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charthanry · 2 years

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BBS: My Favorite Moments for Everyone Else

Here are my favorite moments for the characters on the show not named Pat or Pran. My choices include only those characters that move the story forward in some way, so you may see some of the smaller bit characters missing in action, otherwise we’d be here ALL DAY breaking down play crew member #4 who bumped Pran’s shoulder in passing.

If you’ve missed my previous posts on favorite moments, please check them out:

My Favorite Pran Moments My Favorite Pat Moments

KORN // EP9: Uncomfortable, my ass! It’s me you’re talking to here. I can solve any problem for you.

How much do we love that Drake gets to crawl out from under his usual role as problematic guy to turn in this endearing performance of bestest dudebro of the series? And it’s not even a close race. We came to BBS fearing our expectations would be met with the Korn character- just another typical antagonistic sidekick whose antics we’d have to sit through. Admittedly, P’Aof really had us in the first half but completely subverted our expectations in the later episodes. Korn is the type of guy who has your back no matter what. He’s that one friend who would help you bury a body, complaining the whole time, but still ask you how deep to dig. We saw him running towards Pat at the end of this episode when Pat was outnumbered by the goon brigade yelling “What are you doing to my friend?!” and without hesitation bursts into the fray with fists flying. His loyalty to Pat leaves no room for doubt. And yes, he still has a lot of growing up to do, he’s a college-aged loudmouthed jackass with zero filter BUT we also see why Pat is friends with him in spite of all this. Korn shows up for his friends when it matters, all while sporting a colorful windbreaker du jour. What more could you want in a bestie? Maybe better taste in outerwear apparel, sure, but really what more could you ask from someone who’s consistently got your back?

Runner-up moment: Korn, you asshole! You’re always putting me in these shitty situations! said by Pat in EP4. I ship their bromance so much.

WAI // EP10: Look at those murderous eyes she’s giving me.

Waisel, where do I begin with you? I loathe Wai so much that he’s earned the name Wai the weasel (Waisel) from me and everytime I see him on screen, I shoot my stankiest stank eye at him. Everything he does in EP9 and onward is not enough to redeem his character. He can take his unreasonably aggressive, extremely problematic, gaslighting, emotionally abusive, guilt-tripping, relationship-outing self and just go somewhere else, anywhere else. What makes it even worse is his sense of entitlement to Pran. His inability to see how completely toxic his behavior is to anyone not named Wai. I mean even Ohm questioned Wai’s behavior on Soonvijarn, because Ohm is truly one of us. So my favorite moment of Waisel will have to be this scene just for the self-awareness and recognition of all the muderous eyes on him, mine included. I will never forgive the show for brushing what he did under the rug.

INK // EP5: I already have a ton of hot friends. I can’t afford to lose the only crappy friend I have.

I love Ink so much in this scene and for how well she understands Pat. Once again, P’Aof challenges the negative perceptions that a girl’s sole purpose is to come in-between our main couple. Female characters have other, more interesting things to do than to play third-wheel or be a villainous foil to our lovers. They have better things to do like fight off an entire faculty to be a peer mentor to their crush. They don’t have time for silly boys and their I think I might be falling for my frenemy awakenings. And how much do I love that Ink is a fully realized character with her own motivations and that she doesn’t exist to simply serve a narrative purpose? Other shows, take note, this is how you treat your female characters- with the respect that they’re wholly three-dimensional human beings with thoughts and motivations of their own.

Runner-up moment: You’re someone whose smiles I want to keep only for myself. So sweeeeet!

PA // EP10 - Pa sniff kisses Ink on the cheek and the WLW faction of the fandom collectively squees.

I love this moment so much for our girls, but especially for Pa. Just a 3-second blip in a song montage but it says so much about their relationship. How their shared love of photography comes across, how Pa is still adorably shy around Ink that she ducks her head blushing after the sniff kiss. It’s all so saccharinely sweet that it makes my tooth ache. I love that after all the doubts and second-guessing, Pa decides this is the person that I like, I’m going to do something about it and JUST GOES FOR IT. How much do I absolutely adore that the youngest and tiniest person on the show turns out to be the mightiest. Get it, gurrrl.

Runner-up moment: Her four-step love signs that allowed Pat to see that Pran was the one for him.

UNCLE TONG // EP11 - But I also want you to know that this world can’t change someone like me.

Guys, got room in that group hug for one more? 😭 Uncle Tong is the epitome of someone who dances to the beat of his own drum. He knows that what he does may appear meaningless to others but it means everything to HIM and in his book, that's all that matters. Not to be morbid, but when he does leave this mortal coil, there’s zero doubt that he’ll go with a smile knowing that he dedicated his life’s work doing what he loved. And you just have to admire that sense of self-worth and hard-nosed committment. He instills this belief in our boys, teaching them that the world may never rise up to greet them but so long as they stay true to themselves (and each other), who dare stand between them? Wise words that our boys take to heart and live out admirably.

Runner-up moment: EP6 - Hold on tight, I’m fast and furious. (I love that the subber/translator has a punny sense of humor).

JUNIOR // EP6 - I don’t (have that kind of friend that won’t talk to me). There’s no such guy like that, right?

There’s such an innocence to Junior that is completely endearing and I love how he becomes a member of PatPran’s found family at their home away from home. Their entire conversation on the back of the pickup truck was hilarious. I love how clueless Junior innocently played into their layered conversation. Pran is obviously trying to not let Pat rile him up only for Junior to turn around and ask: P’ do you have that kind of friend (who won’t talk to you)? And Pran throws it right back at Pat- I don’t, because all of my friends are annoyingly talkative. They won’t shut up. Bwahaha, touché Pran. Junior served allowing Pran to spike it home. Well done, little dude.

Runner-up moment: EP11 when he runs back to give PatPran a good-bye hug and makes them promise to up their fishing skills when he sees them again. My heart couldn’t handle the cuteness that is this scene. Their found family is love.

MING // EP12 - Shuffling his feet as he returns mail to the correct mailbox.

It’s this and the moment right before where he looks down at the painted line between their two trashbins that you can see the stirrings of regret, it’s almost pitiful. And it hurts us to watch because we know all of this could have been avoided. The root of all turmoil falls on Ming and it’s upsetting that knowing this, he still perpetrated that he was the one who was wronged and taught his children to hate because of his own shortcomings. I’m not sure that sympathy is deserved here but I still feel for him. His relationship with his son is hanging by threads all by his own doing. The only concession I’ll give him is that this moment right here in front of the trashbins and mailboxes shows that there are seeds of regret being sowed. That he might one day be ready to outwardly accept Pran in Pat’s life, but right now he can’t show that he’s softening because of face-saving reasons so he quietly returns the mail to the correct box and goes on his way. It’s really sad when you think about it. A giant of a man reduced to... this.

Runner-up moment: EP12 - Taking a sip of Pran’s liquor gift when he thinks nobody is watching. And then continuing to do so even when he knows his wife sees him.

MA // EP12 - Just leave it to their generation.

This is too little too late ma’am, but still I’m happy you’re willing to speak up for your son though he could have used it years before this. You are an accomplice in your husband’s actions, especially because you knew the truth all along and didn’t speak up for TWO DECADES. I side-eye you so hard lady. You knew it was wrong but went along with it anyway. The silent enablers are the worst. And not only this but to try and explain it away that grandpa was hard on dad too, well, that’s not Pat’s problem is it? You’re contributing to a vicious cycle here. So your “let’s just let them be” is too little too late. I know the source of the problem is Ming but for mom to complicitly go along with it when she could have put a stop to it years ago, especially when it involved little KIDS- that’s not something you can easily come back from. Ming was blinded by his own guilt, yes, but mom was a neutral party to the entire thing but chose to be mute and blind anyway? She literally made that choice. Do better, mom.

Runner-up moment: EP10 - Dad, we haven’t thanked him yet. We’re the adults here. This small moment gave me so much hope that you’d FINALLY say/do something, anything, but alas no.

DISSAYA // EP12 - Her smile when overhearing Pran’s laughter with Pat.

If looks could kill and also bring someone back to life then all hail Madam Dissaya. Her quiet smile here says so much more than any words ever could. It’s the silent acceptance that her son is happy so that’s all that matters to her. She’ll put aside her greivances for now and take it up with the person responsible rather than the younger generation. Pat might not have a permanent seat at her dinner table anytime soon, but she probably won’t question Pran’s choice in his life partner any further. It’s the genuine joy she hears in his laughter that seals this decision for her. Her only son’s happiness is more important, has to be more important, than a long-held grudge. Ma’am, please accept this slow clap from me. This is the ultimate character growth and it’s just so, so satisfying to see.

Runner-up moment: EP12 - Her reaction to watching Ming outside Pran’s window. Such great nonverbal acting! We felt what she felt. Annoyance at first, then confusion followed by being at peace after. A whirlwind of emotions conveyed in mere seconds, so well done.

Dad // EP12 - Smiling as he head nudges mom’s shoulder. “This show is just so good.” (Yes, yes it is).

Dad, you were no more than window dressing for much of the show but I commend your energy here. I also acknowledge that you mostly deferred to your wife with the whole next door rivalry because you understood her pain and where she was coming from. Good husband. But good father? Jury is out on that one. You and Pat’s mom should seek professional help on how to parent. They probably have a 2-for-1 groupon somewhere. It’s honestly amazing how well Pran turned out no thanks to you, sir.

Runner-up moment: EP12 - Conspiring with Pran on his guitar’s whereabouts. Dad was cute here.

CHAI // EP10 - I’m glad though. No matter how much your parents despised each other, their children managed to get along. I think one day things will get better.

You didn’t think I’d leave out old reliable Chai did you? One of the few reasonable adults in PatPran’s life? How he knew when he saw them together in the music store back in EP3 that there was something going on but never outed them? (Learn from your elders, Waisel). Chai was around to witness all the rivalry as the boys were growing up and probably saw most of this coming. How he just minded his own business and let everyone figure their own shit out, but conveniently popped up when needed to diffuse any tension? You’re my kind of people, Chai.

Runner-up moment: Do you want me to stay with you? said to Pran in EP10. Oh, Chai. You kind-hearted loveable creeper that you are, take this cookie.

They say a show is only as good as its supporting cast and that's definitely true here. OhmNanon are the obvious heavyweights and the series headliners, however, it was extremely important that the supporting cast (especially the parents) were well cast and I think P'Aof and his team hit it out of the park with their choices. We needed to believe what was at stake for our boys. The parents had to be intense (which they were, well two of them were). The friends needed to be fully realized characters and not just caricatures and I think most of them are. As much as we all want a show of just OhmNanon interacting with each other (yes, please! where do I sign up?), if they had to interact with others, this was a good supporting cast for them to play off of. I truly have no complaints. Well, except for Waisel. But don’t get me started on that again because I will climb on my soapbox and never get off.

#bad buddy #bad buddy series #bad buddy the series #pranpat #another favorites list #long read #sorry about that #my stuff #rambling thoughts #I limited this to those supporting characters that actually contributed to the story #pat and pran's friends were mostly there for comic relief or to fill-in as a body so that's a no on them #sorry not sorry #otherwise this post would have gone on forever #I think I captured most of the major players though #BBS #bad buddy brain rot is real #pat x pran #patpran

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arcanadreams · 3 years

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OM Brothers as Hozier songs

I am a cottagecore lesbian, therefore this post was inevitable. Anyway here are the Hozier songs I think resonate most with the boys and their relationships to MC! Each will have a little explanation blurb (tho I am writing this before I start so I’ll probably get carried away asjdgkdj)

this is very different from my usual style so feedback would be greatly appreciated!! thanks :D

Lucifer - As It Was

You are the home Lucifer comes to after losing his first one. He can never go back to the Celestial Realm, the place he was born and raised. But he doesn’t even want to when you are with him.

You, and all that you are, are home. Being with you makes Lucifer feel a joy like he did before the otherness, the War, came. He never thought he could feel that way again. You are as bright as the lights of the Celestial Realm; a light he thought he would never see again. A light he thought he had dragged both himself and his entire family away from forever. But here you are, in front of him, shining with a light he had almost forgotten despite his best efforts to remember.

And your love for him is unmoving. You know his past, you know his present, you know the worst sides of him. Hell, he tried to kill you before! And yet...your heart remains unmoved. He will never be able to express his gratitude for the way you waited for him, waited for his pride to subside, waited for him to realize the depth of his feelings for you. You welcomed him with open arms when he finally came home.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The drug, the dark, The light, the flame The highs hit the heights of my baby And its hold had the fight of my baby And the lights were as bright as my baby But your love was unmoved

Tell me if somehow Some of it remains How long you would wait for me How long I've been away The shape that I'm in now Your shape in the doorway Make your good love known to me Or just tell me about your day

Mammon - Sunlight

Your love is sunlight. Pure and simple. Your love is sunlight to Mammon, who has not known a soul like yours since the Celestial Realm. He loves his brothers, and he knows they love him, too, but their love feels conditional. Your love for him is unconditional, and you tell him so every day through the way you look at him.

He still doesn’t know how you put up with his waffling for so long. With the way he ran away from your affections, the way he put up walls between you to protect his aching heart. If your love was like his brothers’, if it required him to change...he didn’t think he ‘d be able to bear it.

But you were stubborn. Almost as stubborn as him! And when you finally reached a stalemate you confessed. The moment “I love you,” left your lips, Mammon knew he was lost to you. He was lost in this foreign feeling and the only way out was in your arms. And from that moment he knew he would never leave your embrace, never leave your wonderful heart.

He would sooner die before he let his sunlight be taken away.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Oh, the tale is the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight At last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight All that was shown to me, sunlight Was something foreknown to me, sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Sunlight

and

Each day you rise with me Know that I would gladly be The Icarus to your certainty Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight Strap the wing to me Death trap clad, happily With wax melted I'd meet the sea Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

Leviathan - Like Real People Do

Levi has never cared for the company of others who are real, who are not figments of some grand author’s imagination. All they do is hurt him. He has had too many heartbreaks in his life to let anyone else into his story. He is a lone side character.

But then you came bounding into his book and tore apart every page with self-loathing words written on it. He fought you tooth and nail, but you just kept digging, straight to his heart. You dug yourself in deep, so deep he couldn’t move you even if he wanted to. Which, of course, he can’t even imagine doing now.

You’re real. And so is the love you have given him. With each kiss you prove to him that he is not some side story. He is the protagonist of his own adventure. You are his love interest, written to fit perfectly against his side when snuggling on dark nights.

It took your arrival for him to realize just how much he longed for the company of real people, for the affection of real people. And I don’t mean in the literal sense of real- I mean people who are real with him. People who are truthful, who won’t hurt him with stinging words, barbs aims right at his psyche. You use your words to guide him without crippling him, and he is so thankful for that.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

Satan - Shrike

Satan had no idea there was any goodness in him. No idea he was capable of anything with a shred of goodness in it. That was, until you came along and showed him just how long his stone heart had only been lying dormant. It was never useless, as he had suspected. It just needed a skilled stonesmith to chip away at it carefully, which is exactly what you did.

Even as he felt you cracking away at his walls, he would not tell you how he felt. He knew from the first tap of your gentle hand on the rough rock of his heart that he was yours. That he always would be. But he could not utter his love. How was he to know if you did this to everyone you met? Was he as special to you as you were to him? Or was he just another sculpted heart in your collection?

He couldn’t hold out for long, though. Not when you were housing him in your heart’s warmth with no mention of reciprocation required. What was your scheme? Why were you showing such goodness to him, and at the same time revealing he was capable of the same?

But when you whispered words of love to him, it all fell apart. The last chip of stone covering his heart shattered, as did his resolve to hide his love from you. He knows that you two will always be together, even after this lifetime ends. Perhaps the two of you will return, him as a thorn and you as his shrike.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I had no idea on what ground I was founded All of that goodness is going with you now Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted All of my goodness is going with you now

and

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn Remember me love when I'm reborn As the shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

Asmodeus - Nobody

Asmodeus, unlike his brothers, has known love. He has bathed in love, breathed in love, slept in love. He knows love. And yet, in all his years, he has known no love like your love.

Your love is a wholly new phenomenon to Asmo. So pure, unfiltered, unconditional. Surprise picnic dates you spent all weekend planning, bouquets of flowers waiting for him on his bedspread, hugging him when you’re all sweaty after a jog because you know it bothers him. There is a fondness in your every action, even when you simply pick a nail polish shade for him to use for the week. It is an unfamiliar sensation for Asmo to feel such love through an accidental brush of the fingertips.

Because of this, Asmo never wants you or your relationship to change. Damn everything he has known before, damn the opinions of anyone he knows, damn what he knows of love! Your love is the only love he cares to know, now. Your love and everything that comes with it.

Asmo has had many adventures and love affairs in his time, and yet you are the only one he never wants to end.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

And I think about you though everywhere I go And I've done everything and I've been everywhere, you know I've been fed gold By sweet fools in Abu Dhabi And I danced real slow With Rockettes on dodgy Molly But I've had no love like your love Ooh from nobody I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave But I want you to know that I've had no love like your love

Beelzebub - NFWMB

You are part of Beelzebub’s family. You have been ever since you slept beside him, holding his hand to keep his nightmares at bay. You are his family, and nothing fucks with his family.

Beelzebub’s family is his heart and soul. You are his heart and soul. He would do anything for you. Your little finger is stronger than any arsenal in the Devildom, because you have Beel wrapped around it. But part of the reason you have him in the first place is because he knows you would never use that to your advantage. You do not see Beel as a weapon, or a hungry beast, or a danger, nor even as an annoyance who empties the fridge every two days. No, you see him as Beel. And that’s all he can ask for. That’s all he wants.

Your affection for both him and his brothers is something he cherishes more than anything else. Nothing will harm you as long as he can help it. He has lost his family before, and he will not lose any ever again. The second your fingers interlocked with yours the night you slept at his side, he knew no harm would ever come to you from that moment on.

Lucifer started a war for the ones he loved once long ago, and now Beelzebub knows that he would do the same.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing If I was born as a black thorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies Ain't it warming you, the world goin' up in flames? Ain't it the life where you you're lighting off the blaze? Ain't it a waste it watch the throwing of the shade?

Belphegor - Would That I

Ever since the death of Lilith, Belphegor feared the fires of love, the fires of feeling, of emotion. He stomped on the embers of his heart and vowed never to light them again. It was easier to feel nothing than it was to feel her loss.

And then you...you and your blinding light, arrived. He hated you at first. He killed you, tried to put out your fire the same way he put out his own. But even death couldn’t douse your flame. You were a wildfire, one that had already spread to all his brothers and rapidly came to set him ablaze too.

It didn’t take you long to light him up. He knew it wouldn’t, but he still tried to fight it at first. The first word you spoke to him in the attic told him that if he were to ever burn bright again, it would be by your hand.

And that’s exactly what you did. Even after he had killed you, you fought to ignite the long-dead pyre of his heart. Your persistence wore him down until his lazy nature decided it would be easier to give in and let you burn him. He expected pain, expected scars, but instead he simply felt warmth. Your warmth. All the years he spent in the cold without even realizing it were suddenly over. He was warm in your arms, and he never wanted to leave again.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet Like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat Settle soft and as pure as snow I fell in love with the fire long ago With each love I cut loose I was never the same Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Laying waste to my loving long ago But that's not tonight Where I'm set alight And I blink in sight Of your blinding light And it's not tonight Where you hold me tight And the fire bright Oh, let it blaze, alright, honey

#this was SO much fun #i liked experimenting like this #posts #obey me #my writing #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor

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damselofblueroses · 3 years

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Bambi, Ch. 2, Ghost

You are my Bambi, girl, I am your candy, tell me what are you waiting for?

Summary: As an archaeologist who works on the Ancient Greece, you were on the verge of excavations’ session. While you have been preparing your team, you learned that your institute decided on your team has to work with another team as they wanted the outcome as a collaboration. The head of other team was your biggest rival, a scumbag in your eyes: Byun Baekhyun.

You two were supposed to work together for three months, in a Greek Island, Chios.

Could you manage to not kill Byun Baekhyun for three months?

Chapter Summary: Byun Baekhyun and the Reader remember the day they spent in UN Village together while they are heading to Chios. (Guys, this chapter, which is dedicated to the beginning of their relationship, is going to be two parts, otherwise it is going to be more than 20k lol)

Word Count: 11k

Content: AU, heavily Greek mythology, enemies to lovers.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story will be 7 or 8 chapters if I will not change my mind in the meantime. It is inspired by my major; however, I do not have a complete knowledge on archaeology, I am a historian. If I will make a technical mistake, please let me know. I am willing to receive any kind of feedback; you are more than welcomed to drop a message.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: Ghost

5 years ago, Hannam-dong

Even if I want you so much it drives me crazy

You ghost

Even if I want and call for you all night long

You came to me and left without a word

You ghost, you ghost

You want to go crazy all night, you plead

You ghost

You disappeared again without a trace

“What type of sadistic and sick person could say that we have to work here?” you cursed between your teeth, you jaw clenched because of pure anger. “How do they expect us to do our job in the middle of fucking super-ultra-rich people?”

“Get used to it.” Junmyeon flinched your forehead, but his frustration was oblivious, even though he was doing definitely better than you. “Where is Baekhyun?”

“I do not know.” you recklessly pointed to the expensive cars on the road. “Maybe he was looking for a sugar mommy.”

“As your sunbae,” Minseok hit you. “I would like to remind you to hold on your manners.”

“Someone has to give a speech on manners to him.” your eyebrows knitted together. “Not to me.”

“Both of you,” Kyungsoo nonchalantly spoke. “need a really good beaten session, since both of you have no idea on how to behave.”

You threw the book you were holding to Kyungsoo, but he was too quick and easily saved himself from your unexpected attack.

“I am here, right?” you hissed. “Where the heck is that bastard? He always disappears when it comes to work, why do you hold me in the same esteem with him?”

“Because you are definitely a copy of Baekhyun.” Chanyeol laughed at your god-fucking-damn-it-so-horrible face expression. “Let’s face with the fact, Indy. Everyone knows that Baekhyun is a disciplined student, just as you are, badmouthed, just as you are.”

“Are you talking about me?” Baekhyun popped out of nowhere. “I heard you are praising me less than the way I deserve.”

Your face could be described as disgusted, but this would be the kindest way of telling how your appearance was. Actually, you wanted to punch his narcissistic self-perspective, to shake his cage in order to give him the lesson he deserved, but you did not want to be scolded by Junmyeon again. You just walked away from him, needing to put a safe distance between yourself and Baekhyun.

God, if you could run away to space, you would do it in order to not infuse with the same air with Baekhyun.

You disliked him, you disliked the way of his well-being, you disliked his velvety voice, his lame jokes, his sharp remarks, you disliked everything about Byun Baekhyun.

And you hated yourself because of finding him very handsome. Sometimes, you caught yourself, staring at Baekhyun, forgetting how to breath properly. His face was like a gift of God himself; his body ratio made you to say oh-my-fucking-god.

Thank God, he had the most annoying character, because if he had a good personality, you knew that you would fall in love over the heels with him.

“What kind of idiot chained us here?” Baekhyun asked to Junmyeon. “Fuck’s sake, what the heck we are going to here? Digging beneath the Richie riches’ villas?”

Chanyeol bite his lips before looking at you, silently reminding your own words and his remarks about being very same with Baekhyun. You did not back off, staring at Chanyeol with all frustration went through your veins, causing Chanyeol to laugh. Baekhyun hit his head, then walked towards Junmyeon to take his own tool bag.

You hated him for this, too. He was acting like he was a superior, like he was better than any of you, and what got your nerves badly was no one scold him as they would scold you if you would do the same things.

“Yeah, I am like this scumbag who does not carry even his own stuff, huh?” you literally sizzled between your teeth, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo heard your annoyed voice, but they preferred to keep their silence. Your hate was not a secret for the team, everyone was aware of the fact that putting you and Baekhyun was a dangerous decision since he also loathed you.

But to your dismays, you were the brightest students Sejong could always play on.

“Seriously what we are going to do?” Baekhyun repeated his question because he really did not have a single clue.

“Didn’t you read the mail Sejong sent us?” Jongdae asked him, raising one eyebrow. Baekhyun shrugged his shoulder, you bit your lower lip in order keep your frustration under your control. What a bastard!

“We have to visit UN Village, there are seven neighbourhood where we have to go and collect the permissions of the residents.” Junmyeon run his hand through his hair. He was already on the verge of cracking since he was the one who had to deal with a lot of capricious upper-class members in order to complete this fucking task. He wished nothing but changing his path, he started to think like the field was not his cup of tea, but before resigning from leadership, he wanted to find a good candidate who could lead the team.

He wanted you to be that leader. You and Baekhyun. Heretofore, Junmyeon laid his eyes on both of you and your abilities persuaded him to nominate your names when he could propose an election. He did not want to be a fieldperson, he wished to stay in his office, but at the same time, he could not inherit his legacy, Godfuckingdamnit Junmyeon’s did his best in order to engrave his name as one of the most successful captains, to anyone but the best. Yet, Junmyeon had no idea how to put you in good terms, since you were like a cat and dog, and Chanyeol, that giant idiot, used every opportunity to fan the flames, even that silent Kyungsoo enjoyed watching intangible scuffles between you and Baekhyun.

Junmyeon has been sensing that the team was becoming aware of the situation and camping as two different poles. Jongdae, Shinhye and Minseok were setting off closer to you while Chanyeol, Kyungsoo and the newbie, Jongin have been shifting to Baekhyun’s side. Damn, Junmyeon could not let it to be happen. He needed all of you under the same umbrella, especially you and Baekhyun had to stay together. He was seeing a great potential of you, if you could combine your powers, you were going to be the perfect team. Period.

