#trying to fix and match the lighting in these was a personal attack i will not soon forget

[hyunjinspark]

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 18

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 

word count: 33K

warnings: cursing, drinking, mature content, heavyyyy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, unrequited love, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, whipped hyunjin, a big confrontation, lots of heartbreaks, mentions of diet, mentions of threats, toxic idol culture, a scene of unwarranted sexual advances! (not from hyunjin)

a/n: whew, this is another big chapter and picks up from hyunjin's pov after he moved back to the city, hope that's not confusing! there's a lot of toxicity surrounding idol culture, and features mature language and content throughout. please read the warnings to make sure you're comfortable with everything. this fic has taken a life of it's own, and im really enjoying focusing on yn's character arc, along with the obvious lovestory. this isn't a feel-good chapter, it features a lot of angst and uncomfortable situations, but i promise things will get better after this! anyway, this was very fun to write and picks up on one of my favorite arcs of this story. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

Five Months Ago.

The electric blue guitar in Hyunjin’s hands felt familiar. He adjusted the strap around his body, he was getting used to the weight of it again. It had been a while since he’d touched it, fingers skimming over the strings. If he focused on this, he could ignore the blaring lights in his face. 

“Still not used to the spotlight, Jinnie?” Jisung asked, elbowing him in the stomach. Hyunjin doubled over, avoiding another attack from the man, “Ouch. The lights are brighter than I remember”

“Well, how else will they get our pretty faces on camera?” Jisung grinned, stepping in front of him, and thankfully blocking the heat of the lights. 

“I’m…really hot” Hyunjin declared, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead, “I hope they can fix the cooling in here”

Jisung sighed, lifting his guitar to help him tune it, taking the weight momentarily off his hands. As he did that, someone stepped up to Hyunjin, a little electric fan and makeup palette in hand, “Can you please hold this? Your makeup’s running”

“Sorry” He apologised, even though it was no one’s fault. The stage equipment and lights made the set far too hot, the air conditioning was broken and they’d only just begun. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom what the full day of filming would look like. He held the little fan to his face, the cool instantly relaxing his muscles with relief, shoulders sagging from tension. Jisung stood between them still, trying to tune his guitar and the makeup lady awkwardly stepped closer, patting down the foundation on Hyunjin’s cheeks, “Did you tan when you were away?”

“Um, I suppose. I was out in the sun a lot” He responded, but realised quickly that she didn’t really want a response. She was berating him because his usual foundation no longer matched him. Her lips pulled into a thin line, “You should be careful”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up. Careful about…what exactly? When he was in Daejon, swimming in the Creek, or lounging away in the sun, his first concern wasn’t exactly putting on any heavy sunscreen. He was away from the world of…such.

“He just doesn’t know his face would cost the company millions of won" Jisung joked. It was irresponsible, sure, but he had more important things distracting him at the time. At the memory of the bright Daejon sun, Hyunjin smiled, closing his eyes briefly to revel in the memory. If he thought hard enough, the blaring spotlights could almost replicate the southern summer sun. It was hard to get lost in his imagination though. The lady was prodding and poking at his face, turning him this and that side so she could fix him. This wasn’t the time.

“There. Try playing it now” Jisung said proudly, standing up straight and letting go of Hyunjin’s guitar. So he played a tempo to test it, and the music seemed perfectly fine now. In the end, it was futile anyway. The company didn’t allow them to play live in the music video. Apparently they had no faith that the boys wouldn’t mess up the instruments after such a long hiatus, and there was no time or money for retakes and reshoots. So, they would only pretend to play, and lip-sync the words and hopefully someone in the editing department would make it seem real. Still, Hyunjin was going to try his hardest to genuinely play. He hated pretending.

“Close your eyes,” The lady mumbled, an annoyed tone that frankly felt unwarranted. He followed the instructions, and felt the tip of a brush poking at his eyes as she reapplied some of the darker eyeshadow. The concept for this album was pop-rock, leaning heavily into the rock, and so their makeup was inspired from the 1980s world of rock.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asked, as she used a little too much force on him, making his eyes water under the sharp brush.

“Hmm?” She was none the wiser, and he suddenly wondered if he should backtrack, but he wouldn’t be able to continue the filming knowing one of their makeup artists was possibly mad at him. “You…seem upset” He said. 

A sigh followed, “I’m not upset, I just think you should take better care of yourself. Jisung was right, you know? Your face does cost us thousand of won. I understand you’ve just come back from vacation but if you don’t do your job, it’s very difficult for me to do mine”

“Right” He nodded, sudden guilt overwhelming him, “Can I open my eyes now?”

With the confirmation, he did and looked at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future” 

She smiled, pulling at his cheek, “It’s good to have you back, kid”

Within seconds, the set jumped back to life. Chan ran onto the stage, getting into his position, and Changbin followed. They were both visibly upset, due to the company not allowing them to sing live, but years in this industry had made them numb to some of that anger. Hyunjin took his place on the stage, as the cameras adjusted and thirty-something people gathered before them, ready to film. He wished he could sneak one look in the mirror before filming, for the reassurance that he didn’t look like a total clown, but he trusted the kind makeup lady. 

“All right, boys” Chan looked at them, microphone stand in his hands, “From the top, yeah?”

The backing track began on cue, and Hyunjin’s heart pounded like it hadn’t in ages. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to do a full-fledged music video shoot so soon after the hiatus. Did he even remember his chords right? The audience may not be looking at his hands, but he sure as hell would be. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a breath, hoping he didn’t mess up for the sake of their team. Millions of people would watch this. Thousands would instantly know they weren’t actually singing, and he had grown tired of the accusations. Most of those people would be rooting for his failure, and he could imagine the myriad of hate comments about how Hyunjin should never have returned to the band. Maybe it was a mistake being back in the spotlight so soon. Chan’s hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He leaned in to whisper, loud enough for only Hyunjin to hear, “Forget everyone else, Jinnie. She’s going to love this”

A surprised smile tugged on Hyunjin’s lips just as the spotlight hit him, and the camera began rolling.

»»————-

Later that night, Jisung crawled into his bed. He pulled the blue comforter off Hyunjin’s aching legs, settling cross-legged across him. The filming had taken a toll on him, and he’d really let himself go when he was away. It usually took a lot more to get him this tired, and he was still adjusting to this new schedule. Jisung leaned against the wall, releasing a sigh of contentment. This had become second nature to them, a routine to sit, talk, and catch up on the past few months of summer. They’d stayed in touch through text, but it wasn’t the same. Some nights, they’d go for a walk, find an open barbecue place, and eat into the early hours of dawn. Other nights, they’d stay in the dorm and order some cheesecake, and Jisung would tell him everything he missed. Every anecdote, each funny moment, painstaking details of how many different ways he’d embarrassed himself. Hyunjin had missed a lot, so he’d sit and listen to the tales of the city that he’d pined for all this while. It was good to return to the life he’d left behind. Everything was different here, and sometimes it felt like summer had existed in a void away from the world. Jisung would also ask him about his hometown, but Hyunjin never knew where to start, so he preferred to listen to Jisung instead. He had a lot more to say anyway. 

Tonight was different. Jisung asked him about you.

And that wasn’t the routine.

“I don’t really know what you want me to tell you” Hyunjin laughed, and they were both tucked into blankets, like kids bonding at their first sleepover. 

“You’ve talked about this girl all freaking summer, and now you have nothing to say?”

“Well, yeah, you already know everything” Hyunjin mumbled, flush rising up. They never had this dynamic before, this…sharing of crushes, or whatever it could be called. Jisung was usually the one in relationships out of the two of them, and Hyunjin would never bug him about it. Not until Jisung told him himself. So, Hyunjin didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah, I know the shortened version you sent over text, but…how’d she react when you said you’re coming back?”

Hyunjin swallowed, memories flashing through his mind of his last night in his hometown, “She was really upset”

“Upset, like…didn’t talk to you kind of upset, or…had sex with you before you left— upset?”

The words sent a flush up Hyunjin’s neck, and he knew this was exactly what Jisung wanted. This was his intention. To embarrass him. To celebrate this new dynamic, when Hyunjin was the one with a stupid crush and not the other way around.

“We didn’t have sex” He clarified. Jisung’s eyes widened, “Really? Not even on the last night?”

Hyunjin leaned his head against the wall, playing with the threads of the blanket. The last night was complicated, for all the right and the wrong reasons, so he settled for the most matter-of-fact answer, “I didn’t have any condoms”

“Shut up, I know that’s not true. I sent you like a huge box your first week in Daejon. Don’t tell me you never used them…”

Hyunjin laughed at the memory, “Thank you for that Jisung, but…I’d already packed it away. I didn’t really expect anything to happen anyway. I thought she’d be too upset at me for leaving”

“So…that’s the only reason?”

Hyunjin swallowed, knowing that if perhaps they’d had an hour longer together that night, things would probably have led straight to that, condoms or no condoms, “Well…we were out of time”

“You spent months with this girl. How were you out of time?”

Hyunjin sighed, “There was no right moment. I didn’t want it to be rushed—”

“No rush? As if you wouldn’t bust a nut as soon as you’re—” Jisung was interrupted with a smack in the face by a pillow, voice turning high, “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”

“I’m not talking about this anymore” Hyunjin laughed, the red reaching the tips of his ears.

“That’s pretty unfair, you know. I used to tell you every detail of my relationship with Mae, down to the nitty-gritty details”

Hyunjin looked up at him. It had been a while since he’d talked about Mae so freely, and he swallowed, “How are you holding up?”

Jisung’s smile fell, humorous demeanour disappearing in seconds, “She’s happy now”

The statement meant so much more than he let on. Happy now. As in, she wasn’t happy before, when she was dating Jisung. Thinking back on it now, their breakup had been explosive, and it seemed like Jisung was still picking up the pieces. Was this what the rest of Hyunjin’s life would look like? Surrounded by miserable relationships destroyed by their careers. He can’t recall the last time he witnessed a love story with a happy ending. He sighed, “That sucks man”

Jisung shrugged, “It is what it is”

Hyunjin stretched out his legs under the blanket, letting out a soft groan, “Man, my limbs haven’t hurt like this in ages”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “You’re getting soft, big boy. We’re hitting the studio tomorrow at six. Album release is only a month away now”

His phone buzzed and he reached for it immediately. “Is that her?” Jisung asked, smiling.

“Yup” Hyunjin typed in a quick text to you, “She’s…telling me about her day”

“Is that all you guys do?” Jisung asked, a smirk on his face, scrolling up on their chats, without permission. He let out a dramatic gasp, “What are you writing her all these long-ass paragraphs for? It feels like I’m reading a book. Big red flag. At least break it up into multiple texts”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I mean, there’s a lot she’s interested to know about my life here. I like telling her what we’re up to. If you see it from an outside perspective, it’s pretty cool. She really loves it”

Jisung laughed, eyebrows wiggling like a kid, “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what she loves”

Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Stop. We’re just…really close friends now”

“Does she know that?”

He didn’t like this conversation anymore and what it implied. He informed him for the umpteenth time, “I told her from the start that I don’t do relationships. She knows.”

Jisung was still scrolling through their chat, probably hoping to find something steamy but stopped at the media that Hyunjin had shared, letting out a gasp, “Wait a minute. Have you been sending her our studio recordings?” 

“Yes” Hyunjin frowned, “She likes those”

“You know, Eunwoo would have a heart attack if he knew you were leaking unreleased music”

Hyunjin sighed. Jisung was always so dramatic. “I’m not leaking anything. It’s only to her. She’s not going to show anyone”

“And how do you know that?”

“I trust her” Hyunjin’s reply was automatic, “More than anything”

Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling, tilting his head, “Even more than me?”

He chuckled, grabbing his phone back, “Shut up”

»»————-

He had been waking up earlier than usual, and he’d find himself at the kitchen table first thing in the morning, watching the sun rise through their apartment window. It was always fun to greet the boys as soon as they woke. He’d missed them for so long and he was trying to cherish every moment with them. Jisung would joke about how obsessed he was with them, often hovering like a parent around the house in the morning, waiting for their kids to wake up. It was strange because Hyunjin wasn’t an early riser, but his thirst to spend time with them overpowered his desire to lay in bed. He sat at the kitchen island scribbling ideas in a little journal Changbin bought him. It had admittedly become his diary, filled with crazy ideas, midnight thoughts, and sketches for paintings. 

The dance practices had got easier in the past weeks, and his limbs felt lighter. It almost took no time for him to get back to normal, sucked into the whirlpool of obligations that his life offered. There were so many interviews, press junkets, editorials, and he was back in the studio every night. He’d missed that grandly — getting to work on the music and, for the first time, writing his songs into the album. All of that made everything else worth it — like when they couldn’t leave their dorm because it was surrounded by paparazzi. They’d crowded around the building, hoping to get a glimpse at or any comments out of Jisung. Unfortunately, Jisung was still in the middle of a huge legal battle with the media that had leaked every detail of his personal life and relationship. Hyunjin didn’t understand how Jisung managed to still be so sane, after something like that rocked his world.

But slowly, he carved time in his life to start painting again, between schedules of course. An art shop in Hongdae was perfect for his needs. It was small and convenient, and he could be away from the public eye when he was in it. He found time for you. In changing rooms, backstage, in five-minute breathers between practice, he’d text you when he could. 

“You’re up early” Chan smiled, and Hyunjin looked up at him. He was already dressed, and he moved towards the light switch, turning them on, “You’re drawing in the dark?”

“It’s peaceful” Hyunjin hummed, “On set…it’s always too bright”

“Ah. Right. What are you sketching this time?” Chan moved over to him, glimpsing into his diary. 

“Just…a rough map of home. I’m writing down all the places, I wanna remember it. I don’t know when I’ll go back”

Chan smiled thoughtfully, “Is that your plan for the day?”

“No, actually, I was just about to head out to buy some flowers. I really want to draw some white hydrangeas, they won’t be in bloom for longer, and I’m hoping I can capture their whole life cycle”

Chan laughed, “Wow. It’s only six am and you’re already talking romance”

Hyunjin flushed, “It’s just for my drawings. I want to get better at observation. Speaking of, can I come watch you in the gym later? I…think I’ll draw you next”

Chan moved around the island, prepping a morning smoothie, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Jinnie”

“Of course not” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, continuing to add details to his little map, right now he was adding the 7/11 between your house and Aera’s. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be possible Jinnie. And…you’re probably gonna have to get the flowers tomorrow” Chan suddenly said, filling up the blender with ingredients.

Hyunjin frowned, “What do you mean?” But of course, Chan turned the blender on right then, so Hyunijn had to wait until he was done to find out. The loud whizzing sound filled the kitchen, and if the other boys weren’t up yet, they certainly would be now.

“Sorry about that” Chan apologised sheepishly, pouring the smoothie into four cups, and then eyed Hyunjin’s pajamas, “You should change into a coat, something warm. It’s chilly out”

Hyunjin tilt his head, suspicious, “Why?”

Chan slid him the smoothie, which Hyunjin hadn’t even asked for, and then grinned, “I’m kidnapping you”

“What?” He laughed, reaching for the cup anyway. He might as well start drinking healthy.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Jinnie. She’s a prodigy, she owns like a gazillion art galleries across the country, and she wants to meet you”

“Since when are you interested in art?” Hyunjin hummed, trying not to gag at the taste of the drink. It was all protein powder and whey. Chan smiled at the sight, leaning forward on the counter, “Since my best friend started drawing masterpieces, of course. Go get changed. I’ll drive us there, and if we have time before going to set, we just might be able to buy your flowers”

»»————-

The paintings in the art gallery were beautiful, and Chan was a good sport, taking just enough interest in the art that Hyunjin felt important in explaining all the techniques. They’d wandered around for a while now, eyeing every exhibition. Enough time had passed as they stood observing the room of sculptures, and Chan nudged him. He was diverting his attention to a woman with a tablet in hand as she walked around the space. The apparent prodigy. She seemed busy, pushing buttons on the tablet as she inventoried the place, a flurry of rich visitors following her around. Hyunjin had seen her before, and he asked, “Does she work in our building by any chance?”

“She certainly does. Hey, Karina!” He suddenly called out, “This is Hyunjin”

Hyunjin went wide-eyed and awkward, certainly unprepared to meet someone so important out of the blue, but Karina seemed sweet enough. Her gaze caught his, widening when she noticed them. She whispered something to her über important guests, and then walked over to them, all prim and poise. She certainly looked the part of an art gallery owner, although Hyunjin had never seen one so young before. She shot him a smile, “Ah. I’ve heard so much about you, Hyunjin”

“Oh no” Hyunjin had a funny feeling in his stomach, “What did Chan say?”

She laughed, “Nothing too bad. He showed me some of your work”

“He what?” Hyunjin cringed, “I’m sorry about that”

She laughed again, “Don’t apologise. Your work’s pretty good. Even before Chan, you were kind of hard to miss actually. Your face is plastered all across the company building”

Hyunjin cringed yet again, clasping his hands together, “I’m…sorry about that. That’s embarrassing”

She laughed, “Not at all. So…do you like the collection?”

Hyunjin looked around, nodding, “Oh. Of course! It’s beautiful. I love the exhibit, and I can’t believe you have some Monet up too. That must have been hard to get”

She tilt her head, an admiring smile on her face, “It certainly was. The job’s not easy, but I enjoy it a lot. We try to stick to contemporary work, switching up exhibits every month or so. You’re lucky you caught us during Monet. We’re having those shipped back to Paris soon”

Hyunjin nodded, hands slipping into his pockets, “Paris. Wow…”

“Actually I don’t have too much time, so I’m going to cut to the chase” She smiled, “The reason I asked Chan if I could meet you was…if you’d ever be interested, I wouldn’t be opposed to hosting an exhibition for your work”

His eyes widened, a surprised chuckle escaping him, “What? I’m literally just starting out. Experimenting…I don’t even have a specific art style yet or much original work…”

Karina shook her head as if all of that was an afterthought, “We already know it’ll be a hit. You’re very loved, especially in Seoul”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would an actual, real-life gallery ever want to exhibit his work? He barely had work to begin with! All he’d done was post a few artworks on his Instagram, and mentioned that he liked drawing in an interview, “But I’m not a professional, by any means, I just…do it because I enjoy it”

She smiled, “Precisely. It’d be nice to give new artists a voice. Sooner or later, some art gallery is going to snatch you up. I’d prefer if we were the first. There’s a lot of interest in you by the public. It’d be a loss to not display your work. If there’s anything I learnt from Kim Jieong it was—”

“Wait, you know Kim Jieong?” Hyunjin forgot his manners, interrupting her, especially in such an excitement, but he couldn’t help himself.

Karina laughed, eyes narrowing, “Are you a fan?”

“No, but my girlfr-“ Hyunjin stopped in his sentence, clearing his throat, and he could feel Chan’s gaze burn curiously into him, “Um…one of my friends is. He’s her favourite artist in the world”

“Well…I wouldn’t give him so much credit” Karina spoke, clutching the tablet tightly, “But yes, I used to intern with him earlier”

He was too straightforward, but he didn’t care, “Do you think you could help me get in touch with him? I’m sorry, I realise that’s a big favour and—”

Her expression changed, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. My relationship with Jieong…is complicated. But, if you’d really like maybe I could help you set up a meeting or something”

“Really?” His eyes lit up, and the conversation had completely sidetracked but it didn’t matter, “That would mean everything to me. Thank you”

“Of course. I can’t promise anything. This may be TMI, but he and I aren’t on the best terms. He is a wonderful artist though. I’ll give him that”

“Thank you, Karina” He smiled, genuinely. A security guard came up, tapping her on the shoulder. She nodded at him, and then looked back at Hyunjin, “I'm sorry I have to get going, there's been an incident involving a spill in the impressionist gallery …but the offer’s always up for the exhibition, by the way. Eunwoo could give you my contact details. I think you’d made a great addition to my portfolio, Hyunjin”

He smiled, but all he could focus on was that she knew Kim Jieong. Hope festered in his heart that maybe now he could finally get you the chance you deserved.

»»————-

The Hydrangeas bloomed beautifully on Hyunjin’s desk. He’d been drawing them all afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing their state change as he came home each night from work. It felt silly, but summer flowers reminded him of you. The vase needed fresh water, and he stopped sketching to go up to the kitchen and fill it up. The boys were gathered around the dining table, just about to head out to the studio, and Chan was preparing cocktails. Hyunijn switched on the water tap, absentmindedly watching the vase fill up, listening to their conversations. 

Karina still hadn’t got back to him, but he was holding onto hope. It had only been a week since their conversation after all. His days since then had been busy so he couldn't worry too much about it, occupied by schedules, he’d also managed to squeeze in time for himself now. It seemed like going back to his hometown had been genuinely helpful. It had fulfilled its purpose. He’d come back to work, feeling a new kick in energy and joie de vivre. There was hardly any sadness like before, and that's all Hyunjin could have asked for from his little vacation anyway.

Since his return, there had been some changes to the company too. He’d discovered a new library, hidden in their building, somewhere on the fourth floor, and he’d been frequenting it during his breaks. Every morning, he picked a new book to read and would fixate on it for the next week and a half. Barely any employees ever came to the library, other than HR sometimes, and it was a nice escape. He could imagine that you’d really love the library, full of nooks and crannies begging to be found and thousands of books aching to be read.

He discovered he had an affinity for poetry, and some poems never left his mind. There was one in particular by Kim Yong-Taek that occupied all the space in his head. 

눈 내리기 전에 / Before the snow falls,  한번 보고 싶습니다 / I would love to see you.

They felt real, as if they’d been written only for him, and shivers often ran up his skin as he stood reading them quietly, a deep ache in his heart at the familiarity of the words. It was crazy that something written hundreds of years ago could capture exactly what Hyunjin was feeling right now. He hoped he could make music that felt the same to others. The longing in his bones only got worse each day, and he was making a plan to fix it. Summer had been beautiful, even contending for his favourite season, but it was ending, and he would do anything to make autumn just as beautiful.

»»————-

Sleep clouded his vision, the song's melody blending with his drowsiness. It had been a week of rerecordings and they’d barely got any rest. Hyunjin tugged the headphones off, glancing at Chan through the observation window, “Was that a good take?”

Chan gave him a thumbs up through the window. His energy had been deflated too, but Hyunjin was hoping for a better response, “Are you sure? I can do another take. I think…it doesn’t sound as emotional as Jisung’s verse”

Hyunjin could only just about see Chan’s eyes, squinted over the mask he wore. The decision to cover his face was obvious; there was a little camera propped up in the studio, a way to film behind-the-scenes content for when the album finally released. Chan obviously didn’t want to be captured in this sleep-deprived state. Still, Hyunjin would have loved to see his expression, the microscopic changes in his face would tell him if he really loved the recording or not.

Chan nodded, weary eyes, “If you think you can do a better take, go for it, Hyunjin”

So he did, inhaling a breathful of air so he wouldn’t falter during his lines. He’d sounded too emotionless and mechanical and they were recording a love song. He had to pour his feelings into it, so he closed his eyes. The lyrics were embedded into his brain anyway. 

Chan began the backing track, and Hyunjin let his thoughts drift... They wandered into a familiar memory, one he usually saved for bedtime and when he was alone. His mind kept coming back to it. It was so fresh, but each day it was fading away, slipping out of his grasp and he felt the need to bottle up the memory and store it in a safe forever, where it would always be remembered. The twinkling fairy lights of the Château, the blue paint puddle on the floor, the paint you spilled on his shirt, the heated and frenzied first, second…and third kisses. The moment had been so short-lived. He had been so vulnerable that night. You’d seen him that night, truly seen him, and he still felt surprised at how much he’d divulged in you so easily. It was the realest he’d ever felt, like the rest of his life before and after was just a charade for his friends, for the cameras, for himself.

Maybe it was only with you that he was the real Hyunjin. The teasing and laughs over the chocolate strawberries and paint easels had been second nature and strangely familiar, like it wasn’t your first time doing this together, as if you had both been falling into patterns and habits of centuries ago. The most innocent actions felt crude, and cruel. Crude to kiss your cheek but not take it further. Cruel to give in to a desire he could never fulfil. Maybe every other moment in his life had been fabricated except for that night, that would explain why he was the happiest then. 

“Shit…what was that?” A voice interrupted him. Hyunjin snapped open his eyes to see Chan staring at him in disbelief. The backing track had gone onto the next verse now. He cleared his throat, “Um. Sorry I….spaced out. Let me record that again”

“Are you kidding me? That’s the best take you’ve ever given us” Chan laughed, in disbelief, stepping into the recording booth, “You sold that to me completely, Fuck. You almost made me tear up. You should do more ballads, Jinnie. That was amazing”

Hyunjin blinked at him, holding onto his headphones tightly, so unaware of himself, “I…I didn’t realise it was that good”

“Come on. Listen to it” Chan grabbed his arm, leading him out, and replaying what had just been recorded. Hyunjin almost didn’t recognise himself singing. He’d never sang like this before. Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck, and he looked at Chan, “You’re right. That one turned out…really good”

“Damn. You can convince the audience that you’ve lived a thousand lives, been through a hundred heartbreaks. You convinced me. That was so real”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, and he pushed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “It felt real to me too”

Chan wrapped up the recording, and then happily turned the company camera off, “Do you know what this means, Jinnie?”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, grateful they weren’t being recorded anymore. 

Chan stepped closer to him, a growing smile on his face, “We fucking finished this album, baby”

»»————-

Hyunjin was changing the water in the vase. He’d been desperately trying to keep the Hydrangeas alive, but that had been a failing task. So he’d found some time to buy some Cosmos, hoping he could draw them instead. It was almost autumn now, and the flower in bloom had changed, so he kept trying to adjust to it. It was harder than he thought. Chan's voice distracted him, “Are you coming to dinner with us? We’re thinking of trying that new Italian place”. Hyunjin looked up at him, “Shit. Is it okay if I bail? I was going to call Y/N later tonight. She wanted to paint together”

His eyebrows shot up, a small smile on his face, “Paint together? Is that a euphemism?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, switching the water tap off, “No. It's obviously not”

“Wouldn’t you love if it was?” Jisung smirked at him, walking into the kitchen. It seemed like all their serious, and unserious conversations often took place in this kitchen, their one common space. Chan laughed, “So how long will your paint date last? Should we bring you any takeout pizza?”

Hyunjin shrugged, glancing at the clock, “No, that’s okay, I’m not hungry. It’ll last a few hours maybe. Next week we’re going to be so busy with the press tour, I was hoping to finish a whole painting tonight. It’s easier if I’m doing it with her. I’m just more motivated then”

“There’s a word for that, you know?” Chan leaned forward on the counter, a teasing smile on his face, “She’s your proper muse”

Hyunjin laughed, not expecting him to say that, but he had been thinking about it. After all, that’s what had made the recordings so much easier. He was singing with you in mind. He denied it, “That’s really cheesy, even for you, Chan…”

“Eh, but it’s true. You should tell her that tonight”

Hyunjin smiled, already imagining your reaction to such a thing. He wouldn’t even know how he’d bring it up. Wouldn’t it be too much? Would you be embarrassed? He could recall all the times he’d catch you off guard with his compliments back in Daejon, your expression as if he’d said the most insane thing ever when Hyunjin was just appreciating you. Fuck. He really needed to see that reaction in person again. 

Every perfect summer memory only added to the weight of his longing in fall, and he decided it was time, “I’m gonna invite her to come to Seoul”

Changbin stood across the hall, having just come out of his room to catch the last bit of conversation. His eyebrows shot up, “You are…?”

Hyunjin swallowed, catching the boys' reactions as he revealed the plan, “I just bought the train tickets for her this morning, and while she's here she can stay in an apartment I rented out for her. It’s a few blocks away from ours, so she’s close enough to me, without it being suspicious”

Jisung frowned, “But if you rented it, your name would go down in the record”

“No, I already thought of that. I asked to use my aunt’s credit card, and she’s not a Hwang, so there won’t be any trace back to me”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, “You really thought of everything, huh? No loopholes?”

“No loopholes” Hyunjin nodded, hoping they’d approve of it because something like this would put them all under scrutiny and risk, “Well, as long as she says yes”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms, “If I was her, I’d jump at the chance”

“Yeah, I know you would. There’s an apprenticeship she wanted in the city…but she didn’t get it yet. She may not want to come here anymore…in case it reminds her of that”

“Is there any chance she can still get it?”

Hyunjin shrugged, placing his palms on the counter as he thought over it, “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to figure it out”

Chan sighed, seeing his dilemma, “Hey, if it’s in the stars…she’ll get it. She seems talented enough from what you tell me about her”

“She’s hellbent on believing she can’t get it. I’m going to try to convince her to apply again. It’s kind of frustrating. Without connections, it’s so hard to make anything out of it. I mean, when we were at the gallery, you introduced me to Karina. It was so easy. She saw my work, and immediately agreed to a fucking exhibition. Sometimes it feels kind of unfair. What did I do to deserve that? I know there are hundreds of artists better than me who should be getting exhibitions, but…I’m getting it just because I’m famous. It feels weird and privileged”

Chan sighed, “Hyun…I know what you mean, but…it’s unfortunately how things are. And it’s not like you’re misusing this. The fact that you recognise it in the first place is sometimes all we can do”

Hyunjin let out an exhale, staring off into the distance, when his phone pinged. It was a text from you.

hey! im all set up here. ready when you are :)

Chan grinned, handing him a cocktail he’d just made, “Go on then. We’ll head to dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Hyunjin smiled, rushing back to his room. In anticipation of this call, he’d already set up his work area. Ever since he’d been back, he hadn’t gotten too much time talking to you, so he would make the most of it. He set his glass down next to his MacBook, and laid out his canvas. Through the computer screen, he could see a glimpse of your room, which was messier than his. It had more personality, and it was more lived in. He realised he’d never had a chance to come to your place. He had a sudden urge to see how you set up your room and things, your little knick-knacks, the big teddy he won for you, your artwork curated over years. But from hundreds of miles of away, he could only see a little square of your life. You were biting down on a chip when he spoke, “I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan”

Your face changed, lighting up, “Yeah?” 

The connection wasn’t great, so all your responses were delayed, but Hyunjin hummed, proud, “It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”

“When can I hear it?” 

He laughed at your eagerness, “We’re still writing it”

You nodded, going back to painting. He would surprise you soon with the ticket he bought you to Seoul, but he wanted to build up to it. Perhaps he could do a grand gesture, or leave you little hints to keep you wondering. He could only imagine how happy you’d be. He could show you his favourite places in the city, introduce you to the boys and you could finally see his life, in all it’s glory. It only felt fair after you’d let him into yours so warmly. He had fit into your life in town so easily, a puzzle piece falling into place, and he hoped he could make it the same for you. Obviously, there’d be less freedom, more restrictions but at least you wouldn’t be a stranger to his lifestyle anymore. Hyunjin took a moment to sip his drink, staring at his own work. getting the courage to say it, “Can I say something cheesy?”

“Yeah?”

He leaned over the webcam, so he could be infinitesimally closer to you, cheeks reddening, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”

He watched as you sat on your knees, curious, “What do you think about?”

He flushed, regretting how this made him sound so romantic when he wasn't trying to be, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”

He saw your eyes widen, and a deep emotion overwhelmed you. He didn’t see you react more, and he wondered what this meant to you, what he meant to you right now, even so far away. You didn't say anything back. You must be holding it all in, just like him. Maybe you didn’t know how to put your thoughts into words. He couldn't blame you. Even after reading all the poems in the world, Hyunjin didn’t have the words either. Not enough anyway.

»»————-

It was supposed to be an informal gathering to celebrate the album, but it felt more like a full-fledged party. Their manager’s apartment had been completely transformed, no empty floor space as everybody from the company had gathered around for a hurrah. Hyunjin had a few drinks in his system already, enough to get him really going. He stood away from the crowd, tucked into a corner, phone pulled out, typing in a ridiculously cheesy message to you. The party was great, and he was so happy to have finished the album. All that was missing was you. The text started sounding far too cheesy, inspired by the love rot that the poetry books had filled in his brain, and slowly, it became more and more unhinged. The wine Chan brought must have got to his head, but he couldn't stop, all of his thoughts pouring out in a mixture of sentences that didn't really make any sense.

I want you here with me at this party. Fuck, it’s so dull without you. If you were here, we could just sneak off and…I would kiss you. Positively. My manager is here, the scary one, but he doesn’t have to know. Earlier, I was reading a book and there was an English word in it that reminded me of you. Saudade. I looked it up because I was so curious and it said it’s a state of melancholy for a beloved someone or something. I think that explains this ridiculous feeling I have when I think of you. I have it even when I’m not thinking of you. Like last week, when we were recording this one song. It’s like you’re here with me in everything. I guess what I’m saying is, I just want to kiss you really really badly and fuck I’m really drunk so I’m sorry for how this may sound but I just really need to feel you—

The phone was snatched from his hands, Changbin squinting to read the message, “Who are you texting in the middle of our party?”

Hyunjin flushed red. He was really drunk but he still noticed their manager to the side, and hushed, “Keep your voice down, Binnie”

He looked up, eyes wide, “Is this your idea of a sext?”

“What? no— it’s not a sext. I’m not sexting, what the hell”

“You’re like…weirdly poetic when you’re drunk”

Hyunjin closed his eyes, “Just…give me that”

He deleted the message. 

It was a bad idea to be sending you drunk messages anyway. He should just call you instead. Yeah. That sounded like a smarter, much better idea. Before he could dial your number, Changbin pulled him to the living room, and Hyunjin let himself be tugged along. Jisung was standing shirtless there, liquid smeared down his chest and abs. He was laughing, hair all messed up, clearly very tipsy, “Come on! Who’s next?”

Hyunjin did not intend to be a part of whatever this was, but Changbin pushed him ahead, “He’s up” But they were surrounded by company employees. Even the girl from the art gallery, Karina, was here and he flushed from the embarrassment. “I don’t even know what we’re doing” Hyunjin chuckled nervously, as Changbin hoisted him up over the table, handing him a quick shot to get the nerves out. Hyunjin downed it in a single sip, the liquid burning his throat. The state of his sobriety stopped him from protesting too much, until Jisung explained, “Body shots, of course. Pick your contender, Jinnie”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, looking around the bunch of people, none of whom he felt comfortable touching him, but he saw a few of the women shy away, “I…I don’t know”

“I’ll do it” Chan laughed, stepping ahead from the crowd, “If that’s okay with you”

Jisung certainly seemed to have enjoyed it, and he wanted to give it a shot. He could be chill with this, but he would definitely blame the alcohol in him for how easily he went down on the table, and how easily he let Chan unbutton his black shirt. The overhead lights were too bright and Hyunjin closed his eyes, and his head was spinning. The music was pounding in his ears, the marble countertop cold to his back.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this” He laughed to himself, swept up in the environment as Changbin dripped tequila over his stomach. The chill liquid tickled him and he immediately squirmed, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt embarrassed for his reaction. Clearly, he was a novice to this party celebration, but he was also enjoying the attention.

“You ready, Jinnie?” Chan asked, looking up at him with a comforting smile. Chan was definitely drunk too in order to pull a stunt like this in front of the employees. They were absolutely loving it though and he could hear them all cheer them on. They never got to see the members in a more unprofessional environment than this one, and Hyunjin hoped none of them changed their opinion of him after this. He gave a quick thumbs up, facing the ceiling as he felt Chan’s mouth near his stomach. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, cheeks flushing from all this attention. He was used to people’s eyes on him, but this was so different and intimate. Somehow, his self-conscious part disappeared just as Chan licked a stripe of tequila up Hyunjin’s torso. He squirmed, a giggle escaping at the ticklish feeling, and Chan held him down, hand on his thigh, laughing, “Stop moving! You’ll get it on the table!”

Hyunjin stilled with the threat of ruining their manager’s table, eyes still closed as Chan finished licking the rest up until his chest, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t help but imagine this situation differently. Would you have partaken in this with him? How would that have looked like? If it was you doing this to him, instead of Chan? The little party activity would definitely have turned into something else by the end of it…and he knows he definitely would not be able to resist, not when your tongue was on his stomach and you were so close to him. The image sent a rush of blood through his body, thoughts that he should definitely not be indulging in when his best friend was doing body shots off him, and Hyunjin immediately sat up, bumping his head right into Chan’s. “Ouch!” Chan exclaimed, clutching his forehead, “Careful, Jin!”

“Um, sorry” He swallowed, jumping off the counter, embarrassment lingering from how he'd stupidly turned himself on in front of everyone he knew, “I felt sick”

“No worries” Chan laughed, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, patting his shoulder as everybody around them continued cheering them on, “You did good”

Hyunjin walked away, feeling sticky now, and he tried to wipe off the remaining with a kitchen towel. If it was you, he would have let you go all the way, until every stripe of tequila was gone from his body. And then some more.

He buttoned his shirt up again, hands shaking from the buzz, blood rushing to the parts that needed his attention. He needed to hear your voice. You didn’t even know he was at this party. It was so inconvenient to be so far away, trying to convey all that he felt through a mere text or phone call. He stood to the side, shaky fingers pulling up your contact until he heard your voice on the other end. “Guess what?” Hyunjin grinned.

“What?” Your voice was soft on the other end, so calm, grounding him in his drunkenness. A stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of his party and he could think straight again. Hyunjin smiled, “We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready. We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”

He felt excited to hear your reaction. He was grinning ear to ear, as you congratulated him. He’d heard that today many times, but hearing it from you was incomparable. You were proud of him. He giggled, stumbling out of the hallway, blood rushing to his head, “Jisung made me drink…far too much. I liked the wine, though; Chan found it in this cool store, but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of —” 

“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him.

Hyunjin nodded, walking around, trying to avoid anybody being able to pick up on his conversation. So many people were in this tiny apartment, and he wished he had more peace and quiet to talk to you. “It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”

“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke.

“Sorry” He apologised, walking off towards the balcony, “Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, I can”

“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He mumbled, voice dropping, and the rest of this party was fading from his vision, tunnel vision to you and your voice on the other end, “Why aren’t you here?”

Hyunjin thinks the only way he can stop missing you is if you start visiting him in your dreams. He wonders what sorcery he needs to do for that to happen. Could he visit you in your dreams? So you never grow apart, and find each other every single night. “I miss you too….but you should get back to the party—”

Hyunjin failed to notice Changbin creeping up on him, taking the phone away, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?”

“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin sighed, all his poetic declarations disappearing into the void. At this point, he thinks he needs to maintain another diary just to write all the things he wishes to say to you but never does.

“Hey!” Changbin was talking to you, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”

“Stop!” Hyunjin exclaimed, realising their managers stood nearby and the commotion had caught their ears, “Don’t announce it to the entire party.” Changbin laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”

“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin tried to grab it.

“Let me finish!” Changbin laughed. Hyunjin’s head began to ache when he saw Jisung approach their chaos, “Fuck. Is that her?”

“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” He sounded like a broken record, like all his primary functions had ceased and wouldn’t function until he heard your voice again. “Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?” Jisung asked, loudly. It was loud enough that their managers heard it, ears perking up and glancing at Hyunjin. One of their managers, Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. This was the first he’d heard of this, and goosebumps rippled up Hyunjin’s neck at what this could mean.

His voice dropped, stepping back towards his meddling friends, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”

“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted, oblivious to his surroundings. Hyunjin yanked the phone back, and he was pissed, but he wouldn’t blame them. They were only messing about. He let out a breath, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”

Your voice sounded far away, resigned, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You should enjoy the party, Hyun” Panic built up in his throat at the thought of you leaving, “No, no, I called you because I missed you”

“I can’t really even hear you,” You said, crushing his heart and soul to irreparable pieces. Maybe he was being dramatic, but perhaps he needed you to breathe, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”

Hyunjin was ready to protest, bear his heart out to keep you a little while longer. What was the point of celebrating his success if he couldn't share it with you right now? Isn't that why he'd pushed himself so hard this time? So he could impress you with all the songs he'd written with only you in mind. He’d leave the party if he had to, just so you wouldn’t go. Before he could declare his insanity of wanting to talk to you, Eunwoo stepped closer to him. His eyes were narrowed, a tell-tale sign, disapproving head tilt. Hyunjin had lost the opportunity, and he said, “All right. I’ll call you later”

With no qualms about destroying the party's vibe, Eunwoo asked curiously, “Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody” Hyunjin panicked, hanging up. He shoved the phone into his pocket, and it burned into him. Eunwoo sighed, “I heard Jisung mention a girlfriend. Is there something you want to share?”

He shook his head, unease settling into him or maybe he was just about to throw the fuck up, “Can we…not talk about this right now? I mean, we’re at a party”

Eunwoo stared at him, as if dissecting all of Hyunjin's deepest, darkest secrets, gaze burning through him. Then he nodded with a smile, “Of course, Hyunjin. You should celebrate”

Hyunjin’s nerves calmed down and he began walking away. Maybe now he could return to enjoying the rest of the night.  But of course, Eunwoo stopped him, hand over his shoulder “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning though. I want to see you seven AM, in my office”

Hyunjin suppressed a groan, bile rising up his throat at what this could possibly mean, “Oh. Okay”

Eunwoo patted his shoulder, before walking back to the party, “Don’t be late, Hwang”

»»————-

He definitely didn’t feel human stepping into the office, a mere three hours later. He hadn’t got any sleep. He had just enough time to head home, shower, and wipe the remnants of tequila off his stomach before heading here. The body shots didn’t sound like a great idea now. His shirt was sticky and ruined. His head hurt, and he was surprised that Eunwoo wasn’t hungover. He’d probably gouged on hangover soup last night, and he sat in a crisp suit-and-tie across the table. He looked up at him, cheery smile, “Morning, Hwang”

Hyunjin sat in the uncomfortable office chair, squinting against the lights that hurt his sensitive eyes, “Good morning…”

“Did you have a good time at the party last night?”

Hyunjin nodded, putting on a smile, “Yes. It was nice”

Eunwoo was their nicest manager, he’s the only reason Hyunjin had been able to go back home and he certainly liked him the most. He was miles better than Kim Soohyun, the guy who basically decided Hyunjin’s life. But now…it seemed like Eunwoo had been sent by his higher-ups to sweet-talk Hyunjin, “You certainly seemed to enjoy it, but sadly, I didn’t see too much of you. We would have liked to get a drink with you”

“Ah, I was with the boys most of the night” He answered. Could this meeting not have been an email? His head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything.

Eunwoo tilt his head, picking up on his irritation, “Say it. Whatever’s on your mind”

“No disrespect. I…just don’t understand why we need to talk about this right now”

“Why? Because it’s a Sunday and most people don’t have to go to work today, or because you drank too much last night?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hands and Eunwoo kept tossing it back and forth. 

Hyunjin bit his lip, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired”

“Because it may be a day off for everyone in the country, but not for you. I’m sure you’re aware of that. After all, superstars don’t get to where they are by slacking off”

Hyunjin frowned, “I understand. Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me today?”

Eunwoo put down the stress ball in his hands, expression suddenly turning serious, “Look, kid. If I could turn a blind eye to this, I would. Trust me. I hate doing this as much as you hate hearing it, but Kim Soohyun was at the party too. He overheard things. I’m accountable to him, and you’re accountable to me”

Hyunjin sank into his seat, “So…am I in trouble or something?”

Eunwoo clasped his hands, “Depends…did you do something to get you into trouble?”

“No, I didn’t, Eunwoo”

He leaned forward on the desk, hands folded under his chin, “There was quite a lot of talk about a girlfriend last night. You never mentioned that to me”

Hyunjin let out a sigh, “There’s no girlfriend. The boys were dicking around”

Eunwoo gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Then, who were you talking to? On the phone when I saw you? Surely your parents wouldn't be awake that late”

“Just…a friend from back home. They’re not important”

“Look, Hyunjin. I hate to pry. Your personal life is entirely yours but not when it concerns your image or the company, or god forbid, the media. If you are dating somebody, you have to let me know so I can be prepared for when it eventually gets out to the media”

Hyunjin’s head began to hurt exponentially more and maybe he should never have called you last night, “I’m not dating anybody, Eunwoo”

Eunwoo nodded. Clearly, he didn’t believe him. He’d known and managed Hyunjin for years. He'd known him since he was fifteen. He could see right through him and wished he was a better liar. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that”

Hyunjin sighed, sitting up straighter as if that could convince him better, “She’s just an old friend, from back home”

Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back in his chair, “Okay, I’ll believe you. I hope you’ve already passed along the contract to her”

He frowned, “What, the NDA? I’m not dating her, why does she have to sign it?”

“Well yes, you’re not, but clearly you and her are close if you’re drunk calling her from a work party. She could have the wrong idea, if she goes around telling people a different story…that’ll be a problem”

“She is not going to tell anyone”

“You don’t know what girls can be capable of to get fame. An argument with you, if someone bribes her, if she sees any opportunity, she could go to the media—”

“Y/N is not like that” Hyunjin interrupted, a surge of bitterness ripping through at the assumptions.

Eunwoo’s eyebrows shot up, “Y/N…that’s her name”

He wished he could take back that information. It was too late. He released a breath, “Look, you’re not making her sign any contracts. We’re not romantically involved. There are no legal obligations. Am I not even allowed to have fucking friends anymore?”

Eunwoo closed his eyes, “Don’t get angry on me, Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. This is how it’s been for years. The rules won’t change for you. It’s going to be difficult to manage these rumors after you already took half a year off to yourself and with Jisung’s trial and Chan and Kairi’s…whatever the hell they’re doing. You say you’re not dating this girl, I’m going to trust you on that. But if at any point that changes or the girl goes to the news, the company will have to step in. For example, she talks to somebody about her…special friendship with you. Kim Soohyun won’t think twice before suing her for defamation”

Hyunjin saw red, and he clenched his fists as to not react. Defamation? “I get it, Eunwoo”

He nodded, putting a document on the table and sliding it to him, “If anything changes, you have to let me know. I have to be ready to release a statement”

“What, a statement…for what?” Hyunjin stared at the files. An NDA and a press release statement. This was absolutely insane. Nothing had even happened, and they were preparing for the worst case scenario. No, they were waiting for it. 

