#seriously though there are several books where it's been agonizing to not be able to find the text online

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

For the two super original frens who suggested we start with The Three Railway Engines... here you go! [RWS #1]

Pilot episode pilot episode pilot episode—

Objectively the very worst book that RWA ever offered. He was an amateur and it Shows. (And condensing the first two stories is surely one of Britt Allcroft’s top 10 editorial moves.)

I still like it, though. Why?

1) The Sad Story of Henry. “It makes no damn sense!… compels me, though.” And it gets worse every time Awdry tried to open his mouth and rationalize it! It wasn’t meant to be rationalized, and yet it’s so much fun to try and do so.

2) It’s also fun to try to get into the mindset of some rando in 1945, experiencing this universe for the first time. (You’d certainly never expect it to one day get as deep as it did! That’s for damn sure!)

3) Any fanfic writer has to get a confidence boost from this. Yup, this is the standard bar. Yeah, that thing. The one that’s on the floor. Here are your binoculars. C’mon. We can write at least as well as Rev. Awdry did when he was published, guys. We’ve got this!

4) Reading this in conjunction with Duke the Lost Engine is just mind-blowingly cool. They form a beautiful set of “bookends” to the series. (What about Tramway Engines, Jobes? Well, I like to compare/contrast that one with Thomas the Tank Engine, soooo… two sets of bookends. Rev. Awdry’s mind is a neat place to explore!)

Per Moon’s request, I’ll do Main Line Engines next, but I’ll put Duke in the queue after that so anyone who wants to can see for themselves. <3

purple text = just things i wanted to draw attention to, mostly details not in the TVS adaptation that have made me rethink various headcanons

strikethrough = i couldn't resist making editorial jokes

Also, pics only of the first page of each story. The illustrations are all available elsewhere.

EDWARD’S DAY OUT

ONCE upon a time there was a little engine called Edward. He lived in a Shed with five other engines. They were all bigger than Edward and boasted about it. “The Driver won’t choose you again,” they said. “He wants big, strong engines like us.” Edward had not been out for a long time; he began to feel sad.

Just then the Driver and Fireman came along to start work.

The Driver looked at Edward. “Why are you sad?” he asked. “Would you like to come out today?”

“Yes, please,” said Edward. So the Fireman lit the fire and made a nice lot of steam.

Then the Driver pulled the lever, and Edward puffed away.

“Peep, peep,” he whistled. “Look at me now.”

The others were very cross at being left behind.

Away went Edward to get some coaches. Because we weren't imagining it, guys — kinda looks to me like the No-Where Railway really did have a one engine in steam situation during this time. At least, it did at this depot. WTH. Locomotive crisis, indeed!

“Be careful, Edward,” said the coaches, “don’t bump and bang us like the other coaches do.” So Edward came up to the coaches, very, very gently, and the shunter fastened the coupling.

“Thank you, Edward,” said the coaches. “That was kind, we are glad you are taking us today.”

Then fortunately Rev. Awdry ran out of morals that he wanted to stuff into tonight's story, so they went to the station where the people were waiting.

“Peep, peep,” whistled Edward — “get in quickly, please.”

So the people got in quickly and Edward waited happily for the Guard to blow his whistle, and wave his green flag.

He waited and waited — there was no whistle, no green flag. “Peep, peep, peep, peep — where is that Guard?” Edward was getting anxious.

The Driver and Fireman asked the Stationmaster, “Have you seen the Guard?” “No,” he said. They asked the Porter, “Have you seen the Guard?” “Yes — last night,” said the Porter. I ship it.

Edward began to get cross. “Are we ever going to start?” he said.

“Just go! lmao,” shouted a boxy tank engine, several sidings over.

Just then a little boy shouted, “Here he comes!” and there the Guard was, running down the hill with his flags in one hand and a sandwich in the other.

He ran onto the platform, blew his whistle, and jumped into his van.

And that's it. That's all the suspense you are going to get during this story.

Edward puffed off. He did have a happy day. All the children ran to wave as he went past and he met old friends at all the stations. He worked so hard that the Driver promised to take him out again next day.

“I’m going out again tomorrow,” he told the other engines that night in the Shed, because, good Lord, this pre-Thomas version of Edward sure seems okay with stirring things up. “What do you think of that?”

But he didn’t hear what they thought, for he was so tired and happy that he fell asleep at once.

Power Move Rating: A+ 💯

EDWARD AND GORDON

ONE of the engines in Edward’s Shed yeah that’s right punks. it’s now Edward’s Shed now and the rest of you just live there was called Gordon. He was very big and very proud.

“You watch me this afternoon, little Edward,” he boasted, “as I rush through with the Express; that will be a splendid sight for you.”

Just then his Driver pulled the lever. “Goodbye, little Edward,” said Gordon, as he puffed away, “look out for me this afternoon!”

It’s an eternal mystery to me whether he’s trying to bully or flirt but either way he’s really rather bad at it.

Edward went off, too, to do some shunting.

Edward liked shunting. It was fun playing with trucks. He would come up quietly and give them a pull.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” screamed the trucks. “Whatever is happening?”

Then he would stop and the silly trucks would go bump into each other. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” they cried again.

Edward pushed them until they were running nicely, and when they weren’t expecting it he would stop; one of them would be sure to run on to another line. Edward played till there were no more trucks; then he stopped to rest.

Presently he heard a whistle. Gordon came puffing along, very slowly, and very crossly. Instead of nice shining coaches, he was pulling a lot of very dirty coal trucks.

“A goods train! a goods train! a goods train!” he grumbled. “The shame of it, the shame of it, the shame of it.”

He went slowly through, with the trucks clattering and banging behind him.

Edward laughed, and went to find some more trucks.

Soon afterwards a Porter came and spoke to his Driver. “Gordon can’t get up the hill. Will you take Edward and push him, please?”

They found Gordon halfway up the hill and very cross. His Driver and Fireman were talking to him severely. “You are not trying!” they told him. And if you think the only mechanical trick engine-men on this railway have is scolding their engines, oh you just wait until next story!

“I can’t do it,” said Gordon. “The noisy trucks hold an engine back so. If they were coaches now — clean sensible things that come quietly — that would be different.”

Edward’s Driver came up. “We’ve come to push,” he said. “No use at all,” said Gordon. “You wait and see,” said Edward’s Driver.

They brought the train back to the bottom of the hill. Edward came up behind the brake van ready to push.

“Peep, peep, I’m ready,” said Edward.

“Poop, poop, no good,” grumbled Gordon.

The Guard blew his whistle and they pulled and pushed as hard as they could.

“I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it,” puffed Gordon.

“I will do it, I will do it, I will do it,” puffed Edward.

“I can’t do it, I will do it, I can’t do it, I will do it, I can’t do it, I will do it,” they puffed together.

Edward pushed and puffed and puffed and pushed, as hard as ever he could, and almost before he realised it, Gordon found himself at the top of the hill.

“I’ve done it! I’ve done it! I’ve done it!” he said proudly, and forgot all about Edward pushing behind. He didn’t wait to say “Thank you”, but ran on so fast that he passed two stations before his Driver could make him stop.

Edward had pushed so hard that when he got to the top he was out of breath.

Gordon ran on so fast that Edward was left behind.

The Guard waved and waved, but Edward couldn’t catch up.

He ran on to the next station, and there the Driver and Fireman said they were very pleased with him. The Fireman gave him a nice long drink of water, and the Driver said, “I’ll get out my paint tomorrow, and give you a beautiful new coat of blue with red stripes, then you’ll be the smartest engine in the Shed.” Because that's the normal purview of an engine driver. I guess.

THE SAD STORY OF HENRY

ONCE, an engine attached to a train

Was afraid of a few drops of rain —

— It went into a tunnel,

And squeaked through its funnel

And never came out again.

😨

The engine’s name was Henry. His Driver and Fireman argued with him, but he would not move. “The rain will spoil my lovely green paint and red stripes,” he said.

The Guard blew his whistle till he had no more breath, and waved his flags till his arms ached; but Henry still stayed in the tunnel, and blew steam at him.

“I am not going to spoil my lovely green paint and red stripes for you,” he said rudely.

The passengers came and argued too, but Henry would not move.

A Fat Director who was on the train told the Guard to get a rope. “We will pull you out,” he said. But Henry only blew steam at him and made him wet. Y'know, he sure has a lot of steam to spare for an engine that most of us headcanon as having just plain run out of steam this day.

They hooked the rope on and all pulled — except The Fat Director. “My doctor has forbidden me to pull,” he said.

They pulled and pulled and pulled, but still Henry stayed in the tunnel.

At last another train came. The Guard waved his red flag and stopped it. The two Engine Drivers, the two Firemen, and the two Guards went and argued with Henry.

“Look, it has stopped raining,” they said. “Yes, but it will begin again soon,” said Henry. “And what would become of my green paint with red stripes then?”

So they brought the other engine up, and it pushed and puffed and pushed as hard as ever it could. But still Henry stayed in the tunnel.

So they gave it up. They told Henry, “We shall leave you there for always and always and always.”

They took up the old rails, built a wall in front of him, and cut a new tunnel.

Because these No-Where people are insane and have absolutely no sense of priorities, that's why. *shrug* Hope this doesn't turn into an ongoing island stereotype!

Now Henry can’t get out, and he watches the trains rushing through the new tunnel. He is very sad because no one will ever see his lovely green paint with red stripes again.

But I think he deserved it, don’t you?

😳

EDWARD, GORDON, AND HENRY

EDWARD and Gordon often went through the tunnel where Henry was shut up.

Edward would say, “Peep, peep — hullo!” and Gordon would say, “Poop, poop, poop! Serves you right!”

Poor Henry had no steam to answer, his fire had gone out; soot and dirt from the tunnel roof had spoilt his lovely green paint and red stripes. He was cold and unhappy, and wanted to come out and pull trains too.

Gordon always pulled the Express. He was proud of being the only engine strong enough to do it.

There were many heavy coaches, full of important people like The Fat Director who had punished Henry.

Gordon was seeing how fast he could go. “Hurry! hurry! hurry!” he panted.

“Trickety-trock, trickety-trock, trickety-trock,” said the coaches. They had not yet learned Sass.

Gordon could see Henry’s tunnel in front.

“In a minute,” he thought, “I’ll poop, poop, poop at Henry, and rush through and out into the open again.”

Today, you see, Gordon was to learn about the Unspoken Plan Guarantee.

Closer and closer he came — he was almost there, when crack: “Wheee ——— eeshshsh,” he was in a cloud of steam, and going slower and slower.

His Driver stopped the train.