“Let’s split into teams.” his eyes wandered around all of you. “We are eight, if we can divide ourselves into four teams, we will finish the job easier and quicker.”

“Yeah, you are right.” Kyungsoo approved. “I am going to take Chanyeol.”

“Are you my superior, dumbass?” Chanyeol hit his shoulder, but he was laughing. “I am with Kyungsoo.”

“Good.” Junmyeon inhaled. “Shinhye, you are with Jongdae.”

You automatically stirred next to Minseok, however you shuttered after hearing Junmyeon’s next orders.

“Indy, you and Baekhyun are together, Minseok, let’s go.”

“What?!” you immediately stopped and hissed at Junmyeon. “Am I with who?”

Jongdae realized the storm before seeing the clouds, clever as always, he disappeared while dragging Shinhye with him. You even did not notice, but Chanyeol’s smile widened, Kyungsoo smirked, and they rushed to their own direction.

Only four of you were standing on the pavement, you were throwing daggers to Junmyeon with your eyes. Baekhyun was nonchalantly looking at Junmyeon, while Minseok could not find a way to break the tension.

Junmyeon was cool as a cucumber.

“You are with Baekhyun.” he repeated his words, sounding like he was condemning you with execution. “What? Do you have a rejection?”

“Yes!” you exploded without thinking. “Why shou-

“Believe me,” Baekhyun interrupted your words, he was indifferent to your frustration. “I did not beg for being in the same team with you.”

“Did I claim that?” you swiftly turned on your tiptoes. “Did I say you are eager to be with me?”

“It would be the greatest joke you could make.” Baekhyun winked to you. “But you are not so into the entertainment, right?”

“Baekhyun,” Minseok noisily cleared his throat. “I am not sur-

“What do you know about me?” you heard your own voice. “This is why we cannot work together, you always make assumptions out of your ass, instead I work as organized, with the facts and tangible proofs.”

“What do you know about me?” Baekhyun coldly smiled at you, you could not describe its impacts on you, that smile had you wanting to punch him at the same time ignited some fires in your lower stomach. “We barely talk, have you been watching me all the time?”

“You wish.” you took a deep breath. “You are not worth my time.”

“Oh,” his eyes glimmered with a menacing luminescence. “I am deeply wounded.”

“If you are done,” Junmyeon raised his hands to the air. “We have to work.”

“Jun-

“Young lady,” Baekhyun barged on. “They did not teach you this, so it’s up to me but we are not in kindergarten anymore.”

You had to admit, no one could get your nerves till now like Baekhyun did.

You had to admit, you hated being called as a kid. Junmyeon’s eyes blown up when Baekhyun labelled you as a kid, before he could open his mouth, you stared at Baekhyun.

“I can see why we could be a team.” you took the directional instructions from Junmyeon’s hand. “A kindergarten kid has to take care of a cry baby while the adults have to work.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed, but you wholly ignored his visible annoyance, and started to walk. Junmyeon was looking at your back with a little bit concerned face, but he knew that he did what he had to do.

You were going to scold Junmyeon in the following hours of the day, however, now your job was teaching a couple of lessons on manners to this scumbag who has been walking beside you.

You spent the first hour in a total silence, talking only if the occasion called for it. The tension between you and Baekhyun was solid, someone could cut it with a knife without any problem. Baekhyun was bored to death, he never plan to have a day like this, he wanted to enjoy everything he did, he thought he could be with Chanyeol or Kyungsoo, having fun to death.

Instead, he was trapped with you.

The only girl he loathed to the bits.

He could not endure to hear your voice, even though you talked with the residents very kindly and respectfully. He had to admit that you were doing a good job, but it did not change anything he felt for you. He had been cursing Junmyeon since he put you two in the same task, however, he knew that if Junmyeon wanted something from Baekhyun, he would do it without question. Baekhyun could be many things, but he was loyal to his friends, and Junmyeon had a special place in his heart.

Also, behind the curtains of his hate, he could see why Junmyeon gave you to him. Although you were an abominable bitch, an obnoxious creature, a walking blasphemy, and a hate crime, Baekhyun did not think you could be an offspring of a lovely or healthy relationship, he was sure your parents were diabolical beasts, to his disappointment, you were reallyclever.

He wished you could be more reliable person, so he could work with you.

Baekhyun did not like to confess, yet he was aware of the fact that he desperately needed his own Evelyn O’Connor. Someone who could play the game with him, as his trustable partner in crime. He was extremely close to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, but they were not equal to his wits and ambitions. Sometimes he was brassed off the conversations, time to time he found them boring and lame. His logic was faster than his mates, actually he was longing for nothing, but someone was equal to his high-speed brain.

You could be the one he was searching for, but you were made of poison, greed, and wickedness. Even if he would be blessed by the Heavens, he could not agree to work someone with you.

“Your Highness,” he heard your fucking voice. “We have to visit at least twelve houses more; do you mind hurrying up?”

“The only thing I mind is your fucking attitude.” he gritted his teeth. “Give the plan to me.”

“So, you can destroy everything I organized properly?” you smirked. “I do not think so.”

“Organized?” Baekhyun cocked his eyebrow. “Organized, my ass. Didn’t you lose Park Sangwan’s house? Twice?”

“Look who is talking.” the red of embarrassment slightly painted your cheeks and ears. “The one who had no idea about today’s plans.”

“At least I did not lose my fucking way and circled around the same house almost for half an hour.”

“And the award goes to Byun Baekhyun for his greatest achievements.” you gave back the wink to him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, breaking news. No achievement no award.”

Baekhyun took it personally since you two competed to each other as the finalists of last academic year. Your project was accepted as the winner while Baekhyun received only a certificate. You hit the lotto, he had to watch you, walking to the stage with a bright smile tugged on your lips.

Still, he could vividly remember the little smirk you gave to him that night when they announced your name.

“You did it consciously.” his jaw clenched. “That night. When they called you as the winner. You immediately turned to me just to annoy me.”

“It seems, I achieve my goal.” your smirk widened, a glistening layer of fun covered your face. “Were you disappointed?”

“Yeah, of course.” he did not miss a single second. “I was disappointed of the professors, I was believing they were cleverer than me, but their choice showed me they were nothing but idiots.”

“Could you smell the air, Baekhyun?” you asked with a serious face. He was confused for a second, you never ask a question to him or call him by his name, but before he could register, you tucked the words in his throat. “Oh, jealousy, my favourite.”

“Darling,” Baekhyun swallowed hard. “There is no single living soul who can be low enough to jealous you in this universe.”

That was not quite truth, because Baekhyun not only remembered your revengeful smile but also how you were looking like that day. He could paint you on canvas by closed eyes, and he would not miss a single detail.

And he was a little bit jealous on that day. Not only because he lost over to you, but also because of the people around you. You annoyed him not only with your award, but also with your closeness to the other men.

Despite of your usual oversize clothes or no makeup policy, you chose to present yourself in a different style. Your hair was perfectly combed, your makeup highlighted your face features, and you were wearing a little light blue dress which tightly caressed your body. Baekhyun, or none of your classmates knew that you had curves for example till that night and to Baekhyun’s dismay, you had a really good body. You were a minion, your beauty was very soft and although he really hated to admit this, you were a view for the spectators. Maybe not the prettiest, but you had something had people looking at you, liking you, desiring you.

You had an aura which was enough to make your biggest enemy to silently acknowledged that you were attractive.

“Maybe, there is no one.” you shrugged your shoulder. “But youwere eager to low yourself, huh?”

You did not forget the look on Baekhyun’s face when Professor Kim called you to the stage. You were sure as fuck, he was cursing you but also there was something else, glowing in his eyes. Something you could not describe, but you could see the same emotion in your reflection when you saw Baekhyun with that crowd of girls.

Rarely.

But still you knew that feeling.

That ceremony was hard for you, of course you were over the moon because of your achievement, that project opened you some fresh opportunities and proved that despite of being a junior, you were more than a bachelor student. You proved your talents and abilities to yourself by winning the first place, you completed a step, made your first goal come true.

And you nailed Byun Baekhyun’s coffin. It was worth of every minute you spent sleepless, your tears and sweats, the hours in library, the hours in front of the plan of Gyeongbokgung Palace and search for the most logical and safest ways of conducting an excavation around the palace.

Your ideas were chosen over Baekhyun’s ideas, and you were aware of the quality of the solutions he proposed.

You were proud of yourself.

It was the bare truth that Baekhyun’s face were singing to you just as your favourite band could sing, seeing his face just like someone fed him with cucumbers was equal to being accepted into your dream field, Chios’ excavations, as the chief archaeologist.

But you were annoyed.

You could not happily taste your success. You could not feel its flavour on your tongue buds.

Because of that bastard looked fucking magnificent in that bloody black suit.

You have been told about the dress code you had to follow, however no one, not a single soul managed to catch his level of looking good in a suit.

You were annoyed because your taste in men was exactly equal to Byun Baekhyun. He had everything you could ask for, he was devilishly charming, there was even no need for words to describe him, he was beautiful.

And he was the only one you hated the most.

Every girl in the room was drooling over him, to your dismay, just like you. You felt that feeling in your stomach, a pain which was spinning, spinning, and spinning, causing a tornado inside of your stomach.

Was it jealousy?

“I already noticed your ignorance about the feelings.” Baekhyun could not control himself anymore and grabbed your shoulder, turning you to the opposite direction. “We have to follow this fucking street, or we will be lost again.”

“Have you been observing me, Baekhyunnie? That’s so cute.” you ignored the second part of his words, just starting to walk on the direction he instructed to you.

“Observing you takes a minute, baby girl, since there is nothing to see.” he answered but he found it interesting when you called him as Baekhyunnie. “You are a spoiled brat.”

“Hop, that hurts.” you pouted, pressed your fist on your chest, faking a whimper. “Would you like to tame this spoiled brat?”

You started to think that you went nuts.

“In your dreams.” Baekhyun laughed, but he literally lost himself in the fucking possibilities you could be tamed by him. “You have to wait a couple of centuries for someone who can be willing to be with you.”

You chuckled but preferred to keep your silence after his words. Damn, your sudden quietude caught Baekhyun’s attention more. Why didn’t you not attack to him? Why didn’t you give him a sharp answer as you should have?

Why you chuckled like there was a line at your door?

Was it?

Baekhyun pondered that instead of the fact that you were generally with a small group of friends, to both of your dismays your common friends, he did not see you with strangers, so there could not a queue for your hand.

Could it be?

And why the fuck he should have care if there is a crowd for you or not? No one could want someone like you if they did not lose their mind.

But he cared. Fuck, he cared more than he wanted.

Because to his disappointment, he knew that there was a real cavalcade of knightly candidates for you.

“Okey,” you checked the time. “After this one, I am going to have lunch.”

“We are going to have lunch.” Baekhyun gritted his teeth. “I hate eating alone enough to endure your presence.”

“Didn’t you tell me there is no one who could want to be with me?” you snickered. “But you have no reservations about having lunch with me?”

“Imagine the situation I am in.” he grumbled. “The day gets better and better.”

You decided to annoy him, pushing him to the edges as much as you could do. The first response that came to your mind refusing him, but the other option was funnier. You could play with Byun Baekhyun, you could take your revenge by being a pain in the ass.

He said that he could endure your presence.

You could make him regretful of his words.

There was a very little smile tugged on your lips which you were not aware of, however, to his dismay, Baekhyun realized it.

Her lips are rosy and plump, he thought to himself. Even though he called you a spoiled brat, he was not sure of if you were a brat or not. Kiddos have not the type of lips, calling people for the kisses, like you. There was something, even during your cocky performances when you tried to beat the life out of him, although you always kept that dull and bored expression and acted like Baekhyun was not worth of your time, but there was something just in you.

Baekhyun swallowed down his own vomit when he admitted it to himself, and you have caught his glare.

“What?” you purred. “Can’t you take your eyes off me?”

“Who the hell wants to watch you?” he quickly collected his thoughts and put them in a fucking trail. “I am looking for a restaurant where we can have good food.”

After a permanent mutual ignorance session for years, his next words caught you off your guard.

“You like local foods, right?” he asked. “I guess the second shop on this street is famous for jjangmyeon and tteokbokki.”

Well, you had to admit that his questions made your brain a little bit foggy. How could he know that?

“Yeah.” for the first time in history, you did not come up with any sharp answer. “How about you?”

“As long as there is no cucumber or extremely sweet cuisine,” he started to walk. “I am fine.”

You heard that Baekhyun is really not in good terms with cucumber.

“Feel you.” you murmured in your mouth because you hated cucumbers as much as you hated Baekhyun. He swiftly look at you, you accompanied him on the street.

“We should celebrate.” he teased. “I said something, you just answered, and we did not have a fight.”

“This is a privilege for cucumbers.” you shrugged your shoulder, but you also felt that he did not buy your nonchalant tone. “I cannot stand them, mum loves it too much, I mean what type of person can love a cucumber? If I need water, I prefer to drink it.”

Your observation made him tilted his head back in that rumbling laugh of his, you were unwilling to join, but the corners of your mouth turned up slightly.

“Here we go.” He, as a gentleman, opened the door for you, you responded with the most neutral expression you could muster. “Oh, no thanks?”

“Thank you.” you rolled your eyes, however, despite of your strongly negative feelings against him, you do not like rudeness. “Sorry, that was insolence of me.”

“Your apology is fully accepted.” he winked, you hated that cocky tone, you hated yourself for falling into his trap. You passed him, went to a distanced table where it placed in the corner. You did not want to be seen as having a lunch with Baekhyun by your teammates.

Corner was fine.

“Oh, no.” he grabbed your arm, manhandled you to the tables of the center. “I will not let you escape. If they see us, let them to see.”

Your eyebrows knitted, your lips pressed to each other enough to form a thick line on your face, you could almost taste your growing anger. But at the same time, you realized that feeling his hand on your skin increased your heartbeats, you wanted to scream with self-hatred, but you bite down on your tongue as his hand quickly wandered to down, to your waist. He directed you to the most visible table from outside while you were fighting yourself in order to control your fucking pace of breathing.

Please, this could not be true, I could not be excited because of his touch, you thought.

This was not happening, what the fuck was happening?

Baekhyun was not so different from you, even though his face expression was not changed for a bit. He forced himself to take control, but it was really hard for him.

Your hate was reciprocated, right? You guys could not spend even a bloody minute in peace, the only thing you had was annoyance.

So, why you perfectly fit in his embrace just like you were made just to be under his arm?

Why Baekhyun wanted to tight his arm around your waist?

Why could you not say anything even though Baekhyun was literally holding you?

Why you felt like you were in the only place where you had to be for the rest of your days?

“Hi.” you heard the waitress who was a really beautiful girl. “Welcome to Sung’s String. How can I help you?”

Even though finishing her sentence, she begun to eye Baekhyun. You rolled your eyes and reached to the menu; to be honest, this show was not funny after seeing it for the million times. Every time, Sejong Team went outside for a drink, for a gathering or even for a museum trip, girls and sometimes boys gazing the members of Sejong Team just like they were idols or actors because of their good-looking. Eh, they were not wrong, you had to say that the Sejong Team included really, really, and really handsome boys from Baekhyun to Chanyeol, from Kyungsoo to Jongdae and these boys’ superiors were Kim oh-my-godJunmyeon and Kim lord-help-us Minseok.

Well…

You were already got used to the reactions coming from all around when Sejong Team showed their faces. You knew that both of insiders and outsiders of Sejong Institute called your team members as the Flower Boys or a shitty nickname like that.

“I would like to have a jjangmyeon without cucumbers, and a tteokbokki.” you turned the menu off. “With a light coke.”

“Coke?” Baekhyun mimicked you like he could not believe his ears. “Are you kidding? Everyone knows that you have to drink jasmine tea in order to help digestion.”

“Have you been majored in nutrition?” you gave him your bitchy resting face. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No coke.” he wholly ignored you and turned to the waitress who was watching him as drooling. “Please, we want two bowls of jjangmyeon, two tteokbokki, also please we would like to have kimbap and kimchi as the garnitures and of course a pot of jasmine tea.”

“Yeah!” she sounded weaker after Baekhyun conducted all power he had in his eyes to her. “Anything else?”

“I guess we are fine for the time being.” Baekhyun smiled to her, causing a flush of redness on her cheeks.

“I will be back as soon as possible.” the girl literally purred, Baekhyun’s eyes shined after her reaction. Little bastard. You did not want to think about it, but his visible joy had your stomach churned. You inhaled and took your book out of your bag.

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun glanced up at you, reached to take the book from your hands. “Having lunch together means conversation, are you going to read?”

“Give the book to me, Byun.” you kicked his foot under the table. “I know you do not know how to read and enjoy but that’s a good habit to have.”

“Yeah, I know that habit of you gives nothing but lonely hours in library.” he had no limits of shooting his arrows. “Have you ever tried something different for a change?”

“Like what?” you tried to get back your book. “Following your great example and dedicate my life to your favourite sport? Sorry, I have no interest in running after women by lolling my tongue out of my mouth.”

“Baby girl,” Baekhyun put your book in his leather bag. “You have no idea whose tongue lolls out of the mouth.”

You could not decide on what you hated the most. Baekhyun or the girls after Baekhyun? You concluded as both of them were equally horrible in your eyes.

“I am sure your stories are incredible.” you inhaled. “But I really do not like to hear the anecdotes of miserable women. Could you give the book back before I gauge your eyes off?”

“Nope.” he grinned. “I can bet on you are still a virgin but tell me if you have an affair or not, I would like to pay my condolences to your partner.”

He was already written as the first name in your list of most-hated-people, but suddenly became the first man to be written as the first enemy of a lifetime.

“Did you finish your own list of dead partners?” you raised one eyebrow. “Thinking of its length gives me chills.”

“No dead.” his grin widened from one ear to the other. “They just had some temporary heart problems due to the performances I gave to them.”

You opened your mouth to slap his face with the words, but the waitress came back to your table with a huge tray. She was placing every bowl and plate, actually fucking Baekhyun with her eyes, you literally hardly suppressed your instincts, telling you to warn her immediately.

But you were not honest with yourself about why you wanted to warn her. In the deep of your mind, but in very deep, you had been starting to realize that you disliked when the girls threw themselves to Baekhyun because you wanted them to stop. You did not like the scene because you did not want to share Baekhyun’s gaze with another person.

You were lying to yourself without realizing what was the real problem of you.

You loved Baekhyun from the beginning, even though he was a fucking tease and a bloody smartass. There was no other man for you, if someone could cut your chest, the only thing would be seen in your heart was his name.

But that would be the heaviest self-enlightenment, and you were definitely not ready for such as a thing. That’s why you unconsciously continued to trick yourself by disguising your own feelings from your own eyes.

You got the chopsticks and decided to have your lunch instead of burying yourself in the maze of thoughts. Baekhyun realized your discomfort, but he had no idea what the real reason of your mood was, whatever made you unhappy was more than okey for him. He could be happy as long as you were sorrowful.

“You still not give an answer to the question.” he was persistent on pushing your limits. “Do you have a relationship?”

“Why are you curious?” you took a mouthful amount of jjangmyeon. How much you wanted to stuff these noodle strings into his throat, suffocating him to death. “If you want to send a bouquet, please note that I love blue roses.”

“You are really a virgin, huh?” Baekhyun diabolically grinned, you could swear on you saw the red halo over his head.

“Darling, you cannot make me angry by stating what is obvious.” you smiled back, there was no reason holding it back, you were always open on these issues, and a sick part of you wanted to tell him to see his reaction. “Yeah, I am a virgin.”

“Do you conservatively follow a church?” his chin dropped a few inches. “How could it be possible with all the boys who try to seduce you?”

Well, you did not expect to hear this.

“Come on,” Baekhyun continued. “I always see you with a bunch of men, do you really think they are following you only for friendship?”

“On the contrary of you and your limit-does-not-exist type of libido, people can build the bonds of affinity.”

“Only when they do not search for an open door to sneak in.” Baekhyun pointed his chopsticks to your face. “Telling you, I can name at least six permanent names in the waiting room.”

You did not see the hidden meaning of his words, however, Baekhyun was already became regretful, he silently prayed for your ignorance and blindness were going to keep him safe. Because he gave you the biggest clue of his interest in you by stating he could give even names.

He still did not understand how he could know everything about you or why he always put a brick on the ways of the candidates for you, but he did. Hell, he was unapologetically finding a way to prevent the boys who liked you and no one could understand it was Baekhyun. He always came up with a solution in order to intimate them, put them back off. You were not aware but Baekhyun always appeared around you when he thought a candidate was close to you more than he supposed to be.

He already put his stamina on you as his girl, but he was not aware of his own actions. He was not aware of what he has been doing, how he was persistently looking for you, searching for your face in every class or harmoniously living with your voice. It was like your breathing was singing to his ears, and he was dancing with your melody.

Baekhyun did not understand but he was yours.

“I am not sure what you think,” you sipped from jasmine tea with self-confidence. “But there is no such a fucking waiting room.”

“You are really blind.” Baekhyun chewed a rice cake, generously dipping it into the gochujang sauce. “Don’t you think Oh Seunghwan is acting like more than a friend? Or Jang Jeongbun? Jesus, even you really cannot be that much idiot.”

Baekhyun was right for the first time in history. You were nothing more than a retard because you really did not understand the behind the scenes of his words. He was unconsciously giving you the signs of his interests in you, but you were so naïve to see.

“They are my friends, Baekhyun.” you rolled your eyes back. “I know grasping the nature of different relationships is hard for you, but people can be nothing but friends. No need to add tensions or searching for hidden meanings.”

Every time you vocalized his fucking name, Baekhyun felt its impact went straight to his dick, and he hated himself for that.

You were not the type of people who could be okey with the target of teasing. You wanted to play, you wanted to be enhanced by it, sinking into the waves of the game.

And even Baekhyun did not admit it in his head, he believed you were the most attractive girl he has been known because of you always corresponded to his moves and cards.

“How about you?” you immediately played your reverse card, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I heard that you and your gorgeous looks which made entire school swoon and fantasize about you? Are you really called as the sexiest human being on the country?”

Your voice was the strongest indicator of your disbelief, he could be the biggest moron on planet Earth, nothing more nothing less.

Also, you were aware of those comments on Baekhyun more than you wished for. You kept everything you heard about him in your head, in the safest and the most secret file of your brain, refusing to think but keeping on unconsciously think about those speculations. You found them very suspicious, but not because of Baekhyun did not deserve to be called as the sexiest human being, you found those fantasies as unlikely because of Baekhyun had not that macho man stuff people were somehow attributing to him.

You had grown so sick from all of these dreams and comments, coming from every corner of school since Baekhyun was like a star.

And now, you had him seemed quite displeased with your tease.

“Only on the country?” he raised one eyebrow. “Shit, it seems I am not doing well.”

“Baby, you are coming after Park Chanyeol.” you sighed in joy of dancing on your tiptoes. “That’s a quite achievement, when you think.”

“Chanyeol?” he sighed in annoyance; you knew that you trapped his ego in a small box. “Coming after Chanyeol?”

“Yeah.” you gave the most nonchalant look to him. “Well, I can tell that’s quite unfair since Flower Boys includes really strong names such as Kyungsoo or Junmyeon but… Poor girls, they have to be lunatic to put you after Chanyeol.”

“What do you think about these extremely distorted images of us?” Baekhyun angrily took a mouthful of jjangmyeon.

“Do you ask my list?” you crossed your hands over your chest, cooing with gleamy eyes. “I cannot believe that Byun Baekhyun, asking me, a poor peasant, for her list.”

Baekhyun’s eyes darkening, and you were not sure why your mood was changed from the pure need of mocking him to an excitement which you could not ignore. His voice was really screechy and boyish when he asked your list, and his voice giving you a different kind of pleasure. Not the pleasure of scolding him, but the delight of toying him, pushing him to the edge.

But you did not analyse your current feelings, instead, you rushed to deliver your actually-not-existent list.

“We are talking about physical features, right? But I am going to rate everyone also with their characteristics.” you smiled. “For me, the first name is Chanyeol. I mean, look at that face he has, and his body ratio is excellent, but he has a golden heart. Then, of course Kyungsoo, he is fucking handsome, therefore, he is a great guy.”

“I really pity your tastes of men.” Baekhyun’s discontent with your made-up list was palpable, and the dissatisfaction of his tone was like honey left out in the morning sun.

“The number 3 is Junmyeon as always.” you wholly ignored his comment. “No one can say anything against to Kim Junmyeon, he is the definition of aesthetic. Minseok and Jongdae shared the same number in my list, and that’s all.”

“You forgot me.” Baekhyun snorted, his voice made you lifted your head. He was so tense; you never see his jaw clenched at this expand. What’s up his ass? you silently though in your head.

“I did not.” you were cool as a cucumber. “You are not in the list.”

Till now, you guys always ate each other, digging the graves for each other, always fighting always scolding always throwing invisible daggers to each other. However, you have never ever seen those dangerous lights, dancing in the pupils of Baekhyun after your words.

It was difficult to wrap your mind around the fact that you found this Baekhyun as more attractive than his usual-self and unfortunately you already found Baekhyun very desirable. Even though you would never even let yourself to think about being intimate with him, his eyes stirred something inside of you, ignited some fires close to your lower stomach.

“I am sorry to hear that.” you also never heard this cold voice tone of Baekhyun, and you heard almost every negative version of Baekhyun’s voice which he spared only to use against you. “Let’s finish the meals, we have to be back to work.”

“Yeah.” you nod, lightly smiled. You managed to make him mad, you achieved your goal to annoy him so bad.

Why did you feel bad?

Why did you want Baekhyun to continue on the game?