“You’ve been in this industry long enough, Hwang. We must inform the public and fanbase…if you’re in a relationship. If we keep it to ourselves and it gets out anyway, the backlash would be immense. Now, don’t worry. We can always try to keep her identity secret if you’re worried about her safety and with threats and everything, but—”

Hyunjin stood up in panic, blood rushing to his head, “That’s not happening. There’s not gonna be any threats to her…or announcements”

Eunwoo looked up at him, blinking blankly, “Okay… I appreciate the sentiment but that’s not entirely in your hands. The press tour starts today. All eyes are going to be on the four of you. The whole damn country is talking about you, Hyunjin. We can’t afford a scandal. Kim Soohyun has me in a tight grip. I have faith in you that nothing happens to throw that off”

He swallowed, nails digging into his palm from his emotions, “Yeah. It won’t”

Clearly, his plans of bringing you to the city to visit him were down the fucking drain. He’d be lucky if he could even get a phone call with you anymore. 

“Also if you’re using the company phone to stay in contact with her, I suggest you change that. It shouldn’t be traced back to us”

Hyunjin nodded, and he wasn’t even dating you but the worst was already happening. This was what he’d feared the whole time. There was no point. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he asked, “Is that going to be all?”

Eunwoo nodded, “You should take these documents with you, just in case. HR were happy to print them out for me this morning. They also told me you’ve been hanging out in the romance section a lot in the company library”

So he had absolutely no privacy anymore either. Hyunjin snatched the folder, carelessly holding the files in his hand, with no intention of ever using them. He wouldn’t let the press statement or NDA document anywhere near you. In fact, they’d be tossed in the trash as soon as he was home. He headed for the door and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He needed to decompress. He couldn’t show up to practice this pissed and this wound up. He’d explode, and the boys didn’t deserve that. 

Eunwoo’s voice stopped him, “Oh, and congratulations, Hyunjin”

Hyunjin turned around, gripping the doorknob in blind fury. It felt like a taunt, a joke. There was nothing to congratulate him for. He couldn’t even keep his friends close without it exploding into a big deal. What did he even have to be grateful for? He looked right at Eunwoo, and his lack of sleep made him more irritable, “For…what?”

Eunwoo smiled warmly, his entire demeanour changing, “The album pre-sales are the biggest we’ve ever seen. You’re a global superstar now. You should feel very, very lucky, kid"

»»————-

“Can you stand still for me, please?” The assistant responsible for touching up Hyunjin’s face asked. He nodded, letting her put rosy tint on his cheeks, blending it with the contour. He’d been here for what easily felt like hours, and through the mirror he could see that Changbin was just about done with his makeup. 

The week leading up to the release was always the hardest. Somebody tugged at his hair and he resisted the urge to grimace. They didn’t deserve his terrible mood; they were only doing their job. The hairstylist apologised, noticing Hyunjin’s sour expression, “Sorry. Eunwoo said we need to get started on your hair right now; the other boys are already ready.” Hyunjin nodded, letting himself be manhandled by three different women as they struggled to put his hair into braids, “Have you been using the product we gave you?”

“Hmm?”

“Your hair’s thinning out, especially the bleached roots” The lady mumbled, disappointed.

“Yeah, I have” Truthfully he’d forgotten, a grave mistake for someone in his industry, but he’d been too caught up in everything else. His stomach rumbled and he hadn’t had time to grab breakfast this morning, so he looked around until he spotted one of their assistants, “Rowoon, could you please get me some honey butter chips—”

“Stay still, please” The makeup assistant repeated. Hyunjin straightened up, speaking through his teeth, “…or ramyeon?”

Rowoon looked at him through the mirror, eyebrows shooting up, “Um. Are you sure? You have a pre-recording tomorrow”

“I…haven’t eaten since last night” Hyunjin replied.

“Last time you ate it…your face got pretty swollen, and you were pretty beat up about not looking great in the music show” Rowoon said, grimly smiling.

Hyunjin nodded, gut hurting at that memory of his swollen face, “Right. Never mind. Forget it. Thank you”

“How long are we filming for today?” Jisung asked, adjusting his headset in the back. Rowoon looked between them, “Well, you guys are booked until 4 PM”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at his phone. 6:43 am. Fuck.

Changbin walked by, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder, slipping toffees into his palm, “That’ll fill you up before the interviews”. The candy looked less than appetising, but it was his only option, and he reached to eat some, just as the lady stopped him to apply lip tint to his mouth. Today was going to be a long fucking day.

They were almost done with his hair, braiding it at the top of his head, secured with glitter barrettes. It was an elaborate hairstyle, and he feared he’d ruin it if he moved. It was like walking on eggshells, like his slightest touch would crumble things. Well, everything already seemed to be crumbling. Hyunjin hadn’t been in the best of moods since his talk with Eunwoo, and the possibilities of how everything could go wrong loomed over him. The worst he’d feared for was already happening, things set in motion and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it from worsening. The company knew your name. They knew of your existence. They’d already restricted him. There’s no way in hell Hyunjin would be able to bring you to Seoul, much less meet you in this city without a hundred documents or cameras being thrown at you. Slowly, all his happiness that had been built up carefully and precisely, was turning into bitterness.

“Have you seen Chan?” Rowoon asked, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Hyunjin shook his head. He’d been sitting on this chair for forty five minutes straight. How the hell would he know where Chan was? The hunger and frustration was getting to him, and he shook his head, calming himself down.

“May I go now?” He looked up at the hair assistant.

She nodded, “Just no quick movements. The hairspray is still settling in”

Now that he could properly look at himself, it looked good. Having longer hair always set him at the mercy of experimentation for new styles, and often crazy accessories. He smiled at them, pushing the chair back to stand, “Of course. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s beautiful”

In other circumstances, he’d snap a picture and send you, but…he’d been on eggshells with you too. Inadvertently, the conversation with Eunwoo had created distance. Hyunjin hated that because none of this was your fault. You shouldn’t be subject to this silence from him, but he was constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid that he’d be caught and it was getting tiring. His carelessness at the party had led to this. He wanted to fully blame himself for not having any self-control when he drunk called you. Yet, a part of him knew that even without the doomed phone call, somehow everybody would have found out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Things never stayed stable for too long in his life.

He walked into the hallway, hoping to find an empty room. There were usually a few reserved for stage props. He could have a few moments to himself, just to talk to you. That could calm him down, and he could apologise for his distance. He didn’t know how he’d begin to explain what was happening to you. To anybody else, it’d seem like he was pushing you away and he hoped you understood that it was never his intention.

A door was ajar, sliver of light leaking out into the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, familiar voices inside. He didn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were so loud, “What do you want me to say? I’m doing absolutely everything I can! Jisung’s trial is already—”

“Don’t bring Jisung into this…” Kairi’s exasperated voice interrupted, “What’s going on with him is different. You always do this, Chris! Why are you making this your problem?”

“I’m sorry? They’re my bandmates. They’re my friends. Of course I’m going to take their burden!”

“Jisung is an adult, he’s perfectly capable of—“

“I made a promise to all of them, Kairi. I’m not jumping ship when they need me the most” Chan sounded so frustrated.

She groaned, “I’m not asking you to jump ship. But Chris you haven’t slept in three fucking days! You’re…barely eating. This is not living”

Hyunjin didn’t know that, and his blood ran cold at the information as Chan replied, “This isn’t your problem Kairi. It’s…my problem to deal with. I have to make sacrifices—”

“I had to quit my job because of you, Chris!” She trailed off, Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and he flinched at the aggressive tone. He wasn’t new to their arguments, especially over the last month, but none were like this. This felt like the culmination of something that had been building for months, even years. Kairi was always so sweet, and her volume returned to normal, “I mean…I had to quit because of us. I made sacrifices too. So yes, it is my problem”

Chan’s voice dropped, “Well, I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me”

“That’s what people do when they love each other. I’m sorry but that’s just a reality you’re going to have to accept Chris”

“Do we…have to talk about this now? The interviews start soon, and I can’t focus on them—” 

“I’m so worried about you, Channie. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the morning”

Chan groaned, “I don’t know either, but I have to do it for the boys. I can’t…let them down”

Hyunjin’s chest ached now, a different kind of pain settling in. Why were they all making sacrifices for each other? They were only in their twenties, pushing for their dreams; this instability shouldn’t be normal.

Kairi sighed, “See, that’s exactly the problem. Why do you always take the blame for everything? Even when Hyunjin was gone, you made it your mission to do damage control for him. Not everything has to be your burden”

At the mention of his name, he really should walk away and learn to mind his own business, but he couldn’t help but overhear, feet rooted to the floor as Chan’s voice softened with a new desperation and frustration, “They mean everything to me. You know that”

“They do to me too, Chris. I know this is a horrible time”

“Hyunjin?” He heard Jisung’s voice call for him in the hallway. He needed to head back. An entire press and interview team was waiting for them, only a few rooms over and if he listened any further, he’d be in no state of mind to answer questions. But of course as he stepped away, he picked up on the last bit of conversation, “Did you know HR gave Hyunjin the papers?” Chan laughed bitterly, “They’re already prepared for the worst”

Kairi sighed, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved closer to Chan. Only dread filled his stomach as he heard the next sentence out of her mouth, “That’s their job. You have to not make it your problem this time, Chan, I’m…so worried about your health. And that’s Hyunjin’s responsibility. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing her. It was bound to happen. It always does.”

Hyunjin didn’t stick around to hear Chan’s response.

He had heard enough.

»»————-

“Hyun, can I come see you?”

The question was expected, but Hyunjin was shocked when you said it anyway. He froze, choking at his words. A few days ago, he would have been overjoyed at this. After all, he’d already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements for you to come see him, but…things had changed. It was too risky. He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his conversation with Eunwoo. What was the point after all? Hyunjin let out an awkward fucking chuckle, “W-what?”

“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help.” Your voice was far away, drenched in longing.

It wasn’t out of nowhere, it was only what Hyunjin had been planning since forever. But nothing went to his fucking plans, “I…I’m not sure, Y/N”

Your voice deflated, disappointed, “Yeah?”

His heart broke, but it had become increasingly clear that it would be the dumbest idea ever to have you come visit. If anybody saw them…if anything got out…he wasn’t prepared to deal with that, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…”

“Yeah. I understand” Of course you understood, no matter how shitty Hyunjin kept behaving. For once, he wished you’d actually yell at him.

“I’m sorry” He swallowed, and he could feel the life being sucked out of him.

Your response was sweet as usual, “It’s okay. It’s bad timing”

“It’s bad timing” He repeated, and Hyunjin suddenly had a horrible feeling that maybe this was the last straw. Things had slipped out of his control. Soon, eventually, you would too.

»»————-

The seasons were changing, but flowers bloomed all year long in Seoul, and so Hyunjin had prepared early. He’d bought the Camellia seeds so he could grow winter flowers on his own, and see their life unfold before his eyes. Even if everything else seemed to be falling apart, at least he could try to be consistent and paint his feelings away. The yellow falling leaves and orange tree cover taken over the city inspired his many paintings. Usually, you’d send him pictures of every little detail from back home, especially of changing landscapes and beautiful natural sights of town, but you hadn't shared anything the past week. He wondered what autumn would look like in Daejon. Now that his conversations with you were thinning out, he had an irrational fear that he’d never find out. 

“Everything okay?”

“Sorry?” Hyunjin snapped out of it, and Changbin looked at him, concerned. “You’re in your head again. Is something bothering you?”

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “No, I’m good”

Changbin clearly wasn’t convinced, because his expression softened, and he reached a hand out, “Hey, why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll bring the Americano out to you”

But he was so past being taken care of or worried about. So Hyunjin shook his head. The idea of waiting in the car sounded absolutely horrible right now. He needed fresh air, and he was perfectly capable of getting his own cup of coffee.

“No, I got this. Why don’t you let me get this for us?” Hyunjin asked, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. It was getting colder by the day, and even in this temperature-controlled cafe, he was cold to the bone. Changbin grinned, shooting him a cheesy wink, “Well, I’ll never say no to being treated by you”

A smile tugged at Hyunjin’s lips. Changbin could find the brevity in each situation. Hyunjin walked up to the cashier, placing an order for their usual. “Could I have two coffees, black, please?” He asked. The cashier, a girl probably in her 20s, smiled wide at Hyunjin, “Is that all?”

He glanced at the pastry counter, and everything looked so appetising. Yet he was on a diet and couldn’t afford to do this. Everybody would be so disappointed in him, “No, that’s all”

“Sorry, but do…I know you?” She asked, punching in his order. Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he thought he’d concealed his identity enough with the hat, but clearly the rest of his expensive outfit was a dead give-away that was he was some big shot. They had another schedule after this, so they were dressed up and he was draped head-to-toe in luxury items, “Um. I just have one of those faces, I guess”

The girl didn’t look convinced, “Right…I’ll have your coffee out in a few minutes”

He stepped aside, joining his friend to the side. Changbin had a huge grin on his face still and Hyunjin was thankful to have his positivity surround him, “That chick was totally flirting with you”

“What?” Hyunjin shook his head, pushing the receipt in his coat pocket, “She barely said two words. You think everyone’s flirting with me”

“Well, why are her and all her friends giggling and looking at you?” Changbin rolled his eyes. Hyunijn looked back, and sure enough, the cashier and her coworkers were looking at him. Maybe they shouldn’t have come in here today. It was too close to the comeback. He shook that thought from his head. He was desperate for coffee.

“Excuse me, sir? Your coffee is ready” The girl said, and Hyunjin stepped back up. She was smiling, flushing red under her uniform cap, and as she handed them the cups he noticed a piece of paper stuck to it. Changbin glanced at it, eyes widening as they stepped away, “Is that her number?”

“I don’t know” Hyunjin mumbled, unfurling the paper. This definitely was the most romantic way he’d been asked out. It was her Instagram handle, and a note was stuck to it, Hope you liked the coffee, handsome. Maybe we could get a stronger drink later tonight? 

“Wow” Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he pushed the note into his pocket too. It’d be thrown away later, “That’s…certainly a bold move”

“Please tell me you’re going on that date”

Hyunjin shook his head, amused at how light-hearted dates and budding love could be for Changbin, “I…have plans”

“What plans? You’re a recluse”

“I was going to talk to Y/N tonight—” He trailed off, eyes landing on someone familiar in the crowd. Hyunjin’s breath hitched.

It was a while since he’d seen her. Years, at this point.

She was sat at a far table, laughing over a cup of coffee and croissants. She seemed better than she had in years. Happier than she’d ever been around Hyunjin. Right now, she was glowing. The cause of her happiness seemed to be a boy sitting across her. A guy dressed in flannel and suit pants, chunky glasses on his face. Hyunjin couldn’t look away as the boy leaned forward, kissing her cheek quickly. She smiled, and then the cashier called out, “Coffee for Yujin”

She kissed the boy before standing up. She walked towards them, and Hyunjin was still standing stupidly at the counter. She noticed him, eyes widening, coming to a stop. Almost instantly, the life drained from her face. 

A stark difference from a moment ago, when she was so happy. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do; he raised a hand; a small, non-threatening wave. Things between them had ended in peace, after all. Yujin’s face traversed many expressions before she settled on a calm look, “Hyunjin. Wow…hi. This…is such a surprise. Hello…Changbin”

Hyunjin nodded, hoping this interaction wasn’t being watched, “It’s…been a while, Yujin”

She was still beautiful, smiling to diffuse the tension, “I didn’t expect to see you around here”

Hyunjin nodded, hands squeezing his coffee cup, “Yeah. I…don’t come here too often”

She nodded, familiarity returning to her gaze, “Ah. Too easy to get recognised?”

Hyunjin nodded along, even though that wasn’t the reason. He hated how his life seemed to revolve around his fame, and not his choices, like maybe he didn’t come here because he just liked another coffee shop more. Changbin took over, noticing the awkward shift in Hyunjin, “Um, so how have you been, Yujin? You look good!”

She smiled at him, “I’m great. I’m actually doing really well… I, uh, moved out of the city, closer to the outskirts”

“Really?” Hyunjin asked. He wondered why she would make such a decision. She’d trained with him for years, until she’d suddenly dropped out of the idol industry, but back when Hyunjin knew her and dated her, they had the same ambitions. The same thirst to be recognized, to be respected, and known for their talent. That’s why they had got along so well.

“Hmm, the city got too much for me sometimes. Anyway after I met Haru, it just seemed like the right choice to make”

“Haru. Is that…your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked, noticing the boy back at the table. 

“Well…” She giggled, lifting her hand up to show them the glittering, gorgeous ring, “Fiancé, actually”

Changbin’s eyes widened, “You’re engaged?”

She nodded, a dimple in her cheek, “Haru asked me a few months ago”

Hyunjin forced himself to smile, but there was a deep pit in his stomach, recalling the conversations they used to have back in their days as trainees. They were never that serious to talk about weddings, or marriage. They both knew it was only an attraction between them and would stay that way, but he remembered a specific conversation where Yujin had said that the only disadvantage of becoming famous was the love life they’d be giving up. He was happy for her now. She hadn’t had to give it up after all, “Congratulations, Yujin. That’s…really good”

“Never too early to settle down, am I right?” She laughed, “What about you, Jinnie? How have you been?”

“I’m…good too. So…what are you doing these days?” He redirected the conversation back, curiosity brimming at him. What did someone do once they’d left the idol life? They were free to do absolutely anything, the choices were limitless. He’d never known a life without rules. He’d been training since he was fourteen, after all. She shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of everything. I volunteered at an organisation for a while, I tested my hand at photography, modelling even, but then I realised I really don’t want to be around cameras of any kind” She laughed, “I teach now, though”

“That sounds really nice, Yujin. I’m glad you get to do something you love”

“Well, you too! You’re absolutely thriving, Hyunjin. I see you every day with all your brand deals and advertisements. Does it ever get tiring being pretty all the time?”

Hyunjin smiled, “It’s…part of my job”

“Well, you deserve it. I remember how focused you used to be. You were my motivation, you know? It should have been obvious that life wasn’t for me. I hated everything. My favourite part of the academy used to be seeing you” At those words, the boy, Haru joined her, slipping an arm around her waist, “Everything all right, baby?”

She glanced at him, “Shit, I totally forgot to get the coffee. Just ran into some old friends”

Haru laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it for us, babe.” He kissed her again, with no hesitance of being seen by so many people, and went to pick up the drinks. Changbin conversed with Haru, as Yujin asked Hyunjin, “I read that you went on a break for a couple of months. That must have been…wow, relieving?”

He swallowed, “Yeah, it was really good, but…I’m back to work now”

“That must’ve been nice. I don’t know how you do it, Hyunnie. I remember when we training together, you wouldn’t leave the practice room for days. Still the same?”

Hyunjin nodded. Yujin had changed so much from when he’d last met her. Had he changed at all?

Haru smiled at him, “Thank you for taking good care of her then. She tells me about those days a lot. It must have been thrilling to keep it a secret from everyone”

Hyunjin shook his head, smiling politely at him, “It was terrifying actually” 

They laughed. Haru pulled Yujin into his side again as she said, “Well…this was unexpected, but if your schedule permits, you and the boys are always welcome to the engagement party. It’s the end of December”

Changbin sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately, we’re working the whole month”. Yujin frowned, “That’s terrible….I would suggest catching up after that but…me and Haru are going to be gone for three months”

“Oh, where are you going?” Changbin asked.

“Backpacking through Europe” She responded chirpily, “Haru’s really into art and sculptures, so we have this silly idea to visit every museum in Paris”

“That sounds really good” Hyunjin smiled, but he was drowning so deep in his thoughts he could barely focus. What a nice life. It was strange, the last time he saw her, she was in the same boat as him. Training to be an idol, like him. But their paths had diverged, and envy settled in him. He was so lucky to have his life, but he wished he could just take off like that too on vacation, no questions asked. Changbin’s phone buzzed and he apologised, ”Um sorry to stop this, but we gotta go. Eunwoo’s calling us back in to work”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh, of course. It was great to meet you Yujin, and you too, Haru. Congratulations again, on the engagement. I hope you have a good time in Europe. I’m really happy for you”

Suddenly the expensive bracelets he was wearing felt like shackles around Hyunjin’s wrists. 

»»————-

A fire burned within him, a quiet inferno consuming his peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yujin and what her life was like now. She’d rebuilt it to something so special. She would never have that peace of life if she’d stayed in her company or with Hyunjin. He sat at the company table, signing albums, and it was a monotonous task so his thoughts kept drifting. 

“Jinnie. Your phone” Jisung mumbled, poking him with a pen. Hyunjin lift his head to see it buzzing across the table. You were calling. He took a breath, walking out to talk to you. You were the only thing that could make this horrible fucking day better. He hoped you weren’t still upset at him rejecting your offer to come to the city. Hopefully, you’d understand. Everything was too treacherous. Hyunjin…was too treacherous for you right now. Still, he listened to you about your day, and how you’d apparently made up with Yongbok. He smiled, lowering his voice as employees passed him in the corridor, “What did you guys do?”

As you told him everything he wished he was doing with you instead, Hyunjin faded into thought again until you said, “Um…and something else happened. When we were talking, Yongbok said something…He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”

He wished he was more surprised.

A cynical stupid part of him was happy at this. So Yongbok finally told you. Bitterness settled into his veins, scorching him from the inside out, and Hyunjin found himself thinking that maybe with Yongbok, you could finally have the life he couldn’t give you.

When he got home that night, he realised the hydrangeas in his room had withered away completely.

»»————-

He woke to fresh flowers on his desk. Baby blue, lilac, pink and white. All shapes and colors. The scent is what woke him up. It starkly contrasted to the dying hydrangeas that he still hadn’t thrown away. He’d been meaning to draw them in that state. A cruel render of their destruction. 

The comeback was in a few days. Their album would finally be out to the public. There was so much to do today, and he lay in bed just a little longer to enjoy the temporary peace. A press conference was underway soon, and he would have to put on his best self. It was going to be live-streamed and there were no doubts that he’d be asked about the hiatus. He worried if the music would be well received, if it would surpass everyone’s expectations. Hyunjin finally crawled out of bed and read the little notes attached to the bouquets. Congratulations on your 4th successful studio album. Never forget how lucky and blessed you are~!

He walked into his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low, sleep clouding him, to see even more flowers on the island. “Who sent these?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Jisung looked sorrowful though, ignoring the bouquets entirely.

“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, the worst scenarios playing in his head.

He swallowed, “They broke up”

His stomach was a pit at the news, “When?”

“Late last night. Chan…still hasn’t come home yet. We have no idea where he is”

“What? How do you know they broke up?”

“Kairi texted Binnie. She was worried. We can’t find him anywhere…”

“I’m going to call him" Hyunjin said, rushing to his room.

“We already tried that, Jinnie” Changbin spoke, “We’ve been trying since an hour”

“Maybe he’ll pick up my call” Hyunjin hoped, as the ringer rang in his ear. After eight rings, Chan did pick up. “Hello, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, voice soft. Jisung and Changbin moved closer, eyes wide as they observed him. Chan sounded low on the other end, “Jinnie…? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. Where are you, Channie? Are you all right?”

“I’m…fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the conference”

“No, can I please come get you? Let me” Hyunjin pleaded. There was a pause, and a sigh and then Chan said, “I’m at the old dorm”

“I’ll be right there” Hyunjin hung up.

“No, we’re coming with” Jisung said, stepping ahead.

“Guys. Let me…just do this on my own. Eunwoo would kill us if none of us are here. Me and Chan will make it to the press conference, I promise”

Hyunjin couldn’t drive fast enough. For a second, he worried he would forget the way to their old house but it was embedded into him. It’s where they’d had their whole beginning, and Hyunjin got there in record time. Kairi meant everything to Chan, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling right now. Chan was always there for him, and he felt personally responsible to make sure he was all right. The old dorm building looked run-down; it had been falling apart for years, even when the boys lived there, and he chose the stairs over the rusty old elevator. On the fourth floor, there was an alcove. It was hidden behind a door that was sometimes locked, but he pushed it open. Chan was sitting inside, on the window seat, a soft smile on his face when he saw Hyunjin approach.

“Just you?” He tilt his head, seeing nobody else follow, “I thought the cavalry would show up”

Hyunjin shot him a soft smile, leaning against the door, “Just me….can I join you?”

Chan pat the empty seat next to him, and Hyunjin sat down. This is where Chan was always found, back when they still lived here. It’s where he came to think. To write their greatest hits. To ponder about life’s biggest mysteries. It was always his place, and Hyunjin could see why he loved it so much. It was hidden, like a secret room. Ignoring the cobweb in the corner, it was cosy. A faded old painting hung on the wall, rickety floorboards that probably hid treasures inside, a window that looked out onto an alley. The alley was something special in itself. It was between two apartment buildings, and a little bakery was carved into the side of the building. The few times Hyunjin sat here with Chan, he’d seen bakers arrive at three in the morning, loading powdered sugar and other ingredients in, creating storms and clouds of sugar. It was always a beautiful sight.

“What happened, Chan?” Hyunjin ended up asking, cutting to the chase. They both knew why he was here. Chan swallowed, looking wistful, “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m going to be okay. I just needed…a day to let the sadness out”

“You can take more than that” 

“Not really. I can’t afford to, not this week. I gotta put on my best self”

“We’ll understand if you don’t.” Hyunjin frowned, admirable of Chan’s resolve, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here” Chan glanced at him, a smile on his face, “I know you are, Jinnie. You’re actually the best, and the worst person to talk to this about”

“Why the worst?” Hyunjin frowned.

Chan laughed, “You don’t want to hear the good part first?”

“No…”

“The worst because…I know what you felt about me and Kairi… I feel responsible for how you see the world, crazy as that sounds. I know you had to hear our arguments the past few weeks, I’m sorry about that. I feel like I took away all your hope.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve had minimal hope to begin with”

Chan laughed, loudly, “God, Jinnie, that’s really fucked up, you know? It shouldn’t be this way. We should be out there, showing our girls the best time”

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for your break up, Chan,” Hyunjin emphasized.

“Wow. Breakup. That sounds insane to say” He breathed in a sigh, as it was finally settling in, “To think I was going to ask her to marry me in a few months”

Hyunjin felt emotional. He’d known and adored their relationship for the longest time, “I’m so sorry, Chan. I don’t know what to say, I wish I could…make this better”

“You don’t have to. I’m…happy you’re here. Kim Soohyun asked to see my phone last night. I don’t know why, but I deleted every conversation with Kairi. I suppose I panicked. I shouldn’t have done that, because now all my best memories with her are just that…memories”

Hyunjin swallowed, and maybe all the reading poetry had rotted his brain. His heart was starting to shrivel, just like the Hydrangeas that were out of bloom. Once he got home, maybe it was the right move to erase his chat history with you too. A small way of shielding himself from the damage that could follow. His memories with you would be lost, but his carelessness would only hurt the boys more.

Chan reminded him far too much of you, the way he held onto memories, objects, and tangible things with an iron grip. He recalled how sad you’d felt erasing the little star you’d drawn from Hyunjin’s face. It had meant so much to you. Maybe he was becoming more like you every day too, which is why the dying flowers still rested on Hyunjin’s desk when he should have thrown them out weeks ago. He ended up saying something that only halfway made sense, “I want to say that…the things we’re meant for will always come back to us, but… I stray further from that thought every day, so I would be lying if I tried to convince you of that” 

Chan smiled sadly, and he held something within his hands, “You’re the most romantic person I know, even without trying to be”

Hyunjin laughed, bitterly, “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed”

Chan turned to him, “Don’t say that, Jinnie”

Hyunjin shook his head, facing him, “I came here for you, not to talk about me…you know you have me, always, right?”

“I know” Chan leaned in, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin. It was an awkward half-hug but Hyunjin relaxed into the embrace, whispering, “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with Kairi”

Chan pulled away, a sincere smile on his face, “Thank you. We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the conference”

“You’re right” Hyunjin nodded, but they made no attempt to move, trying to lengthen this short-lived peace.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Chan muttered, and it’s only then that Hyunjin realised what he held in his palm. A diamond ring. The one he was going to propose to Kairi with.

“What?” 

“What our lives are like. Do you never question that?” Chan asked. Hyunjin had never heard him talk like this, and he couldn’t comprehend this. Chan had built them up from the ground up, worked his ass off to get them to where they are. In fact, he couldn’t bear to see this side of him. He shouldn’t be questioning all his hard work, or that all would have been for nothing. Out of all people in the world, Chan couldn't be the one to lose hope. He was their rock.

He felt for Chan. So much. Yet, this train of thought was so dangerous. What would happen to them if they all started hating their job? They had never been forced into this career, they’d made their choices of their own volition, even if it was done as a teenager who didn’t know what he’d be giving up, but they’d gained so much too. The lifestyle Hyunjin led…people would kill for. 14-year-old him would kill for this. And he’d be so proud of him for it too. So, why was he questioning everything now? 

“No, I don’t” Hyunjin said. It was a lie, but he would sell it to Chan, for his sake, “We’re doing something impossible for most people to even imagine in the world. The impact that you have on people is…unreal. Millions of people love you, and you inspire them. You inspire me to work harder everyday. So, I don’t question if it’s worth it, and you shouldn’t either, Chan”

Something in Chan’s eyes changed, as if he had never expected him to say this. Hyunjin, the romantic, would never have said that. Love felt like the core of his life. He was hungry for it, but there was more than one kind of love.

So later that week, when Hyunjin stared at his phone in his hands, it was filled up with memories of you. Every phone call, each picture you’d sent him, each sweet thought he’d scribbled in his notes but never had the chance to send you. The press tour had already begun, and the boys were knee-depth in stress, and Hyunjin could never let himself add to that. Kairi had talked about sacrifices, and he finally understood it. Maybe it was cowardly to never explain to you what was happening, but it was easier. He didn’t have the heart to delete the past few months, so he took Eunwoo’s advice and changed his number instead.

Sorrow settled in his chest as Hyunjin realised that he would go to the ends of the earth for you, but perhaps that wasn’t still enough. He wasn’t willing to give this life up, and this was a sacrifice he was going to have to make.

»»————- Present Day. 

You only had the moonlight to guide you tonight.

There were hardly any streetlights this far out. It was pitch black, and the glow of the moon fell upon Hyunjin’s face, tracing each contour perfectly. You were trying real hard to not look at him. He was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel and it was annoying. It kept grabbing your attention, and you’d glance at him only to remember you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t spend time marveling at his little mannerisms because…things had changed. 

All you could do was listen to the conversations of the backseat. Chan was mumbling something to Kairi, and their voices had dropped in volume since you’d pulled out of the parking lot. Each syllable was spoken in a whisper, like it was a secret between them, and you felt like you were eavesdropping. Still, there was not much else to focus to. You definitely were not going to focus on the boy sitting next to you.

“I know that it could’ve been better…but I hope that you still had a good time today” Chan said softly, and through the rearview mirror, you saw that they’d laced their hands together. Kairi was leaning into him, fingers interlocked, and you looked down at your hands. The empty spaces between your fingers bothered you. 

“I did, Chris” Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, “Honestly, it was a pretty special birthday”

You averted your gaze, giving them privacy. Hyunjin kept glancing in the mirror briefly before looking back to the road. There was a small smile on his lips. He used to talk about them so much. He must be happy with this outcome. You didn’t know the details of what had gone wrong with their relationship, you’d never pried, but it must have been hard getting back together after all that heartbreak and pain.

“I’m…really fucking tired. I might pass out any second” Kairi announced, followed by a yawn.

“Don’t worry. Hyunjin is a smooth driver” Chan reassured, “Isn’t he?”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes flickering to Chan’s, “Of course. And um, Kairi, if you’re cold, I have an extra jacket in the backseat”

There was rummaging and then Kairi gasped, having found the jacket, “This is so stylish. I missed your clothes, Jinnie”

“Hey, hey. What are you trying to imply?” Chan complained. Kairi giggled, and Hyunjin laughed, “Your girlfriend is a fan of color, Chan. That’s not my fault”

“How predictable of you” Chan mumbled, and you could see him rolling his eyes. You drifted out of their conversation, looking out the window at the passing landscape. Trees drifted by in a blur and there was hardly any civilisation out here. Miles and miles of nothing. 

“Don’t you agree?” Kairi laughed, hand landing on your shoulder, and she was talking to you.

“Sorry?” You asked, “Agree with what?”

“Fuck. Did I wake you?” She apologised, “I didn’t realise you fell asleep”

“No, no, I’m up. I was just distracted….” You replied, clearing your throat. This conversation warranted another glance from Hyunjin, as if he was checking to see what you were distracted by. You returned his gaze with indifference, raising your eyebrows. He immediately looked away, back to the road.

“Well, I was telling Chris that your friends, Minnie and Jamie are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever met. I mean, I hardly see relationships that strong here; people are usually just serial daters” Kairi explained.

“Oh. Right” You nodded, thankful to have the context, “They’re…really cute, yeah”

“A serial dater?” Chan asked.

“Yeah. Dating apps will do that to you, especially in midtown. Take my advice now, never get on one, you’ll be fighting in the trenches” Kairi laughed. The trees were whizzing past so fast it made you dizzy, you mumbled, “It’s funny. Dating apps could never work back home”

“Cause you know everyone? Is that really true?” She asked. You nodded, “I mean, yeah. You go to school with the people technically in your dating age range, and there are only five restaurants and hang-out spots, so you’re always bumping into each other. It’s impossible to not know everyone”

“Was that ever weird?” Kairi asked, “Like seeing your ex at dinner or something?”

A small laugh escaped you, “It actually sucked. You couldn’t escape them”

“Did you ever run into her exes?” Chan asked, and it took you a second to realise the question was directed at Hyunjin. It took him a few seconds and he sat up straighter, mumbling quietly, “No.”

You blinked at his nonchalance, trying not to let this phase you. This could be a normal car ride if you just let it. Suddenly your gut was hurting with anxiety and you looked out the window again, away from him.

“Well, thankfully, I’ve never had to deal with that,” Chan spoke, “Eunwoo would have a heart attack if one of us was found on those apps. Although there’s quite a few fake profiles out there with Hyunjin’s face on them”

“Eunwoo?” You asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. It sent jealousy surging through you. Why did you feel jealous by even the thought of Hyunjin being on a dating app? You needed to get a grip on your emotions. 

“Ah. Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Chan asked, so casually, “Eunwoo’s…our manager, of sorts”

Without thinking, you spoke, “I thought your manager was the lady in the shop”

“What shop?” Chan frowned, confused, “Wait, hold up. You’ve met one of our managers, Y/N? Where was that?” You stayed silent, for only a second, wondering if Hyunjin would answer this question. After all, he knew the manager and they were in the shop for a reason. The one where he had ignored you completely, as if you didn’t exist. You were only there by accident, after losing your way trying to find the Atelier. To your relief, Hyunjin did speak, “Yeah. That was Mrs. Giwon…she was accompanying me on one of the snack runs”

“Ah” Kairi exclaimed, “She’s…the worst one”

“Hey” Chan spoke, “She’s really helpful sometimes”

“Anyway…moving on” Kairi rolled her eyes, “She kind of traumatised me after she busted us”

“Busted you?” You turned, intrigued. Kairi laughed, “She walked in on me and Chan making out in the studio! God, that day was hell. She like…actually yelled at me for not maintaining a professional attitude in their building”

“And that, of course…led to the no-girlfriend in the studio rule,” Chan mumbled, and through the rearview, you saw him roll his eyes. That seemed like an insane rule to have, especially for adults. You stole a glance at Hyunjin to catch his reaction. He looked straight ahead, as if he couldn’t even hear this conversation, laser-focused on driving the empty streets. Kairi laughed loudly, “Changbin was the most pissed about that!”

“He has a girlfriend?” 

“No. That man’s a serial dater, through and through. He’s too busy producing insane music to have a full relationship anyway. He goes through NDA’s faster than you can say hookup, but honestly…he enjoys himself so much. He’s…very popular with all the girls”

You wanted to ask so much more about that. NDAs…? So that was a truth and not a rumor. Hyunjin had never mentioned those to you. At the paint and wine event, Sakura and Yeosang had asked him about it, and he’d been cautious about answering. But it was true. All of it felt so silly. Their words came back to you. Imagine sleeping with someone and then signing a contract instead of some aftercare.

If you and Hyunjin had hooked up back in Daejon, would he have also made you sign an NDA? But he fingered you. He let you touch him. He let you cut his hair and give him a handjob in his little bathroom. Did that not ask for an NDA? Or did he just trust you enough? All the possibilities floated through your head, and stupidly, like a stupid girl, you blurted, “So what all does that NDA cover? Is it just sex or…is it like, making out and other things too? And it's legally required?”

At your question, Hyunjin’s grip on the wheel tightened. His shoulders tensed up. 

You’d struck a nerve. 

Good. 

It was satisfying to know you had some sort of impact on him. Till now, he was just pretending you didn’t exist. 

Kairi paused, pondering over it, “Um…pretty much just sex, but like…I didn’t have to sign an NDA every single time. It’s only if it’s with a new person"

“Right”

Chan laughed, “I know. It sounds crazy. Especially in the 21st century, but with the internet and everything, you can never be too careful what people will say in a public forum. Hyunjin, didn’t you hate them too when we started out?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “Yeah. It’s stupid”

So he would sign them too? How often did he sleep with a new girl? You didn’t want to think about this any longer. There was no point wondering about his past when you wouldn’t be in his future. Your phone buzzed against the console and you grabbed it, positioning it on the seat between your legs so you could read it. It was a text from Felix.

hey. i was just talking with minho and man, i miss you I know you’ve likely forgotten all about me but call me later please…I think ill die here without you

A smile pulled at your cheeks, and you typed in a quick reply.

im getting back from a party lixie. It was kairi’s birthday. i miss you guys too :(

“Who are you texting at this hour?” Kairi piped up, leaning ahead, “Nate?”. You immediately clicked your phone screen black, even though you had nothing to hide. You just shot her a smile, “Just… a friend from back home”

Hyunjin probably knew exactly who you were talking about, yet he didn’t react. His stone-cold demeanour was really beginning to bother you.

“So where were you guys, at the party? When we found you, you two were at the cabins” Kairi spoke, breaking the tension. You swallowed, wondering if he would answer but he obviously wasn’t interested in speaking so you said, “I was dancing. And then…I hurt myself. So Hyunjin took me to the cabin to find a bandaid”

That wasn’t exactly what had happened. You had conveniently skipped over your argument, and the two of you spying on them, but Hyunjin nodded along, following your lie, “Yeah. There were no first aid kits there though”

Kairi nodded, “Shit, yeah. We didn’t think anybody would use the cabins for anything other than sex…anyway, I was thinkingggg we should play some game. It’d be nice to kill the time.”

Chan reminded her, “I thought you were about to pass out, baby”

Kairi was full of energy now as she suggested, “Well, I’m wide awake now! I kind of want the celebration to last a little while longer. Y/N, you can pick a game, since you're my guest of honour! Do you know any good ones?”

It seemed like Kairi and Chan had absolutely no fucking idea what happened between you and Hyunjin. They knew you weren’t together, but it seemed like they knew nothing more than that. Hyunjin hadn’t told them any of the details. They only knew you’d ended things, but not why. By their ease, and comfort…it seemed like they didn’t even know Hyunjin had been the one to end things with you. The memory of that made your chest clench, with hurt.

The heartbreak felt so one-sided. Everything seemed so easy for him. Had you got everything wrong this summer? Had you read too much into his actions? You felt embarrassed, thinking back to the kind of things you’d said to him. You didn’t tell him you loved him, but you pretty much said everything else. He knew more about you than anybody else in your life, and now he wouldn't even talk to you. You’d been willing to move to the city for him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Being in Seoul suddenly didn’t feel worth it anymore.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“We still are two hours out of the city. It’d be fun to play something” Kairi said, glancing at the GPS on the console. Play something? Like a road trip game? This hardly felt like a road trip, it was far too depressing to be one. “I’m…good with anything” You spoke, “I’m kind of really tired”

“How about word association?” Chan suggested, “I used to play that with my family as a kid”

You realised he was waiting for your response so you nodded, “Sure. How does it go…? Is there a way to lose?”

“Only if you take longer than three seconds to answer. We go in a circle, Kairi can start with any random word, you have to say a word related to the previous one, and the person who can’t come up with something loses”

You weren’t really in the mood to play, but you would need more energy to protest. Plus, any time interacting with the back-seaters was time removed with the boy in the front seat. Kairi quickly explained the rules, and that it would go clockwise, starting with Hyunjin. He still hadn’t reacted to the idea of the game so you weren’t even sure if he was playing. Kairi hummed loudly, looking around for inspiration. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon so she naturally said, “Thunder!”

“Storm” You immediately said.

“Well, Hyunjin was supposed to go” Kairi laughed, “I’ll go again. Eclipse?”

“Cosmic” Hyunjin replied. A curt, short, emotionless answer. You realised you had to speak now. You mumbled, “Um…the stars”

“Marilyn Monroe” Chan said. Kairi laughed loudly, “Chris. What the hell?”

“What? She’s…a star” Chan defended. You smiled at their bantering. Kairi rolled her eyes, “No. That’s what’s called a Freudian slip”

“Excuse me?” Chan giggled, “Don’t psychobabble me. What even is that?”

Kairi laughed, “It’s this theory that if you accidentally say something wrong, you were thinking about it subconsciously. Most people are thinking about sex, so that’s what a lot of Freudian slips reveal”

“So what… you’re accusing me of wanting to sleep with Marilyn Monroe?” Chan frowned. She giggled, “No, I’m just saying that’s how it works, smartass. It usually reveals your repressed thoughts”

You glanced back at her, “Yeah. I guess that’s what this entire game is about. Although I really don’t think Freud has had the best ideas. Some of them are…really regressive” 

Kairi grinned at you, nodding aggressively and she was still tipsy from before, “You’re so right, honestly. Most of the people I played this game with had no idea what a Freudian slip was. You know, this is why we’re friends. You’re…so fucking cool. You’re just like me”

“Y/N is not just like you” Chan laughed loudly.

“Excuse me?” She gasped, offended, “You just met her. How would you even know what she’s like?”

Chan chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve been hearing about her all summer—” He suddenly stopped, realising what he’d said. An awkward silence enveloped the car and you did everything not to look at Hyunjin. So… Chan had been hearing about you all summer. You knew Hyunjin had told the boys about you. You just wondered what he’d said. What did he know of you? Chan cleared his throat, embarrassed by his slip of the tongue, “I mean….never mind. Should we continue the game? Hyunjin. Why don’t you start?”

Hyunjin swallowed, adjusting his hands on the wheel, “Um. I don’t know. Sin?”

Your eyes widened at his word choice, and it was your turn to go next. Sin? What was he even thinking of? Your mind went through the seven deadly sins that you knew of, and you only had three seconds so you blurted, “Lust”

It was Chan’s turn now, and he blanked, eyes widening, “Uh…passion?”

You didn’t like this tangent of thought… and you waited for Kairi to say something. Chan teased, “Are you serious? You’re gonna lose”. She yelled, “Wait, wait. I know. Yearning!”

It was Hyunjin’s turn to play. His mouth parted, and he was about to say something, but instead he chose not to. He just shook his head, “I don’t know…I can’t really focus on the game when I’m driving”

Kairi sighed, “Can’t believe you lost on yearning, Hyunjin”

“Yeah. My mistake” He mumbled. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. You didn’t really want to play this game anymore. You stared out the window, your reflection flickering in the window. You wanted to be home already, and not in this car where you felt like a stranger.

There was so much brevity and lightheartedness in the conversations between Chan and Kairi, and here you were…struggling to even get a proper hi out. You felt like a stranger, even to Kairi. You’d only known her for a few weeks, compared to them. The three of them felt like a unit, like a family that was finally complete again. Hyunjin had sang praises of their love, and you could see it now. It wasn’t anything grand or impossible, it was so casual and effortless. Kairi and Chan fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly, but even more than that, they enhanced each other so simply. There was no fear of misunderstandings, or betrayal. They were giggling in the back, laughing about some inside joke you’d never be able to understand. Perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted this ride. Kairi was your friend, but you weren’t really welcome here. You were an outsider. Chan must have wanted to keep the conversation going so he said, “So, Y/N, you were about to tell me about yourself when we got in the car” 

You swallowed, “Um, I didn’t know I was going to be doing that”

Kairi teased, “Yeah, Chan. I thought you knew all about her, and how me and her are so similar”

Chan giggled, “It was a figure of speech. No, but seriously, Y/N”

You bit your lip, and a deep sadness was overwhelming you. One you’d been trying to escape for months but it seemed impossible now. You’d genuinely enjoyed the party, until he’d showed up. He’d ruined everything. It had taken so long for you to not think about him. Now you felt like you were sinking again, “Um…what do you want to know? I came here to study art. There’s not really much to tell…You’re the one who has a really interesting life."

Chan frowned, “Come on. That’s not a real answer. I wanna know you, not answers you’d type in on some Facebook page”

You were at a loss for words, and you mostly just felt conscious around Hyunjin. You always hated introductions like this, and icebreakers, especially around someone you wanted to like you. Chan seemed amazing, he was brilliant so how could your little life possibly impress him? You’d done nothing that would have an impact on anyone, unlike them. Anything you say would be so boring. So you settled for a basic fact about yourself, a preface to your personality, “Well…I used to work in an art—”

“She’s a really good artist” Hyunjin suddenly interrupted you.

Your gaze snapped to his.

“Oh yeah?” Chan asked, surprised.

“Yup” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “She’s in the most prestigious program of the country” 

Chan smiled, “Wow. That’s…amazing, Y/N. You should be bragging about that stuff”

“There’s only like…25 people that get in from across the world” Hyunjin continued talking, staring right ahead so casually. There was a knot in your stomach, and he had the faintest of a smile on his face as he talked about you. It was more than he’d given you in the past hours, “She’s one of the few domestic students”

“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Kairi exclaimed, hand reaching out to tap you. But you were speechless, staring at Hyunjin. Why did he just do that?

“Well, now you’ve got to show me your art, Y/N!” Chan grinned, “Hyunjin’s got pretty high standards when it comes to those, so I’m curious”

You nodded, forcing a smile at him, “Yeah…um, maybe later”

“Well, I hope you taught Hyunjin something too” Chan laughed. 

Hyunjin nodded, and there was a hint of emotion as he spoke, “She did”

You chewed on your lower lip, fiddling with your jacket, thinking about his words, even long after he’d said them.

The barren highway enveloped the car in darkness, and the tiny GPS screen was the only light source. You stared ahead, watching the road lit up in the headlights, uncovering more of the unknown every second. There was nobody else out here. It was spooky, and you hated the feeling. You felt trapped in this metal contraption. Hyunjin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, a familiar rhythm, probably calming his nerves down. The backseat noise had died down, and it seemed like the tiredness had finally hit Kairi. The only indication of passing time was the clock on the dashboard. You watched it tick down every second, hoping it would go faster. The city was still so far out. You leaned back onto the seat, watching trees whiz past in silence. Hyunjin was so quiet you’d almost think he fell asleep. The only surmountable sound was the heating, and the tapping of his fingers. You closed your eyes, hoping the time would pass faster.

