless, he allows a few moments to pass, making sure the servants mutter to each other about how angry their prince was before he said another word.

Daemon looks up to his dragon, gripping the ruby before putting it away. He mutters that the Caraxes raise his head and upon doing so, the prince commands, "dracarys."

The night sky is overpowered by fire and each man looks up to in terrified awe of the flames burning overhead. The light finds each of their faces, exposing every detail to Daemon's keen eyes.

He sees then, scar from cheek to lip, on a man who was at the very back. Caraxes closes his mouth with a hiss, allowing the darkness to creep up on everyone again.

Daemon's eyes are fixed on his target, blood boiling at the audacity of him to come here thinking he would not be caught, absolutely outraged that he was feigning innocence and ignorance. Part of him wished that he had run, then he would be justified in chasing him down and cutting his legs off. Even now he prayed the vermin would turn to the prince and be so absolutely terrified that he start running so he could start chasing.

But then he realizes something that makes him stand quickly form his seat. All the men around him still at that.

He chuckles darkly.

Nothing is stopping him from doing just that to him right now.

And so the men watch as the prince strides forward; they were not quick enough to make way for him as Daemon's shoulders bump against their shoulder plates.

He draws his hand out to the man with the scarred face and tugs at his metal collar, "strip yourself."

He is too stunned to even move.

Daemon shakes him, "STRIP YOURSELF!" He throws him down, causing the man to fall to the floor, "Or I will have the whole guardhouse rip that armor off your body."

"My lord," the man whines, "I do not-"

Daemon has his sword pointed at him in but a second, "I would not speak another word, if I wanted to keep my tongue." He watches as the man gets on his knees and shivers. He is enraged by his stillness, "FUCKING STRIP HIM!"

Caraxes screams, feeling the anger of his rider.

The men go upon him and undo his armor. Once he is left in nothing but his pants and his shirt, Daemon slowly steps towards him, blade inching near his skin, piercing him slowly, "now run."

He holds back his screams, but it is futile when the prince rips his shoulder muscle up. Daemon listens to his pathetic cries, lips curling in disgust, "run, vermin."

"Your grace, I-"

Daemon kicks his face, which sends him shooting back, "I'M ASKING YOU TO RUN WITH YOUR LEGS, NOT WITH YOUR MOUTH."

He man is writhing in pain, and his groans annoy Daemon, "you will hurt worse than you've hurt regardless if you run or not."

Upon realizing the man would not get up anytime soon, he kicks him back down on the floor before he can rise up. The prince steps on the cut on the man's skin, making him scream out in anguish. Daemon makes sure to watch everyone's reaction to the piercing noise. Caraxes adds to it with his one screech.

Once the sound dampens, Daemon raises finally speaks, "last night this man broke the oath he swore to keep as a member of the royal guard. Instead of protecting the subjects of this realm, he did the very act he was meant to condemn. He deluded himself in claiming a perverted form of justice when he raped a defenseless woman as a form of revenge.

"And not only did he dishonor the royal guards by overpowering someone in an unfair fight, but he dishonored me," he drums on his chest, "Prince Daemon of house Targaryen, second born after King Viserys, by assaulting the woman I promised to marry."

The crowd breaks into gasps and grumbles. The man beneath his books begins to sob, "but my lord! My lord, she was shackl-"

Daemon kicks him repeatedly as he seethes, "shut the fuck up."

The man's cries excite Caraxes into another scream. Daemon heaves, feeling the thirst of his Blood Wyrm course through him. It takes so much in him not to say the word and end the life of the pathetic man. His entire body was practically buzzing with a thirst for blood. But he turns to his dragon, raising a hand at him to calm him down. Caraxes clicks in disappointment.

For a moment, the prince basks in the man's pain. As much as his fingers itch to inflict even more on him, with great restraint, he turns away, "take him to a cell before I kill him," Daemon commands as he walks off.

It was on the 3rd day of my bed rest that I finally asked the maesters if there had been any word from Prince Daemon. Upon being told that there was none, I proceeded to ask if perhaps I was visited while I was asleep. The look the maester gave me after that was one of pity, as if I was delusional to expect that I be visited by anyone at all.

I was visited though, but not by the Valyrian I wanted. Lord Corlys came on the 5th day of my bed rest. He was kind, he instructed the maesters to keep me well fed and even brought me literature to amuse myself with. It was on that very same day I realized the prince was not coming to visit me.

It hurt of course, and the more I tried to convince myself that what the maesters said about their prince was true, how he was rogue and only ever did things that benefit himself, the more I thought about how I pathetic I was into thinking he actually cared for me.

And so today, the very first day I was allowed to walk and go wherever I wanted, I blew off steam on the training ground in the early morning so I wouldn't have to share it with anyone.

"This is the first thing you do after being allowed to stand?"

The voice is familiar, too familiar in fact, considering I did not hear it at all during my recovery. I ignore him, focusing on the inanimate target before me, allowing the extra shot of anger that coursed through me now flow out of me.

He speaks in High Valyrian, "have you now become so proud that you are to be reinstated as a Lady that you will not even greet your prince?"

I halt for a moment, enraged by the sentiment. I grip my sword tightly then hack on the hay dummy particularly, "greetings, prince Daemon!"

The man's lips curve at the show of strength. I hear him chuckle, "though it gladdens me to see your might, I'm worried you might overexert yourself."

I scoff, opting to twirl my weapon in my hand instead, "I did not think it mattered to you what I do anymore, considering you did not come to me in 10 days."

Daemon brings his hands together in front of him, "the maesters told me it would take a week for you to heal."

"A week is not 10 days," I blurt quickly, whipping my head to him, "Targaryen scum."

Daemon smirks at me.

My face twists the opposite way and my pulse quickens in anger. Sensing my hostility, the man draws his sword out just in time before my blade could hit him.

My fury is further fueled by his mischievous expression. We prance around, boots grinding the dirt beneath it as we stomp to match the other's stance. Daemon is too thrilled by the sounds of clanking swords, and it becomes clear to me that he thinks this is a game, that I was doing this to show him how much I had recovered, and so I make it a point to nick him when I get the chance. The chance comes quickly when he laughs as he pulls back to avoid my charge.

He lets out a shocked grunt when I rip the middle part of the sleeve of his coat deep enough that blood is drawn.

Our fight ends here.

The prince looks at me for a moment, betrayed, obviously only now realizing that I was, in fact, pissed that he did not visit me at all while I was bedridden. He turns to his cut, confused by the pain. I drop the sword in my hand and turn, walking away.

"I did not think you wanted my company," he calls as he wipes the blood with his fingers. Daemon averts his gaze from his wound to me, "I confess, I wouldn't have known what to do had I visited anyway."

I scoff in disbelief, grinding my teeth in annoyance. I take in his pathetic look and I storm towards him, heaving in anger. My eyes grow glassy when I growl, "I was fucking raped, you stupid piece of shit!"

Daemon takes a step back for every step I took towards him.

"You are so incorrigible that you cannot care to think about anything but yourself!" I bark, raising and accusing finger at him. "You are the only face I know here!" I whine, voice breaking as my tears betray me with their appearance. "You are the only one that doesn't look at me like I'm broken or tainted or fucking stupid, and yet here you are looking down at me as if I am!"

Daemon's face twitches at the shrillness of my screams. He is surprised when my hands dart out to his collar, "I didn't want you, Daemon," I pull him down to me, heaving helplessly as I finish my words in High Valyrian, "I needed you."

His hands raise around me but they do not land anywhere. His head is spinning. He never before has been so confused with what to do next.

I release him and walk off once again.

Daemon does not like that, which is why in his desperation, he darts his hands forward and grabs my arm. He instantly regrets it though when I jolt at the unforeseen contact and raise my hands up in defense, and out of instinct.

"Fuck," he pulls away quickly, raising both his hands up, "fuck, shit, fuck, apologies," he sputters, digging his fingers in his nape, "fuck, fuck, I-"

I shake my head, releasing a breath as my anger slowly melts at his guilty expression, "I touched you first without-"

"I told you you could," he says, "you can always touch me without-"

"I know," I cut him off, "still it was unlike me to do so."

Daemon watches me wipe my eyes before I turn back to him, "I have to go. I must get ready soon. I was granted audience with the king to discuss the reclamation of my title."

"Can I be granted audience as well?"

I sigh, turning away from him, "do I truly even have a choice?"

"You do," he retorts, eyes fixed on me.

I look at the prince for a moment. A foreign expression lingered in his eyes. I tilt my head, "I grant it to you now then... but make it quick."

He extends his hand out to me, asking in High Valyrian, "may I?"

I turn to his palm and place my own atop of his.

The prince's eyes remained fixed intently on me, starkly contrasting mine that were wandering the large, dark, and filthy place all over. The smell the massive building had was ten times worse than that of the bottom chamber of ship Jocelyn.

My left hand was also still firmly gripped in his right one. Daemon hat them hands pressed against his chest protectively.

"Where are we?" I finally ask as we make our stop in center of the massive place.

Daemon looks down at me, raking in my expression in silence.

I turn to him with an expectant look after receiving no response. He raises his head a fraction, eyes still on mine. I raise my brows as he moves my hand to his left one and side steps behind me. He presses his body flush against my back and places his right hand on my right shoulder, "the dragon pit."

My eyes widen at his admission. I look over my shoulder where his face was and shake my head in disapproval as my pulse quickens.

"Shhhh," he hushes as he presses his lips against my temple, "do not be nervous."

Yet out of nervousness, I involuntarily speak the name that popped into my mind, "Caraxes?"

In that very moment, there is a whine that echoes across the room. My breath hitches as the noise grows louder.

I wriggle out of Daemon's clutch. He hushes me again. He mutters in High Valyrian, "calm yourself, my love."

And from the very pit emerges a dragon head, screeching loudly. Suddenly I wonder if Daemon's words were for me or his dragon. Perhaps both.

Daemon does not enjoy the restlessness he was feeling across the room. He presses a kiss on my pulsing neck, breath hot against me as he speaks in the same language, "I am here. Nothing will hurt you."

Caraxes draws nearer. The dragon screeches yet again and shakes his head in a manner I can only hope was friendly.

"Calm yourself," Daemon commands, raising his right hand to his dragon, "I brought her here to meet you."

"Daemon," I mutter harshly in fear.

He presses his lips to my temple again, "calm yourself. He can sense your restlessness, same as I."

My breath hitches as I exhale and chuckle sardonically, "oh, pardon me for being nervous in front of a mother fucking dragon."

Daemon chuckles, his free hand coming to circle around my waist, "there's that fire. Caraxes will appreciate it."

At this point, the dragon is close enough that the hot huffs coming out of his nostrils was blowing against both mine and Daemon's being.

I decide to merely close my eyes and lean my head against Daemon's, "I have no idea why you want me to meet your dragon, but be quick about it so we can leave at once."

Daemon chuckles again, chin affectionately rubbing against my hair. He turns to his dragon and speaks in High Valyrian, "I have chosen her myself, Caraxes," he smiles, "she is a pretty as you, don't you agree?"

For a prolonged moment, there is only silence. I feel Daemon spread my hand open and soon enough my palms are then met with a warm and bumpy sensation.

"Open your eyes, my dear ruby," he instructs in the same language.

I release a breath before slowly opening my eyes. It seems as though the great eye before me opened at the same time. My lips part as Daemon guides my hand to stroke the side of Caraxes' face.

I finally feel brave enough to tear my gaze off of the creature's eye to take in the rest of his large body. I'm shocked at how unexpectedly smooth the feeling of his scales where against my hand.

"What fierce beauty you are, sweet dragon," I mutter in the language Caraxes is responsive to. For a moment, my heart jumps back into my throat as the beast makes quick clicking noises. I step back, falling into Daemon's arms and he hushed me yet again. Caraxes lifts his head, releasing a quick whine, then bares the other side of his face to me.

Daemon breaks into a laugh, heart soaring at his dragon's sentiment. I am in utter astonishment of how the beast reacted.

When Caraxes is close enough, I slowly bring my hand back down on him by my own will. In my surprise of how he leans in, my other hand darts up to his face. A gasp of surprise leaves my lips. The prince is, needless to say, pleased.

"My dragon is anything but sweet," Daemon says, slowly breaking away from me to go to the other side of Caraxes' head, praising him quickly, "good boy."

I stroke Caraxes' head in a more confident manner now. The creature closes his eyes and rests his head on the floor. I realize the rolling sound he was making was perhaps similar to that of a cat's purr. The thought makes me break into a smile, "you're just an overgrown kitten, aren't you?"

Daemon's own lips curve upward, unable to hide his amusement. He slowly walks over to me and says, "you are now bonded to a dragon."

I freeze in my actions and turn to him, knitting my brows, "surely, it's not that simple."

He chuckles, hand resting on Caraxes' snout, nonchalant, "he will, of course, answer only to my command, but now he knows your scent and knows of your connection to his master."

I turn to the dragon, "Caraxes is-"

I do not finish my thought as the said creature opens his eyes and lifts his head from the floor to look down upon me and his rider. I step back, feeling fear flood me again. Daemon catches me before I can step back any further, "careful. He is very responsive to his name."

I open my mouth but cannot speak a word.

Daemon chuckles one last time before turning to Caraxes, "go on now," he dismisses in High Valyrian, "go back to your cave and take a nap."

Caraxes releases a quick whine and obeys his master's order.

I watch as he slowly walks back down into the pit. When I finally tear my gaze away from Caraxes, I give Daemon a wide eyed look, "did you just command a dragon to take a nap?"

He looks at me for a moment before releasing an amused breath, "come now. You mustn't reek of dragon slobber when you go to meet the king."

When he takes my hand back in his, I ask him again, "and did your dragon respond to it?"

Daemon presses his lips together in a soft smile.

"My cats didn't even come to me when I called to them."

We begin to walk off when Daemon responds, "that's because your blood does not contain magic that calls out to felines."

I give him an incredulous look, "are you telling me you're a cat whisperer as well?"

Daemon could only think of one thing as he stood in the throne room, his attention was solely on one person alone. Rhaenyra, who was situated near him, could see the pleased look on her uncle's face and it made her so utterly curious. So, she followed his line of sight, wondering what had him in such a good mood today, then giggled to herself upon seeing what her uncle was looking at.

I grinned, bowing courteously to King Viserys right after he announced before all the lord and ladies present that he was recognizing me as Lady of house Rubin.

The hall erupted into cheers for me, and I yet I felt only a semblance of emotion to the sight of Lord Corlys' clapping. I nod graciously at him, offering a smile. He gives me a knowing look back, beckoning me over wordlessly.

I promptly make my to him but on my way though, I bump into something I did not see. When I do spot what hindered my passage, I see a head of silver hair and a boy that was knocked over to the floor, yet he sweetly tells me, "pardon me, my good lady."

My lips part in concern and my heart clenches at his sweet words. I crouch down to the boy, who surely was of Valyrian descent, "I apologize, my sweet prince. Are you hurt?"

The boy looks up at me as I extend a hand him.

I hear soft giggles beside me and I turn and see an older version of the boy, "oooh, look! Little Aemond got knocked over by a girl!"

I raise a brow at the bratty response of the child. I whip my head to the other child as he suddenly swatted my hand away and stands up on his own.

"Aegon!" the shrill voice of the queen called.

The two boys promptly still and turn to their mother. I rise as Queen Alicient walks over to me, "I apologize for my sons behavior. They keep running away from their keeper."

I smile at her, shaking my head, "children are no trouble to me," I turn to the younger boy, "prince Aemond is very sweet, and his brother," I turn to whom the queen addressed as Aegon, "is very sharp about his tongue."

The Queen looks down at her eldest, "what did you say to Lady Rubin?"

"Nothing, mother, I-"

"Not to me," I smile, "to his brother. But I suppose the occurrence is common."

I watch as Alicient's cheek turns a shade red. My expression drops, "I meant no impertinence, my queen. I apologize." I turn to Aegon, "I'm sure the prince will grow out of it and be a fine ruler one day."

I bow before them and quickly speak, "your majesties," before continuing to walk off.

"Lord Corlys."

"Lady Rubin," he greets when I am near him, "it seems you have a knack of attracting Targaryen prince."

I press my lips into a line, "I cannot help who I attract, though I can use it to my advantage."

He nods, softly chuckling. He then side steps to better reveal the woman beside him, "this is Princess Rhaenys," my face brightens at the sight of her, "my lady wife-"

"I have heard a great many things about you and your mighty dragon, Meleys, my princess," I excitedly retort in High Valyrian, a bit too quickly perhaps. The white haired princess raises her brows at me. I bow before her, "it is an absolute honor to meet you."

She hums as I straighten myself up, "My husband, Lord of the Tides, told me you were the reason for the loss of his thousands worth of goods," she takes a moment before adding, "how did you manage it and remain unscathed?"

I break into a wide smile, feeling my fingers tingle in excitement, "honestly, your grace," I turn to my feet then back to the princess, I continue in High Valyrian, "I was, in fact, scathed, brutally after my my capture. One of the guards snuck into my cell to get even over a scar I placed on his cheek."

Princess Rhaenys watches my expression. I press my lips into a smile, "there is a price to be paid for every exploit, the cost is blood, honor, and life, although never only mine. I have paid every price with an unwilling generosity," I turn from her to her husband, "tis why I have agreed to the terms of our Lord Velaryon with no fuss. Not only am I certain of my capabilities, but I also no longer wish to give helplessly to men with power. I did not want another of my crew to die either."

The princess turns to her husband, eyes bearing a glint in them. She speaks in her mother tongue, "your stories do her no justice."

Corlys leans towards her, "we have yet to see how quickly she can amass the payment of her debt."

"Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys," a voice calls, "Lady Rubin," a man walks up beside me, offering his hand out, "it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

I look at his hand for a moment, gripping my own before lifting it up and pulling a smile, "the pleasure's all mine, ser..."

The man with dark brown hair and blue eyes takes my hand gently in his, "tis Lord Aiden of house Greystoke."

I feel my skin rise up with goosebumps when he presses his lips on the back of my hand. I withdraw my hand quickly right after. Lord Aiden does not seem to mind as he smiles and says, "I have heard of your exploits with Lord Corlys, my lady, and I say I am impressed."

I turn to Corlys and hold in a chuckle, "you misunderstand. I have not yet done exploits with Lord Corlys."

The young lord tilts his head and gives a confused puppy look. My lips curve in endearment. He raises a hand, "would you mind then if you continued on with this tale while sharing a glass of wine with me?"

Before Lord Corlys can but in, another voice speaks, "actually, I was wondering the same thing." I turn to the opposite direction and find a face of a smirking yellow haired man. He too extends his hand out to me, "Lord Jason Lannister."

I take one look of his calloused hands and clench my jaw. I bow at him instead, "a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Lord Jason."

The man looks at me for a moment, gripping his extended hand and recovering to his side. He clears his throat.

"It seems we shall have to continue our chat some other time, my lady," princess Rhaenys calls out in High Valyrian, making everyone turn to her.

My lips part in disappointment, "I do not care to converse with these lords."

Lord Corlys laughs at that.

"How lucky am I to be born a prince then," a voice calls from behind me. I turn over and see the face of prince Daemon, lips curved upward, and yet there was no amusement in his eyes.

"How impressive it is that you understand the tongue of the dragon," Lord Aiden says, eyes fixed on me. I turn from Daemon to him, unable to contain my amused chuckle at his glimmering eyes and admiring expression, "I know a great many languages, my lord."

"You must be well traveled then," he smiles.

"Like a pirate," Daemon blurts firmly, making both me and Aiden turn to him.

Aiden ignores him and adds, "I would love to hear about your travels, my lady Rubin." He nods bows and smiles with such reverence that I cannot contain my pleased expression.

Daemon's eyes are darker now, and as he steps closer, he speaks sternly, "Lady Rubin and I have premade plans."

I tilt my head to him, lips curving into a small smirk, "we do?"

"An execution," Daemon retorts plainly.

My amused expression beings to melt away.

Daemon looks at the concerned faces around him, pleased by it, but then his eyes fall on mine and he adds in a blurt, "--of sorts."

I suck in a breath and turn away from the prince, "it has been a pleasure to converse with you all," I turn to the princess in particular and smile, continuing in High Valyrian, "I look forward to continuing our chat, my princess."

Rhaenys nods, lips pressed in a soft smile.

"Do not forget about me, my lady," Aiden calls, making me turn to him.

I grin at this hopefully bright expression, "I would not dare dream of it, my lord."

I turn then to Daemon who gives me a pointed look before walking off. I give one quick curtsy then rush after the long striding prince.

I feel all the eyes of the room turn to me as I make haste towards the exit where the prince was headed. I realize he is doing it on purpose, making me run after him, as he weaves through the crowd. I am quicker and swifter then he'd give me credit for though.

The moment we make it out to the hall, Daemon speaks, "you enjoyed that."

"You will have to be more specific, Targaryen scum," I retort in High Valyrian.

"Those men! Fawning for you!" he blurts, still not relenting his quick pace.

I chuckle, having no choice but to run to catch up with him, "I enjoy your vexation to it."

He halts abruptly, causing me to slam onto his back with much force. I reel backwards as the prince turns about and walks towards me. When I catch his expression, I bite my lip to hold in a laugh. He is entirely serious when he speaks, but I find no threat in them, "it would do you good to burn in mind that no man shall have you but I."

I lick my lips and shake my head mockingly in disappointment, "oh, boys, so naturally uninclined to share."

"I am a prince," he seethes, enunciating each word clearly, face coming dangerously close to mine, "I was not taught to share, nor do I plan on doing so any time soon."

Daemon is a bit taken aback by the quick peck I place on his lips. His violet eyes darken where mine shimmer, "good to know, little boy."

With that, I dash past him and continue off to where he was heading originally.

It took two men to drag the raggedy body of the man in front of the prince and I. I look at the man, trying to distinguish if it was in fact the man who attacked me, but his body was so torn and filthy, and his face so distraught that I could not make out his features, nor distinguish the scar I left on him.

I turn to Daemon, who seems to sense my apprehension, and so he speaks, "do you remember her, rat?" the prince shifts from where he stood, turning his gaze to the man, "bask in the glory of your executioner."

I watch as the man writhes on the ground in pain. His limbs were cut in many ways, and it appeared to me he could no longer feel them. Suddenly, I fear that Daemon took the wrong person and made him suffer for the wrongs of another. I turn to Daemon, "are you certain this is the man I described to you?"

"He confessed and plead by his sins to me," the prince spoke, turning to me, "I made sure he suffered while you healed."

"Please," the man, who had his face on the dirt, heaves with great difficulty, "let me die."

A shiver runs down my spine. My tear immediately prick in my eyes. I turn to the man on the ground. Daemon looks at me, excited by my look of wrath.

"You plead for the wrong things," I mutter, "you should plead for my mercy, for my forgiveness," my breath quickens as anger rips at me, "you should plead that I take pity in you and that I shall spare your life so that you may return to your family."

He whines, barely able to raise his head, "I could not live... knowing I shamed my family."

His words strike a chord in me. I shriek in anger, ripping the blade Daemon had sheathed my his side, momentarily surprising him, "AND YET YOU WISH I LIVE WITH THE SHAME YOU INFLICTED ME!?!"

I raise Daemon's sword with two hands, its weight literally too heavy to bare. It didn't help that I was trembling in anger. It took so much for me not to drop the weapon.

Daemon moves to help me, but I shove him off. In turn, the sword slowly descends to the ground. With all my strength, made sure not to him the man on the floor because if I hurt him, I want to do it with intention. Still, I can't for the life of me decide whether or not I should let him die by my blade.

Tears run down my face, "perhaps I should let you live-- recover. Then you'd have a wife and daughter. Then you'd feel the fear in your soul over the idea they live in a world where men freely strut with intentions of desecrating them," I rapidly shake my head, "but that would be too good to you, wouldn't it? And too horrible to whom you would foolishly blindside into marriage.

"And it would be a shame if you birthed a son that would follow in your footsteps, and that he dare think it is his birthright to be vile," I cry, gripping the hilt of my sword with all my strength, "it would be-" I heave, trying to even out my breathing, "a great act of mercy for me to kill you, mercy to your pathetic self, and to the world that will be better off without you in it."

Yet I drop the sword, unable to cease the shivering of my hands, "but I will instead let The Stranger come for you, secretly in your cell, where you will wonder day after day when you will finally find relief. When your pain is hot, you will think of me, and how you so regret ever laying your filthy hands on me, for it is how I perceive you. Except I will heal from this horror and you will never."

Daemon watches me as I take deep breaths.

"Then you will know what it feels like to live with an irrevocable pain. Then you will know how it feels to live in a world, the same world where the person that hurt you struts freely."

After having my say, I release a breath and begin to walk back. I avert my gaze and allow tears to roll down my face.

The rapist is sobbing as well, uncontrollably, painfully, and begs with the remaining strength in him, "please."

The prince will not have it and grabs his sword, charging at the man. Daemon rips the man's head up by his matted hair. He screams because of it. It allows the prince the perfect opportunity to cut his tongue off. He screeches louder in pain. Daemon holds slimy prize up, "you've no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

"I want to leave now," I say in High Valyrian, bringing my hands to my face, rubbing my wet skin back and forth.

Daemon turns over to me and stands, "throw him back in his cell," he commands one last time, walking over to me.

Once he is before me, I look up at him, wrapping my arms around myself, "can you take me somewhere?"

For a moment, Daemon thinks.

"I don't want to go to the chambers right now. I will not find relief nor rest."

He lowers his gaze, slowly speaking, "I plan to feed the vermin's tongue to Caraxes."

I nod avidly, "please take me with you."

Daemon turns back to me, lips pulling downward at the sight of my frantic expression. He nods then walks off, leading me to the dragon pit silently.

As we walk, I am aware of how the people we pass try so hard not to look, lest they reap the wrath of their furious looking prince.

And yet, while on out way to the pit, there is one that dares to grab our attention. I hear a voice call out my name, it is frantic sounding. I recognized it to be of Lord Aiden's but I ignore it. Prince Daemon does not, and dirtily looks out to whom spoke. He finds himself glaring daggers at the young man with dark hair and blue eyes, though it seemed he did not even notice, as he was too preoccupied with a troubled expression.

We arrive at the pit, and somehow, the stench is comforting.

"Caraxes!" Daemon calls loudly, striding forward, deeper into the place with confidence, "I came bearing a gift." He raises the tongue and wiggles it in the air. The sight is revolting to my eyes, and I turn away, involuntarily gagging.

Daemon awaits his mount as it screeches from beneath the room, slowly crawling out.

Caraxes lets out a screech once he is before his master. Daemon throws the chunk of flesh to the dragon's massive mouth. Caraxes quickly catches it and swallows without a problem.

I watch as the large beast whines and shakes his head. I feel my chest tighten in anxiousness over the actions. I raise my eyes and step back slowly as the dragon comes my way.

Daemon raises his hands to the dragon, "Caraxes! Listen to me, submit to me, obey me," he enumerates in High Valyrian.

Caraxes does his telltale clicking noise and ruffles his wings as he steps around, clearly agitated.

My heart begins to pound, "Daemon, I-"

"He can sense your distress," he says, quickly turning over to me, then back to Caraxes, "calm yourself, boy."

I wrap my arms tighter around myself, feeling my dread further intensify, "Forgive me, but I cannot control my-"

"Call out to him," Daemon says, walking backwards to meet me. I move close to the prince and share a frantic look. He meets my gaze and reaches his hand out to me, wordlessly asking for my permission. I place my hand in his as he commands his dragon in High Valyrian, "Caraxes, calm yourself."

"Calm yourself," I repeat in the same tongue.

"Louder, more conviction," Daemon says, bringing our joined hands up in front of him, "come to me."

"Come to me," I say a volume louder. I look from Daemon to the dragon and command, "come to me to calm yourself."

The moment he hears this, Daemon finds no need to watch his dragon as he crawls over. He fixes his gaze upon me and rests his cheek on the crown of my head.

When Caraxes is close enough, he huffs through his nostrils, steam coming out. I place both my palms on him and bite my lower lip to hold in my sobs.

"He must have thought your distress was because of him," Daemon says, "perhaps because he didn't share the treat."

I choke on my tears as a laugh escapes me. Caraxes responds by pushing up against my hands. He lays his head on the floor before us. I coo, stroking the dragon's face, "you are the most generous boy I know."

Daemon chuckles, stroking Caraxes all the same, "my dragon is anything but generous."

I allow some final tears run down my face before I sigh, "thank you," I lean close to Caraxes then turn to Daemon, "my sweet and generous dragon."

He looks at me and raises his hand to my face, "may I?"

My only response is leaning against his hand. He wipes my tears with the pad of his thumb, "no man deserves your tears."

I close my eyes, feeling tears streak down my face, "I know."

The princes draws his hand back, "would you like to take my sweet and generous dragon out for a ride?"

My heart drops and my pulse quickens. I ask an octave higher than normal, "by myself?"

Daemon breaks into a laugh. He leans into his dragon, entertainment, "my cunning pirate bride loses her wits when she is around my mount."

When our eyes meet, I raise my brows at him, "you have a cunning pirate bride?"

He smirks, extending his hand out to me again, "there she is."

I take his hand and he pulls me towards him. Caraxes lifts his head as we make our way to his saddle. Daemon begins to climb up on him, and soon after, he extends his hand out for me. I give him an apprehensive look, but take his hand again and he helps me climb up his dragon.

"Be gentle," I mumble as he situates me in front of him, locking me in between his body and the reins.

Daemon chuckles and I squeak as Caraxes begins to move, "I thought you liked it when I'm rough, my dear ruby."