“What has happened to me?” asked Gordon, “I feel so weak.” “You’ve burst your safety valve,” said the Driver. “You can’t pull the train any more.” “Oh, dear,” said Gordon. “We were going so nicely, too… Look at Henry laughing at me.” Gordon made a face at Henry, and blew smoke at him. Siblings, all right. I don't need to cite The Lore. This is the most sibling dynamic ever.

Everybody got out, and came to see Gordon. “Humph!” said The Fat Director. “I never liked these big engines — always going wrong; send for another engine at once.”

While the Guard went to find one, they uncoupled Gordon, and ran him on a siding out of the way.

The only engine left in the Shed was Edward.

“I’ll come and try,” he said.

Gordon saw him coming. “That’s no use,” he said, “Edward can’t pull the train.”

Edward puffed and pulled, and pulled and puffed, but he couldn’t move the heavy coaches.

“I told you so,” said Gordon rudely. “Why not let Henry try?” he added sarcastically.

“Yes,” said The Fat Director, “I will.”

Gordon: shocked pikachu face

“Will you help pull this train, Henry?” he asked. “Yes,” said Henry at once. “Yes, yes, oh please yes thinly-disguised God figure I'm literally disintegrating in here with nothing but the spiders and rust for company what are you nutters I'll do a n y t h i n g."

So Gordon’s Driver and Fireman lit his fire; some platelayers broke down the wall and put back the rails; and when he had steam up Henry puffed out.

Seriously. What is going on here. How fast did they raise Henry's steam? Couldn't they have sent Edward on with the first-class coaches at least? Couldn't everyone have walked to Vicarstown by this point? Are all the passengers having a cookout? Was this the You Had To Be There social event of the '20s?

He was dirty, his boiler was black, and he was covered with cobwebs. “Ooh! I’m so stiff! Ooh! I’m so stiff!” he groaned.

“You’d better have a run to ease your joints, and find a turntable,” said The Fat Director kindly.

Too little too late.

Henry came back feeling better, and they put him in front.

“Peep, peep,” said Edward, “I’m ready.”

“Peep, peep, peep,” said Henry, “so am I.”

“Pull hard; pull hard; pull hard,” puffed Edward.

“We’ll do it; we’ll do it; we’ll do it,” puffed Henry.

“Pull hard we’ll do it. Pull hard we’ll do it. Pull hard we’ll do it,” they puffed together. The heavy coaches jerked and began to move, slowly at first, then faster and faster. This scene works so much better in extended written form, wth, somehow it really does make me feel more like I'm beside a starting train than the TVS version.

“We’ve done it together! We’ve done it together! We’ve done it together!” said Edward and Henry.

“You’ve done it, hurray! You’ve done it, hurray! You’ve done it, hurray!” sang the coaches. This part is still lame tho.

All the passengers were excited mostly because after hours and hours of delay they were finally moving again good God the Nowhereland-people sure have some bad Stockholm syndrome. The Fat Director leaned out of the window to wave to Edward and Henry; but the train was going so fast that his hat blew off into a field where a goat ate it for his tea.

They never stopped till they came to the big station at the end of the line.

The passengers all got out and said, “Thank you,” and a few unprintable things pro’lly, and The Fat Director promised Henry a new coat of paint.

“Would you like blue and red?”

“Yes, please,” said Henry, “then I’ll be like Edward.”

The Togetherness™ is strong in this one.

Edward and Henry went home quietly or at least as quietly as two steam engines can wend, and on their way home they helped Gordon back to the Shed.

All three engines are now great friends. No, seriously. Great friends. Besties. Stop laughing!

Wasn’t Henry pleased when he had his new coat? He is very proud of it, as all good engines are — but he doesn’t mind the rain now, because it sure beats the extended tunnel nightmare because he knows that the best way to keep his paint nice is not to run into tunnels, but to ask his Driver to rub him down when the day’s work is over.

A concept that apparently no one thought to explain to him during all the arguments back on page 42.

#we joke that the engines are full of caprice #but they're the most normal beings on the island #it's the sudrians who are all insane #the poor engines are just Doing Their Best to work around the humans' madness #thank you for coming to my ted tags #not tagging this in any helpful sort of way #it's for friends and friends of friends #i miss LJ's f-lock function tbh #but what are the odds i get sued? #ooooooooh i know i should make it a Plus Post lmaooo #seriously though there are several books where it's been agonizing to not be able to find the text online #libraries are not to be relied on for these volumes either #they have. like. the thomas books? #THOSE ARE THE ONES THAT WERE ADAPTED NEAR WORD-FOR-WORD smh #anyway though dear friends #like #save it fast if you want it for ref okay? #i'll probably take this down again at some point #the detail about gordon's driver not being able to make him stop for TWO STATIONS #huh #i can't tell whether this is just awdry personifying *everything* about ordinary train operations #in other words gordon just wasn't due to stop until then but awdry wanted to make it colorful #or whether we want to just... lean into that being a whole Thing #the greatest story never told in TTRE #it's pretty adorable ngl #the three railway engines #fan resources #rws transcriptions #rws annotations #rws full text

[the-insomniac-emporium]

We Don't Talk (About That) [Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader]

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: Affection has never been Cassandra's strong point- neither the giving nor the receiving of it. But when it comes to you, she's determined to try, regardless of the obstacles in her path. Notes: Spiritual sequel to Everybody Talks Too Much, but they can be read in any order. Reader is selectively mute, but ends up talking in this one, partially due to being high on a fever, oops. The reader in this one is also a lil bit sassier than some of my other ones, hence why it has tentatively earned my "blunt teeth sharp tongue" tag.

-----------------

“Seriously? You’re wearing white for this?” Cassandra says, eying you with a look of disbelief. All you can really do is shrug in response. After all, your hands are occupied with your current task: Wiping blood off of the corridor floor. That didn’t leave much room for miming, or writing anything down. “You’re going to fuck up your sleeves, you know that, right?” Another shrug, this time with an added humming noise, just for fun. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why Cassandra was hanging out, let alone why she cared if you got your shirt dirty. It’s not like she would be the one to do the laundry. More than that, she was the one who had decided to punish a maiden in the middle of the hallway.

Still, you would never think to voice your questions, or otherwise indicate your feelings. Not that you had feelings about her, or anything, the mere idea of that was ridiculous. For a completely unrelated reason you find yourself glad that she could not see your cheeks from where she stood. Glad I don’t talk, you think, otherwise I’d probably say something really stupid right now. Instead, you focus on your work, scrubbing hard at the floors. Despite your companion’s warning, not even a single drop of blood ends up staining your clothing. That’s why I rolled up my sleeves first, babe!... And that’s why I don’t talk, you think, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

“That was fast. Sure you didn’t miss a spot?” Cassandra asks, stepping over to where you had cleaned. Before you can protest she’s leaning down to examine the floor. Which would, you know, be fine. If she didn’t have blood (and dirt, and who knows what else) on her gloves, that is. Groaning, you try to slap her wrist, temporarily forgetting your place. Next thing you know she’s pushing you to the ground, on top of you with her hand posed to strike. You flinch, instantly, clamping your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable. But, just as quickly as she had gotten on you, she climbs right off, refusing to meet your confused gaze, refusing to answer your unspoken questions. “You’re lucky that mother thinks you’re useful,” she spat, leaving you with one last angry huff.

“What the fuck?...” You whisper, as soon as you think she won’t be able to hear you. Of all the things she could have possibly done in response… this was the only one you couldn’t justify. There’s only one thing that could possibly help you cope with your confusion: Cleaning. Thankfully, the same person who had just flipped your mind upside down had also left a few boot prints in her path. Humming softly to yourself, you get right back to work, gleefully ignoring what had just transpired.

-----------------

“Why do they do that?” Cassandra snapped, storming into the library, immediately demanding her older sister’s attention. However, Bela does not respond, merely looking up from her book with an eyebrow raised. Frustrated, Cassandra sits down at the table before slamming her fists onto it. At this, Bela sets her book to the side, realizing that she couldn’t ignore this tantrum. “Oh come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about!”

“Yes, I do, because they’re the only person you’ve given a damn about in a decade, maybe longer,” Bela replies, rolling her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I have any clue what you’re complaining about this time. What did they do, hmm? Did they brush their hand up against yours? Make a heart with their hands again? Oh, let me guess, they smiled when you walked into the room.” At this point, Cassandra was nothing if not predictable, much to her own frustration. How often had she come to her sister, in confidence, to have this very conversation? Countless times, and never once with a clear goal in mind.

Just a head full of thoughts of you.

“They touched me,” she admits, after a few seconds of agonizing silence. The words feel heavy and wrong on her tongue, like they were coated in syrup, too sweet to be anything other than sickening. “Slapped my hand away like I was a kid sticking a fork in an outlet, for fuck’s sake! Who do they think I am?” Now those words felt better. Angrier- left a worse taste in her mouth, but easier to swallow.

“That depends, were you trying to stick a fork into an outlet? Sounds like the sort of thing you’d do to impress them,” Bela teases, laughing even when her arm gets smacked in retaliation. “Maybe you should just ask them, then, if you can’t fathom why they might touch you. Or you could simply wallow in self pity for another decade, pretending to hate their guts when really you’re desperate to get laid?”

“When did you get so rude?” Cassandra snaps, standing up with a scowl.

“Oh, probably about the eighth time we had this talk?” Bela replies, quick as a whip, smiling all the while. If she was going to have to endure this sort of thing this often, she might as well have some fun with it. But this appeared to be the end of this particular conversation, with a miffed Cassandra making her exit, once more leaving Bela to read in peace… for a while, at least.

-----------------

She can’t find you. She’s looked just about everywhere, asked every maiden she’s come across, and all any of them had to say were nervous apologies. Where were you? Why were you absent, now of all times, when she had finally decided to speak to you? Curse my luck, Cassandra thinks, barely restraining herself from wreaking havoc on her surroundings. Though maybe they’ll show up to take care of my mess, she muses, then thinks better of it when she imagines your exhausted expression. After all, there was only one place left for her to look: Your personal quarters. If you weren’t there, then, well, there’d be a new problem entirely.

“They better have a damn good reason for hiding away,” Cassandra mumbles under her breath. Then she’s opening the door to your room, not bothering to knock. What could you want to hide from her anyway? “Oh shit.” Evidently she hadn’t thought this through. There you were, asleep in bed, shirtless, a washcloth on your forehead. Every muscle in your body seemed to be shivering, and the occasional weak murmur leaves your lips. It doesn’t take more than a moment for Cassandra to act. Clearly you’re cold, hence the shaking, regardless of how warm it feels to her. So she’s grabbing a blanket from your dresser, quickly covering you with it. “Is that better?”