Why did you feel regretful?

Why did you want to cry?

When Baekhyun’s phone started to ring, you almost completed every house in the list Junmyeon gave to you.

And you spent the last two hours in a total silence. It was eerily, Baekhyun’s lips firmly presses into each other like he sworn on not to talk again. You were not so different, but inside of your mind, something was gnawing your inner peace.

You were not happy, even you coped with the most difficult task, shutting Baekhyun’s mouth.

But you were not happy. You did not feel like you got the prize.

Instead…

You were extremely sad, and you felt like you let the trophy to slid between your fingers.

You had to feel like you hit the jackpot, but quite opposite, you were miserable.

You were especially afraid of losing Baekhyun’s attention, your own heart was aching at the way you told him off.

Still, you were lying to yourself and trying to conceal what made you afraid, you were not honest to your conscious, however despite of your efforts, you knew something was wrong with you after his transformation after you showed him the door.

You were a coward; you were not accepting the solid fact that you were in love with Byun Baekhyun and what made you afraid was nothing but losing him.

However, you were also sure on Baekhyun had a place in your head, making you shutter, had you shaking in your shoes. You could not name where to put his name, but you knew he had a place in your life.

And you were horrified by the possibility of losing the chance of hearing his voice. Even if his cocky remarks were the only words you could rip from him.

“Yeah?” Baekhyun answered to the call, for a second, you were happy to hear his voice again, but he walked towards to the last house you had to visit without waiting for you. He did not do this, even in the beginning of the day. You took a deep breath, you did not know why the heck you were really sad for his sudden coldness, godfuckingdamnit didn’t you hate and always despise each other? You mentally slapped yourself to gather yourself up, but it was pointless, you rushed to catch him.

You were aware of there was a painful squeeze in your chest, but you could not understand the reason of its presence or how you could get rid of that.

“Junmyeon told us to retreat.” Baekhyun informed you without looking at you. “After this house, we have to run back to the meeting point.”

“Okey.” you nod, hated the meek voice tone you produced but your mind was not on the case, you were questioning your own feelings and firm beliefs about Baekhyun.

Baekhyun was not better, to be honest, he was worse than you.

When you nonchalantly told him he was not in your list, he wanted to puke everything he devoured during lunch even though tteokbokki was his favourite food. He wanted to punch himself on the face when you counted the members of your fucking list, he wanted to smack his head into the table.

Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Damnit, even Junmyeon found his way to sneak into your list, but Baekhyun was not there.

He was always sure of he would be landed in every list, but he never think that being in your fucking list was the most important for him.

Why did he care if you were not seeing him as a man or not?

This question swirling in his head had his mind shattering.

As much as he was happy to see you wiggling like a worm under the fires, he could not control his reactions against the problem. When he saw you trembling over a case, he was the first one always popped out of nowhere to fix the problem in the darkness and never let you learn that it was him. He did not let even Junmyeon to help you, putting aside Chanyeol or Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun was the one who had been saving your ass like he was your invisible rescue call.

But you did not name him in your fucking list.

It drove him into crazy. The lack of your attention. He never mean that alerting you on his helps or care for you, but at the same time, he never think that his efforts would be equal to nothing.

He hated himself as much he hated you.

While you were walking back to the meeting point, both of you were lost in your own darkest thoughts. You were carefully paying the attention in order to not to have immersed each other, however both of you wanted nothing but screaming to each other, enough to have the fiercest fight till now.

You wanted to lose yourself in Baekhyun just like he was dying to bury himself into you for his dear life. However, both of you were very good at muting the voices of your hearts and minds.

“Indy! Baekhyun!” you heard Minseok, turning to his voice. “It is going to be a blizzard; we have to find a shelter.”

“Ha?”

“The forecast was clear as fuck.” Chanyeol pointed Junmyeon who was glued to his phone. “Jun is looking for a hotel for us since we could not go back.”

“We can take the cabs?” you were puzzled, a blizzard would be bad, but it did not mean that you had to spend the night here. “I mean, we are not living in a different city.”

“Yeah, you are right.” Shinhye crossed her arms over her shoulders, trying to keep herself warm. You had to admit, although you did not feel it till now, the weather was really cold. “But the cab drivers refused to drive into the city center. They advised us to stay here.”

“How about using metro?” you asked. “It is not so hard.”

“If you want,” Junmyeon hissed at you, holding the phone over his shoulder for a second. “You can try your chance, Indy. However, we are going to spend the night here. Safe and warm.”

“He is right.” Kyungsoo smiled at you. “I prefer to be warm and dry, sorry.”

You took a look at the team, and everyone was approving Kyungsoo’s words like they were bloody zealots.

“Okey, dumbasses.” you sighed in annoyance. “But we do not have even fucking pyjamas.”

“You can always take your clothes off.” Chanyeol winked at you. “Who says you need a pair of pyjamas to sleep?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chanyeol.” a sudden blush spread over your cheekbones, Chanyeol could not help but burst into laughs.

Baekhyun was determined to ignore you, but he could not help himself.

“Yeah, number one.” he muttered between his teeth, enough to be heard only by you. “Golden heart.”

Your chin was dropped for a few inches after hearing his annoyed voice tone and vindictive comment.

Could it be the reason of his unexpected coldness?

Could he be jealous of your invalid expressions and your fake list?

No way.

He could not be.

Your heart skipped the order of beats.

“Okey,” Junmyeon interrupted your thoughts. “We are going, if we are lucky, we will be in the hotel before the bloody snow will sweep down on us.”

“Let’s go!” Shinhye grabbed your hand, dragging you beside of herself. You submissively followed her footsteps; however, your mind was distracted by Baekhyun’s last words.

Could it be?

“This is heaven.” Jongdae rubbed his tummy. “Thank you, Jun!”

“No problem.” Junmyeon smiled and looked at all of you, to be honest, after a really good and delicious dinner, everyone was knocked out over the table.

Except you and Baekhyun.

“If you want you can go to your rooms.” Junmyeon said. “Since we were fortunate to find a single room for each of us, I do not think we have to play rock-paper-scissor.”

“Ah, having a room for myself.” Minseok laughed. “I do not have to hear your snorts, Junmyeon.”

They were sharing the same flat, everyone laughed after his teasing, Junmyeon too.

“Look who is talking.” he beamed. “I am so happy that I am going to have one night without your damn showering rituals.”

“Tell us about it.” Jongdae whined. “Pleeeassse.”

While Junmyeon and Minseok had been giving details of their flatmate stories to the team, making everyone to enjoy the environment, you were deeply sink into the pool of thoughts.

What a day, you thought. And why I feel like I am desperate?

Also, Baekhyun was not enjoying the unexpected banquet, instead he was quite enough to draw attention to himself. Chanyeol was on the verge of asking what the heck was wrong with him, but Kyungsoo kicked him under the table, pointed you with his eyes. Chanyeol’s wit quickly grabbed the matter, and he devilishly grinned.

You gave a hard day to Baekhyun, and he had no intention to change a thing between you and Baekhyun.

He always believed that you were secretly liking each other, but as you were nothing but stubborn bastards, you concealed your feelings towards each other.

Chanyeol definitely had zero motive to interrupt the fight between you, if it meant you would understand your mutual feelings.

Junmyeon also sensed the tension between you and Baekhyun, but he was not the type of persons who could wait on his corner.

“Baekhyun? Baekhyun!” Junmyeon called out him, waking him up. “How was your day? Why you guys are silent as dead?”

“We completed the task.” Baekhyun answered sourly, the corner of his mouth jumping downwards faintly. “As you assigned me and her.”

Baekhyun deliberately avoided using the pronoun of us.

“And it was a hell of task.” he continued. “I am so tired.”

“Even if you are fucking tired,” Jongdae raised a rejection. “You never shut your mouth, tell us what the heck is gnawing you?”

The bloody girl who sits next to you, Baekhyun thought but he was clever enough to keep the filter between his mouth and brain as valid.

“The girl I gave a promise for this night.” he forced himself to beam. “Because of this fucking weather, I have to arrange another meeting with her.”

Your heart churned, his reply had you wanting to slap your face. Harshly.

And you thought that he could be jealous because you named Chanyeol!

You were nothing but such an idiot.

An idiot who did not know a single piece of shit but acting so superior.

You were a goddamn idiot.

Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed after hearing Baekhyun’s shitty words, Kyungsoo wanted to punch Baekhyun’s face so bad, Junmyeon’s dislike of Baekhyun was obvious but he did not say anything, just sighed in desperation.

You felt nothing but another flash of pain as someone hit your abdomen.

“Are you okey, Indy?” Jongdae leaned over to you, whispering. You shook your head positively, smiling slightly. “You did not throw yourself into even desert.”

Your love for deserts was not a secret amongst your friends as Shinhye, sharing Jongdae’s concerns, handed you a bunch of cloudy puffs, filled with lemon cream. You took one of them, although you had no appetite, you forced yourself to eat the puff in order to put your friends at ease.

He was your biggest enemy and rival, right?

Why you were so devastated, almost on the verge of being hysterical?

You were not aware of you had been hypocritical with your feelings, and you were running away from your own heart. That’s why your hands were shaking, your heart was drumming into your ribs and aching as hell.

You were not ready to face with your heart, but you were also too naïve to save yourself from the pain it caused.

“Was he really harsh on you?” Jongdae murmured, his eyes was nothing but full of worries. “I am sure you could put him in his place but still…”

“He was not.” you said. “And you know me, nothing cheers me up but kicking his ass.”

“Glad to hear that.” Jongdae inhaled but the worries did not leave his face. “So why are you so down?”

“I am really tired today.” you sighed, tucking another puff into your mouth as you mentally punched your face in order to take the fucking control of yourself. “But if I will eat enough amount of these pastries, I will be like a bomb.”

“You are already like a bomb.” Minseok joined into the chat. “You look like on the verge of exploding.”

You unwillingly laughed at his damn right assumption.

“You know what?” you sniffed. “I am dying for a good drink. Would like to join me for a soju break?”

There was no single soul who could oppose to propose of grab a drink in your team. Jongdae jumped out of his chair, Shinhye was born ready and Minseok was the strongest drunkard.

“We are heading to the bar.” Minseok happily announced. “If you guys want to join, perfect, if not, good night to all.”

You were always impressed by the eagerness of Sejong Team to jump into any opportunity for a drink. Everyone, every single soul of this team, had a strong will to consume a respectable amount of alcohol. Less than a minute, everyone gathered up and headed to the elevators in order to visit the terrace of the hotel.

You had been wondering how rich Junmyeon was, even though he was a senior in college, or which kind of relations he had under his belt.

Jesus, you could not pay your attention during the dinner, however the hotel you had been staying was nothing but a touch of luxury. You had a strong guess on the payment bill of this place, however you preferred to keep it to yourself as you knew that Junmyeon did not like talking about the wealth lies beneath his fingertips.

But the bar was intimating.

Minseok, Jongdae and Kyungsoo were having a fierce conversation about the administrative offices of Roman Empire, Shinhye were with Junmyeon as they were talking on the next project that they aimed to present for the Head of Department. Chanyeol, only God knew how the heck he found that, was playing a guitar and you, as dwelling in an extremely comfortable armchair, tucked yourself into a blanket like a sushi roll, were enjoying the sudden calmness around yourself. The dim lights, from the chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, casting mirages across the hall, showing the wooden tables scattered between the chairs and beautiful, fresh cut flowers in their elegant vases.

It is not Korean but Chinese or Japanese, you thought, however with your bad eyesight, making an observation about the porcelain and its design was impossible. Also, you were a little bit slothful at the very moment to move your butt, you wanted to indulge in the soju you were holding, not anything else.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, warm but unfamiliar, your head jerked to face the owner of touch.

Baekhyun was looking at you, however his eyes were different from his usual self. There was no intention to mock with you, his eyes were clear as the snow drops that covering the streets right now.

“May I sit?” Baekhyun asked to you, catching you off guard with an unexpected kindness. You nod, feeling a sudden increase of the level of excitement, but kept your mouth shut. “Thank you.”

Thanking you? Byun Baekhyun?

You perked up, starting to prepare yourself for the fight, despite of the considerable amount of soju flowing in your veins, you were ready to guard yourself.

His elbow brushed your forearm when he was rolling his body in order to adjust the chair next to you.

You were shocked by the reaction your body gave to the moment, the only thing he did was sitting on a fucking chair, but your cheekbones were on fire.

His hips, damn his hips your inner voice was hysterically whispering in your head.

“May I ask to which muse I owe this honour?” you searched Baekhyun’s eyes for a glint of dismissiveness, however this was the very first time you have been the target of sincere, chocolate brown and deep irises.

“I have a question for you.” Baekhyun quickly ignored your offensive joke. “Why I am not in your list?”

He may as well have tossed you inside of a volcano, kicking you into the pool of lava, the impact would be the same. Your heart prompted to your stomach, they churned together, your throat and lungs tightened so bad, enough to cut your air by yourself.

You open your mouth, but nothing come out, just a bubble.

“I do not know how to translate that.” he sneered however you were at a loss. You could expect a lot of words from Byun Baekhyun but questioning the reason of his absence in your fucking list was not one of them.

“There is—” you bite your lower lip to stop yourself, you were on the verge of confessing that there was no list, you just tried to poke his ego, but thank God, you still had a piece of sanity to hold on. “I do not understand. Why do you care my list?”

Do I look like I fucking know? Baekhyun wanted to shake your cage, he wished nothing but screaming at you with all power he had in his lungs. He had no idea why he was mad at you, but he was out of rage and the only reason was you.

“Because I am curious.” he leaned his elbows onto his knees, cocking one eyebrow to you. “And what I hate most is being ignorant to a case.”

“I know.” you spoke without thinking, your mind was delving into the current problem you had in order to find a balanced answer, so you did not realize what you exactly said.

Unfortunately for you, Byun Baekhyun did not become your biggest rival by being blind or deaf.

His lips slightly curled upwards.

But the gentleman he could be, he did not corner you for the time being.

“So?”

It did not mean he would not try to push you in order to get what he wanted.

“Is there a rule saying that every human being has to be interested in you?”

You were not aware of it, but your voice was cracking, and your breathing became heavier, quickened and there was a sheen of sweet on your forehead.

To your dismay, Byun Baekhyun did not unconsciously mark you as his girl without studying you to the bits.

“Humanity is a different topic.” he widely smiled. “I wonder about you, sweetheart.”

Your breath stuck in your lungs because of the endearment, even though you were aware of his teasing of you.

“You are not my type, Byun.” you dead serious.

“Ah, your type is Chanyeol, right?” he smirked, turning his head to the tall brunette who indulged himself into the guitar. “Should we alert him to your interest in him?”

“Goddamn, no!” you hissed at him. What kind of trouble he was aiming to knit on your head? “Do you know the definition of privacy? You are invading personal boundaries, dumbass.”

“I do not think so.” Baekhyun shrugged his shoulder. “If you like Chanyeol, Chanyeol has the right of be aware of your interest.”

“Okey, even a scoundrel like you cannot be crossing the limit of respect like this.” you moved to stand up, giving the most dangerous look to Baekhyun. “I do not have to lis-

“Hey, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun called him with a high-pitched voice. Chanyeol lifted his head, distracted by the unexpected scream of Baekhyun.

“What?”

“Nothing!” your hand immediately tugged onto Baekhyun’s knee, squeezing it tightly in order to warn him. “You are playing so good, keep going!”

Chanyeol laughed at your words.

“You do not have to scream like that, Goddamnit.”

“Tell it to your friend.” you rolled your eyes back, fuming with anger but covering your face pretty well. You turned to Baekhyun, your eyes telling him that he was in serious danger if he was not going to shut his fucking mouth up.

Baekhyun did not care your silent warning, but your hand on his knee was a real distraction for him.

“I know that he is not your type.” he murmured, watching your hand, small, pale, and soft, Baekhyun did not want to confess but he wanted to latch your fingers to his. “Is it Kyungsoo?”

“Do I interrogate your preferences of girls, damn?” you literally gritted between your teeth. “Leave it.”

“I have no intention.” Baekhyun turned to Kyungsoo, narrowing his eyes. “Let’s ask if you are Kyungsoo’s type.”

“What the fuck are you, cupid?!” you grunted, and your hands moved without your consent. You grasped Baekhyun’s jawline, your fingertips were brushing his ears. “I said, leave it.”

“If you want to shut my mouth,” Baekhyun beamed, ignoring the fact that your touch meant for a lot than he could expect, he was going to think about it later. “Tell me why I am not in your list.”

“No one can desire someone like you!” you exploded. “An arrogant, dandy, selfish boy who does not know nothing but bringing trouble to others. That’s why you can never be in my list, even I have to choose between you and an octopus. For the records, I hate octopus, but I would go for it, if it means the other option is you.”

“Oh, you hurt me.” Baekhyun’s eyes glimmered with the sparks of unnamed feelings. He leaned forward, enough you to feel his breath fanning your lips. “You know what, sweetheart? You are so aggressive only when you have a secret which have to stay only in your head.”

“W-what?”

“I am definitely in that list.” Baekhyun claimed it with confidence, but it was just the appearance. Inside him, his heart was definitely shuttering, cracking into pieces, he had no control over himself, he could not understand his sudden behaviours. “I am in your list, if there is a list.”

Your eyes widened, and pupils blown up.

“Jesus.” you snorted. “When you lost your fucking mind?”

“You are a pretty bad liar.” Baekhyun was making assumptions out of his ass in order to get a reaction from you, he was not fucking sure if he was in the list or not, but everything he said actually rang the true bells.

“And you are a lunatic.” your intense eyes pinned him down, and the frowning lips caught your attention, but you forced to came back to your senses as soon as possible. “You will never be anything more than a lunatic.”

You attempted to stand up, but he was incredibly swift to catch your wrist, pressing you back to the armchair.

“Tell me, sweetheart.” he held your wrist for his dear life, caging you and to your disappointment, coming closer to your face, causing your ability of speaking to be faded immediately.

His godfuckingdamnit lips.

“You have been having doubts on me since the day we met, your driving force is giving me hard time.” his breathing was fanning your cheekbones. "Confess now, why are you pissed at me all the time?”

“Hell, you do talk like you are so different. Aren’t you the one who always finds a way to be trouble for me?” you raised one eyebrow, letting him to realize the game was reserved for two people. “If it means liking someone, since when you have been fallen in love over heels with me?”

“You have no idea how much I want to place your heels over my shoulders.”

Your chin was dropped, his words had you turning into a mummy who was trying to register into his remarkable sentence without a single brain cell.

You had to come up with the best answer you could give. You had to find the best response to him, and it had to be a perfect balance of sharpness, cockiness, and matureness as it had to be said with the resting bitch face.

And you heard your own voice.

“Ha?”

“You heard what I said.” Baekhyun intensively gazed at you, the proximity between your bodies had your body quivering and trembling at the same time and his fucking knee slightly, almost insensibly pushed your legs apart.

“You are really nonsensical, Baekhyun.” you inhaled, doing your best in order to ignore all the jolts all over your body, numbing your mind but also setting the skin on fire. Every time you said his name, Baekhyun felt something turning in his lower stomach. “What the fuck you want from me?”

“You did not name me in your list.” You could not believe your fucking eyes, more importantly, you could not believe you were still listening his gibberish like a kindergarten kiddo. “But, I am better than everyone else here.”

His voice dropped the slightest, making you shiver.

“Would you like me to prove it to you?”

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 years

Text

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :) )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you."

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm.

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father.

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite.

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him.

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already.

For Percy though, this was the end of the line.

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur.

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement.

Percy.

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling.

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly.

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would.

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that.

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with.

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life.

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could.

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.”

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could.

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.”

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working.

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from.

The Ministry.

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond.

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand.

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said.

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind.

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen.

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that.

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again.

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again.

#percy weasley #Percy Weasely deserved better #angst #self loathing #depression #Percy Weasely needs a hug #blood #Torture #swearing #Sorry if it's rushed

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝓐𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓐𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓶: 𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹𝙺

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚄

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I breathed out an airy and desolate sigh through my nose, obviously I unconsciously did it a little too loud as the raven haired male sitting across from me looked down at the floor.

"It was all my fault.....wasn't it?"

I looked up, the glasses sitting on my nose bridge tilting slightly that I had to push them back up so I could study his features, or should I say, his expressions. His eyelids never blinked once, his eyes were trained on the pattern of the carpet underneath him, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. I looked with pity at the bandages wrapped around his wrists, some of the edges stained with fresh blood. I gulped slightly, my stomach threatening to spill out my meager lunch of an apple and avocado toast slice from earlier. I could handle hearing patients tell and retell me about how they stabbed their parents to death, cut off their significant other's genitals because they were unloyal to them, even tackled a deranged lunatic that once tried to...... seduce me to put mildly.......

But to this day, I can't help but get dizzy when I treat or deal with patients who are self harming victims, because yes, they are victims. Victims of their own self loathing, guilt, and depressive state that isn't their fault. It just pains me so much to see them resort to such drastic measures...

But I'm also not stupid and know some, if not most only do it for attention or to manipulate others, and Yunho is a case not far from it. Which is why I was the one sent to deal with him. All the other psychologists would have fallen for his sad puppy eyes, good looks, well built physique and would have released him too early into the world. Not that he's dangerous and a threat to society, but he's not emotionally nor mentally stable to go deal with daily life yet. And I'm not a softie by any means even if I'm patient and meek doctor when necessary. But I'm objective and I seek deeper into the true person hiding behind the front they put in front of me.

"Do you believe it was your fault Yunho?" Usually one would get scolded for answering a question with a question, but I prefer this method in order to get my patients to reason and draw out their own conclusions......

And makes them pour out their true answers.

I watch Yunho ponder for a moment.

"It has to be- otherwise she wouldn't have...wouldn't have-"

He bites back a choked sob, teeth tightening and gritting against themselves as he fails to contain his tears. His hands cover his face as he begins to cry uncontrollably, desperate and heartwrenching wails resonating throughout the 4 walls keeping us company. Reaching for the purple plaid box on the coffee table between us, I take out a few tissues and stand up from my seat. Lightly tapping on his shoulder, I whisper a 'here' to him. He thanks me, but since he's crying too hard no sound comes out his throat. For the next few minutes, he's blowing out his runny nose, all red just like his eyes from crying too hard. He's sniffling while trying to control his previous hyperventilating session. I want to hug him or at least give him a pat in the back. But I can't, I can only sit back and try to imagine the agony he's probably going through, try to put myself in his shoes as I dive deep into the event that got him here in the first place:

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Coming back from a trip to the store, Yunho momentarily looks around confused when he heard his baby daughter crying. Quickly putting the bags on the kitchen counter, he makes his way over to the nursery that adjoined the main bedroom. Calling out for his wife, he receives no response as he walks down the hallway. He calls once more for her but stops midway as he opens the slightly ajar door. His heart stops beating and his veins run cold as he stares into the lifeless body of his beloved wife hanging in the room, feeling as if the oxygen is being ripped out from his lungs, suffocating slowly.

As if sensing his agitation, his daughter's cries from the other room grow louder, so much that they raise concern from their next door neighbor, a kind and sweet old lady who more than once has offered her help in watching over the child or help them out in any way she could. Typing in the passcode, she makes it there just in time to stop the tall male from inflicting more harm upon himself as he holds onto his wife's body in agony. Having been left with no choice, she immediately calls for an ambulance, who arrive there shortly and take him to a nearby hospital.

He was monitored 24/7 as he had a history of attempted suicide before. The nurses and doctors didn't want another episode to happen again, not wanting to leave a barely 1 year old fatherless as well as motherless. As an investigation went, police found a journal hidden deep between the mattresses on the bed. When they poured over the first pages, they knew there was much more to the story than just a doting husband who couldn't live without his wife, hence why he was relocated to the infamous asylum......

And a specialized woman was tasked to not only unmask the truth, but hopefully help a poor broken mind be put back together again.

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Hence why I'm here now, the folder I had read over and over again still on my lap. It honestly amazed me that I'd actually get to work on a case like this, and of course I took up the challenge of digging into a mind like Yunho's, not just to help him, but to leave a precedent for any other situations like this that came after.

"A precedent?" I remember the officer asking me.

"Yes. You'd be surprised just how common these types of toxic relationships there are in an everyday basis yet no one ever looks deeper because they're too focused treating a depressed person who's trying to kill themselves and don't focus on what they really are...."

Shutting the folder, I tucked it under my arm before turning on my heel.

"A manipulative individual who'll do anything to keep someone tied to them forever."

That's how I viewed Yunho, it's how I should be viewing him. At least until I could hopefully get him to change.

"How's......is my daughter ok?"

I let out a soft hum and nod as I scribbled something down on the notepad.

"She's fine. We're having someone take care of her in the meantime, don't worry."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, fingers fidgeting against his thighs as he mustered up the courage to say something.

"Could I.....could I please see her?"

From the sad look in my eyes he could already tell the answer was negative.

"I'm sorry Yunho....I'm afraid until we see some improvement, we can't allow you to be reunited with her just yet."

I tried to keep my voice steady as I said that, bracing myself to possibly see him breakdown once more. He had already lost his wife and now learning that his only child was forced away from him could possibly send him spiraling down into another episode.

But Yunho instead took a deep breath and seemed calm.

"I understand.....it's ok..." I knew he was saying those last two words more to himself than to me.

Lifting his face up, he suddenly shocked me by looking so bright and rather happy.

"So I guess it's best if we begin right?"

Even to this day, I don't know whether I should have been delighted to have such a compliant patient.....

Or terrified.

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"Tell me Yunho, what was your first reaction when you saw your wife?"

A subtle hint of a smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"I thought she was the kindest and most caring person in the world, very pretty too. She just walked in and the room instantly lit up."