You couldn’t help but think of what was waiting for you. There was no lingering excitement. This party had been the only thing you’d been looking forward to for a while. There was so much work back in class, starting Monday. Kim Jieong was expecting so much from you. You felt emotionally drained. He was your only motivation, pushing you to get better. After all, there was nothing else waiting for you back there. 

Suddenly Hyunjin cleared his throat, drawing your attention. From your peripheral vision, you saw him reach for the radio, fingers hovering over the console, and then he looked to you, “Um…mind if I put something on?”

You blinked, distracted by how he looked in the glow of the light. His glasses were thin, hanging on his nose bridge, and his lips were pursed. He’d bitten them raw. Maybe you weren’t the only one anxious in this car. You shook your head, “Go ahead”

He pressed a button, and life filled the previously stagnant car. An announcer was talking, probably at an all-night radio station, and you asked softly, “Wouldn’t this wake them up?”

Hyunjin looked at you again, over the rim of his glasses, eyes meeting yours for another torturous split second. In the dark, they looked like pools of black, a darkened gaze as he spoke, “Uh, don’t worry. I turned the speakers in the back off. It’s only the front ones that are working”

Oh. You didn’t even know that was possible. They obviously had access to the best cars with the best technologies. Music began playing, a rock band from the 80s, and you rest your head again, closing your eyes to savour in this newfound peace. It was strange to sit next to the man you desired the most yet have no conversation. For the past few months, it had been impossible to separate you, and the irony of this moment didn’t fail to surprise you. You’d come all the way to Seoul for him. Yet the only sound in the car was Bon Jovi on the radio. 

“Um—”

“So—” You and Hyunjin both spoke at the same time.

“Sorry,” You apologised, “What were you about to say?”

He glanced at you, hand reaching out to the radio again, and you noticed he had new rings on his finger. They looked so expensive, glittering sparkles, and he must have bought them recently. He seemed nervous and he spoke, “I can…uh, change the music if you don’t like it”

Your eyebrows shot up. That clearly wasn’t what he was going to say. “No, it’s nice. I like him”

He nodded, retreating his hand and putting it back on the console. You wondered about the unspoken, but wondering would only kill you. So you shut your eyes again, hands warm in your lap, wishing to be somewhere else. The tune was thrilling. 

“80’s music is actually one of my favourites”

You opened your eyes to look at him, “Really?”

“Yeah. I think….their songs are pretty incomparable. I actually got a lot of inspiration for our album from them. I don’t know if you heard it; it’s very pop-rock heavy, which isn’t what we usually do” He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice, as if you two were just getting to know each other. 

You observed him, “Is that what you were going to say earlier?”

“Sorry?” He looked right at you, dark eyes flickering over your features. You felt conscious of how you looked. You were still in his sweater, and your hair was still wet from the swim. You said, “Um…you were about to say something but decided not to. Was that it?”

Realisation sank into his face, lips parting, “No, I was…going to ask you how you met Kairi”

“Oh…” Disappointment filled you. What were you expecting to be said? An apology would be nice actually. Something to start with. You were having trouble grasping that things between you and him were truly over. They couldn’t be. Hadn’t he only come into your life yesterday, uprooting everything you thought you knew about yourself? Or maybe you were just desperately clinging on to a summer dream that wasn’t real.

“Sorry. Should I not have asked?” Hyunjin said. 

“No, that’s fine. It was just a crazy coincidence. We were at a bar…me and my friends, and somebody spilled a drink on her, I just happened to be there. I offered to help her. Obviously…I didn’t know who she was. Later, I realised it was Kairi”

“That’s…” Hyunjin’s fingers adjusted on the steering wheel, he spaced them out, glancing at you again, “That’s really nice of you”

“Yeah”

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“What? Um, no.” You shook your head awkwardly. His sweater was keeping you plenty warm.

“Okay”

The silence drowned you again, and you focused on the song playing, replaying the previous conversation in your head, clinging to it for life.

“I…tried Gouache” 

It took you a second to register that Hyunjin was talking to you, again.

Why was he making an effort after what went down earlier? You’d argued and fought, and now he was…trying to be nice? Was he trying to make amends? Did he finally realise what an asshole he’d been? Or were his memories of summer coming back to him too? Because every time you looked at him, all you could remember was the calmness of each moment you’d spent with him, and how his skin had felt to touch, and how his body had felt against yours, warm and comforting. How could he not be thinking of that?

“Sorry?” You glanced at him. 

He straightened up, hands clasped before him, “I…taught myself Gouache. I hadn’t explored it much before, but I had some time between schedules last month and I decided to give it a shot”

You didn’t know what to say. Gouache was such a difficult pigmented paint medium to work with. You stayed quiet, which somehow… he took a sign to continue speaking, “It was hard…but I found the supplies and tried many styles with it. I couldn’t get it right for the longest time but then realised I had the wrong brushes. I…think I prefer it to watercolor”

“Are you serious?”

He glanced at you, almost surprised that you’d replied even though he had been telling you all of this. He nodded, his lips a thin line.

“Gouache can never have the same effect, or…even replace watercolours. It’s…so much more intense. It loses all of its softness” You ended up saying.

“Have you worked with it before?”

“In class. I do all the time” You answered, “I don’t like it. I prefer acrylics or oil”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes zeroed in on you again, “Do you have the freedom to choose?”

“Choose what?”

“The material you want to paint with” He stated, simply. 

“Yeah. It’s up to us” You said.

Hyunjin just nodded, and then silently turned away. As did you. Queen was playing on the radio now, and you liked this song. Somebody to Love. It seemed like Hyunjin enjoyed this song too, because he reached ahead, his bracelets clinking together and he increased the volume just slightly. You glanced in the rearview mirror, and Kairi and Chan were still asleep, cuddled up to each other. Hyunjin was softly singing, under his breath, but he knew all the words. His voice brought a strange calmness to your body, warming it up.

“I can’t believe you tried Gouache” You mumbled, still thinking about it. You didn’t want to initiate conversation with him, not after everything he’d done to your heart. But you were so curious. It was really hard to work with, especially if someone was a beginner.

“Can I show you something?” He asked.

“What?”

He looked at you, a newfound energy in him, “The…paintings I’ve been working on”

“Unless you’re going to pull over—”

“They’re in my phone. You can just…see them there”

You glanced at his phone that lay on the console.

“Um…are you sure?” You reached for his phone, and it was strange that he completely trusted you with it.

“Yeah. I don’t mind. There’s nothing I have to hide from you. The password…I can just type it in” He grabbed it from you, entering random numbers that you couldn’t grasp the significance of, before handing his unlocked phone back to you. The wallpaper was a pretty sunset. You recognised the landscape instantly. It must have been the pictures he took on the Ferris wheel with Seungmin, back at the summer carnival. Memories of that flooded through you. It had been a perfect day. You recalled the photobooth pictures that lay in your sketchbook, Hyunjin had put them there for you to find. You still didn’t understand why, or how he got a hold of them. As far as you knew, he’d deleted them in front of your eyes. You glanced at him; his eyebrows were knitted as he concentrated on driving, still occasionally mouthing the words to the song. You may never get this chance again. “How’d you get those pictures?” You broke the silence.

It took him a second to comprehend your question, and he turned casually, “Hmm?”

In this angle, confusion on his face, nose scrunched up, he looked so tame, so innocent. You already wished to take back what you’d said, in case it ruin this strange peace. It was too late to back up now as he stared at you so you said, “In my sketchbook, I found the photobooth strip. The pictures of us kissing. I…thought you deleted them”

His eyes widened, and he turned back to the road, voice dropping low, “Oh… It doesn’t really matter, Y/N”

His response irked you. It reminded you again that this was futile, whatever you chased for with Hyunjin. “Yeah. It doesn’t” You agreed, looking back at his phone in your hands. You opened up his picture gallery. Everything was divided into little folders, and his entire life was so organised. If you were his girlfriend, would there be a folder for you in it too? You clicked on the one which was so fittingly named ‘Art’. You were annoyed at him but you couldn’t pretend, “Oh. These are…really good, Hyunjin”

He clearly gravitated towards drawing flowers and landscapes. Some of them were familiar, most of them were new. There were so many pictures of flowers, at all stages. He must be drawing from life. It seemed like he’d developed a lot of art ever since he’d come back. They were all so intense and bold, no softness to them that watercolour provided. You’d always thought that Gouache was something in between watercolour and acrylic, a strange midway compromise, yet Hyunjin had made masterpieces out of it, “You did all of these in Gouache?”

He only nodded in response, as you scrolled through the gallery.

“You’re crazy” You said.

Hyunjin let out a laugh, “You really hate it that much?”

“It’s just difficult to work with, but you’re actually really great at these” You stared at the art, and how his technique had improved. All his lines were more confident, pronounced, bolder. He’d gotten so much better in your absence. You’d only gotten worse in his.

“So…how’s the apprenticeship going? Is Kim Jieong as nice as you thought?” He asked. You put his phone back on the console, even though you urged to see everything he’d felt worth storing in his phone. He had asked you a question so you tried to focus on that, “Yeah. He’s really nice. He is so talented. I, um, asked him about the painting, by the way. The one we were talking about”

“The one about the lovers drowning in moonlight?”

You nodded, hands feeling jittery, unable to stomach this casual conversation, “Yup. He was surprised it was my favourite. He thinks I have morbid taste. And… the day he took us to your work building, he wanted us to meet some gallery curator”

“Must have been Karina”

“You know her?” You glanced at him, hoping your face didn’t give anything away. How petty of you to be jealous that he knew another girl. Another artist at that. 

“She’s the prodigy I was telling you about. She wants me to…exhibit some of my work at a gallery next month”

Your eyes widened, and you fiddled with the zipper on the jacket, “Oh. That’s…a big deal. Are you allowed to do that?”

He looked at you, “Yeah, the company and Eunwoo’s really supportive. The fans love it, so he thinks it’s a great stream of revenue and publicity. Any press is good press. He couldn’t care less about the art” 

“Right” You nodded, watching him, “Well, maybe Kim Jieong will make it a field trip for us again. Your exhibition”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’d be really embarrassing. I wouldn’t want all your professional artist friends to judge my work”

“Well…they’re not as pretentious as you might think. My friends…they’re really nice. Everybody’s not bad. I mean…it was hard settling in, but…I think I like it now” You were rambling, without meaning to share so much with him. Maybe you’d just been craving to have a real conversation with him all this while. After all, he was the only person in your life who understood, “And Kim Jieong is my favourite part of it anyway. Even if everybody sucks. I look up to him a lot. He…even calls me sweetheart. It always throws me off” 

“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”

You frowned, not expecting that response, “No…he has different nicknames for everyone”

“I see” His reply was curt, like he didn’t believe that. He cleared his throat, “And um…your friends? The other students? Are they cool?”

“I mean, you’ve already met Jeonghan”

“Is that the boy who you were dancing with?”

“Yeah, that’s him”

Hyunjin stayed quiet for a minute and then he said, “He has two left feet”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry” He chuckled dryly, “When you were dancing with him, he almost dropped you…like ten times”

“He only came to the party for me, because I didn’t know anybody. Don’t make fun of him. He was kind of the best part of my day”

“I’m not making fun of him. It’s just an observation” Hyunjin mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and he looked at you, “And I saw your face. You were worried he’d drop you too”

“I was not” Your eyes narrowed, but a stupid smile tugged at your lips, “Anyway. You’re one to talk. You’re probably worse”

He laughed properly this time, looking at you over his glasses, “Oh, am I?”

You shrugged, “We’ve never danced together so it could be true”

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a professional dancer, Y/N” His tone was cocky.

You sighed, facing away to look out, “Ugh. Do you always have to bring up the idol card?”

“The idol card?” He repeated, “That’s my job, what do you mean?”

“Just seems like an unfair advantage”

Hyunjin chuckled, “Fine. Okay. Even if I wasn’t a professional dancer, I bet I’d still be able to take Jeonghan in a dance battle”

“I’m starting to think that you’re obsessed with him…”

Hyunjin laughed, “I guess I see why you chose him now”

Your gaze darted to his, “What?”

You arrived at a railway crossing. The signal was loud, and he stopped the car, foot on the brake as he slowed down. “He is your boyfriend…isn’t he?” He said, so surely. 

You stared at him, wondering how he could ask that so casually, so unaffected. You’d probably die if Hyunjin had a girlfriend. Did he think you’d move on so fucking fast? You woke and fell asleep to the thought of him every day still, months later. You thought of him every waking second. Maybe you should take a book out of Hyunjin’s ability to be vague, “Are you seriously asking me that?”

He looked at you, eyes heavy with emotion. He swallowed, “Yeah. I am”

You stared right back at him, heart pounding fast, “Yeah. I am dating him”

“Oh” He shifted in his seat, “That’s nice…how long have you known him?”

You couldn’t believe he could be so…casual about it. You looked out, “It doesn’t matter”

Hyunjin nodded, “Well. For what it’s worth, Nate seems like a nice guy”

You just couldn’t comprehend how the fuck he could be so casual about this. As if you two had just been an inconvenient situationship and your lives and souls hadn’t completely intertwined this summer. As if you’d just move away, and get a new boyfriend and fall in love. As if you could ever truly move on from Hyunjin. As if he didn't know that you'd been in love with him this whole time. It wasn’t that simple. It could never be.

“So…you really don’t give a fuck?”

“I’m sorry?” He looked at you, feigning innocence, “About what?”

You could have said so many things. Bitterness clawed out of you. “Well, for what it’s worth, Nate’s a great kisser”

His eyes widened, and he nodded, voice falling low, “I’m sure he is”

You couldn’t stop. You wanted your words to stab him like little knives he’d dug into your skin all this while, “And for what it’s worth, I actually trust him” 

Hyunjin tensed up, fists clenching at the wheel. The train was just passing by, and the signal was so loud but you knew he heard you. “I’m…glad you trust him” He ended up saying. 

You watched him, observing every micro-expression. You could have played along, egged him on, made him believe it. He should hurt too, like you were, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this. Was it really so easy for him to move on? He was pretending like nothing ever affected him. Were you seriously the only one who had been invested in the two of you? You let out a laugh, “So that’s it?”

“What?” He looked at you.

“You don’t care? You really think I would just date…a random guy from my class? Because if you think that, you don’t—”

His brows shot up, “I’m sorry, so you’re not dating him? Why would you tell me you were?” 

“Do you care if I was?”

He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “Seriously? You know I still care about you, right?”

It pissed you off. He had no right to say something like that when he didn’t give a fuck about you. He had just abandoned you, with no intention of ever making up things, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I mean…everything you’ve done to me the past few months has shown me quite the opposite. That you don’t care”

His eyes widened, “Everything I’ve done to you?”

A scoff escaped you, and you were losing it, “I’m sure you had your reasons for never wanting to talk to me again. I, personally, would have just liked a goodbye or an explanation before you decided to leave. That’s just me though. But you know what? Maybe I read too much in what happened this summer”

He swallowed, shifting to look at you, “Look, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I didn’t know how to explain and I thought that you would understand—”

How the fuck could he expect you to understand? Your voice shot up, and everything you'd wondered over the past few months bubbled to the surface, “You…pushed me away, Hyunjin. You completely got rid of me! I’m sure you had your reasons, but I wasn’t okay. I’m still not fucking okay. It was a complete asshole move to block me for months with no explanation. I didn’t even know you’re capable of something like that, but you know what, it sucks to find out. In my head, I built you up to be some angel on a fucking pedestal. That was obviously my mistake” 

He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and you could see him grappling with what to say. It felt good to render him speechless. It took away from your embarrassment of knowing that Kairi and Chan could probably hear each second of this conversation. 

“Things were always going to end this way. You knew that, Y/N” The way he spoke pissed you off, like he had a rehearsed answer in his head and no real fucking emotions. Why could he just not tell you what he truly felt? Why was he trying so hard to be someone he was not?

A dry chuckle escaped you, and it was better you take out your anger on him because you felt like crying with each word you said, “No, I didn’t know that. if I knew that you were just going to disappear, I would have preferred never to know you”

His gaze burned through you, “Y/N…”

Somebody suddenly knocked on Hyunjin’s window, and you shook away your building tears. It was an officer, and Hyunjin rolled down the window, “Yes?”

He leaned in, not knowing what he was interrupting, “Excuse me? The signal’s running at a delay. There’s going to be a ten minute hold-up”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh okay”

He rolled the window back up, and looked back at you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even look at him. You hated him and his fucking nonchalance. You swallowed, “I need some air”

Before he could say something, you opened the door, stepping out. There would be a delay anyway, and hardly any cars were behind you. You walked to the side of the street, taking in a breath, willing yourself to not start fucking cry.

Another car door slammed shut behind you, and Hyunjin followed you out.

“Y/N—” He said, walking around the car, following you to the side.

Your emotions were brimming to the top, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would be petty, mean, childish but you deserved to get some answers.

You turned around, voice raising, “If I hadn’t moved to the city, you would have never met me again” It wasn’t a question. You knew he had no plans of returning to town anytime this century, “And you were just okay with that? With never seeing me again?”

He closed his eyes, his body towering over you, “It’s…not that simple”

“Yeah. It is. You didn’t even think I was worth an explanation…or a proper goodbye?”

“I…didn’t know what to say. You just have to believe when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“Really?” You scoffed, “You expect me to believe that…? You could’ve said anything.  Anything would have been better than what I got. Just tell me what's going on, please”

“Anything I said would have hurt you” His voice was shaking, like he was going to cry. How could he ever explain that he had picked his life over you? That you were the sacrifice he had decided to make?

You loved him, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason he cried but you had so many questions. Your voice was loud, in disbelief and frustration, “How is this any different? You cut me out of your life like it was nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing. It was just as hard for me as—”

“No, I’m not done talking. After losing you, moving to the city was the hardest thing I ever did. Leaving Daejon behind, all my friends…the only life I knew, and this place where I don’t really fit perfectly, but I’m trying so hard to. It is so hard. The only thing I love…I can’t even love that anymore because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you when I’m painting! It’s not fair. You had a choice, Hyunjin. I didn’t” Your voice broke.

“Before I saw you in the shop, I was this close to calling you up” He held up a small gap between his fingers, “I just…always ended up talking myself out of it”

A scoff escaped you, at the ridiculousness of his response, “I really have a hard time believing that”

“I don’t expect you to believe me anyway” He mumbled. You stared at him, crossing your arms, wondering how everything led to this, “I thought you were different, Hyunjin, from every other guy I’ve known in my life… but you…”

He stepped closer to you, running a hand through his hair, “What was I supposed to say to you, Y/N? That I never want to see you again? Do you think that would be easy for me to say?”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin! I don’t fucking know, but anything would have been better than what I got, because the person I knew would never have acted this drastically. So, were you just pretending in Daejon? Or are you pretending now? Because I’m having a real hard time telling who the real you is, Hyunjin—”

His eyes widened at those words, as if they personally struck him. He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process, “Y/N— Stop. I’m not…I never pretended with you”

His grip on you was firm, but enough that you could let go if you wanted. You looked up at him, and you were already so emotional, “Then why are you being so cold? You’ve been acting like you don’t care, but I don’t even know if you’re acting anymore. I feel like…I never saw the real you. That’s what you’re making me believe”

His closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words like they were the worst thing he could hear, “I’m sorry”

Your eyebrows knitted together, voice fading, “For…what?”

“For…changing my number and not telling you” He swallowed, and his hands held yours in between them like a prayer, “For…trying to push you away. For ignoring you in the shop”

His eyes glimmered with incoming tears, but he cleared his throat, and blinked them away, “I’m sorry I didn’t apologise until today”

You swallowed. You’d been waiting for an apology this whole time, but your heart still hurt. There wasn’t any explanation. You couldn’t…just believe him. Your heart squeezed so bad, it felt like a heart attack. You blinked away tears.

“There’s…a lot I want to talk to you about, but I can’t do it here” He swallowed, and there was a cloud of smoke when he talked, it was freezing outside but your heart felt dead, “You just have to believe me when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“I don’t understand…”

He closed his eyes, and the train at the signal crossing was still passing, giving you a few more moments of his vulnerability, “I’ve told you before. If we didn’t stop talking when we did…it would have led to something more that I can’t deny. I’m not going to regret my choices because I know why I made them. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always fucking care about you, it’s insane to even think anything else but…I can’t be in your life, and you can’t be in mine”

Tears threatened to shoot up, but you had some dignity clinging on so you said, “Then what is this? Why are you still being nice to me, making conversation? Why did you show up tonight? Why are you driving me home? If you don’t want me in your life, then just…stay out of it, Hyunjin”

He blinked, glossy eyes, and suddenly the car behind you honked. The train had passed, and you were free to cross.

His voice was shaking and this was the most emotion you’d seen in him in months, “I…couldn’t leave you at the party. It’s not safe…of course I had to drive you home. I would go insane if something happened to you”

You ripped your hands away from him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not your responsibility anymore”

»»————-

The rest of the ride was fucking horrible. You stared out the window the entire time, and Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Maybe it really was over now. What was left to salvage? You don’t know how much Kairi and Chan had heard, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were probably getting back together, which meant you couldn’t be a part of this anymore. If Kairi started hanging out with Chan again, you would obviously not be invited. Not after they witnessed you being such a bitch to their best friend. They were friends first, after all. You were the stranger.

“The next right turn” You mumbled, as you approached the street you lived on. Hyunjin brought the car to a stop. They were now awake in the backseat. You didn’t even know what to say. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbing your bag of things, avoiding eye contact with anybody, “Thank you for the ride home”

“I can walk you home” Chan offered.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a minute away” You replied, holding your bag to your chest.

“It’s really late out” Chan replied, insisting. You didn’t want to argue with him any further. The longer you argued, the longer you’d have to stay in this car, next to Hyunjin. He was looking at you, but he was pretending real hard not to. The eyes flickering back and forth, it couldn’t fool you. You’d become an expert on all things him. These secretive glances were all you had back then, so how could you not notice them now?

“Don’t worry about it, Chan” You replied, shooting them a smile so they believed you. Chan nodded, and you glanced at Kairi. She looked tired, but she was in his arms, so she was clearly very happy. She smiled warmly, and you wonder if they’d heard you breaking down. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Thank you for a perfect birthday, Y/N. You had a good time?”

“Of course.” You nodded. You were suffocating in here. You reached for the doorknob, but then you heard Hyunjin’s voice, “Good luck with class”

You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you’d die for it. You stepped out into the cold, glancing briefly back, “Yeah. Thanks.”

It didn’t matter because he had already looked away. It’s like he couldn’t bear to see you anymore.

»»————-

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your neighbour, Jeongin, stood in the doorway. You had been standing in the cold for a while, staring at the spot the car had been. It had driven off a while ago, but you could still picture it where it stood. The humming of the engine, the heat, the stupid 80s music stuck in your head. You had been so mean to him. He didn’t deserve it.

You looked at him in surprise, “You’re awake?”

“I work on European time” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. It was freezing cold, and you could feel it in your bones. It had never been this way back home. “Let’s just go inside” You spoke.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea” He smiled, pulling you in by your arm, “I was wondering how the party went”

You followed him up the stairs, feeling like a zombie in each step, “It was good. I missed you at it. You should have come”

“I’m sure Nate kept you plenty company” Jeongin laughed, “Are you going to go to sleep now?”

It was almost six am, and the sun was rising. You don’t think you could fall asleep with these thoughts in your head. You glanced at him, “Why? You got something in mind?”

He grinned, like he'd been waiting for you to ask him this. And so you spent the dawn with Jeongin, in his cosy apartment, struggling over a 1000-piece puzzle and downing the red wine he’d brought you. He didn’t ask you any questions, which was nice. You wouldn’t even know where to start. He was sweet and he was always smiling, telling you about his work and all the new video games he’d bought. You prolonged everything, asking more questions, anything to keep the focus on him. You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment and face your thoughts.

“How long have you been living here?” You asked. The window in his apartment was bigger than yours, facing out at the busy street, as the city woke up and came back to life.

“Almost my entire life. Moved here when I was twelve” He told you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be excited about this anymore, or about anything else. You missed your friends, the familiarity and comfort of them. You missed the diner, and it’s cheap coffee.

“Does it ever get easy?”

He laughed, “Honestly, no. Seoul…is hard to fall in love with, but once you do…you never go back”

You sighed, placing the final piece of the puzzle. You missed your art shop. It had always kept you safe and happy. If you knew it was going to be this hard leaving that behind, you would have thought twice, “I think…some people probably never get used to it. That makes me sad”

“Yeah?” He asked, “But you’re used to it now, aren’t you? You once told me it was written in the stars for you to come here”

“I don’t know if I believe in that anymore”

He relaxed on his couch, “I’m sure things will change. You’ll find something worth staying for”

You shrugged, pushing the puzzle to the side and it fell apart, all the pieces getting jumbled up. He didn’t complain about you ruining your hours worth of hard work. He just watched you grapple with your thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling hollow inside, “I think I made a mistake, Jeongin”

»»————-

Kairi had apparently found the best dessert shop in the city. She had pleaded you for hours until you’d decided to come. There were no seats inside the place, it was so busy, and so you and Kairi sat on a patio table outside. You looked around, as you swirled your hot coffee around. There were no leaves on the trees anymore. Winter had finally come.

“I’m going to bring Chris this when he gets back” She spoke, through a mouthful of brownie, “He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, but I know he will love this. I once baked the boys this cake for Jisung’s birthday, and Chris said he hated it, but I saw him eat all the leftovers later. He literally stole mine too!” She laughed.

“When he’s back from where?”

“Oh, right. They’re in Japan. They had a flight the morning after my birthday, remember? Well, they’re supposed to show up at an event in Tokyo, and then they come back home for a few days, until they go back again. It’s the end of the season so there’s a bunch of award shows” She told you, sprinkling sugar crystals into her coffee. You didn’t know that they were in an entirely different country, “Must be hard. All the flying back and forth”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, “Not really. They’re used to it at this point. It’s tiring, but…in their line of work, they have to learn to adjust”

Maybe that was your biggest flaw. You couldn’t adjust. To a different life, to new friends, to a new bed. To a life without him. 

“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday”

Her eyes widened, and she kept her cup of coffee down, “What are you talking about? You’re the one that made it perfect. You made it happen in the first place!”

“Yeah, but…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed, “You must have heard us”

She swallowed, “I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t my business to.”

You looked up at her, “Chan must hate me”

“What? Why would he?”

You looked down, “I’m…an asshole”

She reached ahead, grabbing your hand, “No one thinks you’re an asshole”

You let out a sigh, and you didn’t believe her, but there was no point arguing. 

The next week, the boys flew back home. You only knew because Kairi told you. She had been counting down the days till they returned. She invited you out to a small get-together, but they would all be there. You said no. 

Slowly, all your plans with Kairi became into plans with Kairi and Chan. You wouldn’t mind at all, because you loved Chan. You just hated that he almost always came with Hyunjin. So you never went to any of those. He would be grateful. He probably never wanted to see you again either. Your time with Kairi became divided. You didn’t blame her. She was in love, and you wouldn’t deny her any time with him. It became obvious how much happier she was around him.

A week later, you realised you still had Hyunjin’s sweater that he’d given to you at the party. So, you washed it and returned it to Kairi, hoping he wasn’t angry that you kept it with you for so long. You’d truthfully forgotten. You wouldn’t want to keep anything of his longer than you had to anyway. 

»»————-

Nate was staring in awe at your painting. It was balanced on the easel, and you stood next to it, embarrassed at the attention it got. Nate laughed in disbelief, “Holy shit. That’s…beautiful. When did you get the time to make that?”

It was show-and-tell day. You were almost in the middle of your semester, and you were supposed to display your best work in class. You looked back at your painting. Ever since Kairi’s birthday, you hadn’t left your room. You’d been fixated on this. There was only one good thing left for you here, and it was this opportunity. You’d do anything to grasp at it, and maybe all your sadness and heartbreak had ended up being perfect inspiration. You had been endlessly inspired, each brushstroke came to you so easily. Perhaps all good art did come from suffering. Your best work to date you’d done when feeling your worst. You’d sniffled, and cried and fought your way through it.

“I…found time” You shrugged. Your hands were folded behind your back as you explained it to every single person who passed it. All the easels were set up in a circle, and it was almost like those expensive Château classes you could never afford to go to. Nate smiled at you, tilting his head, “You’re so mysterious. It suits you”

“I’m really not trying to be” You replied, “It just…came to me”

His eyes trailed over you. You’d tried to dress your best, an outfit you’d bought off the fancy boutiques, and it had cost you a fortune but none of your own clothes would fit the vibe. Nate’s voice dropped, “Is it weird if I say that you being coy is a turn-on?” 

You smiled at him, wondering why his words had no effect on you. He made you feel wanted. He flirted with you endlessly. He was attracted to you. He actually wanted to talk to you. 

But you knew that was all. He didn’t want to date you. He certainly didn’t have any intentions of a relationship. Perhaps, you didn’t want to just be wanted anymore. 

“Mmh. It’s…a little weird” You teased him.

Kim Jieong approached you, and you straightened up, pulling Nate to the side. He glanced at your painting, and he certainly looked impressed. There was a small smile on his lips, and he was observing your art with all the focus in the world, “How many hours did you spend on this?”

“Maybe…twenty”

He laughed at your feeble attempt of lying, “That looks like…it took a hundred, at the least. Is it all you did this week?”

You nodded, “That’s what I’m here for”

He looked at your painting again, “As your professor, I have to say that I wish you hadn’t sacrificed sleep for this, but…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping, “This is exactly why I picked you, sweetheart”

Your eyes widened, not used to this proximity, but you felt so special. He hadn’t said this to anybody else. He was far too close to you, but you blinked at him, “Are you proud of me?”

He laughed, lifting a finger up, “You’re not there yet”

Your face fell.

“I’ll be proud of you if you can get that done in a day” He smiled wide, hands clasped behind his back, “You should start preparing for next week. I want you to make something special. If you win, it’d mean a lot for you, Y/N”

You nodded, remembering the assignment. The best painting in the class would be chosen for a prize. A scholarship, and the chance to get your work displayed in Seoul Museum of Art. It would certainly make everything much easier, taking the burden off you, and you’d also get a perfect start. You would finally be able to prove your worth here.

»»————-

You’d been painting all day, and your clothes were ruined with stains. You were working on the assignment for next week, it had to be perfect to win, and you hadn't got much sleep, completely immersing yourself into this. In a little break, you laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the call to go through. Yeonjun picked up your phone call, and he sounded so happy on the other end. It had been a while since you’d talked to him and he apologised, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. There was a company retreat last week, and we went out to these cabins in the woods. It was straight from a horror movie, and there was no network there. I took some pictures for you though”

“How did it go? That sounds nice, to be away from everything”

He laughed, “It was. I missed you though. But…I have some news to tell you…something happened”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the girl from my work I said was cute? She…kissed me. We actually, ended up making out in the hot tub. It was really fucking nice” You could imagine him smiling on the other end, and it warmed your heart. You sat up, smiling, “Are you serious? That’s so…amazing. So…you guys made out? Is that all that happened?”

He laughed on the other end, “No. We…slept together. Every night of the retreat”

Your eyes widened, “You’re kidding me. So, you really really like this girl”

“I mean, yeah, things with her are so…simple and easy. She gets me, and she’s so fun to be around. Sometimes that’s just how it has to be”

You thought of the polaroids on his desk of Hana, “Did she never ask about the pictures on your work desk?”

Yeonjun laughed nervously, “I…ended up taking those down. It’s easier to move on that way. I mean, I won’t ever be over her, but…it’s a start”

“Yeah. You’re probably right”

“I may have discovered a new kink about myself” He joked, “I have an urge to just move to that cabin and live in that hot tub forever”

You smiled, “Maybe you should”

“How about you though?”

“Well…I’ve been trying to make my magnum opus. If I have the best painting in class, I get to win this insane amount of money for a scholarship, and…it’ll be perfect”

“Well, you’re obviously going to win. I already know you’re the best in class”

You smiled, “I appreciate your faith in me…I think I’m going to start working on it in the classroom. It’s going to be a really big canvas, and there’s not much space in my apartment”

“That makes sense. And um, I wanted to ask, how are things with…Hyunjin? Did you guys ever talk after you saw him in the shop?”

You lay back down, and the lie was on easy on your tongue, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since then”

“Wow. He…hasn’t even reached out to you?”

You shrugged, echoing his words from before, “I don’t care. It’s easier to move on that way”

»»————-

Your canvas lay across multiple tables, occupying most of the space in your classroom. You’d joined them all together, it had taken a lot of strength, but it was worth it. Now, you sat on top of the paper cross-legged in the center. It was easier to work this way, as if the entire floor was your painting. You hope you weren’t breaking any rules by being in the classroom after hours. You’d just wanted some time to work on your painting, and you weren’t exactly inspired at your place. Your anger from the past few days had manifested into this; an insane obsession to make this your best work ever. You would prefer that over sadness. This, after all, was the only reason you’d come here. Not for him. It was almost midnight, and you scooted across the canvas, filling in more details of your sketch. Your plan was far too ambitious, but you were going to have to go all out to win the contest. It was the only thing you cared about right now.

“I didn’t know anybody was in here” The voice made you jump. Nobody was supposed to come in here right now, the building was shut down. You glanced up, watching Kim Jieong walk in, and you smiled at him, “Professor. Hi”

His eyes narrowed in on your silhouette, and a familiar smile across his face, “Oh, it’s you. What…in god’s name are you doing on top of the tables?”

“Um, my canvas is pretty big, so I thought it’d be easier to work like this” You explained. He laughed loudly, “You’re adorable, Y/N. You know that?”

You sat back down comfortably, realising he would let you stay here, “Um. Thank you, professor”

He looked around, “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you. Why is it so dark in here though? I can hardly see you"

Adjusting your canvas and brushes around it, you spoke, “I like it that way. I think much better in the dark, the lights were too bright. Plus, the moonlight looks really nice”

You think he smiled at your words but you couldn’t tell in the dark. You could barely see him, just his silhouette and you heard him laugh. You heard his footsteps as he approached his own desk, “So, we’re far from the final project. I’m curious why you’re in the studio”

You bit your lip, feeling anxious about all this effort you were putting in, “I’m working on the contest painting. The scholarship…I really want to try my best. I also don’t work too well at my apartment, I thought maybe I could work here”

“When I got a notification that a student was still in the studio, I was curious. I had to cut my dinner short”

“Oh” You blinked, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it notified you…”

“Of course, it’s for the safety of our students” He smiled, stepping towards your workspace, “Would you indulge me in what you’re working on…or is it a surprise?”

Your canvas wasn’t ready to show, “I’d prefer if you see it when it’s finished”

He laughed, and asked, “May I sit next to you?”

“Oh, you won’t be getting back to your dinner?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, I’d like to stay here with you”

He was perhaps the only person in the world you wanted to be around right now, so you didn’t mind. His presence would calm and comfort you, “Of course. That’d be fine with me, professor”

He pulled a stool up close to your workspace. The greenhouse-studio was deathly quiet and he inched closer to your table. You stared at your big sketch, “I’m really sorry about interrupting your dinner. I thought it’d be fine if I let myself in”

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. My wife was pretty tired anyway. Just gave us a reason to end the night early”

He was at dinner with his wife? You didn’t even know he was married, but he was in his late thirties so it made sense. You continued adding details, but you couldn’t focus when he was observing you so close. Thankfully the dark could conceal your expressions and embarrassment. You ought to feel proud. The greatest artist in the country was here to watch you paint.

“Have you…eaten dinner yet?” You heard him ask. You glanced up, gesturing to the side of the classroom where your leftovers lay, “Yeah, I had some chinese takeout. Although when I’m painting, I don’t get hungry for hours.”

He just hummed in response. You were grateful that your mentor wanted to sit with you so badly that he skipped dinner with his wife. But the other part disliked the supervision, and you did want some alone time. Still, he was the greatest living artist, so you’d learn to adjust to it. After everything that had happened, he was also your only hope of making it big in the city. He was the sole reason you were still here, spending thousands just to stay in Seoul so you could attend the classes. You looked at him, and he was admiring you while you worked, so you said, “I might be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep you"

He frowned, “I don’t mind staying. I could get some work done too”

“Oh…sure” You looked back at your sketch, erasing off a mistake. He stood up, walking towards the cabinet, sifting through canvases. Usually, you weren’t awkward around him, but right now it was really late and you were tired to make small talk. But it’d be weirder if you just stayed quiet. You felt a need to fill in the silence with anything, “So, Professor, um…your wife. How did you meet her?”

He shrugged in your peripheral vision, not particularly excited to answer, “The usual. We were high school sweethearts. Got married as soon as we graduated. I was too focused on my art to pursue other women anyway”

You nodded. Well, that made it even more awkward. So you kept going, “Right. Wow. High school, that’s really cool. Was she…any of the inspirations for your paintings?”

“Some of them, yes”

“That’s really nice.” You smiled, sketching out the boundaries for the stars. The idea for this painting had come to you after waking from a dreamless sleep. You’d ended up researching for it for hours, making sure you were portraying accurate art. You couldn’t wait to present your concept next week.

“What about you?” He asked.

“Sorry?” 

“You have a boyfriend?”

You blinked, a nervous laugh escaping you, “Um…not currently. I’m also…I guess, trying to focus on my art, and build a career from it”

He smiled at you, crossing his arms, “Guess we’re more alike than I thought”

You looked back at your canvas as he walked closer to you, “The temptation to understand your sketch is a lot. Can you give me a hint as to what it’s about?”

You slid your sketchbook towards him, where you’d drawn up a miniature version of the sketch, “All I can tell you now is that it’s…a landscape, inspired by my time in the city so far. I was walking home the other night and I couldn’t help but notice the night sky. I’ve always liked it, and I know it’s been overdone in art, but I wanted to explore a new side of it. Someone once told me that there’s no stars in the city, which just…sounds so sad. I was thinking along the lines of that. What do you think so far?”

He pushed his glasses up, a proud smile on his face, “I think that…I’m incredibly lucky to have you. I can't wait to see what you'll do with this”

Your eyes widened, unsure how to respond, “Um…I mean, we’re the lucky ones. We get to study under you, Professor”

He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty studio, “Stop calling me Professor. I think you and me are way past that, don’t you?”

“It’s…only appropriate.” You frowned, going back to work. That was weird. You don't think you would feel comfortable calling him by his first name. And then, you felt another stupid need to fill in the prolonged silence. He was here watching you after all, you could just ask him all the things you’d wondered for years, “Um, I wanted to ask. The painting about the moons. Celestial Fatality. Did you paint that when you were in college?”

He hummed mindlessly, not really answering your question, then he grabbed your sketchbook off the table. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at it, "I think you can work on your perspective, but these are nice. These hands. You’ve drawn them countless times”

“Yeah” You felt embarrassed, and climbed off the table so you could also see what he was looking at, “It’s a friend from back home”

“Did you draw these from observation?” He asked, as you joined him at his side.

“Hmm. He really wanted me to draw his hands,” You said, recalling the time Hyunjin made you observe them.

Kim Jieong laughed, “Can’t blame him”

A nervous laugh escaped you at those words, “Yeah.” What did he mean by that? You reached to get your sketchbook back. Instead of handing it to you though, he sat down on the desk, turning the pages of your book, “These ones are pretty good too”

“Yeah” You nodded, taking a seat next to him, unsure of what to do, “I made those a while ago”

As he turned another page, something drifted out, landing on the floor. Your eyes widened, and you reached for it. The photobooth strip pictures of you and Hyunjin. You felt embarrassed, but thankfully, Kim Jieong didn’t notice or see them fall out. You grabbed them, hiding them between your palms on your lap. There was nothing wrong with him seeing them, but…it was embarrassing and stupid to carry around pictures of a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 

“You’re very talented” Kim Jieong spoke again, voice dropping low.

“Oh…thank you. It means a lot hearing it from someone like you” 

He finally put your sketchbook to the side, looking right at you. He did look kind of intimidating in this light, towering over you, “This scholarship means a lot to you?”

You swallowed, feeling embarrassed, “Yeah. I could use the help. It’s an expensive life here, and I’d really appreciate it. Plus, the exhibition would be a great kickstart to…a career”

“The others don’t need the scholarship. They just want it so they can win” He said, then leaned forward, “Don’t the rich kids get on your nerves sometimes? They don’t act out of necessity, but you…” He pointed a soiled paintbrush at you, “You’re wonderful because… you’re desperate”

“I’m sorry?”

“Desperate to be seen, and respected. As an artist, I mean. I don’t mean that badly, but all great inventions are born out of necessity. I think that’s why you stand out from the rest”

You didn’t know how to take this compliment, “I guess”

“You know you have the potential to go so many places?” He asked, tilting his head, waving your sketchbook about in one hand. It was so dark in here, and the building was completely empty except for the two of you. This…felt increasingly inappropriate. You were in the studio after-hours with your professor and he was far too close for comfort. He was your favourite artist…but he was still a grown man and you didn’t want to overstep as a student.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged and stepped closer to you, caging you against the table, “I mean, the right people can get you into any exhibition you dream of in the world. Paris, New York, Seoul. Isn’t that what you fantasise?”

An awkward chuckle escaped you. He was far too close to you, “Yeah. That’s the end goal. The scholarship…would definitely make it easier to get there”

Suddenly, the sound of roaring thunder distracted you and you looked to the windows. The clouds had now hidden the moon, casting a dark shadow over the entire art studio. A chill ran up your spine, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable at his proximity.

“Um..I think the last bus home leaves in twenty minutes. I’ll try to catch it” You stated, shooting him a smile and standing up.

You took your bag, but Kim Jieong grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him, “You can always convince me”

“Sorry?” You fumbled, stupidly. You…had to have heard him wrong. What was he talking about?

He smiled sweetly, and in the dark, his glasses glittered, “If you won the scholarship, the other students wouldn’t question it, you’ve already proven your worth to everyone”

“Right” You were unsure what he was trying to say, or hinting at. What the fuck did he mean by saying that you could convince him? “I should really go”

“It’s pouring. You’ll catch your death out there, Y/N” He stated, pointing to the storm outside. You swallowed, his grip on your arm foreign, “That’s fine. I have an umbrella”

“Ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride home” He shook his head.

“You really don’t have to. I already feel bad for ruining your dinner”

“Oh, stop apologising, Y/N. Your sweet talk drives me mad sometimes” His hand moved from your arm to your waist, wrapping around it and he pulled you closer to his body, "You stress too much. You need to learn to let things go”

You took a step back, unsure how to process this, “Professor…”

He closed the distance, and his other hand grabbed your chin, voice low in the dark room, “Why do you seem so nervous? You don’t have to be around me. We’re just talking, aren’t we?”

“Right” You were having a hard time breathing, panic surging through you. He was right. Of course. He was your professor. He would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He was a living legend. You shouldn’t be nervous. He was just being kind to you. He was the only person you’d looked up to your entire life, the reason you’d tried so hard to come here, and he would never do something wrong.

“I can see you struggling in class, and I know you’re doing everything you can to prove your worth. I’ve asked you this before, about what your dream is. ” He spoke, voice as low as a whisper, fingers gripping your jaw. 

“I…I don’t know what you mean” Your voice was shaking from the nerves, with no fucking idea how to navigate this situation. If you pushed him away, you’d lose all chance of winning the prize.

“Well….whatever it is” He smiled sweetly, and in the low light he looked less like the mentor you’d grown up loving and more menacing, “All you have to do…is ask me”

His eyes flickered to your lips, and back to your eyes. His grip on your waist was so tight, it felt like his palm was burning into your skin through your shirt. Had you somehow given him an alluded hint? He took a step even closer.

“I’m sorry….” You pushed him just enough so he wasn’t holding you anymore.

He looked surprised, eyes wide, and he laughed, “Y/N…What are you doing?” You grabbed your bag in a hurry, “I’m sorry. I should really go. The last bus…”

He called after you, but you rushed through the glass doors to the emergency stairwell. You didn’t want to be stuck in the elevator with him. You couldn’t breathe, legs moving off their own accord. A flash of lightning through the glass windows scared you, and you all but ran down the emergency stairwell, bag hanging off your shoulder, fists clenched. What the fuck. He obviously wasn’t making a move on you, right? You were just being paranoid. He was your professor. He was…the most famous artist in Seoul. He was the kindest person ever. You had to have been reading into things. 

You pushed the heavy door open, walking out onto the street. It was pouring rain, and you let out a breath, taking in the air. The rain soaked through your clothes, and you were shivering. You wanted to call Hyunjin so he could pick you up and so you could cry in his arms, the only place where you'd feel safe, but he'd never even given you his new number. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. You looked down at your hands, and in your tension…you’d completely crushed the photobooth strip to pieces. 

Raindrops slowly trickled down, tracing the ruined paper in your palm. The only memory left of you and Hyunjin was now gone.

»»————-

You didn’t show up to class the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

You were still trying to wrap your head around it. Were you stupid for declining his advances and whatever he was suggesting? You couldn’t go back to class and face him. You’d be too embarrassed of your reaction. Maybe he wasn’t even suggesting anything and you jumped to conclusions. You had to have been imagining things. After all, he didn't actually do anything. Still, you’d ruined all your chances of getting the scholarship and succeeding in his class. What if he brought it up in class? What would the others think?

Your body was shaking from the cold. The heating in your apartment wasn’t working, so you sat on the floor, back to the kitchen counter, knees pulled up. You’d forgotten your huge canvas in class too, and it was probably in the garbage by now.

Your phone buzzed loudly, and Felix was calling. You picked up so he wouldn’t worry, but your voice sounded hollow, “Yes?”

“Babe. Where have you been? You’re not answering any texts the past week”

“I’m sorry…I got caught up in things. Is everything okay, Felix?”

“More than okay” He smiled on the other end, “I’m at the diner. They’re throwing a big party tonight! Apparently, it’s been ten years since it opened! Can you believe it?”

“Wow…it feels like we’d been going there our whole life”

“That’s what I said!” His excited voice came in, “So anyway for their anniversary celebration…all the drinks and food is free. You best believe I’m making full use of it”

You could hear so many familiar voices in the back, “Who all is there…?”

“Umm…well me and Minho, obviously. Hana’s here too. Seonmi, Eunbi and the others. Seungmin’s here as well.”