You don’t respond. Not that she truly expected you to. But the way you continue to shake has her even more concerned, and a trace of panic starts to set in. She searches for other blankets, laying them on top of you, confused as to why you aren’t getting better. C’mon, asshole, she thinks, I’m trying to help you! As if summoned by her frustrations, a maiden soon swings the door open, freezing in place when they see her. Instantly she’s whirling around to face them, a cruel remark dying in her throat. Of course it was one of her mother’s favorites. Eventually, she would have to find someone else to take her frustrations out on.

“Lady Cassandra? What are you-” Cynthia, senior staff member of Castle Dimitrescu, veteran of more than five years, starts to ask. But once she spies the pile of blankets on top of you… well, her eyes go wide. “Damn it, my Lady, you’re going to kill them!” With that said she’s rushing forward, setting down a basket of who-knows-what on your nightstand, before quickly removing the extra sheets. Half confused, half furious, Cassandra stands nearby, unable to decide how to react. Perhaps noticing this, Cynthia is quick to explain her actions. “They have a fever, the worst one I’ve seen in all of my years here. They may be shivering, but trust me, their skin might as well be on fire.”

“I was just trying to help,” Cassandra defends, words rushing out before she can stop herself. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“Clearly, and I don’t blame you. Let’s just be glad that I came to check on them, hmm?” Cynthia suggests, giving an oddly motherly (i.e. reassuring) smile. On one hand, Cassandra doesn’t appreciate being talked to like this, at least not by someone other than her mother. On the other hand, well, she is glad that she hadn’t accidentally killed you. Taking a moment to let her heart rate slow back down, Cassandra moves to lean against the wall closest to you. She can’t help but frown when she sees the way your eyes flurry about beneath their lids. What are you dreaming about? Is it a nightmare, she wonders, or something softer, like you deserve?

“Can… can I help?” She asks, voice hardly more than a whisper. It was too late to save herself from embarrassment, but it wasn’t too late to contribute to your recovery. Or at least that’s what she hoped. There’s relative silence for a few moments, as Cynthia thinks over her words, swapping out the damp washcloth on your forehead all the while. When she finally replies, she does not look up from her task. Always the professional.

“Stay with them. If they get worse, come find me immediately. If they wake up, try to get them to drink some water, and ask if they’ve been injured recently. I couldn’t find any wounds on them, but this mess reeks of an infection,” Cynthia says. Opening the basket she had brought in with her, she removes several bottles from within, examining their labels with a tight-lipped frown. “None of these will do shit- pardon my language, my Lady- if it’s an infection, but it should help them fight off the fever until I can get them some proper antibiotics. Well, until the Duke can, that is. Make sure to ask them if they have any allergies to medicine before you give them anything, and please read the directions. They only need to take one kind of pill, alright? I only brought a few kinds in case they can’t have certain ones. Is that clear, Lady Cassandra?”

“Crystal clear,” she chimes, only briefly looking away from you. It’s enough for Cynthia, however, and she leaves with a simple bow. Once more alone with you, Cassandra approaches, gently taking your hand within her own. “You’d better wake up soon. I don’t want to have to babysit you all day…” Doesn’t want to, but would, if that’s what you needed. Wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. At most, she’d make someone fetch her a book to read while she waited. Except… now that she glanced around your room, she found that there were some things to keep her entertained. Like your beloved notepad.

-----------------

What do you mean? I don’t think she feels that way about me. Don’t be ridiculous, she doesn’t like anyone. Because I pay attention to her! It’s not hard to know what she does and does not appreciate, you just need to observe her. No, not like that, don’t be gross. Keep teasing me and my cheeks won’t be the only thing around here that’s red. Oh fuck off, fine, I’ll go talk to her, but you owe me one. Then the page ends, with the next two having been torn out. A few letters here and there are still legible, on what little remains of the missing pieces. Lov- and want her- and wish. Try as she might, Cassandra cannot find the rest of the pages. What had you possibly written that would make you discard all evidence? It’s not like anyone normally went through your notepad. Had you predicted that one day Cassandra would do this?

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She growls, dropping the object with an angry sigh. “Who the hell were you writing about? Who were you fucking talking to? Why won’t you wake up, you goddamn asshole?” Through all of her shouting, you do nothing but shake in place, shivering against a non existent cold. Several hours had passed since Cassandra’s arrival, without you doing so much as batting an eye. Slowly but surely, she was being driven insane, exhausted from worry and jealousy alike. Strange how the most obvious answer eluded her so consistently… Yet hope does not entirely abandon her, as eventually her tantrum manages to pierce the haze around your overheating mind.

“Shhhhhhh. Please,” you mumble, eyes still closed, hardly aware of anything around you. All you really knew was that someone was being insufferable. Hell, your fever was driving you wild, and you didn’t even think about the fact that you hadn’t spoken out loud in front of anyone for over three months. Later, after you recovered, you would be glad that it was Cassandra who finally heard your voice. “Inside voice, mhm? Sleepy time…”

“Did- did you just?” Cassandra asks, stunned, shaking her head as if it might make her realize she was dreaming. But no, this was real, and you really had just spoken to her. It’s enough of a shock to render her speechless for a minute or so.

“Thanks, babe. Need to sleep this off. Or… no, wait, I was supposed to tell someone something?” You ramble, trying to sit up, a hand instinctively going to hold your head. The washcloth falls off of you, and you stare at it in confusion. Before you can start questioning the nature of it’s (or your own) existence, you are distracted by Cassandra, who has traded her own perplexion for determination. Next thing you know, you’re quietly sipping at a glass of water. Exhausted, despite having just been asleep, you eye the nearby medicine with curiosity. “I’m… supposed to tell Cassandra something, maybe? Fuck, why is it so warm in here?”

“You have a fever, dumbass,” Cassandra replies, once more finding her voice, still too overwhelmed to process what’s happening. “Look, you have to take something for your head, okay? Then we can… then we can talk about your feelings all you want, okay?” Maybe she was being a bit presumptuous about what you needed to talk about. Or maybe she was just, for once in her life, being hopeful. Regardless, she presents the medicine to you, getting ready to ask about allergies. Before she can, however, you’ve silently reached for the Ibuprofen and started opening it up.

“This’ll do. For the head, not for talking. We don’t-” you pause to take the pills, gulping down half a glass of water with them- “we don’t talk about that. Feelings. Makes her get mad, and I don’t want her to be mad,” you say, shuddering a little at the thought.

“I won’t get mad this time. Besides, you don’t normally talk at all,” Cassandra replies, rolling her eyes again. Finally, for the first time since waking up, you take a good, long look in her direction. Suddenly you’re putting the pieces together, groaning in protest when you do. How had you not realized? How deep into this fever were you?... “Don’t tell me you just figured it out, ‘babe’? I’m amazed you’re functioning at all right now.”

“Fuck you, Cassie,” you snap, mostly teasing. If she wasn’t freaking out about what you had said, well, then maybe you didn’t need to say much more at all. “You’ll still like me when I’m awake enough to be too scared to talk, right?”

“Honestly?... I was hoping this would be more of a permanent thing,” she admits, refusing to meet your gaze as she puts away the unused medicine. “But I guess I can live with being the only one who knows what your voice sounds like. So don’t you dare fucking talk to anyone else, alright?” She’s joking now, too, sounding more relaxed than she usually was. Even with your body fighting against itself, you can’t help but laugh with her. Then she’s slowly sitting on the edge of your bed, next to you, watching you with adoration clear in her eyes. “You’re going to be fine, right? Because if you die on me, I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“With you as my nurse? I’ll be lucky to last the night,” you joke, pretending to whimper when she gives you a playful slap on the arm. “Nah, nah, I’ll be alright, just as soon as I get some rest. Probably. Maybe you should, uh, stay with me? Just in case.” Next thing you know, Cassandra is pushing you down against the mattress, placing a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then she puts the washcloth back on you, making sure it’s still somewhat cold. Without another word she settles in, leaning against the backboard of the bed, close enough for you to feel her warmth, but far enough that she wouldn’t risk raising your temperature. “Goodnight, Cass,” you murmur, before letting yourself drift back to sleep...

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #blunt teeth sharp tongue #that means the reader is a tad sassy #not quite unhinged tho #a nice middle ground in this one

[taecalikook]

(Not) Just Friends

summary : Befriending the fuckboy with devilishly handsome face and emotional capacity of a pea is not exactly your choice, especially when you met him when you were in fifth grade, attracted for the unhealthy vermillion shaded face of the nerd he was that fateful day. So is Jungkook, as he is already putting strictly platonic label on your forehead and calls it a day. But it is only a matter of time before everything changes, and it only takes a frat party, lots of booze and... a certain Kim Seokjin.

{friends to lovers! au, fuckboy! au, fratboy! au}

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (side kim seokjin)

genre : major fluff, a sprinkle of angst and borderline crack

word count : 24.612 (one-shot)

==============

“Hi, pumpkin! Is that for me?”

You were just sipping on your morning espresso, sitting in your favorite coffee shop while reading your favorite book of all time when the familiar annoying voice of your childhood best friend rang in your ear. You look up, finding the hateful smirk on his lips that you desperately want to strangle off of him, more for interrupting your sacred solitude morning routine—well not really solitude since you did promise him breakfast before class today. But as per usual, he just had to steal the glass you had in your grasps, sipping on the tasteful liquid while scrunching his eyebrows on your choice of reads.

“Isn’t it too early for The Great Gatsby in such a wonderful morning?”

“Isn’t it getting too old for you to keep drinking my coffee?” You bite back in the same bratty manner he displays. Jungkook chuckles, resting the cup back with a slight grimace. Probably because the coffee is tad too bitter for a sweet-crazed tooth like him. “You don’t even like espresso. I don’t even know why you always want a taste of my coffee.”

“Nah, I just want to mess with you fam.” He smirks, the bitterness still leaving a mark on his taste buds. Serve him right, you roll your eyes and try to center your attention back to your book. This idiot really knows no boundaries when it comes to you, you swear to God.

You and Jungkook have been best friends since both of you were kids. As cliché as it sounds, you met Jungkook when he was a total nerd in fifth grade of elementary school. He perfectly embraces the nerd stereotype at that time, thick ass glasses, braces, carrying books and his neon green nintendo nearly everywhere. You were not really interested in befriending the nerd, but when he got shamed by the cool girls for giving them chocolates for Valentine's Day—an expensive chocolate, for anyone keeping notes—you quickly stepped in when it seemed like it went overboard. 