He was reminiscing about those times, I could tell. That fond look on his face was unmistakable.

"Do you believe you fell in love at first sight with her?"

His smile suddenly dissipated, eyebrows scrunching together as if recollecting memories from so long ago.

"I think.......I felt attracted to her.....but.....I don't think it was love?"

I could tell he felt conflicted with himself, but that's exactly what I wanted. I want him to question every feeling and sensation he felt at the moment so he could decide for himself if it was real or just a mere illusion he held. If he starts to second guess or question what he felt then he'd start reasoning and come to the conclusion that what he felt was wrong and mistaken. He'd see that his actions weren't justified.

"So when do you truly believe you fell in love with her?"

I stopped writing on my notepad and watched him close his eyes as he tried to pinpoint the exact time he felt whatever he thought was love.

"One night....one of our friends was feeling down in spirits. I witnessed how caring she was towards them...kindly reassuring them that they were loved, that they mattered. I vividly remember her kind eyes and loving smile as she comforted them. Then it hit me that she was that kind of person. Selfless, caring, doting, would sacrifice anything for her friends and family...... it was hard for anyone not to fall in love with her."

He turned his hand over, studying the wedding ring that he still wore to this day, the engravings of their initials being his prime interest.

"And at that moment I knew I had to have her. I couldn't let anyone else have her. I wanted her.... that love, compassion, empathy..her confidence and strong nature, I wanted-"

He stopped mid sentence and his eyes wizened in horror as he came to the realization I had foreseen long ago. He looked up at me, meeting my unwavering eyes that held no emotion at that moment.

"She had all the qualities I had always lacked in."

I took my glasses off and nodded.

"And I unconsciously wanted them for myself.... but the only way I could have them was...through her?" He seemed sickened with himself.

"Not exactly Yunho. You could have learnt to love yourself and raise your self esteem." I quickly scribbled my observation down.

"But I didn't. Instead I caged her up and slowly tore her down."

I couldn't help but let out an involuntary smile as he drew out that conclusion.

"Glad to know you've accepted that fact, even if it took several months for you to understand."

Shutting the notepad, I lifted myself up from my chair, straightening my blouse. Yunho followed suit.

"Is our session over?" He was always so polite, always escorting me out and holding the door open for me, which other doctors would have adamantly refused, too scared to come close to their patients. But not me. I let them have certain liberties at times.

"Not yet Yunho. As you've made remarkable progress, I got permission for you to see someone."

He was momentarily confused for a split second. Poor thing probably thought it was one of the nurses coming in to give him some new medication to take, which he hated with a passion. Stepping outside for a brief moment, I happily took the young baby in my arms, the little girl already used to seeing me as I always went to go see her after being with Yunho for a few hours. When I came back inside he had his back turned to me, once again staring off into nowhere. The light gurgled babbles the baby emitted caught his attention immediately. He whipped his head around so fast I thought he'd break his neck for a second. He teared up as the child began squealing in excitement as she recognized her father right away.

"Oh my-" He choked up with tears that he couldn't finish his sentence.

I calmly walked over to him, lightly bouncing the baby in my arms. Yunho hesitantly reached his hands out.

"Can I..?" He had such a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I didn't answer, I merely held his daughter out to him. As soon as she felt his embrace, she latched onto him as if he was one of the teddy bears she often slept with. Perhaps he was one.

No....he is one.

In my time of spending time with Yunho, I've come to strongly believe he is a sweet and tender individual. And judging by the way the little girl feels safe in his arms, I do believe he is capable of being truly loved.....

If he learns how to properly love not just someone else, but himself too.

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Stepping out of my car, I quickly grab the small pink bag on the passenger seat before locking it. Treading through the small patch of green grass, I ring the doorbell and wait for one of the occupants to open up for me. No surprise, I'm greeted by the same raven haired male I met nearly 3 years ago. He looks delighted to see me.

"Y/N. Hi!"

I wave at him, a small but genuine smile on my features.

"Hi Yunho. Did I come at a bad time?" I notice the apron covered in flour and leftover egg on it.

"Oh no not at all. Please come in."

Moving aside to let me pass, my nose catches the scent of baked goods filling the air. I can distinctly recognize the hints of lavender and french vanilla, an odd but surprisingly tasty combination. I spot out of the corner of my eye a little head peeking out from the kitchen, curious to know who had come to pay them a visit. Letting out a squeal, she quickly ran over to attach herself on my leg.

"Y/N!"

I chuckled and lightly run my fingers through her hair which was longer than the last time I saw it.

"Hi Jina, I see you've been baking something." We both chuckle as I scraped off some cake batter that had gotten on the tip of her button nose.

"Me and dad are making cupcakes for my friend's birthday party tomorrow." She explained.

"Wow that's a really nice gesture. I bet they'll turn out delicious."

Remembering that I was short on time and that I had one last task to carry out, I pull out the bag I had hidden behind my back and hand it to her.

"It's for you."

Her eyes began to sparkle so much they could rival all the stars in the galaxy. After thanking me like 20 thousand times, she plopped her tiny body on the couch to tear into the contents inside it. I shake my head before taking out a small paper from inside my trench coat.

"And this is for you."

Taking the slip from my fingers, Yunho opens it up and scans what it says. He seems confused for a moment, not fully understanding what it means. He looks to me once more, probably for the last time, asking for an explanation.

"It's your official release from the institution. No more drop in visits, no more eyes on you 24/7, and soon you won't have to continue with the prescribed medication, although when that happens they will send someone once in a while to check up and make sure you're ok without them."

Yunho nods but it is a rather sad and pained nod.

"So this means you won't be seeing us any longer?"

I inhale deeply and nod.

"This was a temporary thing until you got better Yunho. After all....I was only the doctor assigned to you."

It hurt me to say that as much as it probably hurt him, as much as it'd hurt Jina to know I wouldn't be coming back anymore.

"Can't we at least be friends?"

I hated seeing those puppy eyes of him practically beg me, signature trait he passed on to his daughter.

"That would be completely unprofessional of my part Yunho. I deeply cherish and treasure all the time we spent together and I'm beyond happy and satisfied that you've come so far since the start of our journey..."

I sighed deeply.

"But every journey has an end." He finished my sentence.

Extending his hand out to me, I took it and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm really going to miss you." He admitted.

"Me too. Me too."

Going over to the momentarily forgotten 4 year old, she let out an 'oof' when she suddenly found herself cooped up in my embrace.

"Take care of yourself and of your dad ok?"

I kissed the top of her head, her grinning face not registering that this might be the last time she ever saw me. Yunho walked me out the door and even escorted me all the way to my car. Always the gentleman, he held the door open for me. Before I could even get one foot inside, I felt a large hand grip my wrist. Turning to him, I was flustered when he suddenly pulled me close to him.

"Please don't leave. I need you....I..."

He looked conflicted with himself as he tried to finish his words. Taking a deep breath, he confessed:

"I love you."

My heart sank. He said the 3 words I hoped he'd never direct at me. Mainly because I was scared as he was. Don't get me wrong, Yunho is a wonderful man, and he truly deserves to be loved....

But am I certain that he has finally learned to love? Or is it because he feels he needs me?........

Only one way to find out.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Raise the Stakes, Part 4

This one's a kind of "interlude" before we get back to the full story but I wanted to at least get SOMETHING posted here because I want people to know I'm alive and writing. So not a lot of plot advancement.

If you want to understand what's going on here, you'll probably want to read:

Place Your Bets

And, of course, Raise the Stakes Part One, Two, and Three

Pairing: Jay White x OFC (obliquely referenced David Finlay x OFC)

Word count: 1,028

Content advisory: sexual content

That’s it, you’re done with sex.

It’s the first thought that comes into your head when you wake up or come to, whichever it is, the next morning. You honestly can’t imagine how wrestlers do it, fighting night after night, because you’ve had two nights of rolling around, stretching, and scratching but not even doing anything that’s intended to hurt and you feel like you might need a wheelchair. You wonder if you’re going to be scuttling around looking like an inverted Y for the next several days.

More importantly, though, you can tell by the light outside that it’s later than you’d normally get up and that means that there’s probably already work piling up, unanswered messages accumulating on your phone. You slide gingerly towards the edge of the bed but immediately, Jay’s arm locks around you.

He grunts softly but says nothing, doesn’t even open his eyes as he pulls you back against his chest.

“Jay, I have to get up… work,” you plead.

“No,” he mumbles, his arm constricting around your ribcage.

“This is for your sake. You’re the one who needs me to get things done for you.”

A low growl rises from his chest and he opens his eyes, which are already rolling back in annoyance. He rolls himself on top of you, pushing his hair out of his face before both of his arms close around you again.

“Your job is to keep me happy. And the only thing that’s going to make me happy right now is if you stay right here.”

He nuzzles his face into yours before he starts kissing your neck and jaw, tickling the sides of your stomach as he does and laughing when it makes you scream and wriggle helplessly underneath him. He grinds his hips against yours, which makes you wince.

“You cannot possibly… I feel like I got attacked by a pack of wild animals, you horny bastard.”

He licks and nips at your collarbone, laughing at your undignified squeaks when he probes at one of the many bruises he’s left on you. He slides his hand between your legs and presses two fingers into your aching pussy, laughing when you yelp in pain. He swirls them just inside you and you’re almost ashamed at the realization that you’re wet- very wet- even though the idea of having sex again is terrifying. After a minute, he withdraws his hand and lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking and licking them clean like a child with an ice cream cone.

“Say you’re staying here with me.”

So unlike him to phrase it that way, as if you’re the one with the power. You’ve seen Jay be needy, desperate for praise and validation, but never in this way. This time, it feels like what he needs is you. In the blur of last night, that’s what stands out to you, the sense that he was trying to fuck you so hard and so well that by the end of it he’d own you.

“If things get screwed up, you’re not allowed to yell at me,” you chide. “I can’t fix everything the way you want if I’m in bed with you.”

“What makes you think I need you to fix anything?”

He buries his face in your neck and you can feel him sucking at the skin hard enough to leave marks. You hope you remembered to pack a turtleneck because you’re going to look like you have a skin condition for days.

“That is literally the purpose of my existence. I make everything work the way you like it.”

He kisses you passionately and as much as you want to respond in kind, your jaw hurts just like the rest of you, and you whimper, making him pull back.

“How is it possible that you’re not hurting the way I am?” you whine.

“I am,” he responds with a wicked smile. “I just can’t stop myself. I guess I just care about you more than you care about me. And you're so mean that you make me pay to keep you here.”

“Oh, you can just-”

He cuts you off with another kiss and this time you can’t help but respond, pressing your aching body against his and holding him close.

He rolls back onto his side, pulling you up against him and running his fingers through your hair.

“Ok, maybe I’m a little sore,” he says with a wink. “Can we just lay here and kiss or something?”

“Definitely,” you giggle. “Grown-ups don’t make out enough.”

“Are we grown-ups?”

“Yes, Jay White, I’m afraid we are.”

“Scary.”

The two of you kiss slowly, languidly, romantically, running your hands over each other’s bodies as if you were strangers. In a way, it feels like you are strangers because you don’t ever remember feeling like he’s been this focused on you. You’d never thought that he’d be so insecure at the thought of losing his position in your life that it would push all other concerns from his mind, but that’s apparently what’s happening. Is he just so obsessed with maintaining control over what he perceives as his? Or is it that his obnoxious behavior has been a cover for real feelings, a way of keeping you wanting him because he thought it was the only way to keep you close?

You’ll both have to get up eventually, of course. There are things that work demands from both of you. But the truth is that the world isn’t going to stop if the two of you fall off the radar for a few hours more. If he’s happy, the company is happy, and that means you’re doing your job. Nevertheless, there’s still a part of you, a sad, naive part, that wants to check your phone to see if there’s a message from someone else, someone who’s made you feel as beautiful and desirable as Jay does, but without the self-doubt and self-loathing.

That isn’t for you, you remind yourself, grinding into Jay’s body and moaning as you feel his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass. Other girls get to have that sweet, uncomplicated love. You’re meant for this: passion cut with the inevitable pain.

#wayward wrestle writing #jay white fanfic #jay white imagine #njpw fanfic #njpw imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction

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mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

9 months, 28 days

Chapter 3 of 10 Months

CW: discussions of death

A/N: this is the end of the beginning! im not sure exactly how long this stories going to be but yolo

The cafe is almost empty, just like always. That’s why they loved this place so much as kids. No one they knew was ever here, sitting in the mothball scented booths- only the occasional elderly couple who didn’t give a fuck that the place hadn’t updated it’s decor since 1995. Clouds rolled in overnight, painting the town a somber grey. Mattsun feels like it should match his mood, but it doesn’t. He’s not sad, he just… is. There’s this weird, turbulent void in his chest where his despair should lie.

Hanamaki’s in the corner when he arrives, nestled into the booth with a mug. He watches the rain trickle down the window, tracing the paths of the drops with his finger tips. It’s very ‘white girl protagonist’ Mattsun decides. Like he’s the star of a Hallmark movie. The void in his chest pulses and he swears, just for a flash, it was warm.

“Hanamaki.” Mattsun slides in across from him.

“Well, lookie here at the big boy in his big boy suit.” Hanamaki taps his nails against the glass, not even looking at his friend. “Did your mom help you pick that out?”

“This is technically a business meeting, so I had to wear something nice.” he explains. “Or else my boss is going to think I’m just screwing around.”

That’s what it feels like. It feels like work. He’s just putting all of this into his little box, so he can file it away in the storage files of his mind. He’ll process it later, when the moment’s right.

Or never.

Makki tents his fingers together, like he’s some sort of super villain. He’s always had this casual, uncaring air about him, but it seems to have developed further into a chaotic mess. “Ah, so you’ve decided to plan my fun-eral.”

The black haired man sighs. “Only if you stop calling it that.”

The waitress wanders up, expecting orders in her typical, unfriendly way. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume it was the same woman from years ago, still equally sick of her job.

Neither of the men look at the menu. Mattsun orders a cheeseburger omelette and a coffee with six sugars, the same horrible thing he’s been getting since high school. ‘The American Experience’, they called it. Makki orders plain toast, notably not the same thing he’s been getting since high school.

“You should eat more,” Mattsun says, “You’re too thin.”

“Who are you? My mom?” he takes a long swip from his mug,

“If I was, I wouldn’t be-” Mattsun stops himself, much to Makki’s delight.

“Oh, please make a dead mom joke. Please.” Makki’s on the edge of his seat, leaning halfway across the table, “My mom would have loved you making a joke about her.”

Mattsun slinks down so far that his knees pump against the booth across from him. “That’s… yeah, you’re right. She would have loved it.”

Mattsun wants to say he misses her, but it doesn't seem fair. To miss Hanamaki Hana would be to miss Hanamaki Takahiro, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to miss Hiro.

Makki looks exactly like his father. He's there in the too thin nose, the gap between his canines and molars, and the clubbed way their fingernails grew.

but his mom's in his idiosyncrasies. She's in the laughter, the winks, the tiny things that make Takahiro himself. Truly a mama's boy, Makki taps his cup against his front teeth the same way she did. It's their thinking face.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mattsun regains control. His notebook and reading materials jut out against his stomach from their spot in his coat.

“Are you really sick?” It surprises both of them. Maybe it was the thought sitting at the top of his head, maybe he meant to say it. All of this just feels too sudden, too random, Mattsun just can’t quiet his doubts.

This is why the time apart was good; Makki made him do stupid things, made his brain stop working.

“I- uh. Yeah.” Makki's face doesn't change, but his shoulders fall. The tension in his body deflates as he goes back to looking out the window. "You're such a dick."

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You really think I’d lie about all of this?” he laughs, but it's flat, "To do what? To crawl back into your life?"

"That's not what-"

"Newsflash, asshole- I've been doing great without you.” the mug slams against the table, “I've been really, truly, wonderfully happy since-"

The other man picks up one of the pieces of toast and examines it, before carefully ripping the crust off. It’s a delicate procedure, carefully peeling off the edge on one, long piece. Makki opens his mouth to continue, then closes it with a low, thoughtful hum as he rolls the crust into a little ball.

"Makki." Mattsun holds up a finger, pausing the conversation for a moment as the waitress approaches. They sit in silence, mumbling only a quiet thank you as she

drops off the plates. She doesn't seem to notice the tension in the air or if she does, she doesn't care. She pours the coffee carefully, counts out the sugar packets like she's rationing them. As soon as she turns, he sighs and curls his hand into a tight fist, holding it in the air for a second before letting it fall. "Continue."

“This was a dumb idea. Forget I even asked you to do this.” he tosses the bread ball into his mouth and chews, “I’m just gonna go.” Standing suddenly, he grabs his coat from the booth beside him.

This would be the third time he let Makki leave and, according to the time left, the last. Life is fickle, an unpredictable lace pattern made by the people in your life coming and going. Mattsun was used to dealing with the final goodbyes and usually found comfort in it. No more chapters to write, all secrets buried and forgotten- truly, nothing left but what you can see in rose colored glasses.

And yet some part of him- the stupid part, the crazy part, the self loathing part- panics at the thought of seeing this end.

"I know you're better without me." Mattsun sighs, "But I want to help you, if you'll still let me."

“Stop.” Mattsun’s heart pounds so hard, dancing across his skin, that he can barely recognize he’s touching Makki, holding his wrist down against the table. “Sit. Eat."

Makki just raises a brow.

Reluctantly, he complies, but not before he tugs his hand out of his friend's grasp, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a sneer. A boundary has been set- no touching.

"I'll let you." he turns his attention back to the mangled food on his plate, "But only because I want to finish my toast."

"We good?" They are not, but Mattsun prays for a lie.

"For now. But watch yourself." It's a win, albeit a half hearted one. Mattsun pulls a tiny notebook from an inner pocket of his coat and flips through the pages until he reaches the last page; it's the farthest out thing he's planning, of course. It’s marked ‘The Hanamaki Service.’

They let the silence sit between them as they pick at what’s in front of them. The terrain of this relationship is uneven, constantly changing. It’s like hiking a mountain in the winter, Mattsun decides, one wrong move, one noise too loud, and the whole thing will come crashing down,

Why does he even care?

Makki’s happy without him, he’s fine without Makki.

He shouldn’t care, and yet he stays.

The black haired man stabs a hunk of egg and watches the half melted cheese try to stretch. “So, to put it all simply: what our home does for you is the basics: Legal procurement, transportation, preparation, and disposition- you don't have to worry about any of it. We also offer a location for interment and service, depending on the type of service you require, of course."

"Location?"

Mattsun takes a bite. "For the service and for you to, um, rest."

"You mean rot."

Maybe eating wasn’t the right choice for this conversation. The texture of egg now feels wrong in his mouth.

"Don't say it like that." The preservatives slow that down, so the rot won't happen for a long time, he brain reminds him. It doesn't help.

"I already have those places picked out though." Mattsun waits for a joke to follow, but he’s surprised when his friend says, "Bury me near my mom and hold the service here."

"Here?" Mattsun asks, “There’s nicer places.”

"Save a dying business with a dead guy. It's irony."

"Okay, well. That's-" he sighs and scribbles into his notebook. This wasn’t going to be a traditional job, was it? "At least the catering is done then."

"Perfect." Makki pushes away his empty plate, "I'm a natural at this. You should hire me.”

"Long term positions only, sorry." It slips out before Mattsun can censor himself, but Makki just snorts into his tea.

It’s frustrating that they click together so well, especially because nothing’s been resolved between them. One minute everything threatens to break, the next they can sit here and joke with each other. The issues sit there, waiting in the corner of the room, cocked and ready to fire. If they just didn’t look, maybe it wouldn’t hurt when it finally attacked.

If they didn’t look, maybe they can pretend nothing happened.

Mattsun reminds himself that he doesn’t care. There's still that blank space inside him.

“Next step would be flowers.”

It’s not. They should discuss embalming versus cremation, but the words stick to his throat. He’s asked so many times before, stared forward as loved ones debated what to do without a care in the world. This time shouldn’t be different.

“I’ll think about it. Can’t say I know too many flowers off the top of my head.” Makki digs his phone from his front pocket and scrolls, looking through everything before tapping out a quick question. There's a twitch of his brow, barely furrow, but it's gone in a flash. Before Mattsun can even ask, Makki's gathered his coat in his hands. “Gotta go.”

“What? We just started-” The whiplash is what hurts. Just as Mattsun feels like he's found his footing, it's gone again, slipping out from under him. This must be some level of hell

"Something came up." he shrugs, "Don't worry about it."

"I won't."

"You're such an asshole." he says, "You're supposed to at least pretend to care."

Yeah, he knows. That's how life works. But he can't just pretend; it's a gateway to actually feeling.

"I'll try." Mattsun offers, "It was nice to see you."

Makki rolls his left shoulder over and over again, like he's trying to work out a kink. "Was it? Was it really?"

"Kind of."

"Thanks," there's a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "We'll do this again."

And like that, with no formal goodbye, he just starts to leave. Mattsun wants to protest, but he’s grateful. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been, how hard he'd been digging his fingers into his thigh. The void in his stomach somehow feels smaller and larger all at once. He kind of wishes it would just swallow him up and this would all be done with.

It's so easy not to care.

“Oh, and Mattsun?” Makki pauses by the door and picks out a familiar black umbrella that was leaning against the doorframe. He twirls in in his fingers like a baton before pressing the button and letting it unfold. It's bad luck to open an umbrella inside. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Mattsun just looks down at the table. His food is barely touched but he doesn't plan to eat anymore. With his heart in his throat for no good reason, he feels nauseous. Despite himself, he wonders if Makki still smells like cedar aftershave and the discount brand laundry detergent.

“That fucker didn’t pay.”

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trashdeviant · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Venom/Eddie x Reader

Tw: cussing

Your fists are trembling before you realize that you were clenching them enough to dig into the palm of your hands. As much as you considered laying your hands down flat to calm down, you could only unclench them in a gesture of stress before balling them up again. You had barely made it outside of the building when you rested your back against the wall.

“Fuck…” You rasp.

It was so infuriating when he decided to come at you with this passive-aggressive shit. Almost like he saw you as the problem. He loved Jessie and really missed having that shit-faced motherfucker in your life. Raf acts as if you betrayed him when you decide that you never wanted to come in contact with that childish low-life. You had plenty of names for Jess, but you really needed to shake them out of your head for now. This is about Raf stepping out of line with you.

Good. Great. Wonderful.

You felt like so much shit at the moment. Whenever things got rough you would always storm into the apartment to hug him and cuddle until he helped you calm down. A searing hot tear glided down your cheek, although your face was emotionless. It hurts.

Hurts to know that you couldn’t go to him this time. This is what you get when you refuse to spend time outside of your home. You’re not really sure how long this was going to last either. But you were as stubborn as you were torn between apologizing and finding another place to sleep tonight.

Finally your brows invert in anguish and you look up in a poor attempt to stop the tears from pouring. Your arms felt as heavy as your chest. It’s times like these that make you wonder if Raf even liked being your friend.

“You don’t get to fucking call me that…” It was more of a breath than a whisper, but it was an effort to try to keep youself from spiralling into thoughts that degraded you into thinking this was all your fault and that you were a terrible person.

Maybe you were, but at the moment you weren’t in the mood to hear it from yourself. Growing up you had to teach yourself to keep out of that spiral or you would do something drastic. It doesn’t always succeed and yet it was at least an effort being made.

This time your brows furrow as you aggressively wipe away tears on either side of your face before cracking your knuckles. You need to try to ground yourself and shake off some bad thoughts before you could hear them. That sounded weird. Now you rush out of the area to keep your mind running just as you were rather than focus on the bad thoughts. Sometimes you would pace around the apartment when you were alone just to think of things to defend yourself or think up whatever you could for a distraction. The latter being less useful than the first.

Right now you were jogging across the street to head to whatever seemed familiar. You had to be careful as you had the tendency to get side tracked and get a little lost in a street you rarely traveled.

Raf had no place to guilt trip you into even being friends with someone that cheated on you. Jess could never gather enough humanity to even acknowledge what you had gone through in that relationship. ‘Yeah I understand your decision…’ you scoff at the thought. Raf told you all sorts of shit like that after the break up. A few months later and Raf develops this little habit of scaring off anyone you would bring around him and later talk up your ex like a car salesman. You still haven’t felt like you needed to talk to Jess. As a matter of fact, you owed neither of them anything. Regardless of the fact that you three used to be an inseparable trio.

You grit your teeth.

Rafael is a selfish naive piece of shit if he thinks he will ever get you to crack and open up your life to that whore. You are not obligated to talk to them; that is that. If Raf can’t come to peace with you cutting a whole motherfucker out of your life then that was his own problem.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” You grunted silently to yourself-punching a nearby surface that seemed to be a wall.

The mere voice in your head that reminded you of his constant excuse made you cringe in a sudden wave of anger. ‘I’m stuck in the middle’, was short for, “You’re not being fair! Stop being the problem and make up with Jess so I can enjoy myself in the presence of both of you!”

First of all-Raf isn’t in the middle of anything! He is a grown man and can go see Jessie whenever he wants to or even invite him in while you’re out! He is the only one making everything such a big deal. ‘News flash, Raffie, you’re no peacemaker here!’, your blood boils at the fact that he couldn’t treat you two as separate friends. Even Jess was able to understand you wanted no part of them!

You cut people out of your life for a reason! Not only did they cheat on you, but was generally an asshole too! Just because Raf can’t gather the strength to end something completely does not mean you had to adapt to what he wanted! It is not illegal to cut someone out of your life and it could be perfectly healthy for you, even! Regardless if your circle has only gotten smaller and smaller over the years...