“Wow…I really wish I was there, Felix”

“Mm, I wish that too. Your apprenticeship better be worth it, Y/N. You’re missing all the good stuff. And everybody in Daejon misses you a lot. Mrs. Aera came up to me today and said the shop’s a mess without you haha”

“Really? It is? Mina isn’t taking care of it?”

“Ah, you know how Mina is. She can’t organise for the life of her. That shop was basically running because of you” He laughed, and you could hear him chew something.

“What are you eating?”

“Blueberry-chocolate waffles. There’s this new recipe Seonmi is trying out, and it’s so good. You should have it when you come back. How about you, love? Are you missing me a lot?”

“So much” You mumbled.

“Kim Jieong better be worth it” He sighed, “I guess I forgive you because you’ve been obsessed with him for years. Is he as dreamy as you imagined?”

“Um…” Your gut hurt, the memory of that night flooding through you, “Yeah. He’s…great”

“I’m sure he is” Felix chuckled, “I still remember how you stole all the magazines in the library that had his paintings in it”

“I didn’t steal them” You protested, “I just…borrowed them for a really long time”

He laughed, “To fawn all over your artist crush. I get it. And…what about your other lover? You accidentally bumped into him yet?”

You forced a smile, not having enough energy to protest that he wasn’t your lover, “No…I haven’t seen him”

“Well. Seoul isn’t that big, I’m sure you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. Oh, I also forgot to tell you! A new cafe opened up in Daejon last week. It’s some fusion book-and-coffee cafe. They actually have the best coffee in town, no you didn’t hear me say that Seonmi” He started laughing, and you could hear them in the background. Suddenly, the past few months felt like a joke.

There were only two reasons you’d uprooted your life and come here. Now, you’d lost them both. 

So why were you still here?

Maybe you had acted rashly. You thought you’d fit in here, and that this was where you were meant to be. You’d felt stuck there, but here you weren’t any better. You'd probably only found the courage to come here because you knew Hyunjin was here too, and that was clearly...not the right thing to do. He didn't even want you near him, or anywhere in his life. He had made that plenty clear.

“I think I made a mistake” You whispered.

“Sorry?” Felix asked, still laughing loudly, “What mistake?”

“Moving out…I shouldn’t have done that”

“Wait…what? What do you mean?”

“I think I should come home”

“You’re messing with me. Right?” Felix laughed, “Didn’t you want to move to the city since you were fifteen?”

“But I was a kid. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what to expect”

“Y/N…what are you saying?”

“I was happy in Daejon. I should never have come to Seoul” You stood up, moving to your bedroom.

It was like a parasite, an idea festering into your brain and heart, that maybe this was the reason for this unhappiness. Things were perfect in Daejon. Why had you been complaining all your life? All of your happy memories were there, so the logical thing to do…was go back to where they were created. Then you’d be happy again. You hadn’t learnt how to be happy in this house, in this city, in this new life. 

“Babe. I would be the happiest boy in the world if you came home to me, but maybe you should think this through. Did something happen? Why are you being like this?”

You grabbed your duffel bag off the shelf, “I can’t go back to class, Felix! I can’t. I messed up, big time”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You could never—”

“You don’t even know what happened!” You yelled. He fell silent on the other end, “Love. Just…what’s going on?”

You stared at your empty bag, “I’m…coming home. I should never have come here”

“Is that Y/N?” Minho’s familiar, comforting voice came in. You wanted to hug him and never let go. They were so far away. “Yeah” Felix responded to him, voice falling, “She says she’s…coming home”

“Give me the phone” Minho mumbled, “Y/N. What’s going on?”

You tossed your clothes in your bag, messily zipping it up, “I can’t stay here, Min”

“But what about the art classes?”

“If I don’t withdraw, I’ll probably be kicked out anyway” You mumbled, “I didn’t go to classes all week"

“You should think this through”

“I have thought it through! It was a stupid fucking mistake. One I needed to make. You know what they say anyway. The grass is greener on the other side. I just fell for the charms of the city, like everybody else”

“No disrespect but you’re making no sense” Minho’s voice was harsh, “You can’t just give up”

“Can you give the phone back to Felix please?” You asked.

“Fine” You heard it being passed around and then his voice came in, “Love. I’m here”

“Lix” You swallowed, “I know it seems like I’m being irrational, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know it’s embarrassing and stupid, but maybe I was never supposed to be here”

Felix’s voice was so soft, calm, encouraging. You just needed to be near him, in his arms. “I believe you, Y/N. I’m gonna be okay with whatever you decide. I just really want you to think about this”

“I…I want to hug you, Lix” A sniffle escaped you, “I don’t want to go back to class” The idea had completely taken over you.

“Are you sure?”

“Nothing can make me stay” You swallowed. There was a sigh of resignation on the other end, and you knew he wouldn’t fight with you. He would agree with whatever you decided, and that’s what you needed right now. That’s why you called him, and not Yeonjun, or your other friends. Felix was the one person who wanted you home more than anything. He wouldn’t talk you out of it, even if this seemed like the stupidest decision you might be making. 

“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice soft on the other end. Relief spread through you, and you stopped to look at the window outside your apartment, “A train ticket.”

You could sublease your apartment. You could figure the rest out from the comfort of your real home. You could go back to Aera’s, and get your life in order. You’d find a way to love Felix back. After all, he was the only one who wanted you the way you needed to be wanted. Maybe you were destined for that kind of life after all, where everything stays the same everyday. But that’s good, it was safe. The boy you loved had made you think that you belonged in the city, but he couldn't be more wrong.

That’s what you told yourself, at least, ripping your paintings off the wall. In your short-lived time here, you’d made and put them up to feel less lonely. There’d be no room to carry them back, so you bunched them up, carrying them to the garbage disposal in your apartment. As you shoved them in the disposal, you felt nothing. The hallway was warmer than your apartment and it made you feel a tad better.

Your phone buzzed again, and Felix had sent you something. The train ticket he’d bought for you. It was for tomorrow morning. You knew that you could always trust Felix, with anything. He would always be there for you, if nothing else. Perhaps you'd taken your friendship with him for granted this whole time.

“Need some help?” Jeongin asked. He was coming up the stairs, probably after having heard your struggle with the garbage. You shot him a smile, nodding. He came over, helping you, “Are you redecorating?”

“You could say that…”

“Wait. Are these your paintings?” He realised, stopping halfway.

“Can you help me with something?” You looked at him. He looked confused, and he was frowning, “Um. Sure. What do you need help with?”

“My suitcases…I don’t think the elevator is working”

“Are you going somewhere?” He tilt his head, further confusion scrunching his face. In another life, you and Jeongin could have been really good friends. 

“I’m just going home for a while” You mumbled, shutting the garbage door. For a while would be forever. He didn’t need to know that. It’s not like he would be sad, or miss your presence. 

“Oh. Okay. Of course, I’ll be there in a bit”

Back in your apartment, your phone buzzed again. It was your groupchat with Jeonghan and Minnie. You skimmed through the messages, feeling regretful.

yn are you sick? what’s going on? professor jieong told us you weren’t eligible for the prize anymore

You turned your phone off, staring outside the little kitchen window. The traffic wasn’t as loud as usual. It was a quiet night.

You hugged yourself, trying to find a singular reason to stay. Why had you wanted this life for so long? It had given you nothing but heartbreak, yet a part of you was so sad about leaving tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear escaping. Maybe you wanted a sign to stay, despite everything in you screaming to leave. When you opened you eyes, your reflection mirrored on the glass pane and then you saw it.

A snowflake drifting down. It twirled in place and your eyes followed its path before it settled on your ledge, quickly crumbling into nothingness.

And then more followed, a flurry of snow falling like stardust. It was beautiful, a cloud of white enveloping everything so quickly, covering the street below. 

Your first snow in the city. 

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. 

The doorbell rang.

Jeongin was already here to help you with the bags. 

So much for a sign.

You grabbed your duffel, and your suitcase, wheeling it out. The quicker you moved with things, the easier it would be. Reaching for the rusty brass doorknob, you pulled the door open.

“Can you take this one? I’ll bring the other” You mumbled, pushing your things out. He nodded, still seemingly confused but he asked no questions, “What time’s your train?”

“In a few hours” You glanced at your phone, “But if there’s going to be a snowstorm, I’d prefer being at the station early…”

He grinned, still so happy and you wish he could share his secrets of eternal happiness, “Smart move. If it was me, I’d probably miss my train. Can’t tell you how many times that’s happened”

You smiled at him, “I can’t afford that”

“I called a taxi cab for you” He said. You nodded, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Jeongin”

You stepped back into your apartment. There wasn’t much you’d brought with you, so there wasn’t much you had to take back. You’d never grown fond of this apartment. It had always felt like an inbetween place, while you waited your life to be perfect. Waiting was doing no favours for you.

You shoved your sketchbook into your duffel, putting on your coat before closing the apartment door behind you, and your throat closed up as you realised what you were doing. This was so fucking stupid, and this was rash but what else could you even do? Maybe you could come back to the city in the future if you wanted, but right now it was a terrible decision. You would go back home and you would hug Felix, and maybe you would kiss him and the ache in your heart would be better. The thought of his arms around you, as someone who genuinely cared about you, already made you want to cry.

You unceremoniously dragged your bag across the landing, and the taxi must have arrived already because you heard a loud honk.

It was freezing in the otherwise heated hallway. Your breaths came out in soft mists.

The door downstairs must have been left open, sending cold winds and flurries of snowflakes up the apartment. 

Jeongin would never forget to do that…

As you approached the top step with your bags, you realised who’d left it open.

Draped in a beige trench coat, cheeks red from the cold, Hyunjin stood at the bottom of your staircase.

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #skz x reader #fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #fanfiction #skz imagines

[ddarker-dreams]

Idée Fixe.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Warnings: Some not SFW elements, yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, emotional manipulation, depictions of general & social anxiety disorder, depictions of a panic attack, mentions of anxiety medication, Chrollo administers medications to Reader without her consent, and mentions of religion. Also Chrollo just really, really sucks. Word count: 12.3k.

You met a strange man at the arboretum today.

Perhaps you aren’t in a position to describe others as ‘strange’, considering your latest proclivity for expressing earnest thanks to any honey bees you happen across for their service. After much contemplation, however, it’s ultimately the word you arrive at. ‘Strange’ not in a disconcerting sense that inspires fear, but just being out of the ordinary enough to exude an undeniable allure. A raised panel on the floor you stumble over yet suffer no serious injury from. 

Well-kept gardens might be the closest imitation to heaven on earth. That’s what brought you to this little oasis hidden in the desert that is urban life. It’s the type of day romanticists wax poetic about: baby blue skies, puffy clouds, and moderate temperatures with a light, forgiving breeze. 

You situated yourself strategically, so you’d be beneath the shade of a magnolia tree whose pink petals kept fluttering down as if in greeting, and near a patch of daffodils that matched the shade of your gingham dress. Blades of grass tickle your legs, but not unpleasantly so, they scratch an itch found only in nature’s loving reprieve. There’s no thought of upcoming assignments, what to eat for dinner, or if buying that purse you thought was a steal at 30% off was a good idea or not. 

It’s just you and your book. 

Until it isn’t. 

Every woman is connected in the experience that is trepidation whenever a man randomly approaches. There’s no telling his intentions, if he has any. You’re left to smile awkwardly and temporarily realign yourself with religion by praying to a higher deity for his hasty departure. You map out potential escape routes and recall the pepper spray situated in your impulse-bought purse. He gently calls out “Miss”, confirming that he hopes to speak with you. 

At least he has the propriety to stop a few paces from where you sit, electing not to intrude on your personal space. This causes your shoulders to relax. In the few seconds you’ve been made aware of his existence, you recognize his appealing features. He has loose, dark hair, along with wide and seemingly unassuming eyes. His outfit of a dark gray turtleneck accompanied by a black jacket and pants somewhat strikes you as odd, considering spring is in full bloom. Two other details steal your attention away from this; those being the beige wrapping around his forehead and his spherical, turquoise-colored earrings. It’s like he was caught undecided between wanting and not wanting to attract attention. 

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he begins. You try not to think about how pleasant his voice sounds. “I’ve been trying to make sense of the directory, but I’ve never been the best with directions. Do you by any chance know how to get to the Starling House?” 

You nod. It’s a quaint, centuries-old mansion, maintained by the non-profit that oversees the flora here. Getting over the initial apprehension from his approach, you try verbalizing the most efficient path to get there. This proves more difficult than you expected since the arboretum is vast and has few waypoints that can be used for reference. Still, throughout your explanation whose unhelpfulness you grow painfully aware of, he patiently nods and makes no attempts to rush you through. 

This willingness to put up with your scattered description wins over your sympathy, pushing you past your sheepishness. 

“I guess I’m not good at giving directions. I could just show you the way, if you’d like.” 

“I’d hate to disturb your reading, but… if it isn’t a bother, I’d certainly appreciate it.” 

You’re already setting your bookmark into place. “It’s no bother. This is my second time reading it, anyway. So don’t worry. I’m not being left off on a cliffhanger or anything.” 

He smiles at that. When you’re preparing to stand, he extends his hand, a gesture that gives you a momentary pause. Well, you are wearing a dress. You suppose it’s the polite thing for him to do. You accept his unspoken offer and he hoists you up without the least bit of exertion on his part. His hand is warm and bigger than yours, slightly coarse too, surprisingly. His immaculate presentation gave you the impression of a trust fund kid or something in that vein. He’s tasteful in ensuring his touch doesn’t overstay its welcome. 

Your heart pounds in your chest. 

You catch a hint of his cologne. Sandalwood, amber, and leather blend together to form a delightfully woody fragrance. As amazing as he smells, you create a little distance, walking ahead motioning for him to follow. His longer legs have no trouble catching up, yet he never creeps too close. 

The short journey that you expect to only be accompanied by the sounds of cardinals chirping and house finches singing is interrupted by the man speaking up again. Oddly enough, you don’t mind. 

“Do you find your thoughts on Prince Myshkin’s initially endearing simple heartedness changed, knowing how the book ends?” 

You pause, taking a moment to realize he must be familiar with the work. This revelation fills you with a tentative giddiness. It isn’t often you have a chance to delve into your literary thoughts to a willing audience. There’s plenty more you could say on the subject, but you try to exercise restraint nonetheless. 

“I thought I might, but I found myself more critical of the other characters instead.” 

“Oh? And why is that?” 

He appears genuinely interested, otherwise, you would’ve kept it at that. 

“Ah, well, maybe it’s that they serve as proof that innocence is never meant to last. Or if it does, it’ll inevitably be punished. There are moments where I feel frustrated with the Prince’s naivety… but then I stop and wonder why it’s so bad to want to see the best in people. Does that speak to a flaw in his character, or to a flaw in the character of others? Maybe it’s both. I can’t help but feel the Prince’s case is more sympathetic.” 

His eyes never leave yours while you give your answer. Heat rises to your cheeks and you internally groan over the prospect of making a stranger listen to your ramblings. He was probably just looking to make casual conversation, not everyone wants an existential crisis on a Saturday afternoon. 

“You must be someone who wants to see the best in people as well,” he surmises. There’s no hint of mockery in his tone — he’s oddly sincere. He says it with a hint of bittersweet nostalgia. 

Before you can hazard a response, you come across a sign displaying information for an event at the Starling House. The building itself lies in waiting atop a hill less than a quarter of a mile ahead. He stops to read it, as do you, operating under the assumption he came here for the event. It seems that they’re displaying historic artifacts from around the area. You suppose this will be where you part ways. You’re about to wish him well when he sighs, the miffed noise stopping you. 

“I got the time wrong,” he frowns, staring at his wristwatch. 

The sign says the event begins at 6:00 p.m. and a quick tap of your phone reveals it’s 4:00. 

“If you’re looking for a way to burn time, there’s a nice garden behind the House that’s always open to the public,” you explain. This piques his curiosity. “If the sage is in bloom, you might get lucky and see some hummingbirds.” 

“That does sound lovely,” he says. Then, his lips quirk up, promising the start of a smile. “Would you care to join me, Miss…?” 

You give him your name and he nods, as if deciding it fits you. 

“[First]. I understand if my tour guide wants to get back to her reading, though.” 

Bashfulness creeps up your back and threatens to sink its fangs into your neck. Your heart’s rhythm takes an erratic cadence. He’s posing the proposition in such a lighthearted way, offering an easy out if you want to take it. You internally weigh your options on a scale that’s worn from overuse. He’s being friendly, you tell yourself. That’s all it is. 

“Well, I guess I’d be a shabby tour guide if I didn’t show you where the gardens are.” 

On the brief walk to the gardens, the man introduces himself as Chrollo. You both situate yourselves on the same stone bench. You sit on the right, he sits on the left. Once again, he leaves you plenty of space, never testing boundaries. The scent of nascent sage wafts in the air. While you scan your surroundings for hummingbirds, he tells you that his work often necessitates travel, hence his unfamiliarity with the area. 

“Does it ever get lonely?” You ask, not thinking much of it. He gives you a look you can’t quite place, so you elaborate. “Traveling all the time, I mean.” 

He tilts his head, more inquisitive than offended. “What makes you think it’d be lonely?” 

“I just think I’d get homesick after a while, always being in an unfamiliar place. I’d miss my family and friends.” 

When he continues staring at you in silence with those unreadable eyes, you swear you want to slam your head repeatedly against a wall. Not everyone has a good relationship with their family or people to call their friends. The weight of your potential insensitivity comes crashing down on you like a tsunami. 

You move your hands around wildly, rushing to correct your discourtesy. “Uh, I mean, that isn’t to say you need those things!” 

“You don’t think I have any friends?” 

Your face must be radiating more heat than a furnace. Still, the embarrassment doesn’t reach a point where you’re unable to notice his omission of the word family. “I didn’t—” 

Contrary to the reaction you were expecting, Chrollo laughs. Not a little chuckle, but a genuine laugh, hearty in a way that stands in stark contrast to his otherwise reserved demeanor. The smile it imprints on his face somehow feels different than what he’s displayed before. Those were always so well timed, lasting as long as necessary and never a second more. It hits you then just how handsome this man is. Alabaster skin, soft and glossy hair, lips as rosy as the blush on his cheeks from his outburst of laughter. 

It doesn’t last long, he’s quick to school himself. The speed he does so is almost unnatural. “I apologize, I’m only teasing. You’re very expressive, [First].” 

You let out something between a huff and a sigh. “God, I felt so awful…” 

“I can tell,” he puts his hands up in mock surrender when you send him a non-threatening glare. “To answer your question… I’ve never thought about it much. I suppose it is lonely at times.” 

This revelation pours a bucket of ice-cold water over the embers of your indignation. Your face softens and a stinging pain shoots throughout your body. You can’t bring yourself to remain miffed when you’re the one who dredged this topic up. People use humor as a means to cope, that may be what Chrollo does. 

“Enough about me, though. I’m far more interested in you.” 

You shift in your seat. Did it always feel so warm out? 

“Here, let me guess. You’re certainly a student. Hm… of the humanities, perhaps?” 

“You got the student part right,” you agree. “I’m majoring in criminal psychology.”

There’s something like a twinkle in his eyes. “Oh? Is that so? You want to catch criminals, then?” 

“Er… not exactly. It’s more that I want to help them.”

He blinks. “Help them?”

“Not, like, as an accomplice,” you earnestly reassure, to which he smiles, “How do I explain it… take the city around us, right? It’s considered one of the most dangerous in the United States of Saherta.” 

As if on cue, a cacophony of police sirens begins blaring in the distance. 

“In the 80s and 90s, there was a surge of incarceration, yet crime as a whole set higher records each year. The policy at the time was ‘build more prisons, give longer sentences’. Obviously, that didn’t work out very well for anyone… except for private prisons maybe… that’s a whole different beast. Anyway, you reap what you sow. Crime rate is going down, but communities were gutted by these policies. There’s still a lot of work to be done. I want to understand ‘deviant’ behavior so I can see what safety nets would benefit them the most.” 

Chrollo is such an excellent listener that unlike before, you no longer feel the pressure to remain succinct and have little qualms completely delving into your passion. His body language suggests total engagement. 

“Ah, so you view crime as a result of societal shortcomings.” 

“It’s more nuanced than that,” you shake your head. “Hell, even when there were only four people on earth according to the Bible, Cain went ahead and committed murder anyway. That’s like… killing 25% of the population… how messed up. Wait. If there were only four people on earth, who did Cain go on to marry? How does that work…? Asexual reproduction…?” 

“The Quran says Cain and Abel both had twin sisters,” Chrollo offers. 

“Alright, that makes more sense than asexual reproduction. Okay! Enough about theology! Back to crime. There’s no totally eradicating it, but there is circumventing it. That’s what I want to help do.” 

You’ve been so preoccupied with verbalizing your thoughts, you failed to notice he’s scooted slightly closer to you. There’s enough room for decorum yet you can’t help feeling slightly flustered. Why this cute guy is still hanging around despite the fact you casually mentioned asexual reproduction not once, but twice, is a phenomenon that transcends human reason. 

This is so going to be one of those interactions that haunts you periodically at three in the morning for the rest of your life. 

“It’s a noble pursuit,” Chrollo comments. Then, he places a hand to his chin. “Forgive me if this comes off as pessimistic, but… what if you put in all that work, only for nothing significant to change?” 

You shrug. “I’ve considered that plenty, trust me. It’s fine if I don’t kickstart a utopia. So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.” 

“One person, huh?” 

It seems more like a rhetorical musing on his part, so you allow yourself to be momentarily distracted. In your peripherals, there’s a flash of colors, shades of green and red bleeding together. A low buzz accompanies the sporadic sight. The blur moves erratically, high to low, then low to high. 

You cover your mouth to stifle a gasp, then whisper to your companion, “Chrollo! Look! A hummingbird!” 

The thrum of nature is a wonder you’ll never tire of. It inspires awe that reflects in your eyes like a mirror, enchants without needing to cast a spell. You wrongly assume that Chrollo must be partaking in the same miracle that has stolen your attention. He’s fixated, yes, but not on the right subject matter. He’s still staring at you. This disruption of your expectations can only be explained away by the possibility he hasn’t spotted the creature yet. To remedy this, you slowly point in the hummingbird’s direction. Finally, he breaks his gaze from your form, acknowledging what it is you find so fascinating. 

By then, it’s too late. Your newly made acquaintance departs as swiftly as it arrived. 

“Aw, that’s a shame,” you lament. The disappointment you’d feel if you were in his shoes would be immeasurable. “You didn’t get to see it for very long.” 

You have no concrete proof, but you swear every smile he wears is different than the one before it. 

“It’s alright. I saw something far better.” 

Curious, you glance to your right, searching for whatever it is. You must’ve misinterpreted whatever he was looking at before. “Something better than a hummingbird?” 

“You could say that.” 

The remainder of the time you spend together is relatively uneventful. Chrollo asks you a great deal about yourself, ranging from your hobbies to book recommendations. You try to return the favor — as is only polite, in your opinion — yet the conversation never lingers on him long before circling back to you. It isn’t until you say you feel vain talking about yourself so much that he offers some morsels of knowledge. Aside from traveling for his occupation, he’s something of an antiquarian, hence his interest in the Starling House’s event. He also reveals he has colleagues coming into town soon, the aforementioned ‘friends’ you questioned the existence of. The way he teases is so devoid of malice, you can’t bring yourself to be upset. 

The hour flies by. Good looks aside, he’s a remarkable conversationalist. There’s never an awkward silence or social misstep. One could even call him perfection incarnate. His steady cadence, command of language, meticulously formed ideas… they’re reminiscent of cogs in an automaton turning together in complete harmony. Paradoxically, this immaculate image speaks to some underlying defect in his character he mustn’t want anyone to see. There is such a thing as being too perfect. 

For whatever reason, this draws you in closer rather than repelling you. 

Chrollo’s disappointment is palpable when he glances at his watch. It’s then you’re reminded that all good things must come to an end. 

“I—” 

“It—” 

You both start and stop talking at the same time. When it’s made obvious you intend to stay silent until he speaks his piece, he motions to you with his hands, insisting you go first. 

“It was very nice meeting you, Chrollo,” you say, your voice softening. It’s amazing how you can feel your previously discarded sheepishness returning in real-time. Amazing and annoying. “I, uh, hope you enjoy the event.” 

“Please, I should be the one thanking you,” he insists. Then, for such a well-spoken man, he goes uncharacteristically quiet. Deliberating on some issue you’ll never be privy to. “You’ve already helped me a lot, but could I possibly ask for one more thing?” 

You give a nod.

“May I have your phone number?” 

You stare at him.

He stares at you. 

You continue staring at him.

He continues staring at you. 

His request echoes through your head like it was spoken in a vast cavern. Phone number… phone number... you have one of those. He is asking for it. He wants to remain in touch. Indeed, that is what the statement normally means. Ah, it must be in a platonic sense! It’s nice to have someone to talk to, especially since you both share many interests. Not many of your friends are chomping at the bit to discuss if obtaining the philosopher’s stone was a literal practice or meant to be interpreted metaphorically. 

Whoops, you left the poor guy waiting for a response. 

“S-Sure!” 

He hands you his phone without delay. You put in your contact info, then hold it up for him to take. His fingers brush over yours when he picks it back up and you shiver. 

Well, that was certainly nice. You’re forming a blossoming friendship. You love making new friends. The word repeats in your head as if it were a broken record. Friends, friends, friends. Don’t look too into this. Put your magnifying glass down, brain. The stupid three pounds of gray matter delight in tormenting you with outrageous ideas and conclusions. There’s nothing flirtatious happening here. 

“Also, I hope you don’t mind my saying so…” he trails off, weaving a web you willingly allow yourself to get trapped in, “But you are very beautiful, [First].” 

… 

Ohhhh, he’s been flirting with you this entire time, hasn’t he? 

-

Going on a date is a harrowing experience. 

For some unknown reason, your traitorous amygdala regards going to a café at noon with the same severity it would if a lion were actively chasing you down. Your flight or fight response raises the banners of war. The army it amasses digs its trenches, readies the cannons, its matches lit to fire off the artillery on standby. Who is the dreaded opponent, one may ask? No one. Absolutely no one. Incredibly enough, you can actively recognize this fact, and still, your physiological response claims it knows better. 

Social anxiety is so stupid. You thought you and your body were supposed to be on the same team. Whatever inspired this mutiny, whether it be serotonin deficiency or some other science-y term you can’t pronounce, you most certainly don’t appreciate it. 

To be fair, your parent’s reaction didn’t inspire much confidence. Your dad was asking for information on Chrollo you’re 90% sure could be used to conduct a background check, whereas your mom posited the idea he’s a human trafficker. You felt like a lawyer trying to plead your case for why it’s okay that an adult such as yourself may go on a date (sacrilegious, you know, premeditated murder would be more excusable). With some solid arguments and a few instances of stretching the truth (this sounds far nicer than the word lying), the tempest was dissipated. If Chrollo ever were to meet your parents, you’ll have to tell him he’s actually a sensitive, poetic soul that donates to orphanages and saves kittens from burning down buildings. He’s also celibate. More important than any of those things, though, he’s a political centrist. 

Suddenly everything in your closet either felt prudish enough to befit a woman entering the convent, or raunchy enough you’d need to wear a trench coat to leave the house unobstructed. In the end, you find a skirt that’d pass your middle school fingertip test and a cute blouse that shouldn’t land you in purgatory. 

Your hands are shaking when you go to do the winged eyeliner on your left eye. Then you sneeze while applying mascara, granting a raccoon appearance you could’ve done without. You feel wound up so tight there a mere poke could shatter you into millions of pieces. This is great. Millions of years of evolution led up to this. That selfish, inconsiderate fish should’ve never grown legs and stepped on land. Everything’s gone wrong since then. Fuck that fish. 

Ultimately, you succumb and take one of your ‘stage fright’ medications. If it’s doing anything to help, you can’t tell yet. 

You have to beg your dad to stop staring out the window with a pair of binoculars. 

Eventually, a sleek black car pulls in front of your house. 

Following the theme of the day, you almost trip over yourself walking out the front door. Your phone buzzes — no doubt it’s Chrollo telling you he’s here — but you decide to just go to the car rather than text him back. He must’ve spotted you, for he exits and gives you a wave. You’re grateful he did that while a considerable distance away. There was a time a guy waved at you and you thought he wanted a high five. Needless to say, that was a traumatic incident no amount of therapy could help alleviate. 

“You look absolutely lovely,” he compliments. Your Broca’s area temporarily malfunctions at this bold declaration. Fortunately, you gather yourself fast enough to stop yourself from saying “you too”. 

“Thank you,” the phrase comes out as smooth as butter. You silently congratulate yourself for your immaculate delivery of two words. “Wow… you have such a nice car. And here I thought you were a fellow member of the middle class. Am I allowed to touch this?” 

Chrollo chuckles, having gotten used to the peculiar way you word things after all your electronic communication. No matter how you expressed yourself, he still texted you back, so you figured he must be okay with whatever it is you’re doing. He would’ve blocked you by now otherwise. 

His reply comes as he holds the passenger side door open. “Ah, don’t worry. There was a bit of a mixup at the car rental place. I wasn’t expecting something of this quality either.” 

You tuck this piece of knowledge away for later, should any sugar daddy-esque allegations be thrown your way. One can never be too prepared. 

Sinking into the leather seat is a luxurious experience, although it's cold against the exposed area of your thighs. Chrollo slides into the driver’s seat not long after and sets the car into drive. You silently wonder if your neighbors think you’ve gotten into an Uber. 

The short trip to the café soothes your electrically fried nerves. You’re once again reminded of how good he is at making you forget your anxiety, he could put SSRIs out of business. Or maybe the propranolol is finally working. Whichever it may be, by the time you both order your drinks, you feel more giddy than nervous. Is it a good idea to drink a caffeinated beverage when anxiety threatens to drag you into limbo at any second? Probably not. Does that mean you’re going to wisely choose a different beverage? Nope. 

The sunlight is harsher in the afternoon, but you find this is offset by an occasional breeze. No one else is present in the outdoor dining area except for you and Chrollo. You choose the seat facing a row of bushes so you can observe the house finches and house sparrows fluttering about. One little fella is helping itself to a dirt bath in the freshly spread-out mulch. You coo at the adorable display, pointing it out to Chrollo who admits it is a precious sight. You’ve made it your raison d'être to convince him that every bird is equally fascinating, whether it be a rainbow lorikeet or a common pigeon. 

He takes the first sip of the drink you recommended. 

“Well? What do you think?” 

“It’s good,” he decides with a smile. “I can see why you get it so often.” 

“Right? I’ve thought about conducting an Ocean’s Eleven type heist to get the ingredients they use to make it.” 

“Oh? Do you grant a moral exception to thievery?” 

Despite how lightheartedly he phrases this, his eyes have a certain intensity to them. You mull over the question for this reason. 

“Hm… it depends, I guess? Some people need to steal to survive. I probably wouldn’t care if a rich person or mega-corporation got stolen from either,” you say. He quirks an eyebrow at your last statement and you hastily add, “A-As long as no one gets hurt, of course.” 

He doesn’t bother trying to hide his amusement. “Your reasoning is very cute.” 

You groan and shrink back into the garden chair. “I know, I know, that probably came off as terribly naive and self-contradictory… the issue is complex. Giving a one-size-fits-all type of consensus feels impossible. How about you? What do you think?” 

“Coveting is mankind’s original sin,” Chrollo begins. He’s using a tone that tells you to prepare for an in-depth explanation. “It’s a theme that’s recurrent throughout history. David and Bathsheba, Hades and Persephone, Heathcliff and Catherine… we always want what we cannot have. This dilemma never leaves us entirely. We either ignore it, despair in it, or succumb to it. The desire to steal is as involuntary as the diaphragm contracting for us to breathe or the electric signals that cause our heart to beat.” 

A house finch begins its soulful serenade in the background. 

“Wouldn’t you say that calling it involuntary implies we can’t control it, though?” You query. 

“The only way to exercise total control over it is to kill it.” 

“Some parts of us are better off dead,” you decide. “Getting what you want doesn’t guarantee satisfaction. The examples you listed… maybe they were happy for a time, but ultimately, their transgressions caught up to them.” 

“Is a moment of bliss not worth a lifetime of anguish?” 

“Maybe, if I was a sensualist.” 

He rests his chin on his fist, the skin beneath his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Is that what you’re saying I am, darling?” 

Your eyes widen and you almost choke on your drink at the unexpected pet name. Warmth floods your cheeks and you take a long second to recompose yourself. Your blatant display of embarrassment further fuels his amusement, he actually chuckles. You consider kicking him under the table, but decide that isn’t very ladylike. Then you remember it's the twenty-first century, and to honor your feminist ancestors, you scrunch up a napkin into a ball and fling it at him. Although the aerodynamics of your makeshift projectile are questionable, it almost hits him. Until he catches it with admittedly impressive reflexes. 

“You have a good throwing arm.” 

“And you should consider retiring from your white-collar job to join a baseball team,” you take a sip of your delicious drink. This is definitely the most memorable date you’ve been on. “But no, I don’t think you’re a sensualist. I honestly don’t know how I’d classify you. You’re jaded… almost misanthropic. You acknowledge the world for what it is, but it’s like you once thought it could be better. You don’t care to be proven right or wrong about it anymore, you want something else.” 

“Ah… when put that way, I must seem pathetic,” he muses, his casual air hardly matching the severity of the words spoken. 

“Not at all!” Your passionate outcry appears to momentarily take him aback. “If you’re still looking for something, that means deep down, you have hope you might eventually find it. To me, that’s admirable.” 

He regards you for a few moments, before closing his eyes, his countenance strangely content. “You’re a very interesting woman, [First].” 

“Pfft, not really.” 

“I’m afraid this a point I’ll have to insist on,” or so he says, but you both know he secretly relishes his contrarian ways. “I have to wonder, though. How is it you came to gather any of this about me?” 

“Your opinion on books.” 

He blinks. “Pardon?” 

“We interpret media through a lens that’s formed by our experiences, so… I dunno. You can just infer a lot from what a person gets caught up with in a story.” 

In Chrollo’s case, what he doesn’t pay attention to is equally telling, although it took you a while to notice his unique display of apathy. He’d brush on certain themes while giving a rather surface-level commentary. Playing it safe, almost. He still had such an excellent way of weaving his words, that telling it came from another person's loom was difficult. It wasn’t until you hit on a subject he truly cared for that you could tell the difference. He’d give insights so particular to him that they must contain the true essence of his character. 

Even if it is a mere glimmer. 

He speaks your name.

“Hm?” 

“About what I’m searching for…” he unwraps the napkin you unceremoniously threw his way earlier, smooths out the wrinkles, then returns it. “I think I may have found it.” 

-

Everything has a way of escalating faster than you anticipated. 

You’re about thirty minutes into the movie Perfect Blue. For some time now, you’ve been praising its merits to Chrollo, who recently said you should watch it together. This begged the question of where. In the months since you’ve begun dating, while your parents have taken a liking to him, you didn’t think the subject matter of the movie should be proudly displayed in your living room. 

To remedy this, Chrollo suggested watching it in his hotel room. 

You couldn’t fully explain your initial apprehension if you tried. You felt comfortable around him and have been alone together plenty. Yet for some reason, being alone with a man in a hotel room produced this mental image you weren’t sure you were ready for. He never pushed you or asked why you seemed hesitant to take things further than kissing and some light petting. His lack of questioning had the unintended side effect of birthing different doubts. 

Does he not want anything else? Is he only acting like it doesn’t bother him? Will a day come when he tires of your squeamishness and simply moves on? 

It’s this taunting mantra that haunted you in the lobby, the elevator, then the long, impersonal hallway to his room. 

Your chest feels heavy enough that you wonder if lead has filled your lungs. 

When he sat next to you on the couch, you barely registered his presence, much less his question if the temperature in the room felt agreeable. At some point, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Then his hand began to meander, although his attention never left the screen. He played with your hair. Gently stroked your forearm. His hand wandered down, down, down, to the hem of your skirt. He straightens the lightly bunched fabric out. Your heart pounds. 

Chrollo’s fingers stay there, seemingly placated. 

During the scene where Mima sees her reflection as her idol persona, his hand creeps onto the exposed skin of your thighs. He gives it a gentle, tentative squeeze. A soft gasp leaves you and your attention turns to him. Immediately, your eyes meet his in the dark. The side of his face is lightly illuminated by an array of cool tones. He uses his free hand to cup your chin, the pad of his thumb rubbing your lower lip. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

He speaks the question with such rapture, low and quiet. 

Your heart violently hits your ribcage like it’s trying to burst free. 

Silently, you nod. He tilts his head to the side and slots his lips against yours. There’s a pleasant buzz that tries so hard to overpower the frantic adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your body is at war with itself; indulgence or indignance. It’s a conflict that’ll never have a winner. You want to enjoy it — and you are, you think — so why does your biological makeup hold you as a prisoner without ransom? He tastes nice, feels nice. He did everything right. You don’t want to tremble at what’s a normal aspect of a relationship as if it were death itself hanging over your head. 

It’s this mounting frustration at your condition that spurs you into action. 

While maintaining the languid kiss, you situate yourself on his lap, a gesture that causes him to inhale sharply. He may be as surprised at your boldness as you are. You snake your arms around his neck and intensify the kiss. Humming, he reciprocates your ardor. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips and you grant him entry. He tastes of dark chocolate and mint, a combination you wish you could get drunk on, if only to put your tense body at ease. 

One hand squeezes and massages your thigh, the other cups your feverish face. In this position, you’re afforded no modesty. You can feel your skirt hiking up, exposing more of you. His fingers explore the new territory. They venture dangerously close to your panties, though he doesn’t go beyond there, as if respecting an invisible barrier. The cocktail of emotions this invokes is impossible to properly sort through. 

Can he feel the heat emanating from your body? Your pulse which finds new highs every minute? You want to lose yourself, but you can’t, your anxiety always drags you back kicking and screaming. It is an unforgiving warden that thinks you’d be better off in a cell. 

Chrollo admires you when you pull back, in desperate need of air. You’re starting to feel dizzy and you don’t know if it’s the right kind. There’s something hard forming beneath where you sit. His lust for you is apparent, and you want to please, want to be normal. It should be fun. Your friends regale you with stories of taking strangers home and never feeling more than butterflies in their stomach. That’s what you want. Not this contortion of the aforementioned organ that makes you think your insides are slowly liquifying. 

You still haven’t fully caught your breath, each one growing more shallow, more panicked. He finds other ways to entertain himself, namely, by lavishing your clammy skin with kisses. Your jawline, neck, then collarbone. He’s so calm you think you might be envious. Finally, he works his way back up, teasing your earlobe with his teeth, his breath warm as it fans against you. 

Thump, thump, thump. 

“[First],” his voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. Garbled, distant. “Should we take this to the bedroom?” 

You break into too many shards to fix. 

You get up. Straighten your skirt. You think you mutter something about needing a moment. Your legs don’t feel right. They move anyway. The bathroom’s door knob is like ice. You grab a hand towel. Turn on the faucet. Soak the towel until it drips water down the sink basin. Sit on the floor. The tiles are almost as cold enough to help. You place the towel around your neck. Your ears are ringing and you wish they’d stop. You hug your legs to your chest. What is it you’re supposed to do? Breathe? 

It’ll pass, it’ll pass, it’ll pass. 

It always does. 

Just hold on a bit longer. 

Feeling comes back in your hands first. It spreads throughout your body, though the antidote is far too late. Exhaustion is the next thing you register. The kind that seeps into your cells, makes your limbs feel like dead weight. Cognition returns as well. You remember where you are, who you’re with, what you’ve done. 

It’s been a while since you’ve experienced one of these. Somehow, it’s worse than you remember. Infinitely worse. 

A shiver runs down your spine. Has it always been so cold? You wonder what temperature your body was running at for you not to have noticed sooner. 

How nice it is that your homeostasis decided to return. Is your sympathetic nervous system giving itself a pat on the back? Celebrating and popping champagne bottles at yet another job well done? We’ve done it successfully again, folks, you imagine it cheering. We’ve stopped her from doing something completely normal and harmless! 

You’d laugh, but this time, you can’t bring yourself to. 

As tempting as it is to stay here and pray for the tile floor to swallow you whole, you sincerely doubt that’ll happen, so you’re left with the far less appealing option of being an adult and facing the predicament you’re in. Getting back up, you’re treated to a glimpse of your reflection. 

The change in your complexion would make any onlooker think you’ve seen a ghost. 

Abruptly, you’re fourteen again, trying to get your mom’s attention so you can beg her to take you home because the social gathering of ten or so people is just too much. Next, you’re fifteen, talked into some weekend youth getaway because saying ‘no’ makes you feel guilty and the car ride has another two hours remaining. You feel sick, terribly sick, but you don’t want to get sick, because then your peers would think you’re strange, so you sit there and endure. Then you’re sixteen, locked in the stall of your high school bathroom, trying not to pass out because you think it’d be an inconvenience to anyone that happened upon you. 

You thought you were over this. You’ve done the therapy, read the self-help books, and taken your medication every day like clockwork. 

What’s left for you to do? 

Why does it always come back? 

Chrollo asks if everything’s alright when you walk back over to the couch. You say yes. He then asks if he can get you anything. A glass of water, please, is your reply.

You can tell he’s examining you when he hands the glass over. Your face warms — not in a fun way. The television screen is dark and yet you’re fixated on it like it’s the most intriguing thing in the world. Going from feeling as if you’re a stranger in your own body to being hyper-aware of everything never fails to give you whiplash. You can hear the low thrum of the air conditioning, footsteps coming from the hallway, the steady drip of the sink he filled your glass from. You think to rub your eyes then stop yourself; that’d smudge your mascara. It’d be nice if he could at least think you’re pretty as you struggle to hold yourself together. 

“Was it something I did?” Chrollo questions. He almost sounds… curious, a concept you furiously scrub from your head. You’re exhausted and your brain is waving the white flag. Attributing false interpretations to his words is not going to help. 

“N-No, not at all, I, um,” you have the words, you just don’t want to say them, so you opt for taking another drink instead. The glass runs out of water, your safe haven disappearing with it. “Just… a panic attack. It happens… sometimes.” 

“Entirely unprompted?” 

You gnaw on your lower lip. “Kind of…? It— nothing about it is exactly logical. I can know I’m fine, believe it too, and still, that doesn’t matter. It’ll happen anyway. I guess I have some reservations about that level of physical intimacy, but what my body decides to do is completely overkill.” 

“You always minimize the role your anxiety plays in your life,” Chrollo points out. You’re grasping the glass tight enough that your knuckles hurt. “You can’t mention it to me without making light of it in some way. Is there a reason for that?” 

Well, he’s got you there. 

You’re about to joke and ask if he’s the one studying the behavioral sciences, when you realize that’d just be proving his point. 

So uncharacteristic acrimony bubbles to the surface instead.

“A reason? I can give you more than one. It’s stupid, it’s annoying. The most simple things become like a fucking life or death experience for me and I can’t stand it,” you feel tears gather at your lower lashline but you’re too far gone to care. It’s a good thing your mascara is waterproof. “And then I… I think sex sounds nice, but when it actually gets to the moment, I feel so guilty and anxious and wrong that I leave my partner frustrated or thinking they’re some sort of monster.” 

Usually, Chrollo's countenance is difficult to read, but there’s this raw emotion that makes itself known. Understanding? Relief? You don’t know for certain. It disappears without a trace, leaving you no way to confirm or deny your intuition. It’s probably too fried to be reliable, anyway. 

“Hm… you must think all this would put me off, then. Make me want to move on to someone else.” 

A knife stabbing you in the gut and twisting its blade until your viscera turned to mush would hurt less. 

“Sweetheart, I was already aware that it was worse than what you let on,” his voice sounds so kind and near, you marvel at it, the gravitational pull drawing you in. You barely realize he’s brought you into an embrace. Your cheek is against his chest, right above his heart. His has a calm, steady rhythm, whereas yours is picking back up once more. “Your avoidance of talking on the phone, how soft your voice gets when interacting with strangers, the way you act like you’re an inconvenience by asking for the slightest assistance.” 

The tears you tried holding in break free, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. 

“I find these qualities of yours very endearing. You can go from passionately speaking about your interests over dinner to going shy the second the waiter walks over. You care so much, feel so much… it’s a wonder to me. You experience this life in the exact opposite manner I do.”

With the hand he isn’t using to keep you secure against him, he rubs your back up and down. 

“Ah, my poor, sweet girl. What a tender heart you have,” he whispers. His grip on you tightens. That’s when you hear it — the undeniable sound of his heart beating a bit faster than it did before. “I wouldn’t give it up for anything. Not after all the effort I put into stealing it for myself. No, I’m almost hurt you entertained the thought. Have I ever treated you with anything less than the utmost care? Hm?” 

Chrollo starts to pull you away from him, yet you refuse, clinging adamantly to his torso in an attempt to hide your face. He ignores the way you shake your head and by exerting the slightest force, achieves his original goal. His fingers find purchase on your chin, which he tilts upward, allowing himself an unobscured view of your puffy eyes and runny makeup. He smiles, wiping away your tears with such gentleness, he must think you’re made of porcelain. 

Sniffling, you remember he asked you a question, and attempt cobbling together a coherent response. Such is the polite thing to do. “I guess not.” 

“And why do you think that is?” 

“... The once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to conduct an in-depth case study for your future dissertation on GAD and SAD?” 

His visage lands somewhere between mild bemusement and exacerbation. “I know you’re smarter than that. Try again.” 

“My winning personality, once you wade through all the mental illness?” 

“That certainly plays a role.” 

“I know I’m cute, too. I suppose that helps. Otherwise, I’d be completely and utterly fucked.” 

“Yes, yes — you are terribly cute.” 

Sensing your hesitancy to land on a definitive answer, he decides to spell it out himself. “I’m fond of you, to a degree I previously thought myself incapable of. I have a… callous disposition, for lack of a better word. Yet for whatever reason, this doesn’t seem to bother you. I’ve never cared for subjective terms like ‘good’ or ‘evil’, but… if there is goodness in this world, it’d be found in you.” 

Chrollo’s knuckles brush against your cheekbone as he speaks, seemingly bewitched by the glittering stream your tears left behind. Tangible proof of your emotions that tumult like a tempest, whereas his often remains an unmoving body of water. 

You take his cheeks in your hands and glare at him. This time, when your lower lip trembles, it’s with righteous anger, not sorrow. “Why do you always talk about yourself like you’re the world’s biggest villain?” 