"You," I whine, "not Caraxes."

Daemon laughs again. Caraxes shrieks upon hearing his name.

Two years had passed since the day my house was reinstated and acknowledged by the king. And within this time, begrudgingly, I only managed to get about half of the sum I owed Lord Corlys, which to be fair, was about exactly how much I stole from him, considering he charged me twice the amount.

And honestly, I had not initially anticipated that he wanted me to do so in a way that obeyed the law. I mean, I may be a lady but I was a pirate. What did he expect of me? This was which was why it was taking unimaginably long to accomplish what I could do then in mere months. I had to barter instead of threaten and create relations than crack skulls, and honestly, I was missing the violence a bit, especially when men thought it was ok to breath down my neck.

Make no mistake, pain was a friend I introduced to many of my new acquiantances.

It was also surprising that it seems to Lord Corlys, the grueling time in my eyes was quick in his. I told Princess Rhaenys that his husband was unimpressive in that matter, and she only laughed at that.

Today, I was returning from a month's voyage, coming home with more than I anticipated for such a short travel, which was why I was particularly chirpy.

At the moment, I was heading to the guestroom where the Lord of Driftmark was staying for the while he is in King's Landing for the birth of his first grandchild to Lord Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra.

I was still dressed in my travel attire, fresh off the boat as I made my way down the castle's halls. I hear a commotion come from one of the rooms across the hall. By the time I reach the door where the noise sourced, a boy with silver white hair storms out, followed by another who runs after him, calling, "Aegon, you'll get us in trouble again!"

"We'll only get in trouble is someone tells," the taller of the two says in response, raising a finger, "and you better not."

"Aye," I call out, making the two turn to me. I cross my arms as the two look at me with an nervous expression, "the queen should not know about how her sons are bickering in the hall," I walk over and sneak a look to their open door, "instead of, what? Studying?"

"Insolar person," Aegon attempts at High Valyrian.

I make a face at the kid and ask in the same tongue, "is that supposed to be some sort of insult?"

The princes are shocked, the one called Aemond is particularly impressed, "you can speak High Valyrian?"

"Amongst other things."

Aegon, however, is unimpressed and crosses his own arms to prove it, "I didn't understand it. You just made that up."

I relax my arms to the side and reply again in the same tongue, "you didn't understand it because you cannot speak this language."

He makes a cross face. His brother looks at me in astonishment.

I shake my head and offer a smile, "you don't have to worry about me telling your mother, but I do so humbly suggest you study the language while you're still young. It'll get harder to learn once you're older."

With that, I give them a quick bow in regard and walk past them, making my way to where I was going to in the first place.

"Will you stay for dinner?" the voice of Aemond asks from behind me.

I do not bother turning to him when I reply, "I'm only here to speak to Lord Corlys, then I am returning to my estate."

I make it to the room and announce myself before entering.

Upon stepping into the room, Lord Corlys wastes no time in applauding me for my latest exploits, ceaselessly impressed by my capabilities, though again to my eyes it was sluggish.

"Although I am somewhat pleased and amused by your compliments, I am fairly certain that you did not call me here for that."

Corlys nods, "yes. Well, while you were away, I had many lords come to me with proposals of marriage. I think because of our houses' alliance, they think it is my business what you do with yours."

I cannot help but roll my eyes, "that, and they could not possibly communicate such important proposals with a woman."

"Well, the woman was on a voyage," he says, handing me a box of scrolls where the many marriage proposals were.

I scoff at the sight of it, "I meant my handmaiden, Abigail, who is in charge of my estate when I am not present."

Corlys chuckles, "I will make sure to direct any further inquiries to your handmaiden then."

I release a sigh and nod in regard, "thank you, my lord," I turn to the box in hand, "and apologies."

He shakes his head, "worry not about it. I feel responsible for you as well anyway, as you are not only my old friend's remaining daughter, but you are also returning your debt at a promising rate."

I shake my head and chuckle, "I will be off then, Lord Corlys."

When I make it to Jocelyn, I break into an amused smile upon spotting the man waiting for me, "my Lord."

Lord Aiden perks up at the sight of me then nods in regard, "my Lady Rubin." I raise my brows at him as he moves towards me with a smile plastered on his face, "as soon as I heard you were here, I made haste to meet you, knowing you are as swift as you go as you come."

I break into a chuckle, "an astute observation."

The man beams at my reaction, "I will not waste your time by asking you to dinner for clearly you are ready to leave."

"Another astute observation," I nod.

"I am glad however to behold your glorious face," he smiles, making my lips curl upward. He mimics my expression, "I do hope one day we will be able to share a meal though."

I shake my head, ceaselessly amused by him and his softly curved lips, "one day, perhaps."

"Welcome home, my Lady," Abigail, with her rosy cheeks and golden-brown hair, smiles at me once I enter. I return her expression and pull her into a hug, "where is your older brother?"

"William is out tending to the animals."

I pull away, smiling, "just like your father," I look at her, pushing Abigail's hair behind her ear, "and you look just like your mother."

She shakes her head as she chuckles, "you know you don't have to keep telling me that every time you see me."

"Well, I can't help it, it's true," I pull away from her, "Agnes and Douglas raised me like their own and yet... I could not even repay them in this life."

Abigail takes my hand, "taking us in is more than enough, sister."

My heart swells at her regard. She smiles at me, then gasps, "oh, I nearly forgot." I look at her reluctant expression and she raises a finger before speaking, "the prince is here."

I release a breath of relief, "I thought you were going to say someone broke in."

"Well," Abigail's eyes trail off, "he kind of did."

I roll my eyes at the thought.

She continues, "he had me draw a bath in your quarters. I told him it was indecent," she stressed out, "but, then he asked me if I wanted to know what real indecency was, and I could not bare the thought of him speaking vulgarities to me, and so I did his bidding." Abigail gives me a regretful look, "for that I sincerely apologise, I-"

"I am not cross with you, my dear," I say, placing a hand on her shoulder, "the Targaryen scum on the one h-"

"My lady!"

I raise my hands in defeat, "the prince," I correct myself before releasing a sigh, "think nothing of it, Abigail. Just go about your duties. It's almost time for supper. I'm certain everyone is famished."

"I shall make sure they wait for you before-"

"Nothing of the sort," I shake my head, "I might just take a bath myself and go to sleep."

Abigail makes a nervous look, "no- not with the prince around, right?"

I break into a laugh and shake my head, "silly girl, of course not."

She releases a breath she held in after hearing that.

"Perhaps I will be around him."

Abigail does not react because she does not understand.

I promptly make my way upstairs to my chambers. I enter and see scattered clothes on the floor. I click my tongue at the sight of it. I walk in deeper and see the door to my bath was wide open.

I walk in, slowly undressing myself of my outerwear as I find Daemon in the large, circular stone tub, eyes closed. I make my way closer, prompting the man to speak, "took you long enough."

"When did you get here?"

He chuckles, "worry not, it was not too long."

"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried that you might have rode Caraxes and left him somewhere to devour our livestock out of spite."

I stand before him at this point. His lips are curled upward mischievously, "I left Caraxes in King's Landing. I think he's coming down with a cold-"

"A cold," I snort.

"- and would feel better if you visited him."

I shake my head, "are you trying to ineffectively guilt trip me into coming home with you?"

"It's not ineffective if it works."

I roll my eyes at him, "you threatened to speak vulgarities to Abigail if she not drawn you a bath in my chambers?"

His lips quirk up higher, "vulgarities? Is that what she said?" He opens his eyes and turns to me, "I only asked her if she wanted to know of how her lady spent her time before she her house, Rubin, was reinstated."

"She is an innocent child, Targaryen scum."

He chuckles, "she is a maiden in marrying age. You would benefit from marrying her off to some rich moron."

"Hmm," I cross my arms, "I actually received an entire box of marriage proposals myself. I am thinking of holding a banquet soon enough to comb through my potential husbands."

He scoffs, "I'm sure they're all so eager to get their grubby fingers into your steady growing wealth," he wades his hand in the water and continues in High Valyrian, "you would be the best thing in their life, while they would be worst thing in yours."

I smack my lips and step closer to Daemon, placing my hands behind my back, "that oddly sounds like you're describing yourself."

Daemon straightens from where he sits, making the water around him ripple, "except I'd rather stick my fingers in your sopping cunt."

The statement does not land on my ears the way he intends. I clench my jaw upon hearing that and reel back. A memory plays in my mind against my will. My hands curl up into a ball as I step away.

"Fuck," he mutters upon realizing, "I- fuck- I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, Daemon," I mutter, "it happens. It's not your fault."

I turn around and decide to walk off.

I wasn't always like this. There were moments were I absolutely reveled at the idea of being desired, where I basked in the praise and worship Daemon sung against my skin. I could not control it though when I was caught in the opposite end.

I didn't want to be at the opposite end though, which is why I turn back to Daemon, "is the water still warm?"

He looks at me, "just a bit."

I begin to undress myself fully as I walk over to the large circular tub. Daemon watches my every move but once I pull my shirt off, he averts his gaze, "do you want me to go?"

"No," I remove my trousers.

A moment passes before he speaks up again, "can I touch you, my ruby?"

I, too, take a moment before replying, "perhaps."

"Perhaps is not yes," he says, leaning his head back on the stone, closing his eyes, "you have nothing to prove."

I press my lips into a line as I dip my foot into the water.

True, he was selfish and unhinged his man was, but Daemon was also a fierce supporter. He never spoke to me in profound manners, he never pushed me or instructed me to do things he thought was right, but instead when he was by my side, he remind me of my fire.

Sure, he was rugged in his ways, but there was still solace to be found in knowing he'd be willing the burn the whole world down for me. Sometimes, that was was enough. Right now however, I wanted him to be more tender towards me.

The water rises as I sit down across Daemon, who pulls his legs towards him, so not to bump into mine.

I was supposed to tell him this, ask him to hold me in his arms, but his own words cut me off before I could even speak, "is this why you have not agreed to my proposals?"

I look at him and his exposed neck. My usual self would normally think this moment a great opportunity to latch my lips onto his skin, but I do nothing but splash water onto my arms before I respond, "I like to think it's because I want to keep receiving gifts from men who think they can have me."

He barely releases a chuckle.

"They will cease once I marry, and free gifts are is still free gifts."

Daemon peels his eyes open, "if it's material you want, then I will offer you all the riches I have and all the riches I will ever acquire."

"Will you also accompany me in my travels to pay back Lord Corlys?" I ask, lips curving into a small smirk.

"I'll pay him myself," he retorts, eyes finally finding mine.

For a moment, his gaze upon me is light. The fiery look of desire in his longing gaze was welcomed, but there is a looming darkness in my mind. It doesn't take long for me to feel the need to wrap my arms around my bare chest, feeling too exposed in all the wrong ways in his eyes.

"You should wash up and go to bed," Daemon says, releasing a sigh.

I watch him as he gathers himself up, "what will you do then?"

"Me?" he starts, standing, beginning to make his way out of the water, "I will busy myself in watching you sleep."

I chuckle upon hearing that, eyes fixed on the water as the prince makes his way out, "pervert."

He chuckles, "I thought I would be hailed romantic for wanting to keep an eye on my bride."

"I am not your bride."

"And so you keep rejecting me."

Finally, the day has come.

I have now fully paid my debt to Lord Corlys. It unfortunately took two years off my time again, but I try to simply focus on the fact the deed is done and not dwell on how long it took.

Today, I was holding a hunting party in celebration with all the servants of my. The original intent of this celebration was to celebrate my freedom, but it seems the news of the hunting party spread too widely, as many of my suitors just happened to be at the very site I planned to hunt on the same very day!

William and I at present were racing each other back to the camp with two rabbits and a duck. We had no luck to find a bigger prize, and we both knew it was probably because the lords scared them off on their way here.

Abigail hurriedly receives us when we arrive. The very moment I'm off my steed she asks, "may I attend to you, my lady?"

"Actually, Gail, we caught some-"

She cuts her brother off and raises her hands, "my Lady Rubin?"

I give her a look and nod before dismounting my horse. The very moment I am beside her, she firmly grasps my arm and mutters, "my lady, the lords have been pestering me left and right. You mustn't dare leave me again to think of a thousand more excuses as to why you cannot see to them."

I sigh at the idea of entertaining the men and give my handmaiden a look, "why are you so keen on attending to them? They are not invited company in the first place, Abigail."

"My lady! You cannot be so uncourteous. I fear if turn all of them away with no regard, you will never be able to marry!"

"Tis I that is uncourteous in your gaze?" I ask a bit too loud for Abigail's taste, making her whine and hush me as she gripped onto my arm tightly. "And," I add, "are you so truly unsatisfied with the merit I brought back to my dead house, that you so eagerly wish that I marry a Lord?"

"My lady!" she sighs in defeat, "you did not have me go and study to be a handmaiden only for you to ignore the heeds of which I learned!"

"Abigail, I sent you off that you would learn to read and write, and gain confidence in your-"

"And I am confident that if you turn them away I will weep on days end, my lady," she whines. True to her words, her eyes begin to glass, "I cannot allow you to act so rugged so publicly!"

"I did recount to you that I was a pira-"

"No longer!" she cries. I look at her face and her poor expression nibbles away at my heart.

I sigh, looking away, "fine!"

Abigail blinks rapidly, unable to believe what she just heard.

I pull away from her and turn my gaze upon the group of men that were casually conversing with themselves, really as though they happened to stumble across each other by chance.

The moment I am near them, I purse my lips and bow quickly in regard, "gentlemen."

The five bachelors turn to me and return the sentiment. Amongst them was Lord Aiden and and in fairness to him, his chirpy gaze does take away a bit of my annoyance. Still, I give a pulled expression, "what happy luck that we all wind up in the same forest on the same day. Agreed?"

They all nod eagerly, but before they could speak, I beat them to it, "what do you lords think of playing a game?"

Jason Lannister smirks, "well what kind of game do you have in mind, my lady?"

"A hunting game of course," I say slowly, concealing my bored look with a smirk, "my handmaiden would not allow me not to invite you to supper, so I say," I raise a hand, "winner eats next to me at the table."

"Consider me eager to win then, my lady," Aiden Greystoke says.

I turn to Aiden as the other lords mumble words of agreement. I hold his excited gaze as I announce, "an elk then. Bring me back an elk."

Aiden bows his head, "then an elk you shall receive from me."

The lords turn to Aiden, throwing him a dirty look before going off to their horses.

When I move to go mount my own, one of them stupidly inquire, "you will be joining us?"

"Well, of course," I retort, climbing my ride, "how do you expect me to believe you played fair if I do not witness the hunt myself?"

And just as I suspected, there was foul play amongst them the very moment we galloped into the woods. It was in the most discrete of manners, choosing roads that were narrow, running faster than needed, taking sharp turns, but I was privy to it.

At a point, they were so keen on losing each other that I purposefully fell back and let them ride away. I was willing to bet they wouldn't even notice my absence.

And so I was quite surprised, yet not at all, when I slowly lead my horse followed after the lords that Lord Aiden came back for me, relief visible in his features although he was still quite far away.

"My dear ruby," he sighs once his horse stops next to mine. His words makes me think of how different it sounds when Daemon calls me such. "I feared they injured you instead with their pettiness."

I give him side eye as I instruct my horse to continue its way, "do you think calling me pet names will make me alter the premise of my game to your favor?"

He chuckles, gloved hand running through his thick dark hair as his ride walks next to mine, "I wouldn't dare think of making you result to such unfairness," he smiles, "but there's more to be won than an elk that probably already retreated out of the forest having heard the galloping buffoons a mile off."

I chuckle at his words, "and you think you are not a buffoon, Lord Greystoke?"

"Aiden," he says, "The true Lord Greystoke is my grandsire, then my father, then my older brother."

I hum at that as he continues, "I not the heir apparent like the other lords, but I like to think I do have better breeding than then." He breaks into his signature puppy smile, "and no, I think when I am beside a lady such as you, I am quite possibly the biggest buffoon in the realm."

I cannot withhold my chuckle. Aiden is pleased with himself.

"Now I'm curious because of your answer, Aiden," I start, turning to him, "it has been years since we first met and you have regarded me with nothing but honeyed words. Why then have you not married?"

Aiden chuckles, shaking his head, "well, my lady, you have not yet accepted my proposal."

"There are a many other higher standing ladies than I. It's clear to me at least the other lords present are to benefit greatly from my alliance to the Lord of Driftmark as well as the strategic placement of my estate, but you-"

"- would stand to benefit more by marrying a lady with a clearer dowry, rather than that of a lady who is making efforts to rebuild her house," he continues for me, turning to me with a lopsided smile, "have you been speaking with my father?"

"I need not to," I smile back, "I-"

But suddenly, Aiden's hand darts up and he shushes me, looking off to the side. For a moment, I am taken aback, but whatever offence I was about to feel fades when he points to the far off corner where an elk was grazing.

"The gods are on my side it seems," he mutters softly, grabbing the bow he had by the side of his horse. He gently guides his steed to find a better view of the animal, but just as he was about to draw his arrow, someone else shoots at the elk, but misses greatly.

We turn to the direction of the shot and find the four other lords cursing to themselves. Obviously at this point, the elk is spooked and runs off. The lords run after him and yet Aiden hesitates.

I raise my brows at him, "come now, slowpoke."

It doesn't take long for us to wind up back at the same trail as the other lords, only this time, they were all focused on catching the elk, screaming at their horses to ride faster, so not to lose their prize.

For a moment, my ears play tricks on me when I hear a clicking whine from afar. I look to my sides but see nothing but the Lord's neighing horses.

The elk makes a mistake of running out of the cloak of the woods and into the plains. The game was practically over when the lords circled around the beast and pulled out their weapons.

But that was until the unmistakable sound of Caraxes' screech fills the sky. Every beast on the ground was startled, and soon enough, the dragon swooped in and ripped the elk's head off with one strong bite.

Every lord's horse rallies in different directions. I work hard to keep my own from charging into someone else's.

Soon enough, the horses are calm and Caraxes lands near us, licking its mouth.

Prince Daemon's eyes are on me as he shouts from his dragon's back, "I thought you needed my assistance."

"Twas a game, your grace," Jason shouts back, fully annoyed, "the winner sits next to Lady Rubin at supper."

The silver haired prince extends his arms out victoriously, "then I will gladly take my seat next to bright ruby."

"Except you were not part of the game," Aiden retorts.

Daemon eyes dart to him; his pleased expression falters.

Aiden adds, half-heartedly, "my prince."

"And anyway," I finally speak, "it was Caraxes that caught the elk, not you."

Daemon's smirk grows again as he turns to me, "by my command no less."

"Matters not," I call, turning to the begrudged looks on the lords' faces, "I have decided I will not sit at the table at all, so to save everyone from divulging in an argument. My handmaiden would be terribly distressed if I allowed such a thing to ensue."

With that, we all head back to the campsite. Caraxes swoops in with the elk before we even arrive and Abigail is absolutely mortified.

While we were plating the food for the lords, Abigail she mutters to me softly, "my lady, you ought to tell that," her voice softens even more, "dragon rider to keep his mischief to himself."

William grabs the full plates agrees with less regard of whom hears, "yes, he's getting quite annoying and his dragon is a hazard to the livestock."

Abigail shoots William a dirt look before turning back to me, "I cannot even comprehend why you allow him to lurk around you, my lady."

"He's got a big co-"

"Will you poison my food again, wench," Daemon asks, walking up behind me, causing Abigail's face to pale like a ghost and squeak out in response, "your highness!"

Daemon looks down at her and chuckles, pushing away his amused expression to seriously retort, "it means beautiful in High Valyrian."

"Stupid fucking idiot prince," I say in the very language.

He raises a finger at me, "that, however," he smirks, brows knitting, "is treason."

"My lady!" Abigail whines.

I turn to her and shrug, "oh don't listen to him," I grab the remaining plates and ready to walk off, "I only complimented his pretty face."

Daemon watches as William, Abigail, and I walk off to serve the food to the lords on the table. I then beckon the rest of my servants to grab food for themselves.

"If you will not sit next to me as the victor of your game," Daemon says, walking up next to me before sitting on a vacated chair, "then by my royal command you shall."

I make a face at him. The rest of the lords on the table do so as well.

It's clear to me that this is just a game to him, and yet his power trip annoys me thoroughly. Does he think I hesitate to jump him? Does he think care about what these lords will think of me if I do?

Before I could even move, I hear my handmaiden speak but cut herself off. I look over to her, practically feeling her anxiousness.

"That's hardly fair of you to force a lady into your bidding," Aiden notes, tilting his head.

His words make me turn to him and dare I say his annoyed expression towards Daemon was quite arousing.

The prince doesn't even spare him a bit of attention, eyes fixed on me as he spreads his legs on the chair, "it would be most impertinent and treasonous of you to decline," the prince says, eyes averting to my golden haired servant, "wouldn't you agree, Abigail?"

Abigail turns from the prince to me, slowly agreeing "it would, my prince."

I press my lips together, "then I shall humor you, if not for the sanity of my handmaiden."

Daemon is pleased as watches me sit beside him. He leans back then says, "my chambers have missed your voice."

He speaks this so plainly, so uncaring of who hears, and yet the very contents of his words are like a firecracker that make all the lords the table freeze and look.

"What do you wish to gain from telling me this, prince Daemon?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

He chuckles at my deviant tone, "I should wish to have your company. My warmth longs for yours-"

"HAVE SOME MORE ELK!" Abigail rips between us, giving Daemon a large piece of meat.

I ignore Abigail however and move closer to the table to look Daemon in the eye, "you are keeping my company now, are you not?"

Abigail eyes me harshly as Daemon leans forward as well, "not in anyway that counts."

"OH I DO HOPE-" Abigail speaks too loudly that she had to cut herself off, "that you two do not speak too much, lest the food get cold!"

"Correct, my Targaryen," I word out carefully, "prince," I press my teeth together, "you should only concern yourself with the food, or else my handmaiden will not find peace."

Abigail throws me a worried look before curtsying and walking away.

Daemon leans back on his chair, "I hunger for other things, my lady, as you are well aware."

And just in that very moment, Caraxes screeches, causing everyone to turn to him in shock. The dragon then spits his fire to one of my horses.

"CARAXES!" both his rider and I shout, standing from our seats.

William in particular pulls at his hair and shouts, "NO, NO, YOU MALICOUS BEAST!"

Daemon storms over to his dragon who was effectively ignoring him, happily finishing the horse, ready to devour another.

"Caraxes," Daemon scolds, making the said beast whine in response, "back up," he commands in High Valyrian.

The dragon does not want to and vocalizes this. His master does not flinch though, "submit to me, dragon."

I figure Caraxes might have smelled our food which was why he was acting out. I then walk off to get some for the creature. Aiden watches as I grab the remaining uncooked parts of the elk, as well as a few rabbits. Promptly he is by my side, helping me carry the meat.

We then make our way to the prince and his dragon. Caraxes looks my way when we near and whines.

"Enough whining, boy," I speak in High Valyrian, throwing the severed elk leg to his mouth. He snaps at his gratefully and I wait a few moments before throwing the rabbits towards him.

Daemon looks past me, eyeing Aiden dirtily as he hands me the rest of the meat, "that's enough from you."

Aiden ignores him as watches me throw the final rabbit to Caraxes mouth.

"You! Boy!" Daemon blurts, "sit back dow and enjoy your dinner."

"I should not leave the lady in front of a restless dragon," Aiden replies, not even looking at the prince when he says this, eyes are glued on me.

Daemon breaks into a deep laugh. He moves back, walking behind me as he goes to Aiden, "the Blood Wyrm will not dare harm her, especially not in front of me,"

I instinctively bring my hands up in front of Caraxes when he begins to do his telltale clicking sound. I turn to Daemon as he pierces a look of daggers at Aiden, "you on the other hand-"

"Stop!" I blurt in High Valyrian for both of the agitated dragons. I give Caraxes one last look before placing myself between Daemon and Aiden. I eye the former, "enough. Take Caraxes and go."

"No," he says, not tearing his eyes from Aiden, "I will not leave my woman here with a-"

"She is not your woman!" Aiden bites back, "if she was, she would be a Targaryen by no-"

"Oh, by all means," Daemon barks, "she's been so tainted that to Caraxes, we are the one in th-"

"Yet you have no honor to court her formally," Aiden seethes, "you spoiled piece of fuck-"

Daemon does not hesitate and lunges, but of course to do this, he had to shove me to the side. The prince can already imagine how he'll scream when he severs the brown haired moron's head off.

Caraxes whines in anger as I topple before him. It is the fire he breathes overhead that stops Daemon and Aiden from continuing their tussle.

"Calm yourself," I cry in High Valyrian, feeling tears prick at the corner of my eyes in fear of what the dragon would do because of his reckless rider.

Daemon shoves Aiden away and raises a hand at his dragon, "calm yourself, Caraxes!"

Caraxes ceases his fire breathing and whines angrily at Daemon. I roll to my back in fear, pushing myself away from the dragon when he dips his head down to me.

Daemon turns to me and moves to help me up. I swat him away, seething in anger, "get your hands off me."

Caraxes growls.

Daemon steps forward, "Caraxes can sense-"

"Oh, now you care about Caraxes," I scream back, standing from the ground, "but you were alright with him burning the fucking whole forest down out of your spite just seconds ago."

"Calm yourself," he speaks to me as if I was his dragon.

"I will NOT calm down for you!" I quip violently over my breath. I shove him back, "I'm tainted, am I?" I growl, eyes burning at his choice of words, "tainted by the fucking men who abuse me? Parade me as if I meat? As if I am their property?!"

He calls out my name but it makes me sick to my stomach. I seethe, "fuck you!" I growl, "get your fucking dragon out of my sight. Or have him burn me, I don't care!"

Daemon watches as I step away from him and scream out, "EVERYONE OF YOU LEAVE! YOU SELFISH PIGS WERE NEVER INVITED IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

"My lady!" Abigail cries out in her soft, concerned voice as I storm towards her.

"Tell everyone the hunt is over. We're all leaving."

"But my lady-"

"I did not mean it like that," Daemon speaks in High Valyrian, cutting my handmaiden off as he tails after me.

"It doesn't matter how you meant it!" I growl, grabbing a spoon from the table, throwing it at him, "you think I am lesser than you!"

"That's not-"

"YOU THINK I'M A FUCKING WHORE!" I screech, "but you know what?!" I step towards him, "I'll accept it, cause maybe I am. But will NEVER be yours."

Daemon looks down at me, still at the rage directed at him.

I raise my voice in his mother tongue, making sure every word will sting, "I would rather marry pig than be with someone who kisses me then spits on my bones. At least then I wouldn't feel so degraded when he takes a shit in my house because I expected that."

"What then?" he scoffs in the same language, pointing to Aiden, "you'd rather choose him?"

I fake excitement, "sounds like a fine idea!"

"I fucking waited for you," Daemon growls, stepping so close to me that our bodies were nearly touching, "I waited for you for years, not taking the company of any other-"

"Oh!" I clap my hands, "give the boy a prize for not sticking his dick into the first hole he sees!"

"I waited on your s-"

"I DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING! I never forced you to keep me company, but by the gods, I was fucking raped, Daemon!" I heave, chest rising and falling.

Abigail gasps.

"You have no idea how it feels to be called tainted by a man who you thought--" my tears cut me off. I grip my hands tightly into a fist and push them against my face.

Daemon is utterly defeat. His chest is tight. He can barely think, yet he manages to ask, "thought what, my love?" he whispers desperately in his language, eyes urging me to continue.

I groan, ripping at my hair, "you don't even fucking know?" I look at him through tears, feeling something like a poison run though my whole body.

"I won't know if you don't tell me, now won't I?" he whines.

There it is, the harsh flick of his tone that he can't seem to shake off.

"Fuck off," I growl, wiping my tears harshly away. I point accusingly to his mount, "take Caraxes and GO!"

Caraxes reacts to his name and whines, announcing himself. I ignore him though, turning away from his rider, commanding my servants to make haste to leave.

I should have known his pride would have never allowed him to come to me first, and yet, I am still surprised that he lasted a month without my presence. And so, out of my own weighing conscience, I decide to come to him first.

When I send word of my visit to King's Landing however, I am met with a reply that the Prince had left without word and that they knew not when he would return. I then wrote that I would like to know of his return so that I might discuss matters with him, and I was told in turn not to expect word anytime soon for the prince was known to leave months at a time.

The last letter I sent was saying I did not care when I would receive word of the prince's arrival, so long as I received it. My last reply was that they would send word the moment the prince returns.

But this was all a year ago.

It would be a terrible lie to say that I have forgotten about Daemon with all the tasks and the fortune I grew to have within the time, but the truth was, I didn't. More than ever I think I know his features better with how much time I spent recalling them.

In fact now, as the year welcomed it's second season, I was awfully excited to be invited to the palace for the celebration of the birth of Princess Rhaeyra's second child, just in case it was that someone did forget to tell me of the prince's return and I would have a chance to meet with him.

"Congratulations, your majesty," I smile at Rhaenyra who was rocking her newborn babe in her arms.

"Thank you, lady Rubin," she smiles, "he is so sweet and barely fusses," when she says this, she turns from her baby, then instinctively to her guard, ser Harwin.

I watch them look at each other. But I cannot help but turn my gaze upon the princess' first born, who was being held by a handmaiden behind the princess. His hair was affectionatle pushed back by the said handmaiden.

I bite my lower lip to hold in a chuckle of amusement, "I'm jealous of you, your highness."