Jungkook was bullied in the middle of the school yard with everyone to witness, for giving the girl he likes a chocolate on fucking Valentine’s Day. You noticed how ashamed he was—lips quivering, heads hanging low and the most distinctive feature is his cheek and ears, literally turning to the shade of vermillion. You did not know whether it is healthy for a face to be that red—you were terrified he might pass out—but yet those girls were still keen on mocking his sincere acts and his shy expression, not showing a sign to stop anytime soon.

Your consciousness literally forced you to step in, jumping on between them and literally yell at those girls. You forcefully stole the chocolate from one of the girls' grasp, eating them on the spot and shouted in irritation, “Done! I ate everything, so stop bullying him. You girls should be ashamed of yourself, he did nothing wrong!”

The imbecile girls were embarrassed, because their show was immediately stopped by an unpopular girl they never saw before in front of the whole school to see. One girl who seemed to be like the leader of the lunatic gang suddenly moved forward and pushed you until you fell on your back, and you know that was it. You seriously had been waiting to use your taekwondo skills for a better cause, and at that time, you saw the chance and took it whole-heartedly. You were not even using your full strength on her—you mostly used your defense technique when she was giving multiple amateur punches. You really lost everything when she grabbed your hair and pulled it hard (like most amateur girls would fight). The pain on your scalp hurt from the vicious pull, so you mildly used the front kick technique on her to push her away yet she easily fell down like a limp noodle, scraping her body with a small amount of the blood trickling out.

After the fight ensued and was broken off by one of the teachers, you and the crying girl were taken to the headmaster’s office. You were going to be punished severely, but fortunately some witnesses came to your rescue, you and the girl received punishment of detention for one month straight. Somehow, the spoiled annoying girl got out of the punishment with her parents persuasion, yet not really the same for your strict parents. They were furious for you to be punished for a physical fight in school that they directly cut you from your twice-a-week taekwondo classes you loved so much—thinking that it must be a bad influence for you. Not only that, you were also grounded and was forbidden to go out of the house for a month. You were devastated, but you know there was no way to change their minds, so you just sucked it up and promised to do your punishment well.

Day one of your punishment, you were sitting inside the detention class, the teacher was zooming off on the table with a documentary of Helen Keller played on the television. You were doodling on the back of your book in boredom. Suddenly, amongst the silence, a hush was heard in front of you, whispering your name. You shifted your head, finding the same boy directly on the table in front of you.You must absolutely did not expect it to be him—the nerd you saved from raging selfishness of the slow-minded girls.

“Hi... I got into detention to accompany you...” 

You inspected the boys with scrunched eyebrows in confusion. He somehow was still with the vermillion shade of red coloring his supple cheeks, just like last week when you were defending him. Is he... sick? He better be not, cause if he were, you were going to regret not setting the girl straight a little bit harder. The adamant despise towards injustice firing inside you was ignited by the lesson you always received from your taekwondo class, how you always must use your strength for goodness. Yes, you indeed will be missing going to Taekwondo classes. 

Realizing your mind had been anywhere but here, you straightened in your seat and tilted your head in confusion at the guy. “Are you okay? You look so… red.”

The boy quickly hid his cheeks with his palm, eyes not meeting yours out of shyness. It looked like he wanted the world to swallow him firsthand. “I—I’m sorry! I just have this weird physical habit of turning super red whenever I'm shy or angry..” He whispered, nibbling on his lips while still avoiding your eyes. “I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable..”

“Nope.” You answered with a loud pop on the last ‘p’, sending the boy a warm smile. “It doesn’t bother me in any way. You should not be ashamed of that. That’s cute.”

Well if you thought his face was already red, you could not imagine how more red it could turn into after you called him cute. Out of panic, you swiftly handed him the cold drinks sitting on your desk. “H—hey! You are too red, it is not possible. Put this on your face!”

After a few seconds he spent pushing the cold bottle to his face, you could finally see him breath again. You were unable to hold a smile looking at the boy, huffing his breath repeatedly to calm himself. You did sincerely find him cute, so different from the boys from your school who somehow really got on your nerves from constantly bragging about nearly everything. Their expensive belongings, their parent’s house, their ability to play sports, and it sickened you. Well you didn't really know the boy in front of you, but it seemed like he wasn’t the type to. You were prepared to drop him the second a cocky symptoms were found though, even if internally you wish he wouldn’t. You spared so much of your effort to take on the guy’s side, such a waste to do that on another thick-headed prick.

“I just realize I don’t know your name.” You suddenly thought to yourself after multiple times addressing him as ‘the nerd’ or ‘this boy’. He was just giving your drinks back to your desk, and then he shyly put out his hands to you.

“Hi.. My name is Jungkook. I am ten years old, and I came from Busan. I have one brother and one dog. My hobby is playing games and taking a bath! Nice to meet you!”

You really were going to burst into laughter, but then you detect the teacher was already woken up and shooting looks at the both of you for causing such a loud commotion. You bit your lips, holding any sound from coming out fervently, your eyes trained on your desk so you would be able to hold them back. Inside, you were glad that you saved this boy the other day. This boy was too pure and kind for his own good, and you were happy that you stood for him.

Well, that was all too long in the past, you nearly had a hard time remembering it. Now Jungkook has changed, 180 degrees from that cute, shy, vermillion shade faced boy you met in elementary school. After an agonizing ten years has passed, he went from a total innocent sweetheart, such a cutie to the annoying ass of a fuckboy jock he is today. What a shame to witness the degradation, you thought to yourself. But you did know when and where it went wrong—he was just too tired of being taken too much of an advantage by despicable people around him. The friend he befriended, his chemistry lab partner in middle school, his classmates and especially the girl he dated in high school. He hated it—he hated everything that happened to him when he was trying to be the nice guy for everyone. 

So in the last year of high school—after the bad breakup with the said girlfriend—he changed everything, nearly everything until it's even hard for you to recognize him sometimes. He swore off dating and romances, he went twelve hours per week to the gym and the school’s football team, attended parties days and nights before fucking random girls, and did the bare minimum in his education due to the shift of focus. But still even by then (actually, even until today), one and only person he would always listen to was you. 

When he failed one of his subjects in the last term of high school—and seemed completely unbothered by it, you were furious at him and refused to communicate in any way to him until he got his priorities straight. He tried contacting you, but you rejected at the first beep. He waited for you in front of your class but you quickly shove him with hurtful words his way, “You stop being yourself, Jungkook. I don’t even know you anymore.” and you meant every word. You missed your best friend, you missed his innocence and availability for you, and frankly, you also had enough of hearing about how charming he was, or how good he was in bed, talked in hush by your obnoxious girls in your classes. 

Few days later, you were already resting in your house while reading a book and listening to the droplets of the heavy rain knocking down on your roof, until a hesitant knock was heard on the door. You shuffled to open the door to find, was expecting your brother coming home from college, but instead found Jungkook, drenched in front of your porch with the remedial sheet on his hand—written that he passed the said subject with flying colors. You were surprised that he even got the chance to fix his grade, but after telling you he needed to do a fifty page review of the economic systems around the world to even got the chance to remedial test, you did realize how much he put an effort to pass a subject he didn’t even like. Somehow, it resulted in more happiness on you than you thought it would be. You couldn’t deny you were already contemplating whether you were too harsh or nosy on him, or he would just drop you the second you push him away. You were on the edge, imagining that you would lose a best friend because of your annoying attitude and peskiness. But he came through.

After welcoming Jungkook to take a bath and wear your brother’s clothes, you offered him a glass of hot chocolate, his favorite drink. But you noticed that he was still pouting, so you questioned it. “I am thankful that you knocked some sense into me, but Y/N, don’t ever ignore me like that again…” Jungkook’s pout turned deeper, his knuckles pushing your forehead in annoyance. 

“You are the last person who I ever wanted to turn against me.” He whispered after seconds of silence of just staring at each other, eyes turning gleam that knocked some guilt inside your chest. You nodded silently, promising that you would not do that kind of antics again.

You remember that day like the back of your hand—after a long time, you see how vermillion-shaded his face has returned after telling you how thankful he was for your presence as his best friend during the past ten years, and your straight-up attitude that set him straight during his weak times. He cried that day, telling you how hard everything was for him. Behind those strong facade and muscle, you realized he was still the innocent, vulnerable nerd with a vermillion-shaded face you met ten years ago. You missed those innocence he finally displayed, and it brought you back to times when it was just you and him against the world. 

Even after that day Jungkook still continues all his fuckboy ways, and until now after both of you went to the same university. He is taking an industrial engineering major while you were doing your life-long dream of taking political science, both of your faculties are located near each other. Jungkook was still being the same Jungkook he was, he joined the football team and brother frat in college, filled with dumb rich jocks who held parties nearly twice a week. After getting few drinks in the party, he would fall into meaningless sex with the girl he just knew before. Not that you mind, you have been way too accustomed in having such a best friend and it doesn’t even bother you anymore.

But still, you were confused how Jungkook is able to maintain his life together—his studies, his jock practices and his fuckboy activities in parallel. You have no objection at all for his life choices—since he never leaves you out and schedules a breakfast or lunch minimal twice per week with you to update you on what he was doing with his life and likewise. Not even counting the times he would get you from your apartment if you have the same morning class like today. By what you hear from him, it really seems like he is holding up just well. Good for him.

“Hey, stop ignoring me, you ugly ass hoe!”

You wake up from your long flashbacks, since you notice that you have been zooming out for quite a while now. You clear your throat, sipping on the coffee that has turned cold, sending apologies for not paying attention to him. “Sorry. I was distracted. You were saying?”

Jungkook frowns, his eyes squinted on you, and you know what he was doing. He was trying to diagnose your silence. You roll your eyes at his nosy acts. “Stop looking at me like that! I said I was sorry, Jungkook. Now tell me what’s bothering you. This girl you fucked with before, did she still try to contact you again?”

“I wasn’t telling you about that!” Jungkook raises his voice, his face slightly reddening out of shyness for you mentioning his bad experience on one of his one night stands. Looking at him, you are reminded about the vermillion-faced Jungkook you met in elementary school. Oh how you miss those reddening supple cheeks of his. “I was telling you if you are going to Hoseok’s birthday party this weekend. It’s gonna be lit, I swear! He is holding it in his fancy ass house with a pool and whatever.” You snort, your eyes trailing back on your books even if you are not reading at all. You just want to ignore him, implicitly telling how silly his invitation was. Parties are never your forte, you feel mildly uncomfortable in such a short distance with tons of strangers. You’d rather reread this book you are holding for the nth time already, you swear.

“Y/N, you could even meet boys there, I know how saintly you have been living lately. Live a little, pumpkin! I swear you’ll enjoy it there.” Still you don’t budge on him.