His eyes slightly widen — you’ve never used a tone like this with him before, or anyone else, for that matter  — though his composure doesn’t wane for long. 

“So what if you don’t think everything is sunshine and rainbows? You aren’t heartless; you just know the dangers of putting your heart on display for everyone else to see. I can’t blame you for that, from what you’ve told me.”

He’s never been particularly forthcoming about sharing details from his past. What you do know is that he grew up in extreme poverty, without parents or a guardian, scraping by with some other children in a similar situation. You never pushed to learn more. There was this quiet melancholy that possessed him in the rare moments he shared glimpses of his childhood. The specters that haunted him could almost be felt lingering in the atmosphere, turning the air heavy and thick. 

“You lost a precious friend in such a cruel way. That loss of innocence, it’s unforgivable, it’s completely unfair…!”

This time, your tears aren’t for you, they’re for a little boy you’ll never know and a girl that you couldn’t if you tried. “I don’t get why you’re so harsh on yourself. You act like you’ve done something unforgivable.” 

He parts and closes his lips. Whatever he intended to say, he must’ve decided against it. Instead, he pulls you back against him, almost greedily. He presses kisses atop your head then murmurs a few words you can’t quite catch. Your body is deprived of energy, having flickered through almost every major emotion a human being can experience. If your parents wouldn’t have fussed over the act, you could’ve fallen asleep on him for the night. 

The person who inadvertently caused your blistering anxiety is also the best balm for it. 

It’s unexplainable, teetering on the edge of delusion, this sentiment that he could shield you from all harm. He’s always so sure of himself when you remain plagued by indecisiveness. He can talk you out of any irrational thought, anchor you when a stressful situation is beginning to be too much, and understand you almost eerily well. He’s able to piece together your chaotic thought processes with next to no context. He listens to you, remembers everything you say (and you mean everything), and genuinely values your input, even if he disagrees with your opinions. 

This level of an intimate connection is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. 

“No one’s ever cried for my sake before,” he thinks aloud. He’s stroking your back again, almost mindlessly. You swear there’s something magical about his touch. 

“Do you think I’m weird?” 

“There are a lot of words I’d use to describe you,” he decides. As always, he’s clever at avoiding questions he doesn’t wish to answer. “Currently, the one that stands out to me the most would be…” 

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you. 

“Warm.” 

-

The arboretum is far different in autumn. Green leaves have transitioned into rich auburn and golden shades, hesitant buds nowhere to be seen. The grass beneath your feet is crunchier, the foliage dry and scattered, almost as if it were trying to form a protective sheath for the earth. No longer can you hear the melody of grasshoppers and buzzing from busy bees. The wind whistles when it blows, the underlying frostiness biting at your cheeks and ears. 

“Ah, would you look at that, it’s a junco,” Chrollo points out. You cover your mouth to muffle a gasp. Thanks in part to your guidance, he’s gotten better at identifying different types of birds. While you’d like to think it’s because he appreciates them too, you’re convinced he finds your excited reaction far more interesting. 

The little blob of black and white hops to and fro, using its feet to rummage for anything edible. You silently lament your lack of birdseed. You’ll have to settle for cheering the tiny friend on from afar. 

Hand in hand, you both traverse the area of your original meeting. Sweet nostalgia swirls in your chest. You’ve always found it befuddling how a single chance encounter can permanently change the trajectory of your life. In the moment, you have no idea how your actions will go on to form ripples that influence the future. Whether this is chaos theory or some other fancy metaphysical-sounding concept, you haven’t the slightest clue. 

What you do know is that meeting Chrollo was a catalyst for something greater. 

A wave of chills cascades over you.

“Are you cold?” He inquires, his tone having this ‘I told you so’ quality to it that you don’t appreciate. You’re wearing a light beige, plaid fitted blazer, that while chic, doesn’t have much insulation. You waved off his initial concern by saying you’ll warm up once you both get to walking around. So much for that. 

“Cold is a mindset,” the chattering of your teeth doesn’t do much to help your cause. He raises an eyebrow. “Mind over matter… mind over matter…” 

Chrollo shrugs his coat off and drapes it over you. “I wouldn’t want you to get sick, dear.” 

“You sound like my grandma.” 

“The one who tried taking my head wrappings off, or the one who kicked me?” 

“A combination of the two that coalesces their tendency to fuss over me.” 

“You’re very easy to fuss over,” Chrollo chuckles at the face you make at him. “You’re absolutely precious. It’s a mystery to me how you make the smallest acts endearing.” 

At this, you strike a dumb pose, winking at him all the while. “Aha, it’s no mystery. You have my irresistible charm to thank for that.” 

He sighs wistfully. “Indeed I do.” 

Although the sage gardens behind the Starling House are no longer in bloom, you decide to swing by anyway. The plans for the remainder of your day follow a similarly simple yet pleasant precedent. You’re going to go window shopping in a quaint commercial district, grab something to eat at a pub, then end the night off with a movie. Chrollo’s trying to convince you to watch some indie flick that’s in black and white and uses a 1.19:1 ratio. You want to watch Alien, a classic he’s never seen like the weirdo he is. 

The walk isn’t long or monotonous. It’s so idyllic that you could believe you’re the only two people in the world. 

However, that isn’t the case. Upon entering the garden, you’re quick to note the presence of another.  

A young woman is kneeling down, murmuring under her breath. She’s acting as if she’s lost something and can’t find it. Frowning, you detach yourself from Chrollo, approaching her with the intent to offer your assistance. She doesn’t lift her head upon hearing the obvious sounds of your footfall. She just continues blindly grasping at the ground. 

“Miss?” You ask, to which her entire body freezes. “Did you drop something? I could help you look for it.” 

She mutters another incomprehensible jumble of words. 

“Hm? What was that?” 

You lean over in an attempt to hear her better. 

Then, much to your confusion, she enunciates your full-given name. Even while doing this, she doesn’t spare you a single glance. 

“Have to… have to…” she’s back to being difficult to make sense of, “I have to…”

 A strange sensation possesses you.

Have you met this woman somewhere before? You do a quick mental scan of her disheveled appearance and come up with nothing definitive. Her hair is matted, her complexion sallow and her cheeks sunken in. Her disoriented state stirs concern within you. It’s a good sign that she’s still conscious and exhibiting motor functions, but the longer you examine her, the more you can tell she isn’t in a proper state of mind. You don’t want to leave her out here alone in such a vulnerable state. You try to push aside the uncanny feeling that came from her apparently recognizing you when you’re certain you’ve never met. 

Chrollo speaks your name. Turning around, you face him just in time to catch a surreal expression forming on his countenance. His eyes widen slightly, his lips part, then he’s reaching out for you. 

The passage of time grinds temporarily to a halt. 

And then there is a visceral burst of energy. 

It’s as if a blizzard manifests from the direction the woman is hunched over in. There’s this thick, harrowing tension that causes your legs to buckle at the knees. Swirls of negative emotions wrap around you in shadowy tendrils. Grief. Hysteria. Rage. Bitterness. Most notable, however, is the sickening yearning to inflict harm. How can a human being produce and project such raw feelings? It’s like hatred itself has been given a palpable form, submerging you in a swamp of mire. 

You don’t understand what’s happening to you, but you do have this primal foreboding that the longer you’re exposed to it, the more endangered you’ll be. 

In the millisecond it takes for you to blink, Chrollo is no longer in your line of sight. 

It’s strange, you think. There are no knives, guns, explosives; or anything that could hurt you in the traditional sense. In a way you could understand and reliably assess the threat level of. 

And still, despite this uncertainty, you have this unshakable premonition that death isn’t far away. 

-

You wake up in a bed that is not your own. 

Your body is drenched in sweat, your muscles sore, and your head feels as if it’s being clamped in a vice-like grip. Trying to get up proves to be a poor decision. Nausea and dizziness force you to lie back down. You take shallow, frantic breaths, wincing at yet another wave of throbbing coming from your temples. Your senses aren’t reliable either. The first few times you open your eyes, dark spots dot your vision. Then there’s your hearing, or lack of. There’s this distant ringing that while slowly fading, isn’t replaced by anything better. Your hearing grows so muffled you almost think earplugs have been jammed in your ear canal. 

Groaning, you manage to lift yourself off the mattress with trembling arms. The dark spots fade away enough for you to make out your surroundings. 

You’re in Chrollo’s hotel room, lying on his bed. 

It’s nighttime. The digital clock sitting on the bedside table reads 3:40 a.m.  

The next thing you do is feel around for your phone. It should be in the back pocket of your jeans, but it isn’t there. 

The brisk air takes your breath away when you tug the comforter off. Your body groans with protest at all the movement, yet you ignore its request to lay back down, the situation at hand far too perplexing. Your outfit is the same as the one you put on this morning, aside from your boots, which sit together near the wall. You then assess your body for any physical injuries, finding nothing visible to explain your current malaise. Are you hungover? Frowning, you dismiss the idea. You know your tolerance well and never try pushing it. 

Taking small steps and using the wall as leverage, you make your way over to the adjoined bathroom. You fill a dental cup with water and down it instantly. After satiating your thirst, you call out for Chrollo, your voice gravelly with sleep. 

No response. 

Sighing, you slink over to the closed bedroom door. Your equilibrium steadies itself enough that you only need to grab onto something every few steps. The handle doesn’t budge. You try again, exerting more force — still nothing. The subsequent attempts end in the same manner. There’s no denying it, it’s been locked. That begs the question of why. Safety, maybe? It’s possible Chrollo stepped out for whatever reason and wanted to ensure no one could get to you. Then again, that’s what the deadbolt on the door leading to the hotel hallway is for. 

You don’t want to start rattling the door and making a scene when you’re certain there’s a solid explanation for this. He has to come back eventually, his stuff is still here. Although, you can’t help noticing how sparse his personal belongings are. The book he was reading no longer sits on the bedside table, the framed picture of the two of you gifted by your parents isn’t on the wardrobe either. Next, you check the closet, finding it in a similarly desolate state. You once pillaged a shirt of his when you grew tired of wearing a dress, so you know its usual presentation. The hangers remain on the rack yet everything else is gone.

Chrollo told you his job had placed him in this city indefinitely. Is he planning to move to another hotel? 

Not knowing what else to do, you sit on the edge of the bed. The former pounding in your head has soothed into a far less egregious dull ache. You must’ve been asleep for a decent chunk of time, this initial grogginess is what you experience upon first waking up in the morning. You hope you weren’t unconscious for too long. It's an unsettling thought, being in that vulnerable state, totally shut off from the world. 

A few minutes of absentmindedly admiring the twinkling lights that make up the city skyline’s pass. 

Then you hear the door handle jingle. 

Chrollo silently examines you. It’s almost as if he’s gauging your entire being, anticipating what is to come. His mouth is set in a straight line and he’s standing unnervingly still. There’s this intensity to him that has you breaking off eye contact. Your mouth goes dry and you temporarily forget how to form words. You had so many burning questions in his absence, why is it that they've been wiped clean from your head now that he’s here? 

When you find the courage to look up at him again, there’s not a vestige of his former expression. The grave lines have smoothened out and you no longer believe you’re face to face with a stranger. 

“How are you feeling?” He’s quick to close the distance. The mattress dips, adjusting to his presence by your side.  

“Oh, uh, not the best, but… I don’t think it’s anything serious,” you say. Silvery moonlight shines into the room, illuminating him in an otherworldly veil. Goosebumps line your skin when he takes the side of your face into his hand. He’s cold. “I’m mostly just confused. Is— is everything okay? Why am I here?” 

“How much do you remember?” 

Remember, remember… that’s right, you hadn’t given that much thought. You pick through your hazy memories aloud. “Well, we were at the arboretum, just walking around. I remember heading to the gardens behind the Starling House. Then… um…” 

You squint and furrow your eyebrows together. It’s as if your recollection was a film reel that had been trimmed after that point. You try piecing together a mental image of the garden. Hummingbirds? Sage? No, that isn’t right, you’re thinking of its spring appearance. The colors would be more muted, there’d be less shrubbery. The image grows sharper.

Then there’s a shadow. 

Vaguely human-shaped, situated right in the middle of the mosaic you’re trying to form. Their outline isn’t solid, it’s splotchy, like water paint left to run on a canvas. 

Finally, something clicks. 

“That woman!” You exclaim. The corner of his lips twitch downward. “That’s right! Is she okay? She seemed so out of it.” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“How is that possible? You were—” 

“Let’s focus on you for now,” he cuts you off. There’s a finality in his voice you can’t bring yourself to challenge. “Can you tell me what symptoms you’re experiencing?” 

“Um, some disorientation and a headache.”

“I see. I’ll get you some painkillers, then.” 

You grab his wrist to stop him when he starts getting up. “I’d really prefer you told me what happened first.”

When he doesn’t immediately acquiesce to your request, you quietly add, “Please.” 

His eyes soften at your gentle, uncertain timbre. He intertwines his fingers with yours and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze. 

“Earlier, when we arrived at the garden, you grew lightheaded and fainted.” 

You take a moment to process the information. It seems plausible enough, yet the more you mull over it, the more little details start to catch your attention.

“Okay…” you trail off, pursing your lips. A vengeful throb from your head causes you to wince. He notices — frowns — then places a featherlight kiss against your forehead. The thoughtful gesture doesn’t invoke any pleasant warm fuzzy sensations. “So I fell unconscious for over ten hours and you didn’t… call an ambulance…?” 

“That is correct.” 

You shuffle in your seat, momentarily taken aback at how easygoing he’s acting about the entire ordeal. “Why?” 

“I’ve been monitoring your vitals,” he reassures. Sensing your growing apprehension, he adds, “I can promise that you were never in serious danger. I would’ve acted accordingly if you were.” 

The phrase ‘acted accordingly’ doesn’t tell you much either. What does he mean by that? Is there some threshold you needed to enter for him to have taken you to the hospital? Your various volunteer experiences with the city’s vulnerable communities taught you that if a person is unresponsive for over a minute, an ambulance should be called, just to be on the safe side. Besides, isn’t that just common sense? Chrollo is an intelligent man. You can’t fathom any line of reasoning that’d justify not erring on the side of caution. 

You glance at the clock again. 4:03 a.m. glows in the dim light of the room. It’s late. You wonder what your parents—

Holy shit. 

“Do my mom and dad know?” You glance around as if expecting to find them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have insisted on calling emergency services if you were unconscious for that long. 

“I didn’t inform them, no.” 

“What?” You make no attempts to tone down your incredulity. “Then— they must be out of their minds with worry! My phone, where’s my phone? I need to tell them I’m okay!” 

You shoot up off the bed too fast and your body doesn’t take kindly to the rushed movement. Debilitating lightheadedness causes you to lose your balance. Chrollo steadies your swaying form and helps sit you back down. You scoot away from him as far as you can, your thoughts an absolute mess. Nothing here is making sense. It’s not even a puzzle that’s missing a few pieces, there’s almost nothing to work with at all. 

He’s staring at you in that strange, anticipatory manner again. It makes your stomach churn. 

“My phone, Chrollo,” you hold your hand out. “There’s no way you don’t have it.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t give it to you,” he sounds apologetic too, which makes your subsequent temper flare up even worse. 

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss, exasperation winning out. You were trying to be reasonable, but that is over and done with. “You’re acting like— like there’s nothing weird happening! Can you please take this seriously? You’re really starting to freak me out.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I knew this wouldn’t be easy for you, so I wanted to remain calm for your sake.” 

Your tongue couldn’t properly form words if your life depended on it. Sure, remaining calm in a crisis is helpful, but he isn’t acting like this is a crisis. He’s treating it as if he was burdened with sitting you down to relay bad news that no one else had the heart to share. 

You’re starting to think you don’t know the person you’re talking to. 

“For my sake,” you repeat in a wry deadpan. “If that’s true, then tell me what’s actually going on, Chrollo. Because I know you’re bullshitting me.” 

Not calling the ambulance or informing your parents, withholding your phone… then there’s the matter of how he got you here in the first place. Did he carry you through the lobby? No good samaritans thought it was unusual to see a man carrying an unconscious woman up to his room? Hotel staff these days are trained to have a vigilant eye for these situations too. Not one person thought it might be a good idea to ring up law enforcement over such a blatantly suspicious act? 

Nothing is adding up. 

“I’m being more forthcoming than you think,” Chrollo says, as if he’s doing you a favor. He tries reaching out for your hand again, only this time, you don’t allow him. “Everything I’ve said and intend to say is the truth, even if you don’t particularly like it.” 

That’s a hell of a creative way of putting it!

“Who was that woman earlier? What did she do to me?” 

“I have someone ironing out the details, but from what I’ve gathered, she was sent with the intention of killing you. I don’t believe she was aware of the fact herself until you entered her vicinity, triggering the necessary condition for the true culprit’s ability to activate. Otherwise, I certainly wouldn’t have allowed you to get so close.” 

Someone was sent to kill you? You? A run-of-the-mill college student who has no enemies to speak of? It’s not like you’re a part of the fucking mob. That can’t be right, not to mention the bizarre jargon he’s using. There’d be no plausible motive. If he says she was sent, and you choose to believe he isn’t making this all up, that implies it was premeditated. Not a spur-of-the-moment decision. That’d almost make more sense. 

That is, unless… 

You stare at him, eyebrows knitting together. 

“If you’re telling the truth — and right now, that’s a big fucking if — does this have something to do with you?” 

“That’s my clever girl,” he praises, entirely devoid of condescension. The pure fondness in his voice makes you sick. It’s almost as if he’s delighting in watching you piece this nightmare together. “Yes, you haven’t deliberately done anything to earn the wrath of the wrong people. They simply know getting to me is near impossible, hence their decision to go for the next best thing instead. That’d be you, dear.” 

“Oh my god,” you bury your head in your hands. “Why… why am I not freaking out more? I should be hysterical, or, or— I don’t know…” 

“Beta blockers,” he reveals. You look at him like he’s speaking another language. “In anticipation of how… touchy this conversation was going to be, I thought it might be best for you to be in a good headspace while receiving this information for the first time.” 

“You drugged me?” 

“If that’s how you want to look at it.” 

“Because that’s how it is!” 

A lump forms in your throat and lodges itself there. Are you stuck in a hellacious dream? Or hallucinating, perhaps? Visual hallucinations aren’t supposed to be this cohesive or clear. There has to be another explanation. Something you’re missing that’d make this all go away. The beta blocker admission certainly holds weight. Your heart rate, while slightly elevated, isn’t anywhere near as chaotic as it should be. It’d explain the general malaise, fatigue, and lightheadedness too. That, and you doubt you’d be able to think this clearly if there wasn’t something heavy pumping through your system. 

Your eyes hesitantly settle on Chrollo, who sits there perfectly still and almost relaxed. He’s observing you like a hawk. 

“Listen,” you try using a mellower voice. He raises an eyebrow at your drastically different approach. “You had ample opportunity to hurt me and you didn’t. That must mean you have my best intentions at heart, right? Why don’t we try to work something out, because this isn’t sustainable. My absence isn’t going to go unnoticed.” 

Chrollo sighs, heavy if not unsurprised. “Sweetheart, I’m not suffering a break from reality, although I’m sure you’d prefer to rationalize it that way. I assure you I’m lucid and everything I’ve done is intentional. You’ll come to accept it eventually.” 

It isn’t going to help, yet you feel your remaining grains of patience slip through your fingers. 

“What’s this talk about a ‘condition’ and ‘ability’, then?” You challenge. 

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d mention that,” he doesn’t sound like you landed on a reason that’d prove him wrong. “How to explain it… you once told me you think there are phenomena in this world that can’t be explained by empirical evidence. Consider this an example of that. I’m sure you must’ve felt it before you fainted. An intense, concentrated sensation that awoke your primordial fear. Bloodlust.” 

You want to argue until you run out of breath, but this description does strike a chord. Reality itself feels as if it’s drifting further and further away. In an awfully cruel twist, Chrollo and his collected disposition is the most grounding factor you have to latch onto. 

“I’m sure it’s a lot to take in,” he finally replaces that matter-of-fact tone with something resembling compassion, “But know this: you’re not in any danger. Neither are those you care about, so long as you act sensible.” 

Shivering, you hug your arms around your chest. “How can you say that to me so easily? I thought… I thought you…” 

He’s enveloping you from behind. You didn’t even see him move. Weakly, you struggle against his hold, but you’re not in any condition to put up a fight. In the event you were, it’s doubtful it’d make much of a difference. He’s strong. It goes beyond physical strength, into some esoteric realm you’ve become forcibly acquainted with. He’s exerting this slight pressure that makes your heart skip a beat, despite the medication. It isn’t comparable to what you experienced in the garden — there’s no malice — it feels more like a warning. 

“You’re surprisingly sensitive to Nen,” he murmurs, humming contentedly when you go limp against him. His chin rests atop your head and his arms ensnare your midriff. “How interesting. No matter. Whatever your fascinating brain concocted is still true. You may think me merciless, but if you knew me, you’d find this to be my greatest act of mercy yet.” 

“I thought I did know you,” is your weak reply. You don’t recognize the sound of your voice. 

“The parts of me I wanted to show you, yes,” he moves your hair aside so he can press a kiss to the nape of your neck. “And a few glimpses you gleaned in your own way. Really, you are such a sweet girl. Willing to overlook discrepancies to see the ‘good’ in me.” 

Heat rises and ignites on your cheeks. “I-I could scream, you know.” 

“You could.” 

That’s not the reaction you were expecting. 

“You’re… not going to try and stop me?” 

“No,” he responds. “I’ve always found experience to be the best teacher.” 

“You really,” you heave a humorless laugh, uncertain of what else to do, “You really don’t see anything wrong with this?” 

He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, marveling at how your pulse remains steady, thanks to his intervention. 

“‘So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.’” 

“What?” 

“It’s what you said the first day I met you,” Chrollo explains, nostalgia evident. “I’ve thought about those words often. Your effulgence, your desire to do right by others. It made me wonder if there could ever be anyone more perfect for me than you. You, whose pretty neck I could snap before you’d ever realize what happened, stirred up a sentimentality in me I thought myself incapable of.” 

Sandalwood, amber, and leather. His scent is the same as that day.

Are his intentions? 

Is this a prophecy he himself ordained and always intended to see fulfilled? 

“You stole my heart, and as recompense, I will steal you. Think whatever you want about me, dear. Just don’t think I’m selfless enough to ever change my mind.” 

#chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #chrollo lucilfer #yandere hxh x reader #not sfw #my stuff

[cyborg-franky]

Okay, is it weird to want to be held by Marco’s claws in his hybrid form? Just imagine him pinning you to the wall or deck of the Moby Dick with his foot/claw…

I went a little insane about this because I also love love loooove his talons and claws. Top Ten things that make me go feral about Marco...

Marco x GN Reader SFW WC 700

Of all the people you could have been paired with on the ship for a sparring match, it just had to be Marco, didn’t it? The tall handsome doctor with the wicked wit and welcoming personality. The very man you had an all-consuming crush on. You tried to tell yourself this was just a coincidence, the only person suited to sparring with you, one of the few members of the crew who weren’t three times your size or likely to burst into hot flames.

But the twinkle in his deep blue eyes and the coyness of his smile makes you think there might have been something, someone, to blame for these unfortunate events. You stood up when he sauntered over to where you were sitting. 

“Alright, ready for our sparring date?” He asked and you wished he hadn’t used the word date, Your palms already felt sweaty from nerves and the clear flirting from the good doctor was going to do little to stop your heart racing.

You nodded, trying to concentrate, bring yourself back into the correct mindset, trying to ignore how good he looked in his workout clothes, how the shorts rode dangerously low, showing off those defined hipbones of his. If eye contact had been difficult before, well.

He cleared his throat as he got into a fighting stance, you blinked slowly and pulled your attention to his face, seeing the lazy smirk turn into a full grin of triumph, he’d seen just how preoccupied with his waist you’d been mere seconds ago. “Yeah,” you swallowed and nodded, “I’m ready,”

–

Marco dodged another one of your attacks, ducking down as another swung at him. He wasn’t breaking a sweat, he was simply a bird of prey toying with its meal before he’d swoop in with a finishing blow. He could sense that you knew he was going easy on you, and that’s fine. You both knew you were outmatched, Marco just using you as some light entertainment while you tried to get the most out of a sparring session.

He decided to let you get a hit in, sweeping his leg out from under him. The way you had grinned, cocky as he started to fall backward. How you rested your hands on your hips about to spout out something, he was sure, he knew you couldn’t resist some wisecrack at having landed a hit on him.

Blue erupted all around him, lighting up the area with its gorgeous glow and mesmerizing hues as the colours danced and spilled across the deck. Your eyes widened when huge wings fanned out from the tantalizing display. You didn’t even notice the flexing talons.

Not until you were knocked flat on your back, the world-changing perspective in the time it took you to make a surprised gasp as you landed on the deck. Staring up into the darkening sky, trying to sit up until you felt a large talon press down on your chest. Your hands instinctively reached up to grab Marco’s foot.

The way the claws tickled when he flexed sent tingles down your spine, the rough texture and the feel of just how much power coursed under the scaly skin was also making you have thoughts. Your heart was racing double time as you gawked up at him, following the line of his strong leg.

Marco was smirking at you, a glimmer of something feral behind those perfect, beautiful eyes of his. You tried to sit up, the talon gripped tighter and you let out a moan. Oh, you wished it had been one of pain...

He tilted his head, the smirk never slipping, not once, just a simple curious raise of his eyebrows before his tongue darted out to lick across his lips. A low rumbling chuckle escapes as he leans down to admire his trapped prey.

“Well, well, well… that was interesting yoi. Something the matter baby bird?” Marco asked in a sultry tone as fixed you with a look.

Oh, you were in for it now…

And you couldnma’t wait…

#marco the phoenix #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #sfw #one piece #gender neutral reader #marco the phoenix x reader #marco one piece #one piece marco #marco op #op marco #marco x yourname #marco x yn #marco x y/n #marco x gn reader #marco x reader #fushichou marco

[crypticjackal13]

I have been hyper fixed on Red son for the past month and also LMK characters meeting future children with the reader. But I wanted a more extended story Red son meeting his future child and not the short bulletins and stuff.

Maybe it set like Meet The Robinson’s where Red is shoved into the future by accident but the only difference is that he knows that the child is his and the readers (He’s smart like that). They both try to get Red son back to the present while trying to not let the reader and the others know that he’s from the past. He gets to met his “friends” when their older and it’s really strange to him. I don’t really know how to end it so take as much creative liberty as you want with this story!

Oh my gosh I haven't watched Meet the Robinsons in FOREVER

Also. I did my best but this is more just a story of "oh woops time travel!" So enjoy lol

"No Touchy Please"(736 wc)

Redson meeting his and reader's future child

Fun oneshot

Pronouns: any for Redson, you/yours but you're not really involved

CW: uhhh none??

“What…where am I?” Redson got up from his spot on the ground as he tried to get a handle on their surroundings. One moment, she had been in their lab, showing y/n his new Time Machine…the next, there was a flash of light and they had no clue where he was. 

Dusting themselves off, they recognized the space. Albeit covered in different blueprints and furniture, the room was the same—it was still the lab they always worked in. It was even still missing its smoke detector, for obvious reasons.

They walked over and examined the first paper they could see. It was a messy sketch, but he could tell it was meant to be a hover bike. What made it special, a poorly handwritten note said, was that the wheels could transform and make it a regular bike if needed. Smart, they thought.

The sound of the door’s code being entered caught his attention and immediately they prepared to either hide or attack. What threw them off was the appearance of a teenager-looking person.

He was below her current height, with messy red hair that was pulled back into a bun that clearly was too much for the hair tie. He had eyes that were the same color as y/n’s. And there was a sizable seat of bull horns with a bull tail to match.

“What on earth…Who are you?!” They both pointed at each other, like that one Spider-Man meme that Mei had shown Redson a while ago. It would have made them laugh, were they not currently panicking and realizing that not only had the time machine worked, but they were face to face with his and y/n’s child.

“I’m the owner of this lab! And you—“ the teen paused, looking Redson up and down. “—look scarily like my dad.” 

“That’s because I am! But, if I know anything about time travel, I can’t see myself. So now I’m making it both our problem.” They fixed their glasses. With a scoff, the teenager looked around. 

“I don’t see a time machine.”

“So I’ll make a new one while I’m here,” Redson began poking around the different toolboxes and scrap metal in the space. “In the meantime, what’s your name?”

“It’s Zhou. And I can help, you know!”

They continued to try and make small talk with each other while they worked to put together a much more compact version of the time machine, however Redson couldn’t help but be distracted by Zhou. Sure, he looked like Red, but he acted a lot like y/n. He was careful with whatever he built, and his powers were concentrated. He grew worried when he’d almost accidentally burnt Redson, even though they both were fireproof. It honestly was sweet to see.

“There. Now I’ll be going—“ Red stopped when Zhou caught them by the hand.

“You can’t just jump in! You need to do a test run!” He suggested. Red stepped back and looked around, before seeing a blank piece of paper and crumpling it. She threw it inside the machine and set it to a few weeks in the future. 

“If I’m correct, which I usually am, this paper will come back and be a small pile of dust.” They pressed the buttons and the machine vanished in a flash of light. It reappeared only a moment later. Lo and behold, the paper was no longer a crumpled ball, but was a small dirt pile. 

“I guess it does work.” Zhou said. 

“Indeed. I’ll be off now,” Redson paused halfway into the machine, looking back at her future child. He stood with a hand on his other arm, tail swaying as he looked at the ground. Redson sighed. They reached a hand out and patted him on the head. “Thank you for helping me. I can’t wait to meet you again.”

And in another flash of light, the machine was gone. 

Redson was happy to reappear in the lab again, this time right where they were before. Y/n was still sitting in the chair that was closer to the desk. 

“So, how was it?” She asked.

“Huh? How long was I gone?”

“Only a few seconds. What’d you see?”

“Oh, um…” Red hesitated, stepping out and dusting themselves off. “I don’t know. It looked about the same.”

“Aw man. No cool flying cars?”

“My love, we literally have hover bikes.”

“Oh, right!”

#lego monkie kid #lmk headcanon #lmk #lmk x reader #gender neutral y/n #lmk red son #redson x reader #monkie kid red son #lmk red boy #red boy #lmk oneshot #romantic oneshot

[xenodile]

A while back, I decided to do a proper write up of my Stormblood Fix AU where I address my issues with the story while trying to stay as close as I can to canon.  I’ve been working on it bit by bit for several months and I’ve got it to a point where I’m for the most part happy with it.

My basic thought boils down to the entire 61-70 section needs to be just Doma, and then Ala Mihgo is addressed in an extended post-game.  Like it doesn’t fit nicely in the usual x.5 patch cycle or even the standard number of dungeons/trials but sacrifices must be made.

So first off, I’m begrudgingly leaving the 3.5 patch and Baelsar’s Wall unchanged because I haven’t planned far enough ahead to account for Papalymo being alive.  Overall, the set up is the same.  Ilberd unleashes Shinryu and frames the Eorzean Alliance for attacking Baelsar’s Wall, the Alliance moves into Gyr Abania.

The biggest tonal shift is the Scions’ motives.  Though the Empire is the enemy of all Eorzeans, the Scions aren't soldiers.  Their goal is Shinryu, and the danger a primal on the level of Bahamut presents to the realm.  However, Shinryu and Omega’s abrupt disappearance into Garlean-held Ala Mhigo after their clash will make any kind of investigation extremely dangerous.  

Lyse is in favor of taking the fight to the Empire and assisting the Resistance in freeing Ala Mhigo, and by extension making it easier to search for Shinryu.

Alphinaud has sympathy for the Resistance and the people of Ala Mhigo, but fresh out of Ishgard and the Dragonsong War he cannot in good conscience support instigating a new war, regardless of Ilberd’s actions.

Alisaie tries to meet them in the middle, carve a path through the Garlean ranks and cut off the head of the snake.  It worked well enough against Ultima Weapon, Thordan, and Nidhogg, and the Warrior of Light already has two Legatuses under their belt, what’s a third?

The WoL has the chance to agree with any one of them, or say they’re unsure as a fourth option.

Y’shtola, Thancred, and Krile are all of the mind that it’s too early to make a judgement call.  Too many unknown factors in regards to the Garleans forces, Shinryu itself, and even the terrain of Gyr Abania.  Each of the three approaches has its merits and its dangers, and there is no pressing need to come to an immediate decision as Shinryu appears to have gone dormant following its battle with Omega.

Thancred offers to begin scouting Imperial territory, while Y’shtola and Krile will set about learning more about the land from those in Rhalgr’s Reach, leaving Lyse, WoL, and the twins to take to the field for the standard Fringes/Ala Ghanna starting quests.

Zenos’s introduction mostly goes the same, but a greater focus is on Grynewaht directly telling of how he failed and was the sole survivor of his squad, to which he is reprimanded by his superior, whom Zenos kills after his whole “The XIIth Legion is no place for cowards that hide in their castrums” bit.  The biggest change is Zenos must keep the helmet on the whole time, we do not see his face, just the scary horned skull helmet, and he takes note of Grynewaht mentioning that the WoL was among those that attack the Garlean patrol.  He has heard of this eikon slayer, the peerless hero of the savages, and wonders if perhaps he has finally found worthy prey.  Zenos promotes Grynewaht for his tenacity, transfers him to Doma, and urges him to hone his skills further. At this point, Zenos addresses the rest, and opens the floor to the assembled captains/commanders how they should respond to the presence of the Scions and Eorzean Alliance in Gyr Abania. Fordola speaks up, and that sequence goes the same.

The attack on Rhalgr’s Reach plays out the same, save for the WoL’s duel with Zenos.  The crown prince is surprised and intrigued that a single person is able to match him blow for blow, and yet he does not feel any intense drive to live, the furious hate that he’s come to expect from enemies of the Empire.  Also Zenos can just DO magic, that’s why he’s so insanely strong compared to everyone else, he’s the only Garlean that can actually manipulate aether.  Zenos and WoL fight to a standstill, culminating in Zenos’s blade snapping in half after the WoL blocks a particularly heavy hit.  Raubahn arrives with the Eorzean alliance forces, and Fordola begs Zenos to retreat, and he begrudgingly does so, irritated that his hunt has been interrupted.

With the Resistance crippled and Y’shtola critically wounded, the Scions have to reconsider their options.

Alphinaud moves to withdraw from Gyr Abania, as it was the Scions' presence, especially that of the famed Eikon Slayer, that brought the Empire’s wrath down on Rhalgr’s Reach.

Y’shtola’s injuries are too severe to safely move her, so Krile opts to remain and see to her treatment.  Thancred also elects to remain so he can continue scouting Gyr Abania, and hopefully locate Shinryu while the rest of the Scions figure out a course of action to actually reach it.

Back at the Rising Stones, WoL, Alphinaud, Alisaie, and Lyse consider what to do next.  Getting directly involved with the Resistance put more people in danger, just as Alphinaud feared, and defeating the Legatus seems less viable having seen Zenos’s monstrous strength firsthand.  A new approach is necessary.

It’s then that Tataru chimes in that perhaps going after Gosetsu and Yugiri might be the way to go.  She’s no tactician, but she's overhead a lot of chatter from the Domans about how there's only a token Garlean presence, and the Domans specialize in covert action in small group, better suited to how the Scions themselves operate. Alphinaud agrees that drawing Garlean attention away from Gyr Abania will do much to ease the hunt for Shinryu, but is wary of getting involved in another liberation movement after the disaster at Rhalgr's Reach. The gang discusses it, and then heads to Kugane like usual.

Events in Kugane play out the same, WoL, Lyse, Alisaie, and Gosetsu make for the Ruby Sea, Alphinaud remains in Kugane to gather information and build connections.

Things progress as usual til the group finds Yotsuyu in Isari, demanding tribute from the poor villagers and ordering they divulge any information they have on Hien's whereabouts and the Resistance, reminding them that withholding information is treason against the Empire. Rather than Gosetsu going in alone to buy time, Lyse is reminded of Fordola's troops beating a villager in Ala Ghanna, Gosetsu is perturbed by WHO the Viceroy is, and Alisaie can't stand to sit idle when she can do something. The group rushes in to defend the villagers, WoL and Grynewaht go another round, forcing him and Yotsuyu to retreat.

While the element of surprise is gone, it feels good to be able to save people. Before the party departs however, Alisaie proposes investigating the Ruby Sea further. With the Scions' cover blown already, they'll need allies and information, and it wouldn't do to leave Isari unprotected after they stuck their noses in things.  Of particular concern are the Kojin of the Red, who are openly allied with the Empire.  The gang agrees to disrupt the Red Kojin and organize the defense of the Ruby Sea before going further.  Things go pretty much the same as usual, Alisaie takes point and the gang goes between the Confederates, the Kojin, and Sui no Sato getting everyone on the same side and agreeing to look for one another while the Scions draw the Empire’s attention in Yanxia.

Violet Tides and Kurenai’s questline are mandatory because I said so, and also Kurenai takes up the role of healer for the dungeon in duty support.  With things taken care of in Sui no Sato, the gang goes back to Tamamizu, and then Soroban and Bunchin send them to hit the Isle of Zekki where we get the Susano fight.

Instead of all the faffing about, the party of WoL, Gosetsu, Lyse, and Alisaie just fight Susano, who challenges them to battle and doesn’t permit the Red Kojin to interfere.  The gang triumphs, and the Red Kojin begrudgingly allow them to leave having earned the kami’s favor.

Susano appearing just because of the treasures and not actually being summoned by anyone has Alisaie and Lyse spooked, because up to that point it was believed primals always needed a person to give them form.  With business wrapped up in the Ruby Sea and everyone on the same page, Alisaie breaks off from the group to go back to Kugane and inform Alphinaud of the new information while WoL, Lyse, and Gosetsu rendezvous with Yugiri in Yanxia.

Meanwhile, as the party splits up, Yotsuyu and Grynewaht arrive at the Isle of Zekki to reprimand the disobedient red Kojin.  Yotsuyu extracts information on the Scions from the Kojin, and confiscates a number of treasures, including an impressive katana and a lunar mirror.

In Yanxia, WoL, Lyse, and Gosetsu head to Namai and things play out the same, where the villagers are fearful and urge them to leave. They meet up with Yugiri at the House of the Fierce and discuss the situation. Yugiri delivers Hien's ultimatum, his sword or his head, whichever the people want, and set about determining the mood of the people.

It's bad. In the course of exploring Yanxia, the gang gets a history lesson on Doman culture, learning of the oppressive control of the nobility, the ideals of fealty and honor unto death, and how they choked the life out of the common folk even before the Empire invaded. Gosetsu also speaks from experience that there are a massive number of Doman conscripts abroad, and those in the mainland fear for their compatriots safety if Doma rebels again.

Meanwhile, in Kugane, Alisaie finishes sharing the findings on Susano when a message arrives at the Ruby Bazaar inviting a representative of the Scions to the Garlean embassy. Deciding it's better if Alphinaud keeps his cover, Alisaie elects to go, and there meets privately with Yotsuyu.

Yotsuyu is well spoken and courteous with Alisaie, but remains guarded. Yotsuyu tries to explain the futility of opposing the Empire, and requests the Scions cease assisting the Domans. When Alisaie refuses, Yotsuyu says that if Alisaie really wants to protect her brother and the WoL she'd be better off currying the Empire's favor. She goes on to say that she understands Alisaie's position, to feel powerless and second best compared to her "perfect" brother, and that serving as an Imperial spy would give Alisaie the leverage to make real change happen, as Yotsuyu herself can demonstrate.

Alisaie doesn't reject the offer outright, stating she needs to think on it first, mostly to hide how shaken she is by Yotsuyu knowing so much about her at their first meeting. She returns to the Ruby Bazaar and relates what little she learned to Alphinaud, omitting Yotsuyu's offer, speaking only of the Viceroy's uncanny knowledge of Alisaie's personal history and her request that the Scions stand down. Alisaie then departs for the Ruby Sea, to reunite with the others.

Back in Yanxia, the WoL, Lyse, and Yugiri have had little success in rallying the people's spirits. The mood is dour everywhere they go, either with resignation and acceptance of Imperial occupation and Yotsuyu's cruel whims, or fear of a return to the old ways, where landed nobles could use common folk like chattel. The people have simply given up.

Gosetsu in particular is much less boisterous than usual, especially whenever Yotsuyu is mentioned. Lyse is surprised to see his spirits dampened so, and prods at what is bothering him. After a bit of coaxing, he finally regales WoL, Lyse, and Yugiri with a tale from Doma's heyday, of a poor sickly peasant girl whose parents died of illness and poverty, only for her aunt and uncle to beat and abuse her while forcing her to work as her neighbors looked the other way. How the beautiful young girl caught the eye of a wealthy noble from Lord Kaien's court, and so he bought her from her "parents" to be his bride and paraded her about the court, all dressed in fine clothes to cover the marks he'd leave on her. After the nobleman died, his young bride simply disappeared, never to be seen again, until now, to exact her terrible revenge on the country that abandoned and tormented her.

The group is stunned, Lyse in particular taking the news hard. She had been grappling with how Fordola could betray Ala Mhigo and side with the Empire, so hearing of Yotsuyu's past, she begins to understand how someone could have no attachment or even resent their homeland.

Yugiri is still determined to fight and unwilling to let Hien sacrifice himself, and fortunately, the Empire makes a move on Namai and we get the sneaking mission with Yugiri. That plays out the same, and saving the people of Namai convinces them to open up at least that of COURSE they want to be rid of the Empire and live their own lives, but they just don't have the people, the weapons, the anything to make a rebellion possible. They can't risk their lives and the lives of their families on a hopeless cause.

That's enough for Yugiri to be satisfied that they can truthfully answer Hien that the will to fight remains in the hearts of Doma’s people.  The party reconvenes at the House of the Fierce and discuss their next move as Alisaie arrives.  She shares information she learned from Alphinaud and Yotsuyu, while Yugiri shares what they’ve learned of the situation in Yanxia.  Upon hearing Alisaie’s account, Lyse has an epiphany.  Recounting her own familiarity with the WoL and Minfilia’s experiences, Gosetsu’s testimony, and Alisaie’s account, Lyse suggests that Yotsuyu may possess the Echo, with her supposed poor health in childhood being her gift awakening, and explaining how she could learn so much about people so quickly.

While the revelation does give them more to consider, there’s little they can do about Yotsuyu herself at this juncture.  Yugiri suggests it’s time to find Lord Hien, now that they have an answer to his ultimatum.  Alisaie volunteers to remain at the House of the Fierce and help coordinate the Rebellion’s limited forces and correspond with Alphinaud about what resources they’ll need.  WoL, Lyse, Yugiri and Gosetsu set forth to the Azim Steppe, where Hien has been hiding.

MEANWHILE, at the Royal Palace of Ala Mhigo...

Zenos sits on the throne, regarding the katana he broke during his duel with the WoL at Rhalgr’s Reach.  Fordola attempts to discuss strategy with him, but fails to gain his attention.  A messenger arrives bearing word from the Acting Viceroy of Doma.  Rebel forces have taken action against the Imperial garrison, and Yotsuyu requests Zenos bring reinforcements, as Doma is still technically under his rule.  Not to make an offer without incentive, Yotsuyu adds in that she wishes to pay tribute to the Crown Prince that can only be delivered in person.

While initially unconvinced, the messenger continues, stating that the Eorzean insurgents known as the Scions of the Seventh Dawn have been sighted in Yanxia, the Warrior of Light among them.  This grabs Zenos’s attention and causes him to consider Yotsuyu’s offer.  Fordola is taken aback that Zenos would just leave when the Scions’ absence from Gyr Abania means the Alliance and Resistance forces are ripe for the crushing, and Fordola pleads with Zenos to seize the opportunity to stamp out the Empire’s remaining foes.

Zenos chides Fordola, stating that she is free to do as she wishes in his absence, but striking at the Resistance now will give her no satisfaction. Chasing the Resistance when they’re wounded will make her seem fearful and desperate, inciting further insurrection.  She would be far better served by waiting until they have gathered their strength and rallied their spirits, ready to throw themselves entirely upon her blade and destroying them utterly.  Only by laying low her foe when they are the peak of their rage and power will she get what she wants, or so he says.  Zenos makes ready to depart for Yanxia, eager to see what tribute Yotsuyu has prepared for him.

(It’s also critical that we the audience do not see Zenos’s face in this scene.  His helmet is off, but every angle is posed in such a way that Zenos is being seen from the back or his head is obscured.  More focus is placed on Fordola as she reacts to Zenos’s words.  At most we get a glimpse of Zenos’s eye reflected in the broken sword as he talks about facing a foe at their full strength.)

Lyse, WoL, and Gosetsu arrive in the Azim Steppe and rendezvous with Yugiri.  Events here mostly play out the same, the gang meets Cirina, get introduced to the Xaela, and finally find Hien.

Yugiri relays what they learned in Yanxia, that the people of Doma yearn for freedom from the Empire, but lack the strength to face the might of Garlemald.  It will fall on what limited forces still muster under Hien's banner to defeat the occupying forces. Hien is in agreement, assuming that to be case even before he spoke with Yugiri. As their leader, it falls to him to save the people of Doma, not demand they give their lives in his service. Before they can leave the Steppe however, Hien must repay his debt to Cirina and the Mohl by helping them win in the Nadaam.

Events in the Steppe play out mostly the same, Lyse hangs with the kids of Mol Iloh and grapples with the meaning of "a country" as she tries to process Yotsuyu's past, Fordola's actions, and her detachment from her own Ala Mhigan heritage due to living in Eorzea as a Scion.  Deals with a bit of internal bias as she initially thinks the xaela kids have a difficult upbringing out here on the Steppe, but sees them happy and content with their nomadic lifestyle, realizes her idea of what makes a nation and a culture are biased by her time in the Eorzean city-states.  Meanwhile WoL, Hien, and Gosetsu go hunting and help prepare dinner like usual.

After dinner, we get the scene of Hien and Gosetsu sparring, and Gosetsu calls Hien "Shun", his childhood name.

At this point, WoL has an Echo vision.  In it, they see a younger Gosetsu, his hair and beard still dark, supervising a younger Hien speaking with a girl in fine clothes that looks uncannily like a younger Yotsuyu.  She and "Shun" are chatting cheerfully, until a Doman noble walks in and calls Yotsuyu away, her expression darkening as she diligently obeys, and the noble, clearly drunk, grabs her by the arm and roughly leads her away.  The young Hien is frustrated at the sight of the Yotsuyu being taken away, and moves to speak up but Gosetsu stops him.