"Why is that?" she responds as well in High Valyrian.

Lord Laenor comes up next to his wife and coos at the baby in Rhaenyra's arms. I smile, "your babies are beautiful."

Laenor turns to me when I say this, as does Rhaenyra, eyes sparkling at the compliment.

"I thought you'd have children at this point," Rhaenyra says, making me chuckle.

I cross my arms, "honestly, part of me thought so as well."

"And I always thought you'd end up with prince Daemon, yet here he is, expecting a child with my sister," Laenor says, proceeding to coo at his son again.

I knit my brows, "what?"

Rhaenyra turns back to me from her son, face falling upon seeing my expression.

I ask again, "what did you say?"

Laenor turns to me, indifferent, "oh. Have you not heard? My sister is with child. She says she believes it to be a girl, but the maesters-"

"Out of wedlock?" I quip, making ser Harwin shift in his place uncomfortably.

Laenor looks like he saw a ghost, "what?! What nonesense is-"

"You do not know," Rhaenyra states, lips pulling downward, "they married months ago and have since been traveling on dragonback."

I step back involuntarily as my knees give in.

"Are you alright?" Laenor asks.

I feel my corset constrict around me as my pulse quickens. For a moment, I swear I feel the room spin. I step back a few more times and speak words that do not match my actions, "I'm fine."

Rhaenyra looks at me in concern, "ser Harwin, help Lady Rubin to-"

"No," I raise my hand, halting Harwin before he can come any closer, "I suddenly am feeling the effects of not having eaten breakfast."

"Would you like a glass of water, my lady?" Harwin asks.

"Don't trouble yourself," I shake my head and turn to Rhaenyra, not appreciating the look she was giving me, "congratulations again, my princess. I shall be stepping out for some air."

Rhaenyra does nothing but watch me walk away.

I walk and walk and walk aimlessly. I feel like a headless chicken, and yet I am surprised as it seems my legs were actually taking me somewhere. I find that I brought myself to the dragon pit.

I pathetically walk in, mumbling Caraxes under my breath, over and over and over again. I obviously hear no response. Not only was my voice too quiet for the dragon to hear anyway, but in my very bones I knew that he would not be here.

And so in the same pathetic manner, I curl up in my arms and break into a sob. I rub my eyes roughly and whine out words of regret as the wretched smell of the place finally become apparent to me. The scent brings back the memory of the first time I rode on Caraxes. I had felt defeated before we flew up in the air, but when I came back down, I was invincible. I felt that all worries were blown away in the wind, yet now I was imagining him riding off with another woman.

"My dear ruby," a voice speaks up, making me abruptly turn over to where the sound sourced.

My lifted spirit drops back down when I see it was not prince Daemon that called me, but the young prince Aemond with worry laced in his shimmering violet eyes.

I release a shudder, attempting to calm myself. When I was calm enough, I speak, "you know," I sniffle, "it is not right for you to call me that, young prince."

His cheeks begin to turn a shade of scarlet, "but that is what your name means and what your emblem holds... a ruby."

I shake my head, "but am I your dear, Aemond?"

He clenches his jaw and turns his head, willing the burning of his cheeks away, "you are my subject, and my subjects are all dear to me."

This does not fail to make me chuckle.

"And it is impertinent of you to call me by my name," he adds, beginning to draw nearer to me, "but I shall allow it."

I grin softly at the child, "what pure generosity, my liege."

Once he is standing beside me, I chuckle again as I look down on his shiny white hair, "my, how you've grown since I last laid my eyes upon you."

He shuffles in his place smoothening out the sleeves of his coat.

"How old are you? Seven?"

Aemond stills, turning to me with furrowed brows, "I am a year and ten!"

"My," I chuckle, "how mature you are now, my Aemond."

He opened his mouth to say something, but it seems he forgot it as he just stands there with his jaw hanging.

I take this moment to turn away from him and wipe my face with the back of my hands, "what brings you here, my prince?"

"I... I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Me?" I turn back to him, smirking, "I thought to visit Caraxes but-"

"My uncle is not here."

"Yes," I smile softly, "as I learned myself just this morning."

Aemond then asks me a question that makes me still, "do you love him?"

I take a moment to respond and I look around the expanse of the room before I do, "yes."

Aemond ceases his breathing.

"I love Caraxes very much."

He pulls his head back upon hearing that.

I turn to him, leaning down with a mischievous grin, "I was thinking of stealing him all for myself."

The boy looks up at me in astonishment. I break into a laugh, remembering the expression well, "I jest, darling boy, Caraxes is fiercely loyal to his master."

Aemond's expression fades.

I press my lips in a smile, "might you introduce me to your own mount instead?"

The curve of my lips flattens when Aemond's cheeks burn again. He opens his mouth, releasing a stutter before he finally forms out, "I do not have one."

I still, "I apologize," I shake my head, "I did not know-"

"I come here because I like to think I can steal a dragon myself. I shall introduce you the very moment I have one. I promise you, my lady," he says with utmost certainty.

"Aemond," I move closer to him, raising my hands, "may I?"

He gives me a questioning look before realizing I was asking for his permission to touch him. After he nods, I place my hands on both his shoulders and give him a sincere look, "a true man does not go back on word, much less should a prince make promises he does not care to keep and will forget in due time."

"Is that why you're crying?"

"What?"

"Prince Daemon made you an empty promise?"

I pull away from him after he says this.

Aemond is taken aback by the withdrawal and immediately regrets his words, "I am not like him! I will not be a prince who makes empty promises."

"Lady Rubin!"

Both Aemond and I turn to whom called out for me, and soon enough, a brown haired man jogs towards us, a look of relief is on his face, "the servants said they saw you heading here," he catches his breath, "I came running the moment Princess Rhaenyra told me you were visiting."

"Lord Aiden," I smile at him, "it has been a while since we've spoke."

"Yes, and you are as radiant as ever, my lady."

Aemond gives him a dirty look while I chuckle softly, "and your words are as honeyed as ever. I do wonder how your wife feels about that."

"Shall I ask?" he smirks, making my face contort. He then bends down on one knee and raises a hand at me, "will you marry me, lady Rubin?"

My face contorts yet again, but this time I end up laughing.

"What a moron," Aemond scoffs in High Valyrian.

My laughter ceases upon hearing this. I turn to the boy, feeling awfully proud of him, "my, our clever little prince knows to speak High Valyrian now!"

Aemond turns to me, cheeks catching on fire yet again.

Aiden turns from the boy, then to me, huffing, standing once again, "your hand in marriage may be perhaps the most challenging thing to acquire in the whole kingdom."

I turn to the Lord, feeling my witty retort leave me when I see him nibble at his lower lip and run his hand through his hair.

"Still, the Greystokes are known to be vigorous and I intend to show you this, if you so allow me," he extends his hand out to me.

I shock him when I do not hesitate to take it and reply, "alright."

Aiden's eyes widen, as does Aemond's. It takes the lord a moment to reply, "wonderful."

"My prince," a servant walks in after announcing herself over to the seated man.

Daemon, who was playing with his newborn daughter, turns from crib to the woman who walked over, "a letter has arrived for you."

Laena, who had entered the room, coming from a bath, asks upon hearing that, "who is it from?"

Daemon opens the letter, dismissing his servant with a nod. Laena watches as her husband's face contorts upon reading the contents of the letter.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Nothing," he roughly crumples the letter and stands from his chair, "a wedding invitation."

"Oh?" her voice is interested, "whose of?"

He throws the letter to the fire place, pulling an annoyed look, "does it matter? We're not going. You've just given birth."

"Yes, but I would at least like to know who-"

"Some fucking lord I could not care less about," he angrily states, "he's got some nerve inviting me when he knows how my blood boils at the sight of him."

Laena releases a breath. She walks over to him and gives him a calming embrace. It takes a moment for Daemon to melt against her touch.

"Think nothing of it, husband," she hums in their native tongue, "I will melt all your worries away."

He finds no real comfort in the musings of his wife though. It is apparent with how he rides Caraxes later that night.

#daemon targaryen #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon angst #daemon slow burn #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x you #daemon x reader #aemond x reader #wink wink

[forgottenfourr]

i saw you in a dream - university smau

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chapter five - dreams✏️

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warning: mentions of insanity, insomnia, and partial (very very small mention) of derealization!!

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a/n: from now on soul from p1h and mingyu from svt will also be smaller characters in the story so don’t be confused when they show up randomly in the next chapter!! they are just going to be a fun comedic relief characters :) i will put a short character reintroduction before the next update

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you have struggled with sleeping your entire life. never being able to fall asleep and then when you eventually pass out from pure exhaustion, the sleep was restless. you lost count of the doctors your parents took you to as a kid. each one coming to the same conclusion. there was nothing wrong with you perse. at least, nothing medically wrong. all of them told your parents that you'll grow out of it one day. that there was nothing they could do on their part besides run more tests that would evidently draw no conclusion and would just be a waste of time for both you and the doctors.

so you had to learn to live with it. you held onto hope that one day you would just magically grow out of it. but as the years drew on and you continued to sleep a most 10-15 hours a week, you just grew used to it. it was irritating most of the time. the constant drowsiness and dark circles under your eyes that never seem to go away.

due to your lack of sleep, you’ve never really had dreams before. at least, none that you could remember.

but recently that has changed. it seems now that every time you are able to sleep, even if it is just for a few minutes, you are drifted away into another dream.

but something is different about these dreams. when you wake up, you remember everything that happened in them. most importantly, you remember the boy that’s there in every dream. the boy you can’t seem to recognize. the boy you sworn you’ve never seen before. and you would surly remember him. he’s beautiful. his hair a white blonde and his brown eyes that look as if the entire universe is in them. and for someone you don’t know, you have grown quite fond of him. you don’t understand how he’s always there, his bright and warming smile welcoming you back to wherever this world is with him. but you aren’t complaining about it.

the dreams are long. or well they feel long at least. in the real world you could only be sleeping for 30 minutes but in the dream world you have already been there for days. you like the dream world. you find yourself anxiously waiting for the next time you fall asleep so you can go back there. so you can see mystery boy again.

neither of you ever bothered to ask for each others name. in fact, you guys don’t talk much. it’s more of a mutual understanding that you both are there together and are happy in each others presence. neither feeling the need to break the peaceful silence you have created. you cherish all of the times you guys have spent together. from the time you guys went cliff jumping to when he taught you how to play the guitar. you’re scared that you won’t be able to go back one day. that for some reason the next time you fall asleep there will just be black. even if you don’t understand why these dreams are happening or who he is, you yearn for them. even if it’s all fake. if it is just something your subconscious mind came up with.

of course, you haven’t told your friends about your dreams. sure, jisung might understand. or at least try to. but the others will just think you’re going crazy. which honestly, might be true.

you too have thought about the possibility of these dreams being some sort of sign of insanity or something else of the sort. it would make sense. you’ve been spreading yourself too thin for the past few months. never knowing when to say no and always wanting others around you to feel appreciated and happy. minho is constantly berating you for being a people pleaser, but you don’t know how to stop. and lately, people have taken notice of your kindness and the way you would drop everything instantly to help someone. between work, university, and your social life, you feel your grasp of yourself slowly slipping away from you.

the only thing that keeps you from losing your grip completely are the dreams. they make you feel happy and safe like before. maybe you were relying too much on the dreams but what does it matter? if you're going to have them you might as well enjoy them. enjoy him.

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you got to the studio before chan this time. still reminiscing on the fantasy you were living just moments before.

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#i.n #jeongin #skz #stray kids #i.n fanfic #i.n smau #i.n x reader #jeongin fanfic #jeongin smau #jeongin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids smau #skz smau #yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin smau #yang jeongin fanfic #stray kids au #skz au #skz fake texts #stray kids fake texts #university au #j

[dreamywriter143]

Nga Yawne Lu Oer

Title: Nga Yawne Lu Oer

Genre: Fluff, Slow-Burn, Unrequited love, Love-Triangle/Square?, Angst, SFW, NSFW (like one chapter later on, MDNI), Romance.

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: Depictions of battles, blood/weapons, NSFW (later on) and it’s NOT incest. (That will also be revealed, much later on) Also, all the characters are AGED-UP (Neteyam and Ao’nung are the eldest being 18 etc…..)

Parings: Neteyam X Reader, Lo’ak X Reader, Ao’nung X Reader

Summary: Y/N, the twin sister of Tsireya and eldest daughter of Ronal and Tonowari is faced with new challenges and obstacles as the Sully’s arrive to Awa'atlu. Y/N cant help but be amazed by the new Na’vi, who intrigue her as well as raise a sense of connection within them. What will she do when lives are in danger? When the RDA attack? Or more Importantly, when her heart is torn between the two brothers who steal her breathe away upon first contact?

Word count: 2.9k

*****A/N: Before you start, I'd like to point out that Roxto IS NOT part of the group that aids Ao'nung when they harass Kiri. Roxto only teases them once throughout the entire movie. And that was at the first meeting. He's such a sweet boy!! 🥺******

Chapter Ten: Freak

________________________________

After Y/N and Kiri had given Tuk her bracelet, which she was as ecstatic about, they decided to relax on the shore. Kiri floated in the shallows, looking into the sand below her as Y/N sat beside her, taking in the sun.

She felt refreshed. A comfortable as welcomed silence falls between them, enjoying each other's company. Y/N loved the way the sun warmed her up all the way down to her toes. The scratches over her body seemed to have started to heal. She decided on making a ointment when she goes home for her calluses later.

Y/N ears twitch at the sound of footsteps approaching her, she opens her eyes glancing towards the sound. Her eyes widen noticing Ao'nung walking towards them, three of his friends behind him snickering. Roxto was nowhere to be seen. Y/N quickly looks away turning towards Kiri to nudge her.

"What is she doing?" One of the friend says teasingly. Y/N successfully nudges Kiri but she is so immersed in her world,  she doesn't budge.

"I don't know"

"She's just looking at the sand" another points out, snickering. Feeling her annoyance reach her limit, Y/N stands up, after noticing Kiri starting to respond to her nudges. 

Y/N looks at Ao'nung, who effectively avoids her warning stare, looking past her at his target.

Kiri.

She gets up wiping her eyes, seeing the four boys and Y/N. Y/N tried to cover them from Kiri's view sensing hostility radiate from the group,

"Huh?-" she questions looking between them. "-what did you say?" She asks still confused. Y/N feels grateful she didn't hear their laughter. She also didn't want to stick around long enough for them to say anything else hurtful. She turns to Kiri grabbing her hand, ready to get out of there. She takes a step forward intending on getting out of there without facing her brother.

Ao'nung steps in, blocking Y/N from doing so. He looks at Kiri, glad she asked him a question, a evil smirk plays around his lips, ignoring the pleading eyes Y/N sent his way.

"Are you some kind of...freak?" Ao'nung asks, his eyes solely on Kiri. Y/N felt her heart drop as her brothers words. She felt Kiri tense under her hold, she had to get out of there. Before more damage could be inflicted. 

The smaller friend jumps into view.

"He asked if you were a freak!" He mocks making Kiri flinch slightly. Y/N tightens her hold on Kiri's hand. She turns to Ao'nung deciding she had no option but to intervene. Walking out silently was out of the picture at this point. After weeks of avoiding him, she steps in front of Kiri effectively blocking their view of her.

"She isn't, now back off Ao'nung" Y/N hisses warningly. Her ears flatten at her own harsh words. Ao'nung looks into Y/N eyes, nothing but disgust written in his features. He had to ignore the pang in his chest after it's been so long since his sister even spoke to him. And she looked furious.

"Oh? So you can speak?!" He ask titling his head back to let out a mocking laugh.

"Back off, let us leave. I don't want to start anything" Y/N says sternly, trying to get by Ao'nung, but with every step she takes, he mirrors it, blocking her exit, making her stop each time.

"Oh C'mon now. You don't speak to me for weeks and the only time you do, it's to defend this freak?!" He growls venom dripping from his words. Y/N flinched at his tone. He also sounded hurt.

Kiri looks up, anger written all over her face. "I'm not a freak!" She says making the guys snicker. Ao'nung turns to her, stepping past Y/N  in front of Kiri.

"Are you sure? I mean, you're not even true Na'vi. Look at these hands? I mean look at them!" He says trying to grab Kiri's free hand. Y/N hisses pushing Kiri further behind her.  Noticing how Ao'nung was trying to grab Kiri's tail, she tries to swat his hand away. In doing so Ao'nung grabs Y/N's hand. Holding it tightly, making the H/C Na'vi flinch at how tight the hold was. Ao'nung glares at her, his hand not letting hers go.

"Hey!" A voice yells, calling all attention to him. Ao'nung let go of Y/N's hand as Lo'ak approaches the group. A smile plays across his lips.

"Back off fish lips" he says standing up to Ao'nung, sizing him up. Y/N takes the distraction as in opportunity to get Kiri out of their circling group. She walks back to the group wanting to pull Lo'ak out of there as well.

"look, another four fingered freak" Ao'nung mocks staring Lo'ak down.

"Look at his little baby tail." Another mocks going to grab his tail. Lo'ak whips his tail hissing in warning. Y/N intervenes swatting his hands away. "Don't touch him!" She says threateningly. She tried to stand near Lo'ak but the other guys kept her at bay,  blocking her. 

Watching Y/N defend Lo'ak ignited something within Ao'nung. He shoves Lo'ak further into the circle as the others try grabbing at his tail, as one of the friends held Y/N back. He held her against him, his hold making the girl wince in pain. She tried to move but it was proving to be quite hard,

"Leave us alone!" Kiri demands seeing Y/N struggle to get her hand free from the taller male Na'vi that held her away from Lo'ak.

"He's not normal"

"Look at his tail? It's very cute!

" Aw baby tail" they chant circling around him, poking and pulling at his sides.

Watching Lo'ak try to hold them back, Y/N shoves the male against her harshly. "Ftang Nga!! (Stop it!!) Please!" She demands, but it comes out as a plea.

The boy she had shoved gets  annoyed with her antics and pushs Y/N away from him. A little too hard, causing her to lose her balance and fall face first into the sand. Her chin receiving the brunt of the impact.

Ao'nung stops his teasing, his eyes widening when Y/N grunts in pain. She wipes the sand of her face, seeing traches of blood. Her eyes widen as she feels the numbing pain on her chin.

Ao'nung opens his mouth to scold his friend but is shoved back, aggressively, as Neteyam stands before him. With so much commotion no one had noticed when Neteyam came storming his way towards the group from the sea. He points his finger into Ao'nung's chest threateningly as the three boys stand behind Ao'nung. Watching carefully.

"You heard what she said, leave them alone" he seethes. His eyes glance towards Y/N who stumbles a little standing up. A clear cut on her chin where she had the most impact. it was bleeding profusely, the sand holding traces of her blood. He felt his muscles clench at the sight.

'How dare they lay a hand on her'

"Aw big brother coming to-" Ao'nung holds his hand up silencing his friend. Neteyam holds his glare, every fibre in his being wanted to attack, put them in their place. For what the said to Kiri, for how they were treating Lo'ak. For most importantly, for laying a finger on Y/N. Who was protecting his family.

"Back off......Now" Neteyam adds, his eyes landing on the lackies that stood behind Ao'nung. Ao'nung takes a step back, he takes a quick glance towards Y/N seeing her wince when her hand gingerly touched her chin. The scratch looked deep.

"Smart choice" Neteyam growls, anger surging through him. He turns around, walking to Y/N.  When he's in front of her she looks up. Neteyam felt his tense shoulders soften as her doe like eyes looked up into his. His fingers brush against her chin, assessing the damage. It was deep, crimson pouring out of the cut. He looks to make sure there is no more damage before turning to Kiri. Seeing the sadness in her face only fueled his rage.

"And from know on I need you to respect my sister. And learn basic decency not to lay your hands on a female." Neteyam adds looking at the male who had shoved Y/N into the sand. He was looking for an excuse to beat his face into the ground. But as the oldest Sully, he had to be cool. Maintain peace.

The male Navi hisses threateningly.

"Let's go" Neteyam urges, pulling Lo'ak with him towards Kiri. He turns to Y/N who shakes her head.

"Go on without me. I'll see you soon" she whispers turning to Ao'nung. Neteyam and Lo'ak look conflicted. They didn't want to leave without her, so they stayed put. Watching Y/N leave their side.

Y/N approaches her brother and his friends. A scowl prominent. "What were you thinking! Ao'nung, this is low! Even for you!" She says, solely focused on her brother. Ao'nung tries to respond back but his friends respond for him.

"You're a traitor Y/N. How dare you look down on us when you are getting all friendly with them! They are freaks. The whole family. And now, so are you. You disgust me" he seethes spitting on the sand in disgust. Y/N looked at the Na'vi. She felt her eyes sting at his words as Ao'nung let him freely.

"Lo'ak" Neteyam calls warningly.

"I got this bro"

Y/N turns to see Lo'ak come towards them. He locks eyes with Y/N, he catches the build up of tears in her eyes she refused to let fall. He gently moves Y/N to the side so he's facing the boys. Mainly the boy who had insulted him, his family and mainly Y/N.

"I know this hand is funny, look, I'm a freak. Alien-" he says mockingly showing his hands. Twirling it around for a better view. The boys seem amused, even Ao'nung as he watched from the sidelines.

"-But it can do something really cool. Watch, first I tie it really tight-" he says putting his attention on his hand that he was demonstrating. "-okay. Then-" Lo'ak lands two quick punches on the male Na'vi sending him flying to the ground. His nose bleed profusely as he looked up in shock.

"It's called a punch bitch, don't ever touch Y/N or my sister again!" He growls. The boys hiss before lunging after Lo'ak. Y/N being the closest tries to calm them down, trying to stop them from hitting one another.

"Stop!! Stop it!!" She screams trying to find a way to rip them apart from one another. From the corner of her eyes she sees Neteyam stride over.

Y/N let's out a sigh seeing him walk over to them. She seems relived thinking the older boy would break them apart but to her surprise he punches one of the boys down before landing a kick in the stomach of Ao'nung.

"Hold on!! "

"Stop it"

"That's so stupid" Kiri yells walking to stand beside Y/N. Knowing how much trouble they'll be in for this Y/N sighs out annoyed. She had to stop this or her father will have her head as well as Ao'nung's.

"Ow my tail"

"My ear, let go!"

"He's got my ear!!! "

"Guys!!! Seriously! Stop it!"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N takes a step forward intending on stopping the group. But she stumbles. She feels a familiar heat take over, her vision slightly blurring. She stills, trying to calm down her heart rate.

"Y/N?" Kiri asks concerned. Y/N tries to catch her footing but the black splotches in her vision prevent her from doing so. Her eyes roll back as she is sucked into a void. Her body falling onto the sand motionless.

"Y/N!!!"

Kiri's piercing scream seemed to stop the boys mid-punch. Ao'nung and Neteyam are quick to move towards the unconscious Y/N, as Lo'ak is still under two of the boys.

"Y/N!" Neteyam and Ao'nung call hysterically, reaching her body which Kiri held close to her. 

Kiri looked terrified making eye contact with Neteyam who is the first to reach them. He pulls the unconscious girl into his arms, feeling her body completely go limp, ignoring everyone around him. His trembling hands try to shake her awake, mummering slient prayers to Ewya.

"Is she breathing!!?" Ao'nung gasps leaning over Neteyam to get a better look. His heart raced. He knew this was a vision, he hated the thought of waiting it out but her lack of movement was new. And scary. He couldn't seem to catch her breathing.

Neteyam checks her over, it looked like she had stopped breathing as her lips began to turn a darker shade of purple.  She felt cold to the touch, his heart dropped to his stomach.

"Fuck" he growls under his breath  repositioning her body as he squeezes her nose, tilting her head up as he gently places his lips over hers,  breathing air in. He ignored the rapid beating of his heart as he felt her soft cold lips get enclosed by his.

Lo'ak manages to get free running towards them seeing Neteyam breathe life back into the girl. After the third try Y/N gasps jolting up. Her eyes widen as she tries to understand where she was. Neteyam pulls her close to his body, cradling her. Trying to calm her down after seeing the panic in her eyes.

"Shhh, it's ok. Shhh" he says as Y/N holds his hand for support.

"Neteyam..." she whispers back holding back tears. Her thoughts seem to get scrambled as she tried to piece together what she had seen. She felt like she was drowning.

Seeing his sister in distress and in Neteyam's arms Ao'nung pushes Kiri aside. "Y/N" Aonung calls making her turn to him. When they lock eyes Ao'nung gets the confirmation he needs. It was a vision. And Y/N looked terrified from what she saw.

"Give her to me" Ao'nung demands taking Neteyam off guard. Unconsciously his grip tightens as he stares the Metkayinan boy down. Just as he's about to retort back he gets caught off when Jake runs in. His eyes furious. From hearing the commotion as he was near by, he ran. His disappointment reaching a new height seeing his children in a scuffle with the chiefs son.

"What the hell is going on here!!" He demands seeing all the boys bruised and battered up. His eyes dance from Na'vi to Na'vi landing on  Y/N who slowly sits up still in Neteyam's arms.

Feeling anger surge throughout him he looks to his sons. "With me, NOW!" He demands as  Kiri quickly goes after Jake. Lo'ak reluctantly follows knowing he had no room for argument.

Neteyam looks down at Y/N seeing as she was able to catch her breath. Before he can ask if she's ok, Ao'nung snatches the girl from under him. Ao'nung gestures to Jake who was waiting, Neteyam glares the boy down before getting up.

He begins to follow his family, looking back to see Y/N being held bridal style by Ao'nung. His heart ached. He desperately wanted to see if she was alright, see her smile at him and reassure him she was ok.

Ao'nung began to walk the other way.