“I don’t need any of that shit! If I have to I’ll move, Raf!” Your voice hissing his nickname,”If you can’t live without that bitch and me then I’ll do you the fucking favor of cutting myself out of your life! Who the fuck says I need either of you!?”

You stop dead in your tracks and look down at your shoes. There was guilt and suffering swelling inside of you. You had only said that because you couldn’t think of any other way out of it than having him hate you. Hot streaks of tears return as you lower yourself into a crouch and hold your head. You don’t bother to fight the urge to pull your hair.

‘I do-I need you…’

A pathetic plea that lands on nobody’s ears. This was going to be the death of you if you keep going down this path. The sun was beginning to set. Orange and pink flourishes across the skies. Sobs rake through your body as you hide yourself into the alleyway. What the literal fuck? You could knock a man into a coma and here you were weeping like a lonely child. ‘You’re a selfish piece of shit-go to hell-he tries hard for you and here you are talking shit-what kind of friend are you-what kind of a sibling-a waste of a contact-a waste of a life-a bastard-motherfucking piece of-’

Your heart was stuck in a traffic of emotions. The selfish asshole doesn’t realize how badly you wish it could go back to the way it was too if it made things any easier. But like hell if you were going to ruin yourself again for the sake of his comfort. ‘Be the bigger person’ was such a load of bullshit. A ticket for the other to avoid consequence if he asked you.

A nervous hand is offered to your trembling form before you even realize there was anyone walking towards you, “What are you doing in here?”, he begins his question with your name, which was enough for you to snap your head up at him. ‘Eddie?’ You had forgotten how burnt up your eyes must have looked. Dropping your head in embarrassment you hide your bruised up features and take his hand. “Not having a good night.” Your own voice repulses you and you have to stop yourself at choking up as another wave of self-loathing thoughts creep up on you.

There was no lying to him considering you couldn’t think of a good cover story for crying in an alley in the dark. The least you could do was keep it vague to spare him from listening to you gripe about something so irrelevant to him.

“Need me to walk you home?” Panic surges through you for less than a second at his question.

“No! No-thank you. Uh…” You mentally shake yourself before you continue, ”Um, do you mind if we just walk to your place?”

A sigh leaves you when you relish in his nod. You fail to notice how he had helped you up and draped his jacket over your still trembling body as you walked. Eddie most likely thought you were shaking from the cold rather than your little meltdown. How cute.

After a moment of nothingness that leaked into you like acid, you decide to open your mouth despite how your sore throat protests, “Thank you, Eddie.”

“It’s no problem.” He says it so casually it almost makes you nauseated with guilt.

There was another silent pause, “So…” You began, “How did you… find me?” That insinuated that he was looking for you, but you didn’t know what else to say after half of that question had already left your mouth.

He purses his lips for a second. Then proceeded to do something that finally had you smile at him and even muffle the wrenching ache in your heart. Eddie stammers and stumbles over a word or two as visual warmth creeps up his ears. You ponder what he was hiding before he is able to speak again, “We-I-I forgot our-my tater tots and I ran back to your place and your brother answered and told us to come find you here…”

“Okay…” that made you stare wide eyed. He was kind of a shitty liar considering Raf doesn’t know where you are.

He stirs at your silence and leaves your gaze about forty times in the matter of two seconds. To his shock you begin giggling. Then you began to chuckle. Followed by some laughing that was hard enough that you had to hold your stomach. He holds you still as you take a moment to recover. ‘Damn, wouldn’t it be crazy if he was some psycho stalking me or whatever?’

Maybe your laughter was contagious or you just looked stupid, but he begins to cackle along with you. You both probably looked pretty stupid. With a careful step you continue the journey back to his place the moment your laughter slowly dies down.

“You’re weird” You wheezed through a last few fits of giggling that left you breathless.

Eddie was just as bad as he wipes away some water building up in his eye, “You don’t know the half of it.”

The bad thoughts push at your neck and build a little pressure in your chest as a harsh reminder that you shouldn’t be enjoying yourself. You smile through the pain, yet he asks you if you’re alright and if you’re hurting somewhere. His voice goes soft with an undertone of concern. You couldn’t swat at the butterflies that shift in your organs.

“I’m fine. Just shit hit the fan back at my place.” You wince in disgust when you reveal that little detail. Eddie notices and offers implied choices, “Want to talk about it?”

You could either walk in more awkward silence or you could awkwardly blow up on him. Much to your own displeasure you settle for the latter.

“Do you believe in shit like ‘being the bigger person’?” You curl your fingers to make air quotes around your words as you speak. You didn’t want to be talking to a brick wall of morals after all.

Unsure of what you were expecting, you turn to look at him, “Not really. I mean… Past experiences makes that kind of complicated to answer, but… not really.”

Sighing, you look forward to avoid eye contact; naturally as the coward you were, “Raf only blew up on you because he thinks you would ruin the chances of me focusing on a friendship with an ex of mine.” He scoffs, but you continue before he could say anything, “But Jess is kind of a shitty person and I really don’t care about bringing that fucker back into my life for his sake-uh since me Raf and Jess were all friends once…” You stopped there deciding last minute to keep a lid on it.

“Does Raf know you don’t want to be friends again?” You didn’t expect him to actually say anything after that. Nobody really ever did aside from Rafael.

“Yeah, it’s been almost a year already, but it still comes up.”

“Wait-why does he care? Can’t he still be friends with Jess and be your brother?”

Eddie seemed genuinely confused which was actually kind of adorable, but you ignored that thought, “Because he feels like he’s stuck in the middle of us. He wants it to go back to how it was when all three of us were together and tearing shit up.”

“So it’s really about him then?” More of a statement than a question. It made you look up at him in realization. The only feeling that lingered from your meltdown was the guilt of being a selfish asshole. You almost forgot to be a little pissed at him by the time you were mostly out of it.

He takes note of your reaction and speaks carefully, “I’m starting to think you two have really different feelings going around about different parts of this situation.” You nod in affirmation.

“So that’s probably why you two haven’t figured a way around any of this. Like you both rely on one of you just clicking and finally getting it so one of you can have it your way. But if you don’t then it’ll just come back up again later, right?”

You nod again, mostly in a daze. He was actually making sense to you somehow.

“That is so unfair...”

That actually makes you huff out a bit of laughter, “Tell me about it.”

You two finally make it to his apartment complex. By the time you two make it to the door of his apartment he’s already pushing you inside. Playfully of course. In his defense you were acting like a vampire that needed to verbally be invited in.

You stand politely next to his couch before you hear him scoff jokingly, “Do I look like the Queen of England?” When you don’t respond he steps into your view to hold your arms comfortingly, “Relax. Sit.”

Offering an apologetic smile you add onto you nervous behavior, “I’m sorry I’m just kind of… It’s been a while since I’ve…” You didn’t want to sound all that depressing, “Look I’ll try to…” Jesus fuck this was a disaster, “Ugh… I-I’m…” You wish you hadn’t said anything at all at this point. Huffing in defeat you finish your thought, “I’m just tired. I’m sorry.”

Eddie looks at you closely as if to inspect you.

The silence was always weird. What was he thinking and why did it always take this long? Was he thinking of a way to kick you out? Your internal stress was rudely interrupted when he places something in front of you. The smell of cupped noodles pushes your embarrassment down your throat; almost forgotten. You didn’t seem to understand right away. Did you look hungry? Was your stomach making weird noises? Enough!

You took a forkful and hummed thankfully.

He takes his place next to you with a cup of his own. Perhaps he could sense that you were still bothered by your situation, or maybe he was just curious, you weren’t sure which as he begins to inquire, “Does Jess know you don’t want to be friends?”

Nodding, you swallow whatever is left in your mouth, “Yeah. I mean sometimes I hear from Raf that Jess would rather talk it out and I don’t know. Explain what happened that night maybe. Raf tells me that things have changed and how Jess changed, but I don’t… I don’t actually want to find that out for myself.” You couldn’t help but shrink at how horrible you were beginning to sound now that it was all being said out loud.

More silence.

“Should you really have to?”

There was a second before you choke up dryly at your next thought, “If I don’t then I’m just a coward and Raf is going to give up on me and won’t talk to me and-” Scorching tears return at full force by the time you feel yourself shaking against someone’s chest, “-I’ll be alone and I don’t want to be-not like this-I don’t want to be-” Arms tightening around you never made you feel so small. Your voice was growing less and less coherent and yet you pretended otherwise as you kept babbling on about fearing yourself. Does Rafael really think you don’t care enough about him if you don’t go back to being friends with your own fucking ex? You ball yourself up and cling to his jacket as if you would slip into the void if you let go.

‘Back at square one’ your mind jested. How would he ever talk to you again after this? Eddie was probably thinking ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ right about now. You were a wreck basically the first day you’ve met him! At least Raf didn’t have to worry anymore considering you ruined this poor dude’s night. A devastated smile tugs at your lips. His seriousness wavers at the feeling.

“What?” He has to pull away to look at you.

Your eyes were puffy, skin slick with tears, bruises still evident. Not only were you disgusting, but tears had soaked through his jacket, much to your embarrassment. You naturally avoid his gaze for the millionth time that night, “I’m sorry for fucking up your night.”

For a minute he seems to be at a loss for words. You mentally slap yourself for even saying anything and putting him in such an awkward position. Just as you were about to fill in the gap with more gibberish and half baked thoughts, he retorts, “You didn’t fuck anything up.”

You blink up at him to see that he was smiling down at you.

“Okay, sure, you’re crying on my couch and I don’t really know what to do with my hands-” His face almost beams when you snort weakly at his comment, “-but I would rather have you here than crying alone in some ditch-or alley in the dark.”

Then suddenly, something hit you. You wouldn’t be crying in his arms tonight if you just kept your conversation light. If you didn’t blurt out each and every little detail. Mostly because it was weird to do to a stranger you met just that day. Even most friends would look for distractions as an answer. He asked about your situation and kept prying. He was looking for the smaller details. Because he’s a reporter.

Or maybe he was just that nice of a person.

You move one hand to hold your side as you begin another contagious wave of laughter that resulted in you hiding your face in his shoulder. It was more down-played than the last, but still unrelenting. You weren’t sure why, but it all just seemed weird enough to you to be laughable. Not too long after were there strings of laughter rumbling throughout his body. For some reason, the bouncing of your head against his quaking shoulder was automatically hysterical to you. Your laughter grew by the second. This had to stop.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie snickered.

Only after a humiliating snort or two did you answer, “You!” the mirth finally dives back into calmness as you provide some clarity, “You’re just,” your words were broken by a lingering breath of laughter, “so weird…”

A nervous chuckle draws your attention, “Weird good or weird bad?”

“I don’t know,” a bit of mischief teases your lips when you see his reaction, “You go looking for me in an alley after the shitty breakfast I gave you and let me into your apartment all ugly with tears.”

Slowly, joy kicked at his lungs. His laugh was cute. Man, if this dude turns out to be a murderer just lurring you in, you were going to be pissed.

“Yeah… I think you’re a good weird.” You didn’t realize how close Eddie was to you until you sneak a peak of his deep smile.

He seemed to realize it too as he takes the opportunity to lean a little closer and wipe away any lingering tears off of your face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was coated in honey when you decide you want to meet him halfway. You begin slow. He was so close to you; his breath easily warming your skin and sending goosebumps up your arms. Suddenly you were cold.

You blink at the view of him continuing to eat his leftovers.

“Your soups gettin’ cold.” The shit-eating grin that he bares was enough to light a fire under your ass.

Shock was written all over your face, nevertheless, you grab your soup and continue to eat. There was some silence that weighted the atmosphere. Maybe he was expecting a different reaction out of you, you weren’t sure, but nobody was about to be playing hard to get with you right now. You cackle internally.

“So do you-”

A smile that could sell for innocence graces your features.

He swipes his tongue over the corner of his lips slowly to catch the drop of soup from the small corn you had flung at him. It catches your gaze through the corner of your eye. Feeling like you’ve won, you continue to eat.

Unfortunately you only had half a minute to mentally brag. A lukewarm piece of noodle smacks lamely into your jawline before falling into the remainder of your soup. You gasp and shoot an infamous glare which slowly falters beneath the playful grin that surfaces.

With a flick of your index finger you move another piece of food on the tip of your fork. In a flash, you bring a fist down on the handle and launch a small piece of partially soaked chicken right into what would have been his chest.

What happened instead was actually quite impressive. Your eyes widen to see Eddie lunge forward and catch the food in his mouth. For a second you swear you see his teeth sharpen, but dismiss it as a mere exaggeration of his action. You raise your hands to defend your face as he chuckles and flicks another one at you.

You cry out in laughter and launch it back at him; hitting his nose. Another one flies at you, but you slap it out of your way. It splashes into your soup and further dirties your hoodie. At the moment you didn’t really care. That being said, a few more minutes into your little warfare and your hoodie was as bad as your crying face was a few moments ago. Eddie wasn’t as bad after catching two more when they were just a little too overhead.

“You want me to wash your hoodie for you?” He gestures to the filth that caked the fabric. He looked smug albeit a little apologetic.

“Nah it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” An eyebrow raises and you cave, “Uh… I would take it off, but I didn’t bring a shirt…”

Humiliation manifests on your face just as Eddie raises a brow. There’s no issue when it came to Raf seeing you shirtless, but with someone so new? It was weird. You can’t help but be a little insecure. He scratches the back of his neck in thought before offering another option, “I could give you a shirt, no problem.”

You were going to decline, but you could feel something slick and cold sticking to your stomach. Shivering you nod gratefully, “Please?”

Keeping close to him you follow towards a closet full of clothing. Eddie pulls his shirt over his head. Your eyes immediately trace the muscles that flex and contour his back. Fuck, it actually makes you want to cry. You play it off as a sigh and peel your eyes away from him as he slips into a clean shirt. Were you making things weird? No he probably didn’t notice anything. He hasn’t made a sound yet anyways. Yeah-no it’s nothing. He can’t possibly see that look on your face! Did you see those tattoos? Wipe that drool off your face, he’s turning around!

He places a soft fabric into your hands and points to the bathroom. You were still too ashamed to meet his eyes and notice his smug expression. Instead, here you were in his kind-of-gross bathroom. Stripping off your hoodie you pull the shirt over your top half. If you were being honest, you wish you were out there in front of him. Your mind went into the gutter while you imagine trying to show off your muscles and whatnot.

“Everything okay in there?” You jump and reflexively grab your hoodie off of the sink.

“Y-yeah. I’ll be right out.”

Anxiously, you pull at the collar of the shirt. You couldn’t stop yourself. Pulling it closely to your lips, you inhale lightly. His scent was almost like its own spice. A sweet musk with enough zest you sweep you off your feet.

You hear him shuffling around in his living room and quickly make your way out. The shirt was an easy fit on you, actually. Eddie was a pretty big guy anyways so you were grateful for the size. Your eyes glaze upon the shirt he wears now. Imagine tearing into such thin fabric… You catch yourself before getting lost in the figuration again.

“Thanks. I’ll give it back-”

“Don’t worry about it. Looks better on you.”

‘Smooth Criminal’ was written all over him, “Not as good as you look right now.”

“You think I look good?” He stalks up to you and you feel your heart flutter.

“Didn’t realize I stuttered.” You hum, amused.

Before things could escalate, Eddie clears his throat. He seemed to be keeping himself back. It was absolutely annoying…

“You stayin’ the night?”

“Only if you’ll let me.” There’s some hopefulness in your words.

He catches it and feeds you a promising grin, “Guess you’re stayin’.”

The rest of that night was a blur. But much to your displeasure you two didn’t do much of anything. You could tell because you were both leaning against each other on his couch with the TV on. The urge to kick something in frustration was strong enough to pick Eddie as a target. Not that you didn’t have a nice time, but you would rather be walking off a pair of sore legs right about now. He stirs next to you and leans his back against the couch; taking some weight off of you.

You desperately want to move, but not off of the couch. You wanted to lay your head in the crook of his neck and you weren’t even sure why. That was weird. He literally met you yesterday…

‘What the fuck.’

Your head was comfortably tucked against his toned thighs. Too busy being stuck in your thoughts you fail to notice you were slowly being pushed into his lap. You really needed to stop daydreaming because you are doing things you basically tell yourself not to do.

Eddie was already waking up before you could fix your mistake! Quickly shutting your eyes, you pretend to be asleep. A moment later and Eddie was shifting beneath you in contempt of trying to control your breathing. Were you being elevated? You refused to face the music by opening your eyes just yet. Not even when you felt his seemingly huge hand caress the back of your head.

He does lean down to you though. Your heart comes to a screeching halt in hopes of him leaning down to kiss you. However that does not happen. You could feel him. Eddie was taking in your scent, greedily. You miss the chance to stop yourself from shuddering. This almost made you feel vulnerable. But worst comes to worst, you could take a hit and dish one out too.

There was an animalistic rumble that has you peek through your lashes. It was horrifyingly good and ran up your spine better than any man’s “lower” voice. The subtle clicking was weird but did wonders to your core. In spite of peeking, it was just Eddie’s nervous face.

The jig is up.

You squint at him-as if you were just waking up-appearing tired and disoriented, “Dude,” You couldn’t help throwing in a drowsy chuckle before continuing, “are you sniffing me?”

Mentally jumping for joy at the fact that it took the attention off of you for sleeping on his lap, you watch in amazement as he stammers with an excuse and chokes up on nothing. He was as nervous and messy as you were.

In the end he comes up with nothing short of, “I just… thought you smelt nice… is all…”

As nice as it was to see him sweat over anything, you crack a smile and offer some honesty, “Thanks. I think you smell nice too.”

Shit was so awkward it was just easier to laugh at each other at this point. You sit up and make a bit of a show at stretching. With your arms raised, you make sure to flex. The shirt was a little on the thinner side which made it easier to tease your little audience as it left almost no secrets and gave just enough details. You finish with a scripted yawn that flows into a soft moan and rest your hands behind your neck. Lasty, you blink away your bedroom eyes to see him still staring. You almost laugh at him when he opens his mouth to close it again.

‘How pathetic is that?’ You chuckle to yourself.

He looked frazzled and scared to say anything. You feel a surge of energy and confidence the moment he practically turns around to run away. There was no way in hell you didn’t just hear him whimper.

Laughing only when he makes it into the safety of his bathroom, your phone nearly vibrates off of the table.

[R: Aye call me or get over here]

[R: Cause I just got you a fight]

[R: Its flashin’ big money]

[Y: How big?]

You two may be fighting, but when it came to you fighting other people, it was an implied compromise that you two still work together.

[R: Call me or smthng]

Eddie was just coming out of the bathroom. His bed head looking more like it was on purpose than an accident.

[Y: Can’t rn… I’ll be over in ten]

[Y: Ttyl]

Pocketing your phone you look at Eddie bashfully, “Hey… big guy?” oh god-no awkward…

“Big guy?” His grin was already talking dirty.

“Careful-I know where you sleep.” You point at him accusingly before laughing it off, “Anyways…” ‘You’re stalling…’

“This was fun… and you’re really nice. So thank you…” He at least seemed pleased by your words so far, “But, Raf texted me so…” Until now. His face was weirdly disappointed. All you could do was sigh mentally, ‘I don’t want to go either…’.

“Are we going to see you again sometime or?” You gave it some thought. You didn’t actually have a job with your winnings mainly covering the rent. Not to mention, Raf was the one working at the bakery on 24th street. Memories flash you with images of you lounging on the couch or working out. You had all the free time in the world.

For a second, you twist from side to side indecisively. You kind of wish for a way to attach him to you hip. You liked him and despite all the teasing and whatnot, he seemed as shy and weird as you were. Just as lost.

“Hm… What are you doing tonight?” The smile he answers with was rewarding.

“Don’t know yet… You tell me…” Jesus fuck, did your heart just float away?

Keeping your cool you place your palm against his bicep, “I know a cute little place we could meet up.”

You give him the location of a sweet little cafe that was open in the late hours. He was familiar with it and called it a date. A swift hand grabs your hoodie. You quickly toss it onto your shoulder and poke some fun at how you may just keep the shirt. It felt softer than any of your shirts. Everything felt like it was lingering, “You want me to walk you home?”

“I’ll be fine.” Punctuating your words with a shameless flex of your bicep. You really didn’t want to go, nonetheless, you bid him farewell after a bittersweet chuckle, “Anyways-Got to bounce. Ciao.”

He waves you off and closes the door behind you. Your heart needs a moment to deal with the loss of company. As you move down the hall to exit the building you hear Eddie’s muffled voice, “Wh-God shut up V.”

He seemed irritated, but he was chuckling. Strange. Who was he talking to?

You pay it no mind for now and focus on your journey back home.

#venom x reader #Eddie Brock x reader #venom #trashwriting #this was also in the drafts so #sorry for the wait #in case any of you are wondering I do look into my inbox at your supportive comments #still helps a lot #thanks

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years

Text

Prince of Nothing III

~ Part Three of Five ~

Release Date: July 17,2020 @ 12 a.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 6,646

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: Some of the contents in this story may not be suitable for all audiences. These include toxic relationships, manipulation, gore and various forms of abuse as well as rationalization of said abuse. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

A small part of Yoongi trembles at the sight of the light blue house just a few feet away. It had been several weeks since he’d been there and it took all of his self-control, and a bit more, to stay away. It was his safe space. Somewhere he felt incredibly safe and after the guilt threatened to eat him alive Yoongi needed a break. Needed his songbird to take away his pain even if it was momentarily. The driver opened the car door, allowing him to step out. His saunter was light, feet barely touching the ground, even though he desired nothing more than to break into a sprint. Min Yoongi must always maintain an air of pacificity and general aloofness. Emotions were a weakness and now that the prince was aware of his, Yoongi had to proceed with caution.

“Welcome home, Master.”

“Where is he?”

Yoongi wasted no time with pleasantries. His cat-like eyes darted around every corner of the room attempting to find any trace of his beloved. “He’s in the garden master. He hasn’t eaten much since your departure.” Yoongi sighed, heading towards the back porch. There were many places that his songbird was allowed to be inside the manor, but he always preferred the garden. It was the only piece of the outside world he was entitled to see, Yoongi had told him it was for his protection. Even if they both knew it was a lie.

As he turned the corner he suddenly stopped, from where he stood he could see the porch in all its entirety. The glass that encased it allowed for one to view the beauty of the outside world without being exposed to the harshness the elements may bring. It was a beautiful day, the setting sun filtered through the glass creating prisms of rainbows which danced around the room but what shined brightly was him: draped longingly across the plush blue velvet chaise. The tan of his skin glowed effortlessly and Yoongi always found himself admiring it. When he wasn’t admiring the pillowy lips, sharp eyes, and rounded bottom that is.

“Songbird?” The man in question paid him no mind, despite Yoongi knowing he'd been heard. Slowly he approached him, his songbird was delicate yet ferocious. Life had forced him to live on extremes to survive and though Yoongi wished he could say that all of this had changed since being in his care - it had only worsened.

“I thought you would’ve replaced me by now. Seeing as you have found yourself a new toy.” There was an edge to the man’s tone, the words almost withered at the end.

Yoongi rushed towards him, his strong arms cradling his fragile lover, as he tried to calm his fears. “No, my love. That wasn’t for me. It was a favor I did for the prince.” His songbird stilled in his arms, he had only met the prince once in his life but it was enough to instill fear in him forever. A repressed memory of blood and screams flashing in front of the young man’s eyes. Yoongi didn’t understand why his lover struggled to get out of his hold.

“J-”

“So you’ve condemned someone else to suffer the same fate as I have?!" There it was the rage in his eyes. Yoongi shakes his head ready to defend himself, but his love doesn't buy it. "Why else would a Jeon be interested in a commoner?!" Despite all his efforts, Yoongi managed to maneuver the man back into his arms. Yoongi felt fire travel through his veins, vexed at how his beloved behaved.

“Don’t speak as if you are a prisoner. I have given you the world.”

“In return, you’ve locked me away in a cage, so that your songbird may only sing for you.”

Yoongi scoffs, shoving his songbird off him and standing up. "If you don't want me then, I'll leave. Wallow in your self-pity by yourself." Before Yoongi could take even a step away, the younger man had grabbed hold of his wrist. It was several seconds of tense silence before he finally spoke. "I've longed for you so much. Please don't leave me alone again." Just like that his songbird was broken once again, unable to sing. Tenderly, Yoongi placed his hands on either side of his lover's cheeks, cupping them gently as he leaned in closer. Their kiss was superficial, one-sided, but it didn't mean it wasn't passionate. Even if one side was fulled by love and the other by loathing.

YN ran through the long-winded corridors attempting to find a way out. She had been running for several minutes now and knew that she couldn’t be too far off from a staircase or the servant’s quarters, but her surroundings remained the same. It felt as if she was running in place. As if the castle itself was determined to not let her escape. Eventually, YN’s body grew depleted and she rested against the wall, listening intently for either guards or her captor to come to find her. It was the rhythmic clicking of heels that alerted her that someone was near. Vito, who had been comfortably resting upon YN’s forearm trailed up her body, wrapping across her neck and dangling down: ready to attack.

Jungkook had given YN a weapon, one that wouldn’t attack him, but wouldn’t hesitate to defend her. It caused her to worry, it meant that the prince was certain he was not the only threat to her safety. It seems there were those who were bigger and worse than him - or liked to pretend they were. Mistress Eun rounded the corner, her flamboyant yellow dress caused her to stick out like a sore thumb. It had been weeks since YN had seen the woman responsible for her brother’s death. If it were up to Eun both of them would be six feet under. Mistress Eun, in a world of her own, didn’t notice YN until they were mere feet apart. Her expression was one of shock before she quickly schooled it, grinning maliciously.