“Kim Seokjin is gonna be there, though. You sure you won’t come?”

Listening to his name, your ears perk up, eyes slightly glancing up to him. Seokjin is one of Jungkook’s frat brothers, a final year who surely does not share the same ugly traits of the other brother. He is smart, ambitious in his study, and is also the head of the Taekwondo university club. Your deep interest in Taekwondo has driven you to see him in multiple universities and external competitions, and you cannot bear yourself but to swoon over him and his rightful acts. Even if you surely do not have the courage to directly introduce yourself to him, you have been thinking a lot about joining the club with pure—well not really pure motivation. You are also unable to emphasize more that he is really one of the kindest souls out there. He is known as very helpful to everyone, joining as a volunteer in various social and environmental movements. You also heard that he had a serious relationship for five years, in which they had to break up a year ago because the girl had to move to America to pursue her study and decide to break up with him. What a doofus.

You notice the cocky, winning triumph on Jungkook’s face realizing how affected you are by the name, but you’ll set aside your will to erase the annoying smirk off of his face just to get more information out of him. “Continue.”

“He is best friends with Hoseok. I know he is not really a party type—you probably know that better than I do—but this one's for his friend's birthday party. He’ll come.” Jungkook says, munching on the served american breakfast in front of him. “You can finally meet him, probably say hi and then bone him while you’re at it. You get me?” Jungkook wickedly smiles, eyebrows dancing on his temple and you roll your eyes in response. You have such an obnoxious dickhead as a friend, and whose fault is it? Yours, of course.

“I hate you so much, Jungkook. Do you know that?” You gave him a cynical smile, and he returned it with the same bland taste, biting on the last piece of bacon. 

“Can.. Can I bring Lia too?” You hesitantly asked, biting on your lips. Jungkook’s chewing movement is slowing, an uncomfortable silence ensues.

Lia is your apartment roommate, a cute girl with the same major as yours. Short height, big round eyes and straight hair are her noticeable features, and what troubles Jungkook for Lia’s presence in your discussions, is her uncanny resemblance to his high school ex girlfriend. Her similar name, her looks, her height, her choice of outfit and nearly everything, reminded him of the girl he has been trying to forget. You were surprised while meeting her too at first, but you did not realize how the resemblance would bother Jungkook that much. Well probably, Jungkook was still trying to forget about her—hell, this whole new persona of his was founded by his heartbreak towards the bitter-ended relationship.

You remember how head over heels was Jungkook towards his ex-girlfriend. Whenever he is around her, or just thinking about her when she was brought up in your discussions, Jungkook would again turn vermillion in shyness for his adoration of the girl. He would waste hours, with all his power and wealth to make the girl happy—without telling you at that time about how much he spent for her, since he knew how fervently you would react to that—and content with the relationship they both shared. But none could prepare him for the inevitable break up, Jungkook found the girl was cheating on him with another older guy, in which he found out who was her source of income too. Jungkook was devastated, heartbroken and that's the turning point when he swore off romances and relationships at all cost. You tried your best in helping him mend the broken pieces caused by the vicious witch of an ex-girlfriend, but you know none of it was the same ever again. What you could and promise to do is to be there for your best friend, at all times.

“It’s—it’s okay. I think I am just overreacting over all of this. I swear.” He sighs, sounding a little bit tired of everything and putting the utensils on his plate. You lean closer, waiting for the continuation of his spoken mind. “I am so fucked up, Y/N. Like, there are so many things that keep reminding me of her. You know how evil she is, and everything she did to me—but I still find myself missing her so much it’s crazy. It’s been nearly two years, but I still think about her—a lot. The girl I was with last night. The girl I met at a party two weeks ago. Your roommate—gosh, i’m so tired.” He sadly groans, hiding his face behind his palm. Oh, how you wish to take away some of the pain he feels.

“I think.. I think you just need to stop pushing it away, Jungkook..” You softly speak, your palm caressing his shoulder to his arm in sympathy. Jungkook let out another sigh, resting his palm over yours, eyes filled with frustration over himself.  “I think the more you are trying to stop thinking about her, the less you are able to overcome it. Just let it go. Confront it. Confront everything that reminds you of her, and tell yourself that you are slowly but surely overcoming the hunch.”

Jungkook silently nods for a while zooming out to the street, until at one point he slowly squints his eyes on you, full of suspicion. You choose to look away, trying to be nonchalant of his suspecting gaze.

“You just want me to allow your friend to go to the party so you will have a companion to meet Seokjin, right?”

Well, you should know you are going to be caught red-handed, but it should not this fast, though. Are you that obvious or it’s just another episode of Jungkook knowing you better than you do? “You know how much I need to meet him, Jungkook! You are my friend, you should help me with this. I need her as my support.” You defend yourself, arms folded in front of your chest in agitation. You are desperately in need of  Lia there, so at least when you embarrass yourself in front of a cheering crowd—or worst, Seokjin himself—you will have support that helps you get into that taxi and drive yourself to the nearest cliff. You won’t even expect Jungkook to be  there for you, he must be off somewhere fucking bimbos and that’s just how less you expect of him.

“Hey, I can be your wingman to score him too! Are you kidding me? I am his kind, I know how to get you to him better than that friend of yours.” Jungkook scrunch his nose in distaste of your doubts about him. You scoff loudly, pushing your cold coffee away so you or Jungkook’s slob trait will not nudge or drop it to pieces mid argument. That surely happened before, and you do not want another dirty look thrown by the waitress at the both of you for causing troubles, yet again.

“Stop kidding me. First, you are not his kind. He is not a fuckboy. And what would happen if I go there with you are first, you missing at twenty minutes mark and off fucking some girl on the upstair bedroom or even worse, in the restroom and I’ll just be foolishly standing in the corner like fucking nerd who miss her literature club meeting with expectation to meet a cute, faithful guy in some dumb frat parties, fell in love and get married to happily ever after. Or second, you ignore the girls thirsting over you to accompany me and just an hour, you off to get a drink and those dumb girls will kidnap me and feed me to the lion. I don’t see any positive scenario over you, accompanying me to the party. No thanks.”

Jungkook is surely bewildered over the scenario you just play out to him. You take a deep breath, realize you have been spitting out so many words in such a short span of time. You are quite proud of that talent, though.

“That’s… strangely detailed.”

You roll your eyes, looking at the watch on your wrist. Only ten minutes left and both of you need to run to the first class.  “We need to get going now. Let’s go, you dumb jock.”

Jungkook sighs, following your step, resting a few bills on the table. “It’s my turn paying now. Let’s go.”

*

“Are you sure you want to wear that?”

Listening to Lia’s queries for the nth time, you sigh and go inside the bathroom to change into your comfy house clothes. You have been trying to find the perfect dress that is the perfect balance of classy and slutty since three hours ago—exactly right after you ran home from your afternoon class. But yet it seems like no dress is right, one makes you look too slutty, or another which makes you like a freaking nun amongst the girl in the party, or another one which make your butt looks massive or one that is too tight you know you can’t even breathe if you wear that to the party. And who are you even kidding? You are putting too much effort for a party that most likely will not even realize you are there. You know that you are not that excessively pretty like some girls that hangout with Seokjin and Jungkook’s frat—yes, you are not far on the other side either, but it’s still a valid point.

“I’m done. I’m just wearing anything to the party and if Seokjin can’t see me, he can kiss my ass. Probably gonna die alone anyway, why do I even try...” Your groan was muffled to the pile of clothes on your bed. Lia hisses at your sudden discouragement, she wakes up and launches a slap on your butt.

“Nuh-uh! You know how important this is to you, Y/N. You gotta try, or you’ll regret it forever!” Lia shakes you again, but you are still groaning against the clothes. Seeing how long this may drag and you still haven’t even done your hair, she has no choice but to drag you from bed until you are thrown on the floor with a loud bump.

“Ah! It hurts!”

“I know it hurts but you’ll be thanking me in the next five years when you are married to Seokjin and pregnant with his third kid.” 

“Now that’s just forward. And delusional. Seokjin is married to me? Seriously, like he even wants to deal with such a mess.” You pout while rubbing on your hurting elbow due to the unexpected fall. Even with such a small frame Lia cages animalistic power it’s unbelievable. “And I don’t even want to get married that fast! I still need to open my restaurant, I haven’t even met Liam Neeson, travel the world—”

“Wait-wait, hold on. Why Liam Neeson?”

“Because he is hot. Like real hot. Have you seen Narnia? That is one god-carved voice, damn! How I wish I could have a man with a voice like Liam. In Taken! He is so hot and protective and do you know that in Star Wars—”

Lia quickly shuts you by throwing a glittery dress to your face, disgust coloring her face. “That’s just borderline daddy kink and I hope you are well aware you are fucking weird.”

You grimace. “No argument here.”

*

9pm, and both you and Lia finally arrive at the large mansion which you recognize must be Hoseok’s. You check the text Jungkook sent this morning about the location’s address once again, quickly scrambling out of the car after muttering thanks to the driver to enter the huge, fancy house. Lia holds you by the waist, giving it a short squeeze of support seeing how jittery you have become since the taxi arrived. “It’s okay. You look beautiful, and Seokjin will be crazy not to see you.”

“Thanks.” You huff a breath, trying to muster a little bit confidence in your steps. It is half-working, you have to admit. 

It’s still early, yet the party is crazy enough you can’t even believe it. Every corner is busy with their own games and activities, the bass blaring in your ear until you’re this close to temporary deafness, and the outside of the house is a large outdoor pool with people laughing and girls with hot bod and bikinis. Just the perfect recipe of the best night everyone will regret—or maybe it’s just you.

You already had your fair share of parties, and you have to admit that it’s not your thing. The free booze, though? Tempting. You are trying to look at the better side of the whole ordeal. Even if you fall short and embarrass yourself in front of your crush, you get the eternal consolation of booze to help you kick the shame away. Nothing screams adult like pushing your problem away with the help of alcohol, right?

You check yourself against the reflection on the nearest mirror to you, restlessness creeping inside your head. Damn, you seriously are just a sack of old potatoes compared to these girls in clad dress and high stilettos which will surely be able to stab and kill someone. You should just pack it up and go home, really.

“Hey! I know that face, Y/N. No! We are not backing down. I did not just spend five hours of your whiny ass complaining what to wear for you to be this defeated without even trying!” Lia quickly pushes you away when you are about to run out the door for your life. You frown, ready to let out some whiny complaints when she pushes your unknowing ass away, right into someone’s arm.

From the countless people inside the freaking party you just had to fall to Seokjin’s arm. God must be joking. 