No matter how detestable he may seem, the noble is an honorable man that has served Lord Kaien for many years, and it would be ungracious to butt one's nose into the domestic affairs of such a prestigious house.  Hien grimaces in dissatisfaction as the WoL returns to the present.

WoL explains what they saw and asks if Hien knows Yotsuyu. Sheepishly, he confirms, he and Yotsuyu were of a similar age when she was brought into the court, and was her only friend in those days. It is why he first gave his ultimatum to Yugiri. Yotsuyu is as much one of his subjects as any other Doman, and the cruelty she faced at the hands of her family and the nobility weighs on his mind. He worries about how he will lead Doma should he return, refusing to become the kind of ruler that allows or fosters the treatment that Yotsuyu went through, wanting to build a better Doma but not really knowing how.

As the Nadaam draws closer, WoL, Lyse, Gosetsu, and Hien go through Bardam's Mettle and get their yols, and meeting Sadu and Magnai goes the same.

While Lyse and Hien are prisoner at the Dawn Throne, they discuss their respective concerns about their cultures. Hien fearing a return to the old ways, Lyse wondering what it means to be Ala Mhigan now that it's been an Imperial province for so long. They come to the conclusion that it falls upon individuals like them with the strength to fight for what they believe in to inspire others. Hien will personally shape Doma into a nation its people can be proud of, and tells Lyse that he believes she is capable of the same.

At the Dotharl camp, Gosetsu comes clean about his crimes in the Empire's service as a conscript, and his own desire to seek death to atone for not only failing Kaien and Hien, but all the people of Doma that looked to him for protection, including Yotsuyu.

Meanwhile, in Yanxia...

Alisaie sets out from the House of the Fierce to scout the the surrounding area. At least, that is what she claims. In truth she has arranged a clandestine meeting with Yotsuyu, to tell her that WoL and co. have gone after Hien in the Azim Steppe.

Thinking she's won, Yotsuyu applauds Alisaie making the right decision to side with the Empire. Alisaie corrects her, saying that she's telling Yotsuyu this to give her a chance to surrender.

She's thought on Yotsuyu's offer, and decided against. She knows she's weak, feels powerless and angry, but she has seen what people are capable of. She believes in her brother, the WoL, their friends, they WILL succeed. And knowing what she does of Yotsuyu's past, she tells her that things need not end in bloodshed. Alisaie knows what it's like to feel helpless and alone, at the mercy of fate as she lost everything that was good in her life. But rather than give up and wallow in anger and grief, she clung to the memories of the good and fought to change things for the better. She reminds Yotsuyu that as someone that was so hurt by the old system, she is the best qualified to change things, and it's not too late to seize a better future.

Yotsuyu lashes out at Alisaie, angry and humiliated that Alisaie called her out so hard, spitting venom about how Alisaie is a privileged brat that could never understand Yotsuyu's hate, and she will never let go of it. Alisaie leaves Yotsuyu, warning her that if she wants a fight she'll get one, and no amount of forewarning will save her when the Scions come knocking. Yotsuyu is left glowering as Alisaie departs before regaining her composure as a messenger informs her that the Crown Prince's airship has arrived.

Back in the Azim Steppe, it's time for the Nadaam. It starts with a brief solo duty that leads to the second trial, consisting of a three phase three way fight between players, Sadu, and Magnai. The battle culminates in WoL and Lyse holding off the khatuns while Cirina claims the ovoo for the Mol.

Cirina is declared Khagan and the other tribes defer to her and the Mol as the new authority of the Steppe. As Cirina humbly accepts and gives thanks to Hien and company for their assistance, Grynewaht and a massive regiment of Garlean troops and war machina arrive, demanding the immediate surrender of the Scions and the Domans.

Hien is preparing to surrender himself but Cirina steps forward and declares that she speaks for the xaela, and the ones Grynewaht seeks are her honored guests. When he persists, Cirina rallies the tribes, asking if warriors of the Steppe will allow invaders to intrude upon the sacred Nadaam and threaten the Khagan's allies.

The combined Xaela forces route Grynewaht's army, sending him fleeing back to Yanxia. From there, we get the regular send off. The gang says good bye to Cirina, and she promises to confer with the khatuns about sending aid to their new Doman allies. WoL, Lyse, Gosetsu, and Hien return to Yanxia to plan the attack on Doma Castle.

As the group enters Yanxia however, Yugiri arrives bearing urgent news.  The Crown Prince and the Viceroy have been seen outside Doma castle with only a token escort. The mood immediately turns grim as everyone present recalls how brutally Zenos put down the Ala Mhigan Resistance and previous Doman rebellion.

Hien is undeterred, reminding everyone that the House of the Fierce is still secure, and they need only be patient until Zenos leaves Yanxia again to make their move. Yugiri however, is of no mind to wait and believes it would be easier and safer to assassinate Zenos and Yotsuyu than go through with the plan. Hien advises against doing anything rash, but Yugiri won't listen and leaves. Lyse and Alisaie ask WoL to go after her and try and talk her out of it, because regardless of how they feel about the plan, they've seen what Zenos can do firsthand and know that Yugiri trying to face him alone is tantamount to suicide.

Upon catching up with Yugiri, she confesses that even if doing so goes against Hien's wishes, her honor as a shinobi will not let Hien risk his own life in the attack when she could defeat his enemy here and now, and her pride as a Doman demands justice for Yotsuyu's and the Empire's crimes against her people.

Rather than discouraging her, WoL can say they have their own reasons for facing Zenos again, that they too want payback for Rhalgr's Reach and Y'shtola, or that as a friend, they won't let her do this alone. Yugiri is surprised and relieved to know the WoL will have her back.

Night falls, and Yugiri and WoL get ready to ambush Zenos and his retinue. Yotsuyu is obviously tense and sticking close to Grynewaht while Zenos is out at the front, alone. One by one Yugiri silently dispatches the guards, before making her move on Zenos himself. Zenos blocks the attack effortlessly, commending Yugiri on her technique and the fire in her eyes, but laments she has not the strength to give it meaning. Zenos repels Yugiri, and Grynewaht springs into action to stop her from attacking Zenos again, as the WoL steps out to face the Crown Prince.

Zenos is pleased to see his quarry alive and well, musing if their travels in the fallen nation of Doma have stirred something in them. Hate? Or perhaps something more.

WoL has the option to respond with wanting revenge for hurting their friends, confronting Zenos for the sake of Ala Mhigo and Doma, or that they have their own reasons for wanting him dead, to which Zenos responds with amusement, disappointment, and intrigue, respectively.

During the solo duty it plays mostly the same as the initial duel in Rhalgr's Reach, but WoL clearly has the advantage. Zenos's health drops faster and he is taken aback by just how much stronger WoL has gotten since their last encounter. At around the 40% mark, Zenos stumbles and begins laughing. He unsheathes the Ame no Habikiri and the music changes. In phase 2, Zenos gains significant damage resistance and the frequency of his raidwide and AoEs increases to the point that it is not possible to avoid everything. The fight continues until the player is reduced to 1% health or Zenos is brought to 15%. The entire time Zenos is clearly enjoying himself, cackling and goading the WoL to fight harder.

Regardless of how the battle ends, in the scene that follows Zenos clearly overpowers the WoL and sends them reeling. Even bloodied and his helmet broken, Zenos is the unambiguous victor of the duel. Yugiri breaks away from fighting Grynewaht and his guards to come to the WoL's aid.

Zenos is panting and tears off his broken helm, throwing it to the ground. This is the first time the player sees his face. He speaks in glowing terms of how ferocious WoL has become, and how he was right to put faith in them, before giving his "Live, hero." speech, and turning to leave. Yotsuyu orders the remaining guards to finish the WoL and Yugiri off, but Zenos countermands her, stating that their business here is done, and all troops are to return to Doma Castle. Before Yotsuyu can protest, Alisaie, Alphinaud, and Lyse arrive with reinforcements from the House of the Fierce, and Zenos mockingly warns that the Viceroy seems to have overstayed her welcome. Yotsuyu bitterly warns Alisaie that she now has proof of how her hero will fail her, and that it's not too late to surrender, before she too takes her leave.

Alphinaud is almost in tears as he heals the WoL, and scolds them for being so reckless because he wasn't there. Alisaie teases him for worrying so much, and he shoots back that she was practically frantic when he arrived.

The party returns to the House of the Fierce, and Yugiri apologizes for disobeying Hien, to which he replies that he is just happy she's unharmed. Now that everyone is settled in again, Lyse calls attention to Alphinaud's unannounced arrival, and asks what brings him to Yanxia. He explains that he heard of Zenos's arrival ahead of time via his connections in Kugane, and realized things in Doma must be coming to a climax, so he began making preparations. We get a brief flashback montage of Alphinaud in various parts of the Ruby Sea as he explains that by working with Hancock, he was able to strengthen the foundation that Alisaie laid and secure the Confederates, Kojin, and Sui no Sato as allies to the Doman Liberation Front.

With the addition of a fleet and the Kojin, the chances of actually cracking Doma Castle seem greatly improved, and spirits rise at the House of the Fierce. Hien's return is met with great celebration, and some small amount of worry, as Hien is surprised to find that a significant portion of the Liberation Front are former nobility, and many expect to return to their previous authority once the Empire is ousted.

Hien needs time to think, so he leaves the House of the Fierce to visit Monzen. Lyse goes after him, worried about him being alone so close to enemy territory. Hien contemplates his history, that of his people, their culture, and what it means to be Doman. How so many fight to regain what was lost in the occupation, but he cannot in good conscience restore if they win. Lyse voices similar doubts, admitting that it was her Ala Mhigan heritage that motivated her to push the Scions into conflict with the Empire, but she doesn't really know what Ala Mhigan culture is, and that her father and sister, the residents of Little Ala Mhigo, those in the Fringes, and someone like Fordola that lives in the city proper, can all have very different versions of what being Ala Mhigan means. She regrets that trying to build a better future means doing so on the ruins of these other ideas.

"Ruins" gives Hien a flash of inspiration as he looks at Doma Castle, and he tells Lyse that he's figured out how they will take it. The two return to the House of the Fierce.  Hien gathers the Liberation Front to make an announcement.  They’re going to destroy Doma Castle.

The castle is too well guarded to facilitate infiltration, and they don’t have the resources to outlast the entrenched Garleans in a siege.  Trying to preserve the artifice of the past will cost lives in the present, and that’s not a sacrifice Hien will make.  If Doma is to have a brighter, better future they must let go of the past, and the greatest symbol of Doma’s inequality must go with it.  There’s a lot of rumbling of discontent from the older members of the Liberation Front, but even Gosetsu speaks in favor, saying that it is long past time for the nobility to repay the debt they owe to the commonfolk they failed so long ago.

As if to vouch for the young Lord of Doma, the screeching of yols heralds the arrival of Cirina, Sadu, and Magnai. Cirina says that having discussed with the khatuns of many tribes, they have agreed that it is in the best interest of all people of the Steppe if the belligerent Garleans are expelled from their neighboring nation, and so the Dotharl and Oronir have pledged a number of fighters to assist the Domans.

The House of the Fierce is abuzz with activity as everyone prepares for the coming attack. WoL heads back to Kugane to meet up with Tataru and get Cid's manual so that Alphinaud can assist with deactivating the magitek gate, Hancock is coordinating with Rasho and Soroban as to how the Confederates and Kojin will blockade the Castle and secure the Enclave, Hien and Lyse talk with the xaela leaders about shutting down the Imperials' air support.

Meanwhile, at Doma Castle...

Zenos stands on the balcony overlooking Monzen, contemplating his now broken helmet. Behind him, Yotsuyu is prostrated, apologizing for her failures to curb the rebellion sooner, swearing she will crush the insurgents, and so on, but Zenos interrupts her, saying she played her part well. He believed she had, in her hatred, completely snuffed out the will to fight in Doma, and is pleased to see otherwise. Yotsuyu hopes this means he will stay and help, call for reinforcements, reward her loyalty with protection...but he does not. Zenos states plainly that he and the troops he brought will be returning to Ala Mhigo, and it falls upon the Viceroy to see to her own fate. Fight, kill, and survive, or die and whet his prey's bloodlust. He cares not which. Yotsuyu breaks and asks him as a friend to save her, which he does not dignify with an answer. Grynewaht attempts to comfort her as Zenos departs, but she lashes out at him, tears in her eyes, saying that the Prince's orders were clear. They are to fight, unto the death, and she will not be a flower waiting to be plucked, as she clutches the lunar mirror in her hand.

We go back to the House of the Fierce where final preparations are made. Hien and Gosetsu raise a glass to victory or death come tomorrow, Gosetsu thanking his master and the Scions for their beliefs in him and a chance to make things right.

The next morning, the siege begins. Alphinaud leads the Shinobi to capture the moon gate so the Confederates can secure the Enclave, the Xaela take to the skies and bring down the Empire's airships, and WoL, Alisaie, Lyse, Hien, Yugiri, and Gosetsu enter the flooded Doma Castle. Yotsuyu watches from the balcony and waits, eyes cold.

The party defeats Hypertuned Grynewaht, shocked at what the Empire has done to one of its own, and proceed up to the balcony chamber at the top of the castle where Yotsuyu has taken refuge.

Hien confronts Yotsuyu, demanding her surrender and an end to the conflict. She refuses, disinterested. If she fights, she'll die, if she surrenders, she'll be executed, even if she escapes, she'll be branded a failure by Zenos and disposed of. At least if she fights to the last, her death will be on her own terms.

She fires on Hien, but he deflects the bullet and closes the distance. As she fires again, he cuts the shot and disarms her. She hisses at him to do his country proud and finish her, but he sheathes his sword.

Hien kneels down to eye level with Yotsuyu tells her that honor would demand her death, but that is not his way. The old ways fall with Doma Castle itself, and he would give her the chance to live that she was denied all her life as a daughter of a new Doma, a better Doma than the one that destroyed her. The party each steps up in turn to ask Yotsuyu to listen to Hien, that there is always time to change things and be better, that no matter what mistakes and wrongs we commit, culminating in Alisaie asking her if this is really how she wants things to end, or if she's willing to have faith.

Yotsuyu falters, speechless and reeling. Finally, Hien and Gosetsu apologize. They admit they saw her pain and looked the other way in the name of honor and "propriety", and they were wrong to do so, asking if she will forgive them, and accept the chance they offer.

Yotsuyu doesn't immediately answer, looking away and trembling. Then, her voice seething with anger, she asks if they really think they can fix everything with just a few kind words while she's powerless and at their mercy. She asks if they were so repentant, why they never bothered to look for her in the years after she was sold to cover her husband's debts? Why did it take destroying everything they ever worked for to get them to suddenly grow a conscious and admit their failures?

It was by her action, her will that she clawed her way out of the hell that Doma trapped her in, and be it her parents, her husband, her owner, or Hien, she will not suffer to live by another's "kindness" ever again. Her fate is hers and hers alone. She pulls out a magitek remote and hits a button, detonating charges throughout the castle, and it begins to collapse.

Hien gives the order to retreat but is stopped in his tracks when a naginata of ephemeral light thrusts towards him, narrowly missing his heart. Yotsuyu rises from the floor, clutching the lunar mirror with conviction in her eyes as the skies darken. She is shrouded in radiant light as she manifests Tsukuyomi, and declares that no one shall escape the castle alive.

The Tsukuyomi trial plays out identically, only with memories of Hien and Gosetsu coming to her aid to defend her from the shade of Zenos instead of just Gosetsu.

After the WoL defeats Tsukuyomi, Yotsuyu collapses, her hair turned white. The battle against the moon kami has cost the party precious time to escape, and the roof finally gives out. Gosetsu catches the collapsing ceiling and tells Hien to get Yotsuyu out. Hien protests, refusing to leave his old friend behind but Gosetsu insists that Hien must not give in to anger and grief. If he is to build a new nation, it must start with saving Yotsuyu. The party has some rushed good byes and escape, as Doma Castle collapses on Gosetsu.

Hien is grief stricken as he comes to terms with Gosetsu's death, and his wish that Yotsuyu be given a chance to live in a new Doma. The mood is melancholy as the Scions reconvene with their allies and explain what transpired in Doma Castle. From there, things play out the same, Hien puts on a brave face to address the people of Doman Enclave, telling them the new nation they build will not be one of nobles and kings, that he would be their protector rather than their master, meanwhile Yugiri and the Shinobi discreetly get Yotsuyu to a secure room within Hien's new estate. Celebrations are had and credits roll, then post credit stinger has Zenos looking up at Shinryu, contained by Omega in the Royal Menagerie, talking to himself of how he eager he is for his and the WoL's next meeting. Alphinaud goes back to Kugane to do what he does best, Alisaie and Lyse remain at the Doman Enclave to help people adjust to life without Imperial occupation.

Now we move into the post-game, or rather, part 2 because as I said before, Stormblood dearly needed more time to let everything going on in it cook, similar to how Heavensward and Shadowbringer's post-games up to patch x.3 was really just a continuation and finale of the plot started in the x.0 MSQ.

So, Yotsuyu finally awakens after the battle with Tsukuyomi in Doma Castle, and everyone is taken aback when she remembers nothing, her memory a blank slate. There's a discussion about what to do with her because yes it was Gosetsu's last wish that she be shown mercy, but it doesn't change what she did as Viceroy and seeing her may cause unrest among the populace, but they can't exactly keep her locked up forever. The matter of her amnesia is also a worry, since it wouldn't be right to hold the innocent "Tsuyu" responsible for what the Viceroy of Doma did. Before any kind of decision can be reached, Alisaie gets a linkpearl call from Alphinaud saying that an Imperial airship arrived in Kugane and an ambassador has requested an audience with the Scions at the Garlean embassy.

Lyse, WoL, and Alisaie are all a bit weary of speaking with a Garlean politician after assisting in Doma's revolution, but head to Kugane all the same. Once there, the party goes over what to say, make sure they don't do anything to incriminate themselves, basically let Alphinaud do the talking.

At the Embassy, the Scions are introduced to Maxima, of the Populares. After a bit of initial tension, Maxima explains he is here to negotiate peace between the Empire and Doma in the wake of the rebellion, but he wished to consult with the Scions as a third party given their history of conflict with Imperial forces despite their shared interest in destroying primals. Everyone gives their most level headed take on the Empire and its foreign policies and why the Scions have been opposed to them, which Maxima takes in stride. He shares his own history of touring the provinces and being appalled by the treatment Imperial citizens face just for not being Garlean, citing Doma as proof that the current Imperial model is unsustainable. Maxima goes on to share the goals of the Populares as a political group, seeking to empower the citizens and establish peaceful connections with other nations. Maxima then says that Gaius van Baelsar was one of their more prominent supporters, and his reign in Ala Mhigo was a huge step in the right direction for the rights of provincial citizens.

This takes everyone off guard, Lyse in particular, who speaks up about the awful treatment that the people of Gyr Abania face, and their opposition to the Garlean occupation.

Maxima takes a moment to consider, surprised himself by the news of tension in Ala Mhigo. He then divulges a bit of history on the relations between the two nations prior to the Imperial occupation. How Garlemald had quietly assisted the Resistance in the form of funds and materiel, and aid to civilians all while His Radiance Emperor Solus maintained a cordial relationship with the Mad King, enabling the Empire to maintain a presence in the capital in spite of the Ala Mhigan king's rampant paranoia. When the Resistance overthrew the king and began infighting over leadership, Garlean forces stepped in to establish order. To the more radical elements, it was seen for the foreign takeover it was, but many welcomed beneficent Garlean rule after suffering under the Mad King. From there, van Baelsar and van Darnus made their moves on the rest of Eorzea, and the outer reaches of Ala Mhigo got less attention due to their proximity to the Black Shroud.

Lyse pieces together how this lead to the difference in perspective between Ala Mhigans in the capital that grew up with an Imperial education and security like Fordola, vs those on the outskirts like her that only saw the Empire as tyrants.

Alphinaud is grateful that Maxima is willing to share so much, but questions what he hopes to gain by divulging such secrets to enemies of the Empire. Maxima reasons that such information is commonly taught to Garlean children in school, and is not something to hide. If anything, His Radiance encourages the study of history so all can understand the necessity of the campaign and the good that Imperial rule can bring to others, and the danger that outsiders pose, such as the sabotage of the Ultima Weapon.

The WoL's interest is drawn when Maxima's account of the Praetorium neglects all mentions of Lahabrea, saying it was Ascian influence that caused the devastation that broke the XIVth Legion.

Maxima is shocked, having never heard of any such beings as Ascians. This triggers a discussion over glaring discrepancies in the Scions' accounts and the official military reports, as the group piece together that the existence of the Ascians had been carefully expunged from Imperial records and their actions attributed to the "barbarous nature of magic-tainted savages".

The group realize it is highly likely that the Empire's foreign policy may have been influenced by the Ascians specifically to sow chaos that lends to the summoning of primals. Maxima is shaken to his core, and announces he must return to Garlemald with all haste to investigate the Scions' claims. However, his mission is unchanged, and he leaves the Scions with a proposal to deliver to Hien. A prisoner exchange between the Empire and Doma, to calm the waters after the revolution, and recognize Doma's independence and sovereignty.

As the Scions return to the Ruby Bazaar to mull over what they've learned, a missive arrives for Tataru from Eorzea. As she reads through it, she reveals it is a coded message from Thancred, saying he's located Shinryu and requesting the gang return to Gyr Abania. The course is clear.

The Scions go to the Doman Enclave and give Maxima's message to Hien, as well as the startling revelation that the Empire may be under Ascian influence. Hien is wary of trusting the Empire, but for the sake of returning the many Doman conscripts home, will consider the offer and discuss with his advisors. Yugiri speaks up, and asks if Hien would permit her to go with the Scions. Having left when Gosetsu arrived and been unable to assist in the hunt for Shinryu, she feels she owes it to her friends to see their mission through now that hers is finished. Hien agrees, and sends her off with his blessing. The Scions say goodbye to their Doman friends, then go back to Kugane to make the journey back to Eorzea, sans Tataru, who elects to stay in Kugane and work her mercantile magic.

(Tataru here offers the quest to unlock Hell's Lid, with the trigger for her financial venture being recovering all that was spent to set up the Doman Liberation.)

The Scions reconvene in Rhalgr's Reach, where Y'shtola has recovered from her injury and is back on her feet, and even Urianger has stepped in to lend what aid he can in the hunt for Shinryu. Everyone shares what they've learned from their time in Doma, and Thancred explains he's confirmed Shinryu is in Ala Mhigo proper, contained in a magitek field. Knowing first hand from the Meteor Project and Warring Triad that the Empire and sealed Primals is a recipe for disaster, the Scions are resolved that they'll have to help the Resistance if there's to be any hope of stopping the Primal.

The Scions confer with Raubahn and Conrad if there's been any progress in Gyr Abania and how they can help. They go on to explain that things have been quiet and Imperial patrols are few and far between, almost like the Empire assumes the Resistance was broken by Zenos's initial attack. As a result they've had plenty of time to regroup and rebuild, and rumors of the Doman Liberation have spurred many to action in other provinces, keeping Imperial forces distracted and divided.

From here, the Ala Mhigo story proceeds as normal, with a few changes. The Scions are witness to Fordola messing up and killing the Qalyana Matriarch's daughter after her forces are routed at Castellum Velodyna, and the subsequent summoning of Lakshmi. Fordola escapes during the panic as the WoL steps in to deal with the primal. As Lyse, WoL, and the twins recover at the Peering Stones with M'naago's family, they talk about why Fordola would take a Qalyana hostage when they've been model Imperial vassals, and they come up with it being a result of Fordola being cityborn and Garlean-educated, and thus out of touch with the non-hyur members of the Ala Mhigan community, confirming what they learned from Maxima.

When Lyse, WoL, and the twins return to Rhalgr's Reach, they get the news that a number of Imperial agents infiltrated Resistance headquarters while the bulk of their forces were occupied at the bridge and abducted Krile. All are shocked and their motivation to fight is reaffirmed. Alphinaud stops and wonders however, what the Empire could be planning, as trading such a vital strategic location for a single prisoner hardly makes sense from a tactical perspective. Urianger offers that it may have something to do with her Echo, given the interest Zenos had shown in both the WoL and Yotsuyu.

Meanwhile, Fordola reports her defeat to Zenos, preparing for the worst. Zenos chides her for failing, but says it ultimately is of no consequence, as her bumbling served another purpose, revealing that Krile has been captured by his personal guard. When Fordola questions how a single captive is going to help them secure Ala Mhigo's future, Zenos cryptically answers that stoking their foes hatred will make them vulnerable, but only if Fordola herself is willing to seize the opening at any cost.

The combined Resistance and Alliance forces move into the Peaks and set up in Ala Ghiri as usual, questioning why the Empire would leave the town unguarded, but not looking a gift in the mouth. Things proceed at Specula Imperatoris, culminating in Fordola bitterly carrying out Zenos's order to fire on Imperial forces to hit the Resistance, and as before, Estinien intervenes and damages the cannon before it can fire again.

The group reconvenes at Ala Ghiri to lick their wounds and take stock of their losses. Conrad names Lyse his successor before dying, much to her surprise, but she swears to do him proud.

Estinien arrives shortly after, to the Scions' surprise. He explains that he had been travelling in the Far East when he caught wind of a terrible wyrm that wrought havoc on Eorzea, and came to investigate. If the player has done the level 70 DRG quest, it will be referenced here. WoL and Alphinaud explain the deal with Shinryu being born of Nidhogg's eyes, and Estinien decides he's going to stick around and do his part to deal with the primal, as anything Nidhogg related is his responsibility.  (Alisaie is absent in this scene, preoccupied with something else, to preserve her and Estinien not meeting until post-ShB.)

The gang set their sights on Castrum Abania and taking out the giant cannon before it can be repaired, and the Scions set out.

Meanwhile, we cut back to Ala Mhigo where Fordola delivers her report of the battle at Specula Imperatoris to Zenos through gritted teeth.  Still hurting from the loss of her friends, she blames the Resistance for continuing to prolong the bloody war when she and other loyal Ala Mhigans have only been trying to preserve their future.  When she remarks as much though, Zenos descends upon her, demanding she drop the pretense and say what she really wants.  That’s when she snaps and admits that she wants to kill all the Resistance for ruining things.  That she’s angry and spiteful and wants to make the ingrates pay for looking down on her and other cityborns for being happy with their lots in life.

With her rage exposed, Zenos offers to grant her the power to capitalize on her fury, a taste of the power that even the Warrior of Light cannot match.  Fordola readily agrees and that’s where Aulus steps in and she undergoes the Resonant treatment.

Back in the Peaks, the gang moves in towards Castrum Abania.  Estinien and Yugiri run interference on the outside while Thancred, the twins, and WoL plan to take one route, and Urianger, Y’shtola, and Lyse take another.  Dungeon proceeds as usual, and both parties meet up at the cannon control room.

Fordola angrily tells the Scions that life in Ala Mhigo was perfectly good until the Resistance started making a mess of things.  How Ala Mhigans were respected and trusted Imperial citizens until the greedy rurals started refusing to pay their tithes, stealing from supply lines, and killing soldiers.  How she and the Skulls were trying to save Ala Mhigo and redeem their culture’s place in the Empire by being loyal and dutiful soldiers, and they were succeeding before the Scions stuck their noses in and destroyed everything they worked for.

The fight goes the same as before, Fordola’s Resonant powers let her go toe to toe with Lyse and Alisaie at the same time.  Fordola wounds Alisaie and escapes, and the Scions take Castrum Abania.

The Scions fall back to Rhalgr’s Reach to see to Alisaie’s injury, and discuss what the hell just happened.  Everyone comments that Fordola’s abrupt leap in skill and strength is unnatural, and Lyse in particular describes Fordola as somehow knowing what she was going to do ahead of time.  Urianger has the eureka moment and wonders if somehow Fordola has gained the power of the Echo, and if so, it may explain Zenos’s interest.  Alphinaud adds on that Krile was particularly gifted at “hearing” the emotions and intentions of others, and Fordola’s ability to “see” her opponents moves before they happen may be a manifestation of the same trait.  Y’shtola connects the dots and suggests that if Zenos has the ability to forcibly confer the Echo on others, it is likely he has undergone the same process, and may go some way to explain his inhuman strength.  Furthermore, if they can find where Zenos gave Fordola her “gift”, it may lead them to Krile.

The WoL takes a moment to check in on Alisaie, who is understandably frustrated that she lost and needed to be saved again.  Despite Alphinaud’s fussing, her wound is not so severe that she cannot fight again, but she will need some time to recuperate.  Urianger meanwhile, makes plans for how to deal with Fordola, and Estinien goes on ahead to try and pin down Shinryu’s location for himself.

Lyse and WoL have their moment on the Palm of the Destroyer, Lyse gets her new outfit, talks about how she still doesn’t feel like she’s ready to lead the Resistance, but for the sake of everyone that believes in her, she’s going to step up, and knows she has the WoL and the Scions to put her on the right track if she starts to slip up.  Good vibes all around.

The lead in to the battle for Ala Mhigo remains the same.  The Alliance forces mass in the Lochs to prepare for the siege, Urianger continues his experiments with a countermeasure for Fordola’s Resonance, Thancred and Estinien go ahead to scout the city, Alphinaud, WoL, Lyse, and Y’shtola investigate the settlements to gather intel.

Thancred finds a way in, Estinien confirms Shinryu’s location, Scions get the key, and Urianger produces his mystery device.  The plan is all set, and the Scions share their intel with the Alliance.  Scions infiltrate Ala Mhigo and open the door, Lyse and WoL confront Fordola, using Urianger’s funny doodad to overload her artificial Echo.

Rather than have Lyse call Fordola a traitor, the scene where Fordola is captured focuses more on Fordola’s crushing realization that despite everything she and her friends have sacrificed, they’ve lost.  The Ala Mhigo they believed in is going up in flames around them, and the Resistance has seized the city.  Even if the Scions are defeated by Zenos, he doesn’t care about them, and he never did.  Lyse is resolved but still sympathetic.  She understands that Fordola truly believed she was fighting for Ala Mhigo’s future, and the peace and prosperity that that the cityborn knew under Imperial occupation is as much a part of Ala Mhigo’s culture and history as the Mad King, the Autumn War, the Fist of Rhalgr, and the Resistance.  Lyse promises Fordola that the future will be brighter, and that those lost will be remembered.

With Krile rescued, and the Scions reunited, it’s time to take the fight to Zenos.  Instead of Hien swooping in with the Doman forces, Yugiri vouches for the Scions and de-escalates the situation with Hakuro and the lupin, and Estinien fills the role of decimating the Garlean air support while the Scions enter the palace on foot.

Ala Mhigo dungeon happens, we got all the Scions available for duty support since the plan for them is to ignore as much of the Imperial forces as they can and beeline to Shinryu in the Royal Menagerie.

At the end of the dungeon, Zenos gives his usual spiel and goes off, and WoL tells the Scions they’ll deal with Zenos and Shinryu alone.  Everyone objects saying Zenos is too strong.  WoL has a few options to explain themselves:  The risk of Tempering is too much, they need to face him alone for their own sake, asking the group to have faith in them.

Alisaie is the first to vouch for the WoL, followed by Alphinaud, and they convince the rest of the Scions to go back up the rest of the Eorzean alliance.  Everyone says their piece, wishes the WoL luck, and Alphinaud and the Scions depart.  Alisaie gets a parting moment where she makes the WoL promise that they’re coming back, before she too heads out.

Royal Menagerie sequence is unchanged.  Same Zenos speech, same options, same fight.

Zenos is beaten, Lyse hears him explain himself, how everything was solely so he could finally have a foe worth fighting, and he cuts his own throat.

Ala Mhigo is freed from the Empire, the Resistance raises the Ala Mhigo flag, credits roll as Lyse gives her “monsters are made, not born” speech as the camera shows Yotsuyu and Fordola. Post credits, we get the stinger of Gosetsu fishing on the island out at sea.

Now we move into the ShB lead in.  Lyse officially leaves the Scions to stay as Commander in Ala Mhigo, Alphinaud, Arenvald, and WoL have their silly Skalla adventure, Urianger heads back to the Waking Sands to further study a strange thinning of the land’s aether that he had observed prior to his arrival in Gyr Abania, and Estinien disappears into the night as per usual.

Alphinaud helps catalogue the Mad King’s hoard and assists with getting the Saltery trade set up with Nanamo and Lolorito, and we get the crowd calling for Fordola’s blood.  Lyse settles the crowd same as before, talking about how taking revenge won’t bring anyone back, and Fordola deserves a chance to be better.  Finally, Raubahn and Nanamo have their moment to say goodbye as Nanamo dismisses him as Flame General so he can stay in his home.

To finish things off, we get the Lakshmi duty with Raubahn and Lyse organizing the meeting of community leaders to decide the future of Ala Mhigo, including the Tempered Ananta.  However, rather than it being some clown shoes nonsense of “all the guards were tempered and crystals were hidden in the throne room” the Qalyana that summon Lakshmi sacrifice their own lives to power the summoning, and Lakshmi produces like, a wall or something to barricade everyone in, necessitating Arenvald tagging in Fordola.  She gets her moment, the day is saved, everyone’s grateful that you were present to pull them out of the fire.

With things just about wrapped up in Ala Mhigo, it’s time to return to Doma, as Yugiri receives a message from another shinobi that Hien has at last received word from Maxima regarding the prisoner exchange.  WoL, the twins, Yugiri, Y’shtola, and Hakuro depart for Doma.  Krile is still recuperating from her captivity and experimentation at Zenos’s hands, and Thancred stays in Gyr Abania to help Lyse keep on top of things and watch for any suspicious primal activity.

Upon arriving in the Doman Enclave, Hien welcomes the Scions and the returning lupin conscripts, then gets to business, recounting the letter he received from Maxima.  In it, Maxima explains that his proposal was met with some opposition in the Garlean senate.  While some are open to more diplomatic peace with the “independant provinces”, others are critical of peace being a show of weakness, especially in light of the recent Ala Mhigan insurrection.  In particular, a rival political group known as the Telophoroi have been pushing against peace at every turn, as they seek an end to conflict worldwide via total Garlean dominance.  However, the leader of the Telophoroi, one Asahi goe Brutus, has surprisingly agreed to meet with Hien and discuss terms instead of stonewalling the Populares further.

Upon hearing the name, Alisaie remarks that “Brutus” was Yotsuyu’s Garlean given name, and Hien confirms that Asahi is the same brother that manifested as a hateful shade when Yotsuyu manifested Tsukuyomi.  The group cannot help but be suspicious, but Hien is determined to see it through, as it is his responsibility to bring home the Doman conscripts in Garlean custody if he’s able.

But there is much to be done before Ambassador Brutus arrives.  Alisaie means to inquire after Yotsuyu and see how she’s doing after the whole Tsukuyomi thing, to which Hien talks about how she’s been well behaved, but laments his inability to actually let her out of his estate lest the sight of her cause unrest.  Already there are rumors of the late Viceroy’s ghost haunting the Enclave from citizens catching glimpses of her in the windows or when she occassionally wanders out after dark.

Yugiri vouches that “Tsuyu” truly has forgotten everything and is effectively not the same person she was as Viceroy, but remarks that it is cold comfort to those that suffered under her reign.  Hien too has to bite his tongue, recalling Gosetsu’s parting words that she deserves another chance and struggling with his own desire for revenge for his friend and mentor’s death.  Alphinaud offers some consolation that the right thing is rarely the easy thing.

Y’shtola speaks up, inquiring about the aether thinning phenomenon that Urianger spoke of and noting that she has noticed the same in Doma with her aetherial sight.  Hien mentions the Burn and its lack of aether, and Y’shtola asks to investigate it.  The Scions head out for the Burn and we get the dungeon.

It plays out as usual, we find the Allagan shield generator, and Y’shtola sees an aether current leading back to the Azim Steppe, so the party heads back that way, while the twins break off.  Alisaie returns to the Enclave to check on Tsuyu, while Alphinaud heads back to Kugane to see how things are going with Tataru and Hancock.

We get the same events in the Azim Steppe, WoL duels Sadu, Y’shtola emasculates Magnai, we find out the Burn is where Azys Lla came from and thus predates the rise of the Garlean Empire and Emperor Solus using it to justify his imperialism.

Before we can explore that historical inaccuracy further however, WoL gets a linkshell ring from Alisaie.  Tsuyu has gone missing.

Y’shtola opts to remain in the Steppe to continue studying the Allagan device in the House of the Crooked Coin. WoL and Hien return to the Enclave with all due haste and reconvene.  Yugiri explains that Alphinaud returned from Kugane with urgent news, having learned from his contacts of a giant Doman samurai resembling Gosetsu that was recently seen in the Ruby Sea.  Tsuyu reacted strongly to his name, but the twins and Yugiri were preoccupied with discussing what to do and their amnesiac charge escaped the Enclave.

Fearing what will happen if Tsuyu is seen out and about, the gang sets out for Namai to find her before it is too late.  WoL and Hien arrive in Namai shortly after Tsuyu, who has already drawn a crowd.

Tsuyu is frightened and confused, unsure why everyone is angry or afraid of her.  Some of the crowd call for her blood, demanding retribution, and she doesn’t understand what it is she’s done wrong.  Azami, the little girl from earlier in the Doma story, comes to her defense as Hien arrives and explains who she is.  The people are unmoved, beseeching Hien to punish Yotsuyu for her crimes and the sake of their lost.  Hien grits his teeth and considers it for a moment, before refusing.  He restates his belief that the old laws of honor would demand blood for Yotsuyu’s actions, regardless of circumstances, but that is not Hien’s way, and he will not execute an innocent, nor would doing so undo any of the pain of the past.

The crowd disperses, accepting Hien’s decision, and tragedy is averted.  Before the party returns to the Enclave, Jifuya, prominant member of the Doman Resistance, stops them and asks for a word with Hien.  WoL recognizes Jifuya as someone they interacted with during the Doman Liberation, as well as one of the voices that called for a return to the old ways when the Empire was removed.

Jifuya asks Hien if he can speak in private, or at least, away from Tsuyu.  Yugiri and the twins escort Tsuyu back to the Enclave while Hien, WoL, and Jifuya go to the outskirts of Namai to converse discreetly.  Jifuya opens up that he was Yotsuyu’s master, the one who bought and put her into bondage as a courtesan after her husband died, and requests Hien’s permission to leave Doma.  Hien is outraged that a slaver was among his ranks, but Jifuya retorts that he has ever been a loyal and true ally of Doma, as a noble and then as a soldier.  Honor dictates that his service earn him clemency, and if Hien will not respect the old ways, then this new way of mercy and forgiveness that compels Hien to forgive someone as wicked as Yotsuyu demands he let Jifuya go as well.  Or is the young lord of Doma a hypocrite?

Hien stumbles, but before he can say anything, a familiar voice rings out, asking Jifuya if seeking to escape the consequences for his crimes is truly the actions of an honorable man.

Gosetsu walks in, using his sword as a cane, limping as he goes.  Without missing a beat he approaches Jifuya and asks again, if he is so honorable, why was he among the first to incite the crowd to call for Yotsuyu’s blood, why would he flee if he had done no wrong.

Jifuya falters, looking for an escape, sheepishly saying that he only did what was common for the time, he cannot be blamed for what one stupid girl did in response.  Gosetsu sternly states that Doma’s fall was brought about by selfish old men like them that cared more about their pride and honor than the people they were meant to serve, and that same honor now demands they repent for their failings, in whatever way their victims see fit.

Jifuya attempts to run, stating he refuses to be at Yotsuyu’s mercy for what he did to her, but before he can escape, Gosetsu draws his blade and cuts him down.  Gosetsu himself falls to his knees after his strike, saying to Hien that he seems to have slipped, and hopes the Lord of Doma will forgive his retainer’s clumsiness.

Realizing that Gosetsu has spared Hien from having to publicly go back on his principles, he obliges and helps Gosetsu back to his feet.  The trio return to the Enclave and Gosetsu is welcomed home.  Yugiri and the twins are apprised of what transpired with Jifuya and Gosetsu regales the party with stories of his adventures following the collapse of Doma Castle.  All the while, Tsuyu dotes on him, fussing over his injuries and making sure he’s comfortable, which he finds unsettling.

Yugiri explains to him what became of Yotsuyu, and her new life as Tsuyu.  Gosetsu dryly suggests the mercy fate has shown them both must be the work of the kami, to be forced to live on in spite of their crimes, to atone by bearing the weight of a guilty conscious.  Gosetsu’s injuries combined with his age are too much for him to fight as a samurai again, and he needs assistance in his day to day, and Tsuyu has no memories of her old life, only that she committed a terrible crime she cannot remember or even who she hurt.

MEANWHILE, IN GARLEMALD, we get the conversation between Varis and Elidibus, with the stinger that Elidibus is up to something.

When we next pick up in the Enclave, Hien has received word from Maxima that Ambassador Brutus’s ship is en route and should be arriving soon to carry out the prisoner exchange, and potentially a proper ceasefire between the Empire and Doma.  Last minute preparations are made, including keeping Tsuyu hidden, given the bad blood between her and Asahi.  The only other concern is a strange increase in activity from the Red kojin of late, given they had settled down since the Empire left Doma and Susano was defeated.

Asahi and his retinue arrive alongside Maxima, he is welcomed to Hien’s estate as an honored guest.

Contrasting with Maxima’s prior letter, Asahi seems positively thrilled with the idea of the prisoner exchange and peace between the Empire and Doma as equals.  When questioned about the politics of his party, the Telophoroi, he says that the militaristic stance is born of precaution, not hostility, and so long as Doma does not seek further conflict he has no reason to pick a fight.  But that does entail the return of all Imperial prisoners...including the missing viceroy, his “dear” sister Yotsuyu.

The group is shocked that Asahi is aware of Tsuyu’s survival, and Yugiri tentatively explains that she lost her memory after the battle of Doma Castle, and was given a new identity for her own protection.  Hien states that Tsuyu would likely not wish to leave Doma to go with a stranger to a strange place, and Asahi, surprisingly, agrees.  She is a Doman citizen now, through and through, though he would like to see her for himself, if time permits.

Back to business, Asahi says that in addition to ceding prisoners and pursuing no further restitutions from the Empire, Doma and its people must never again summon eikons.  Alisaie speaks up, saying the people of Doma never summoned to begin with, which prompts Asahi to mention Susano and Tsukuyomi, TWO summonings by Doman citizens in less than a year.  WoL disputes this, as Susano manifested without being summoned by anyone, and Tsukuyomi was called by Yotsuyu, the Imperial Viceroy.

Asahi insists that these are semantics, and it was ultimately Doman religious practices that gave rise to the primals.  The Empire will not demand an end to all worship, only that such “incidents” be prevented.

At this point, Asahi suggests going around and touring Doma a bit, estranged as he is from his homeland by his time in Garlemald.  Hien, Yugiri, WoL, and the twins escort him around Yanxia, from the Enclave to Monzen, Namai, and Castrum Fluminis.  It’s there that we get the encounter with the Red Kojin attacking Isse and Azami, and the gang rushes to the rescue, Asahi included.

With enough excitement for one day, the group returns to the Enclave, and Asahi retires for the evening.  Afterwards, the group plus Maxima discuss how odd the whole situation is, Asahi knowing of Yotsuyu’s fate and her summoning Tsukuyomi at Doma Castle, the unusual actions of the Red Kojin to travel so far inland, especially on the same day Asahi arrives, the bizarre change of heart compared to Maxima‘s initial report.  Something is obviously strange, but no one can quite pinpoint it, and Maxima hopes it is simply nerves.

The next day, Asahi sets about preparations for the prisoner exchange at Castrum Fluminis, but as before, requests he be allowed a chance to meet with his sister.  Hien tentatively agrees, not wanting to jeopardize the safety of the Doman conscripts by refusing, and the group travels to Castrum Fluminis with Tsuyu in tow.

From here, things play out more or less the same, Asahi surprises Tsuyu by bringing out their parents, and Yugiri notices a number of suspicious crates that Asahi’s retinue seems to have brought with them.  Asahi and his forces fall back to the fortress, leaving the WoL with his parting vitriol and the Echo vision of his first meeting with Zenos, and Tsuyu is very agitated following the unexpected reunion with her parents.  At this point, all involved are aware the prisoner exchange is a trap, but for the sake of bringing home the Doman conscripts, they’ll have to follow through for now and just be ready to react to whatever scheme Asahi tries to pull.

The next morning, Hien’s estate is throw into a tizzy as Tsuyu has disappeared overnight.  Yugiri takes responsibility, saying that she had grown lax in her observance as she became more accustomed to Tsuyu’s every day routine.  With the airship bearing the conscripts on its way, there’s no time to dispatch a full search party, and Hien asks the WoL and the twins to investigate while he travels to Castrum Fluminis.

WoL and the twins split up and search for Tsuyu, WoL goes to Monzen and finds the bodies of Asahi’s parents and gets the Echo vision.  Tsuyu, having regained her memory, cannot live with the guilt of being shown such kindness and mercy after what she’s done, and plans to kill herself when her parents arrive and begin harassing her.  She turns on them and murders them both, then Asahi arrives on the scene and congratulates her on the miraculous recovery.  He tells Yotsuyu the plan to regain her place in the Empire by summoning Tsukuyomi again at the prisoner exchange.

WoL meets up with the twins and they rush to the Castrum proper to warn Hien.  They arrive just as the Doman conscripts are being brought through, and Alphinaud calls out that it’s a trap.  Asahi seems shocked at their arrival, but carries on, giving the signal for Yotsuyu to show herself.  The crates Yugiri identified are opened, showing off a number of crystals, and Yotsuyu uses them to once again turn into Tsukuyomi.

Asahi cackles madly, laughing that a Doman citizen has summoned an eikon in direct violation of the peace agreement in what can only be called an act of war.  His victory is short lived however, when Tsukuyomi runs him through with her lunar swords, voice seething as she recounts that he more than any other she hated, her own brother that beat her and used her, never protecting her from their parents, leaving her to suffer as he reaped the benefits of her abuse and enslavement.  As Asahi chokes on his blood and curses her for being the one Zenos chose over him, the transformation fades, and Yotsuyu collapses, the lunar blades holding Asahi aloft disappearing as he plummets to the ground.  Yugiri and the twins run to Yotsuyu’s side as Hien and Wol look over Asahi, with his last breath saying that Zenos will come for them and avenge him.