Y/N peeks over at Neteyam, her eyes still filled with fear.

~~~~~~~~

"What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?" Jake growls pulling the boys inside the hut. Neteyam and Lo'ak lock eyes before answering in unison.

"Stay out of trouble"

"Stay out of trouble! That's right"

"It was my fault" Neteyam begins taking a step forwards. He tries to stand in between his father and his brother who looked guilty. Jake holds up his hand in warning.

"I don't think so, you've got to stop taking the heat for this knucklehead" Jake replies his eyes on his younger son. Neteyam begrudgingly licks his lips glancing at his brother.

"Look dad, Ao'nung was picking on Kiri. Called her a freak" Lo'ak exclaims throwing his hands up. Jake stops mid sentence taking in what his son had told him. He felt conflicted.

"And they were pushing Y/N around for defending Kiri! They...T-They hurt her!" Lo'ak says his voice cracking at the thought. When Y/N hand landed on the ground scraping her chin. Lo'ak felt so helpless.

Jake freezes up. Why would Ao'nung, her own brother allow such thing?

"Is that when she passed out?" Jake asks, referring to when he saw Y/N struggling to stay conscious in Neteyam's arms.

Neteyam tenses up shaking his head. He wipes his bloodly lip before replying. "No. She...passed out afterwards" he says his head deep in thought. This was exactly what Kiri told him about. Except this time, she wasn't breathing. It couldn't have been a heat stroke. It had to be something else.

Jake let's out a deep sigh turning to Lo'ak.  "Go apologize to Ao'nung"

"What?!" Neteyam sighs at his brother surprise. Unconsciously licking his lips, which stung like crazy.

"He's the chief's son, you understand? I don't care how you do it, just go make peace. Just go" he says dismissing Lo'ak. He grumbles before leaving the Marui.

Shaking his head, Neteyam begins to follow his brother when his father stops him.

"Hey, so what the other guys look like?" He asks as he didn't quite catch their state since he was blinded by rage at the moment. Neteyam smirks slightly.

"Worse"

"That's good"

"A lot worse" Neteyam adds making Jake chuckle. Before he can leave Jake stops him again.

"I want you to apologize to Ronal. For her daughter getting involved" he says making Neteyam nod automatically. It was an order, he would oblige. "Yes sir" he replies making Jake crack a small smile.

"Get outta here"

________________________________

I LOVED this scene in the movie, my boy Neteyam being all fierce.

-Author

Tag List:

@blushsage @avatar4life @lilgurlbeoncrack @anxietydrogz @yeosxxx

#romance #avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar fic #avatar twow #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #agnst #neteyam x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #aonung x y/n #aonung x reader #aonung #loak fluff #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #loak #avatar imagine #avatar way of water #slow burn #atwow fluff #love triangle #unrequited infatuations

[kpchrs]

I think between shippers (and this is me saying this, an outsider to both ships) there’s Def the nagging voice saying “Coriolanus sucks irl” in everyone’s mind

So that’s Def a part of the civility in my opinion. Like why fight when the main guy in your ship is the worst guy alive. Bonding moment IG lol

LMFAO You are so right, Anon. Bonding moment for real. As some people in the post's comment said, "we both share the toxic blond" and also "we're trauma-bonded".

But I think it's not really a nagging voice. We all know Coriolanus Snow fucking SUCKS. If you compile all of my thoughts about him from everywhere, the majority is me clowning on him actually. I want to do violence to him.

It's funny, and I'm sorry for the out of topic, but this...wish makes me fantasising about a "Coriolanus Snow & Conscience!Reader" Crack AU. I've told some of my friends but just for fun I will tell a little bit here:

Okay, the premise is right in Chapter 1, we the readers/the fans whatever you wanna call us, get inside his head and it's up to us to try to put him on a good(?) path. (Emphasis on TRY.) Or actually, it's just an excuse or catharsis for us, especially me, to clown him in his head tho, because his thoughts are so deranged, yeah? It will be fun to mock him, tease him, and "scold" him, and we will bicker a lot, and he can't do aaanything about it.

So it's like this (below has some real excerpt of Chapter 1 of the book [page 3-4] but switched to present tense):

This morning he went to her room at daybreak, only to find both his cousin and the shirt missing. Not a good sign. [...] He thinks of people putting a price on her. With her long, pointed nose and skinny body, Tigris is no great beauty, but she has a sweetness, a vulnerability that invites ab-- NOOOOOOOOO! WHAT ARE YOU SAYING ABOUT YOUR OWN COUSIN?! The voice -- scream -- comes out of nowhere and echoes very near in his ears (inside him?). To say it surprises Coriolanus is an understatement. Grabbing on air, he fails to stop himself from slipping and falling on his bottom.

Lol.

I'm not sure I want to write it because writing, even more in English, is daunting, but it's really fun to think about. It will be on the Snowbaird route, though. I imagine we will follow his love story with Lucy Gray, but I think...we will unfortunately fight over her.

LOOK! At Lucy Gray's arrival, The Voice screeches annoyingly loud in his head. It's my girl! Even after weeks, Coriolanus still hasn't decided if The Voice is a crazy part of him or an entirely separate entity somehow attached to his mind. However, the possessive term it used tugs the wrong string deep in his chest. Whether it makes sense or not, he hisses at it, 'She's not your girl.' The brief silence that follows is the most peace he gets these recent days. Oh shit, you are jealous. 'I am not.' You totally are. Just like with Billy Taupe. C'mon, I'm inside your head. I know. 'I am not.' Listen, Coryo-- 'Stop calling me that.' --just accept that Lucy Gray is everyone's girl, okay? She's my girl. She's not really just yours. 'Who in the Gem of Panem is everyone? Who even are you?' I can't tell you that. It's against the rules. 'What rules?!' Uh-uh, still can't tell. Give it up already, Coryo. Coriolanus is losing his mind. He has had a talking creature inside his head for weeks and it is just now he truly feels he is losing his mind.

Lol. Writing is hard, huh. Okay, I'm not sure this is categorised as a character & reader fic now that I used third person, not second person pov, but eh xD

I'm willing to talk about it more though, if anyone is interested!

Thank you for the ask and the space to bullshit, Anon!

#thg #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #idk what to tag this #coriolanus snow #snowbaird #lucy gray baird #crack au #kris on crack #kris got asks

[carolmunson]

good cop, bad cop III: stella

“I can hardly stand it when he’s away for a night – When he’s away for a week, I nearly go wild. And when he comes back, I cry on his lap like a baby.” 

recommended reading: part one, part two: daddy lessons. 

the warnings for the fic as a whole are as follows: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, daddy kink, dom!steve, dom!eddie, sadist!eddie (also soft, he can’t help it), brat!reader, sadist!steve (not soft at all unfortch), bdsm aligning punishments and actions, humiliation, degradation, dom training, forced orgasm. female anatomy mention. p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), angst, face slapping (in like a bad way), severe name calling, some dubcon at the end of chapter two. ultimate warning is that part two is really intense. if you’re sensitive to semi non-con violence i would recommend not reading. 

authors note: 

welcome to the end, y’all! also, the way this fic is crushing on AO3, wow. but i also wanted to give a big hug to everyone who might have been effected badly by part two. i got some comments on AO3 of some people getting emotional over the story, not hate comments or anything, but just that it was really intense. 

i hope this soothes ya souls a little, we even put some comedy in there for funsies. (when i say we, i mean me). i found it a little difficult for me to write a character who doesn’t automatically just forgive steve, cause in my personal life, i probably would. but we made it! we did it! i hope you enjoy! 

lastly, a big thank you to @reborn-rollergirl who was the inspiration for this entire romp. 

Eddie waited until he heard Steve’s car pull out of the driveway to wake you. He let you fall asleep with your head on his lap for at least an hour, giving you a chance to settle and come back to yourself on your own. When you woke up, the pain really set in, your adrenaline of the moment fully faded. You groaned while looking up into Eddie’s face, his soft and caring expression immediately making you feel safe. 

“Let’s get you patched up, yeah?” he asked. 

“I don’t – I don’t want to go out there,” you confessed, terrified that Steve would have a second wind. 

“He’s not here, baby, he left. He went for a drive,” he said, “You’re safe. I promise, you’re safe. I’m here.” 

You gingerly got up from his lap, shimmying on your stomach until your feet touched the ground. The skin on your hips, thighs, and backside shrieked with spurts of stinging pain at any exertion from your lower body. Standing up was a slow process, inching upwards vertebrae by vertebrae. 

“Are you?” you retorted, anger flaring in your chest, “Because it didn’t feel like that while you just sat there and watched him fucking beat me.”  Eddie stood up and met you at the edge of the bed. He looked down at you, his eyes shining with guilt, and for a moment didn’t know what to say. 

“I deserve that,” he said, “But I’m here now. Please let me help you, let me know how I can make it better.” 

“Make it better?” you asked, dynamics had dropped, this was really you talking. 

“What was I supposed to do?” he asked a little defensively, “You didn’t tap out. You didn’t safe-word, I thought it was okay!” 

“I didn’t tap out?! Have you ever heard me tell him to stop like that?!” you shrilled incredulously, “You could have gotten up, gotten in between us. You could have punched him in the face, you could have done literally anything!”  Eddie was silent, and hung his head. Nodding with everything you threw at him, knowing you were right. 

“When was I supposed to have tapped out, Ed?” you were getting breathless, trying not to work yourself up to tears again, “And even if I said his safe-word, do you really think he would have stopped? You saw how he looked, he was fucking wild.”  Eddie shook head head no.  “You should have done something,” you said, “You should have known better.” 

“Can I hold you?” he asked, after a moment of silence. You nodded and he gently pulled you into him, the smell of his skin filled your nose as you did your best to relax into his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve done something. I should have stood up for you,” he said, kissing the top of your head, “I wanted to. I was scared, I didn’t want – I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

“I know,” you said, tears pricking your eyes again, “I know. I’m sorry, too. I’m not mad at you, I’m just – you know.”

“I know,” he said, putting his hand against your face, leaning you further into his chest. 

“I thought it was just gonna be a fun night,” you said, your voice getting groggy again, “Like, ‘ha ha, yeah lets make her cum until she cries,’ like the normal shit you both do.” 

Eddie started rocking you back and forth in the dark of the bedroom, “So did I, I thought we were just gonna see who could make you cum the hardest.”

You nodded, letting him rock you in silence, trying to steady your breathing. 

“It obviously would’ve been me,” Eddie muttered. You sniffled and let out a muffled laugh, he really couldn’t help himself. You pulled back in his arms a little, starting to feel more sure of yourself, more aware of your surroundings. The feeling of Eddie’s heart beat against your chest had steadied your own. 

You felt sticky, remembering how Steve had left you after he finished. 

“There’s no way I can do a bath tonight,” you said, looking up at him, “But I need to take a shower–” 

“Okay, let me get that started for you,” Eddie said, starting to turn towards the door. 

“No, no,” you said, “I don’t want you to come in with me.” 

Eddie frowned but tried to hide his disappointment, “I understand.” 

“But I do want you to stay in the bathroom so we can talk,” you said, grinning a little, “Because I saw Vickie in Family Video the other night and I’ve been dying to tell you about it.” 

“I thought she moved to Indianapolis after high school?” he asked, very interested in the gossip. 

“She sure did,” you said knowingly, “But Robin sure didn’t.” 

“While I’m very excited for your tale-telling,” he started, pulling you back in close to him, “I need you to know how much I love you.”  

“I love you, too,” you said, “Like you said, we need to have a big talk about boundaries.” 

“For sure,” he nodded, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Eddie put his hand to your cheek and looked in your eyes, “And you know I love gossip as much as the next girl, but if you just want to gossip so you don’t have to talk about how you’re feeling then you need to tell me that.” 

“Stop knowing me and what I’m about, Munson,” you muttered sarcastically, “I will talk about my feelings when I’m ready to talk about them.” 

He rolled his eyes as you guided him by the hand to the bathroom. He gave you a once over, visibly upset at the state of your lower body – but it was definitely in the line of something Dr. Munson could get taken care of. He helped you take off the catholic school skirt that was now stained with fluids and blood. 

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asked. You surveyed the fabric in his hands, the night flashed in your mind. 

“Ugh, burn it,” you said, stepping into the shower. 

“Aw, okay,” Eddie glumly answered, tossing it into the corner of the room. He sat on the toilet seat, listening to you hiss and whimper at the feeling of the water hitting your wounds. 

“Are you sure you don’t ne–” 

“So, I saw Vickie at Family Video and she –” 

“Babe,” Eddie interrupted, “Come on.” 

You poked your head out from behind the shower curtain, “Let me level with you, Munson. I’m going on record here to officially add gossiping in the bathroom with you as part of my explicit aftercare routine. Now you are literally obligated to talk shit about Vickie at Family Video with me.”

“I don’t think that, that’s really helpful or constructive after something like this. You need to heal–” 

“Talking shit about Vickie is incredibly healing for me,” you sassed, “I’m feeling more healed already.”

Eddie rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, “You’re so impossible.”

This was a few nights ago. 

By now you had healed up a bit, you could sit down semi comfortably on soft surfaces. The bruises on your face from where Steve grabbed you were fading. Eddie expertly tricked you into talking through your feelings over dinner last night, under the guise of asking for advice about a friend and his girl who were in a fight. 

All that was missing was Steve. He had stayed with his parents over the weekend, calling the morning after the incident to let Eddie know where he was. It was a long phone call that you only heard Eddie’s side of: a lot of shushing and cooing, a lot of firm words, a lot of ‘I know’s.  

“He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry,” Eddie said when he hung up, “He’s gonna say it in person, of course, but he wanted me to let you know that he knows what he did and he’s sorry.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you bitterly responded.  

Around mid-morning, you and Eddie were in the living room watching whatever trashy talk show was on TV. Both huddled up drinking coffee, his black, yours a dark caramel color with sugar. It had been a quiet, but blissful couple of days – Eddie making you meals, taking you out on dates, renting movies, stealing an orgasm or two out of you over the kitchen counter. 

You heard the car pull in and you tensed, hearing the car door open and shut – you could count the steps it took to get from the driveway to the front door, his keys jingling in time with his walk.  “It’s okay,” Eddie said, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, “You’re okay.” He got up and got to the door, opening it before Steven put his keys in. 

Eddie leaned on the doorframe, blocking your view of him, “Hey, Harrington.” 

“Can I see my girl?” Steve asked, stepping to the side of him to get through the door. Eddie side stepped to get in front of him. 

“Woah, woah, slow down there,” Eddie said, putting a hand on his chest to keep him in the door frame. You slinked over to the stair case, across from the door, going up a few steps so you could see Steve over Eddie’s head. You leaned your good hip on the bannister with your arms crossed. 

“It’s okay, Ed,” you said, emotionless. You stared down the slope of your nose at him, a pointed look you’d picked up from him over the years. 

Steve looked at you on the stairs, his face contorted with longing. He gave you a once over, seeing you in sweatpants and his old, battered, Hawkins Phys Ed t-shirt. Your little white socks covering your feet. 

“Hi,” he said weakly, stumbling into the house, “Hi, baby.” 

Eddie closed the door behind him, hawk-eyed at Steve while the boy slipped his shoes off and hung his coat on the coat rack. 

“Hi, Harrington,” you replied. 

“Can–can we talk?” he asked, standing at the base of the steps. 

“Hm,” you replied, keeping a steely gaze on him.  “Please?” he begged, “I wanted to–” 

“We can talk,” you interrupted. You nodded your head over to the living room at Eddie who took the hint. 

“You sure you want to be alone with him?” he asked. The question made Steve’s heart drop, his chest feeling tight at the idea that you might be scared of him.

“I’ll be fine,” you said, putting your eyes back on Steve, “Come on.” 

You stalk slowly up the stairs while he followed behind. You got in the bedroom and stood in the mirror, inspecting yourself while he entered, shutting the door behind him. He kept it unlocked. 

You looked over at him, his shoulders curved in, looking less confident than he had in months. 

“You wanna see what you did?” you asked, your voice covered in malice. 

He step closer to you with a hand outstretched to touch your waist. You flinched at his movement. 

“No baby, please,” a tear fell from his eye, “Please don’t be scared of me.” 

“How can I not be?” you asked, the hurt in your chest matching his. You delicately took down down your sweatpants and underwear, raising up the fabric of his t-shirt to your waist. You turned around. 

“Look at what you did to me, Steve.” 

Steve let out a small gasp while he looked the aftermath of his anger, getting on his knees to inspect it. Even a few days later, it looked just absolutely wretched. Where there wasn’t crudely wrapped gauze on your thighs (thanks, Eddie), there was dark purple and reddened bruising, raised welts, and clear imprints of the studs on Eddie’s belt still finding their way out of your skin. He put his hands on your hips, heart absolutely aching, more tears spilling out of him. He bit his lip to keep from crying harder, but it was hard. This wasn’t like him, he’d never hurt you like this, he never wanted to hurt you like this. 

“Oh, baby I…I’m so–” 

You turned around and looked down at him, tears falling from your eyes too, “The parts where you broke skin, Steve? They bled for two days. Two days.” 

“What happened?” you asked, desperate for answers. 

“I got st-stuck,” he said, still on his knees looking up at you. He rested his hands on the backs of your calves, “I just, I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t c-control it.”  “That’s your whole job, Steven!” you scolded, “It’s your job to stay in control.” 

“I know, I know,” he choked out, he wrapped his arms around the backs of your knees, his chest against the tops of your thighs, “I’m sorry, and I know that’s not enough but I need you to know how sorry I am.” 

“I h-had to stay at my folks cause I was – I didn’t think you wanted to see me,” he cried out, “I wouldn’t wanna see me either.” 

You ran a hand through his hair, his pretty brown eyes shining up at you. His lips were tinted red from all the emotion in his face. Your gaze narrowed again like it did on the stairs, “You did all that and just left. You left me there for Eddie to fix. You know he’s so gentle and he just doesn’t know h–,” you stumbled, your lip wobbling, breaking down, “You’re the only one who can make me feel better after you hurt me. I wanted you and you left me.” 

He took your hand from out of his hair and kissed the pads of your fingers, grabbing the smallest part of your waist, “Baby, I’ll never leave you again, I promise.” 

“I’ll never leave you again,” he repeated breathily, standing up and pulling you close to him. He put a hand to your cheek, his thumb sliding over a fading bruise from where he held you in place to tell Eddie who you belonged to. Steve’s heart sunk even lower, his eyes shutting tight, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“I never leave marks like that on you,” he said, his breaths shuddering with each rise of his chest, “I’m always so careful not t-not to be so rough.” 

“I love you so much, I never want you to think that I,” he gritted his teeth, trying to stop crying, “That I like hurting you. I don’t want you to think that this was what I wanted to do.” 

“I know it’s not,” you cried back, “But you did.” 

He kissed you, wet and apologetic, one hand on your cheek the other on the side of your neck. His tongue brushed against your mouth and you let him deepen the kiss, you hands glided through his hair and down to his shoulders, you clawed at him desperately. He lifted you at the waist, not breaking the kiss as he delicately laid you back on the mattress. Your pooled up pants on your feet slid off in the process. 

“Is this okay? Does this hurt?” he asked over you, your noses touching. Arousal revved in your belly. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said, kissing him back fervently. He was cautious crawling over you, his fingertips sliding from your neck, over your breast, and down your sternum before reaching under your thin t-shirt. You let out a soft, audible breath as his warm fingers played over your waist. 

“This is my favorite on you,” he smiled between kisses, “My little gym girl.” 

You pulled broke the kiss, blushing, “I kept wearing it in case–” 

You covered your face, “Ugh, it’s so lame.”  “No, no, tell me,” he smiled, “In case what?” 

Your hands left your face and cupped his, “I wanted to have it on when you came home, so I just kept wearing it. I made Eddie wash it like, every night.” You giggled at how ridiculous you sounded.

“Oh no,” Steve giggled with you, “He hates laundry.” 

“It’s just cause he’s bad at it,” you said, caressing him. 

“He’s awful at it,” Steve agreed, leaning in to kiss you again. He pushed your shirt up, his lips capturing yours one last time before leaving feathery kisses and licks on your neck. He kissed your collar bone, and further down, looking up at you after each one.  “I’m sorry,” he said, after leaving a wet kiss on the end of your ribcage. 

Further down, “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” at your hip, you gasped, your thighs squeezing.

“Please, let me make it up to you,” he said, kneeling again at the end of the bed, your legs bent over the edge. 

You sat up and rested back on your elbows, looking down at him with a wicked grin, “Do you deserve it?” 

“No, Miss,” he replied obediently, “But I’d love to make you feel better, if you’ll let me.” 

Lust poured down your chest, the way he spoke reminding you of a night last year where he let you be his domme. A night he goes back to often when he jacks off in the shower. 

Your legs parted a little and he helped you with the rest, letting his lips rest on a more healed looking bruise on the back of your thigh. His thumb ran up your closed lips, getting so slick that a soft suction-y pop sounded when he parted them with his fingertips. 

When Steve took his time, he was divine at eating pussy. You wouldn’t even want to lower it to eating pussy, he worshipped pussy. You looked down at him as his tongue slid over your hood, teasing before pulling the skin back to get to his prize. 

“O-ooh my God,” you moaned out, “Oh, that feels so good, baby.” 

Eddie liked to play with his food, where Steve was precise, sucking and licking where he knew you’d react the hardest next – like playing with that light up hand held Simon game, the next point of action glowing for him to follow suit. He moved his head with each dip and roll of his tongue, switching from looking up at you to looking where to go next. 

“Fuck, I love how you taste,” he muttered, “You taste so fuckin’ good.” 

The soft roughness in his voice when he got excited made you shiver, your thighs twitching. You felt him start to ease a finger into you. 

“Steve, no,” you whined. He stopped immediately, looking up at you with worried eyes. 

“Oh no, princess, did I hurt you?” he asked. 

“No, I just,” you blushed, “I want more than your fingers.” 

He let out a soft ‘huh,’ and smiled, his tongue running along the back of his teeth. He stood up, unfastening his belt, but then stopping to look at you. 

“Would you–” he hesitated, “Will you close your eyes for me, while I take all this off? I don’t want you to see me with a belt in my hands right now.” 

You nodded, your heart swelling at his consideration of your feelings. Not that it would have crossed your mind, but knowing he cared made you swoon. You opened your eyes again at the feeling of him crawling over you.  “Tell me you want this,” he said before leaning in to give you a slow, deep kiss. 

“I want this,” you said, “I want to do this with you.” 

He eased into you, slippery against your slickness, a complete change from the last time he was inside you.  “Fuck,” he whispered, his head dropping at the feeling of you around him. Your legs sprung up to give him more leverage into you, your relaxed muscles giving way to stretch your skin easily over your legs. Pleasure overrode your pain ten fold. Steve’s cock was made for you. 

He held himself up on one forearm, the other on your cheek, looking up to keep eye contact with you. His strokes were slow and deliberate, hitting your g-spot with ease each time. It felt sweet and salacious. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, “I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.” 

You smiled, kissing him, “No, you’re always callin’ me names.” 

“I’m not gonna call you names for a long time,” he said, “Not unless you ask.” 

Your head lolled back with a moan as his hips shifted, putting himself deeper inside you, “God, that’s good. Just like that.” 

He couldn’t help but smirk at hearing your moans, he quickened his paced just slightly, hearing the squelch of your soaked pussy accommodating his thrusts. 

“Jeeesus,” he grunted back, breaths getting ragged, “God, you’re so perfect.” 

He slowed for a moment, looking down at you, “Can we do it more like this?” 

You cocked your head, “Like what?” 

“Can it just be nice, can we do it like this more often?” 

“Oh baby, of course,” you replied, “Yeah, we can do it like this.” 

“Do you like it?” he asked, “Is it good for you? I want it to be good for you.” 

You slowly rolled your hips against him, “Your cock is always good for me.”  You flashed him that look that made him melt, mischievous but innocent. He could read you like a book, knowing what he could say next. 

“Ooh, did you miss your Daddy?” he asked, his pace quickening again. A symphony of breathy moans flew from your throat.

“Mmm,” you whined, “I missed you so much, Daddy.” 

“But,” you started, your voice back to normal, he slowed down again, “You have a long way to go, until everything’s okay.”  “I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, “I’ll do everything I can.” 

It definitely was a shorter romp than you were used to, but Steve hadn’t made love to you in a while. (At least that was his excuse: ‘It’s just different baby, there’s something about it. You know there’s fucking and then there’s making love and when I’m so in it – I – ugh – please tell me you finished. I’m so embarrassed.’) Of course you finished, you always did. 

After a few minutes of kissing and cuddling, and another long string of apologies from Steve, you both got dressed. You slipped out of the bedroom door together, pulled into another deep kiss at the stair landing. Eddie was at the bottom of the stairs, his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched over, a fake angry look on his face, “So you just fucked without me, huh?” 

You and Steve looked at each other and back at Eddie, “Uhh…I…ye…we uh..” 

Eddie straightened up and clasped his hands together, “You know, I do so much for this family,” his voice amping up the dramatics, “And I can’t even get like, an ‘Oh Eddie, come up here so I can give you a thank you blow job, you really earned it! It’s like I’m not even here!” 

“No, no, poor thing,” you cooed, hurrying down the stairs into his arms, “No, you definitely deserve a ‘thank you’ blow job!” 

“I didn’t mean from you,” he said, closing one arm around you, locking eyes with Steve, “You gave plenty of those while King Steve went to go find himself.” 

Steve smirked back at him while he sauntered down the stairs, quickly encircled by Eddie’s free arm. 

“We can have our play time later. It’ll be allll about Eddie,” Steve said to him, you heard them kiss above your head. 

“Oh yeah, so different from any other day,” your sarcasm was biting. Eddie let go and the three of you headed into the living room, the TV still on some trashy talk show. 

“So, Stevie,” Eddie started, “I saw Vickie at Family Video a couple days ago–”  Steve gasped, a shocked smile spreading across his open mouth, “You didn’t! Was Robin working? She didn’t even tell me about this.” 

“Are you joking?!” you interjected, “This is not his story! I saw Vickie at Family Video. C’mon Ed, my favorite part is his shocked reaction, you stole my thunder!” 

“You know I tell stories better, sweet thing,” he said with a shrug, falling back into the arm chair next to the couch, “It’s why I’m still a Dungeon Master after all these years.” 

“You’re still a Dungeon Master because you’re a nerd, give me a break,” you said, easing yourself on to the couch. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve said, standing in front of the TV, waving his hands at both of you, “Both of you shut up. Someone, please God, tell me about Vickie at Family Video.”

#steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #steve harrington fan fiction #steddie x you #steddie x reader smut #steddie x you smut #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #dom eddie munson #dom!steve harrington #dom!eddie munson #dom steve harrington #the steddieverse

[ryujnn]

► akuma. ﾟ｡ ⋆ only love can hurt like this. (01)

► chapter summary ﾟ｡ ⋆ 10 weeks of preparation until the big day follows 10 reasons why you’d rather die in battle than marry gojo satoru.

► chapter warnings ﾟ｡ ⋆ mentions of death. misogynistic themes. gojo and the reader despise one another. depressive themes.

tag list. visual + character board. prev. next.

When you were 8, you’d ask your mom all about love. What it was, what it felt like— the side effects. Your mother would always tell you the same thing…

“It’s like when you see those biiiig rollercoasters, you always wanna get on one, right? But it’s kind of scary because of the bad things that can happen, so now you have to decide… do you want to leave and regret not getting on the rollercoaster, or take the chances to either have the best ride of your life— or the worst one.”

Of course, you were only 8, so you took your moms speech literal. You wanted to get on a rollercoaster! You also wanted the love your father and mother had— or what they showed you. What they wanted you to see.

Though, when you started to grow up, you realized that you didn’t want the love that your parents had. You also began to realize that what she told you about love— wasn’t about taking the risk of falling in love with your father.

It was the risk of having and loving you.

WEEK 10 — “I TELL MYSELF YOU DON’T MEAN A THING,”

“Will Gojo be attending?” Asked your mother, resting her thin arms on the cool metal table. She loved the temperature, definitely helping with her constant body heat.

You shook your head, keeping your attention solely on the multiple cupcakes sitting in front of you. Despite being different flavors, the icing all looked the same.

Buttermilk, coconut, lemon. After a while, they started to taste the same. You hated sweets all-the-more; only indulging when you’re stress eating. Unfortunately, you weren’t stressed.

Making this entire experience even worse.

Your mother, on the other hand, was excited for the experience. Her only daughter, lucky for her to be alive— lucky to be alive herself, and she gets to see her get married.

“I do hope he’ll attend the dress fitting.”

Sighing, you pushed away the cupcake in front of you. “No need,” Resting both arms over your chest, “I’m just gonna find one my size. Doesn’t matter what it looks like.”

Your mother frowned. “It does matter how it’ll look, Y/N,” She scolds; almost in a motherly way. “It’s your big day.”

The urge to snap at your mother grew with each second. No, it wasn’t your big day. You didn’t want your first marriage to be with someone who had no absolute feelings for— you hated the fact you were even being forced to do this.

After a few moments of silence, your mother places her hands over one another, keeping them settled in her lap.

“You know, you’re so adamant on the fact you’ll fight soon. This’ll be your only normal experience before you’re back to training. Appreciate it. Take a break.”

WEEK 9 — “AND WHAT WE GOT, GOT NO HOLD ON ME,”

“One, two, three, spin!”

Just like the last six spins, Satoru wasn’t grasping onto the concept of keeping your hands locked when sending someone off for a turn.

Leaving you dizzy and stumbling to the floor— again.

A small scoff left your lips, pushing yourself off the ground with a huff. “Seriously, does having weird eyes also affect your hearing?” Asking with a tone, you returned to the position in front of him. “You’re not supposed to let go of me.”

Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re getting very worked up over a little spin.”

“Well my knees are sore because you can’t follow basic instructions,” Another roll to your eyes, a habit you’ve been picking up on (mostly around him). “I seem to forget that being the strongest doesn’t correlate with the smartest, huh?”

The instructor walked closer, clapping his hands together, hoping to ease the tension between the couple. “How about we try again? We can always switch it up a little if it helps.”

You sent the instructor a small smile, returning to Gojo with a neutral expression. “One, two, three—”

Satoru releases your hand, tugging the ringing phone out of his pocket. He quickly glances at the screen before shoving it back into its home, looking down at you on the ground, again.

“Gotta go.”

You pulled your eyebrows together, opening your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it by a second. He holds out a finger to you, faux smile on his face.

“Can’t make the dress rehearsal, either,” He shrugged his shoulders, turning for the door. As he’s taking long strides with his even longer legs, he waves at you from behind.

“Might wanna get off the floor! Never know what germs are lingering.”

You huff, keeping your seat on the floor. You simply hugged your legs to your chest, dropping your head between your knees.

WEEK 8 — “BUT WHEN YOU’RE NOT THERE, I JUST CRUMBLE.”

“After the marriage, she’ll stay at your estate— yet she’ll see our doctors. We’ll send them over every week, along with extra helpers and maids.” Sousuke had his feet propped up on the small stool in front of him, checking off from his list. “Gotta make the marriage look believable. I’m sure your our elders wouldn’t be happy with a fake marriage combining our clans.”

Gojo sits on the couch across from him, legs spread, hands folded together in the middle, just the slightest hunched forward. He raises his eyebrow. “What about trainers?”

Sousuke stops shaking his pen, raising his eyes to the man before him. “Huh?”

“You know, the people who’re supposed to help train your daughter for her big battle,” He pulls himself back, resting his spine on the couch. He intertwines his fingers and rests them on his lap. “I’m very excited to see her go against… who is it… her brother?”