Looking straight into his beautiful, sparkling eyes, it seems like your mind is completely wiped like new, and you have the trouble of speaking your mind. His warm arms are around your shoulder, keeping you stable on your feet and this might be the nearest you have been to the taste of death.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I think you fell and I just caught you...” Seokjin smiles politely, eyes crinkled into a smile and you are still in the midst of inner conflict of speaking out anything. Out of realization how annoying your act must have been to him, you jumped feets away, desperate to keep a distance. You are really this close to running away, but do not want to be perceived like a total moron especially to him, so you let out a thin, nervous smile. 

“T—thank you for catching me.” You breathily murmur, feeling shy. How can someone not be? God, is he beautiful. His fluffy hair is styled nicely, he is wearing such a simple attire, a blue loose shirt and black denim but damn did he wear it like nobody’s business.

“No problem.” He lightly shakes his head, but a sudden realization comes to his mind as he inches closer to you, eyebrows scrunched together in question. You unconsciously lean further away from him, heart drumming fast in your chest. “I think I’ve seen you before. In my Taekwondo’s match. Right?!”

Never in a million years have you thought that Seokjin might notice—and even remember your face amongst the large crowd, watching him in his battles for your college’s team. You are always hidden, and as plain as ever whenever you watch him from the bleachers, and would run away the second whistle blows signaling the end of the competition. But now he told you he recognizes you?! Gosh, what are the odds. You have never felt so shameful and concious of your own skin before.

“Um… Yes! But you have nothing to worry, I’m not a stalker or anything, I just really like taekwondo and I like watching you—I mean the team!” You shyly correct yourself, internally punishing yourself for the accidental slip. You are such a humiliation and frankly, still too sober for this. What will you trade to forget the encounter never happened and drown yourself in booze in every form—drinks, beer, jelly shots, whatever.

“No! Of course not.” He chuckles, amused like he is really content to see you, nonchalant to how uncomfortable you are with your skin right now. You feel like a doofus, making a fool of yourself. “I really want to talk to you every time a match is finished, but you always bolt away after, I don’t have the chance to.” Then he dare to fucking winks. “But I’m glad we can finally meet here.” 

You are too confused with every act and word coming out of his mouth—did he just flirt with you?—so your reply is simple, and desperate. “Wow. Sorry, I seriously need a drink right now. Can you hold that thought?”

Seokjin chuckles and nods, his palm hovers over your back, guiding you. “I’ll come with you.” You don’t really know why he has to follow just for you to shortly grab a drink, and then he points to his empty glass. You nod knowingly, trying to focus on the booze bar you are heading to. The bar is crazy extravagant for a frat party, with the bartender pouring mixed drinks on the side. You silently gasp. Damn, Hoseok is really that rich, huh?

He continues with a cheeky smile. “I have been looking forward to talking to you since forever, and you just bolted out. Is it wrong of me to be scared you are going to pull the same trick again?”

Wow, you don’t even know what he means by that, so you let out a nervous chuckle as an answer. It is like you are back to third grade, having your first crush giving you hope by his words and you are busy configuring and overthinking everything like fucking detective conan. But you refuse to get your hopes up, your brain desperately screaming to fill your glass with your favorite whiskey. You offer him the bottle, and he smirks and receives it while purposefully brushing your hand in the process. Fuck Kim Seokjin. What happen to such a polite boy you heard so much about?!

“So, are you going to tell me about yourself?” He smiles, and your finger fidgets in nerve, quickly taking a whole gulp of the alcoholic drink, praying it to quickly intoxicate your mind so you can speak clearly in front of such handsome face. Well, for one booze is the best recipe for you during these times.

“I don’t know what you want to know about me, Seokjin. I’m just an ordinary freshman.” You smile, your teeth grazing your lower lips. But one thing you notice is that Seokjin is silent, his eyes following the movement of your bitten lips like he is completely bothered by it.

“Do you like taekwondo? I see you a lot in the match.” He starts with a simple question, while taking a large portion of his drink down his throat and ending it with a sigh. “When you were watching, you looked like you knew your stuff. It’s TMI, but I can’t help but to find it’s totally, totally hot.”

“So you are watching me watching people during a Taekwondo match?” You bravely shoot, and Seokjin let out a chuckle. You do not know what has gotten on him—or you, even at that point. What you know is that you feel your head is light, but your body is hot and bothered by just looking at him. Seokjin just literally flirts on you and all you wanna do is to jump on him and quench the thirst rubbing in the middle of your thigh.

At the time, you notice that Seokjin is bluntly staring at your lips, his eyes turned dark and heavy with lust, and his face literally inching closer and closer to you. You lick your lips, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. Is it really going to happen? Seokjin somehow, against all odds, finds you hot and that's it—you’re going to kiss him like that? Just how many years of luck do you have to sacrifice for this?

“Seokjin! Here you are. Hoseok is looking for you.”

The strange sexual tension that filled the air between you and Seokjin with your lips just inches away from each other is broken by the dumbest fuck of a best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Seokjin immediately flinches, moving away and you instinctively turn your head, your hands scratching your nape out of shyness. You swear you are going to kill your best friend after this. How dare he interrupt the moment you have been dreaming for such a long time now?!

“Thanks for that, man.” Seokjin hisses, his words dripping with sarcasm and annoyance of your interrupted session. He turns his regretful eyes to you, hands resting on your shoulder, sliding to your wrist affectionately. You do not know whether it’s just you, but your body feels like it is set on fire with his light , feathery touches. He suddenly grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’ll find you later, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

You shyly nod, and Seokjin turns his back on both of you and walks further away to the other side of the gigantic house. After his disappearance, you quickly land a hard punch on Jungkook’s arm in agitation.

“You are fucking idiot and I hate you! How dare you interrupt us like that?! We were just about to kiss, you moron!”

Jungkook frowns, rubbing on the spot you just hit. “Hey! I am doing this for your own good. You are certainly going to regret kissing that guy! He is not that good, you’re better off without him.”

You hisses at his lackluster explanation. “I don’t know what crack you are sniffing, Jeon, but you just told me yesterday to attend this party and bone him. And now you’re pulling this shit?!” 

“I know! But I just don’t like it with him. I feel like he’s up to something.” You sigh after listening to his nonsense. Seriously, you can’t believe it. The first time you ever try to flirt and kiss someone you just met, and get a response—from Kim Seokjin, more to emphasize—at a party has to be interrupted by your fuckboy best friend. You have overestimated your luck.

At your sudden silence, Jungkook takes the time to raise his gaze and take in your appearance from head to toe. You are wearing your black sleeveless bodycon dress, the one you once drunkenly bought a year ago and always have been placed on the back of your closet. You compliment your dress with a pair of red heels, fresh from Lia’s closet. Your wavy hair is styled nicely, tied up that exhibits your neck line to the slightest of your collarbone. Your makeup is rather simple, but the red lips is just the perfect end-touch to your appearance today. You are simply beautiful.

“Why are you looking at me like that, you hobo?” You snort when feeling Jungkook’s gaze is too intimidating around your body—you fold your arms protectively on your chest. At your mocking question, Jungkook quickly throws his head somewhere else, sniffling his itchy nose. He seriously needs to catch himself before he erupts and makes a fool out of himself. But one he somehow forgets is that his body is way, way more truthful in speaking his mind than he really is. 

“Hey! How was it? Have you scored Seokjin yet?”

On your side, Lia shuffles with a bottle of beer and a knowing smirk. You sigh, shaking your head mournfully. Your wingman nearly yells.

“Why?! I voluntarily shove you too, back then! I saw you guys are chilling together so I decided to grab something for a sec and now you’re telling me he’s gone and you both did nothing?!”

To answer her question, you just vehemently point Jungkook. “This asshole decided to ruin everything. Just when it is about to happen, Lia! His lips were this close.” You mourn your lost chance, mimicking his lips hovering over yours. Jungkook quickly pushes your hand away from your lips with annoyance, eyebrows scrunched together in disgust. 

“You are creepy, and I am doing this for the sake of my frat brother. He is better off with someone else.” He pouts, his face looking severely annoyed and red. But it’s not just any kind of red. It’s vermillion, just the way you remember it from your elementary school, along with the childish pout on his lips. Ignoring your previous anger at him, you scrutinize his face closely and shift his face side by side with your palm, and he looks completely flustered. What in god’s name is happening?

“Hey, why are you so red, Jungkook? Are you okay?”

At the sudden attention thrown at him, Jungkook’s face just becomes even redder—if it is even possible. Realizing that he is in a very unfortunate situation at the moment, Jungkook quickly racks his brain for any reason to avoid your pesky questions. “I—I just think it’s too hot in here. Don’t you think so?”

“There’s literally four air conditioners in this room, Jungkook. It’s freezing cold in this place. Who the fuck has four ac in just a living room anyway? Damn you, capitalism!” You hissed, unamused with his lies. Jungkook grins, realizing how idiotic he must have sounded. At your last statement, you are suddenly self-conscious about the coldness in the room, rubbing your bare arms to create friction and warmth. He quickly notices your subtle gesture.

“Are you cold? Here, use my jacket.” Jungkook instinctively offers, not even waiting for your answer and unattaching the fabric of his body. At the kind gesture, you are touched as he seems to always understand you without you even need to say a thing. But when you see he is just wearing a body-fit black shirt underneath the denim jacket he was wearing—clearly, that jacket is going to go either way—you immediately snort. That bitch is just asking for an opportunity to flex the unnecessary muscle in front of the girls there, no need for you to feel flattered whatsoever.

“God, you’re both so fuckin domestic and boring. I’m off finding fun somewhere else, don’t wait for me~” Lia coos, walking to the other side of the house along with her bottle of beer. Well, Lia basically knows her ways in and out of frat parties, so you are not worried for her. If somehow Seokjin does not find his way back in thirty minutes, you promise yourself to hitch an uber as fast as you can and bolt out of that shitshow without making a scene. 

As the girl who somehow looks exactly like his ex exits their space, Jungkook reverts his focus back on you. You are busy looking anywhere else but him, your lips clamp on the glass to sip on the beverage. “Aren’t you tired with those heels? Let’s sit somewhere else.” He offers lowly.

You comply either way, somehow feeling a little bit suspicious over Jungkook’s sudden calm demeanor. You know him and how he is at parties. He should not be with you right now, instead joining his dumb jock friends and the girls at the other side playing body shots. This is borderline weird—you don’t want to interrupt him during his fuckboy activities, now both you and Jungkook are seated on the sofa in the corner of the room. 

“Are you okay, Jungkook? You are suspiciously silent.”