WoL gets the Echo vision of a somehow still living Zenos giving Asahi his mission to sabotage the prisoner exchange, and shares what they learn with everyone present.

Alphinaud is bewildered, asking how Zenos could have given the order when Zenos died at the Royal Menagerie, to which Maxima reacts with shock, saying that the crown prince is alive and well at the Imperial capital, already recovering from the wounds he sustained at the Ala Mhigan insurrection.  The contradiction presents only one possibility.  An Ascian has taken possession of Zenos’s body.

In spite of everything that has occurred, Hien asks Maxima if they intend to go through with the prisoner exchange.  Maxima agrees, as the ambassador’s plan was as much of a shock to the Populares as the Scions, and he still believes in the mission. 

Yotsuyu then awakens, her hair evenly split between black and white, much like Tsukuyomi.  She is unharmed, if exhausted by the summoning, and bitterly asks what the Scions intend to do with her now that she’s finally had her fill of revenge.  Hien states that her amnesia was her only defense against the peoples’ ire, and he may not be able to protect her if she remains in Doma, to which Yotsuyu replies she has no desire to remain anyway.

Alisaie offers Yotsuyu join the Scions, as they’re always looking for people with the Echo, and it’s a politically neutral group far from Doma.  Yotsuyu wonders aloud how long Alisaie has been waiting to turn Yotsuyu’s initial offer on its head, to which Alisaie only smirks.

Yotsuyu makes no commitments, as she will need time to decide what she wants now that her life is actually in her own hands for the first time.  Yugiri escorts her back to the Doman Enclave.

Alphinaud then addresses Maxima, asking what he intends to do now.  With the news that Zenos may be an Ascian, he must return to Garlemald forthwith and resume his investigation, and regrettably, it might not be wise to bring the Imperial prisoners back to the capital in such circumstances.  Hien volunteers to help see the prisoners back to their homes with the help of Doma’s shinobi, as most of them are foreign conscripts anyway, and with the Ambassador dead on Doman soil, the prospects of peace are well and truly off the table.

Alphinaud volunteers to join Maxima in the journey back to the capital, believing he would do more good helping the Populares fight the Ascians politically and potentially prevent further conflict at the source.  The WoL has the option to encourage him, stay neutral and advise caution, or disagree with Alphinaud’s decision as too dangerous.

Regardless, Alphinaud and Maxima depart, and the WoL, Hien, and Alisaie return to the Enclave.  When they arrive, Yotsuyu and Gosetsu are waiting for them, both in new outfits.  “Tsuyu” states it’s better if she let go of her old name for good, and Gosetsu declares that the two of them are going on a pilgrimage of atonement, to understand where they belong in the world as a pair of sinners who were denied honorable death.  Tsuyu comments she’ll keep Alisaie’s offer in mind, and the two depart.

At the same time, a yol arrives dropping off Y’shtola, who explains that her research in the Steppe has reached a satisfactory conclusion.  WoL and Alisaie tell her about all that has transpired in her absence, and she grimly wonders if Alphinaud has not made a rash decision.  On a happier note, she says that she has undone the stifling of aether caused by the Allagan device, and it is possible the Burn may recover in time.

Hien thanks the Scions for their assistance, and swears he will pray for Alphinaud’s safety in the coming days.  He then asks if they can deliver a letter of introduction to the Eorzean Alliance, pledging Doma’s friendship.  The Scions graciously thank Hien for his friendship and hospitality, and depart for Eorzea. 

From here, things proceed pretty much as they do in the original story.

Thancred, Krile, Lyse, and Urianger are updated on the Zenos situation, and his grave is confirmed to be empty, as we get the shot of the unknown Elezen soldier watching in the distance.  Thancred departs for Garlemald to find out what’s going on.

WoL and Alisaie deliver Hien’s message to the Eorzean Alliance, pledging Doma’s support against the Empire, Maxima and his unit arrive in Ala Mhigo, and the WoL and Alisaie learn of the attack on their ship and how Alphinaud went off with the mysterious Shadow Hunter.  We get the introduction of Emperor Solus and the big reveal of Garlemald’s founding.

Thancred returns, bringing grim tidings of imminent conflict with Eorzea and retribution for the Ala Mhigan and Doman rebellions.  As Thancred delivers his report, the mysterious voice happens and he goes comatose.  Alisaie and WoL return to the Rising Stones to tell Urianger and Y’shtola, who soon follow suit.

WoL and Alisaie travel to Doma together one last time to let Hien know what’s coming, he informs them that he has been in contact with Cid and the four of them head out to burn to get the Allagan shield up and running to protect Doma while the army travels to Eorzea to assist the Alliance, Gaius delivers Alphinaud’s comatose body to the Scions and warns of Black Rose.  WoL and Alisaie return with the Doman forces then take some time to check on the Scions, visit with Matoya and Krile to diagnosis what’s wrong, visit Ga Bu in Limsa, then attend the big meeting with Varis and the Alliance leaders prior to the battle of Ghimlyt Dark, and the 4.5 story plays out unchanged.

And so that’s my edit of Stormblood, how I would modify events to keep things mostly the same, but tie the narrative together a bit more smoothly and keep things consistent.  The big points I want to focus on are developing both Yotsuyu and Fordola, giving them more screentime to actually understand and sympathize with them before the game tells you you’re just supposed to, giving Zenos more build up as a character, making Lyse’s growth as an individual more pronounced, and removing or reording some events I felt were particularly unsavory or jarring with the rest of the story.  And of course, Yotsuyu lives so she can do stuff in the future.  If you’ve made it this far, thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed my ideas for how Stormblood could be improved as a story.

#David plays FFXIV #Stormblood #Final Fantasy XIV

[shiningwonderland]

Ren Jinguji (Repeat)

Translator: Akari (twitter: akari) Proofreader: Raz (twitter: agnadance) Editors: Snail (twitter: herbert_snail), Lacey (twitter: fairyharp), Terry (twitter: turtlemudge)

July — Unexpectedly Toccata

Today's the long-awaited pool opening.

I'm really looking forward to swimming in the enormous pool at Saotome Academy. It's so gorgeous, it's like a luxury hotel pool.

But….

As I get to the pool entrance, I notice that Tsukimiya-sensei and Hyuga-sensei are chatting about something.

Ryuya Hyuga: I thought my class was supposed to use it today.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Yeah, I heard you say that. But it's just not true~ I heard it with my own ears!

Ryuya Hyuga: Did we double-book it? Or maybe it's a mistake on the part of the office….

Guess we don't have a choice. It'll be a bit cramped, but we'll have to make a joint effort to share this time.

Ringo Tsukimiya: You're right. Let's go, then.

And then, in the distance….

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haa~ That's no fun! Let's have a match!

The principal falls from the sky.

Shining Saotome: Weeeell, you youngsters and your friendly rivalries! By constantly pushing each other…

… You'll have a better chance of shining as an idol!

This is all from my favorite book “Volume for Idollars”!

If you read this, you’d swim in money. YOU'd have a million Idollars tomorrow! Everyone, let's go big!

With that being said, only the winning class gets to use the pool!

Ryuya Hyuga: Geez. President… where did you come from? I mean, giving such a self-confident opinion and quoting from a book….

Shining Saotome: Hahaha~ Where there are shadows, there's light; and where there's trouble, there's Shining!

Ryuya Hyuga: More like you cause trouble, rather than fix it… Geez….

Shining Saotome: Hahaha~~! You're right! Chance for attack!

Ryuya Hyuga: You actually realize this about yourself?? If you do, then don't act so rashly, for God's sake….

Hyuga-sensei mutters with a worn-out look on his face.

Shining Saotome: Speaking of pool games, water polo is the way to go! Three representatives from each class will compete in water polo!

Ryuya Hyuga: Water polo…. It's another crazy competition….

Student A: This water polo competition is too sudden….

Student B: Moreover, they're asking for three representatives. I don't really want to do it. It's a big responsibility.

Shining Saotome: The rules are simple: One person will be at the goal and the other two will fight for the ball in the pool! Weeeell, if I were to explain further….

It turns out that the game the principal is talking about isn't strictly water polo, but more like Japanese portball.

One person acts as the goalie and stands on the diving board, while the other two fight for the ball in the pool.

Then, when the goalie receives the ball, the team gets a point.

The team that gets the most points within the allotted time wins.

Shining Saotome: By the way, the losing team will be punished by dressing up as women for a day. When you become an idol in the future, you'll have to be able to act! By acting as a girl, your acting skills will improve!

Ryuya Hyuga: A crossdressing punishment… what the hell. The reason for doing this is absurd, as always….

Shining Saotome: If you're going to play a game, there has to be a punishment to make it interesting! AND, more than anything else, I want to see it!

Ryuya Hyuga: Ah, that's why. I guess it's no use trying to stop you anyway. You all heard him!

The ones who lose will cross-dress! Only those who are willing to say “I'm in” are welcome to join the game.

The ones who lose will dress up as women. Those words placed a heavy responsibility on them. Everyone is hesitant about stepping forward.

Select the phrase!

I'll volunteer! (+0 Love +10 Music)

Ryuya Hyuga: You will volunteer?

Haruka Nanami: Yes. If there are no other volunteers, I will.

Ryuya Hyuga: Sure, but the punishment is cross-dressing as a woman and you are a girl, so it's pointless if you do it.

Haruka Nanami: Ah….

Ryuya Hyuga: However, you should hang onto that feeling of trying something that no one else wants to do. I think that's important.

Hyuga-sensei kindly pats me on the head.

Haruka Nanami: Thank… you.

Ren Jinguji: That’s terrible, Lady. You’re trying to stand out more than me... Are you teasing me?

Jinguji-san chuckles mischievously.

Haruka Nanami: I-I didn’t mean to.

Ren Jinguji: It's okay. Guess I have to up my game if my partner is trying to outshine me.

It's a good thing that last month's fight wasn't settled. I'll take this one. Tokiya, Syo, you're going to help me out, right?

Last month's fight…?

I have a bad feeling about this….

Tokiya Ichinose: Help you? If we lose, we will have to dress up as women… won't we?

Syo Kurusu: I see, I guess so. I’d like to compete, but the cross-dressing part….

Ren Jinguji: Even if the punishment is cross-dressing, it'll be okay as long as we don't lose. Right?

Jinguji-san flashes a bold smile.

He's still full of confidence, as always. This is what I admire about him. He's so cool!

Tokiya Ichinose: I understand. Apparently the chances of success are in your favor…. Yes, it seems so. It just might be a good exercise for some variety.

Syo Kurusu: We’re definitely gonna win this!

Ren Jinguji: Phew. It’s all settled, then. Let’s pick it up from where we left off last time. Shall we, Masato Hijirikawa? Of course you’re going to take up this match.

I-I knew it!

Last month’s dispute was with Hijirikawa-sama.

At the time, the entire school was in an uproar over the Ohayaho News reporter showdown.

In the end, the principal won, and it ended in a tie between them….

Both of them seem to have become more on edge because of that….

Masato Hijirikawa: No... I….

In contrast to Jinguji-san picking fights arbitrarily, Hijirikawa-sama doesn’t seem to be too keen on conflict, so if things keep going like this, nothing will happen….

I'm sure that….

Ren Jinguji: You’re running away? Losing by default is unseemly.

Jinguji-san is provoking him into accepting the challenge.

It's just as one would expect.

Masato Hijirikawa: I wouldn't be a man if I backed down after being told that much. Fine, I’ll take you on.

I knew he was going to accept... Hijirikawa-sama is also serious about this… or rather, it’s more like a matter of pride…

In the end, the two of them seem to be destined to fight in some way.

They seem to have a complicated relationship with each other, but in a way it’s very easy to understand... I wonder if there is anything that can be done about it….

Natsuki Shinomiya: A water polo match with Syo-chan sounds very fun. Let’s do it!!

Shinomiya-san, who has been watching the exchange between Hijirikawa-sama and Jinguji-san, says that very happily and claps his hands together.

Otoya Ittoki: I don’t want to dress as a woman, but it’d be a good story if we don’t lose.

Ittoki-kun also has a daring grin on his face as he looks at Ichinose-san.

According to Tomo-chan, Hijirikawa-sama, Shinomiya-san and Ittoki-kun are all good friends in A class.

Shinomiya-san shares a room in the dormitory with Syo-kun, while Ichinose-san shares a room with Ittoki-kun.

If you think about it, this fight is between A class and S class roommates.

A confrontation of fate... maybe that’s an overstatement, but I feel some kind of invisible bond.

And so, the water polo showdown begins!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Let the water polo duel begin!

The goalie for A class is Ittoki-kun, and the goalie for S class is Ichinose-san.

Hijirikawa-sama doesn’t seem to be very good at swimming, and his movements are poor.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Hahhhhhh!

On the other hand, Shinomiya-san's movements are so inhuman…. No one can keep up with him.

He looks like he’s wearing his usual glasses, but....

I was told that he’s wearing goggles that were made to not fall off so easily.

According to Syo, these goggles’ prescription is just a little weaker than his glasses.

However, I don’t think they’re that different from his regular glasses.... I wonder where his power comes from?

Natsuki Shinomiya: Hyaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

Whenever Shinomiya-san runs through the pool shrieking, the water in the pool parts down the middle like in the story of Moses in the Old Testament.

Ren Jinguji: Ah! That guy with the goggles is a monster!

Syo Kurusu: Yeah, well, this is still okay. He becomes a real monster with his glasses off.

Masato Hijirikawa: Ittoki, Shinomiya is not normal right now. I'll follow up with you, so you just think about catching the ball as it flies by!

Otoya Ittoki: E-eeehhhhh?! Catch it? Easy for you to say, but… O-okay. I’ll give it a shot!

Masato Hijirikawa: Shinomiya, over here!

Natsuki Shinomiya: Fuuuuuuu!

Masato Hijirikawa: He can’t hear me... Then I have no choice. Ha!

Hijirikawa-sama is able to control Shinomiya-san well by throwing himself at him and waving his hands wide to get his attention.

His movements are calm and collected, and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry at all, no matter what bizarre moves Shinomiya-san makes.

Haruka Nanami: Wow... It's like Hijirikawa-sama's training a wild predator....

On the other hand, Jinguji-san is....

Ren Jinguji: Looks like stopping that monster will be hard… If that's the case, then I’ll hold Hijirikawa.

Shorty, you have to stop the ball from getting to that guy somehow.

Syo Kurusu: A-alright. I’ll see what I can do.

This is how we end up with Jinguji-san vs. Hijirikawa-sama and Syo-kun vs. Shinomiya-san.

Jinguji-san reads Hijirikawa-sama's moves, weaving around him, making feints, and blocking him from catching the ball, but….

From time to time, Shinomiya-san would come running in at high speed from an unexpected direction, so he had trouble maneuvering.

And then….

Syo Kurusu: Wahhhh! Why do you keep coming after me? Get away from me, Natsukiiiiiiiiii!!!

Shinomiya-san starts chasing after Syo-kun. It seems that Shinomiya-san has recognized him as a target.

Ren Jinguji: 5 points down and 3 minutes left to go... Let’s give up this time. Don't you agree, Icchi?

He calmly checks his watch and speaks with a seriousness I've never seen before.

I can’t believe that the word “give up” came out of Jinguji-san for any showdown….

Jinguji-san enjoys competition more than anybody and doesn’t like to lose.

Tokiya Ichinose: Looks like we don’t have a choice. At this rate, Syo’s life is in danger.

Ichinose-san, as if understanding what Jinguji-san is thinking the moment he sees his face, immediately accepts the proposal.

Ren Jinguji: Hey, Shorty. Game’s over. You can get out now.

He gives a slight signal to Hyuga-sensei, who is counting the points, and urges him to stop the game.

Ryuya Hyuga: So, the game is over! Class A wins!!!

Syo Kurusu: You don’t mind? It's cross-dressing as a woman! As a woman!

Syo-kun is splashing here and there as he wades towards Jinguji-san, who is just about to climb out of the pool.

It looks like Syo-kun hasn’t accepted defeat.

Ren Jinguji: Sometimes it’s important to know when to give up. Would you rather dress up as a woman for a day or be in a hospital bed for a few weeks, Shorty?

I wouldn’t want to win if it meant having my teammates get hurt.

Syo Kurusu: … I get it.

I see, Jinguji-san… is looking out for Syo-kun.

He has so much pride and was committed to the game, but he easily threw that away for the sake of his friends...

How sportsmanlike and cool of him.

He’s a bit harsh with his words, but he’s actually very kind. Maybe Jinguji-san cares about everyone more than anyone else.

Lately, I’ve noticed that even though he has a gentle smile when whispering sweet words to other girls....

I think the look in his eyes is kinder when he’s speaking more frankly and bluntly.

When Jinguji-san gently smiles at the girls, I feel like he’s putting on an act and is a bit different from the real him.

But when he worries over others while scolding them, his words have power and leave a deep impression on me.

It’s only a small difference, and I’m sure not many people would notice...

Jinguji-san is a kind person, but maybe he's refusing to appear to be as kind as he truly is.

Anyways, I don’t really know what he’s truly like, so I may be mistaken....

After that... S class participants had to admit defeat and dress up as women.

Ren Jinguji: Well... it’s frustrating, but let’s just admit that a loss is a loss, be mature, and take our punishment.

However, I don’t know much about wearing girls’ clothes. Can you help me? I specialize more in appreciating girls’ clothes on other people, rather than wearing them myself.

Haruka Nanami: …Uhm….

Select the phrase!

Okay!! (+20 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: If it’s okay with you, I’ll do my best!

Ren Jinguji: That’s promising. Okay, then, I'm counting on you. I need you to put your skills to work on making me the most beautiful woman in the world.

Haruka Nanami: Yes! Leave it to me

And so, I'm helping Jinguji-san change his clothes.

Haruka Nanami: Let's see... Should he wear a bra as well, after all? Should I put a pad in here…? Or maybe he doesn't need it….

Now, the skirt... I think it needs to be a little longer. It’s too mini….

He's got great style, so he'll look good in anything he wears....

Then I'd have to combine this with this... This is so much harder than picking out my own clothes on a regular basis.

Ren Jinguji: Have you decided, Lady?

I've been concentrating so much on choosing clothes that, before I know it, Jinguji-san is standing behind me.

Haruka Nanami: Oh. Yes, I’ve just decided.

When I turn around and reply, Jinguji-san huffs and smiles.

Ren Jinguji: Then dress me.

He whispers in my ear and lays his hand on my hand holding the clothes.

My back and his chest are so close. It’s as if he’s hugging me from behind.

His breath tickles my cheek, and my face naturally turns red.

Haruka Nanami: U-um.... First of all, this goes around your chest….

I press the bra into his hand.

Ren Jinguji: I guess so. That’s just the beginning. But I don’t know how to put on one of these. Won't you teach me how to put it on?

Oh, that's right... Men don’t usually wear these, so he probably wouldn't know how.

Haruka Nanami: … Okay.

I turn around and glance at Jinguji-san in his swimsuit.

He has a slender physique with no extra muscle or fat. The lines of his collarbones are beautiful. His body is really as gorgeous and well-formed as a sculpture of a Greek god….

This isn't good. I can't look directly at him. He's so dazzling.

I keep my head down as I stretch out my arms and try to put the bra on him.

Nevertheless, Jinguji-san is so tall that I won't be able to fasten the hooks properly if he doesn't get close enough.

Haruka Nanami: … Hm…

I tiptoe to stand taller and try to fasten the hooks.

Ren Jinguji: Maybe you can’t get to it?

Jinguji-san notices and bends down.

Haruka Nanami: Oh, I-I’m sorry. I'll put it on now.

I put my hands behind his back and try to fasten the hooks. As a result, my face draws close to his and my heart starts racing.

I can’t have him bend over for me forever, so I have to hurry up….

Haruka Nanami: Okay… Ah, it’s on. Thank you.

When I finish putting it on, our eyes meet for a moment and I see Jinguji-san smiling happily.

Haruka Nanami: Let's see… Next is... I think I’ll start with the camisole.

Oh, but I can't reach him like this.

Select the phrase!

Can you have a seat, please? (+20 Love +0 Music)

Ren Jinguji: Sure. I could sit on your lap if that's okay.

Haruka Nanami: On my lap? Erm... Wouldn’t that make it harder for me to reach…?

Ren Jinguji: I'm just kidding. Why do you take every single thing you do seriously?

Haruka Nanami: I-I'm sorry.

Ren Jinguji: I would love it if you acted a little more bashful.

Haruka Nanami: Eh? What did you say?

Ren Jinguji: No, nothing. It’s just that... I just thought about how vulnerable you are. A wolf might just eat you right up.

Haruka Nanami: Wolf...?

Ren Jinguji: If you don't understand, that’s okay. See? Your hands are getting sloppy.

Haruka Nanami: Oh! I'm sorry.

I help Jinguji-san change his clothes and apply makeup to his beautiful face.

Jinguji-san has a very unblemished skin, so I'm able to apply foundation well and don’t need to apply it too thickly.

Ren Jinguji: I don't like makeup that’s too thick. Can you give it a natural look?

Haruka Nanami: Y-yes. Um, please don’t close your eyes because I’m putting mascara on.

My hand trembles as I hold the mascara. I can't fail!

B-but he's so handsome. I feel so dazzled by looking at him so closely….

Ah! There's no time to be captivated. I have to work hard.

I'm very nervous and my heart's beating fast as I apply lipstick….

Still, I manage to get his makeup done.

Ren Jinguji: Hey, I make a pretty good-lookin' lady….

After finishing dressing as a woman, Jinguji-san looks in the mirror and mutters with satisfaction.

Oh, thank goodness….

Tokiya Ichinose: Seriously… you exhaust me.... You really are a narcissist.

Ren Jinguji: Really? I'm only speaking the truth though….

Syo Kurusu:Aaah, my legs are cold….

How can you guys be so unconcerned?

Tokiya Ichinose: Unconcerned? Me? No way.

Ren Jinguji: You both hate it that much? I’m having fun.

Tokiya Ichinose: You’re a special case.

Ren Jinguji: Heh. I guess I would call it being mature. Well, a child wouldn’t understand.

Syo Kurusu:Don’t call me a child!!

Tokiya Ichinose: Don’t put me on the same level as Syo. It makes me uncomfortable.

Ichinose-san looks so beautiful and Syo-kun is adorable.

And Jinguji-san looks very much like a TV personality.

Ren Jinguji: The clothes and makeup turned out great. Hey, Lady. Is there any place you want to go to?

I’m going to take you on a special trip to pay you back for helping me.

Haruka Nanami: Okay, then, I'd like to go to practice. Please, come to the recording room tomorrow.

Ren Jinguji: Heh. Thinking about practicing even now. You must like the recording room a lot. Okay! It's not a charming place, but let's do it.

Haruka Nanami: Thank you.

I’m so thrilled that he likes it!!!

It's the next day. I left the dormitory a little early and now I'm waiting for Jinguji-san.

Haruka Nanami: I wonder if… he'll come….

It's half an hour after the appointed time... I sigh as I look at the clock.

Ren Jinguji: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Haruka Nanami: Jinguji-san….

Select the phrase!

Thank you. (+20 Love +5 Music)

Ren Jinguji: It’s a promise. However, whether I take this seriously is up to you, Lady.

Now, what do you want me to do?

Haruka Nanami: Can you sing this song for me?

I hand the sheet music to Jinguji-san as I speak.

I heard Jinguji’s song during the recording test in June.

The way he sings reminds me of the way he plays the saxophone, and it brings back that feeling I had in April.

For him, his voice and the instruments are just means of conveying his overwhelming presence.

Maybe that’s what it’s all about.

For the recording test, each class will sing the assigned song and edit all their takes into a single piece of work.

It's a test of both the singer’s skills and the composer’s ability to direct his or her partner.

I prefer to listen to the song and give instructions, sometimes re-record a portion of it, and then combine the best takes to get it done. But Jinguji-san told me... "There's no need to re-record, I can do it in one take."

Really, he only had to sing it once.

And there is no room for me to interfere in his song.

I think that’s the best he can give. There’s no point in re-recording it. That’s how I feel.

His voice is overflowing with confidence, radiating presence. It's gorgeous, attractive, and has the strength to forcefully draw everyone who listens to it into his world.

But… For some reason, this song, which seems so perfect, isn't resonating with me.

I think he’s matching the sheet music perfectly, so there must be something wrong with the song. Maybe it’s because he doesn't fully understand the deeper part of the song...

Jinguji-san doesn't feel love for the song, and that’s why it feels so superficial.

If that’s the case, I need to write a song that he can love and cherish....

And so I began to write the music. This score is still pretty rough.

I’m sure that if he sings it more times, I'll definitely understand.

Ren Jinguji: Hmmm. Here....

Jinguji-san glances at the sheet music, lets go and drops it on the floor.

Ren Jinguji: It’s not enough. It would be a shame to just sing such a boring song when we’re finally alone together.

Haruka Nanami: Well... Um, it's still rough... But I’m confident I can make it better. I just need your help.

Ren Jinguji: Better… huh? If you say so, you might be right, but I don’t see your vision. I can’t see it in the sheet music you gave me.

Well, no matter what the score is, I can sing it with enough flair to pass. I’m sure of it.

So it doesn’t matter what the song is. You can keep polishing it, but you don’t have to make me help you. Am I right?

It doesn't matter?

I knew he doesn't have a lot of love for the songs, even during the recording tests.

Of course, he sounds cool enough when he sings. However, I’m sure Jinguji-san could sing much, much more amazing songs...

Haruka Nanami: Yes, you might be... But….

I can't see your “song.” Your “song” is just superficially matching the sheet music, but I can’t feel your desire to express yourself. Your “song” is not a real song….

Ren Jinguji: You can't say it's not a song. A song is just singing along to the lyrics, isn't it?

Select the phrase!

It doesn’t resonate with me. (+20 Love+0 Music)

Ren Jinguji: Resonate? If so, how can I make it resonate with you?

Haruka Nanami: I want to find the answer with you, but you won’t seriously listen to me….

He has so much to offer, but to have it end here is too much of a waste. He can sing so brilliantly without putting his heart into it, but if he did put his heart into it, it would be even more amazing. I want to hear his real song.

But in order to make it happen, he has to be motivated.

That's why I hope he'll be motivated to do something about it. That's everything I hope for….

Ren Jinguji: Unfortunately, I’ve always been kind of a jerk. I’ve never taken anything seriously. Even if you ask me to, I wouldn't know how to start.

Haruka Nanami: … Why?

Ren Jinguji: Because I’m not needed….

Haruka Nanami: Not needed?

Ren Jinguji: The only thing that the Jinguji family needs is... my oldest brother. Even in case something happens to him, there’s my second eldest brother.

No matter how diligent you are or how hard you try, you'll never get what you really want.

What… you really want?

Ren Jinguji: Besides, my brother has always snatched away the things I've felt were most important to me.

That’s why I just do whatever I want. That’s how I've been living my life. That's how I’ve always done it and how I always will....

He smiles sadly.

Ren Jinguji: Do you hate me when I’m like this? If you do, I won’t stop you. If you want, I’m willing to terminate our partnership.

Haruka Nanami: That's not…. You can’t get rid of a partner once you’ve made up your mind.

Ren Jinguji: Usually. But if, after three months, it’s decided that a pair’s taste in music doesn’t match, you’re allowed to dissolve it as long as you get permission from your classroom teacher.

Haruka Nanami: Um... So if we have different tastes, we can….

Ren Jinguji: Yeah, that's right. Didn’t you know that?

Haruka Nanami: No.

I know that, for various reasons, some partners retire, pair with others, or work hard on their own.

Is that so…? You can terminate your partnership over different tastes in music...?

Ren Jinguji: I don’t want to be held responsible for you not being able to debut.

Haruka Nanami: That's not….

Terminate our partnership?

Why is he saying that? I’ve been so fascinated by his voice….

I don’t want his talents to go to waste or give them to anyone else.

I want to make him be real, with my own hands.

That’s the only thing that’s driving me right now, and yet….

I can’t break up with my partner after all this time. If I do so, I will regret it for the rest of my life. So….

Haruka Nanami: … You're my partner, Jinguji-san. There’s no one else I want to partner with.

Ren Jinguji: How can you be so sure? I’m the lazy partner who doesn’t come to practice, remember?

Haruka Nanami: Because you are the one I need….

Ren Jinguji: You need me…? You don’t even know what I’m like.

Jinguji-san looks into my eyes with a stern gaze, as if he is testing me.

But these words don't lie. If I don’t know him, then I should. Jinguji-san has a hidden charm.

There is nothing false about my desire to bring that out in him.

Haruka Nanami: Yes, I find your voice more attractive than anyone else’s. You have a gorgeous voice. Your voice has a lot of presence.

That’s all I need to know!

When I say this emphatically, Jinguji-san’s eyes widen in surprise.

Haruka Nanami: I want you, and no one else, to sing the song I wrote.

I want your talent to blossom. This is my sincere desire right now.

Besides… I really want to do something for this person.

I can’t help but do something with this life that was saved in June.

Haruka Nanami: But... those are just my one-sided thoughts.

I'll write the song again. I'll write a song that you would like to sing with all your heart.

Ren Jinguji: A song that I'd want to sing from my heart...? That sounds interesting.

Jinguji-san smiles wryly.

Haruka Nanami: You do as you please, so the song won’t be good if I try forcing you.

That's right, even if I ask him to sing them for me, his songs won't improve.

He's got to love the song with all his heart.

Haruka Nanami: If you don't want to sing, I'll write a song that makes you want to sing!

Ren Jinguji: Oh, yeah? Looking forward to it. I’m sure this will be very interesting if you’re able to pull it off

Haruka Nanami: Yes, you can count on it.

After saying that, I leave the recording room.

Ren Jinguji: Heh. She’s a really interesting lady. It’s a little scary, actually.

As I leave the recording room, I think Jinguji-san mutters something under his breath.

I don’t know what’s going to happen now.

Maybe this was the wrong choice for my future.

I probably would have a higher chance of debuting if I gave up on Jinguji-san and started looking for a different partner.

But... I can’t just discover a raw gemstone and turn a blind eye without trying to polish it up.

So I’m going to have to face this challenge with all my might. For the sake of that man and his talent...I’ll do whatever it takes!

Mini Game

Ryuya Hyuga: We’re going to start learning music in earnest now! I’m sure you’re already arranging your assignments for class….

That’s what we’re going to have you actually play today. You’ll get a better understanding of the song by playing what you arranged.

Also, other than playing the instrumentals, it will also be easier to imagine your finished arrangement with the voice overlayed on it.

By the way, the performance level of the song is also a factor to be evaluated. Don’t get distracted!

Are you ready? Now, let’s play!

S Rank

Ren Jinguji: I see. So there’s a lot I could say. Your music soothes my soul. Maybe it’s an innate characteristic of your music.

Haruka Nanami: My music is soothing…? I’ve never received a compliment like that before. Thank you.

I’ll write more songs to soothe him.

Chapter End

#ren repeat #ren jinguji #utapri

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Dreadwrym and Dragonfire [1:  Wary]

Central Coerthas Highlands

Camp Dragonsong

One fortnight before the Steps of Faith

“What was that?”  Aymeric’s voice broke into Estinien’s thoughts.  The Azure Dragoon turned his head, seeing the Lord High Commander cross his arms and lean back in his seat.

“What was what?”

‘My blood fair sang in anticipation of our meeting?’  Aymeric repeated, crossing his arms and fixing his friend with a stern look. 

“Tis the truth.  From the moment she entered the camp, I could sense her power.”  Estinien answered.  “I admit that I was doubtful of many of the stories we have heard.  But feeling her aetherical energy in the flesh at least has quelled some of my misgivings.”  He paused.

“And for being the person who laid van Baelsar low, I at least had pictured her in my mind to be taller.”  A snort came from the other side of the room, Greystone had re-entered and caught wind of the conversation.

“I dare you to say that to her face, my lord.  She’ll cut you to ribbons with her tongue!”

“You may have an opportunity yet to see that, Silver Fuller.”  Aymeric countered, leaning back in his chair with a grin. 

“I have no time to deal with a woman’s shrewish behavior.”  Estinien interjected.  “Besides, I was not the one who kept sending out messengers to gather every scrap of information--including gossip--on her and her dealings.”  He fixed Aymeric with a gimlet look, and the Lord High Commander huffed.

“I simply wanted to know more about who we would be dealing with, tis all.”  He sighed, closing his eyes. 

“But...it is good that she has agreed to aid us.  I was fully prepared to beg on my knees, if need be.”

“Fighting mortals is one matter, but dragons are another.  I would warn you to temper your expectations, Aymeric.”  Estinien cautioned.  “Blind hope in this stranger is dangerous.”  Aymeric didn’t respond for several moments.  Then he opened his eyes, gazing at Haurchefant.

“...You know her better than the both of us.”  He said.  “Do you feel she can adjust to what we have been dealing with for decades?  My grumpy friend here makes a valid point.”

“I assure you, on that matter you need not fear!”  Haurchefant exclaimed.  “I have seen her fight--and I know the Horde will not be a match for her!  And least you forget, she charmed Ser Lasserrant of all people!”  Estinien crossed his arms at this, tilting his head.

“Ser Drillemont?”  He repeated.  “The chances of anyone, let alone an outsider earning that man’s respect is much like the Ward actually coming up with a decent battle plan.”  He steadfastly ignored Aymeric’s muffled snort-turned-cough, and Haurchefant tucked his tongue into his cheek.

“Ask him if you don’t believe me.”  He dared.  “Or even one of your dragoons stationed on the Whitebrim string.  I’m fair certain that they’ve heard Lasserrant sing her praises to the moon and back.”

“I shall.”  Estinien muttered.  Someone had to have their wits about them when it came to the Warrior of Light.  Ishgard’s safety was too precious to squander on an outsider, a powerful and dangerous one at that. 

If I am wrong, I am wrong.  If he wasn’t...well, he’d dealt with magic-users before.  For all the power that burned within the Warrior of Light, Estinien knew that he could match it with his own might.  Though for Aymeric’s sake, he would try to hope that it would not come to that.  The past several moons had brought nothing but grim tidings--and the only time Estinien had seen his friend smile was when listening to the stories of the Warrior of Light’s battles against the Empire.  If they could thwart Nidhogg’s attack on the city, it would be an even greater reprieve.

“If you have no need of me, I'll be gone then.”  He said. 

“Do give Ser Lasserrant and his men my greetings.  If you stop by, of course.”  Aymeric said.  He grinned as Estinien glared at him.

“There’s plenty of squires in the Temple Knights, use one of them as your postmoogle.”

#ffxiv #wol x estinien #estinien x wol #wolstinien #wol riven #riven fortemps #the forbidden tools #help i came up with another fic idea #estinien varlineau #estinien wyrmblood

[voidbears-oc-stash]

Plasmid: then allow me to clear it up! *a GUSH of the ooze rushes from his face completely covering him and expands as green eyes appear all over the top of it and a LARGE fanged mouth cracks open! as it shapes into a humanoid form! matching Fusion in height! Plasmid's mutated form, baby! he uses his last bit of control to let out a roar mixed with a sentence!* THIS IS WHAT SHE WAS TRYING TO FIX! RAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! *he SLAMS into Fusion at FULL force and grabs His arm before they fall from it and SWINGS them INTO the treeangle! SMASHING them into it HARD before bringing his fists and PUNCHES fusion in the chest! HARD using the Treeangle as a wall to try'n keep him in place! Plasmid roaring REAL loud! in furry! Jackxy looks at Canni* Jackxy: yer friend's not REALLY good at deescalation IS he?!

Cannibal does a light shrug "It depends on the situation."

Fusion shook his head a little "I CAN HEAL YOUR SISTER!" he yells. "I JUST DIDN'T KNOW! Jeez!"

"And it also depends on if the person attacking him listens to what he has to say." Cannibal says. "If that guy ignores Fusion, there's a high likelihood that the 'deescalation' is just knocking him out."

Cannibal's mech suit flashes gold a few times again.

"I think Will is trying to say that he's experienced it before. Which he has. He was infected with that parasite Fusion mentioned at one point before Fresh, that pink cyclops cat, was. Golden fire was everywhere. Once he had his senses knocked back into him he went into hiding for years." Cannibal explained. "I assure you, that fight was both horrifying and exciting to watch."

#oc roleplay #jax #cannibal and his shape mech #fusion the shape demigod

[mego42]

for @foxmagpie

#trying to fix and match the lighting in these was a personal attack i will not soon forget #also i've already watched this on a loop an ungodly amount of times #nbc good girls #good girls nbc #goodgirlsedit #beth x rio #nbcgoodgirlsdaily #my edit #the vending machine is open

[radiant-reid]

A memorable hero

Summary: Y/n jumps into the arms of a random FBI agent when she unknowingly talks to a creepy unsub. Requested here

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Content Warning: some CM type case details | mentions of a creepy guy

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist Navigation

"Hey, can you pretend to be my boyfriend for a few minutes?"

It was definitely not the question Spencer expected to hear when he got tapped on the shoulder. He had been given the task of delivering the profile to the local bartender, with the hope she had seen the unsub.

It was an old bar in Philadelphia swarming with people under the dim lighting. Morgan was trying to find out if any of the bar patrons had seen who they were looking for. Spencer knew that meant he was showing his badge off to any pretty girl who asked, and they often did, and being brought drinks that he couldn't drink.

The girl in front of him, wearing a tight olive green dress, didn't wait for an answer. She sat down next to him, close and in his personal space. He would have minded, but her perfume smelt really nice.

"Uh, y-yeah, okay." Spencer rather awkwardly agreed, figuring he was fumbling because of how close she was, not because of how soft her hair looked or how captivating her eyes color was or how pretty she was.

"Thanks." She gratefully smiled, linking her arm around his and resting her head on his bicep. If it were possible, she moved even closer to him, so her side was right against his body.

Spencer's lack of experience meant he was unsure of what to do as a fake boyfriend. Tentatively, he wrapped an arm around her waist. "A-are you, uh, okay?" He asked, looking down at her to realize how together their faces were.

She nodded, shifting her head on his shoulder. "Just this creepy guy." That caught Spencer's attention. The unsub profiled as off-putting to women, and had to resort to blitz attacks to subdue them. "Usually, you tell them you have a boyfriend, and they leave you alone, but this guy was tenacious." She explained, far too casually for his liking. Spencer tried to focus his attention on the fact the report she was giving matched the profile. "You're like law enforcement or something, right?"

Spencer reached into his pants pocket, pulling out his identification to show her. It was pretty easy to understand why she might not trust a strange guy at a bar. "I'm in the FBI." He told her.

"You looked trustworthy, Spencer Reid." She commented, unaware how his heart flipped when she said his name, positive it had never sounded as good. The way her eyes shined was enough to light up the bar and more than enough to fully captivate his attention.

His concentration was so focused on her he failed to notice Morgan sliding into the seat next to him. "Pretty boy, what are you up to?" All but jumping out of his skin, Spencer's head whipped around to see his friend.

"Morgan, I, um, I'm just t-talking to..." It only occurred to him then that he had no idea what her name was. He didn't know anything about the girl wrapped around his arm, besides the fact she was being approached by some guy, which was an all too common situation.

"Hi, I'm Y/n." She introduced herself, reaching out to shake Morgan's hand. He was admiring everything about her, but especially how friendly she was. "I was just borrowing Spencer, or what was it? Pretty boy." The nickname had gotten her attention, mainly because of how true it was. When she flung herself at him, she definitely hadn't expected him to be so attractive.

Morgan chuckled. "That's because of his boyish good looks." He told her. "Why? Do you not think it suits?"

Spencer cringed so hard he almost physically winced. He'd never cared if people thought he was attractive because most of his time was focused on whether or not people thought his actions were abnormal.

"I think gorgeous boy fits better," Y/n answered, her eyes fixed on his reddening cheeks.

Spencer was so sure his heart was thumping loud enough both she and Morgan could hear it, only making him more embarrassed. Hearing women with a fraction of her beauty compliment him was not something that happened regularly, so for her to be saying that was nothing short of a miracle. It was almost too fun to watch him squirm.

Eventually, it had to end. "I should, uh, go, though. Isn't it a federal crime to waste FBI agents' time?" She joked, pulling away from Spencer.

"No, wait, you can't!" Spencer quickly blurted out, earning a surprised look from Morgan. "Y/n might have seen the unsub." He explained.

Morgan hummed because chuckling. "Mhm, sure, Reid." He clearly didn't think Spencer was being truthful.

Desperate to prove his point, a common occurrence, Spencer turned to Y/n. "What did he look like?" When she frowned, he explained. "The creepy guy."

"Uh, dirty blond, maybe 5'10, and he had this scar above his eyebrow." Y/n described, trying to remember what he looked like. Turning to Morgan, Spencer relished the feeling of being right. "What really made me uncomfortable was how fixed he was on my hair, plus he had the crazy eyes."

"Damn, you've just always got to be right, Reid, don't you?" Morgan observed, shaking his head. "Walk her home, and I'll call Hotch. There's no way he could have dodged all these cameras." He informed both of them, getting out of his seat and pulling out his phone. He turned back to look at them. "It was nice to meet you, sweetheart." She could tell he was a flirt, which was amusing when Spencer was so just too stunning for Y/n's attention to be on anyone else.

When Spencer looked back at Y/n, she had a prominent frown on her expression. "How were you right?" She questioned, suddenly interested in criminal psychology.

"I'll walk you home and tell you." Spencer offered, knowing what would happen as soon as she was out of his sight. He'd seen the crime scene photos, and no one deserved that, but it would be much harder if it was someone he knew, someone he knew he could have saved.

Y/n agreed when she saw the grave expression on his face, letting him guide her out of the bar. Even as she walked, she looked elegant. Outside, it was just as dark as it was cold. Spencer quickly shrugged off his cardigan, placing it gently around her shoulders.

It smelt exactly like him, but Y/n knew she couldn't wear it. "I can't take it, but, seriously, thank you."

"Adults actually get between two and four colds and can't stand the fact I could be responsible for up to 50% of your yearly infection." Spencer kept it around her shoulder quickly.

She just shook her head with a giggle, slipping her arms into Spencer's clothing. "You're honestly too cute." She told him.

Spencer was sure the blush on his cheeks wasn't just from how cold it was. He froze up when she complimented him. "Uh, t-thanks." He said in such a high pitch that it sounded like a question.

"You're so welcome," Y/n replied with a grin. "Now, tell me all the FBI secrets. Unless, maybe, you just wanted to walk me home?" She teased, knowing his reaction wasn't going to be standard.

It delivered. "N-no, I promise that wasn't it." He spat out. "Not that you're, uh, not very pretty." He was really fumbling for words, beat red as he tried not to make her uncomfortable. In truth, he was already second-guessing everything he'd said to her, and it was torturous. "I just mean, you are, uh, really beautiful." He paused to slow himself with an awkward laugh. "Which is why the unsub would have hit you over the head once you were alone." He hated that his default reaction was to state facts in such an unexpressive tone.

"Gruesome," Y/n commented, screwing up her face. She leaned in closer to him, feeling the heat coming off his body. "So, you know, that makes you my hero?"

Spencer couldn't shake his head fast enough. "I'm really not."

"You saved my life tonight." Y/n reminded him of what he'd said. He thought about arguing, but he could imagine seeing her face on the crime scene photos.

"So your team is off to catch the guy now?" Y/n asked, glancing downward when she realized how close their hands were, almost brushing together as they walked.

Spencer nodded. "Morgan would have called Garcia, who would run her facial recognition software on the video, sent us an address, and we'd go arrest him." He recounted the familiar process.

"Seems like it's this Garcia who does most of the work." She noted playfully.

"Everyone thinks I'm the smart one, but I think they're wrong." Spencer agreed, thinking about the one member of their team still at Quantico.

"Why do they think that?" Y/n asked, earning a frown from Spencer who didn't understand her question. "That you're the smart one."

He knew his slip of words would make him seem egotistical if he had to explain it. "I, uh, h-have three P.h.Ds." He admitted, cringing as he spoke.

It was not the answer she was anticipating, probably, because it didn't seem humanly possible. "Wow, that's impressive." She acknowledged, her footsteps stilling when she reached her apartment. "Um, this is it." Why her apartment wasn't a four-hour walk, she didn't know, but she wished he didn't have to go. "Do you want this back?" She asked, ready to take his cardigan off her shoulders despite how warm it was.

It was his absolute favorite but Spencer didn't hesitate to shake his head. "No, you can keep it... if you want." He quickly looked around the empty street, his eyes scanning for any danger. "Well, it was n-nice to meet you, and I'm glad you're safe."

"So, Doctor Reid, was this just a one-time thing... or do I get to see you again?" Y/n wondered, a little more shy. Could she get arrested for flirting with an on-duty FBI agent? If she could, it was a risk worth taking, even if there was a 0.01% chance of him saying yes.

Spencer fumbled with his pocket as he tried to find a card, making her giggle when he dropped them all over the ground. "I'd, um, really love to see you again." He stated, clearing his throat.

"Okay, so you should probably hand me that card then." Y/n joked, noticing how tightly he was holding the card he failed to give her. She was going to get that number if she had to tear it from his hand or call every Garcia and Morgan in the phone book until one of his colleagues answered.

He handed her the card, smiling awkwardly. At the worst time possible, his phone buzzed. "I've, uh, got to go, but you'll call, right?" He didn't want to seem too desperate.

"Of course." Y/n leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek which immediately made his cheek bright red and warm to the touch. "Thanks for being my hero."

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x y/n #mgg #mgg x reader #spencer reid x you

[luvsersi]

Can you write something about the reader going to a premiere and she gets attacked by a fan or something like that and Tom gets really protective and worried? I love your writing it’s so good!

Girlfriend

Tom Holland x fem!reader

A/n: Tysm for the request! Wasn’t sure if you wanted Y/n as his date or as a fan but I just made her his date. Enjoy! (:

Warnings: rude fans, anxiety, swear words, yelling, paparazzi (idk if that’s a warning but yk), kinda angsty but not really

Word count: 875 

“Tom? Are you ready sweetheart?” You asked Tom who was sitting in the back of the limo right next to you. The two of you were going to the Far from Home world premiere and Tom was a tad nervous. Premieres and big events like this often triggered his anxiety but you were always there to help him and calm him down.

You felt him breathing heavy and squeeze your hand as tight as he could. You turned a little to his side and cupped one of his cheeks with your other hand.

“Thomas? It’s gonna be okay. When we’re finished here we can go back into bed and cuddle. I promise it’s gonna be okay.”