“Well if it isn’t the talk of the town.” Eun’s eyes dragged down YN’s figure and a disgruntled look overcame her face when she noted how YN’s lavish gowns far surpassed hers. “If it isn’t the prince’s whore, look at you effectively climbing up the social ladder. What would your brother say?”

YN didn’t respond, too furious to even attempt too, on the outside though she looked nonchalant and that bothered the older woman. It enraged her. “You really ought to be thanking me, child, if it weren’t for me you would have never met the prince. Likely would’ve died in a pigsty with no one to remember you.” The wrath turned icy cool and YN began to wonder if this is how Jungkook felt at times. She could almost hear him whispering to her: Do it. Hurt her. You know you want to. Mistress Eun stepped closer to YN, face mere inches away from hers as she hurled more insults. “The two of you were rats. Pests. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be here so don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re just a plaything to spare his boredom.” YN smirked causing Eun’s blood to boil.

You wouldn’t get caught. It would be so simple. Vito could do it. YN tightened her fists, letting her nails dig into the palms of her hands.

“Then again, had your brother simply accepted to sleep with me and not embarrassed me with his rejection he’d still be alive.” Had Eun known those words would seal her fate, perhaps she’d have been more careful. Though it is unlikely she would have, she was never particularly smart and always brash.

YN’s hands flew around Eun’s throat tightening and squeezing as Vito jumped out aiding her. Do it! Kill her! It was not her voice inside her head, it was not her controlling her movements. Once YN realized that she ripped her hands off Eun's throat, taking Vito with her. By then, however, it was too late. Mistress Eun lay dead on the castle floor. The shock caused YN to remain frozen staring at the hollow eyes that seemed to plead at her. Her haze dropped to her hands where Vito was resting, they were shaking incessantly. Jungkook’s voice was no longer in her head, but YN was certain it wasn’t a delusion. What is going on? Strong arms wrapped around YN’s torso hoisting her up, YN’s reaction was too delayed to have been able to do anything.

It was someone YN had never met, blonde ashen hair stood out against his dark palette. He cast one glance at Eun before his hooded eyes fell upon YN a sense of familiarity in them. “The guards will be here any second. Run straight and turn left, there is a large tapestry attached to the wall. Push against it with all your might, it’s a door. Follow the sound of the cicadas and you’ll make it out.” YN parted her lips to question him, but she heard the distant murmurs of guards. “Take that thing with you.” The stranger looked disparagingly at Vito who hissed back. YN gripped the serpent in her hand and took off, sparing one final glance at the mysterious stranger.

Jungkook held the mouse over Morte’s head, allowing the snake to lunge before quickly moving it away. This continued until the activity eventually grew dull and Jungkook let the dead mouse drop into the snake’s jaw. The young prince rolled over onto his bed, his mind drifting towards YN’s fear-ridden expression when she’d failed at hurting him. Not to mention the look of shock when he’d called her his queen. The girl was full of surprises and was like a drug to Jungkook - strangely addicting. A part of him longed to be near her at all times but knew that wouldn’t be the smartest decision. There were always eyes on Jeon Jungkook, but now there were eyes on YN too and he couldn’t risk it. Not if he wanted his plan to work.

Morte stilled beside him alerting Jungkook to the potential danger. Jungkook lifts himself from his bed, looking towards the door. Awaiting the knock that was sure to come, Jungkook wondered who would be so audacious as to bother him in his bed chambers. They were likely more reckless than bold. "Come in." Jungkook mumbles, seconds later Seo Kangjoon is greeting him. Jungkook supposes he should have known it wouldn't be long before the Seo’s came to force his hand. It aggravated him to no end that they thought he would simply bend over to their will. The Seo’s held power: their family was the head of agriculture in the land. The crown needed them for crops and they were very popular, along with the peasantry, seen as beautiful yet polite people. What a fucking joke. Jungkook saw through their facade, much like everyone else the Seo’s were desperate for more power. Becoming part of the royal family would provide that in unprecedented amounts.

“To what do I owe the pressure of having the Kangjoon in my bedroom unannounced? Hoping for a repeat of that night?” Jungkook smirked, seeing Kangjoon visibly tense. The prairie’s golden boy had too much to drink during his bachelor’s night and Jungkook was there to witness his true depravity. Kangjoon shook his head, “Would you have accepted my requests to see you had I done so officially, your highness?” It annoyed the prince to no end how Seo refused to play along. Kangjoon wasn’t as smart as Soojin, not by any means, but it was his sex that determined he be the heir. Even if Soojin was destined to rule. Though Kangjoon’s intelligence lay in his practicality - which is why he always refused to engage in mind games with the prince. He knew he’d lose.

“I am here to warn you.” Oh? "I have a meeting with the king to discuss your marriage with my cousin. We don't wish to force the hand of a future family member, but given the recent developments, we are quite embarrassed. I hope you understand." Kangjoon bowed deeply, excusing himself before heading towards the King's corridors. Jungkook gazed out towards his spot, his hand lashed out gripping the canopy of his bed and in one swift move, it crushed in his hand. It almost landed on his snake had Morte not had fast reflexes. Jungkook left the room searching for his beloved fiance.

Soojin had never looked worse. The purple welts around her neck were too small and thin to have been caused by human hands leading Jungkook to assume it had been Vito who’d done the damage and not YN. Still, Soojin’s usually perfect hair was a tangled mess that darted in every direction and her almond eyes were puffy and red around the edges. The second she saw Jungkook she let him know who was to blame, “She did this to me.” Jungkook didn’t answer simply kissing her forehead gently, Soojin leaned into his embrace. Soojin places her head in the crook of the prince’s neck closing her eyes. Her neck ached painfully, but she had refused any more medication not wanting to see the pitying look of the palace’s healer.

“Your cousin is here to speak to my father about our wedding.”

Soojin stills, raising her head cautiously. She recognizes the edge in Jungkook’s tone. “I’m sorry. It isn’t him, but my mother who insists we be wed. I told her about the king, but-”

“Shush.” Jungkook smiled tenderly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Soojin frowned, confused by his words, Jungkook hated being told what to do. Undermining him to go see his father would have definite consequences. “In fact, I think they’re right.” Soojin pulled away from Jungkook, needing space to properly comprehend what he was saying.

Jungkook smiles, dimples on show, “Let’s get married.”

YN had been walking for hours, it had been evening when YN had escaped but something told her it was nearing dawn. The corridors were cold and damp, unlike the rest of the palace they looked incredibly old. A testament to its legacy. The cold had been too much for Vito who was now nestled inside YN’s bosom, needing heat to survive. Being unable to properly see anything in front of her due to the darkness, it made her footing sloppy. So, when she stepped on a loose stone and twisted her ankle she went down with great force. “Fuck.” It was then that YN began to wonder if she would die inside the castle walls. Her body withering away until nothing, but a corpse remained. Would she join her brother? Or had her actions led to her having a reserved space in hell? YN was somewhat surprised Jungkook hadn’t found her yet but was also terrified that her thoughts seemed to always go to him.

It was as if she was under a spell. Though it was certain that Jungkook had found a way to bind Vito to her, she didn't want to focus on how she questioned if the prince had done the same thing to them. Before with Eun, she had not been herself. As if someone were coercing her into doing said things. YN trembled with fear if Jungkook could coerce her into murder then what else could he have her do?

“He’s a menace!”

Her head snapped left as she heard more yells and strange noises. YN pushed herself up from the ground with the little strength that remained and walked towards them. Soon enough, YN saw a light, getting closer; she saw what looked like a window peering into the room. Upon closer inspection, it was a mirror that looked into someone’s private office though who YN couldn’t decipher. Not until the figure emerged from the corner babbling to himself in an incoherent way that explained his state of mind. “Jungkook has been a murderer since the day he was born and will lead this kingdom to ruin if I don’t stop him!” YN’s hands flew up to her mouth to stop the gasp. YN had heard much about King Jeon the II growing up, the man was ferocious in the way only a Jeon could be. Still, he paled in comparison to Jeon the I, and that meant the war and social injustices that had long plagued the kingdom ended during his reign, or so it seemed.

YN couldn’t see all of him now, his back was towards her as the King faced a portrait hanging on the wall. Nonetheless, she could recognize the familiar slope of his shoulders and rigid posture as something his son had inherited. Yes, Jungkook was very much his father but managed to surpass him at a young age in just about every aspect. Even the love of his people. For that, it was said the king would always despise him but the real reason lay in the portrait he spoke to. No one knew much about the late Queen only that she was effortlessly beautiful and seeing her portrait YN couldn’t agree more. She held a softness to her that contrasted greatly with her husband and son, though if YN looked deeper she could see Jungkook had parts of her too.

Jeon muttered to himself once more and it dawned on YN that he was speaking to the portrait. "You're right my love. If I do it the people will turn against me, but if we blame the Kim girl…" YN's eyes widened, she stepped back, her back hitting the stone wall behind her. At that moment, Jeon freezes as if aware he's being watched. "Come out." The king speaks lowly, all the anguish has gone from his voice. In a split second, he draws a dagger from his clothes and sends it hurtling toward its target. But instead of the mirror, it is the door. YN doesn't waste the opportunity and flees once more.

"Mistress Eun was found dead last night. Similar attack to the one that occurred to the princess, Miss YN is nowhere to be found." Baekhyung announces loudly, his back bent at a ninety-degree angle to not offend the crown prince. Jungkooks nods, wiping his hands free of blood before returning to the book on his desk. Baekhyung grimaces slightly at the sight before him, knowing it’ll be him cleaning up the mess as the maids won’t go near the body. “Make sure to find her Baekhyung and bring her back to me.” Jungkook picks up the book leaning back in his chair, the title ‘Golden Ones’ had always drawn the guards attention but he knew to ponder any further would get him killed.

“What is the official story, your highness?”

Jungkook cast one final glance at Kangjoon’s corpse, it was a bloody mess with the heart ripped out and blood still oozing. The prince would have to replace his favorite carpet. “The king was so upset with having his hand forced about the Seo matter that he lost it and killed their last male heir. What a tragedy.” Baekhyung nods, before tilting his head towards Jinyoung who sighed under his breath and helped him carry the body out.

By the time YN had managed to escape dawn had broken and the sky was a pleasant mix of oranges, pinks, and purples all blended. Perhaps it had been the fact that YN had remained surrounded by darkness all night, that it had been so long since she had felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and the beauty of nature surrounding her that caused YN to stop. Vito was still asleep, YN felt exhaustion spread throughout her body. She began to sway from one side to the next and knew it wouldn’t be long until she collapsed. YN forced herself to continue forward, attempting to reach the edge of the forest before anyone caught her. The more distance she traveled the farther away the forest seemed. YN wasn’t sure if her perception was muddled or there was something else at play here.

It wouldn't matter anyway for the prince's guard hounds were on her tail. "You there! What do you think you're doing?!" YN let out a sigh of frustration. Every damn time. YN watched a large man with dark hair and thick eyebrows approach her, a bit of tension leaving her body when she realized he must have been a regular guard and not part of the knighthood. “I’m sorry, I was visiting my sister in the servant’s quarters when I got lost.” YN couldn’t think of anything more convincing but figured something complex wouldn’t work well in her case. The guard’s eyes narrowed, “As if I’m going to believe that. You look like a common whore, probably hoping to snag some nobleman, huh?”

The guard gripped her tightly pulling her close so that their bodies were touching. Almost instantaneously, the man fell to his knees back twisting painfully as he groaned out in pain. “I would refrain from touching what isn’t yours.” YN recognized the voice and turned around to see Jinyoung accompanied by another man dressed in similar attire. “The prince wouldn’t appreciate knowing some lowlife dirtied his favorite toy.” YN’s face scrunched up in disgust at Jinyoung’s words, she began to wonder whether she could escape the men but it seems they were onto her.

“Miss YN, the prince has been searching for you all night. He requests your presence.” The shorter one spoke, YN raised her eyebrow at him but he simply smiled. “Kim Baekhyung, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” YN ignored him, “You can tell the prince that I dissent his request.” Jinyoung smiled, “Ah, I forgot to mention the prince never did say we had to bring you back in one piece.”

“Oh, how you always manage to surprise me, darling.” Jungkook’s smug smile was far too large for YN’s liking. She’d been brought to his chambers against her will and judging from the glint in his eyes, he had something planned. “I’m happy to see you’ve taken a liking to Vito.” He eyed the snake draped across her décolletagle. YN crossed her arms over her chest as Vito slithered down her body towards Morte’s resting bed, desiring to be with the other snake. “Look their friends.” Jungkook seemed too enthusiastic to YN which was the exact opposite of what he normally was.

“Morte could eat him alive.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

Jungkook turned his attention back to YN, noticing the state of distress of her gown before his eyes crawled back to her. “So tell me,” Jungkook leaned back onto the settee tilting his head slightly. “How did you escape?” If Jungkook knew about YN’s discovery then she’d be screwed. Though YN was beginning to pierce through the enigma that was Jeon Jungkook, she could never be sure whether she had managed to evade his game or play right into it. “Your fiance tried to murder me.” Jungkook shrugged, “I expected as much. Lions are volatile creatures, hot-headed too, best not to mess with them.” YN rolled her eyes, “The only reason Soojin attacked me was because of you. Shouldn’t it be you facing the actions of your consequences?!”

“You would blame a man in love?”

YN scoffed, “This isn’t love, it’s nothing but a game to you.”

“You’re wrong. It’s a love game.” Jungkook smirked, enjoying intensely how YN’s brows furrowed in frustration.

“What did you call me in for, your highness?”

Jungkook stood up abruptly, YN's stepped back a few feet in trepidation, something that the twisted prince enjoyed. He lifts his hand and brushes YN's lower lip delicately, "I wanted to tell you to switch your m.o. Strangulation is far too noticeable. I'd hate for you to draw unwanted attention." Slowly he circled YN letting his hand trail above her torso. "It was an accident, I didn't want to hurt her." Jungkook chuckled, arms wrapping tightly around YN's waist. "Who, darling?" His lips brushed the long arch of her neck, his arms tightening every second that passed by. "Soojin or Eun? Which one was an accident?" YN cast her eyes downward focusing on the snakes noticing how Morte had wrapped around Vito and was embracing him, or was it the other way around?

"You made me do it." YN struggled to get the words out, all she could see was Eun's dead body. All she could remember was the feeling of wringing her throat out until nothing remained. Jungkook gripped her chin, "Did I make you do it? Or did I permit you?" When they kissed it was tender so opposed to how the prince usually was. Jungkook was holding her as if afraid she would break. The kiss immediately distracted YN and she couldn't help but give in to it, just to escape the darkness in her mind. That is until a bitter tang filled her mouth and went down her throat. YN pushed away from Jungkook, spitting out his blood from her mouth.

Jungkook smiles sadistically, his tongue swiping across his lips to clean any remnants of blood. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" YN screams wiping her mouth in utter disgust. The man in question rolls his eyes as if the answer was oh so obvious. "I love you that's what." YN knew it was never good to reveal a trump card as it may come in handy later on, but she would have given anything at that moment to knock Jeon Jungkook down a peg or two.

“Your father is plotting to murder you.”

Instantly, Jungkook's face crumbled, his eyes widening in shock as he numbly asked, "What?" He looked so much like a lost child and YN felt regret pool at her stomach until his expression changed to one of rage. In the blink of an eye, Jungkook stood in front of YN, hand wrapping tightly around her neck as he lifted her from the ground. "What did you say?" YN struggles against his hold, her hands clawing at his to get him to let go. The only did he did was place her back on the ground, but his clasp remained.

“I saw him speaking to a portrait of a woman. He was going on and one about how you were a murderer from a young age and a threat he had to put a stop to.”

The pupil had all but consumed the iris in Jungkook’s eyes allowing YN to see herself perfectly reflected in them. “I don’t fucking believe you,” Jungkook screamed though there was a hint of pain towards the end that YN latched onto. “I swear it’s the truth!” She searched her mind for anything, any detail, that could convince the distrustful man that what she was saying was the truth. YN was beginning to feel dizzy as if she could pass out at any second, finally, she remembered. “S-she had your eyes.” Jungkook’s eyes filled with unshed tears as he let go of YN, letting her crumble to the ground. YN wheezed as she tried to regain her lost breath, well aware of the glare the prince had fixed on her.

“And how exactly were you in the king’s private study?”

In her disoriented state, the words slipped right out. “I saw it through a mirror.”

A moment passed before Jungkook smiled once more, a small ‘Ah’ leaving his lips. “You found the corridors. That’s how you escaped.” He crouched down in front of YN, “Though I doubt you’re aware of all of them, so you must’ve stumbled upon the one behind the tapestry.” Jungkook reached out patting down YN’s frazzled hair and tugging one side of it behind her ear. “Don’t worry I’ll have it sealed soon enough.” YN shoves his hand away, climbing to her feet. “I should have never told you.” Jungkook nods, “If it weren’t for your kindness you might have had me off your hands.”

He went to continue speaking but suddenly paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Why did you tell me?”

“He was going to pin it on me.”

A pause, then. “You aren’t as selfless as you think you are.”

News traveled fast of the wedding meant to bind the Seo’s and Jeon’s, while Jungkook had yet to mention it to YN there were too many outside forces for him to be able to avoid going through with it. Something which caused her great satisfaction. Though it was a cloudy day, YN found she enjoyed being outside nonetheless. Sana was currently by her side enjoying how the king’s many hunting dogs pranced around the garden. They were in the balcony near the throne room, YN was once again dressed in the finest garbs money could buy - Sana having forced her into them.

“Don’t worry, Mistress. I’m sure everything will be fine.” Sana reached out, squeezing YN’s shoulder comfortingly.

YN had told Sana everything one night after having one too many cups of wine and being cared for by the maid during her bath. Sana had assured YN that as much as the prince desired to wed her, as long as she was a peasant it wouldn’t be allowed. She wasn’t too certain that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to find a loophole, but it pacified her nerves. Not to mention her prompt meeting with the king had caused more rumors to surround her. Even while she was certain it was just Sana and her, YN could feel eyes piercing through her.

“Miss Kim?”

YN turned around to see Baekhyung bowing before her, instantly YN knew something was wrong. “They’re ready for you.”

When YN stepped foot inside the room it was filled with nobility, hushed whispers of incredulity falling from their mouth. Sitting perched upon the throne with a crown resting upon his perfectly styled hair was the prince of everything, Jeon Jungkook himself. No. It can’t be. He wouldn’t have…

“Unfortunately, my father is ill and won’t be able to attend any of his royal duties today, so I shall do it in his place,” Jungkook announced to the crowd of people, the second he spoke a deadly silence weighed over the room. Whether it was out of fear or respect was yet to be deciphered. Jungkook fixed his stare on YN and she could swear the prince blinked at her, but it was to quick to tell. "As most of you are aware by now, Mistress Eun has suddenly passed due to her misuse of substances. This has caused her land and title to have been lost." Jungkook wasn't just speaking to YN, but everyone.

“Due to her lands needing to be tended for and properties managed, someone needs to step forward to claim.” His dark eyes fixed on YN, “I hereby name Miss YN Kim and her heir’s sole proprietor of Eun’s lands and assets. Thereby granting her the title of Lady.” YN stilled in fear, but aware of the eyes on her she bowed deeply. “Thank you, your royal highness.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Once again Jeon Jungkook had won.

“A Kim?!”

“The king must be really out of his mind.”

“Another Kim in court? Isn’t one enough?”

“Everyone knows the real reason she received them. Has she no shame?!”

“Lady Kim,” YN turned around to see the crown of someone’s head, the ashy blonde hair all too familiar. It’s him. The man who had found Eun’s body and helped her escape. But why? The man rose from his bow, YN being able to see the deadly look in his eye. “Lord Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” YN’s eyes widened, but Namjoon remained unaffected. Taking her hand into his and placing a small kiss over the knuckles. Though Jungkook was nowhere in sight, YN was certain she could feel him gauging her. If Jungkook knew it was Namjoon who aided her escape, heads would roll. Best to pretend then, it seems that is what Namjoon desired to do as well.

“Pleasure is mine, my lord. I was unaware there was another Kim in court.”

Namjoon smirked, “It’s not necessarily something the King would so openly acknowledge.” He tilted his head away from the crowd, signaling her to follow him. As they walked YN could hear more hushed gossip surrounding her, but most of it came from faceless individuals - no one of importance. “You’ve managed to cause quite a stir in your short time here, my lady.”

“It wasn’t my intention to do so.”

“Still I am not surprised, a woman as beautiful as yourself is bound to cause a ruckus anywhere.”

YN blushed, “You toy with me, my lord.”

Namjoon smirked, a wicked gleam in his eye that said he was. “I would never dare.”

They stopped moving and YN realized Namjoon had maneuvered her away from the crowd, still close enough that they were in the room, but too far away for anyone to hear what was being discussed. YN longed to know why he’d helped her but figured that it hadn’t been done altruistically. The young lord stepped forward, “If I were to be so bold as to offer a word of advice, my lady?” A chill went down YN’s spine and her hand tightened into a fist, wishing Vito was there with her. “You’ve been so bold already,” YN cast her eyes around the room seeing Sana standing by the door speaking to Jinyoung. Her brow furrowed as the two seemed to be in a heated discussion. “I don’t see what harm a bit more could do.” She turned back to Namjoon who seems to have followed her line of sight.

“Are you familiar with your family’s history?”

“I have no family.”

“You are a Kim are you not?”

“It is only a name.”

Namjoon chuckles, “Ah, but what’s in a name?” Once again the lord stepped closer, “May I recommend the story of Soo and So? I think you’ll find it quite an intriguing read.”

“As much as I’d like to, my lord, I own no such story or book. I’d doubt the king is stocked up on history books that do not relate to him.”

“Ah, that is true. What a shame indeed.”

Sana trailed behind her quietly, something YN found quite odd as the girl tended to be incredibly lively. Perhaps Sana pitied her given the circumstance, but that couldn’t be it. The girl had previously stated how much more she enjoyed being YN’s personal maid than having to run around the castle. Maybe she’s tired? Or maybe it had something to do with her conversation with Jinyoung - YN's guard dog. Before they reached the door leading to YN's bedroom Sana suddenly halted. "I'm sorry mistress, but if I could be excused? I'm not feeling all too well." YN was a bit shocked but nodded nonetheless. She was about to ask Sana if there was anything she could do to help, but the maid had already runoff.

YN sighed, unlocking the door to her bedroom. When she entered she noticed Vito was feasting on his latest meal, so YN shed her dress and headed straight for bed. Hoping to catch some sleep before dinner was delivered, her actions stopped when she noted the gift placed on her bed. It was nicely wrapped in fine silk with a ribbon on top, peeling back the layers YN found it was a book. When she opened it, a note fell out:

I could only find the abridged version, apologies - KNJ

YN’s hands ran through the spine and bold lettering at the front, the words ‘Golden Ones’ peering back at her in a metallic red.

Jeon Jungkook had just finished his bath when his peace was once again disturbed by the rasping of knuckles on his door. He groaned asking who it was as he imagined harming whoever deemed themselves important enough to intrude on his time. Imagine the surprise on the young prince’s face when none other than his lover appeared. “Well, to what do I owe this surprise?” YN stood hesitantly by the door consciously trying to convince herself not to back out of the plan. If he was annoyed at her silence he didn’t say anything instead Jungkook tilted his head and asked, “What game are you playing?”

YN stepped into the room, closing the door behind her careful not to turn around. Jungkook was like a predator - eye contact was essential for survival. YN’s eyes danced around the room not finding Morte anywhere in sight. “I’ve decided to not play any games. I know I’ll never beat you.”

Jungkook smirks, eyeing YN's figure up and down. "Well then, this may be the most fun game we've ever played."

YN ambled towards Jungkook, their eyes remaining on each other. Waiting for the moment the other faltered to strike.

“Where’s your pet, my lady?”

“In my bedroom, your highness. He is shedding.”

“Where’s Morte?”

“Where she needs to be.”

As they neared each other Jungkook took a seat at the edge of his bed, encouraging YN to join him. YN straddled Jungkook, trying to calm her racing heart from giving her away. “What am I to you?” Her eyes were wide and honest, as she asked. It had been foolish to think the answer would change.

“My Queen.”

It was the intensity of the prince’s stare that caused YN to look away, her eyes landed on a glass and gold chessboard. “I’ve never been a good player.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyes-rolling. “I doubt that’s true.” His warm breath fanned her neck causing goose-bumps to rise.

“Isn’t the king the most vulnerable of them all?”

Jungkook nods, letting his lips brush against hers trying to draw her attention back onto him. “Which is why he needs a powerful queen.”

YN chuckled, parting her lips and allowing the venom laced words to hit their target. “Good thing, Soojin will be your queen.”

The prince visibly tenses, his hand coming to grip YN’s waist tightly. He forces her to look at him as his eyes filled with a heady mix of lust and rage. “That’s a dangerous game you're playing, love.”

YN shrugs, “I’m not playing a game. I’m only trying to prove a point.”

“Oh?” Jungkook uses his grip on YN’s waist to push them closer together, leaving only centimeters between the star-crossed lovers.

“What you feel or think you feel is not love. It’s infatuation fueled by lust.” YN allowed her lips to brush Jungkook’s, though they never fully kissed. “I’m just a shiny new toy you want to play with until you get bored.”

"I will never tire of you YN, you can be certain of that." Jungkook's tongue swiped across his lips to moisten them. "Though if you are so certain, let's have a wager." Jungkook released his hold on her waist allowing YN to move away. Now that they stood feet apart, it felt as if this was a serious affair. "If what I feel for you is nothing more than infatuation, I promise to let you go." He lifted his palm as if taking an oath.