Jungkook clears his throat again, but all of a sudden loses all remaining composure when your finger delightfully skims his cheek. “And your face is red. There must be something wrong. The last time I saw you like this was—”

Jungkook knows what you are about to say but decided not to. He decided to ignore your suddenly awkward gesture and answers. “It’s not that, I—I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

You suddenly scoop his fingers and squeeze it lightly. “Is it because I am here? I swear Jungkook, you don’t have to accompany me. I’m perfectly fine on my own, you know it.”

“I want to accompany you.” Jungkook denies, not knowing how to speak his mind in any other way. His gaze is filled with unexpected sincerity, you don’t really know how and why. “I attend these parties, meet these people nearly everyday, Y/N. But they don’t have what we have. And now that you here, of course I would rather be with you.”

You don’t know whether it is the alcohol in your spine or the bass thumping likely on your heart, but you clearly feel something about the words. You feel important. You feel needed. And the way Jungkook looks at you right now? You feel like it’s somehow filled with new, raw emotions you never found on him before. The way his fingers are clasped on you—it’s like he is holding it for dear life. You can not deny that you are mildly confused by the sudden tension between you and Jungkook.

“Here you are, Y/N. I’ve been searching for you.” 

Seokjin is now standing in front of you and Jungkook, his eyes silently trailing on the fingers intertwined with you and your best friend, but refusing to comment. Realizing how awkward the moment must have been for the three of you, you swiftly jump on your feet, cheeks slightly reddening out of shyness while Seokjin still maintains the charming smile on his lips. “Can I take you somewhere else? This party is too loud. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“Mmm.. Okay.” You mutter, trying your best not to glance at Jungkook. You want to avoid adding more fuel to the awkwardness—well, you are too emotionally incapable to face whatever emotion you were having with Jungkook just now. He is just a thoughtful best friend, why are you even dwelling on it like it’s something new in your friendship? And being the coward you truly are, you answer the offer of Seokjin’s hand, following him to the outside without glancing even once at Jungkook. Even if all you can think about is him and what the hell just happened.

*

It’s been nearly two weeks, but you have yet to receive any message, or call, or anything from Jungkook. It’s not his fault, though—you could have started a conversation yourself, but you always find yourself hesitating while typing words on your screen. Maybe it’s because Jungkook has mostly been the one to start any conversation, and now nearly two weeks has passed since your last encounter and you have no idea how to start. Idiot.

You are still lounging in your bed, mustering yourself to be brave enough to say anything to Jungkook. When suddenly a message arrives, you are startled, swiftly clicking it open. But seeing the sender, you sigh in disappointment. It’s not Jungkook.

From : Seokjin

Hey, you are coming to the practice, right? [12:40]

Do you want to grab a bite after that? I have this coupon I need to use:) [12:41]

Ah, Seokjin. Since that fateful night in the party, you have been frequently hanging out with him. He is a senior in your department—he is even the assistant for some of your classes—so you do meet frequently. It is weird now that you are acquainted with him, he is everywhere, like literally everywhere. Especially because after that night, he asks you to join the taekwondo club based on your interest and previous experience. And who are you to reject? You like Taekwondo, and you like him. Talking about killing two birds with one stone, right?

But now you feel on the edge nearly all the time because your fuckboy best friend is missing in action. You want to tell him everything, but you feel like you have sinned him greatly for ditching him that night. It’s even hard to find out why! All you know that he might just find another girl to fuck with that night, and both of you know that the only thing in first that invite you to the party is because Seokjin is there—even Jungkook propose you to bone him! You seriously hate yourself for feeling this way.

“Jungkook, you are a complete moron!” You hiss, throw the phone to the desk and dip your face to the pillow.

Okay, new plan. It’s better for you to just meet and confront him directly. So tomorrow after class, you are going to meet him after his 8am, and just point and blame him for ghosting your friendship. Well, he is not ghosting, but that’s not the point! It’s a brilliant plan, yet you find yourself strangely terrified for what is about to happen.

*

Tomorrow morning, you are going to ask Lia to walk to class together, yet you find she is already missing, bed is made and cleaned. It’s weird to see her wake up so early since she is absolutely not a morning person, but you shrug it anyway, expecting to see her in class. Still, even after the professor arrives, you find her regular place beside you is empty. You send her a message, but it is met with no reply. Skipping class is not really rare in her case, so you just silently attend, mind filled with the plan you will execute later on.

After class, as previously planned, you directly head to Jungkook’s faculty. You can remember it vividly, Jungkook’s class for the morning is always running late due to his old as hell professor, who talks extremely slowly and loves to discuss anything but the topic he is supposed to teach, hence your plan. You are going to wait in front of his class, supposedly asking to grab brunch together before accusing him for ignoring you altogether.

But then, what you find while walking on the bridge connecting the two faculties catch you by surprise. It is Lia, talking to a man who's back you easily identify as Jungkook—you can detect those small waist everywhere, hidden cladly in a slim fit dress shirt. Both of them are engaged in serious talk, with Jungkook’s face a little bit tense and Lia’s face looking like she completely had enough.

Lia? And Jungkook? Your eyes must be deceiving you right now.

With all will, you march onto them, and even the fact that they are talking, just the two of them without you is weird enough, they don’t even realize your presence until you are tapping on Jungkook’s shoulder with a suspecting gaze. The moment he finds you, he unconsciously jumps a few steps back with a loud gasp, exactly like whenever he has been caught doing something bad. “Y/N! You’re here!”

“Yes. I was just about to catch you after your class, Jungkook, maybe we can grab a bite together.” The moment you let out those words, you heard Lia snickers and Jungkook immediately throws her a look. 

“Finally. You both should eat together! and I don’t know—maybe be truthful at each other? or anything, I don’t care. I’m out of here.” She walks out, not minding your voice calling out to her. You seriously have zero idea what she means, but Jungkook quickly places his hands on both your shoulders—desperate for your focus, his cheeks now colored in bright shade of red.

“Don’t mind her. Let’s go eat.”

You stop your track against Jungkook’s force of pulling you away, scrutinizing his face closer with a worried gaze. “Jungkook, you are acting weird. And you are sooo red. Are you sure you are okay?”

Jungkook hastily nods, pulling you to the place you both usually grab coffee at, not really far from his faculty. On the way, both of you still fall in silence, and one thing your eyes could focus on is his fingers, tightly intertwined on yours—the same gesture he has been doing for around ten years now. 

Is it weird that now you definitely do not feel nothing from just holding his hands?

*

Both of you are seated on your usual spot—near the window inside the coffee shop, right after ordering. “So. Are you going to tell me where you have been these past two weeks?” You questions, sipping on your usual choice of espresso. Jungkook grimaces, his fingers clasping against each other nervously. Not that he expects you to beat around the bush.

“I am just kinda busy. With practice and studying.” He silently answers, eyes still not looking anywhere else but you. And what kind of best friend are you not to notice that?

You nod cryptically, decide against pushing it.  Even though skeptic, what he said does seems plausible. “So, what’s up?’

“Just the regular.”

Your left eyebrows raise. “No news on your fuckboy conquest of one night stands?”

Jungkook eyebrows scrunched. “You’re disgusting.”

You are baffled at that. “What?! I am disgusting? Jungkook, you have been explicitly telling me stories about these girls you sleep with for already two years now. What are you, playing coy?“

Jungkook sighs tiredly. Instead of answering, he reaches for your glass of espresso, sipping it before wincing due to the bitterness—like a fucking moron doing his usual thing. It seems already too familiar, so you just shrug it and focus on the initial topic instead. “I just… I haven’t been sleeping with anyone these past two weeks, okay?”

You send him a cryptic look, and Jungkook complains in frustration. “I am not lying! I am not an animal, okay? I am tired sometimes, and I am allowed to not do that anymore.”

“Jungkook, there is no way you are not going to parties and not sleeping with these girls. You have been doing these for two years. What gives?” You push, as you know there must be something he is hiding from you. Jungkook sighs, looking at you with a gaze filled with strange emotions.

“I—I haven’t been to parties too. Look, I am just not feeling it, okay? I just.. I just needed a break.”

Looking at Jungkook, it is difficult to even imagine him not doing all his usual popular jock activities. And now he told you he hasn’t been to parties for two weeks? It’s really unlike him. He hasn’t missed a single party for these past two years since high school to the point you have a hard time remembering what he used to do on Friday nights. Something must have happened, that’s for certain.

“Do you want to tell me why?” You ask him carefully, your fingers reaching out to his. He looks up at you, something in his face tells you that something indeed has happened. And suddenly, your mind flashes to the event that just occurred. Could it be?

“Does it have anything to do with Lia? This morning, when you met her?”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge, his hands are harshly pulled to his lap, away from you. You can detect his chest pumped, heaving too much air in, eyes nervously scanning away. Too many reactions for a mere ‘nothing happened’. “I—I don’t know? What do you mean?”

“It’s weird! You were literally avoiding her before, Jungkook. But then I saw you meeting her alone. What happened? Tell me.” You persuade, determine to get to the end of it. But the answer you are given is only a nervous shake of head, with shade of red slowly creeping in his face. Another trait that you know from Jungkook, is his inability to hide his feelings—at least in front of you.

Due to his prolonged silence for his orders arrival, you silently guess what might have happened with him. A flash of unpleasant image enters your head and you wince internally. God, please don’t let it be true. You even have a hard time to spell those words. 

“Jungkook, please tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”

Jungkook’s face is flushed in a bright shade of red, as he shakes his head vigorously. “You are crazy. I did not sleep with your best friend.”

A sense of relief washes you. “So tell me what it is! What is it that you can’t possibly tell me? It must be it, or do you expect me to believe you somehow have feelings for her?!” You mindlessly intrude, but now seeing Jungkook’s face is vermillion red and how silent he is for a few seconds after the accusation, you can’t even believe there is a chance it might be true.

You hesitantly approach, voice caught up midways. “You… do you have feelings for Lia?”

Jungkook stares back at you, and you can see a hint of sadness on his eyes. Internally, he is terribly conflicted. He doesn’t know what he can say to you. He already has the answer to your query on the tip of his tongue, clearer than anything else but he cannot do that. It would be unfair to everyone, especially you. 

In life, Jungkook believes he is a risk taker—he is taught that way, ever since he was a little kid. Risk is what makes life even better and interesting. But how can he gamble with what you both have right now? He could never take that risk for what you have right now with him. It’s too much in stake—a game not worthy to play, and he knows his chances like the back of his hand. So he forces a smile, mustering all his might to say something that he is well aware does not reflect what he is truly feeling.

“I—I think so..”