Sousuke chuckled deeply, shaking his head to the man. “No trainers. She has yet to even prove herself… hasn’t even fought anyone, let alone killed someone at all.” He adverts his eyes back to the paper. “She’s not going against Ryou.”

“I think I remember her saying she’d fight him,” Satoru shrugs, pointing to one of his ears. “Think my eyes are affecting the ears.”

Tension grows between the two. Two clan heads, both stubborn and obstinate; what an absolutely horrible idea to possibly mix them. It’s like cross—breeding a cat and a dog. The power dynamic between the two almost suffocated everyone in that room.

Sousuke hums, slipping his pen into the top of his clipboard. He knows what his daughters wishes are— she’s even lucky to have them. It sort of ticks him off that she has so many requests, so much to say and a lot to argue about… when she could’ve been dead years ago.

One thing about Sousuke Shio? He loathed doing extra work.

Why put in so much effort and money into creating the generational battle when he already knows who’s gonna win? There’s no fun in that— and it’s a waste of his precious time. He could be using that time to breed— continuing the bloodline.

“How’s this sound?” He places the clipboard down, resting his hands at his lap. “You like to teach children how to use their energy, right? Teach that brat how to use hers. Then maybe she won’t die four seconds in. Make it worth our time, will ya’?”

Gojo smiles back, his blood boiling under his skin. Brat? Worth his time? This man had a large stick up his ass, and all Satoru wanted to do was rip it out and beat him with it.

Sousuke partially reminded Gojo of his elders— no companionship or care for anyone other then themselves. He hated them for that… all he’s wanted to do was change that. Never wanted to be anything like that, either.

Selfish bastards.

WEEK 7 — “I TELL MYSELF I DON’T CARE THAT MUCH,”

The curtains were pulled back, revealing you in a puffy, cream colored white dress. It was strapless, showing off your collarbones and shoulders. It had surprisingly fit better than you thought, but it didn’t scream to you.

Neither did the other four.

You looked at the mirror in front of you and immediately felt nauseous. You were supposed to be doing this for someone you loved, with family members watching and cheering you on. This moment is what some people apparently dream of, but it seemed nothing like the magazines you read.

Nothing like the movies you watched with your mother— or the stories about her own wedding.

Your mother clapped her hands together gently, sending you a golden smile. “That one is gorgeous,” She points at your chest, raising her eyebrows. “Little seductive, too. Perfect on you.”

Adverting your eyes from the mirror, over to your mother, you couldn’t ignore the fact that despite being severely malnourished and deprived— she’s got a smile on her face, pure happiness from watching her daughter prepare for her big day.

“This’ll be your only normal experience before you’re back to training.” Her words lingered. Maybe you should take this for advantage— you’ll be back to patching up cuts and bruises in a few weeks. What’s wrong with a few days off?

Importantly, your mother seemed to be enjoying this experience a lot more than you were. No matter how sick she felt, she followed you to every appointment, helped you with picking and choosing what will be served and what music should be played.

You couldn’t ruin it for her; especially since she didn’t have a proper one herself.

“You like it, mom?” You asked, walking out in another dress. You fisted the sides, attempting to spin around on your bare toes. “I think I’d like it more if the sleeves were lace.”

She laughs, “Sleeves with lace it is.”

WEEK 6 — “BUT I FEEL LIKE I DIE, ‘TILL I FEEL YOUR TOUCH.”

“This is his wife?”

A young girl, green hair tied up up into a ponytail, keeps her eyes on you. She’s scanning you up and down, mouth agape, as if she’s seen something she wanted— for a price she’s willing to pay.

You looked down at your outfit, a pair of very low waisted jeans and a white long sleeve that didn’t reach the waistband of your pants, leaving some skin to show. You shoved your hands into your pockets. “I… should I have worn a different shirt?”

She shook her head rapidly. “N-No! You look awesome!” She smiles. “I just mean… you’re so pretty. Especially in person. I totally thought Gojo-sensei was lying about getting married!”

“Salmon.” A boy with dirtier—white hair spoke under his collar.

Before you knew it, your cheeks were warm, followed by your ears burning. “Oh, um, thank you.” You spoke shyly, not one to really receive compliments— especially about your looks.

You’ve never had the chance, either. You were stuck in a community with just family until months ago… you barely even known compliments existed.

The large panda beside her took a step forward, placing a big hand on his friends shoulder. “Sorry about her,” He sends you a toothy smile. “She’s Maki. I’m Panda— and collar guy is Inumaki.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” You bowed slightly, “I’m—”

“We know who you are,” Maki cheeks begin burning visibly, probably more nervous than you were. “Shio Y/N from the Shio Clan. The bearer of five. You’re like, either a myth or a legend around here.”

“I wouldn’t say legend!” Gojo smiles, walking up the hill to see his fiancé and students all interacting with one another.

Once he’s made his way over to the conversation, he stands beside you, almost an entire foot taller than you. He simply looks over, peering down at you with an unreadable expression.

No matter how many times you look at him, with or without that dingy white blindfold wrapping around his eyes or his black glasses— you couldn’t read him. You couldn’t figure him out for the life of you.

His aura even read nothing.

“Yeah… I…” You look away from him, back to the students before you. “I’m just Y/N here, okay? I’m sure we can all learn something from one another.”

“Pollack roe.” Inumaki sends you a thumbs up.

WEEK 5 — “ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIS.”

“Talked to your father.” A voice echoed behind you, causing you to spin around on your heels.

You stumbled slightly, catching yourself on the counter beside you. Stupid fucking shoes— first time wearing a pair and you feel like your legs are absolutely jelly.

Nonetheless, you chuckle bitterly, hoping to lighten the mood and the obvious tension between you and your fiancé. “That couldn’t’ve been good,” Once his expression stayed the same, you look down at your feet. “What’d he say?”

“Jus’ told me about the doctor that’s supposed to visit every week.” He crosses his arms, watching you play with the material of your black dress.

“But I also wanted to tell you that I’ll be a gone for a bit after the wedding. Missions and all,” As expected. You weren’t even sure why he was telling you in the first place. “There’s some work being done. There’s a bedroom with the lake view for you— I’ll be on the other side.

That was a little weird. You could understand not wanting to sleep next to each other considering you didn’t know one another— but being on complete opposite sides of the house? That’s really awkward.

You shook your head, careful not to mess up the low bun neated in your hair. “You seriously don’t have to do all of that.”

“Don’t really have a choice.”

Gojo Satoru was a popular man. He’s had his fair share of woman problems— tasted every apple under the tree. He could’ve been with anyone else, been doing anything else— wherever else he wanted to be with whoever. He did have a choice.

It even makes you wonder— the million dollar question that has been on your mind for the past five weeks… Why did Gojo Satoru agree to marry you?

“You did have a choice,” Grabbing your clutch from the counter, you tugged the strap onto your shoulder. “You didn’t have to marry me, you made that decision on your own. Believe me, I don’t want anything to do with this just as much as you.”

As you attempted to walk past Gojo, he steps in front of you, halting you in your tracks. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to bump right into his chest— but you were met with nothing.

You opened your eyes, seeing how you were just seconds away from his body— yet met with nothing. The closer you had gotten, the slower your body seemed to move. You’ve heard about this before, this foreign technique that only six eye users can do. The infinity.

You took a step back, clearing your throat and dusting your dress from whatever you thought was on there. Focusing on that was a lot better than thinking about how there was absolutely no trust between you two, that even a barrier made up of matter was now involved.

As if you were just measly business partners.

“There’ll be guards, maids, helpers and chefs there. You should be all set after the ceremony,” He shoved his hands into his pocket, tilting his wrist to check the notification on his watch. “They all report back to me, so, don’t do anything you wouldn’t want tattled about, ‘kay?”

You scoffed. Were you about to leave from one hell to another? This man who knows absolutely squat about you, warning you about ethical behavior and integrity? Using his infinity around you like you were a threat? Staying on the other side of the house? What were you exactly signing your life away to??

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some random woman you’re marrying and forcing to sign a prenuptial agreement.” You took another step back, gripping onto your clutch’s material. “I don’t need chefs or maids. I’m not a housewife. I’ll barely be in your home if that makes you feel any better.”

Silence. Nothing but pure silence. You rolled your eyes, turning on your shoes once more to storm out of the house. Once the door slammed, the house shook slightly, yet Gojo stood there with his hands tucked into his pockets— emotionless.

“That’s too bad.”

WEEK 4 — “SAY I WOULDNT CARE IF YOU WALKED AWAY,”

“Nice to meet you too, Nanami.”

After shaking the man’s hand, you sat on the wheeling chair adjacent from him, crossing your legs over one another. Nanami mimicked your actions, sitting down as well.

He sets his weapon on the table beside you both. “So, have you thought about what technique you want to practice first?” Nanami folds his fingers and rests his hands on his lap. “Or which element you want to use the most?”

…No. That’s what you want to blurt out. You also want to add that you’ve been practically confined for the past twenty four years of your life. You’re not sure what techniques you’d be best for… not sure what elements you want to specialize in— two simple questions and you can’t even answer properly.

You peered down to your lap. “Uh, well I’m not the best with technique definitions, they— I…”

“That’s okay,” Nanami simply nods to you. You can tell he’s trying his best to make you comfortable— but you feel stupid. “Let’s start simple. The five elements you wield, it’s fire, water, air, earth and… void?”

“Space, actually. I know it seems like there’s not a difference, but there’s a barrier for how much we can actually do. Void is too powerful.”

The blonde hums, nodding as you spoke. He kept his eyes on you, in no way rushing you— or even judging you for not having any answers right away. He seemed calm… reserved. Something you weren’t used to.

“Out of all those, which element do you think you’d want to practice first?”

“Air.”

Nanami’s eyebrows raise, “That was quick,” He crosses his arms over one another, leaning back in his seat. “How come? What’s wrong the the others?”

“Well, fire is extremely dangerous. It can be very powerful, but we aren’t immune to it. Using it burns us after a while. Water is too technical, you can manipulate multiple things on accident, like salt, oil and even blood. Earth is limited, very good asset but not something that’ll keep you up the whole fight. Space is first best, but it’s also pretty hard to learn— let alone master, and messing up space techniques is very dangerous.”

You let out a sigh, finishing your ramble, looking away to the window. All up until you realized you were rambling. Your eyes went wide, hands covering you mouth with a low gasp.

“Ohmygod,Imsosorry,Ijustspokesomuch—”

Nanami laughs, shaking his head towards you. “Stop, stop, you’re alright,” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, ignoring the sweat from laughing. “It’s fascinating, don’t worry.”

For some reason, you become flustered. Not because of Nanami— no attraction in anyway, but the fact that you’ve had the chance to talk about your energy. The power you possess. How you felt about it. While at home, your parents wouldn’t ask much about it. You never had the opportunity to talk about the technical reasons, either.

Ryou always did.

You couldn’t help but smile, picking at your fingernails. “Thank you.”

He hums in return, standing up to grab his weapon. “Let’s start with learnable techniques. It’s weaker, but considering the amount of power you hold, you could deal great damage.” Nanami pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “How’s that sound?”

“Sounds great.”

WEEK 3 — “BUT EVERYTIME YOU’RE THERE, IM BEGGING YOU TO STAY.”

Drip after drip, the medicine dripping into your mother’s IV followed with the sound of the monitor beeping a rhythmic tune. You sighed, keeping her soft, frail hand in yours, rubbing your thumb along her skin.

Resting your head against her arm, you look over to the doctor in the corner, watching him send you gentle, sad smile.

“Is she gonna die soon?”

He clears his throat, questioning how he could deliver such an answer. No child wants to hear about their parents getting sick— let alone dying. He’s signed an oath to his patients, to worry about their well-being, but that comes with their children too.

The doctor walks closer to you, leaning on the wall nearest you. “We’ve sedated her, put her in a medically induced coma so that she could attend your wedding,” He pauses, releasing another breath. “After that, though, we believe that’s all the energy she’ll have left.”

You blink, not moving positions, nor crying or showing any emotion. You simply stared at the wall in front of you, keeping comfort with your mothers hand. Her warm hand, with her warm skin filled with moles, decorating her features.

“So after my wedding… she’ll die?”

The doctor nods. “I’m afraid so.”

WEEK 2 — “MUST’VE BEEN A DEADLY KISS,”

You set your katana down onto your bed, shrugging off your sports jacket and tossing it to the ground. Your body hurt. You knew training was going to be hard— considering you’ve never done it professionally— but god you were dragging your body everywhere now.

Training before your wedding wasn’t a good idea, obviously, but you’d rather get thrown into a gravel wall, slammed through the ground and sliced with your own weapon than to think about what your reality was. What it will be.

The relationship with your mother is special— it’s sacred. Your entire life, you felt left out and alone. Second choice. You were always second choice… but never with your mother. You weren’t a choice to her, not an option— you were a want. And soon, she’ll be gone.

Forever.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, standing in only undergarments, scratches and bruises littering your skin. Your fingers were quick at work, unbraiding the significantly long ponytail that rested on the side of your shoulder.

“Mommy, am I strong?”

“The strongest.”

With a slight frown, you brushed your hair out, watching it poof back up. Doing your hair was a hassle— you missed when your mother would do it. It was so long, so much to handle… but you wouldn’t dare cut it.

Your hair reached to the back of your knees. If there was anything you specialized in, even if it wasn’t fighting— it was your hair. You treat your hair like it’s a prized possession, cause that’s what it is. It’s yours. It’s the only thing you have that you can control. It came from you, you control the length and color.

It’s yours.

You dipped your foot into your bath water— nice and warm, just how you like it. After sinking into the water, you pulled your scraped knees to your chest. The water was clear— not a bubble in sight. The water felt… silent. That’s what you needed. Silence.

Your wet cheeks rested against your knees, staring off at the tile on the walls. You counted each of them, hoping to past time, to keep passing time. You wanted to hold the fast forward button on your life. Skip the part where you marry a man who dislikes you, your mother dying— the fight that can ultimately kill you.

Everyone dies, always. You’ll even be dead soon.

The pathetic option to get married and have kids— despite not knowing if your body can handle childbirth because of your power. Or, you could battle your brother… the brother who’s traveled and specializes in each element he practices. It’ll all be a joke. You’ll be dead anyway.

Those were your options.

You stared down at the clear water, not an emotion on your face. It’s all designed for you to die.

You couldn’t even tell if the droplet that splashed was access bath water or a tear.

Nor did you care.

WEEK 1 — “ONLY LOVE, ONLY LOVE.”

“Thank you guys for coming,” Now surrounded with family, everyone sat in their assigned seats— excited for the rehearsal to be over so that tomorrow… they could see you get married. The first big wedding this Clan has ever had. “Everything seemed to go fine, just a few things that need to be touched up. I’m very grateful you all took the time for today and tomorrow— it means a lot to my fiancé and I.”

Gojo stands next to you, adverting his eyes from the crowd, and back to you. Something’s definitely changed. You seemed more enthusiastic about the wedding— as if you turned on a light switch and all of a sudden… this wedding was the only thing you were looking forward to.

Nonetheless, he smiled over to your family. He bends down to reach the mic, his barrier blocking you both from touching. He looks at the crowd from his glasses. “Feel free to eat and chat. We’ve gotta get going soon, big day tomorrow.”

Your family members all smiled, standing from their seats to walk over to the food. The room filled with chatter once again, everyone taking their eyes off the lovely couple— and your facade dropped. The smile on your lips, bright eyes… it all went away within seconds.

Gojo noticed, and before he had the chance to speak, you were both met with your father walking up the steps, hands deep into his pockets. Despite knowing the news, he was still in a happy mood. Nothing saddens your father more than knowing he had a daughter, so it doesn’t surprise you.

He watches you both, noticing the seemingly awkward tension— but deciding against speaking on it. He turns to look at you, “I’ve been thinking about inviting Ryou. I’m sure he’d want to see his sister getting married.”

Of course he thought about inviting the man superior to you, to your own wedding! Nothing surprises you anymore. All you could do was shrug, sending him a tired smile. “Sure, father. I’m sure Mom would love to see him.” And with that, you walk past Sousuke, no energy to argue with him.

The whole situation confuses Gojo. What could’ve possibly shifted the dynamic between this family within just a few weeks? Is the fight happening sooner than later? Is there an agreement he wasn’t aware of? Is someone dying?

Is someone dying. Gojo huffs, finally catching onto the situation. He should’ve guessed it when Himari never showed up to the rehearsal tonight— plus, you were now finally on board with the wedding she was excited about.

Your mother was dying.

WEEK 0 — “ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIS.”

“Dammit, Himari,” Gojo sighs, standing at the end of the woman’s hospital bed. “You makin’ me do this sooner rather than later, huh?”

His eyes scan over the woman. He’s surprised she’s made it this far— extremely malnourished, pale, damn there skin and bones. He wasn’t sure if you were suffering more from seeing your mother dying, and knowing she’d die soon— rather than the death itself.

Gojo makes his way over to the side of her bed, sitting on the space beside her. The room was cold, it was blue— walking in here put him in some kind of depressive state and he wasn’t sure why. He’d only talk to the woman a few times, had a few moments with her, but he was still… sad.

“She’ll win.” He keeps his eyes on her closed ones, her eyelashes resting pretty on her cheeks. Even sickly, she was still a beautiful woman. He could see the similar features between Himari and her daughter.

“I give you my word.”

©️RYUJNN: 01/02/2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.. do not translate, plagiarize or remake any of my work! reposting my work is allowed — likes, reblogs & comments are appreciated.

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[kwanisms]

Under Your Skin 02 — s.changbin

taglist | playlist

summary: Everything seemed to fall into place for Y/N. She had a loving boyfriend, her dream job, and the bestest friend in the universe. She never thought her life was missing something until she was introduced to Changbin, the town's newest tattoo artist who happens to be harboring an unimaginable secret.

pairing: tattoo artist!Changbin × fem!Reader

genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn; “forbidden” love, strangers to lovers, supernatural themes; tattoo artist!au, werewolf!au; tattoo artist!Changbin, werewolf!Changbin, established boyfriend!Joshua

warnings: adult dialogue, tobacco use, female reader, mild religious themes as part of the story takes place in a church, sexual content (18+ mdni), smut warnings under the cut!

taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @x-woozi @candidupped @snow-pegasus @brownieracha @hobi-is-golden @avyskai @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @biribarabiribbaem @mchslut @spicxbnny @hgema @likeaboss-duh @oiminho @slut-for-dabi @ughyeka @honey-lemon-goose @skidsflowers @fixation-dump @meadowyin @sleeplessdawn @bristidutta @changbinnss @racha-enthusiast @phobia0922 @sanjoongie @chillllllli @nattisbored @kimseungminsprincess @chrollosforehead @typicalcuriosities @tai-loves-skz @labyrinthonmymind @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @mariesakamari @mamieishere @buttergumz @nxiim9 @emithecharmer @binnies-donuts @v3n0mszn @kazzilla @alexvessey @jihanlovic @thezombiepandaleague @moonl1ghtmuse @blue3ss5

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a/n: finally, here's part 2 of Under Your Skin! We are still going strong with the long chapters lol I know the pairing for this series overall is Changbin and he is end game I promise but Y/N is in a serious and committed relationship with Joshua so there will be some action there lol

A huge thank you to my wife, Sky ☁️, for this entire story idea. Without her late night thoughts, as well as her constant hype and support this series wouldn’t even exist.

Also a massive thank you to @icybluehosh for her professional input on all things tattoos. You are a saint, my love and I thank you so much!

To everyone else, thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and line breaks made by me. Content and support banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: dom!Joshua, brat!Reader, rough sex, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, and brat. Don’t question it. He calls her brat as a term of endearment when she’s being a brat), slight dirty talk, counter top sex , suggestive and implied sexual encounter in a church!!! and I think that's all. Of course, pls let me know if I missed anything!

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𝗰𝗵 𝟬𝟮 - 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗶

wc: 15k

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It had been a few days since the incident at the club and you hadn’t heard from Joshua since that night. He’d texted you once to make sure you had indeed made it home safely. After that it was radio silence.

You weren’t as upset about it as you thought you’d be. You chalked it up to needing some space from one another after that fight.

Instead, you focused your time on work.

A new shipment of antiques had been brought in from your boss’ most recent trip abroad to collect items to resell. The shop was your home away from home. You spent most of your time here as it was your job.

You remembered seeing the shop when you were younger and coming in with your mother. You spent the short time you were in the shop wandering the shelves and looking at all the neat tea sets and other antiques that had been cleaned and restored with care.

When you turned 19, you expressed a desire to work and your parents supported it, saying it would help build character. Your father offered to give you a secretarial position at his company but you had something else in mind.

Your parents were confused about your desire to work at Serizawa’s but when they visited the shop again on the day you went in to apply, they couldn’t imagine you working anywhere else.

Your boss, a man named Isei Serizawa, was a kind elderly man in his late 60’s. His wife, Shinju, was a small woman, also in her 60’s, and spent her life as a stay at home mom, taking care of their two children. 

The couple started the shop back when they first got married. 

Back then it was in a small storefront in Shingu, near Fukuoka, Japan. They spent their life running the shop and living in the small town near the ocean. They had two children who went off to become extremely successful in both Tokyo and Osaka. 

After their children started their own families, the couple moved to Korea and settled in Sejong, bringing their shop with them. 

When you first started working at the shop, you mainly worked setting up the items to be sold and sweeping, manning the front of the shop. Eventually, you started to learn about the work Shinju did and asked her to teach you.

She found it nice to have someone interested in her work, restoring old tea sets and mending broken ones. She taught you everything she knew and as her arthritis started to get worse, she left the restoration work to you.

Mr. Serizawa restored furniture and old electronics, leaving the ceramics to you now that Shinju stayed at home, keeping her arthritis at bay with cross stitch and knitting.

Some time after you started working at the shop, the Serizawas’ grandson, Daniel, came to live with them, moving into their spare bedroom. 

You didn’t know the particulars of why he left Tokyo but your boss did tell you he wasn’t doing well. He was acting out and mixed in with the wrong crowd. 

When you first met Daniel, he seemed troubled and at first he was cold and initially it seemed like he didn’t like you being at the shop or the way the Serizawas treated you like family. Eventually he warmed up to you and came to see you almost like an older cousin.

He also began opening up to you once he started working in the shop when he wasn’t in school.

His grades, which had apparently been dismal at his school in Tokyo, were thriving out here in Sejong. He loved the small town atmosphere and the feeling of community that came with it.

He started doing so well, in both school and his personal life that the Serizawas let him move into the apartment above the shop so long as he kept his grades up and stayed out of trouble.

Since it was summer time and he’d kept his promises to keep his grades up and stay out of trouble, the Serizawas let him go on a school summer trip to Busan to visit the ocean and the island of Jeju. Daniel kept his grandparents in the loop, sending them pictures and letters as well as postcards of his trip.

The Serizawas and even you were happy to see him thriving and having the time of his life with his friends and classmates. He was due to return soon as summer was ending and school would be starting back up.

The ring of the bell brought you out of your hyperfocus and you quickly set the cup you were holding down, wiping your hands on your apron as you called out. “Be right there!

“This is a lot of stuff,” Jeongguk murmured as he followed Changbin into the shop. 

They’d driven past what felt like a dozen furniture shops in town until Changbin mentioned seeing this place and Jeongguk begrudgingly drove along the main street until they found the correct side street.

The shop wasn’t huge nor was it loud or ostentatious. It was a small brick building, nestled between a café and an ice cream parlor with a small alleyway leading between the coffee shop and the antique shop.

The sign was made from black wood, coated in a lacquer that made it shine with gold lettering that read the name ‘Serizawa’s.’ The windows on the front of the shop were large and rectangular, stopping about waist level with a row of planters full of neatly trimmed hedges and pruned flowering bushes.

The front door was the same black lacquered wood with a golden knob. 

Inside the shop was what Changbin could only describe as organized chaos. 

Jeongguk was right, there were a lot of items but they were organized neatly. There were five shelving units, each labeled clearly with all manner of antique items ranging from old typewriters and phones to toys of all kinds.

A series of floating shelves near the door were loaded with various tea sets from different backgrounds and each with distinct patterns. 

Jeongguk was immediately drawn to the porcelain, inspecting them as Changbin looked further around. On the back wall were various pieces of furniture, some on special wall mounted hangers to allow more space to peruse the shop.

A small tile section of flooring was between the entry way and the shelves where some pieces of furniture were displayed, almost like one would stage in a home or apartment. 

Next to the door was a long counter, behind which had lots of small porcelain trinkets and other knick knacks.

Across from the main door was a doorway with a thick and no doubt heavy green curtain. 

Changbin heard a voice call out to them when they first entered and a moment later, footsteps started shuffling from behind the curtain before the material was pulled back and Changbin’s eyes widened as a woman stepped out.

He’d only managed to get a good look at her a few times the other night but he was certain it was indeed Lilah’s friend, the same he’d intervened for when her boyfriend tried to forcibly remove her from the club.

Changbin watched as she stepped forward and recognition passed over her, well your, face. 

“Hey,” you said with a smile as you walked forward to meet them. “Hey,” Changbin said with a small smile. He wasn’t sure if you’d remember him.

“Nice to see you again,” you added as Jeongguk returned to Changbin’s side. ‘Well, she definitely remembers,’ he thought, a little bemused. 

“Yeah, I had no idea you worked here,” Changbin added as Jeongguk looked between the two of you.

A silence fell over the three of you before you finally spoke. 

“So, how can I help you guys?” You asked, looking between them. Changbin was so focused on your face as you spoke that he’d completely missed your question.

Jeongguk discreetly elbowed him, making him sputter before answering.

“Oh, right. I’m, uh, actually looking for some furniture,” he said softly. Jeongguk rolled his eyes and turned away to inspect the shelves some more. ‘Him and those damn tea sets.’

“What kind of furniture?” You asked, tilting your head to the side, reminding Changbin of one of Jeongguk’s puppies. It was cute. You were cute. 'This is neither the time nor the place,' Changbin mentally scolded himself to stop letting his mind wander.

‘Focus, you idiot!’

“Oh, just some accent pieces. Something vintage. Preferably black or red,” he answered, trying to sound casual.

You nodded a couple times, taking in his words before turning to the rest of the shop. “Actually, I think I've got a few pieces like that,” you replied. 

“I could show you if you’d like?” 

Changbin nodded and you smiled, beckoning him to follow as you moved towards the back of the shop.

He followed while Jeongguk stayed behind to continue to look at the tea sets.

“How many pieces are you wanting?” You asked as you led him to the back wall. “Just a couple. Maybe three at most. I’m really trying to find some chairs for the lobby of my shop,” Changbin answered as you both walked towards the back.

“What kind of shop?” You asked, sounding interested. 

“It’s a tattoo shop,” Changbin answered, expecting you to lose interest immediately.

“Oh, the one that just popped up on Market Street?”

Changbin was taken aback that not only were you interested in the shop but that you knew where it even was. He nodded wordlessly, wondering what other kinds of surprises you had.

“Lilah has been talking nonstop about it ever since the last shop closed. I’d never been to that one,” you added as the two of you neared the back of the shop. “The last shop seemed to be a favorite among the locals, what was it called?”

Changbin watched as you stopped, amused as you wracked your brain.

“Ink Moon Studios!” You said suddenly, as if having an ‘aha’ moment. Changbin’s smile widened as you turned to him. “I really liked the name of that shop. What’s yours called? I didn’t see any signs when I last went by.”

Changbin suddenly felt very self conscious. “Uh, White Lotus Studio,” he answered softly. “I like that,” you said, smiling warmly. 

“Maybe I’ll have to come by with Lilah some time.”

Changbin bit back the urge to smile. If you wanted to come by his shop, he wasn’t going to complain. Not one bit.

“So,” you said, stopping to point out a couple different pieces. 

“We have these,” you continued, showing him a couple of red velvet chairs. The wood was a dark reddish brown. “But I also have these,” you added, pointing out a chair and ottoman set.

Both pieces were black upholstery with white painted wood. “This is probably a long shot,” Changbin started. “But do you have anything with black and gold?” 

A smile spread across your face and you waved at him to follow you, leading him back towards the front of the shop.

Back at the staged area, you showed him two of the chairs. 

They were high wingback arm chairs with black velvet upholstery and gold painted wood with carved details. They were exactly what he was looking for and he mentally kicked himself for not noticing them as soon as he came in.

You were excited, showing them off as you explained the work that went into restoring them. 

“My boss just finished these last week. I was really excited when he showed me his plans for them.”

You pointed out the wood trim. “These details are all hand carved. They’re Rococo inspired pieces but obviously they aren’t that old,” you explained. “The gold paint is coated in a layer of epoxy which gives it the shine. The epoxy won’t wear down so obviously the paint won’t chip. The velvet is real and will have to be cleaned by hand with some velvet cleaner and a microfiber cloth.”

Changbin nodded as you spoke, kneeling down to look at the pieces and looking over them, inspecting the wood and looking at the supports under the cushion. “No offense to your boss, but how often do customers complain or return items?”

You smiled warmly again. “No offense taken. I think the only time we’ve had something returned it was a mirror. The frame got damaged when they were carrying it out to their car and Mr. Serizawa offered to fix it right away,” you explained.

“He’s been doing this his entire life and for him, it’s not about the money. It’s about bringing new life into these old pieces and making sure people love them as much as he does.” 

Changbin glanced up at you from where he was kneeling in front of the chair. “Impressive customer service,” Changbin noted with a smile.

You smiled again. 

“My boss strips all pieces down to the base before reinforcing any cracks or weaknesses in wood. He uses high quality foam and upholstery when refurbishing each piece,” you added.

Changbin stood up and walked around one of the chairs, continuing to inspect it.

“And he does all of this in the shop?” Changbin asked as he stopped to look up at you. Nodding in response you continued to speak. “He has a workshop in the back where he does all his restoration work,” you answered. 

“Like I said, he’s been doing this his whole life. He’s had this shop in Sejong since I was a little girl. Before that he lived near Fukuoka and had a shop there.”

Changbin looked up at you again as you spoke. His eyes trailed over your face, taking in your features before looking back down at the chair. He didn’t want to get caught essentially checking you out, though he really wanted to.

He needed to be professional. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable in any way.

Changbin nodded a couple times before clicking his tongue and looking back up at you with a smirk.

“I’ll take them.”