YN scoffed, “No. If I am right, then you will marry Soojin and make her your queen.” She wasn’t going to fall for his schemes any longer. Jungkook nodded, leaning back to rest on his elbows. When he failed to speak any further YN’s eyes narrowed, “Declare your wager.”

“I think I’ll save mine for later. Makes things more interesting don’t you agree?” Jungkook looked all too pleased with himself, the prince thought everything was under his control. But, just as YN often underestimated him, it seems he had now underestimated her. “So, what’s your big plan to prove your point?”

“Sleep with me.”

#yandere bts #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bangtanarmynet #ykn #prince of nothing iii #pon #pon iii #girlmeetsliv3

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macabretrees · 3 years

Text

(w.i.p)

Quinlan Vos takes one last thing from the Light with him as he embarks into the Dark.

Usually, Fox knew Quinlan was there before he even had to announce himself. His energy--Force, as Fox would come to know it later on--was contagenois, and even when Fox was at his worst, buried amongst work and self-loathing, Quinlan’s Force cheered him up.

He also considered Quinlan a personal achievement. If it weren't for his relationship with the Jedi, he would have never been able to disconnect the clones from the hive mind he believed they were...and to be honest it wasn’t his responsibility to do so, as countless Jedi and Clones had reminded him, but he considered it an achievement nonetheless.

And, at the end of the day, it paid off for a Jedi to trust the clones if he was to be a Jedi general.

Though today, when the Clone Commander chanced a look over his datapad in order to grab his tea mug, his eyes were immediately drawn to the tall, dark spectre standing in the doorway. He jolted, a hand immediately reaching for his blaster against his hip. He hadn’t even noticed him.

It was only when he registered the dread locs and that familiar golden streak did he realize it was Quinlan staring at him. There was something off about him, and immediately Fox took note of the absence of beige robes, forgone for black ones. He was dressed, from head to toe, in darkness.

“Quinlan, is everything alright?” Gone was the playful banter and feigned annoyance he usually mustered when the Jedi would interrupt him from his work. Gone was Quinlan’s mock hurt and humor. Standing now, in the doorway, was a void of the man he’d grown to know and cherish. Said void sucked out the joy and mirth that had accompanied their relations, and instead had left Fox feeling antsy and fearful.

His hand gently trached his blaster.

Still, the man smiled as he caught Fox’s eye, and grinned even wider when he spoke.

“Hey Foxy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The use of his pet name was almost an insult, like it was being spoken by someone who had no right to be using it.

“Well you look like one, dressed in black and all.” His fingers slipped away from the blaster, though he remained tense nonetheless. Something wasn’t right.

“Oh, about that...I’ll explain it later.” He looked around, casting a look over his shoulder, “but now, we need to go.”

“Go where? Out to lunch? I don’t get off until--”

He stopped him with a raised hand, such action immediately causing Fox alarm. He never cut him off, at least...not when they were together.

“We’re not going out to lunch, Fox. We’re leaving the Republic.”

As if the new wardrobe and sudden rudeness didn’t say that something was off, this did.

Quinlan had known that certain things about Fox were off limits. Treason was one of them. Quinlan had taken the time to understand just how deeply Fox’s programming and loyalty to the Republic had gone, and they had gotten into many debates about it. But in the past, Quinlan had let the subject go when he’d known how much it had bothered Fox, and had been uncharacteristically quiet when Fox had returned from killing Fives.

He knew what entertaining treason with Fox of all people meant.

“Quinlan, you know I can’t do that. You know I won’t do that.” His breathing grew ragged, and he fought the urge to call in for backup.

“Why not? This war? The Republic, what have they done for you? You loved to tell me about your brother’s treatment by the Republic when we started seeing each other, now I’m giving you a way out. And a way to help your brothers.”

“A way out? A way to help my brothers? What do you mean..”

“I’m talking about the Sepretaist, Fox.”

Fox would not kill him. He would never kill him. Would never hurt him. But Commander Fox, CC-1010, he was another story. And he often moved on autopilot when Fox battled with his morals.

“You’re talking about defecting. You’re talking about treason.” Fingers at his side again, Fox drew his blaster slowly above the table, “Treason won’t help me, it won’t help my brothers--”

“It won’t help your brothers?” He practically mocked Fox with his retort, “Your brothers who don’t even care about you, Fox. Your brothers who stopped caring about you after you killed Fives. For what? The Republic? If you don’t want to leave for your brothers, then that’s fine. But what the hell has the Republic done for you?”

He was digging into a wound they’d both closed together, a wound Fox had expected and trusted Quinlan never, ever to open again. But here he was, exposing his fears and regrets before them all, words ringing loud into the hallway behind him. Such words cut so deep that even the Commander part of him faltered. He was left bare, and the agony was clear as day in his face.

He wanted Quinlan to stop. He wanted him to be quiet, he wanted him gone.

His gun was set to stun--and with a careful aim-

Quinlan was upon him in a moment, saber blood red slicing through the metal of the blaster.

“I”m sorry, Foxy.” He said, gently. And for the first time in their conversation, Quinlan sounded sincere, his voice full of remorse, “I didn’t mean to...I didn’t want to say those things. I just wanted you to come with me.”

“You think I’d come with you after that?” His voice cracked, and he stared at his lover through hot tears.

Quinlan stayed silent for a moment, never looking away from Fox, never wavering. Fox felt absolutely violated underneath his gaze, and without a gun or weapon to defend himself, terrified. This was not Quinlan. It couldn’t be.

This was something completely different.

“I’m not really giving you a choice, Foxy.” And

#commander fox #quinlan vos #tcw #the confessions interlude powered me through this fic lmao

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Safe in the Dark

Just the tiniest of drabbles because the image was in my mind.

CW: Trauma response, references to institutional violence, scarring, guilt/self-loathing thoughts, not much here to warn for but if you see something that needs tagged that I didn’t mention let me know

Tagging Chris’s crew: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly , @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions and @oofowouchies and @orphceus for Antoni (it wouldn’t let me tag your other blog but you requested to be added!)

Takes place simultaneously to the Safehouse Raid, so you’ll want to read the first piece of that series to have context for this

The darkness around them is total, with a soft weight like velvet against Antoni’s skin, pressing from all sides, as he and Leila make their way with bare feet moving soundless against the slightly damp stone.

Who made this tunnel, nobody seems to know, exactly. Nat told them it was here when she bought the house, used to be used to people in the 70′s to do the same thing that Antoni and Leila are doing now.

How many people have crept through this space, holding hands like he and Leila are, gripped tight with cold fingers and clammy palms, unwilling to let go? How many? A handful? Two dozen? A hundred?

The silence is so deep that their breathing seems to echo off the walls. Even adjusted to the dark he can’t see Leila, only feel her leading the way. She is the one who keeps them moving, because Antoni would go back, if she let go. So she never lets him go.

“Chris is still back there,” He whispers, and the sound is like a shout muffled, a cry swallowed by the stone.

There’s a dripping sound, somewhere, ahead or behind he can’t tell. Water condensing in the coolness and running down to the ground. He can feel the damp under his feet as he walks, slippery. Never run in the tunnel, Nat told them when they did their safety drills. Walk quickly, but don’t run.

“I know,” Leila replies, and her voice is flat and featureless. He can’t see her but he knows, anyway, what he could see if there was any light - her short black hair chopped close to her chin, the pale of her skin, the way her eyes would be narrowed and her jaw set in her determined stubbornness. “He didn’t move fast enough.”

Antoni is silent, as they move like specters under the houses of Nat’s neighbors, under streets, a faint rumble of cars above their heads. This tunnel was here before the city came out this far and the houses and lives lived above them came after it.

What was there, in the time when they made this, to run from? Antoni doesn’t know. Maybe he never knew, or maybe it’s part of what he lost when they took his mind and wiped it clean, started over.

“They will hurt him,” Antoni tries again, and her hand only tightens its grip.

“I know,” She says again.

“He must be so frightened, Leila-”

“Antoni.” Her voice is sharp. It cuts through the velvet dark like the flash of light off a knife. “Stop it.”

Antoni feels his composure cracking, the sudden flare of a thousand burns under his clothes. One more sin he can’t atone for, one more betrayal he cannot fix, one more one more one more one more-

“I can’t just leave him there-”

Leila’s hand rips from his and just as suddenly her palms are pressed to either side of his face, pulling his head down close to hers, until their foreheads are touching. He still can’t see her, nothing but the faintest glimmer of her eyes. He wonders if they are as full of tears as his.

“If they take him, there’s nothing we can do,” Leila says, voice fierce and hoarse, thick with rage and grief. “If you were there, they’d take you, too, send you back, we’d lose you. Sometimes-...” She was quiet, and he could hear her breathing, harsh exhales, deep inhales. “Sometimes you lose people, Ant. That’s just how it is.”

“I-I... I can’t accept that. Not for him-... he’s so young, he needs us so much, and what he’ll... what he’ll be sent back to, Leila, you haven’t seen his nightmares-”

“I have nightmares, too! So do you! So do all of us!”

“Not... not like this, not like his, you do not hear what he says in his sleep-”

“Then fucking go back if you want to! Go on! Get caught and go back to your owner but I am never going back to mine! I don’t care who I lose, I don’t care who might have to get left!” Leila loses her careful control, her voice rises to a wail, bouncing back at them off the stone, and Antoni flinches away from the sudden volume.

“Leila-”

“We have to get to the bus stop. We have to. Nine will be waiting for us, Nat said, she promised. And Chris is a good hider, maybe he’ll... maybe he’ll be okay. Jake is there, right? Jake would-... would do anything for him.”

“If they take him back, Jake would not go with him, Leila, but if I were there I could... I could go, and we could be together until we were r-refurbished- I could help him know he would not be alone when they erase him-”

Her hand presses to his mouth, forces him to stop speaking, as she gasps in a breath. “Don’t ever say that, Ant, don’t you dare! He won’t get wiped!”

“You know they’ll wipe him, Leila! If they take us back, we get erased again!”

“It’s-... it’s a numbers game,” Leila whispers, repeating something they’ve all heard Nat saying before, murmuring to herself, a reminder every time there’s some news story about someone so happy to reclaim a stray pet, another safe place or shelter lost... “It’s a numbers game. One going back is better than two Maximize the good, minimize the bad. Now come the fuck on.”

She drops her hand and grabs him by the arm, dragging him forward with her down the tunnel, walking now with a determined speed and no attempt to stay silent.

“L-Leila-”

“Listen to me.” She doesn’t stop walking and her nails dig into his arm through his shirt, unknowingly pressing sharp edges into burn scars, lighting them up all over again. “I am going to get you to Nine. We are going to keep walking, here where we’re safe, and if Chris gets put back then I’m sorry, but I can’t help him now, I can only help you.”

“He’ll be so scared-”

“So are we! We’re scared, too!” She jerks his arm and Antoni stumbles forwards. There’s a hint of a slightly lighter enveloping black, maybe even a gray - they might be getting closer to the end of the tunnel, to where they can come up in a small city maintenance shed using a loose few boards in the floor and find the bus stop where Nine should already be idling in his car, waiting and waiting for them, hoping they moved faster than the men and women who pursue them.

“Without us-”

“Jake will hide him,” Leila says firmly. “He knows all the dark places, and Chris knows as well as any of us that he’s only safe in the dark.”

“What?”

She sighs. “Antoni, I don’t think they ever meant to, but... they taught us that the dark is the safest place for us. It's in the light that we die. It’s in the light they can take us and wipe us clean and rebuild. If Jake can get Chris into a dark place, he’ll know not to leave it.”

“And if he can’t? If he cannot get him to the dark places to hide?”

Another pause. It draws and draws and draws and now Antoni can definitely begin to see the outline of Leila ahead of him, the slightest hint of light at the end of the tunnel awaiting them. The air smells cleaner, fresher now. They’re getting closer.

He hasn’t heard anyone behind them. They haven’t found the secret door, or they don’t know what it is, or maybe... or maybe they’re just even quieter than the two rescues and someone will reach out and grab him at any moment, and he’ll hear a low soft voice with an English accent whisper in his ear, hello, love, aren’t you happy to see me?

“Then Chris goes back to the light,” Leila says, and her voice is hard. Uncaring, even as Antoni can hear the lie. “And we don’t. He’s gone and we’re not and that’s all there is to it.”

Nine is waiting for them in a nondescript beige-gray-nothing-color four-door at the bus stop, just like Nat promised. Leila slides into the front seat and Antoni collapses across the back, his chest a twisting mass of guilt that curls inside him, heavy as stone, weighing him down as he curls up on his side.

“I thought there would be three of you,” Nine says, glancing over his shoulder in the direction they’d come from. “Yoder said to expect three.”

“Only two,” Leila answers, crossing her arms across her chest and sitting back against the seat. “The other one didn’t make it.”

The other one.

“Already, we stop using his name?” Antoni closes his eyes against the rush of guilt and tears.

Chris is going to be gone, again, all the identity he’d built stolen, erased back to factory standards. And it will be Antoni who left him to the death that comes with going back to the white walls, white lights, white floor.

Nine clears his throat. “Are you... are you sure I shouldn’t wait a few more minutes, just in case-”

“Don’t wait.” Leila doesn’t look back at Antoni, and she doesn’t look back the way they came. Leila never looks back at all. “The third one isn’t coming. Just drive. Jake will do what he can.”

Antoni has never felt so small, so mean, so... worthless. “I-I could have-”

“No, you couldn’t. You’d just get thrown back in there, too. Better two saved than two refurbished.”

“I’m... I’m sorry,” Nine says softly as he pulls away. “I know what it means to lose someone.”

Do you, Antoni wonders. Do you even have fucking clue?

If Chris did make it into the tunnel, he’d only come out to nothing and no one waiting to help him, because... because Antoni is a coward.

Because Antoni ran and didn’t stay.

Because he saved himself and left someone else to suffer.

Again.

“I will go back tomorrow,” He whispers. “I am going. You cannot stop me.”

“He’ll be gone.” Leila keeps her eyes on the road ahead, but he can see the set of her jaw, the curve of it. Stubbornness, determination. Strength Antoni could never hope to possess. “You know he won’t be there. They’ll take him. You can go back if you want, but Chris won’t be there.”

“I do not care. I will go back for him, even-... even if there is no him to find.”

She snorts. “Have it your way.”

Then, a pause, and she says, a little more softly. “I’m... I’m sorry, Antoni. I know I’m... I know-... I could be softer, but-”

“Not everyone is made for soft,” Antoni murmurs, and though he can’t see her answering hint of a smile, he can feel it.

“If I think about it I’ll lose my fucking mind,” She says, softly. “I have to focus on who I can save, and not who I can’t. You know?”

He can understand. Even if he still feels like as much the monster as any of the ones who had been knocking the door off the hinges when he and Leila stopped waiting and ran.

Silence, other than the low hum of the radio, public news station reporting a story about some kind of law passed about taxes.

After the awkward, tense silence has dragged on and on and on, Nine clears his throat again.

“Hey, uh... what’s your name?”

“Antoni.” Coward. Piece of shit. Ashtray. Whatever you want it to be.

“Great. Yeah, okay. Uh... look. I’ll drive you back here tomorrow. You can take the tunnel back in to check and see if the, uh, the third one is in the house still. Okay?”

Antoni swallows and nods, curling into himself. His skin is on fire, he can feel every burn all at once, lit up like tiny suns digging deeper and deeper beneath the layers, searching for nerves and bone and muscle and vein to damage and destroy.

“"It’s not a problem.”

“But-”

“It’s not a problem,” Nine repeats, making a left, calming checking his mirrors, driving with absolute caution borne from a need to never ever have his fake ID checked. “You can go back and see if your guy is still there, yeah? Did you have to leave, like... your partner, your-.. your, uh... your bonded? Or-”

“He is not my bonded,” Antoni says, softly. “I will go back for him anyway.”

Please, if there is anything but hell left here on earth, let him still be Chris.

138 notes · View notes

actuallylorelaigilmore · 3 years

Text

TATMILB, CHAPTER 4

Penelope spent her life writing love letters, which didn’t seem like a terrible idea until the letters were mailed out and Schneider received one of them. Hoping to fool their exes, they agree to fake a relationship. But are they lying to everyone around them, or to themselves? aka my To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before-inspired AU.

Penelope x Schneider, ODAAT. available on ao3 with extra author’s notes.

Chapter 4: Ben comes to Penelope’s door bearing a letter. Penelope explains the situation to Schneider over ice cream. She scoffs at his proposal but can’t wave it away so easily once she’s alone with her thoughts.

Dear Ben,

It’s been a really long time since I felt the way I did when I was with you--I know talking about it makes me sound like a giddy teenager.

But in so many ways, that’s how you made me feel. I was full of lighthearted happiness, hormones and that need to know everything about somebody that only happens at the beginning of a relationship.

The story of how we met sounds like a movie: I poured my heart out to you, thinking you were gay and couldn’t possibly be interested in me, and you turned the tables by asking me out. A night full of self-loathing and guilt led to a moment where I felt really attractive. And considering how hard life had been lately, especially in the romance department, it meant a lot that you looked at me in my emotional half-drunk state and saw someone worth getting to know.

All of that makes how we ended worse. I’m sorry for what happened with Victor, for how easily and how quickly I became a cliche--the ex-wife who takes back her apologetic husband, who believes and trusts when she shouldn’t...who gives up a good man for a familiar one.

We had fun while it lasted, didn’t we? It’s the what-ifs that haunt me now. The possibilities. Maybe you would have gotten along well with my family, when it was time for you to meet them. Maybe you would have been a good husband someday.

I know I don’t have the right to hold on to you, to the idea of us, when there was barely an us in the first place. Some nights, though, I pull out that mental picture and let myself live inside for it a little while. I still feel happy there. I wonder if you do, too.

Love, Penelope

****

“Ben!”

Penelope steadied herself by gripping Schneider’s arm, which also helped to steady him as they wobbled in the doorway after their near-collision.

She saw the letter Ben was holding, on yellow paper she remembered too well, and offered him an overly-bright smile, aiming it like a shield. “We’re actually just on our way out. Gotta go get dessert for the family before there’s chaos, y’know?”

Her laugh was as forced as her smile, but she ignored the look Schneider gave her and hoped Ben would buy it. He didn’t know her nearly as well; not everyone had Schneider’s keen eye for her tells.

“This is Schneider,” she added, shutting the door behind the two of them. She kept her grip on his arm, pulling him past Ben.

“Yeah, hi,” Schneider said, with a facial expression that could best be described as ‘trying to do calculus in his head.’ Great, Penelope thought, now she would have even more to explain to him once they made it free of the building. And Ben.

“Listen, I don’t want to hold you up,” her ex said, lifting the letter to her eyeline. “I just wanted you to know that I got it, but that I’m actually--well, I’m engaged now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s amazing! Congratulations,” she said, shaking his hand and trying to hurry along as though that would be the end of that.

“Penelope.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I really enjoyed the time we spent together too. And I did think about you--about us. For a while. That was such a long time ago, though, and where my life is at these days...I’m really happy. I hope you will be soon.”

The hint of pity she detected got her attitude up, but if she made a scene it might bring the family out into the hall, which was the last thing she needed to add to this insanity. She exhaled through her clenched teeth instead.

“Thanks Ben, I appreciate that. I’m glad things are going well for you.”

“Anyway, I wanted to give you this back. It doesn’t feel right keeping it, while I’m planning my wedding to somebody else.”

“Alright. We really gotta go, but I hope the wedding goes great and it doesn’t rain. Best of luck to you both!” she half-shouted as she sped down the stairwell, not bothering to look behind her. Schneider would catch up, and she needed Ben to stop treating her like a crazy woman who was still nursing a crush on him years after they went on a handful of dates.

Not that her behavior in the hall was likely to make her seem more sane.

Her cheeks were burning as she exited the building, and she wished the air outside were cool enough to settle her racing heart. There was no denying it now--all of her letters must have been sent, every single mortifying one of them. Her innermost thoughts and feelings, directed at men who were never supposed to read them. This was beyond terrible. This was a catastrophe. This was--

“Pen! Wait up!” Schneider let the exit door slam shut behind him, making short work of the distance between them on the way to her car. “You know, I can’t go with you to get ice cream if you leave without me.”

“I know. Sorry.”

The scoop shop was only a five minute drive from their building, but it was a deeply uncomfortable five minutes, with Schneider watching her from the passenger seat and Penelope stuck on the image of Ben and his pretty, sympathetic face handing her back old dreams on paper.

She hoped he really was blissfully happy with his new fiancée. She hoped they had a long and happy marriage.

She hoped she never had to see him again.

****

Schneider managed to hold back as they waited in line at the shop, but he was restless next to her, filled with anxiety and questions. Penelope wasn't exactly in a hurry to explain; her nerves mirrored his.

“Let’s just order ours, okay?” She said before they approached the counter. “We can talk while we eat it, then get the rest to go after.”

Schneider nodded. “Sure. Whatever you want.” He ordered an oversized monstrosity, filled with a jumble of flavors and toppings that Penelope eyed with suspicion.

She got cherry gelato and frowned when he paid for them both, but didn’t bother arguing. She was the one who caused this whole mess--there wasn’t much point to starting a fight on top of it.

Schneider sat down across a corner table from her and made no move to touch his dessert. “Listen, Penelope, I’ve tried not to push. I kept quiet through dinner, I didn’t corner you in a moving vehicle, but I’m kinda out of patience now. What was that back there?”

“At...the hospital?”

It was stupid to try and buy herself more time. She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous to talk to him--this was Schneider. He always understood even her craziest moments. Yet there she was, still stalling. Keep on digging that hole, Penelope.

“Yes, at the hospital, when you kissed me!” The last part came out louder than he’d intended, and Schneider looked around like they might be under surveillance, before continuing.

“What was that about?” he pressed. “I thought that I was pretty clear about where I stood, and then you kissed me anyway. No means no, Penelope!”

“Yes...you’re right.”

When he put it like that, she felt even worse than just embarrassed. If she found out Alex was going around kissing girls who told him they weren’t interested, she would be so pissed at him. She would read him the riot act. What could she possibly say to defend herself to the one man who understood that better than anybody-- who knew her behavior totally contradicted what she believed in?

“Sorry.” She watched her gelato melting in its little cup, swirling it with her spoon. “You’re right, there’s no excuse.”

“I don’t want an excuse--though the apology’s appreciated. I want an explanation. It doesn’t make any sense, what you did. And you always make sense. Come on, talk to me.”

“I don’t have a good explanation.” She sighed, trying her gelato before it was completely liquid. It didn’t taste as good as it would on a day when her life wasn’t unraveling. “It was out of character. No argument there. It just sort of happened.”

“But why?”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she warned him, resigned to the fact that she couldn’t avoid this forever. He practically lived in their pockets--she couldn’t avoid him in general.

“You just made out with me,” he shot back. “I already know you’re crazy.”

“It was one kiss! I did not make out with you.” She dug into her gelato more emphatically, letting him sit with his own melting dish for a minute, almost as annoyed at Schneider as she was at herself for ending up here.

“That letter that you got from me, it wasn’t the only one I wrote.”

“Okay.” He blinked, taking that in. “You’re in love with people besides me?”

“I’m not in love with anybody, you dope. And I didn’t send you that letter.”

“I’m confused.”

“I write letters. I always have. To process stuff, get my thoughts out. I didn’t have therapy, you know, before the last few years. And between my mom, and the Army, and Victor...I had a lot of stuff to deal with. I’ve never been a diary person, but when things got really intense, I would write...”

“Love letters.”

“Yeah.”

He nodded as he dug into his ice cream, listening intently now. Schneider was good at that, even when he was visibly baffled--like he seemed now.

“I used to write other letters too, when I was a kid, letters to my parents when I was upset or frustrated with them. But I never held on to those ones--I had this feeling that no matter how well I hid them, Mami would find them, so I always trashed those. It helped enough, writing them.”

“When it comes to Lydia, I think your paranoia was probably well-founded.”

There was a hint of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth now, fondness not just for her mom but for Penelope. The wave of relief that flooded her settled some of her anxiety. Kissing him had been dumb and desperate, but she didn’t want it to ruin their friendship.

One kiss couldn’t do that, right?

He pointed his spoon at her gelato, a silent request. She nodded, passing him her spoon for a taste. She hadn’t really been in the mood for ice cream to begin with; she’d just wanted a place away from home for this confession.

“So, yeah, I write letters sometimes. Not all that often, because I was with Victor for most of my life. There haven’t been that many guys. But when I needed to put those feelings somewhere, I wrote them down and tucked them in my favorite duffel.”

She took her spoon back and gestured with it. “Over the years, I wrote five letters, including yours. And somehow they disappeared along with my duffel bag. The letters got sent out. I realized it when I saw you and Max.”

“And Ben,” Schneider added, putting the pieces together. “So, if that makes three, is the fourth Victor?”

“Oh, god.” She knew, of course she knew, exactly who she’d written her letters to. But she was so busy fighting the initial panic, she hadn’t thought about Victor yet. “Yes, I wrote to Victor. A couple of times. Ay dios mío, I hope that one gets shredded in the mail. I cannot deal with that right now.”

Schneider was lost in thought for a while, long enough that she took her cup to the trash. “Who’s the last one?” he asked when she sat back down.

“Huh?”

“I’ve known you since you and Victor separated. After Victor, there was Ben, then Max, then I guess you wrote my letter, since it was after Lydia’s hospital stay. I can’t think of anybody else you dated. Did you have a secret lover?”

He looked intrigued by the possibility. She swatted him lightly on the arm. “Don’t be so dramatic. You sound like my mom. The other letter was my first big crush, back in high school, a boy named Joe.”

She reached for his spoon and Schneider let her, bemused. He knew she usually hated his topping combinations. She just needed a second to gather her nerve again.