He gave you a smile and kissed the palm of your hand. “You promise we can go back to bed?”

You nodded. “Yea. Now let’s go out and show everyone the amazing work you’ve made.” He opened the door and you could hear the screaming from fans when he stepped out of the car. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, the screaming becoming even louder.

You felt Tom squeeze your hand and tense up because of the screaming, yelling and bright lights from paparazzi everywhere.

“Hey- ” You whispered. “It’s okay.” You assured him and he nodded his head giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You fixed your dress and Tom slid his arm around your waist. You walked up to the carpet and immediately heard fans screaming even louder and trying to reach Tom.

Tom looked at you and he was absolutely mesmerized. You looked so beautiful with your open-back silk dress and silky hair. Earlier Tom had insisted you’d wear a color similar to his suit so the two of you could match, which you did.

“Tom what do you say we go up to a couple of your fans and answer some questions?” You asked him.

“Yeah that’d be great” He smiled. You walked over to some fans, his hand still on your waist and starting making conversation with them.

You passed a couple of girls wanting to take a picture with Tom. “Should I take the photo?” You offered and the girls nodded.

You took a couple of steps back and got ready to take the photo.

“Oh no Y/n you get in here too!” One of the girls said and gestured you to come over. Your face lit up and you skipped back to Tom and the girls.

Most of his fans we’re extremely nice and supportive of your relationship.

Others were… well not. Due to the constant screaming and shouting from everyone around you Tom wasn’t really able to hear everything going on. He moved a few meters away from you to talk to some of his fans. That was when some of his less polite fans took their chance to speak with you.

“Y/n?” A girl asked you, poking your arm. You turned around to face the girl greeting her with a smile. “That’s my name! How are you?”

“I just want to say that I don’t think you deserve Tom. He is way out of your league. I don’t even understand why he is with someone like you.”

The girl stared you down, making your insecurities rise and not knowing what to say. Another person standing right behind the girl agreed.

“Exactly. What does he even see in you? You’re probably just using him for his money. Besides no offense, but you’re not that pretty as people say you are. I’d say you’re slightly.. ugly.”

The other girl was about to go on again but suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” It was Tom. And he did not sound happy. He sounded rather offended. The girls faces went pale.

“Oh no, no we were just-”

“No I know damn well what you ‘were just’. What do you think you’re doing?” He had raised his voice.

“No we were just kidding!” The girls slightly chuckled trying to get out of the situation.

Tom was getting riled up and he clenched his jaw. You tried to take his hand in attempt to get him to calm down, but did not succeed.

He started yelling and the screaming crowd around you stopped screaming completely.

“Who the hell do you think you are to talk to her like that? I don’t know if you need to hear this to get some sense into your little brain but she is my girlfriend. I’m so tired of people like you. You’re not fans when you speak to my girlfriend like that.”

Tom looked at them and saw that they had the audacity to stick out their posters to get them signed.

He sighed and snatched the posters out of their hands only to throw them on the floor.

“I’m not going to sign your fucking stuff! You should learn to shut your mouthes and gain some respect!”

He took your hands and walked inside with you.

“I’m so sorry darling. They were just being such dicks I couldn’t help myself.” He apologized and seemed genuinely upset. He turned to face you and you pulled him in for a hug.

“Thank you Thomas.”

.

.

.

.

Another a/n: I feel like I got kinda lazy with this?? Idk I hope u guys liked it though

#tom holland #marvel #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #fanfic #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #sersi writes #fem!reader #mcu #tom holland fluff

[jakesavocado]

Who Would Have Guessed? || P.SH

Pairing: Sunghoon x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (Unprotected Sex)

Words: 1.48k

Warnings: 18+ content, read at your own discretion

Synopsis: Your brother's best friend comes over for some video games, only to end up spending the night with you.

﹅﹅★

“Y/n! Can you get the door? It’s probably Sunghoon,” your brother Heeseung shouted from the bathroom. Groaning in annoyance, you got up off your bed and quickly stomped to the door, pulling it open to reveal your brother’s best friend. He smiled at you, brushing past your shoulder without a word. You watched the way he sauntered up the stairs, most likely entering Heeseung’s room for another night full of video games. Rolling your eyes, you went back to your room, getting back to the book you had been reading.

Hours passed, but the boys’ yelling didn’t cease. You wondered why your parents didn’t tell them to keep it down. But then you remembered, if they were home, Sunghoon wouldn’t have been here in the first place. Having enough of their chaos, you huffed and walked over to your brother’s door. As usual, it was locked. You pounded on the door with your fist, not stopping until you heard the lock click on the other side. Instead of Heeseung, Sunghoon poked his head around from behind it, giving you that same, kind but forced smile.

“Can you guys be quiet? I’m trying to sleep.”

Sunghoon’s smile widened. It only looked more insincere. “Sure thing. We’ll try our best.” He didn’t wait for a reply, slamming the door shut on your face. Scoffing, you turned around and returned to your room, trying your best to fall asleep before their chaotic shouts reached your ears again.

Spoiler alert; it didn’t work. You stared at the ceiling, completely exhausted. It was almost 4 in the morning and though your body was tired, you couldn’t seem to get any rest. There was no noise coming from your brother’s room, a sign that the two boys had put their games away and most likely gone to sleep.

Unsure of what to do, you left your bed and ventured downstairs, in dire need of a glass of water. You didn’t bother turning on the lights, mind too fatigued to worry about anything spooky. As you sipped your water, you heard a creak near the stairs. Whipping your head towards the sound, your eyes widened when you saw a tall figure standing in the shadows. “Heeseung?” you called, setting the glass down on the counter. The lights flickered on, revealing the silhouette’s identity. “It’s me,” Sunghoon said, walking into the kitchen. He saw your half-empty glass and picked it up, downing the water inside it, all in one gulp. “You could’ve gotten your own glass you know,” you said, unamused. Sunghoon tsked. “You were done with it anyways.” Scoffing in disbelief, you crossed your arms over your chest. “No I wasn’t. I just put it down cause I saw you creeping around in the dark.” Sunghoon grinned. “I wasn’t creeping around. I just couldn’t sleep.”

He kept his eyes fixed on yours, poised expression not faltering even in the slightest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s weird,” you said, in an attempt to disturb the unsettling silence that fell over the room. “Don’t flatter yourself y/n,” he said, licking his lips while running a hand through his hair.

“Why are you even awake,” he asked? Why was he trying to keep up a conversation with you? Never once in his five years of knowing Heeseung, had he ever spoken to you for so long. You were breaking records tonight. “I’m awake because you and Heeseung were being too damn loud,” you shared, still quite bitter that you were missing out on some much-needed sleep.

Sunghoon laughed apologetically. “Sorry about that. We were having a tense match.” You didn’t care how serious their match was. It was no reason for you to lose sleep over. How very inconsiderate of them both, especially Sunghoon. He seemed to read your mind, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

You weren’t expecting him to ask you that, but now that he had, you didn’t know what to say. You shrugged. “How about you put me to sleep?” It was a sarcastic remark, but you noticed the way Sunghoon seemed to consider it. Somehow, you went from standing at the kitchen counter to being tucked under the covers of your bed together.

Sunghoon made sure to keep a fine gap between you. This was new for both of you.

“I can’t believe you’re in my room right now,” you said, thinking out loud. He smiled. “Me neither.”

You sat up, turning towards him. “How come we’re actually getting along? I mean, I always thought you were a douche like Heeseung, but honestly, you’re not that bad.”

Sunghoon surely hadn’t expected to be perceived that way. He shrugged. “I guess it’s just my charming personality that really draws you Lee’s in.”

You threw your pillow his way, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous comment. “You’re delusional.”

Sunghoon caught the pillow and tossed it back at you. Yelping, you threw it back at him, this time more forcefully, and took another pillow in your hands to defend yourself. Sunghoon chuckled and got on his knees, raising the pillow above his head. “Are we seriously having a pillow fight,” he asked dubiously? You shrugged and hit him with your pillow. “I guess we are.”

He managed to dodge your next attack, lunging forward to slam his pillow on your head. You fell on your back, holding your pillow above your face protectively. Sunghoon whacked it out of your hands, toppling over and falling flat on top of you. He froze, as did you. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest, breath hitching when he pushed himself up hovering over you. His eyes locked with yours, shining in the dark. You had no idea why you were having such a hard time looking away from him. Sunghoon’s eyes wavered from your eyes to your lips. Without so much as a second thought, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You found yourself closing your eyes and kissing him back. Sunghoon grabbed your waist, moving his lips against yours passionately. The kiss escalated quickly, with you tugging at the hem of his shirt, wanting it off. Sunghoon sat up, pulling you with him and made you sit on his lap. He threw his shirt to the side, doing the same with yours. His lips were back on yours in a matter of seconds, fingers reaching behind your back to unhook your bra. He didn’t bother pulling it off, choosing to leave it be. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, playing with the hair on the back of his head. Sunghoon hummed as you rolled your hips over his. You could feel him starting to harden up underneath you. The sensation made wetness pool in your panties.

“Is the door locked,” he asked, pulling away from your lips for a moment? You glanced behind your shoulder. “I don’t think it is but what’s there to worry about? Heeseung sleeps like he’s dead anyway.”

Sunghoon laughed and kissed your shoulder, going down till the valley of your breasts. Your head fell back, lips parting in awe. Sunghoon groaned against your skin. He was going to cum in his pants if you kept grinding on him like that. So, he made you sit up, tugging your shorts down your legs. He pulled his own pants down, throbbing member slapping up proudly. You took it in your hands, angling his tip at your entrance. Sunghoon held your waist, biting his lip as you sunk down on his cock. He was bit, stretching you out incredibly. Sunghoon guided your hips over his cock, lips finding yours again. You moaned into his mouth, clinging onto him desperately. “Hmm you feel so good,” he praised, squeezing your thighs. You cursed and pulled his body close, nails digging into his shoulders. Sunghoon ran his tongue over your collar bone, sucking on it softly. You mewled and kept bouncing over his cock, feeling a knot begin to form in your stomach. “Are you close,” he asked, feeling the way your walls clenched around his cock? You nodded frantically, not able to form the words to say it. “Me too,” he said, starting to buck his hips up into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you warned a while later, toes curling in bliss. Sunghoon grunted, pulling your hips down on his one last time before his cum spurt out into your walls. You moaned, feeling your orgasm hit as a result. Sunghoon dragged your hips over his, riding out your high.

You smiled giddily, placing a small kiss on his lips. Sunghoon returned your smile, not wanting to let go of you. “This was nice,” you spoke, biting back a grin. Sunghoon agreed. “Your brother’s gonna kill me.”

- ♡ -

requested by anon

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #kpop smut

[cinebration]

None Like You (Geralt x Reader) [Request]

hi! can you do a geralt one shot with fem reader where she's a princess and they start falling for each other? tysm! — Request by anon

Warnings: blood

Gif Source: frodo-sam

Your mother had raised you to believe you were someone of importance, but life on the farm had said otherwise. You toiled just like everyone else, bleeding and sweating. You were soiled, not spoiled. Yet your mother insisted you were a princess and told you outrageous bedtime stories to lull you to sleep in your youth.

You should have paid better attention.

When King Henselt’s only son died, leaving only a marriage and no heirs, you woke one morning to the pounding of a mailed fist on the door. Your mother answered and then hurried into your room, fluttering about like a mad woman.

“It’s time,” she cried, shoving you into your best dress and raking her fingers through your hair.

“For what?”

“To be someone.”

Then she bundled you out the door into the arms of a military escort carrying the Kaedwan sigil on their shields and tunics: a red-horned unicorn on a yellow field.

It took you the whole day to finally coax information out of your escort regarding the whole ordeal. When they told you what you were, you nearly fell out of your saddle in disbelief.

The king must be desperate, you thought as you tried to fall asleep beside the campfire.

Then the night turned bloody.

~~

Something crunched underfoot to your right. You huddled deeper in the hollowed tree, clutching the steel in your hands. The edges had sliced open your palms, but you didn’t care. It afforded you some protection, even if the creature had snapped the blade it came from like a twig.

Tensing, you waited for the sound to draw nearer, coiling to spring. It was just like killing chickens, you told yourself. One neat slice to the throat.

You leapt out of the hollow, slashing up and across.

The witcher caught your wrist easily, flinging the steel out of your hand. Stifling a cry, you cradled the injured hand to your chest, backed away from him. His eerie yellow eyes tracked you as you pressed yourself against the tree trunk, searching for an escape.

“What happened?” His voice rasped like feet dragged over gravel.

“Death,” you whispered, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the massacre. “Some…thing.”

“It’s dead now.”

You fixed him with a wary glance. “Truly?”

He grunted.

You nearly sank to your knees in relief. Pressing a hand to your mouth, you felt the cuts in your hand spasm. Fresh blood wept from the slashes, trickling down your arms. The witcher swept his gaze over you, eyeing the wounds. You fumbled with the hem of your dress, trying to rip the dirty fabric into strips.

“Did you fight it?” The surprise in the witcher’s voice drew your ear.

You wheezed. “I slashed it, yes, but fight? No.”

Rummaging around in the leaves on the forest floor, the witcher retrieved the broken steel, examined it. He swore.

Unease coiled within you. “What is it?”

“Come here.”

You hesitated. The witcher rolled his eyes and strode over to you, grabbing you by the wrist. His touch was firm but not tight, much to your surprise. You followed after him, feeling a little dizzy as he led you over to the road. A horse stood idly there, kind eyes inquisitive. It didn’t shy away as you drew near despite the smell of blood.

“Good horse,” you murmured, appraising it.

The witcher fumbled through a saddlebag, searching for something. At last he pulled out a vial and took your hands, tearing off the strips to get to your wounds. He poured the grey contents of the vial out before you could protest.

You nearly screamed, the pain in your hands was so excruciating. Lighting shot up your arms as the vial’s contents fizzed on your palms and in your wounds.

“To prevent the venom from killing you,” the witcher explained.

“If the pain doesn’t kill me first,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

A smirk tugged on the witcher’s lips, followed quickly by a frown. “What were you doing traveling with those soldiers?”

You hesitated again. What had you heard about witchers? That they fought for coin and hunted monsters. You had no coin, but neither did you know where you were or how to get home.

“King Henselt sent them,” you confided slowly. “They believe I am his bastard daughter.”

“A princess.”

You elected to ignore the mild groan in the man’s voice. “Can you take me home? The farm, not Aed Carraigh.”

His yellow eyes fixed on you again, white eyebrows beetling together. “You don’t want to go to the castle?”

“Is it safe? As safe as home?”

His lips pressed into a thin line.

“Then take me home,” you insisted. “I’m no princess.”

~~

The witcher smelled. You couldn’t ignore it, not with your face pressed into his back. He wasn’t made for traveling with someone sitting behind him. You could feel it in the tension of his shoulders and back, as though he couldn’t relax beneath the touch of your arms. You did your best to relax your own tense grasp.

You had run nigh over a mile before collapsing in the hollowed tree trunk. The horse covered the distance easily, passing by the smoldering, bloody encampment you had settled down in the night before. You watched it pass, glimpsing the heaps of bodies scattered about.

It took several hours to draw near home. Joy fluttered in your chest as you approached.

You crested the ridge overlooking home and went still, horror rolling through you. The farm house was ash and rubble, still smoking. The animals had been let from their pens, taken for livestock by whatever had rolled through the farm.

“Bandits,” the witcher noted.

Fighting nausea, you wandered down to the burnt house, searching in the ruins. The ash burned your hands and legs, but you sifted through it, yanking aside a crumbling beam.

Beneath lay your mother. What was left of her.

You retched off to the side, stumbling through the ash. You stood bent at the waist for an eternity before you felt the witcher watching you. Turning to face him, you wiped the sick from your chin. “I can’t stay here.”

He frowned.

Your mother had raised a practical woman, fantastic fantasies about your lineage aside. It was all you could think to do as you stood in the ashes of your dead life. One foot in front of the other.

“I have no money,” you confessed, “but if King Henselt sent for me, he can pay you to ensure my arrival.”

The witcher considered it. At last he growled and nodded.

~~

It would take four days to reach Aed Carraigh. The horse—named Roach, you learned—could only manage that distance in a shorter time if not burdened with two riders.

You sat close to the campfire, warming yourself in the flames, shaking not from cold but from fear as the night closed in around you. The night held terrors untold, but until the night before, you had never seen them in the flesh. Knowing they lingered out in the dark set your teeth on edge.

“I’m sorry to burden you,” you told the witcher, the silence too much to bear. You watched the horse warily for signs of attack, knowing the animal was likely to hear or sense it before you.

“Why don’t you want to be a princess?”

Taken aback by the unexpected question, you shrugged. “Why would I want to be one?”

“Riches. A comfortable life.”

“I had a comfortable life with riches untold. They just weren’t gold.”

“Gold is necessary.”

“Gold means nothing if your life is miserable.”

The words hung heavy in the air. The witcher averted his gaze, surprising you. Frowning, you rubbed at your arms, trying to make the hair on your arms stand down. His averted face gave you the opportunity to study his features. They were rough and worn, his brow creased from excessive glowering. He was all hard edges, a larger man than even the largest farmer you had seen. He appeared both comfortable and uncomfortable in his own skin, or perhaps your presence was upsetting him.

“Am I keeping you from work?”

“Are you always so concerned for witchers?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Yet there you sit.”

You bit your tongue, surprised by the sting of his barb. Something flickered across his stern features as you ducked your head. “Then tell me where to go and I will get there myself.”

“The road is dangerous.”

“Being a woman is dangerous.”

He almost smiled in surprise. You could see it dancing on his lips.

“So tell me where to go,” you insisted. “Then I can leave your remarkable hair.”

His eyebrows twitched. The silence stretched between you both for a minute, the fire crackling in the quiet. At last, he said, “I will take you.”

You almost gave away your relief with a sharp exhale.

~~

Though the witcher was a man of few words, you found you were able to read more from his face and the set of his shoulders than from anything he said. His silences were full of information, though you couldn’t be sure of what exactly. You merely knew that he radiated safety as much as he did danger.

“Do you know many princesses?” you asked him.

He grunted.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“I know one or two,” he said. “But none like you.”

You frowned, glancing down at your soiled dress. “Yes, I suppose I’m nothing like one. The people will be overjoyed with a farmer’s daughter.” You snorted.

“I think they could use one.”

Frowning, you glanced up at him. He didn’t quite smile, but the glower on his face had shifted into something softer.

“Well, when I am princess,” you said, “I will remember at least one person believes me suited for the job. That’s all that matters.”

A faint smile touched the witcher’s lips. You matched it with a slow smile of your own.

#Geralt x Reader #Geralt #Geralt imagine #Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt of Rivia imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #The Witcher #requests

[the-original-skipps]

Fluffy Alphabet A-Z

Sano Manjiro aka Mikey

Note: Thank you so much for 100+ followers. I wouldn't have been able to get his far without your support. I'm super overjoyed and glad that you guys take the time to read my writing. I love you all very much as promised I hope you enjoy the fluffy alphabet! 💗

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

> Mikey likes to go for rides on his CB205T and he likes to bring you along. He just loves the feeling of the wind passing and your presence behind him. Maybe sharing some snacks while you both watch the sunset or the starry night sky, talking about random things. He just generally likes being around you even if you're both just sitting in silence.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

> He admires your determination and strong will. Since Mikey is mentally weak, he admires those traits in other people. No matter what you'd always be there to scold him or comfort him. It reminds him of his older brother.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

> Mikey instantly knows if you're feeling down, he just senses it. He'll bring you somewhere where they could both be alone maybe a park or he'll drive somewhere and sit you down. Mikey won't force you to tell him what's wrong but if you do he'll be listening intently. He's not the best at comforting people but makes sure to let you know that he's here for you.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

> Now this is a hard topic to answer. Mikey has pictured a future with his s/o, living in peace after all the rush during his teenage years. However, he doesn't see it happening because he knows it's best if he keeps his s/o away from him in the future.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

> I'd say he's both but mostly on the passive side. He lets you take the lead since he doesn't know much about being in a relationship. He'll be given advice and teased by his close friends but he'll keep their words in mind.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

> Mikey is pretty stubborn and doesn't like losing. If it's a petty harmless arguement, if he's wrong then he'll muttering an apology to you and completely forget about it. It's difficult to get into a serious argument with him unless it's something concerning him or Toman. Say the things he needs to hear even if himself doesn't agree with you. Then he'll leave to give himself space and think about things. Be patient with him because eventually he'll come around.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

> Mikey is very grateful for you being by his side even though he thinks he doesn't deserve it. He appreciates every gesture you do for him from the big things and to the little things such as making him lunch or fixing his hair or just being by his side when he feels he's losing himself.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

> Mikey doesn't hide things, if you ask him something he will directly answer you. He has no trouble talking about a past event since it already happened. Even though he doesn't want you getting involved with Toman, he still tells you about how they're doing or what they're up to. The only things he wouldn't share are his true feelings and his dark impulsivities since he doesn't want to scare you.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

> Just by being by Mikey's side you are a positive influence on him. It will take a long time but little by little he tries to open up about his true feelings and tries to rely on you more. Everytime you sense he's distancing himself, you would have to drag him back and knock some sense into him.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

> Mikey is definitely the type to get jealous easily and his childish tendencies tend to come out. If he sees you getting too friendly with someone he'll keep staring until he's had enough and say "(Y/N) is mine, hmph!" With a cute pout on his face. Be sure to coddle him afterwards because he might give you the silent treatment.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

> Mikey has no experience whatsoever. He has no idea how kisses work. It'll be super rare to get a kiss from Mikey since he's not used to being affectionate. If you're lucky he'll peck you on your cheek or kiss your hands occasionally. Your first kiss with him wasn't planned. Both of you were alone and you were just admiring him as he talked and pressed a light kiss on his lips. He was instantly shocked by what you did as he traces over his lips with his fingers but inside he's feeling all warm. He never knew kisses from you would have this kind of affect on him.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

> It took long time for Mikey to realize that what he felt towards you was more than just friendship. He confessed this to Draken and he replied "huh, obviously you like them you idiot. Hurry up and go tell them." In which Mikey replies by telling Draken to do the same for Emma. It happened when he came to pick you up from school one day on his motorcycle and brought you to the riverside. "I finally understand what I feel, (Y/N). I like you... You don't have to give me an answer right away, I'll wait however long it takes..."

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

> Another hard topic to answer. When Mikey fell for you he fell hard. As much as he wants to spend the rest of his life in peace with you, it won't happen. That is until he goes through "certain changes" and let's say he did. You'll be riding with him on his motorcycle on Christmas until he stops at a certain place. He'll start talking about his past and the times you've spent together. Then talking about how much he appreciates you and thanks you then pops the question. The wedding will be small and privately held with only people close to him and you are invited.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

> It is known that Mikey gives nicknames to those who are close to him. It depends on what your first name is. He'll most likely you use the first syllable of your name plus -chin, -cchi or -chy. Only when he's serious will he use your real name.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

> Honestly, it can be really hard to tell unless you really observe Mikey. You would notice he stares at you longer, or everytime your name pops up in a conversation he's interested. Draken is definitely the first the notice this change in Mikey and teases him for it, while Mikey denys it. The others will slowly start to notice this too. Especially, when he bought an extra taiyaki and gave it to you. Takemichy's jaw dropped at the scene.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

> Mikey won't be announcing to everyone that he has an s/o. However, if someone asks he'll answer honestly. I wouldn't use the word "brag" but he will say nice about you to others. For Mikey, intimate gestures such as kissing are only between the two of you. If someone catches the both of you, Mikey wouldn't be pleased.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

> You wouldn't have to worry about anyone trying to flirt with you or trying to hurt you not when Mikey's around. Mikey cares deeply about you and would give his life to protect you. You wouldn't have to worry about other people trying to flirt with Mikey either since you already have his heart, he'll simple brush them off. He's loyal.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

> As I have mentioned earlier, Mikey has no experience with relationships. You would have to teach him things. Still there will be moments that might seem simple to others but to you, you know it's a way Mikey shows his love for you. For example, draping his jacket over your shoulders or buying an extra snack so you could have some too. If he's not busy with Toman matters, he would want to spend his time with you.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

> Mikey would genuinely support your dreams and passions, telling you to never give up on them. He believes in you with his whole heart, and he knows you would be able to make your goals come true.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

> He would like to try things he never experienced before with you, like taking pictures at the photo booth or going shopping for matching keychains. That being said, what Mikey likes the most is the constant reassurance that you're here for him. Routines like going riding on his motorcycle or just talking with you, it what he like most. He's scared that one day you'd leave him so these mundane routines assures him.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

> You would think Mikey is the forgetful type but he actually pays attention to things. He'll notice you eyeing a certain item in a store or if you're lying to him. He genuinely cares about you and would like to know everything about you, even the shameful parts. Mikey has a hard time with emotions, he may not fully understand your troubles but he'll assure you that he'll be there for you.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

> For Mikey to actually want to establish a relationship with someone. It means he sees you as an important person in his life. However, certain things would have to come before you such as his family and Toman. It is something you would have to understand when dating Mikey.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

> Whenever he looks like he's spacing off during Toman meetings while he is paying attention to what's happening his mind can't help but wander towards you. About what you're currently doing or if you're at home safely. Before he starts the engine of his bike, or has nothing to do he fiddles with the keychain on his keys. It's the matching keychain you both have.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

> Mikey is not known to be the most showy when it comes to showing his affections. It's the little things he does for only you, that shows how much he cares about you. Mikey secretly likes the affection you give him even if he denies it. It surprises him everytime you hug him or kiss him but he never stops you or tells you to stop. Just don't do it in front of Toman. Even if he doesn't want to, cuddle him as the big spoon and it'll make him really happy. Since he's so used to keeping a strong facade, cuddling with you gives him the impression that with you maybe he doesn't have to do that.

Y earning - How will they cope when they're missing their partner?

> Mikey will still act as the strong charismatic leader of Toman, where nothing fazes him. He won't outwardly show that he misses you but you can tell by the way he fiddles with his matching keychain or stares off into the distance that he misses you. He might even unconsciously blurt a quiet "I miss (Y/N)...."

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

> Mikey is willing to give his life away to protect you. Just you being with him is dangerous enough who knows who might be out to get him and easiest way they can do that is by getting you. If your safely is at risk even he likes you he would have to break up with you, keep you away from the danger. Because he utmostly cares about your well being and if anything happens to you, it will destroy him.

#sano manjiro #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo manji gang #tokyo manji revengers #skipps writes

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #250

Today on Fate and Phantasms we're making the scourge of gods and men, Demon King Nobunaga! Buy one Nobu, get two free, what a great deal!

One Nobu is a Battle Master Fighter to master unconventional tactics, another is a Swords Bard to light up the battlefield both with gunfire and literal fire, and the last is an Ascendant Dragon Monk to rock that tight leather look while still spitting flames.

Check out their build breakdown here, or their character sheet over here!

Next up: You know what they say: a head a day keeps literally everyone away. Except for Nobu.

Race and Background

So, starting off with the awkward stuff again. Yes, each individual Nobu is a human, but we're a weird amalgamation of a bunch of them, so if you want to be able to go from 5'5" to 5'11" and back again we've got to go with Changeling. (Wait, Big Nobu is only 5'11"?? The doesn't sound right. at all. There's like a foot difference between the two!) Like with Asclepius, we're trying out the new Mordenkainen version, though there aren't that many differences between this one and the old one.

Like all lineages, Changelings can now get their stat boosts in any stat they choose, so +1 Dexterity and +2 Wisdom are valid choices, with or without Tasha helping. You're also Fey instead of humanoid, so some spells like Hold Person just don't work on you. Your Changeling Instincts have also been expanded somewhat, so you can get proficiency in Insight and Performance for some "sick" atsumori. You're still a Shapechanger though, with the added bonus that you can change between Medium and Small sizes at will, though it doesn't change your clothing.

Although it is a gross simplification of Japanese history to call Oda Nobunaga a general, we're doing that here because it means we can use the Soldier background, which is useful. It gives you proficiency in Intimidation and Investigation. People aren't usually called a "Demon King" if no one is afraid of them.

Ability Scores

On that note, put your highest score into Charisma. You certainly have a gravitas that can't be matched. After that is your Wisdom. People call you the fool of Owari, but that's simply because you operate on a level they can't even notice. Third is your Dexterity. Shortswords, flintlock rifles, and crossbows all need that. Your Constitution is slightly above average. I wish we could have gotten it higher, but multiclassing comes first. This also means your Strength is pretty low, but we're dumping Intelligence. Like a lot of anime characters, Maou Nobu should be good at everything. But we need intelligence the least, and we'll get options to fix what little we do need it for later.

Class Levels

Monk 1: Ok give me a second here I promise this'll make sense. Starting off as a monk gives you proficiency with shortswords, so your first ascension can fight well enough. You also get proficiency with Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as History and Athletics. We can't focus on strength that much, but you can kick people's heads in, so this might help. You also get Unarmored Defense, adding your wisdom modifier to your AC while you're not wearing any armor. The first and second Nobus definitely aren't wearing armor. You could argue either way for the third ascension, though personally I'd say it's not up to code for D&D. Way too many gaps in the leg parts, y'know? Anyway, enough nitpicking about clothes, back to the good stuff. Your Martial Arts training lets you use your bonus action to make an unarmed attack if you attack with a monk weapon on your main action, use your dexterity in place of strength for all attacks, and your monk weapons, including your hands, always deal a minimum of 1d4 damage. Not super useful for crossbow wielders, but I think Big Nobu will get a... "kick" out of it. 🥁

Monk 2: Second level monks can use their Ki to dash, dodge, disengage, or attack twice as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, so your speed gets better if you're not in platemail. Finally, you can choose a Dedicated Weapon over a short rest, so your longsword or crossbow can count as a monk weapon now! Once you're proficient in them. One sec!

Fighter 1: Okay, now you're proficient in all weapons. You also get a Fighting Style, and Archery will make your crossbow shots a little more accurate. You also get a Second Wind to heal yourself as a bonus action. You don't really "chill out", but I'm sure you'll figure out how to make it work.

Fighter 2: Second level fighters can use an Action Surge once per short rest to take two actions in a turn. If you want a gatling flintlock, this is a must. We still can't attack twice with a crossbow though, another thing for the todo list.

Fighter 3: At third level you become a Battle Master, meaning you're smarter than the average fighter. As a Student of War you gain proficiency in one set of artisan's tools, and you learn some Combat Superiority tricks. Four times per short rest you can use superiority dice to add extra effects to your attacks or skill checks, and usually a d8 of damage too. Your Commanding Presence lets you add the die roll to an Intimidation, Performance, or Persuasion check. Yes you read that right, a single skill improves your terrifying reputation on the battlefield and your Atsumori skills at the same time. You can also make a Distracting Strike to give another creature advantage to hit your target, or a Goading Attack to give your target disadvantage to hit anyone but you. Both of these also add the d8 to your attack damage. Run them ragged chasing you around, then give your army an opening to destroy them.

Fighter 4: As a fourth level fighter you finally get your first Ability Score Improvement. As a Crossbow Expert you can ignore the loading property on crossbows, and attack with them in melee range without issue. You can also dual-wield with a hand crossbow now, effectively giving you that fancy monk bonus attack with range. Nice.

Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack each action, so it's a good thing we picked up that feat last level.

Fighter 6: We're already back for another ASI though- use this one to bump up your Dexterity for stronger and more accurate attacks, a higher AC, and tougher saves for your maneuvers. Turns out you like dexterity more than normal monks. Oh right, speaking of:

Monk 3: Bouncing back to monk finally nets you your subclass. As an Ascendant Dragon, you start off as a Draconic Disciple, which in true monk subclass fashion is secretly a ton of features in a trenchcoat. Your Draconic Presence lets you re-roll a failed intimidation or persuasion check. You can use this as often as you like until it actually works, then you have to wait until tomorrow. Meanwhile, your Draconic Strikes give you your first taste of fire damage, since you can swap your unarmed attacks to acid, cold, fire, lightning, or poison instead of bludgeoning. You also learn Draconic. It's a language. But wait, there's more! With the Breath of the Dragon, you can swap out any attack you make in your action with a breath weapon, dealing elemental damage in a cone or line, forcing a dexterity save on creatures in the area. You deal 2 martial arts dice in damage, and can use this attack once per action, up to Proficiency times per long rest. Alternatively, you can spend 2 ki points per use. And we're not done yet! All monks can Deflect Missiles, using your reaction to weaken incoming ranged attacks, possibly launching them back if you reduce the damage to 0.

Monk 4: That was a lot last level! And this one's pretty packed too. You can your usual ASI, so your Dexterity is as good as it's going to get here. You can also Slow Fall as a reaction, so you take less fall damage. And if that second wind isn't enough, you can spend ki points on Quickened Healing, healing yourself as an action.

Fighter 7: Seventh level battle masters can Know Your Enemy, spending a minute to learn how you compare to your foe in two of the following categories: Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, AC, current HP, class levels, or fighter levels. Know yourself and your enemy, and you need not fear a thousand battles. Some guy said that, idk. You also get two more Maneuvers, and one more superiority die. Your Tactical Assessment lets you add the die to an Investigation, History, or Insight check, while a Menacing Attack deals extra damage and forces a wisdom save on the target, frightening them if they fail. Again, they don't call you a demon king because you befriended your enemies.

Bard 1: It's a little late for another multiclass, but here we are. You can use a Bardic Inspiration to give an ally a d6 to improve a check, save, or attack roll they make in the near future, or you can cast Spells using your Charisma. You get a number of inspiration dice per day equal to your Charisma modifier. Your cantrips are pretty typical. Vicious Mockery denigrates your foes so hard they actually get hurt by it, and Friends improves your odds with all charisma checks. Given how quite a few people have reacted to your valentines events, I don't think you had many issues with Persuasion or Intimidation. For first level spells, Bane befuddles your enemies further, while Command exerts your intimidating presence over them. Heroism will empower your army with temporary HP and protection from being frightened, and Faerie Fire will add the [burning] status to the battlefield, giving creatures advantage on their attacks against creatures who were in the area when you cast the spell. You also get proficiency in Perception. It's hard to shoot someone when you can't find them.

Bard 2: Second level bards are a Jack of All Trades, adding half their proficiency bonus to ability checks they aren't proficient in. That means all your intelligence skills go from a -1 to a +1! See? Told ya we'd fix that. You can also perform a Song of Rest, and while an extra d6 of healing at 13th level might not seem like a lot... it isn't. But hey, any excuse to break out the atsumori's a good one. (Also your inspiration is Magical Inspiration now, so your allies can add it to magical damage or healing.) And I know we went changeling specifically to avoid using magic to change ascensions, but... Sometimes you don't have time to change outfits, so Disguise Self will help with quick changes.

Bard 3: At third level you get Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency bonus in Intimidation and Insight. You also graduate from the college of Swords, giving you a second Fighting Style. Dueling will help out whenever you've got a shortsword out, adding 2 to its damage rolls. For even more damage, you can add a Blade Flourish to your attacks by spending an inspiration die. A Defensive Flourish adds the roll to your damage and AC, a Slashing Flourish deals the extra damage to another creature within 5' of you, and a Mobile Flourish pushes the creature around and lets you spend a reaction to follow it. You can use these once per attack action, and each attack action also increases your speed by 10'. For your first second level spell, grab Pyrotechnics to use the burning battlefield to your advantage, blinding everyone in an area around the flames that fails a constitution save. I hear it's also pretty good at putting out fires too...

Monk 5: Okay, we've been putting it off for a while since your Extra Attack from this level doesn't stack, but it's about time we go back to monk, if only for the martial arts die increase. You can also turn any melee attack into a Stunning Strike, stunning the target until the end of your next turn if they fail a constitution save. You can also now spend ki points on Fou-cused Aim, spending 1-3 points for a +2 bonus to your attack roll per point spent. Kinda pricey, but sometimes you can't afford to miss.

Monk 6: Sixth level monks have Ki-Empowered Strikes, so your kicks are now magical against resistances. In case you weren't just using fire for everything already. I know we're kind of being down on the monk right now, but there is a benefit to coming back here. You also get Wings Unfurled this level, so when you dash as a bonus action you can gain a flying speed equal to your walking speed proficiency times per day. Speaking of your walking speed, right now that's 45' a turn, or 55' with an attack action, at most 65' if you action surge for two in a turn. That is a lot of mobility. tl;dr it's a cool anime jump for when you need to get 130' in the air right now.

Monk 7: The good times keep rolling for monk, because at seventh level you get Evasion, boosting your dexterity saves to new extremes. If you fail a save it's like you passed it, and if you pass it it's like there was never any danger to begin with. You also gain a Stillness of Mind that lets you end effects charming or frightening you as an action. Your dreamlike existence has some downsides, but getting to ignore a lot of magic isn't one of them.

Bard 4: Bouncing back to bard gives you another ASI, bumping up your Charisma for stronger spells and more inspiration dice per long rest. Speaking of spells, Prestidigitation will give you any minor magical effects you want. If you want your sword to have cool particle effects while you're fighting, this can probably help. Also, pick up Aid for a bit more bulk, since monks and bards aren't known for their stellar hit dice.

Bard 5: Fifth level bards are Fonts of Inspiration, so you regain inspiration dice on short rests instead of long ones. Those dice also grow to d8s now. For your final spell, pick up Bestow Curse to do any number of terrible things to your enemies if they fail a Wisdom save. You can do just about anything your DM signs off on, but one of the out-the-box options is dealing an extra d8 of damage each attack. The type they give you is necrotic, but changing that to fire doesn't seem like too far a stretch.

Monk 8: We head back to monk for our final level, another ASI. The Resilient feat is simple, but effective. It rounds out our Charisma for another boost in strength and inspiration while also giving you proficiency in Charisma saves. The Counter Force is constantly trying to banish you after all, it's best to be resistant to that sort of thing.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

As expected from three people sharing one build, Maou Nobunaga is very versatile in combat, with spells like Prestidigitation, Command, and Bestow Curse basically only being limited by your imagination, plus the effects added to your attacks by Flourishes and Maneuvers, and being able to change up the elements of your attacks as an Ascendant Dragon. You come packing a metric ton of abilities, letting you change up your fighting style for every battle and leave your DM guessing.

You're also really good against magic, with proficiency in two of the big three saves, immunity to several troublesome spells thanks to not being humanoid, and the ability to shake off charms and frightening effects thanks to Stillness of Mind. Hitting you in a way that hurts is hard.

That variety also bleeds into what you can do out of combat as well, with a high Charisma and Wisdom scores plus plenty of ways to strengthen a ton of your intelligence skills, you can fit just about any part of the party's social dynamic. Be a loveable goofball, be a terrifying tactician, switch wildly between the two at a moments notice! Heck, become someone else entirely! You're a changeling after all.

Cons:

While the variety is great, this build also shows exactly why multiclassing can be difficult. Since you hop into bard so late a lot of the features won't be that useful at high level play, and it also makes your ASIs show up super irregularly. On top of that, it makes you super multi-ability dependent, using your dexterity, wisdom, and charisma in tandem.

Multiclassing also makes you super complicated with three different resources you have to manage on top of all your "X times per short rest" abilities. You also don't have that many of any one resource, so if you don't hold anything back you'll tire out quickly.

Being so many things also means this build lacks focus. If you dropped bard you'd deal a lot more damage by spending those charisma ASIs on Sharpshooter instead and getting a third attack. If you dropped monk you'd have more inspiration, stronger spells, and could wear some armor for better defense. If you dropped fighter your Martial Arts die would be bigger and you'd have a ton of more creative options with spells and ki abilities.

But hey, being Nobunaga is cool, and you're every Nobunaga at once, so get out there and show the world why that's a terrifying concept. Be whoever you want, do whatever you want, and make the world know your name however you want.

#FGO #Fate Grand Order #D&D #DND 5e #Oda Nobunaga #Maou nobunaga #Fighter #Monk #Bard

[king-star]

Hi, for a drabble or fic request (whatever you can do) could you please do a Natasha x Reader where the reader is Tony's half sibling nobody knows about? They show up at the Compound to suprise Tony since he's been wanting to introduce them & Natasha not expecting anyone thinks they're an intruder attacking them but reader defends themselves because they have military training. Tony eventually fixes the misunderstanding. Fluff ensues. Thanks

Unfriendly Welcome

Warning: mild violence

Match:  Natasha Romanoff x Stark!Reader

Genre: Fluff (angst if you squint)

A/N: this one got a little out of hand… it’s not my proudest work but its ok.

Word Count: ~1,000

Hi, for a drabble or fic request (whatever you can do) could you please do a Natasha x Reader where the reader is Tony's half sibling nobody knows about? They show up at the Compound to suprise Tony since he's been wanting to introduce them & Natasha not expecting anyone thinks they're an intruder attacking them but reader defends themselves because they have military training. Tony eventually fixes the misunderstanding. Fluff ensues. Thanks

<keep reading>

The Avengers compound was a looming, terrifying structure. The building lacked your brother's usual flair for including, well, himself. You knew you were welcome here at any point. Every call from your Tony made sure you knew that point. He practically begged you to come visit him and his super pals.

Today you had a day off from work and decided to finally give his offer a try. You had been let in the front gate with one flash of your driver's license. A hole in security you were sure to note to tease Tony about later.

Standing at the front doors you had an overwhelming sensation that you were not where you were supposed to be. A feeling that years in the military did nothing to curb.

A guard opened the sliding glass doors and nodded you in.

“Sorry Mx. Y/N but Mr. Stark is not in right now. The only person in the compound would be Agent Romanoff,”

you smirked at the mention of the famous Black Widow. A rather attractive woman, Tony only ever spoke fondly of.

“That’s ok sir. I’ll just go up and get a jump on introductions. If you would do me a favour and not let Tony know that I’m here I’d prefer to surprise him,”

the guard nodded and handed you a key card that would be your access to the building. You thanked him and headed up the stairs. The feeling of being lost and unsurity returned as soon as you were alone again.

You made your way to what you hoped was the residential portion of the compound. Everything was eerily still. After all the chaos Tony claimed went on it wasn’t at all what you were expecting.

You wandered around searching for a living room or movie room. The guard had told you that Natasha was home and you weren’t quite ready to approach the private rooms in search of her. The faint noise of a tv came from down the hall and you followed it.

When you rounded the door a dark empty room greeted you. The room looked as if it was a movie room. A large flatscreen tv played James Bond while facing towards a couch so large it could comfortably fit 12 people. A ruffled blanket lay half on it while the rest of the couch looked as it had been prepped for a home improvement magazine.

Natasha was nowhere to be seen. You frowned, turning to go look elsewhere when a hand grabbed you. A scream ripped from your throat. You threw your elbow back but you were already on the floor before you could react. Your assaulter straddled your stomach and moved to grab at your arm but years of military training had you moving before you could think.

You ripped it backwards and bucked up your hips, throwing the person forward, occupying their hands. You forced their elbow backwards and locked in their ankle. With a shove they flung underneath you and you were trapped between their legs. You moved to escape again but your skilled assaulter trapped you tight and sat up leveraging your shoulders to wrap their legs around your throat. The one move you could never escape, a triangle. Despite years of training this was the one move any opponent of yours could trap you in and you were doomed to being choked.

You had slumped ready to give into passing out when a hand pulled you backward and unwrapped the legs from around your throat. You gasped and whipped your head around wondering if this new person was friend or foe. The lights were thrown on and you were able to see the scene around you. Tony stood behind you and Bucky stood behind your attacker, Natasha romanoff.

Her eyes were blown, the adrenaline of a fight leaving her breaths ragged. The woman was even more beautiful than any tabloid or picture could show. The thought that moments ago you had lay under her then with her legs around your face had thoughts running through your head you wouldn’t dare admit.

“well little sibling. You seem to have made a quick impression on Romanoff,”

He laughed and offered you a hand. You took it while rolling your eyes.

“Hey, she's the one who attacked me. I just protected myself,”

Natasha shrugged and stood up as well. She brushed her leggings off and looked away from you.

“Sorry about that Miss Romanoff. Nice to meet you in Y/N Stark,”

You reached out a hand and she shook it, still frowning. Tony pushed the group of you towards the movie room and asked the AI names Friday to pause the movie.

“Well that’s a rather unconventional way to introduce you but Avengers, this is Y/N. My little sibling. Y/N meet the Avengers,”

You looked around at the easily recognisable faces. Sam, Wanda, Bucky, Steve, and Clint. They all smiled and gave their own nods of acknowledgment. You smiled back

“Nice to finally meet you all. Tony has told me much more than I’m sure any of you all would want me to know,”

a few of them laughed but most of them stood like a stone wall. They weren’t ready for a newcomer.

“For the love of god you all. Stop. It's my sibling. Sure it would have been better if i could have introduced them over a nice dinner like i thought i was but they dropped in so treat them like anyone else.”

This whole meeting had your skin crawling and you just wanted to leave. Meeting your brother's friends wasn't at all what you were expecting. You felt anxious and small. Natasha was surprisingly the first to speak up.

“Well everyone, I know the mood is shit right now but you heard Tony. We can’t have Y/N thinking we are unfriendly assholes. I was watching a movie and made some popcorn. Let’s get on with it,”

Natasha sat up and the rest of the group grumbled but moved. You stood, ready to help, but Natasha pushed you back down. A friendly smile was on her face.

“I’m sorry about them. I sent out an alarm that someone had breached the security and it just sort of set a damper on the mood. They will come around. You just sit here,”

You nodded. You were slightly afraid that they may think you a slacker but you did as Natasha told you anyway.

“It is really nice to meet you Natasha. Tony told me a lot about everyone but i must admit i developed a smal girl crush on you over everyone else,”

she laughed and slid in beside you. Scarily close. When the rest of the team came back they found the two of you chatting away. Bucky made a comment about slackers but a “friendly” punch from Natasha shut him up quickly.

For most of the movie things remained intense. But after a comment on Bonds car the group lightened up. Natasha had moved closer and closer, practically snuggling you by the end. You blushed scarlet but the lack of lights hid it.

Tony had caught the two of you and cocked an eyebrow. You just shrugged back. She had done it on her own accord and you weren’t about to complain.

After the movie ended everyone went back to their rooms, the atmosphere significantly friendlier.

“Well I’m sorry meeting my friends went that way Y/N. I’m planning on having a nice dinner tomorrow so maybe it’ll be like a restart,”

you caught the eye of natasha who was waiting to show you to your room and you smiled.

“Actually I think things went significantly better than I ever expected.”

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow x y/n #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #mcu #avengers x reader #black widow fluff #natasha romanoff fluff