Changbin was immediately entranced by the smile that spread across your face. It was different from the warm and polite smiles you’d given him before. This was a genuine smile. The first he’d seen from you since meeting you the other night.

He’d thought you were pretty before, seeing you at the club under all the neon lights and then again today in the natural lighting that filtered into the shop but the moment this smile graced your face, it nearly took his breath away.

He was convinced he’d never seen someone so stunning.

“Perfect, I’ll go grab the paperwork,” you replied, drawing him out of his thoughts before excusing yourself to disappear behind the curtain.

Changbin watched as you disappeared behind the green material before Jeongguk hissed at him from across the shop. He turned to look at his friend who had been looking at the tea sets the whole time.

“These are so fucking expensive,” he hissed. “Who the fuck would buy something so outrageously priced!?” Changbin’s smile fell and he glared at his friend from across the store. “Knock it off!” Changbin hissed.

Jeongguk looked back at the tea set. “Who would spend almost a million won on this?” Changbin sighed, glaring at his friend. “Stop it! She might hear you!”

Jeongguk shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not my fault they’re priced so high.”

Changbin was staring daggers at Jeongguk when the curtain opened and you returned, carrying some papers, a polite smile on your face. Changbin wondered if you’d heard them bickering. If you had, your face didn’t let it show.

“These are a formality,” you explained as you handed over the small stack of papers. “Basically just going over what was done to refurbish the items and how we recommend you take care of them.”

You smiled at him as Changbin flipped through the pages quickly. He glanced up as you were looking at the price tag of the chairs and writing on a small pad of paper, filling in the boxes and adding the sales tax.

You finished and gestured for Changbin to follow you to the counter near the door so you could properly ring him up.

Jeongguk was still looking at the tea sets as Changbin pulled out his wallet and waited for you to do your thing, tapping away at the register screen.

“Okay, the total comes to five-hundred and fifty thousand won,” you said with a smile. “How much?” Jeongguk asked, whipping his head around. “That’s for both chairs and I gave you a discount since you’re buying both of them,” you explained.

Ignoring Jeongguk’s glare, Changbin opened his wallet, pulled out his card and waited for you to input his total before turning the screen around for him to pay.

The transaction only took a few moments but it was long enough for Jeongguk to interrupt the silence, yet again.

“Can I ask you something?”

‘Oh god, here we go.’

You glanced up as Changbin signed his name. “Yes?”

Jeongguk gestured at the shelf. “How do you choose the prices for these things?”

Your cheeks burned at his inquiry and there was no doubt in Changbin’s mind that you had heard them bickering earlier. He desperately wanted to apologize for Jeongguk’s rudeness but was unable to do so as you started speaking.

“Well, it’s really hard to put an exact price on art,” you started as you printed Changbin’s receipt and stapled it to his paperwork. Changbin thanked you as you handed him his papers.

“Some of those sets are almost a hundred years old,” you continued, leaning on the counter as Changbin put his wallet away, both he and Jeongguk engrossed in your words. 

“That specific set, the one that’s almost a million won, is a rare bone China tea set from England and is about 150 years old.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened and he looked back at the set.

“The prices are determined by the age, condition, and rarity of each item. We also factor in how much work went into restoring each piece. That set came to us in multiple pieces.”

Jeongguk turned back to face you. “So it was restored in the store?”

You nodded as Changbin watched you. 

“Yes. Everything is restored and cleaned in the shop before we sell it.”

Jeongguk chuckled, looking back at the sets. “I'm picturing a cute little elderly lady in the back, cleaning the tea sets,” he murmured but loud enough for both you and Changbin to hear.

Changbin chuckled as well, shaking his head at the image Jeongguk put in his head. A small giggle came from you, causing both to look in your direction.

“Actually, there’s no little old lady,” you said, giggles subsiding.

“I do all the tea sets.”

Changbin’s eyes widened as did Jeongguk’s.

“Wait, you restore the tea sets?” Jeongguk asked. You nodded with a slight redness to your cheeks. “I do,” you answered.

“That’s so… impressive,” Changbin said, making you blush deeper. “What made you get into this line of work?” Jeongguk asked.

“Well, I spent a good portion of my youth and teens attending fancy parties and soirees and I’ve been to more tea parties than I care to count,” you explained as both men continued to listen.

“I’ve never really liked tea that much if I’m being honest, but I’ve always loved the sets.” A small smile spread across your face as you reminisced.

“And the sets were always so pretty. All the intricate patterns and details have this way of drawing you in.” You were so engrossed in your explanation you didn’t notice the way Changbin was looking at you.

“Both the art and even the soft clink of porcelain brings me a great sense of nostalgia,” you continued softly as both men watched you, especially Changbin, with a deep fascination.

"The Japanese have a word for it. Natsukashii."

Changbin had never heard someone speak so passionately about tea sets. Normally he wouldn’t be interested but the fact that you were in it for the art was something he appreciated greatly.

“I’m sorry,” you said suddenly, waving your hand. “I went off on a tangent there.”

You cleared your throat and turned to look at Changbin. 

“We’ll be open until 8 today, so you’re welcome to swing by any time to pick up your chairs. I’ll go ahead and put the sold signs and grab the plastic from the back to wrap them up.”

Changbin smiled and nodded. “I’ll be back before then with a truck,” he replied, standing up straight before tapping the counter softly with his knuckles. “See you then,” you replied with a warm smile.

Jeongguk finally turned away from the tea sets but not before looking at the set below the one he’d called out for being expensive. “What about this one?”

Changbin could have strangled his friend. 

He knew you were probably up to your elbows in work and he really didn’t want to keep you any longer than was necessary.

You must have been some sort of saint, smiling kindly and moving around the counter to get a better look at the set Jeongguk was pointing at.

Changbin allowed himself to look at it and understood why Jeongguk was so intrigued.

It was a black traditional tea set. The black was broken up but lines of gold. It was extremely striking. The inside of the cups was white with speckled blue.

“That’s a traditional Japanese tea set,” you answered. “It’s about fifty years old. It’s made from ceramic as most Japanese sets are,” you answered. “It’s from Kyoto and comes from a very popular geisha house. The story is that it fell while being transported and it cracked, several of the chawan broke into multiple pieces.”

Changbin glanced back at the set. “What’s the gold?” He asked suddenly.

“It’s powdered gold,” you replied, looking at him, meeting his gaze when he turned to look at you. “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?”

Both Changbin and Jeongguk shook their heads. “It’s something I learned from my boss’ wife. She used to restore tea sets before her arthritis set in,” you explained, squeezing between the two to grab the tea pot.

You turned it and showed them the various lines of gold. “This teapot was originally broken into 6 separate pieces when it came to the store. Using resin and gold powder I attached the pieces together. This is called hibi which means crack,” you said as you set the teapot back on the shelf.

“There are other methods but usually I only do this one,” you continued.

“If a piece is missing, sometimes we’ll substitute with a piece from another set but I have yet to have to do that.”

“So why the gold?” Jeongguk asked, asking the question on the tip of Changbin’s tongue.

“Kintsugi is about displaying the imperfections rather than covering them up. It’s the belief that the imperfections are what make it beautiful. As a philosophy, kintsugi treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object. The imperfections become part of the item,” you explained.

Changbin glanced up at his friend who was deep in thought as he looked at the black and gold set. Before Jeongguk could ask anymore questions, Changbin grabbed his friend by the elbow. “I think we’ve taken up enough of Y/N’s time,” he said gently tugging his friend towards the door.

Changbin turned to you as he guided Jeongguk out the door. “Thank you so much,” he said, smiling at you. You returned the gesture, giving him a small bow. “Thank you for coming in,” you replied, giving him a small wave as he exited.

Once the door shut behind them Changbin rounded on Jeongguk. “First you insult the items and then you won’t shut up and stop asking questions?” He asked as they walked down the sidewalk where Jeongguk’s car was parked.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, lowering his mask. “Okay, I admit, the whole price thing, that was out of line. But I was genuinely curious about the sets! It was actually kind of fascinating. I’ve never seen or heard someone talk about tea sets like that,” he replied as he unlocked the car.

Both men opened their doors and slid into their seats. “She’s passionate about it,” Jeongguk continued as he buckled his seatbelt and started the car, the engine roaring to life. “She’s in it for the art,” Changbin added. 

“I think that's something we both can appreciate.”

You watched as Changbin and Jeongguk walked down the sidewalk and out of sight. Once they’d disappeared beyond your scope of vision, you turned and headed back into the backroom to file the store’s copy of the paperwork away and return to your workspace.

The backroom was where you spent a good majority of your time, taking Shinju’s old station. It was a sturdy desk made of white oak wood in the shape of an L. One of the sides was pushed up against the back wall of the workshop and had an attached cabinet.

Inside the cabinet were various tools you used to restore sets including a vast array of paints and paintbrushes. Not only did you clean and seal cracks in the ceramics but you also touched up any painting that needed it.

It was a lot of fine details and tended to be very tedious but you’d always had a particularly steady hand and a deep love for art to begin with. Normally you painted on canvas in your youth. Now the ceramic was your canvas.

You took a seat on your cushioned chair, grabbing the heavy knitted blanket Shinju had gifted you last year to keep your legs warm. For some reason, the back of the shop always got extremely cold, even in the heat of the summer.

Picking up the cup you were currently working on, you started back up, dipping your brush into the small mug of water before dipping it into the gold paint.

The swirls came naturally as the brush tip glided across the ceramic. It was easy work and it took up a decent amount of time. You listened to the music over the shop speakers, simple classical tunes that were pleasant to the ear.

As you continued painting along the rim of the cup, time ticked by on the clock to your right. You hardly paid the face any attention as you worked. Only glancing at it when you felt necessary to gauge how much time before you needed to start cleaning up.

What felt like only minutes but was probably closer to an hour went by before the familiar tinkling of the bell caught your attention. You set the cup down on the cloth that stretched over the workspace before cleaning the brush and quickly patting it dry.

“Hello?” A familiar voice called from the showroom.

You got up, brushing off your apron before heading to the curtain only for it to be pulled back and the face of your boyfriend appeared.

Upon seeing you, Joshua gave you a smile, one you almost returned before remembering that he hadn’t spoken to you since the night at the club.

Joshua noticed the change in your demeanor, the chill in your stare.

“I come with a peace offering,” he said, holding up a brown paper sack without a logo. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously before beckoning him to join you in the back room. 

Once he’d passed the doorway, you moved out to the showroom, crossed to the door and turned the lock before flipping the small sign that read ‘be back soon.’

You returned to the backroom, letting the curtain fall behind you before crossing your arms over your chest and fixing your boyfriend with a blank expression. You were waiting for an apology.

Joshua understood your body language immediately and set the bag on the small table just inside the back room where you usually sat to eat lunch. “I know,” you heard him say softly.

“I messed up,” he continued, moving to place his hands gently on your shoulders.

“I messed up big time and I am so sorry for the way I acted at the club the other night.” 

Looking into his face, you could see the sincerity etched upon his features. He really did mean it. But you weren’t satisfied. That wasn’t all he had to answer for in your opinion.

“And?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And I'm sorry for not talking to you since that night,” Joshua added immediately.

You pursed your lips. "And?"

Joshua gave you a confused look until you sighed and shrugged off your cardigan, showing him the now bruised spot on your arm. The same spot he'd grabbed roughly the night at the club.

His eyes fell on the mark and the confusion melted away as he immediately took your arm gently. "Oh my god, baby," he murmured as he inspected the bruise. "I'm so sorry."

"You're lucky Lilah hasn't seen this. Or my parents," you replied pulling your cardigan back on, fixing Joshua with a blank stare. He immediately reached up, cupping your cheek. "I am so, so sorry, Y/N. I really did not mean to grab you like that."

You nodded wordlessly. "I know," you replied. "But it doesn't change the fact that you did. You need to be more mindful of your actions, Joshua." He nodded in agreement. 

"Of course," he answered. "Hold me accountable. What I did was wrong and inexcusable." He took your hands in his, looking into your eyes. "I promise I'll be more mindful and to pay more attention." He gave your hands a gentle squeeze.

Once you nodded, showing that you both understood and forgave him, Joshua pulled you into a hug, swaying you both lightly until you broke the silence. "So, what's in the bag?"

Joshua had stopped by one of your favorite delis, getting you a lunch special with a sandwich and a cup of soup. The two of you sat at the small break table, eating lunch and chatting.

Joshua explained what he had been up to the last few days and answered your questions about work while you finished your food.

He had just finished explaining something one of the project leads had done when the shrill ringing of the phone cut him off. "Oh shoot," you murmured, getting up and crossing the backroom to answer the landline at Mr. Serizawa's work desk.

"Serizawa’s, this is Y/N speaking," you answered politely.

"Hello, Y/N. It's Isei," a voice on the other side said.

"Oh, hello Mr. Serizawa!"

Joshua had gotten up from the table and crossed the room as you listened to your boss speak. You felt Joshua's presence looming behind you and just as suddenly, you could feel his hands on your hips as he reached you.

"I'm not going to be able to come in later to close the shop," Mr. Serizawa started. "Shinju isn't feeling too great so I'm going to have to take her to the clinic." You furrowed your brow.

"Is she going to be okay?" you asked quickly, ignoring Joshua whispering the word "what" into your ear.

"I'm not sure. Hopefully it's nothing too serious but I'd like you to close up early. And please take the deposit to the bank for me. I don't think I'll be able to get it done by noon tomorrow."

You nodded even though he couldn't see you.

"Of course, Mr. Serizawa. I made a sale today so I'll call them and let them know to come sooner to pick up their items," you replied. "I hope Mrs. Serizawa is okay and tell her I'm thinking of her."

"Thank you Y/N. I will keep you updated. Goodbye"

The line clicked, indicating he had hung up.

You immediately set the phone back down.

"Everything okay?" Joshua asked as you sighed, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Shinju isn't feeling great so Mr. Serizawa is going to take her to the clinic," you said as you turned in his arms.

"He wants me to close the shop early," you added. "Which reminds me." You gently pushed Joshua back and moved over to the filing cabinet to pull out the file with Changbin's receipt.

"I need to call him back so he can come get his items," you murmured as you moved back to the work desk and picked up the phone. Joshua leaned against the counter top, watching you dial the number on the receipt.

The line rang a couple times before it picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi, may I speak with Changbin?"

"Speaking, who is this?"

"It's Y/N. I just got a call from the owner and he's asked me to close the shop early. If you want to still pick up your chairs today, you might want to head over here as soon as possible. I'll be closing the shop within the hour," you explained, playfully swatting Joshua's hand as it started to wander.

"Oh, hang on a sec," Changbin said before speaking indistinctly to someone else. You waited a couple moments before he returned. "I'll be by in ten minutes. Twenty at most," Changbin finally said.

You smiled in relief. "Okay, I'll see you soon," you replied. "Bye bye." You hung up and turned to Joshua who grabbed your waist and pulled you toward him. "Who was that?"

"Just a customer. He came in earlier to buy some chairs," you answered, looking at Joshua. "How long did he say he'd be?" Your boyfriend gave you a mischievous grin. You shook your head.

"He'll be here soon," you answered, trying to pull away but Joshua held you firmly in place. "So like twenty minutes?" he asked with a smirk, leaning in to kiss you. You pulled back much too quickly for his liking. "My lunch break is almost over, Mr. Hong," you said sternly. Joshua snorted but leaned in for another kiss.

His lips parted yours, tongue slipping past and just as quickly, he turned both of you, pressing against you and pinning you against the work desk. "Joshua," you warned as his lips started to wander, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

"Come on," he murmured. "There's a lot I can do in twenty minutes," he continued, one hand sliding down your hip to the hem of your dress. Why you chose to wear such a short one today, you'd never understand.

Your hand quickly grabbed his wrist as his hand dipped between your thighs. "Joshua Hong!" you chastised, eyes widening at the devilish smirk on his face. "Come on, baby," he urged. "I promise I'll be quick." You shook your head, pulling his hand away.

"No way, mister," you answered. "I'd like to keep my job."

Joshua sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. "You're no fun," he grumbled. You smiled cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the lips before moving to clean up the break table and wash your hands. 

Joshua sulked, watching you clean up and start putting away your painting supplies before setting the tea set you were working on in one of the empty cabinets and shutting the door.

Just as you were finishing up, there was a knock at the front door. You wiped your hands on your apron and ignored your boyfriend's pout to go answer the door.

Once past the curtain, you saw Changbin with Chris standing at the door, chatting amongst themselves. You approached the door, unlocked it and opened it to greet them.

"Hey," you said cheerfully as you let them into the shop as Joshua appeared from behind the curtain. You caught a glimpse of his expression and you could tell he was now upset.

You narrowed your eyes, silently telling him to knock it off.

"They shouldn't be too heavy, Changbin noted as he and Chris moved over to the two chairs. You waited by the door for them to pick up the chairs which they each did with relative ease.

Holding the door open, you let them pass by you as they carried the chairs out to the waiting truck. Chris set the chair he carried down before opening the tailgate of his truck. Each one of them carefully loaded the covered chairs into the bed.

You watched as Chris climbed in, starting to carefully secure the chairs with rope. Once tied down, Chris hopped down while Changbin walked over to where you stood on the stoop.

"Thanks again for giving me the heads up," he said with a smile, one you returned. "Of course," you answered. "I don't know when your shop is opening and I'm sure you'd want to have these chairs now rather than later." Changbin nodded before glancing past you into the shop where Joshua stood, arms crossed and looking unimpressed. Changbin quickly looked back at you.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly. Your heart pounded in your chest at his soft expression. He barely knew you and yet here he was, being so sweet and making sure you were okay. You nodded.

"Yeah. We're fine," you answered. Changbin nodded and turned to look back at Chris. "All set?" he asked. The other man nodded, giving him double thumbs up. "All set!"

Changbin turned back to face you. "Thank you again," he said with that same soft smile. "I'll see you around, Y/N!"

With a wave, he jogged around to the passenger side of the truck as Chris got into the driver's seat. Once they were settled, Chris started the truck which roared to life, and the two took off, pulling out carefully onto the main street and heading out of view.

You stepped back into the shop, letting the door shut before you turned the lock and turned, just now remembering Joshua was in the shop, arms still crossed, and an unmistakable scowl on his face.

"What was that?" he demanded as you walked towards him. " What was what?" you asked as you reached the curtain and pushed it aside, letting it catch in the curtain hook. Joshua followed you into the backroom as you moved towards the supply closet for the broom and dustpan. "You know what," he argued.

"He was a customer, Joshua," you said, no longer amused by his behavior. "All the smiles and waves? What the hell was that?" he asked again as you grabbed the broom and started sweeping.

"He was a customer," you reiterated. "I'm nice to all my customers," you continued as you swept the backroom. It took less than five minutes to sweep as it wasn't a busy day and Mr. Serizawa hadn't been in the shop to work on furniture. You dumped the dustbin and moved to the front of the store, Joshua hot on your heels. "I don't like him," he said as he watched you.

"You don't even know him," you retorted.

"Neither do you."

"Chris does."

"You don't know Chris so you couldn't possibly trust his judgment."

"Lilah knows them."

You savored your victory when Joshua fell silent. He couldn't argue with that. "In any case, I think you should stay away from him," Joshua finally said. You paused your sweeping to turn and look at him. "Are we really having the whole control conversation again?"

Confusion was replaced by realization as Joshua's posture relaxed. "I'm only thinking about your safety," he answered. You sighed, turning away and rolling your eyes. "I'll be just fine," you replied.

Joshua said nothing, instead checked his watch and huffed.

"I'd better get back to the office," he announced, disappearing into the backroom to grab his jacket before returning. "Are you going to be okay walking home by yourself?" he asked. You nodded as he approached, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"Text me when you get home," he added before heading to the door and unlocking it. "And lock this door as soon as I leave," he added with a faux stern expression. You rolled your eyes playfully and walked over as he exited, closing the door behind him and waited for you to turn the deadbolt.

After checking the door, he waved and headed to his waiting car. You watched as he got in and drove off before flipping the closed sign and pulling the shade on the door window down.

You resumed sweeping until you were certain every nook and cranny was swept. Returning the broom and dustpan to the supply closet, you bagged up all trash and took the bag out to the dumpster in the alley behind the shop.

Once back inside, you locked the backdoor and headed up front to pull the shades down on all the windows and then went behind the counter to count the register for all the cash transactions.

After counting and adding it to the ledger, you headed into Mr. Serizawa's office to access the safe and collect the deposit for the bank. Putting the money in the locking cash bag, you put the bag inside your purse and tripled checked all doors were locked.

You grabbed your jacket, purse, and keys and headed out the door, making sure to lock both locks before heading down the sidewalk towards the bank. This wasn't the first time you'd deposited money for Mr. Serizawa and you were glad he trusted you with such a task.

The walk to the bank took only about ten minutes and once you deposited the money and got the receipt, you were about half way to your apartment when you realized you forgot your phone and your apartment key.

Cursing yourself, you begrudgingly turned back and headed to the shop. It added an additional 20 minutes but soon you had your phone and house key in hand and you were back outside the shop, locking the knob and deadbolt.

You were fiddling with the deadbolt when you heard someone call your name.

Looking over your shoulder, you were met by the smiling face of--

"Jeonghan!" you said as you finally got the deadbolt to slide into place and turned to properly greet the man. He gave you a warm smile. “How have you been?” He asked as you returned the shop keys to your purse.

“I’ve been good!” 

An awkward silence filled the air before Jeonghan spoke.

“You closing up the shop?”

You shook your head before nodding. “Well, sort of,” you answered. 

“I closed earlier but forgot my phone and house keys like an idiot.”

Jeonghan’s expression shifted from warm to confused. “You aren’t an idiot,” he replied. “We all forget things from time to time.” You nodded wordlessly.

“Well, I’d better get home.”

“Would you mind if I walked you home?”

You both stared at one another before laughing. “Go ahead,” Jeonghan continued. “What were you going to say?”

“Just that I should probably head home,” you replied. Jeonghan nodded. “I was going to offer to walk you, but I’m sure you’ll manage on your own,” he stated.

“Yes,” you answered. “But thank you anyway.”

The two of you parted ways after an awkward goodbye and you made the short walk back to your apartment, stopping just inside the door to grab your mail and head up to your floor. 

As you reached the top of the stairs, the front door of the apartment next door opened, your neighbor poking his head out.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, catching your attention. You looked over to see his normally tidy black hair was tousled, glasses slightly askew. “Are you okay?” You asked, mildly concerned. “You don’t look so good, Wonwoo.”

Your neighbor shook his head. “I’m alright. I just realized, halfway into my shower, that I don’t have any body wash. Could I borrow some? I’ve got a date tonight and you’d really be doing me a favor.”

You tried to hold back your laughter. “I would except I think my body wash might not go over too well with your date. She might think you have a girlfriend,” you answered. Wonwoo stared blankly at you until your words sank in.

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he finally said, eyes widening. “What do I do?”

You finally let out a laugh before shrugging. “If you’re really in a pinch, dish soap would probably work,” you answered. Wonwoo’s face lit up. “Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that?” You shook your head. “No idea.”

“Thanks Y/N,” Wonwoo said before disappearing into his apartment and shutting the door, leaving you to unlock your own door and enter your apartment, letting the door shut behind you before locking it and looking over your mail as you entered your apartment.

After sorting your mail and going through the important papers, you started your usual nighttime ritual of dinner, a movie, and your evening bedtime routine. Once in bed, you made sure your phone was plugged in and your alarm was set for the next morning.

The next morning was Sunday which meant it was time for church. It wasn’t your favorite activity but you didn’t have much of a choice when it came to attendance. Your mother and father always made you attend in your youth and while you didn’t necessarily believe, your attendance was expected.

The vibration of your phone caught your attention as you sat at your vanity having just finished your makeup.

You sighed, turning to grab your phone as you checked the screen. It was your mother. You swiped the screen, bringing the device up to your ear as you looked over your outfit choices. “Hello?”

Your mother’s dulcet voice greeted you.

“Good morning, dear,” she said soothingly. “Did I wake you?”

You rolled your eyes. “No mother,” you answered as you picked up a hanger, inspecting the outfit. It was a white tweed jacket and skirt set with a gold pattern and a short sleeve white turtleneck.

“I’ve been up for about an hour now.”

“Are you getting ready?” You nodded, resisting the urge to sigh annoyed at her tone. “I am,” you answered. “Picking out an outfit now.”

“I’m sure you’ll select something appropriate,” your mother responded. “Mhm,” you replied, not really paying attention to what she was saying. “How are you planning to get to the church?” Your mother suddenly asked.

You hesitated. “Uh… I had planned to walk,” you answered. You heard your mother tut. “We’ll just send a car to come get you.” You sighed heavily. 

Your parents lived in a gated community on the west side of Sejong, a much nicer area of the city, though most of the city was nice. Your family came from money, as did most of your friends. Your friend group attended the best private schools in Sejong, continuing onto university and never having to worry about how to pay for tuition or books. You knew how fortunate you were and how privileged your upbringing was. 

“I’m perfectly fine walking,” you retorted as you set the suit down and picked up another outfit, a short sleeve ribbed white turtleneck with a black skirt and a split cropped short sleeve blazer. One side was entirely black while the other side and the collar was a black with white plaid pattern.

“Don’t be silly, dear. It would take such a long time for you to walk there. Our driver will come get you. We’ll send Martin.” You knew there was no point in arguing and relented. “Fine,” you answered. “I’ll see you at the church, mother.”

Before she had the opportunity to redirect the conversation, you said goodbye and hung up. “This one,” you said, turning to your closet and grabbing a belt and a pair of shoes to match.

Once dressed and looking up to your own standards of “church ready” you grabbed a small clutch purse and put a few items inside; lip gloss, phone, compact, and wallet. You weren’t sure if you were going to go out to eat after services or if you were going to come straight home but you wanted to be prepared either way.

As you headed out of your apartment, your phone vibrated in your purse. Locking your door before you forgot, you puled the device from your bag and checked the notifications. A slew of texts from Lilah filled the screen.

Lilah🌕: are you going today? Lilah🌕: i don’t know why you pretend to believe Lilah🌕: we could be doing more productive things Rolling your eyes with a slight smirk, you typed a response. You: you know how my parents would freak if I stopped coming You: besides, it’s not that bad

Lilah’s response was instantaneous and you pictured here lounging on her bed, waiting for you to text her back.

Lilah🌕: speak for yourself. You don’t get weird stares when you’re just sitting there existing. All those people follow teaching that tell them not to judge yet that’s all those hypocrites do Lilah🌕: skip services and come see me instead Lilah🌕: I miss you ):

You sighed as you took a break from her messages to head down the stairs. After the last time you tried to text while traversing the stairs ended up with a trip to the hospital and a twisted ankle followed by bed rest and a bulky brace, you learned your lesson.

Once you were on flat ground again, you stopped by your building’s front door and peered out the glass, looking for the car your mother insisted on sending. You saw nothing and instead went back to your messages.

Lilah🌕: where you go? ):< You: i was walking down the stairs lol calm down Lilah🌕: oh yeah. We don’t want a repeat of last time You: i remember thanks lol anyway i can’t skip You: my mother is sending a car to pick me up Lilah🌕: BOOOO. BOO KAREN You: my mother’s name isn’t Karen Lilah🌕: no but your mother IS a Karen You: 🧍🏻‍♀️  Lilah🌕: just tell Jeeves that you don’t feel well and come see me instead :> Lilah🌕: we can order pizza and watch Gilmore Girls! You: ugh i wish but i can’t back out now Lilah🌕: why not? ):< You: because the car just got here

You sighed and locked your screen as a familiar silver car pulled up.

It was definitely one of your father’s, a silver Lexus. Your father loved his Lexuses.

The driver’s door opened and a tall man, who you presumed to be Martin, in a black suit with black sunglasses stepped out, moving to open the back passenger door like some sort of secret service. 

Holding in a chuckle, you descended the steps, smiling as he greeted you with a formal “morning miss.” You thanked him as you climbed into the back, settling in the seat as Martin shut the door and walked back to the driver’s side.

The interior was an off-white leather and rather spacious. Leave it to your parents to send such a nice car to pick you up for church.

Once Martin put the car in gear and pulled onto the street, you returned to your texts with your best friend.

Lilah🌕: boo. Throw up on him You: lilah! 💀 Lilah🌕: what?? He’ll leave you there to go home and change and then tell Karen that he refuses to pick you up ever again. It’s a win-win! You: absolutely not lol Lilah🌕: sometimes you’re no fun Lilah🌕: you already on your way there? You: yeah. It’s so quiet in the car. No music, no conversation, nothing Lilah🌕: not even Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2? Lilah🌕: what has happened to society? How could they not play Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2 You: oh stop it lol 😂 You: i just meant it’s really awkward right now.

The car jostled as it hit a small bump and Martin apologized quietly, glancing at you in the rearview. “It’s not a problem, Martin,” you replied kindly. “Just another sign that Sejong needs to focus on repairing some of these roads instead of the other ventures they seem to be spend on,” you added as you looked back down.

Lilah🌕: you mean Jeeves isn’t the most fabulous conversationalist you’ve ever met? Lilah🌕: absolutely unacceptable. How did he even land that job? You: your sarcasm is leaking through my screen, Li Lilah🌕: good 🥰 Lilah🌕: i’m gonna watch a movie. Text me when the cult meeting is over You: Lilah! Lilah🌕: love you!! ❤️😘

You chuckled as you put your phone away, looking up as Martin pulled up outside the cathedral. You took a deep breath as Martin got out to open the door and you stepped out as members of the congregation started filing into the open doors, some stopping to greet others.

You thanked Martin as you brushed your skirt and looked back up. You didn’t see your parents anywhere outside and figured they must be inside already. Taking another deep breath, you followed the throngs of people entering the building and climbed the stone steps up to the doors.

Inside the foyer were small crowds of people, all speaking to one another. The doors that led into the main room were still closed as no doubt the staff were preparing for the services. You finally caught sight of your parents who were standing off to one side talking with Joshua’s parents, your boyfriend standing nearby and looking like he was part of the conversation.

You squeezed through the crowded foyer, saying excuse me until you reached them. Joshua was the first to spot you as you approached. He greeted you with a smile, breaking from the group to pull you into a light hug, pressing a kiss to your temple before your parents and his noticed your presence.