“I really am sorry,” she tried to explain, more carefully this time. “For kissing you like that. And for you ever seeing that letter. I was busy trying to figure out how it was possible, and then I saw Max coming, with a letter in his hand too, and I knew what it had to mean. I haven’t spoken to him since we broke up, my head was reeling--I couldn’t imagine explaining to him why he was getting a love letter from me a year later. I panicked.”

Risking a look at him before pinning her gaze back to the table, she continued. “It hit me that if he saw us kiss, he might assume we were a couple and be thrown off enough that I would have time to regroup. We could pretend the letters never happened.”

Schneider’s face was unreadable now. When she gave his spoon back, he didn’t go back to eating, just kept watching her.

“It’s not logical, I get that, but like I said, I panicked. And I know it was wrong of me to pull you into this, but I really would like to pretend the letters never happened, if we could. Especially yours.”

“Yeah?”

She ran the risk of offending him--she was aware of that--but their friendship was too important for her not to fight for it. She couldn’t tell what Schneider was thinking, though. That same perfectly blank expression stayed in place. At least he hadn’t left the shop yet, Penelope reminded herself. He was still giving her a chance.

“Yes. I was in a terrible place when I wrote your letter, Schneider. It was a few months after Mami’s stroke, after giving up Max had me convinced I’d lost my chance at love, and I was so lonely and scared and sad. About all of that.

“And there you were, so present and kind...and, well, loving. All the time. You were the one person I knew I could count on and we spent all those nights together. No matter how rough the day had been with the kids or at the hospital, you would find a way to make me laugh. Remember?”

“Of course.” His face was still guarded, but his voice had that comforting softness to it. That tone that meant he was ready to help. The voice of her best friend.

“I was vulnerable then, and I wrote it all down, because it had to go somewhere. It took me a while to step back from that place, to get back to feeling stable on my own even when you weren’t around. And once I had that distance, that balance back, I could see clearly again. I was never in love with you, not really. I mixed up how much I care about you as part of my family, as my best friend, with love. I mixed up how good you were to me with the idea that we would be good together.

“Once everything was okay again I felt like an idiot about it, and I was so glad I never said anything. I don’t want to lose you. And I never would’ve sent that letter as some attempt to awkwardly hit on you. I’m mortified to even be talking about it now. So, could we just move on? Like this was a weird day but we both agree it was a fluke and laugh it off?”

“Sure, sure, sure,” Schneider agreed, clearing his throat. “But what about the other letters?”

“What about them?”

“If Max’s letter is like mine, a love letter with no extra context, then are you going to have to do this all over again? Tell him you’re not still in love with him?”

“I-I don’t know. I’m really hoping it won’t come to that.”

“Because he saw us kiss and that’s a magic barrier to all future confrontation...or because you can’t honestly tell him that?”

He knew her too well, Penelope thought. And she’d had to share enough deep emotional truths for one day.

“Wow, look at the time,” she said, standing and nodding toward to the front counter. “If we don’t get the rest of the treats and head back, they’re gonna think we lied about the whole dessert run.”

She put in the requests that she knew her Mami and Alex would want and moved down to the other end of the counter. Schneider followed, clearing his throat again.

“What is it?”

“Speaking of lying, I just got a text from Nikki about our kiss.”

“What? How does Nikki know?”

“One of her friends saw us in the parking lot, I guess. Nikki’s super pissed.”

“Have fun with that.” She shook her head. “Luckily for me, I only have to see Nikki at school functions and some of Alex’s games. You’re the one who decided to hook up with her.”

“She’s pissed in a jealous way,” Schneider added thoughtfully.

“I’m shocked.”

“Hey, Pen. Hear me out: what if we kept up the lie for a while?”

“As in, the lie where I kissed you and you freaked out about it?”

“My freakout was in response to your freakout. Glass houses, Penelope. But yeah, the kissing. The public display of affection, emphasis on public. It got Nikki’s attention, and I wasn’t even trying to do that. If seeing me with you makes her realize she misses what we had, maybe we could stop this vicious cycle of breaking up all the time.”

“You want to pretend to be into each other just so you can get back with Nikki? Gross. No way I’m volunteering to be used for that.”

“Hey, you used me first--and I didn’t volunteer.”

An aproned employee passed her the sack of ice cream and Penelope walked out ahead of him.

“It would solve your problem too,” Schneider suggested. “Isn’t that why you kissed me in the first place, to make it seem like you were taken?”

“I was temporarily insane,” she insisted. “What’s your excuse?”

“I’m just saying we could both get what we want. Think about it,” Schneider added before mercifully dropping the subject as they made it home.

She ignored Schneider for the rest of the evening, as best she could, until he headed back to his own apartment. If her mom or Alex wondered what took them so long--or why they ate their dessert on the way--neither of them asked.

****

Penelope was in her bedroom, finally able to take a moment to decompress from the chaos of her life, before it occurred to her to check her phone. She fought so hard to keep Alex off his at the dinner table; it helped a little when she set a good example.

“Three missed calls,” she told her empty room, staring down at the name next to all three of them.

“Yep, and you didn’t pick up even once.”

The day had clearly been too much for her, if her imagination was so easily manifesting Max there next to her bed. She closed her eyes for a moment and reopened them, only to find the illusion of him still watching her.

“You can’t call a guy back anymore? Especially after you ditch him in a public place? That’s not like you, Penelope.”

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”

Okay, so she was hallucinating. Not a big deal. She was stressed out and had him on the brain, especially now.

“Got your letter,” Max said, smiling down at her where she sat. “Of course, you know that already. It’s why you’re avoiding me. How long do you think you can keep that up?”

“I have no idea. How long do you think you’ll keep trying to confront me with it?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m in your head--what do I know. If you want real answers, you should give me a call.”

“Can’t say I like that idea very much.”

“Yeah. If we talk, you’re going to have to answer my questions. Why did you send the letter, why did you write the letter, did you mean what you said.”

She swallowed hard, staring into Max’s warm eyes. What would she say, when she had to explain it all to him?

“Do you still...love me. That’s the million dollar follow up, right? That’s the one that counts.”

“I’m not ready to explain any of it,” she admitted. “I’m not ready to tell you how I feel. I’m not sure I know, myself.”

“Then you know what you have to do,” Schneider told her, popping up in the dark space where Max had been standing moments before. “Get your cover story on, chica.”

“God, don’t call me that. Don’t call anybody that.”

“All I’m saying is, you can’t avoid Max forever, right? There’s a solution staring you right in the face. What are best friends for, if not to act as a human wall between you and your relationship issues?”

Penelope frowned, trying to find a counterargument.

“Hey, if you’ve got a better idea, then go ahead...tell me no. A backup plan? Anything?”

“I’m thinking.”

“No, you’re stalling. And the clock is ticking on that strategy. But my plan, it can last as long as we need it to. Until you figure out what you want to do--with Max, Victor, all of them. We can be each other’s wingman and cover story at the same time, Pen. You help me, I help you...everybody wins.”

“Aaagh.” Penelope groaned, gripping hold of her hair for a second. When she lifted her head back up from her hands, she was alone in her room.

She didn’t know if Schneider’s idea was a brilliant one, or a terrible one. But at this point, it might be her best chance to save her sanity.

That was reason enough to consider it.

#alvareider #one day at a time #odaat #penelope x schneider #to all the men i've loved before #penelope alvarez #schneider #ben with the gay brother #max ferraro #alvareider fic #odaat fic #my fic

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waywardnerd67 · 4 years

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The Queen’s Court - Chap 19 Love Yourself

Summary: Two months after Demon!Dean had come to The Queen’s Court, the now cured Dean calls to apologize to (Y/N). She ends up leading him on a venture of loving himself. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Slight Angst/Fluff/Smut Word Count: 1273 Squared Filled: Selfcest: Realism Selfcest/Realistic Selfcest. This is your basic level of selfcest characterized basically by loving your own image or reflection. A/N #1: This is for @spnkinkbingo card A/N #2: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Check Out: The Queen’s Court Masterlist

(Y/N) looked down at her planner absentmindedly. Ever since her visit from Demon Dean, she had been on edge until Sam had called four weeks earlier to let her know they had Dean safely in the bunker. Four weeks since Dean had been cured of being a demon and still no call or text to her. She was not angry at him, but more concerned just needing to hear his voice. Picking up her cell she hit Sam’s name listening to it ring a couple of times.

“Hey (Y/N), how are you doing?” he asked as she could hear the familiar rumblings of Baby in the background.

Her chest ached slightly, “I’m okay. On a case… with Dean?”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke, “Yeah, we’re headed to Washington. Shouldn’t take us long though and will be back within the week.”

(Y/N) let out a sigh, “Well be careful. Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you let Dean know that I’m not mad at him. I just need to hear his voice and I miss him. I miss you as well.” She heard him chuckled softly.

“We miss you too. I’ll text you to let you know when we get to Washington.” Sam said goodbye ending the call.

Setting her phone back on her desk, (Y/N) let out the strangled breath trying to keep her emotions under control. Deciding to go home early, she slipped into her favorite comfy clothes that included an old t-shirt of Dean’s and a pair of boxer-briefs from Sam. Curling up in the fuzzy blanket Castiel had given her, (Y/N) turned on Netflix losing herself in her favorite Anime series.

The buzzing of her phone woke her up from her spot on the couch. Grabbing it she answered it not looking to see who it was, “‘ello.”

“Hey pretty girl.” The soft raspy voice sent an electric current throughout her body instantly clearing her foggy mind.

“Hi pretty boy, it’s good to hear your voice.” She curled her legs beneath her fidgeting with her blanket.

A few moments passed, neither of them saying anything, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I-I can’t imagine what you must think of me now… knowing that darkness is deep within me.”

“Dean stop right now,” she demanded, “Self-loathing is going to help you right now. I can feel it even through the phone and you shouldn’t feel that way.”

He scoffed, “Really? Because I think that monster who fucked you would say otherwise.”

(Y/N) got up from her spot walking into her room, “Dean are you alone?”

“Yeah, Sammy went to the local library to dig up some information. Why?” he asked.

Holding her cell between her cheek and shoulder, she moved the full body mirror to face her bed, “Do you have a full length mirror in your room?”

She smiled hearing him chuckle, “Uh yeah. (Y/N), what is going on?”

“I want you to drag a chair in front of that mirror and sit there looking at yourself.” She sat on her bed doing the same thing.

“Seriously?”

“Yes Dean, seriously.” (Y/N) sat with her legs crossed beneath her waiting for him to listen to her, “Dean?”

She could hear him dragging a chair across the floor, “I’m going, I’m going. Should I get naked for this?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Not for this, but if this goes well then you can.”

“Alright, I’m in front of the mirror. Now what?” He said letting out a small grunt as he sat down.

(Y/N) smiled, “Now I want you to look yourself in the eyes and list off ten non-physcial traits you love about yourself and ten physical traits you love about yourself.”

“(Y/N), I’m not into the whole self-love crap…” he began to say until she shushed him.

“Shhh… do it Winchester. I’ll make it worth your wild but if you stall then Sam will come back and sexy time will have to wait.” A low growl came from the other end making her laugh softly.

Dean sighed, “You drive a hard bargain but…” he paused for a moment.

“Ten non-physical traits I love about me. I love that I can focus on a task when it’s most important. I’m smart, not book smart like Sammy, but my mind can piece together things that shouldn’t be pieced together. I love that my mind can do that. I love my voice because it reminds me of my mom. I love that I’m a big softy. I love my dedication to the job...”

As (Y/N) listened to Dean continue she could not help the wide smile on her face. Hearing him say the things she saw in him as well made her heart swell.

“Finally, I love that I’m compassionate towards people who are in need.” Dean took a deep breath.

(Y/N) stared at the big smile reflecting in the mirror, “Dean that was truly the highlight of my day. Now, ten physical traits you love about yourself,” she bit her bottom lip as a slight flutter settled into her stomach.

“I love my soft hair. I love my strong shoulders.” His voice dropped lower as she heard rustling from his end, “I love my flat stomach without abs. I love my affectionately called ken doll lines.”

(Y/N) giggled hearing the familiar clinking of his belt coming undone. She found herself undressing as well.

Dean let out a small grunt from what she guessed was him removing his jeans, “I love my legs, strong and bowed. I love my rough hands.”

(Y/N) let out a small whimper trying to hold back from touching herself as Dean continued, “I love my lips. I love my green eyes. I love my ass.’

She chuckled, running her hand down her thigh, “One more pretty boy…”

“Saved the best for last. I love my… thick. Long. Cock.” Small grunts came in between each word.

“Are you stroking yourself right now?” she asked, allowing the tips of her fingers drift over her slick lips.

Dean groaned, “Are you rubbing yourself right now?”

“Mmhmm, Dean watch yourself. Watch how you give yourself pleasure. How you love yourself. Are you watching Dean?” (Y/N) began rubbing small circles against her clit watching her arousal coated her fingers.

He sighed deeply, “Yes… I’m w-watching. I love how my body flexes with each stroke of my cock.”

Her hand slipped further down until she pushed two fingers inside herself, “Yes… keeping going, Dean.”

“I love how my nipples perk to perfect peaks. Oh… I’m close…” he moaned.

(Y/N) could hear his hand jerking over himself, “Me too. Keep your eyes open and watch yourself come. Watch the love you give to yourself.”

His breath was rapid, “I love how thick I get right before coming. I love how my saks tense up close to me. Fuck, (Y/N)... I’m coming!”

Dean’s whimpers and grunts pushed her over the edge, “God, Dean!” she cried out feeling herself pulsating around her fingers.

“Jesus, (Y/N)... that was…” He was breathing heavily as was she.

“Now you know how I feel for you Dean. Don’t ever forget.” she whispered, not daring to say the words she wanted too.

The silence between them grew until Dean’s raspy voice rang through, “Thank you, pretty girl.”

(Y/N)’s body relaxed against her mattress, “You’re welcome, pretty boy. Now finish up with that case and come see me.”

“Yes ma’am. See you soon. Goodnight.” Dean ended the call as (Y/N) crawled under her blanket getting the first good night of sleep in months.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @dwgrl1903-blog @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @superromijn @witch-of-letters @time-travel-bouqet @screechingartisancashbailiff @myinconnelly1 @sister-winchesters99 @thekatherinewinchester @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @thefaithfulwriter @stoneyggirl @supernaturalginger @emoryhemsworth @wednesdayismyfunday @team-free-will-you-idjiot @atc74 @cosicas-cuquis @casseythebee

#spnkinkbingo #the queen's court #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut

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adamarks · 5 years

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Penny’s relationship troubles and how that relates to Simon and Baz

aka my Baz and Penny mirror post

I said I’d do this and god what a fucking emotional ride we’re about to go on. Strap in, my dudes.

In Carry On, it’s well-established that Penelope is Baz’s mirror character. She’s mostly static in the book (because it’s almost completely focused on Baz and Simon) and she’s used mainly as a literary device. Her mirroring Baz in particular is established very plainly. Both of them being top of the class; both of them geeking out over spells; both of them geeking out over marriage spells; their mothers both being headmasters; both of them getting out chalkboards and making the exact same types of lists. It’s very much in-your-face screaming in Carry On.

It’s not so obvious in Wayward Son.

The main reason for this is that Penny was upgraded from static to rounded in this book. She has an entire arc of doubting herself, which will most likely be completed in the next book. However, just because it’s not banging pots and pans in your face doesn’t mean the mirroring isn’t there.

Let’s dig in.

Rainbow did something I really, really loved with this book: she made sure we know that happy endings aren’t what we’re told. The story doesn’t end because the Prince and Princess kissed-- how did they hang on? How did they make it to the hundredth kiss? Did they even make it to the hundredth kiss?

This book tells us that sometimes they don’t make it to the hundredth kiss.

This lesson is what’s got a lot of people’s panties in a knot. Here’s the thing though: it’s not a bleak lesson; it’s a warning. It’s a reminder that we have to keep trying; we have to want that hundredth kiss.

Simon and Baz want that hundredth kiss. They just don’t know how to get there.

Wow guys I’m gonna have to struggle to not cry while writing this. Wish me luck.

Yes, the boys are morons that can’t communicate. How does Penny fit in?

She didn’t get to that hundredth kiss.

Micah and Penny are what happen when you just expect happily ever after to take care of getting you to the next kiss.

Micah declares what the lesson Penny (assumedly with Shepherd Tornado Chaser Supreme) is going to learn about relationships is in Chapter twelve:

“A relationship isn’t about the end. It’s about being together every step of the way.”

This may be Penny’s lesson, but this is also a sort of (in my opinion) apology from Rainbow. Because, what was Baz and Simon getting together if not just a nice little tie up as part of a happy ending. What are queer consumers of media usually fed? Our representation usually dies, breaks up, or ends up together all happy go lucky right at the end. We don’t get to see characters we relate to struggle. We don’t get to see them still be miserably in love but unsure how to make it work when shit gets rough.

Wayward Son is what happens when you don’t know how to keep going, but god do you want to.

“I told you that I thought we’d grown apart--”

“And I said that was natural!”

(also taken from Chapter 12 of Wayward)

Simon and Baz growing apart when Simon is so severely depressed and unable to communicate is natural. It’s natural, but it doesn’t mean that he’s going about it the right way. Simon is fucked up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but (and this is coming from someone that’s struggled with the same kinds of thoughts Simon’s suffering from) that’s no excuse for him to hurt Baz in the process.

Simon even realizes that this is a terrible way to go about this. It’s why he’s thinking about breaking up with Baz.

i almost cried typing that just now rainbow why simon why i’m dying i-

BREAKING UP WITH BAZ IS NOT THE ANSWER, SIMON!!

Simon needs to learn how to communicate. How to talk about what he’s feeling and what he needs.

Here’s the thing though: Baz does too.

This is where Penny’s mirroring comes into play. Micah and Penny apparently didn’t talk for two whole months and she didn’t notice. They didn’t talk. They didn’t communicate. This is what killed their relationship.

This is what’s killing Simon and Baz’s.

In Chapter Fifteen we see Simon mulling over Penny and Micah breaking up:

“Penelope and Micah were going to get married.

And now... Merlin, what now?”

I’ll come back to the concept of “endgames” throughout this series, but for now, apply that to Baz and Simon.

Baz and Simon were supposed to live happily ever after, but ever afters don’t work like that. So, now what?

Everything sucks. We are all in Pain. The dumbasses won’t talk. What do we DO, JAY?

god, what do we do. suffer i guess idk.

Okay but for real, we don’t have to worry. Rainbow knows what their issue is. And! She’ll make sure it’s resolved! How do I know?

Well, I’ll tell ya.

Shepard.

We were introduced to a brand new, absolutely batshit, completely delightful character in Wayward. He’s spunky, he’s fun, but what does he do best?

Fucking. Talk.

He doesn’t shut the fuck up!! He’s completely honest and he just talks. Bitch will tell you his entire life story without batting an eye! This is what Penny needs.

This is where Simon and Baz are going to end up.

Perhaps not exactly, that doesn’t suit their personalities. This is what they’ll end up being, though: completely honest with each other.

These fuckers are constantly thinking about each other throughout the book.

“Oh he’s so beautiful.” “Oh he’s so charming.” “Oh he’s so funny and smart.” “Oh he’s so heroic and brave.” “Oh, i’d give him my whole being.” “Oh I wish he’d let me in” “Oh I love him so much.” “I love him.”

They’d both feel so, so, so much better if they just said shit out loud. Good god.

But neither of them are a) in a place where they can say it and b) in a place where they’ll believe it.

This brings us to our next biggie:

Baz still doesn’t like himself.

Simon’s obviously having troubles with self loathing. That’s not even a question in anyone’s mind. Simon’s depression and lack of self worth is one of (if not the) main vocal points of the book.

The issue with Simon’s sadness getting the spotlight is that we overlook Baz’s a bit. It’s thrown in so that we don’t notice immediately, because we’re not supposed to. Baz’s self-hatred isn’t as loud as Simon’s and he’s been dealing with it a lot longer. It’s a self-loathing he’s learned to live with-- he��s used to it by now.

Sometimes the demons we learn to live with are the most vicious of all.

I think it’s very clever that the most overt time we see Baz disliking himself is in his Things I Hate List in Chapter Fourteen.

“11. The wind in my hair.

12. Convertible automobiles.

13. Myself, most of all.

14. My soft heart.

15. My foolish optimism.

16. The words “road” and “trip,” when said together with any enthusiasm.”

It’s slipped in there awful sneaky! You’re giggling and going “oh thank god maybe I won’t be sad through the whole book” then BANG! there it is. But, right after we have “my soft heart” and you’re going “oh my poor baby he’s so sweet I love him” before you really had time to process number 13 as anything aside from an “lol i’m hot and icky and i hate myself” joke.

Baz is used to hating himself. It’s everyday whatever. Simon’s is only louder because he’s not used to being allowed time to think about the bad stuff. Everyday before the end of Carry On for Simon was just struggling to get to the next day-- whether that was at Watford or a home. Simon’s happy when he doesn’t have to think; Baz can’t just not think.

Penny’s just learned what doubting herself entails; Baz has been doubting himself for the last decade.

No matter how much they coo at each other, it won’t fix the underlying issue: Baz and Simon don’t like themselves.

This is the main internal conflict of the series for all of the characters: loving yourself for what you are.

This brings us to Agatha.

If you haven’t read my meta on simon being a dragon hell yes then you might want to. I discuss Agatha being a mirror for Simon fairly thoroughly in it.

Remember how I told you to put a pin in the concept of “endgames” earlier? Well, here we are. Agatha was supposed to be the “endgame.”

Endgames! Are! Bullshit!

Human beings are not our consolation prizes for getting through shit. Becoming stronger as people and loving ourselves more is our prize. Realizing how much you can withstand, how hard you can fight, how amazing you are for surviving is your prize for getting through it.

None of these guys realize this yet. Agatha and Simon just think there’s nothing good that’s going to come out of their lives and Baz and Penelope just think that maybe their “prizes” weren’t what they thought they were.

Maybe the rewards for our efforts were really just inside us the whole time. uwu.

Penny is just starting to think of plans again by the end of the book, but this time they’re looser, wilder, even more hairbrained than before and she really only has one plan at best! She’s learning that she can be strong and capable even when she doesn’t have all the facts and doesn’t have all the details thought through. Penny’s learning to loosen up.

Baz is in a better place by the end of Wayward too. He’s learned so much about vampires and even himself. Like sure I fuckin’ hate Lamb but he helped Baz to realize that... maybe he isn’t a monster. Maybe magical creatures aren’t lesser. Maybe he’s not any less human just because he can drink their blood.

They’re the only two that really, really develop in this book. Simon and Agatha change but mostly stay the same mentality-wise. Agatha still thinks she’s doomed to be a damsel in distress and Simon still thinks he’s just The Boy That Was. Baz and Penny are the most dynamic characters in Wayward Son.

I’m putting my money on next book being Agatha and Simon’s big development book. And at this point I’m convinced it’s going to be more than a trilogy.

Now! Let’s talk about Agatha and Penny.

@stressedidiot pointed out to me that Penny and Agatha holding hands and burning shit down in the last scene was supposed to call back to Baz and Simon. They’re absolutely right. I think the most important thing that was calling back to was Simon giving Baz his magic in Carry On.

This parallel confused me at first: why would Rainbow need to remind us of that scene? I know I personally have the Ladybird and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star scenes permanently ingrained in my head forever. Obviously we didn’t forget that Simon could pour his magic.

Here’s the thing.

Baz and Simon don’t stay together during any of the fight scenes in this book. They always get separated or one of them gets hurt or they’re scrambling trying to find or catch the other one.

They’ve forgotten that they work best when they’re together.

That was one of the main takeaways from Carry On. Simon and Baz work best when they’re together.

“A relationship isn’t about the end. It’s about being together every step of the way.”

Every! Step! Of! The! Way!

This is where my dragon Simon theory really comes into play. If Simon does end up with some sort of dragonesque powers, somehow Baz and him are going to share it.

When Baz figures out how to drink from humans without killing them, Simon’s going to be right there, ready to open up a vein.

This is the true beauty of their relationship. Simon wants to be the one to lead the dance of kisses and intimacy and communication, and Baz wants to be there to give him anything he wants. Baz has received Simon’s magic; he’s gonna drink Simon’s blood; and he’s somehow going to receive something from Simon regarding this dragon business.

“I’d give him all that I am.

I’d give him all that I was.

I’d open up a vein.”

They give and take and equal measures. They love each other wholly. I’m gesturing to my computer screen out of stress right now. They literally love each other that much!

Agatha and Penny sharing a magic conduit at the end of Wayward Son is a reminder of what happened between Simon and Baz and also foreshadowing of where they’ll be again.

Imagine how powerful they’ll be once they remember how to work together.

They were practically unstoppable before when they worked together-- they turned back a dragon.

But now their love for each other is stronger than ever. It’ll only grow once they finally talk. Once they communicate.

Two people, so strong separately coming together with only love and understanding for each other.

With their hearts beating together, they could do more than turn back a dragon.

They could change the world.

check my meta about simon’s wings being The Gay

And also my one about the scarf

Thank you for reading this word vomit. Just wanted to tag a few people that might be interested in seeing this shitstorm of a meta:

@goodie-giving-gecko-gets-gatos @singerofsimplesongs @wisest-girl @watfordwallflower @slaying-fictional-dragons @carrybits

#simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #basilton pitch #penelope bunce #carry on #wayward son #wayward son spoilers #meta #agatha wellbelove #shepherd wayward son #i can't remember shepherd's last name #did they tell us?#rainbow rowell #snowbaz #dragon simon #Simon and Baz #baz and simon

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