“Oh good,” you heard your mother say as Joshua guided you over to both sets of parents. You noticed another couple of your parents’ friends were standing in the circle and you could feel their eyes scrutinizing not only you but Joshua as well.

You saw the way the woman, whose name you forgot, looked over you, scanning your outfit and how you had presented yourself. It made you feel like a child all over again and you were showing your parent what you had picked to wear on the first day of school.

“You’ve made it,” your mother said, drawing your attention from the woman silently judging your choice of attire. You weren’t sure why she was judging you so hard, especially when she was wearing what you assumed was a dress. It looked like something she’d probably been wearing since the 1980’s and probably should have stayed there.

“What are you wearing?” Your mother asked softly, eyes looking at your jacket.

You glanced down and then back up. “What?” You asked. “What’s wrong with it?”

You saw the way your mother glanced to the side, probably to see if anyone was looking at you. Glancing back, you saw that no one was. “It just doesn’t seem appropriate for church,” your mother responded before turning as her name was called and she greeted another member of the congregation with your father in tow. You tried not to let her words get to you.

After all, you were used to this. You’d expected the scrutiny but for some reason, it still hurt. You were an adult now and she still treated you like a child.

You felt an arm around your shoulders before Joshua whispered in your ear. “You look nice,” he said softly. The sour feeling that had started to prickle at the back of your throat started to subside, as did the heat of embarrassment.

He always managed to calm you down when it came to your mother.

“Thanks,” you replied just as softly. “I think you look amazing in everything you wear,” Joshua added, kissing your cheek. Your cheeks burned and you mumbled at him to stop though that was the last thing you wanted.

You giggled as Joshua nuzzled your cheek until you heard his mother’s sharp voice calling his name. Joshua looked over his shoulder at her. “We are in public,” she said sternly, fixing you with a steely glare. Like it was your fault for Joshua’s behavior. “You’re right,” Joshua said turning back to look at you, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head to place a kiss on your lips right as the doors opened.

“Joshua!” You heard his mother hiss. Joshua rolled his eyes with a smile on his lips. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured, giving you one last peck before you were dragged away by your mother who reprimanded you for public displays of affection as she led you and your stoic father to a row of benches about half way into the room. 

You were thankful to be sitting at the furthest end of the row closest to the outside wall as more people filed into the church, filling the rows. Your mother was sat on the other side of your father who merely checked his watch before looking around the room, almost as if he was bored and you were left wondering if he even wanted to be here.

As the rows behind and in front of you filled up, your parents greeted the other members of the congregation, speaking about everything ranging from business to their plans for the week. Your mother talked about upcoming charity events and soirees while your father spoke strictly business and golf.

You checked your phone quickly, seeing Lilah had sent you a couple texts about the movie she was watching and reminding you to text her when you got out of church. You were about to put your phone away when you got another text. One from your boyfriend.

Joshy: put your phone away ma’am

A smile spread across your face as you typed a response.

You: you first Joshy: i can see you 👁  You: well, it’s not like i’m trying to hide from you Joshy: turn around

You looked behind you and saw him a couple rows behind with his parents, staring directly at you with a smirk.

You turned back to look at your phone.

Joshy: hi You: you’re such a dork Joshy: you still love me You: do i? 🤔  Joshy: i’m wounded ): 💔 You: poor baby Joshy: hey. I’m not a baby 😠 You: awww is the widdle baby mad? Joshy: i’m NOT a baby Joshy: you’re the baby Joshy: you’re my baby You: i know 😌🥰 You: okay princess 🙄 Joshy: you really should put your phone away though You: i’m a rebel  Joshy: is that so? You: yes 😈 Joshy: I'm not sure you should be using that emoji in a house of worship 🤨 You: just goes to show I'm a rebel 😎💅🏻 Joshy: okay Rebel Girl, meet me in the basement ten minutes after the services start You: we can’t leave! 😶 Joshy: i thought you were a rebel 🤨 You: i am ):< Joshy: prove it to me You: i dont know Josh… Joshy: either you’re your parents’ good girl or your mine Joshy: you decide You: but Josh ): Joshy: ten minutes. I’ll see you downstairs ♥️

You glanced up as the sermon started, slipping your phone into your purse and placing your hands over it. The pastor’s words seemed to just go into one ear and out the other as you tried to think of a way to sneak away.

Checking your watch you saw you only had a couple minutes left. ‘How the hell am I going to get away?’ You glanced around, eyes scanning the congregation. Most eyes were on the pastor as he spoke, his droning voice no doubt boring into their brains much like it did to yours.

You noticed several kids were either dozing off, playing on their phones, or just flat out asleep. Even some adults were dozing off. You heard whispered voices behind you and glanced back in time to see Joshua whispering to his mother and getting up.

Turning back forward, you stared at the back of the bench before you, wracking your brain until Lilah’s words to you earlier hit you.

‘Throw up on him.’

‘That’s it!’ You leaned forward slightly, dropping your head. Your father merely glanced at you but your mother leaned across him to ask you what the matter was. You lifted your head briefly. “I think I’m going to be sick,” you whispered. Your mother studied your body and so you threw in a fake retch for good measure.

“Go to the bathroom. Do not throw up here.”

You nodded and got up slowly, making sure to move as quickly as possible but not too quickly. Once you were out in the foyer, you turned to the right and headed for the steps that lead into the basement of the church where a few rooms for classes and a secondary set of bathrooms were.

You walked down the hallway, keeping your head on a swivel to keep an eye out for not only your boyfriend but staff as well. You were passing an empty room when you felt a hand grab your arm and tug you into the room, another hand clamping over your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

Your heart hammered as Joshua pushed you against a wall, shutting the door behind him.

You let out a deep exhale as he removed his hand. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t want you to scream.” You hit him lightly with your purse. “You scared the crap out of me!” You hissed as he cackled softly. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said as he leaned in, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Let me make it up to you?”

You felt one of his hands slid up between your legs. “We are in a church,” you hissed as his hand continued under your skirt. “That hasn’t stopped us before,” he murmured, lips ghosting over yours. “I thought we agreed to never talk about that again,” you whispered as his lips moved to your neck, leaving light, feathery kisses that verged on tickling.

“I guess I forgot that memo.”

You rolled your eyes, let out a soft gasp as his fingers made contact with your cloth covered sex. “Joshua!” You warned, though it couldn’t have been much of a warning when your voice was so shaky. Joshua clearly heard the tremble in your voice.

“You sure you want me to stop?” He asked, his hand stopping. You shook your head quickly. “No,” you gasped. Joshua smiled against your skin. “Good girl.”

"Have you seen my charger?"

Changbin glanced up, making eye contact with Minho who was peering into the room, holding up his wall plug but the cord was missing. Changbin shook his head and returned to his tablet.

Minho narrowed his eyes as his boss. "Did you take it?" he asked the younger man. Changbin glanced back up before fishing his phone out of his pocket and holding it up for Minho to see.

"Why would I take an Apple charger for an Apple device when I use exclusively Samsung products?" he asked, lips threatening to twitch into a smirk as he returned the same scrutinizing stare.

Minho only held his gaze for a few moments more before conceding. "What about Jeongguk?" he asked as Changbin pocket his phone and went back to ordering supplies on his tablet.

"Also Samsung," a voice said, causing Minho to turn and look up at the man in question as Jeongguk held up his phone. "Ask your roommate," Jeongguk added as he returned his phone to his pocket. Minho glared in the direction of Chris' station before slinking out of the room like a cat.

Jeongguk snorted as Minho could be heard in the background.

"Give me back my charger you thieving, two-faced Australian bitch!"

Changbin shook his head, holding in his laughter as he finished adding items to his cart. He glanced up as Jeongguk sat on the custom red bench Changbin specially ordered for his last shop.

"Do you need any new needles or bands?" Changbin asked, not looking up as he continued to tap away on his tablet. Jeongguk shook his head. I still have bands from that last order," he admitted and my station is overstocked on needles."

Changbin nodded silently as he proceeded to check out.

Minho and Chris could be heard bickering in the background as Changbin finished filling out the forms and placed his order, saving his confirmation number before setting the tablet on the desk behind him. He turned back to face his friend.

"Did you need something?" Changbin asked, just now noticing Jeongguk held a stack of colored papers in his hands. Jeongguk nodded at the stack, tilting it to show Changbin the front.

"They flyers came in," he answered. Four colors like you ordered," he added. Changbin crossed the distance and held out his hand to take the stack and look over the paper.

It was exactly as he ordered. "Perfect," he murmured. "You still wanna post them around town?" Jeongguk asked as Changbin flipped to the other colored pages. He nodded. "Yeah, where are the other two?" he asked, absent-mindedly scanning the paper.

Jeongguk leaned back and whistled, drawing the attention of the two bickering in the other room. Moments later, Chris and Minho appeared at the doorway, looking equal parts shocked and curious. "You got plans tonight?" Jeongguk asked, glancing over his shoulder at them.

"I was going to see Ari," Minho admitted while Chris shook his head. "We just got the flyers in," Changbin said, holding up the stack to show them. "We wanted to put them up around town," Jeongguk added. "You guys in?"

"Or you gonna make us do all the work?" Changbin asked teasingly. Chris smiled widely. "I'm in," he replied cheerfully before turning to look at Minho who rolled his eyes before a smirk formed on his face. "I guess I can see Ari afterwards," he said, pulling his phone out to no doubt shoot her a text.

"Great," Changbin said, splitting up the flyers and handing one color to each person. "Well split into pairs. Minho and Jeongguk, you take east of main, Chris and I will cover the west side. Check in with the small shops. Ask if they have a business bulletin board. If they refuse, just move on," Changbin explained. "I don't wanna make enemies or cause a scene."

Minho, Chris and Jeongguk nodded. "Wait, how are we attaching these?" Minho asked as Jeongguk glanced at Changbin. "Oh, right," the eldest said as he got up, handing his stack of papers to Changbin and sauntered out of the room.

He returned a couple moments later with a plain white paperboard box and opened the lid, setting it on the bench. He pulled out four staple guns, handing one to each guy before passing out smaller little boxes of staples. "My brother sent these with the flyers," he explained as he opened his own staple gun and loaded the staples into it. 

"Your brother?" Chris asked, tilting his head curiously. Jeongguk nodded as he pulled the trigger, making sure his staple gun was loaded properly. "Yeah, he made the flyers." Minho glanced down at the papers. "He's a talented artist," he noted.

"He's a comic book artist," Jeongguk explained. "So we commissioned him to design the flyers and then print them for us," Changbin continued. "Come on," he added. "The sun's going down and I'd like to get this up with the light."

The four headed out of the shop, Changbin locking up after Minho finally exited. "If you run out of flyers, awesome," Changbin said looking at Jeongguk. "If not, no big deal. Just go around until the sun sets." 

The brunet nodded and motioned for Minho to follow him. Changbin and Chris turned and headed in the opposite direction. It was a mundane and repetitive task, stapling the flyers on the wooden telephone poles, stopping by small businesses and asking them to display the flyers on any bulletin boards they might have.

A few businesses turned them away, albeit very rudely upon hearing the word tattoo. Some business owners were only too happy to help support other local businesses.

Half their stacks were gone as they continued down one of the many side streets off main street, stapling sheets as they went.

While taking a short break, Changbin noticed Chris smiling at his phone as he typed away. Changbin didn't want to pry but he wanted to make an effort to get to know his employees as he would most likely end up being close friends with these guys.

"Lilah?" Changbin asked, drawing Chris' attention. The older man smiled as he locked his screen. "Yeah," he answered. "She's really funny," he added. Changbin nodded. "She's pretty tol," he added, causing Chris to smile wider.

A comfortable silence fell over them before Chris spoke up.

"Her friend, Y/N, is really pretty, too."

Changbin’s heart thumped in his chest at the mention of Y/N's name. He nodded silently. "Yeah," he answered nonchalantly. "She has a boyfriend though, right?" Changbin added, looking at Chris who nodded. "Yeah," he said, sounding slightly bitter.

"Joshua Hong."

Changbin’s mind wandered back to that night at the club. The night he met you and was willing to put himself between you and your boyfriend. It was clear to him then that Joshua wasn't the nicest guy and he got that same impression again when he went to pick up his furniture from Serizawa's antique store.

"You don't like him?" Changbin asked, watching Chris as he contemplated telling him something. Whatever it was Chris was keeping from him, Changbin could tell he was hiding something bigger and he would be lying if he said his curiosity wasn't piqued.

"No," Chris answered, voice devoid of emotion. "From what Lilah tells me, Y/N could do so much better than Joshua," he continued. "Chris stopped in his tracks before turning to look at Changbin who had also stopped. "Why are you so interested all of a sudden?"

Changbin tried to play it off by shrugging. I met her through you and Lilah, she works at that furniture and antique shop. I keep running into her and I've been wondering if she's always so nice."

Chris nodded with a smile. "She's always been such a sweetheart. Ever since I first met her hardly anything gets her down." Changbin and Chris started walking again. 

"You seem to know her pretty well," Changbin noted, to which Chris snorted. "I know what Lilah tells me," he corrected. He turned to fox Changbin with a curious look. "You seem awfully interested in a girl who has a boyfriend," he said, watching as Changbin shook his head once more. "Nah," Changbin answered.

"Just curious as to what her story is. That's all."

Across town, Minho and Jeongguk were just as busy stapling posters to every wooden post they came across.

"Ah my arms are so tired!" Minho whined, shaking his arm. Jeongguk snorted at him. "Are you always this whiny?" Jeongguk asked as he checked his phone. Minho gave him a cheeky smile. "No," he answered. "It's just for you."

Jeongguk playfully swiped at the younger man who dodged him easily. "Just hang up your damn flyers," Jeongguk said as he slipped his phone into his pocket again. "Stop bothering me."

Minho rolled his eyes as he moved to staple another flier to the phone pole. "Yes, dear."

It was Jeongguk's turn to roll his eyes as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Minho turned and shot a staple at him. Jeongguk glanced at the tiny metal projectile hanging onto his sweatshirt and looked up at Minho. "Aren't you supposed to be quitting?" Minho asked, narrowing his eyes as Jeongguk pulled out his lighter.

"'Supposed to' being the operative word," Jeongguk answered as he lit the end of the cigarette, taking a deep inhale. "To my credit," he continued as he put the pack and his lighter away. "I haven't bought any more. This is my last pack."

Minho rolled his eyes and continued down the street, stapling another flier to a wooden board covering a vacant building window.

"If you were a good friend, you'd help me finish the pack," Jeongguk jokingly accused as he took another drag. Minho laughed and turned to look at Jeongguk. "I'm not your friend," he retorted. "You're my employer," he added.

Jeongguk chuckled. "Seriously, do you want one?"

Minho shook his head. "I quit," he replied. "I noticed it only made me more anxious instead of taking the edge off."

Jeongguk shrugged his shoulders and took another puff. "Suit yourself."

The two of them continued down the street as the sun started to set behind the hills and trees that surrounded the town.

"Can I ask you something?" Minho asked suddenly. Jeongguk took another drag of his cigarette before exhaling. "Sure," he answered, looking at the younger man as they stopped on the sidewalk.

"How did you and Changbin meet? How do you know each other?"

Jeongguk hesitated, reaching up to scratch his head. "The long story is complicated but the short version is we met at a tattoo convention when Changbin was first looking to open his own shop. I was working a booth as a traveling artist, renting spaces at shops all over. I guess I was trying to find something more stable, " he explained before taking another long inhale of smoke.

"Changbin stopped by my booth and was impressed with my work and we started talking and when he asked which shop I worked at, I told him the truth," Jeongguk explained while Minho listened.

"He told me he was about to open his own shop and asked if I would come work at his place. Initially, I said no but the more I thought about it, I decided to give it a try," he continued.

Minho nodded, watching Jeongguk take another drag. "And that's it?" He asked. Jeongguk studied him for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, pretty much. Four years later, and we're business partners," Jeongguk concluded. "He's my best friend," he added.

"As cheesy as it sounds, I couldn't imagine where I'd be in life without him," Jeongguk said as he took one last draw from his cigarette before putting it out. Minho nodded in understanding.

"I get it," he replied. "It's kind of like that for me with Chris." Jeongguk nodded in return before glancing up at the darkening sky. "Come on," he said suddenly. "We should head back, put more of these up on the way," he added, waving the lighter stack of flyers in his hand before leading the way down the sidewalk, Minho in tow.

Back at the shop, Changbin was scrolling on his phone while Chris played a music game when the door opened, the bell ringing and drawing their attention. Minho and Jeongguk entered with smug smiles on their faces. Minho held up his staple gun and aimed at Chris before launching a single tiny projectile at his friend.

"We put up all our flyers," Jeongguk said as Chris and Minho got into a staple war. Changbin looked impressed as Jeongguk strolled over and set his staple gun on the reception counter. "You smell like smoke," Changbin accused. Jeongguk shrugged his shoulders.

"My last pack is almost empty," he answered. "Then I'm done."

Changbin narrowed his eyes. "You better be," he said, playfully shoving his friend as Chris put Minho in a headlock which he quickly tapped out of.

Chris laughed loudly before looking over at Changbin and Jeongguk.

"Hey, we're gonna order some pizza and play video games tonight," he announced, drawing the attention of both men. "Maybe watch a movie. You guys wanna come?" Chris looked hopeful as Minho glanced to Jeongguk and Changbin who exchanged looks.

"Sure," Jeongguk answered, turning to look back at the two men.

Minho and Chris' eyes shifted to Changbin who glanced at Jeongguk before answering.

"Yeah, count me in.

You joined the crowd as the congregation exited the church, easily finding your mother and father as Joshua snuck off to find his parents. The sky had started to darken, gray clouds looming overhead.

Your mother turned to look at you and upon seeing you, she looked exasperated.

“You missed the whole service!” She reprimanded. You grimaced at her. “Sorry,” you replied. “I think I emptied the entire contents of my stomach in the bathroom.”

Your mother looked you over. “I was going to see if you wanted to join us for lunch with the Hong’s but perhaps you should go home,” she said as Joshua and his parents joined your little group. “I think we should postpone the lunch,” your mother said, sounding apologetic. “Y/N isn’t feeling well.

“Is that so?” Joshua’s mother asked, eyeing you suspiciously. You nodded silently as your mother felt your forehead. “Yes, she’s sweating and warm. She mentioned getting sick in the bathroom. I think we should wait until she feels better.”

Joshua’s mother nodded, lips pursed as she continued to look at you with that same scrutinizing stare. “Will you call Martin, dear,” your mother asked your father who reluctantly reached into his pocket for his phone.

Joshua interjected. “Y/N’s place is on the way to my apartment. I could drop her off,” he offered. “Maybe make her some soup and make sure she feels better before I head home?” The contrasting looks your mother and his gave you could have been comical.

Your mother was looking at your boyfriend like he was a saint, an angel even, to suggest doing something so sweet. The perfect boyfriend who would one day make the perfect husband. ‘In sickness and in health.’

His mother on the other hand was looking at you as if you were some harlot, trying to entice her son to sin. Like you would lead him directly into the gates of hell or something. She never did like you for some reason.

“If she’s sick, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said softly. You didn’t miss the intonation in her voice as she said the word sick. It held an underlying layer of contempt she held for you. Joshua waved her concern off. “I’m sure it’s fine, mother. Y/N probably ate something that didn’t agree with her,” he said.

“She’s always had issues with her stomach. I’m sure you remember that.”

Joshua’s mother pursed her lips again, glaring at you from behind her son.

“Thank you so much, Joshua,” your mother said sweetly as your boyfriend moved to wrap an arm securely around your shoulders. “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Y/L/N. After all, Y/N is my girlfriend and I would be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t take care of her.” You could have sworn you saw your mother swoon as Joshua said goodbye to both sets of parents and gently steered you towards the door.

“You really don’t have to drive me home,” you said as you descended the steps outside and followed the sidewalk towards the parking lot. Joshua chuckled as he led the way. “Actually, I do now,” he answered. “If either of our parents saw you walking home, they would ask a lot more questions than they are now.”

You cursed mentally, knowing he was right.

“I guess you’ve got a point,” you said with a shrug. Joshua tsked and rolled his eyes. “Just can’t admit it when I’m right, can you?” You shook your head with a wide grin. “Never.”

Joshua scoffed as he led you to the passenger side of his car. “Brat,” he murmured as he unlocked and opened your door for you. “Thank you,” you said, laying heavy on the word so he wouldn’t know what you were thanking him for.

The ride back to your place took a shorter amount of time than the ride to the church. Joshua parked on the street, as he usually did. He had every intention of coming inside to “take care of you” as he put it. As soon as the apartment door shut, he was on you in seconds, one hand on your cheek and the other on the small of your back as he carefully backed you against your kitchen counter.

“Up,” he simply said, moving both hands to your thighs to help you up onto the counter before his lips were back on yours. “I need to go to the store,” you interrupted, pulling away but he shook his head. “I’ll order you groceries,” he answered, lips moving down your neck and stopping to remove your blazer and untuck your shirt.

“Joshua!” You whined as he pulled your top off over your head and threw it aside. “Keep saying my name like that,” he said breathlessly. Your head tilted to the side as his lips continued to kiss down your neck. “Seeing you come undone earlier really drove me crazy,” he groaned, fingers digging into the skin of your exposed thighs.

Before you had a chance to reply, he pulled you down from the counter, turning you to face away before he pressed against you, grinding into your ass. “I had to deal with this the whole ride over here,” he growled. You pushed back against him.

“Must have been so hard for you,” you said, enjoying the way he grew more and more frustrated. “If you don’t stop it, I’ll take you right here.” You hummed in response. “Oh, i’m so scared,” you replied, pushing against him again, letting out a moan at the feeling of his erection grinding against you.

“Fine,” Joshua said, one hand moving to the back of your neck. “Have it your way, brat.” Without another word, he pushed your chest down against the counter, keeping you pinned while the other hand reached to undo his belt and pants.

“You gonna keep me waiting?” You asked teasingly as Joshua pushed his pants and boxers down enough to pull his cock free. “What have I told you about that attitude, sweetheart?” He asked as his hand pushed your skirt up, grabbing the back of your panties and roughly pulling them down your thighs.

“That you’ll fuck it out of me?” You asked coyly.

Joshua wasted no time, ramming his cock into your pussy, making you cry out. He quickly placed his hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. “Precisely,” he answered before his hips started to thrust sharply, hitting your ass with each movement.

Each thrust had you practically screaming into his hand, your own hands trying to find something to grab onto to ground yourself from the force of your boyfriend’s hips. Another loud scream, muffled by his hand, escaped your lips.

“You alright, baby?” You heard him in your ear, his hips slowing to shallow thrusts. You nodded, breathing heavily against his hand. "Good," he replied, resuming the same merciless pace as before, pounding into you from behind, hand still muffling your cries as he took his pent up sexual tension on your body.

It never failed to astonish you just how rough Joshua got in bed. Of course, he wasn't like that the first couple times. It wasn't until you asked him to go a little harder that it came out. When you were both frustrated and needed release, he usually bent you over the closest surface and fucked you so hard you couldn't walk.

That wasn't to say he was always rough with you. For every rough session, he made up for the abuse to your core by showering you in affection. For every scream he'd pulled from you, there were twice as many whispered I love you's as he reverently made love to you.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last," you heard him grunt in your shoulder. "I'm gonna cum." You whimpered against his hand as he chased his high, taking you over the edge with him as you both came together, you with a squeal as he thrust deeply into your abused hole, spilling his seed inside you, coating your walls.

With one final thrust, Joshua’s grip on you loosened and he had to brace himself against the counter to keep from collapsing on top of you. You panted heavily, cheek pressed against the cool granite of your kitchen counter. You felt his fingers comb through your hair, brushing some of the strands away from your face.

"You okay, baby?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded slowly and wordlessly as you tried to catch your own breath. Joshua leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, lips brushing against your cheek.

You shook your head, exhaling against the granite. "No," you finally whispered. "Do you want me to help you up?"

Joshua always made sure to ask if you wanted or needed assistance and you appreciated that about him. You nodded and whined as he pulled back, his cock slipping from your pussy.

He quickly redressed himself and then carefully helped you stand before guiding you to your bathroom. He helped you sit on the toilet before moving to start the shower. "I could stay and join you," he offered as he tested the temperature of the water.

You smiled and shook your head. "I'll be okay, Joshua," you answered. He closed the curtain and turned to cross the short distance between you, kneeling down and taking your chin gently in his hand. "You sure you don't want me to stay, angel?" he asked, eyes meeting yours in a loving gaze.

You nodded in response. "Yeah," you said with a sigh. "I'll be okay."

Joshua stood up, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Okay, sweetheart," he replied softly. "I'll check on you later."

You thanked him as he stood upright, looking up at him from your seated position. His hand moved to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your skin tenderly. "I love you, Y/N," he said as you reached up to place your hand over his and leaned into his touch.

"I love you too, Joshua."

After stealing a few more kisses, Joshua finally left your apartment and allowed you to undress and step into the scalding shower stream. You sighed loudly as the steaming hot water hit your skin. It helped to work out your sore muscles from being bent over the kitchen counter for a while.

After cleaning yourself off, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself and headed into your kitchen, grabbing your purse and sifting through it until you found your phone. Turning the device on, you saw you had a couple missed texts from Lilah and Joshua.

You answered both before heading into your bedroom area to get changed into some clean clothes. Once dressed you headed back into the living room, about to sit down when there was a knock at your door. You sighed heavily and walked over to check the peephole.

Your neighbor stood on the other side.

You unlocked and opened the door, smirking up at Wonwoo. "Yes, neighbor?" you asked. Wonwoo peered past you into your apartment before looking back at you nervously.

"You alright?" he asked sheepishly. You stared at him blankly, blinking a few times. "Uh, yeah?" you answered. Wonwoo nodded slowly. "I heard you scream earlier and wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied.

Your cheeks burned. "Oh, um," you answered. "Joshua was here earlier," you added softly. Wonwoo's eyes widened and his cheeks turned pink as he realized what he'd overheard.

"Understandable. Okay. Have a good day," he sputtered. "Glad you're okay."

He quickly shuffled back to his apartment, clearly just as embarrassed as you as he shut his door, leaving you to shut your own door and retreat back into your apartment, completely mortified that your neighbor and friend had overheard you and Joshua.

You grabbed your phone and shot a quick text, informing your boyfriend that he wasn't allowed to make you scream at your place anymore. Joshua's reply came minutes later, finding it highly amusing.

Joshy: guess next time I won't cover your mouth 😌 You: 🥲 I'm glad you find this amusing Joshy: I'm just teasing you baby Joshy: but you're feeling okay? You: yes. I'm making some ramen now You: gonna watch a movie Joshy: do you still want me to send you some groceries? You: it's okay. I'll order them later 🥰 thank you though Joshy: of course. Anything for you, my love 💕 You: 💕🥰

You set your phone aside to focus on making your food before settling down on your couch and starting the movie Lilah had recommended to you last week.

It was a decent movie, not the best, but you could see the appeal as you finished your noodles and started working on making a grocery list. You were scribbling a few items down when your phone started buzzing on the coffee table.

You reached forward and grabbed it, recognizing your boss' number and answered it immediately.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Y/N?" Mr. Serizawa's voice came over the speaker. "This is Isei." You sat upright. "Hello, Mr. Serizawa, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm alright. And more importantly, Shinju is doing well," he answered. You sighed in relief. "I'm so glad to hear that," you replied, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder.

"It's been a huge relief," Mr. Seirzawa stated. "But that's not exactly why I called," he continued. "Our grandson is coming back into town next week and we won't be able to pick him up."

You smiled, knowing there this was going. "Any chance you could head to pick him up from the ferry station in the next town over?"

You nodded, mostly to yourself. "Of course," you answered. "I'll pick him up," you answered to his immense relief. "If you want to borrow our car, I can leave the keys at the shop for you."

"That's okay, Mr. Serizawa," you replied. "I'll just borrow one of my parents' cars." You heard him sigh on the other side of the line. "Thank you so much Y/N, you're really helping us out here. I'll call Daniel and let him know you'll be picking him up."

You wrote down the details, making sure to double check the time. "Okay, Mr. Serizawa. I'll call my dad right after this and get one of his cars to use," you said before finally saying goodbye and hanging up the line. You quickly put the details in your phone before pulling up your father’s contact info and took a deep breath.

"Here we go."

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader #series: under your skin #series: uys

[wedreamedlove]

The Depth of his Feelings - Evan Character Study

I am going to open this essay with a shocking sentence: Evan is an unreliable narrator.

One of the most magnetic traits Even has as a character is his resolve about his goals, even if it conflicts with his personal desires. This trait has led some people to misunderstand him and think he doesn't love the heroine until Chapter 17 and that he was just using her this entire time. Surprise! These two facts are not mutually exclusive, you can love and use someone at the same time.

(P.S. Every time I think about Evan's romance with his heroine, I think of Margaret Atwood's poem "A truth should exist, it should not be used like this. If I love you—is that a fact or a weapon?").

So, here I am going to tell you that Evan has been falling for the heroine ever since they first met and that it's just his ability to be stunningly ruthless (to his enemies and to himself) that created the "tragedy" of Chapter 16.

First though, I will prove that Evan is an unreliable narrator.

[SSR Illusionary Light - 11 Years Ago Late Autumn TRAJECTORY]

Evan: Every time I come to see you, it always seems to be raining. Evan: I heard it was also a thunderstorm the night I was born. Evan: That Guang Qi City had never experienced such a large storm for many, many years. Evan: At the time, you were alone in the hospital. You must have been very scared. Evan: Later, I often wonder whether or not this counts as a sign from God, that in fact I shouldn't have been born. Evan: That way we would have all been a little freer, and I wouldn't owe you anything. Evan: You wouldn't have had to suffer in silence and you could have left this household unencumbered, returning to who you were before. Evan: Your life would surely have been much better than now. Evan: I saw your past photos and many of them had smiles. Evan: It's a shame I never saw you smile. Evan: I know, you actually never loved me much, most of it was out of responsibility. Evan: I could see it. Evan: But you were the person who treated me best in that household. Evan: ... Mama, even now you must still hate me, right? Evan: All these years and you've never once come into my dreams. Evan: If that day I didn't insist on playing in the back courtyard, would this incident not have happened? Evan: I knew the path was icy, that it was very slippery and unsafe. Evan: Why does fate love to play with people? A person who doesn't want to live can always avoid death, while a person who wants to live ends up dead. Evan: It would have been best for everyone if the person who had drowned was me, right? I'm really not afraid.

At 15 years old, we see that Evan has been under the impression that his mother never loved him. This belief continues to the present and you can see it whenever he talks about his past or thinks about the concept of love. However, in Chapter 14, we are given another perspective.

[CHAPTER 14-5]

Letter: "Little Lang, I'm very sorry for how many creases this letter has." Letter: "My son has been very interested in origami recently and every paper in the house has suffered his ravage." Letter: "He's especially skilled at folding animals, so I asked him to fold a robin to be sent with this letter." Letter: "He knows I like to stay in my room and set the finished paper bird on the windowsill outside before leaving. Before I knew it, he's already grown this tall." Letter: "These are all irrelevant words. Thank you for your concern in the last letter, I'm living very well and I hope that you and my son will always be healthy and safe." The date was earlier than Evan's letter just now and the letter was signed by Robin. This was a past reply! Maybe too much time had passed, because I could no longer feel the emotions attached to it. But a gentle smile still appeared before my eyes, along with a woman who couldn't help but write these words as she watched her child do handcrafts below her windowsill. Did Evan not see that there was this reply? I stopped walking.

In truth, his mother did love him... it's just that things are complicated, such as how her relationship with Evan's dad deteriorated and how she forced a young Evan to practice the cello until his fingers bled or that she cared more about helping the innocent children caught up in the Eclipse Project over protecting her own son from the Blood Clan.

So, now that we know Evan can be an unreliable narrator, it makes his perspective on things untrustworthy.

[CHAPTER 16-13]

You knew it didn't belong to you, so you couldn't lose it. Relationships in this world were supposed to be like this. It was just that, when he took great pains to create a wound to keep her or perhaps even earlier, starting the day he tested her, the relationship between them had changed. Their so-called tacit understanding, coincidences, tears, forgiveness, concern, and trust... all of these were exchanged with lies. Evan turned around and directly pressed the button for the elevator. Just earlier, he nearly lost this weapon. He knew very well that if he didn't do this then she definitely wouldn't stay. Evan couldn't help but sigh emotionally at his superb acting. In that moment of hugging, persuasion to stay, comfort, heartache, jealousy, and interrogation, his body reacted before his brain as if he had really entered that scene. He even felt a faint pain in his chest. She had clearly been deceived, but she only cried and took a light revenge on him. Why didn't she hate him? Why did she still want to help him when she was tricked? Evan thought blankly. She ought to hate him. After being hurt so many times, she ought to know how to guard against him or ask him what he wanted. However, when she opened her bright eyes and took the initiative to say honestly that there was no reason, she just wanted to help him, Evan was at a loss. He even wanted to reach out and cover her eyes with his hand. He felt panicked for no reason, like his darkness and malice had been exposed bare without anywhere to hide.

Honestly, I think this scene in and of itself shows how much he is deceiving himself about his feelings. However, he has to harden his heart so that he can carry out his plan to use the heroine as a weapon to destroy the family head.

[CHAPTER 16 - EPISODE 2 IMPRESSIONS Scales of the Heart]

【1】 There was no moon tonight. Lu Castle stood quietly in the darkness, like a proud and silent shadow. Evan rejected Zhou Yan's offer to follow and walked into the castle alone. He didn't bother to maintain his gentleness of the past and ignored the bowing servants on both sides. His only goal was that man who had disappeared behind the truth. The dusty door to the study had not been opened for a long time and fine dust floated in the air. In the dim light, Evan was momentarily seized with terror but he soon reacted and turned his wrist slightly. The heavy thud of the closed door blocked all of the prying gazes behind him. Behind the large, black walnut desk was a heavy bookshelf that spanned the entire wall and was filled with all kinds of books accumulated over the years, many of which contained the history and secrets of the Blood Clan. Evan inspected this study. Without pausing for long, he walked over and took out the first book with a blank cover. He only had a short time to find what he wanted. Because, after two weeks, he had to present the most suitable vessel. 【2】 In the cold and silent study, only the sound of pages turning could be heard. "It's not this either..." Evan set down the file in his hand again. On it was his father's handwriting, which he was all too familiar with. A long time had passed and reason told him that those people may have noticed his actions, but he still relentlessly searched for evidence—was she a "god"? Evan lowered his eyes, concealing a hint of fatigue. His confrontation with Lu Ting had turned intense and the matter he had looked forward to had a new opportunity. His brain clearly knew what he should do, but a trace of hesitation appeared in his heart. He had forgotten this sort of emotion after his first trial. He searched for that evidence almost unconsciously, but he was uncertain if he truly wanted to obtain that answer. He just kept on repeating this futile action. His longstanding goal, the end of his longing; he had searched and planned for this for a long time and he had anticipated everything he needed to abandon on this road a long time ago. However, when this moment finally came, he found himself hesitating. 【3】 In the past, Evan had imagined it countless times. What was the deepest seabed like? It was lonely and dark, without a ray of light, and there was no way to convey sound, like a prison with no structure. And what was the end of the Blood Clan like? Perhaps it was the opposite of that, a void of nothingness. This bloody and sinful race would greet an eternal sleep in the void. They would have no reincarnation, no future, they would not be recorded in history, and they would be completely forgotten at the end. Recalling the savage and imbecilic arrogance of the Blood Clan controlled by desires, Evan let out a soft sneer from his throat. He knew that there were many eyes watching him, Lu Ting, his grandfather, and the clan. They were expecting him to succeed or perhaps they were expecting him to make a mistake. But he was no longer the child he was back then, and his plan could finally be started. It was just that the girl needed to be used as the most important chip. The scales of fate treated every person who experienced time fairly; to seize something meant losing something at the same time. 【4】 "If she really is a god..." The light in the study flickered for a moment and was caught by Evan's eyes, but the depths of his eyes were still a patch of darkness. He couldn't help but consider this possibility, and many of his guesses were confirmed. Or perhaps the day he tested her with a phantasmagoria, his subconscious had already made a judgment. "What do they think I'm going to do?" That he would do his best to prove the girl did not have the power of a god and could not be used as a vessel for the family head, thus exposing that his relationship with her was close, so much so that he would disregard the highest interests of his race? It was a shame they guessed wrong. If she was a god, then his plan would only become smoother. He would teach her how to use that power—this was also what he wanted to find in the archives—make her become his sharpest blade, and then give her to the family head as a "bomb" that would detonate in desperation. However, when he made this decision, his original thought still lingered—it would be great if he really couldn't find that evidence, he could lie to himself and he could still... send her home as usual. 【5】 Finally, Evan found a secret file in a corner of the bookshelf. He flipped it open. The paper was already yellow and it revealed to him the secret that had been concealed for many years—gods were once experiments of the Blood Clan and his father wrote many coded words about the power of the gods. The scales of his heart swung violently because of this secret. On one side of the scale was his longstanding obsession, on the other side was his already wavering feelings. He knew this opportunity was the chance of a lifetime and, if he missed it, it might be difficult to wait until the next time. He couldn't allow nor accept such a failure. The folder fell on the table and papers scattered in a mess. Evan took off the glasses set on the bridge of his nose and walked to the window. There was no moon in the sky outside, only twinkling stars that watched everything under the sky. To them, the obsessions and various turns and chapters of the world were nothing but insignificant moments. At this inopportune time, he wondered what the girl was doing right now. Was she worrying about the heavy work these days, or was she celebrating her success at this stage? Evan hesitated for a moment and then was silent for a long time. Finally, the scale still crashed to one side. His pale and stern face was reflected on the dark window and he withdrew his eyes, his expression turning cold. There had always been only one path he walked: by all means, without fear of sacrifice. Therefore, at least in this moment, and maybe only in this moment, he wanted to make this sort of choice.

First, I have to gush about this passage because it is one of my favorite impressions. It almost breaks the 4th wall, because among the eyes that are watching Evan's actions are ours, the readers, and we think we know the answer because this is an otome game and he is a male lead, except Evan takes this to the brink of no return. The repercussions of his actions, depicted later in the game, only cement the weight of the decision he makes here. He is so ruthless!

However, if there are still doubts about his feelings (despite how obvious his inner conflict has been depicted) then his actions later should thoroughly convince everyone of his feelings because:

After giving the heroine to the family head as a bomb, Evan was 0.1cm away from achieving his lifelong goal, except he turns back to save the heroine, thus exposing himself to all his enemies;

Evan, who could have killed the family head and Lu Ting, missed his opportunity because Lu Ting distracted him with the heroine's safety and now Lu Ting is stronger than ever after consuming the family head's soul; and

Warson is experiencing a financial crisis, thanks to Lu Ting manipulating the stocks, but Evan takes the risk in allowing the heroine to keep her fashion project under the brand Pristine instead of moving it to a more reliable brand for profit, an action that goes against what the chairman of Warson should do to maximize profits.

Now, look me in the eye and tell me that Evan is not horribly in love with the heroine, because he is making things endlessly hard on himself by making all these mistakes and concessions for her. This man is absolutely wrecked by love.

Shifting gears, but it's intriguing that Evan and the heroine share a commonality in how they were very close to their maternal grandmothers, one of the few people that showed them unconditional love. In Chapter 16, Zhou Yan comments on how the heroine reminds him of a younger Evan, because they both have a gentle exterior but they are opinionated and, once they set their eyes on a goal, they will achieve it no matter what. Evan believes they are similar because they both became tools.

However, my opinion is that both Evan and the heroine are too soft for their own good. Evan chides the heroine many times in his mind about how she's better off without him, but honestly the same can be said for him because he never considers his own safety when it comes to her either.

[CHAPTER 17-5]

Matters had come to this point, but why did she still not hate him? She should hate him after being tormented like this. Evan: Have you never thought about yourself? Evan: You should wish for something to happen to me, not worry about my safety. Evan: You're not eating properly or sleeping properly. You're disobedient, and you never learn.

[SSR Enticing Feast DATE]

Everything had been arranged to let her see his true self. That vile, contemptible, hypocritical, and brutal self. It was best for her to hate him. The farther away she was, the safer. So, when he saw her rejecting him with natural fear and dread on her face, he only felt happy.

But Evan and the heroine are helplessly drawn to each other and I once wrote an essay about how their relationship can be summarized "Like Moths to Flames". I'm actually going to revisit this topic again because the Light and Night writers have added a lot more onto this imagery.

In my opinion, while it isn't a golden rule in stories with traditional gothic vampires, a lot of creators like to explore the aspect of how these creatures—so closely linked to death but are immortal—long for some kind of oblivion. The ultimate romance for them is something that ends in their own ruin and death.

Now, look at these exhibits below, and see how Evan's feelings for the heroine also flirts with death.

[Serene Forest Night EVENT]

Did four-legged animals use less energy when they walked? My thoughts flew to the skies and I pestered Evan, asking him, if you can turn into an animal, what will you choose? Evan looked around and a moth happened to pass in front of us. He pointed at it casually and said, I'll be a moth then. Honestly, he must be joking.

[SSR Illusionary Light - 14 Years Ago Summer TRAJECTORY]

The second thing I lost was a mechanical pocket watch. I couldn't sleep the night after I threw it into the fireplace. The wind whistled outside and I felt my temples throb again and again, much like the tempo of that watch. That night I felt that I was about to become a pocket watch, a heinous one that would lead people astray and had to suffer abuse. I wanted to be it, I wanted to be it so badly. From the moment it broke free from my hand and threw itself eagerly into the face of the raging flames, I saw a kind of inspiration that put me to shame.

[CHAPTER 16-13]

Suddenly, a small figure appeared in front of my eyes. It was a skinny boy and he knelt in front of a fireplace that burned vividly like a fiery sunset. A few wooden blocks hit him all of a sudden and the boy picked them up without a word, throwing them into the fire silently. The flames leapt, just like the light in a pupil. The scene ended. I couldn't see the boy's face, but somehow I felt that it was familiar.

[CHAPTER 16-15]

These days I couldn't help but think of the scene I saw when I touched it that day. That must have been Evan's past. I didn't know why he threw those wooden blocks into the fireplace. Later, I tried to touch it again but I still couldn't see the cause, I could only see his hands gripping the hem of his clothes tightly. I even had the misconception that he wanted to throw himself into those raging flames.

[CHAPTER 16-15]

He suddenly thought sorrowfully that, if she were to open her eyes in this moment, would she find that he was this unfamiliar to begin with? The person that you admired, that you cared about, that you forgave, was actually not him. Meanwhile, because he acted as that person, he lost himself in the act. He was too close. The girl's breath hit his face and it was very hot. It made him recall the firelight of the fireplace which had also once thrown itself onto his face like this many years ago. Time stood still in this inopportune moment and he was startled by the sudden surge of desire in his body. Evan straightened up and made himself cool down quickly. Desire turned to disappointment and stuffed his chest full. Don't get any closer, he told himself. Don't get any closer.

[CHAPTER 17-5]

Evan closed his eyes. He had carried out countless plans but this was the only time where he didn't know whether it was a success or a failure. Originally, he had only wanted to hide her that day and confess everything to her after the crisis was dealt with. It didn't matter even if she hated him, as long as she didn't leave again. He would rather be entangled to the bitter end than be strangers who owed nothing to each other. This wasn't right, but he wanted to do this and so he did. He had never been as loyal to his heart as he was then, truly and genuinely fighting for something for once. However, matters developed to this point and escaped his control a long time ago. In that case, she should just... hate him to the end then. It was better than being strangers.

In conclusion, I honestly think it's impossible to say that Evan was simply using the heroine until he caught feelings for her Chapter 16 and onwards. He's been attracted to someone who can so easily be his ruin since the very beginning and every step he's taken since has been him struggling with his goal and personal desires.

(P.S. Did you catch how I named this essay the depth of his feelings because of the homonym between "depth" and "death"? Haha, I'm sorry for the terrible joke.)

Lastly, I will end this essay with this scene about how hard Evan wishes to tie himself to the heroine, even after death.

[SR Butterfly Kiss On Top]

[MC]: Evan, if there was a day I left this world, will I also become a butterfly? Evan was slightly startled and the fingers that held my palm gradually closed in. Evan: What kind of butterfly do you wish to become? [MC]: Hmm... I've thought about it and, never mind, I don't really want to be a butterfly. I pulled Evan to jog a few steps forward and the light that spilled through the tree branches fluctuated. [MC]: I'll become sunlight! Then I can shine on the person I want to shine on. [MC]: When I land on him, he'll be able to feel my remaining warmth. I swung Evan's hand and sheepishly stuck out my tongue. [MC]: Does it sound a little weird? But Evan lowered his eyes, which contained a smile. Evan: Not at all. [MC]: What about you then? What do you want to become? He thought for a while, looking over my shoulder at the ray of light on the low wall. Evan: Dust, I suppose. [MC]: Oh? Why do you want to become dust? I stopped involuntarily and Evan raised his hand, combing my hair that had been tangled by the breeze. Evan: Dust is often difficult for people to detect, only when it's in the sunlight can you see its floating motes. Evan: I don't care whether or not I can be seen by others— Evan: Because it's only when you perceive me that my existence has meaning.

#光与夜之恋 #light and night #LN Evan #LN Lu Chen #meta of light and night

[rise-my-angel]

Ned Stark never told Jon the truth for multiple reasons, a big one being about the extremely tenuous spread of information. If by telling Jon, there was ANY chance that that others may learn and it could reach Robert, he would not risk it.

There's clearly a reason after the war, Howland Reed returned to Greywater Watch to sit on a swamp bog lilypad in complete silence for twenty years.

Any chance of the wrong people learning this truth puts Jons life at immediate risk, something Ned won't allow. Protecting Jons life at the cost of some of his relationships with the ones he loves, is a sacrifice he has to make. One of his final thoughts is of guilt, wishing he could talk to Jon just one more time, implying he doesn't want to leave this world with his son thinking Ned raised him this way out of shame or spite.

There's also the fact that Ned is clearly a man with deep trauma. Most of the main older characters from Roberts Rebellion we meet are trapped at that age. Their traumas never really let them move passed that era and its clearly effected the men they've become. Ned Stark, Robert Baratheon, Jon Connington, Jaime Lannister, even Howland Reed. All characters who never really lived passed that war and its greatly effected their lives as older men.

It means that while it isn't fair, Ned does not discuss those days, Jons mother, or even Lyanna in general because he is still trapped in that room she died in. Ned is still metaphorically that young man, sat catatonic at his little sisters now dead bedside. Ned doesn't shut all that down from his family and Jon to just keep him in the dark, its Ned spending Jons entire lifetime with deepy unresolved trauma that he now has no idea how to process. Shutting down emotionally about his families death and not truly processing the greif isn't even singular to Ned. This is a trait we literally see with Jon later on once he thinks hes lost basically his entire family, not really processing those loses in a healthy manner.

So if shutting down from trama is a flaw you put towards Ned, then its Jons flaw too. They both are extremely closed off about greif.

Again, Ned in his final pov chapter feels shame when thinking of how he and Jon will part ways with each other before Ned can fix his wrongs. Ned doesn't want Jon to think he raised him this way with any ill intent, Ned raised Jon that way out of deeply rooted fear for losing his son. And Ned wants Jon to know that hes sorry if he ever made Jon feel anything less then that love.

Its easy to fall into Jons pov trap, where the thinks his father abaondoned him to the Wall because thats what he thought Jon deserved. But the books clearly explain that Ned always wanted Jon to stay in Winterfell with Robb. But between the turmoil of Roberts appearance, the mystery of Lysa accusing the Lannisters of murder, and then realizing Jon wants Benjen to convince his father to let him go and Catelyn pressuring Ned to make Jon go, he concedes. At the least, even if Jon hates him for it, if Jons at the Wall hes as far from Roberts wrath as he could get.

Ned lets him go, but Ned always wanted Jon to stay in Winterfell where he belongs. Ned never treated Jon like a pariah. Ned treated Jon better then most bastards ever get from their highborn families, but did not give too much special treatment in order to keep eyes off of him for his saftey. The less people who pay attention to Jon, the less chance anyone would ever put it together. And keeping Jon a bastard, means while he receives the stigma that comes from it, most people who Ned would be scared of Jon interacting with, will now ignore him. It hurts for Jon, but Ned again, knows its better then someone putting the truth together and winding up having Jons life at risk.

Even through what Jon doesn't understand about his father continues to bother him, Jon actively still pushes away every older male his life trying to position themselves as a psuedo father figure to him, because despite it all, Jon knows the only father he wants or ever needed, was Ned Stark.

Ned was not perfect in the manners which pertain to Jon, but to pretend as if Jons unobjective pov of insecurities and fears stemming from not having the context of his father keeping such a massive secret, is secretly some smoking gun proof that Ned was actually a bad father or deserves to have Jon discount being raised and loved by him his whole life?

It is completely disingenuous.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow #ned stark #eddard stark #anti rhaegar targaryen #anti rhaegar stans #anti targaryen #anti targ stans

[mana-jjk]

Mana.... Hows jjk 261 :3 (im bawling my eyes out)

hi babes <3 !

i’m coping so hard right now, but this chapter gave so much to think about in terms of characterization too.

spoilers under the cut !! i’m so serious y’all, you will be majorly spoiled if you keep reading

ok so first of all, i feel so vindicated that everyone is starting to realize how much of a crazy bitch yuuta is. i’ve been saying since day one that the boy is unhinged and i love him for it. i think it’s interesting how in general, the second years all fall under a different morality stance that impacts each other.

i don’t think the typical moral alignment chart really fits them, so let me ramble for a second.

maki is a bit true neutral to me in that she will turn her nose to the society set before her, because it’s wrong. she has strong ideals, but her behavior used to be very much of looking out for herself before much else. that means hurting others feelings, not giving into designated good behavior to make it easier for others, goals dedicated to breaking the glass ceiling rather than any passion to save anyone. her actions may lean to an objective good and evil stance, whatever may be necessary. i think her stance is definitely swayed by her comrades. the initial reaction to yuuta possessing gojo’s body was immediate refusal. it’s almost odd that she’s had such a strong reaction to it, considering her past attitude of doing whatever may be necessary. her real reaction stems from the danger that has the potential of impacting yuuta.

panda is definitely more interesting in that he’s not human. he’s most often shown as one of the more empathetic in the show despite his inhuman origins. yet at the same time, he’s very tactical and thinks of humans and their emotions as strange. there’s an almost juxtaposition of that kind nature in combination with a degree of separation that is visceral in nature. case in point, panda acknowledges that there is danger to yuuta in this case, yet he has the most subdued reaction to such. is this because he cares less? i don’t think so. however, another point is when yuuta is screaming about becoming a monster. panda shows little to no reaction outwardly. again, you have to ponder the choice in this. yuuta used to be the prime example of his inability to understand humans and their emotions. i do wonder if that’s still the case after masamichi was killed. they both lost a figure deeply important to them. the difference is that panda refrained from enacting vengeance and instead displayed his, perhaps most genuine, showcase of emotion. part of panda’s journey is about discovering where he stands in society. reacting to this in such a way feels like an acceptance of that journey coming to an end. he understands yuuta, because he had to become more in order to process these tragedies, with another on the horizon.

i think i’ve said this before, but i do see potential where toge would’ve been set up as the moral compass of the second years (if gege didn’t keep forgetting about him). out of all the characters, toge was set up to be one of the most self-sacrificial. silencing and isolating himself his entire life to prevent cursing others, trying to make yuuta stay back or run away when there’s danger, protecting megumi despite the damage to his throat, asking nobara not to kill one of the very few people who knows a dangerous weakness of cursed speech, protecting an entire civilian crowd by himself, and so on. but there’s smaller pieces too. stopping maki from bullying yuuta, protesting sending yuuji alone during the exchange event, always choosing non-violent commands on his peers if necessary, physically stepping in to stop todo from harassing megumi, checking in on the others well being. i’ve always seen that moment with maki and stopping her as indicative to their relationship. if he says she’s gone too far, she trusts him. his reaction to yuuta’s speech is also the most visceral, there’s a hint of horror on his face that you can’t see with anyone else. it’s a terror i only have to assume at the knowledge that yuuta cannot, will not be stopped. and for toge, who has so much of his character built around care, it must be so horrifying to know that you are helpless to save the one you care about most, as helpless as he was to prevent the decimation of the civilians entrusted to him in shibuya.

yuuta actually tickles my brain in the best way y’all. i have SO MUCH to say about this man and his morals. what is absolutely crazy is that you would think yuuta is being set up as the straight man (not literally, that boy is bisexual as fuck), but in that he did not grow up in their society. maki, toge, and panda were all groomed from birth to be soldiers. ready to do what is necessary to save civilians. megumi said it best, they’re not heroes, they’re jujutsu sorcerers. that means being deplorable sometimes, expecting not to save everyone, yet willing to die in an instance without cursing the world. despite this, somehow it’s yuuta who emulates these values the most. where others may protest the ethics of the body swap, yuuta intercepts with bone-chilling anger. where toge refrains from using permanently damaging curse words, the first one and most common yuuta uses is ‘die,’ where others might turn tail and run, yuuta digs in his heel and does what is necessary. likely this is a byproduct of growing up with the vengeful spirit of rika for five years. single-handedly, he was responsible for numerous injuries and deaths even before arriving at the school. we see this byproduct in his willingness in biting the faces off roaches, killing yuuji, and taking it upon himself to kill his mentor’s best friend not once, but twice. and then letting the copy of rika EAT HIM !!

were these all necessary at the time? of course, but the moral strain, the implications of his mental state in order to do so is one that is vastly underestimated.

yuuta killed yuuji.

with his own hand, he cut through flesh and blood and bone and dug through to the other side. he did it without a twitch in his face, he did it after chasing him through the city. yuuji did not lie down and take it, he ran and he fought for his life. the desperation on yuuji’s face, the terror, the chilling understanding that he would not survive this. he might have healed him, but what kind of person do you think it takes to go through with that? yes, it was necessary. but i want you to imagine yourself in that position. it’s not a moment to take lightly, especially if you’re not entirely sure if it will work. taking this all to the present day, if you were surprised at the lengths yuuta will go, i truly cannot imagine why.

gojo satoru is not being used as a weapon. he is a tribute. the very act in itself is an accolade, the only eulogy they can afford to provide. the act of desecration is a love letter, a legacy borne of blood soaked thorns and crumbling graves. the strongest, the one and only, the honored one. untouchable, unreachable, an unattainable monster. gojo describes others as the flowers that fester and grow, who love in theory but never truly understand. do you understand the gut-wrenching tragedy it takes for someone as blessed as yuuta to sink into the grime that no one dares venture, to foresake his blessings to become the decomposition, the nourishment of these roots, to take over like a parasite, a hive mind, if only to ensure the loss is not in vain?

no one is looking at this the right way.

yuuta isn’t disrespecting gojo by using his body as a weapon, he is honoring him in the only way he knows how. he’s taking his life, filled with blessings, friends that adore him, the chances for love and happiness, the journey it took for him to come here, and laying it out in offering. i see your pain, i see your endings, and to ensure you rest in peace, i will ensure that these hands finally lay to rest that which has taken so much from you.

yuuta loves gojo, he loves him so completely that he became a monster far before this act. he killed his best friend so he wouldn’t have to, he killed the parasitic host of his best friend so he wouldn’t have to, there’s so much blood on his hands it’s hard to tell where the devotion ends and humanity begins.

we can scream black and blue that this is wrong, that he deserves a proper rest, that they are abandoning the humanity in which they strive so much to save. to that i say, no shit, it’s almost like that’s the point. asking children to fight in a war they never asked for is wrong. training these children from birth and grooming them to be weapons before they even know how to define what it means to die is wrong. trying to execute teenagers with no knowledge or understanding of their abilities or place in this society is wrong. telling teenagers who will never experience a normal school life to engage in suicide missions, knowing they have no chance is wrong. demanding that they place priority over lives, especially over their own is wrong. outlawing their very existence, to which was groomed specifically for their society, is wrong. asking them to plan for their early demise, to greet death with acceptance rather than rage, is wrong. it’s all wrong, it’s all a product of a broken society that could never move forward. asking them to fight with amputated limbs, disfigured skin, and no one to mourn their existence beyond the circle of lives at the beck and call is wrong. but the end of sukuna is a potential turning point, the end of a generational transition cycle that continues to cog forward. gojo hated this society most of all, and i have no doubt that he has brought the end of it.

if not the death of the elders, it is the death of himself that spurs the same change that came with his birth. it’s almost tragic that gojo’s life mission was to ensure that the youth could live their lives to the fullest, yet he had to accept that their lives would be laid down regardless. gojo sacrificed his entire life, from birth to death to be a protector. yes he stopped executions, he gave chances to many who would have otherwise been ostracized, yet all in the same they lay down their lives and die all too soon. children he helped raise, children he would have done anything for, children who now face his death with their own bodies in the line of fire. in the end, he didn’t change a thing. prolonged death sentences maybe, yet what does it matter if they die by their society or by sukuna’s hand? that is why yuuta needed to take his body. because gojo is not done, he cannot be laid to rest until the final obstacle is out of the way. a last wish, the closing of a door, the balance of what was good and necessary.

as long as sukuna lives, they have failed. and yuuta, the one most blessed by the efforts of gojo, the one who had the most to live for, understands that more than anyone else.

the truth is that gojo was so completely adored by his student, in a way even he didn’t understand. children who were saved by him, the outcasts of the jujutsu world who were given a family because of him. megumi who was able to escape the zenins, yuuji who was given a prolonged execution, nobara who finally had people sitting in her chairs, maki who was fighting against the foundation, panda who was not even human, toge who’s very life was outlawed, yuuta who had long since lost all reason to live. they found each other because of gojo, they found reason to live in each other. because of that, they found the confidence to die too.

jujutsu kaisen for these very reasons is not for the faint of heart. the death of nanami was the tipping point of a decent into darkness in which children are not spared. there are no children in a war of this scale, only born and raised soldiers who will live and die a life documented only by the tragic losses unknown by the rest of society. the people who were everything, the people they would have done anything for, not even a smear in history. unnamed, unthanked, unnoticed in their absence to the rest of society. because even a happy story like yuuta’s is built on the knowledge that every blessing was only a prolonged sacrifice.

he would give up everything and anything, because that was the only way to ensure the people he loved, his everything and anything, lived to see another day. that is what becoming a monster truly means. the capability and willingness to become an ugly, wretched, and cruel being, if only to ensure you are the strongest.

however, yuuta does have something that gojo was never quite able to keep. the love and devotion matched in full by his comrades, unwilling to let him face these battles alone. therefore, even as tragedy trudges on, i truly hope this is where we can see the potential of the established bond in the second years.

i will continue being delusional, if only to believe my found family will not yet be ripped apart (like yuuta). so to answer your question, i too am suffering !! slice of life alternate universe when

#inumaki toge #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #maki zenin #jjk panda #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru #jjk spoilers #jjk 261 #can you tell i have an unhealthy amount of thoughts