Listening to his answer, you nod slowly, not knowing exactly how you feel. You are happy for him—for Jungkook to finally find someone he likes, someone who can get him off the meaningless sex routine he has been accustomed to for awhile now. And truth to be told? Lia is one of the best girls you ever acquaintanced with. If one thing you can ever count on, is that both of your best friends are great people that somehow grealy deserve each other. Lia is pretty, smart, fun to talk and party with, and allegedly good at sex—you don’t really now, it’s just what she claims to be—and Jungkook is the kindest soul out there—even if he is a certified douchebag once in a while—but they really fit each other well.

But is it disappointment in the pit of your stomach?

Noticing how silent you have become, Jungkook quickly takes the opportunity and changes the topic he instantly regrets. “So, how are things with Seokjin? I hear you both are hitting it well.”

Your throat feels constricted, so you clear it, hoping your stupefiedness is unrecognizable. “Yup. He is a good guy. I am now in the Taekwondo club as well, so… yeah I’ve been seeing him a lot too.”

“I am glad you finally got into the club! I remember how much of a pain you are, always go on and on talking about Taekwondo.” He rigidly smiles, eyes still trained on the dish served in front of him, cutting it in pieces. God, he is seriously digging his own grave with this fake supportive best friend shit.

“Yeah, whose fault is it that I got off Taekwondo in the first place, huh?”

Jungkook sighs, resting his utensils on the plate. He is aware of it very well, he knows what a fucking coward he has been since little, which may had forced you giving up on taekwondo—something you really loved. You can’t even imagine how guilty he is about everything. You have been the one thing keeping him sane, yet he always thinks himself on the recipient side of the friendship. And the midst of his current vulnerable state, he feels greatly undeserving of you. Who is he kidding? You might even regret saving him from humiliation on that fateful day, ten years ago.

Sensing that your joke may have not been taken well by Jungkook, you reach out to him, placing your palm on his, trying to soothe the indignation palpable on his face. “Jungkook, I am sorry.. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.. I know. It’s okay.” Jungkook answers, lips pursed into a tight line. You can see that he is indeed piqued, and truthfully, it is your fault. He always blames himself for the time he felt you sacrificed so much for him—like Taekwondo, for example. You convince him that it is not his fault since you can always go back to Taekwondo again—you just choose not to, but he always blames himself, thinking of the what ifs. You should not have brought it up and joked about it.

The silence then ensues, the tension between you and him thickens like you can slice it and choke it down your throat. You were about to apologize again, right when your phone rings and displays Seokjin’s name on the screen .Jungkook definitely saw the name too himself. You are hesitating whether to answer or not, before Jungkook answers it for you rigidly, jaw clenched tight. 

“Answer it.” 

When you are in the middle of conversation with Seokjin—and unimportant one, Jin is just asking what are you doing because he is bored in the middle of intensive taekwondo training, so you just casually tell him about grabbing a brunch with Jungkook—your best friend quickly flips few bills from his wallet, raising up from his seat. You swiftly hold him back, cutting off the ongoing call without even saying goodbyes. “Jungkook, where are you going?”

“I guess you must be somewhere with Seokjin, right? Let’s go, don’t want to keep the handsome boy waiting.”

The way Jungkook pronounces every word is heavy with sarcasm, and it wounds you. Is he seriously telling you that you are going to ditch him for Seokjin? Dry tears are lounging on the corner of your eyes till your visions are blurry, and it is hard to even breathe. How dare he play that game to you? Does he really think he has any right to treat you like that?

Jungkook must have noticed your contorted face and inevitable tears, and he is quick to apologize. “I am sorry, I didn't mean it like—”

“Save it.” You curtly cut him, slapping a few bills on the table. “It’s my turn to pay now. And you are correct. Thank you for that, I will find that handsome boy right now.”

If Jungkook calls you again, you are unable to hear it. Too pissed off to even breathe, your head feels like it’s about to explode along with tears that are quick to rain on your parade.

*

After you storm off the brunch with Jungkook, your afternoon class is fortunately cancelled. Instead of going with your words and meeting Seokjin, you decide you are too emotionally exhausted and head back home. So here you are, chilling in your apartment alone, watching netflix and eating popcorn after completing a long nap of five hours straight. Your phone is far ducked inside your room, as you notice Jungkook has blown off your phone for quite a while now, and you are this close to answer it so you throw it away. That bastard definitely deserves a lesson for pulling an unfunny passive aggressive prank like that.

While you are in the middle of refilling your bowl for the second batch of popcorn, your apartment door is swung opened. It is Lia, with a huge triumphant smile on her face. “Look what I brought us!”

You don’t even know the reason why, the moment you are looking at Lia’s face, you immediately remember Jungkook’s claim that he has feelings for this girl. For your best friend. For a girl who looks exactly like his ex. Damn, did you really sound that bitter?

“What is it?” You fake enthusiasm, even if what you really want to do is sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Chicken and beer! Not just chicken, this is the exact brand and flavor you like! I think since we rarely hang out nowadays, tonight we can watch bad movies together and eat and drink unhealthy food and drinks we probably will regret in the morning!” She cheerfully shouts, resting the packages of food on the table, running to her room to change into comfy clothes.

You bite your lips, regretting how undeserved she is for your cynical thoughts. You are greatly touched by her mindful gesture. Albeit harsh and sometimes cold, Lia is really affectionate at times, kind and selfless to her friends, especially you. You can’t even count how much she helped you, saving you from an embarrassment or humiliation due your sloppy and forgetful trait. The mind is indeed a dangerous place, and you should limit any possible toxicity that might be planted and grow in it.

So you and Lia jump to watch some chick flick which she always denies to like, but somehow always in tears after. One thing that you might not realize is that you often find yourself staring at her, thinking about how easy it is to like her. She is really the dream girl. Pretty, strong, funny and independent. She’s basically perfect. You even doubt Jungkook deserves her, seriously.

“Honey, another look and I think I might just go gay for you.” Lia sighs, resting the chicken drumstick on the plate. You avert your eyes on the TV, shy of being caught staring. “What is it? Are you falling for me? I swear—”

“No, I just.. Nothing.”

You are silent, busy gulping the beer to hide how flustered you are right now. Damn, are you really that obvious? “There must be something. Y/N, I will not push, but you know you can tell me everything. Nothing will surprise me, seriously.”

You nod, throwing your attention back to the movie. But not even five minutes, the curiosity gets the best of you, so you decide to mum a question to her. 

“Lia, what do you think about Jungkook?”

You kind of wish she does not hear you, but it is instantly cancelled since she answers. Yup, she can hear your silly question, loud and clear.

“Jungkook? He is hot, good looking and kind. A little dumb and blabber a little bit too much, but I think it’s manageable.” She nonchalantly answers, suddenly her prodding eyes are thrown at you. “Where does this suspicious question come from?”

“Nothing! I just want to know what you think of him.” You bitterly smile. Yes, definitely that and only that.

Another ten minutes pass and you open another question, still full of hesitation whether it’s best to ask or just keep it to yourself, yet it’s literally killing you so you ask anyway. “Hypothetically speaking. If… I don’t know, Jungkook confesses to you he likes you. Would you accept it?”

Lia looks at you strangely — like you have grown another head, when her face suddenly brightens, an imaginary light bulb practically pictured on her head. A sleazy smile is worn on her lips, her eyebrows wiggling playfully. “Ah! So that is about all this. Finally!”

“Of course! Jungkook is a nice guy, he is kind, respectful, albeit a little annoying and dumb, he is hot, which kinda makes it even. He listens well, and strangely gives good advice.” Lia brightly smiles, literally like the woman who endorses cooking items in the supermarket to middle aged mothers. “I think anyone having a monogamous relationship with that manchild is very, very lucky!”

You do notice how exaggerated and odd her sentence is, but when you are about to reply, few soft knocks are heard on your door. So keeping the words back, you wake up and mindlessly open it.

Well, It turns out to be Seokjin, and he could arguably be the last person you think would be standing in front of your doorstep now.

“Seokjin? What are you doing here, at this time of the night?”

Seokjin answers with a serene smile, his eyes sparkling amidst the dim hallway. “I am sorry to be at your doorstep this late. I just… I just want to talk to you. Is that weird?”

Your heart literally skips a beat at that. Seriously? Seokjin comes to your apartment at 10pm just to talk to you? Is this even real? “You can’t just call me? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but I don’t want to tire you. You just finished your crazy tiring training!”

“I’ve been trying to contact you, but I went into voicemail. So I guess, more reason to meet you, right?” Seokjin shyly smiles, scratching his nape. God, have you ever mentioned that he is really cute? “I hope I’m not a bother.”

“No! Of course not. But my roommate is here. Do you want to go somewhere else? I think one restaurant near here is still open.” You quickly offer and Seokjin agrees with a nod. You are hurriedly about to grab your purse, when Lia walks out to the doorstep, meeting Seokjin.

“Hi! You must be the roommate. I’m Seokjin.” Seokjin offers a hand along with a charming smile. Lia receives it with confusion written on her face. 

“Are you both going somewhere?” She asks, puzzled. You slightly run to the door, hoping there is nothing to be discussed amongst the three of you anymore.

“Yes! We are. I’ll be back soon, see you!” You quickly smile and close the door right on her face. Damn, you don’t know what has gotten into you, but you really can’t seem to shake that cautious feeling. It really needs time before you even consider letting Seokjin hang out with your nosy friends. Like Lia, or even Jungkook.

Especially Jungkook.

*

Jungkook is sitting with Taehyung, his project mate on the corner of a restaurant near your apartment. He has been trying to contact you since afternoon but you still haven’t replied to his call nor messages, it makes him feel guilty beyond words. He shouldn’t have snapped like that at you, you literally did nothing and he blew everything way out of proportion—especially when that dickhead Seokjin called you. And now he is nearly losing his mind, because he doesn’t want to spend another minute in your probable wrath. How can everything be so messed up?

“Dude, stop calling her. She’ll call you soon. Why is this such a big deal?” Taehyung groans when Jungkook relentlessly dial your number once more. He doesn’t even know why, but another call you ignore, he might combust and run to your apartment, begging for reconciliation. He is seriously just that desperate.

The call fails, yet Jungkook is still tapping on the call again button when Taehyung meddles in his pathetic best friend obsession. “Hey, stop! Why are you doing this, dude? You like this girl or what?” 

At Taehyung’s accusation, Jungkook was silent. “I don’t know. But I can’t stop, Tae. Or I’ll go crazy.”

Taehyung sighs, giving up and instead going back to his work. As long as the tasks are divided, he would not be bothered by his friend’s crazy fixation towards a so-called-friend. Seriously, why do people even want to monogamously date? It’s such a hassle, and unimportant. Girlfriends are liabilities, and Jungkook of all people should know it!

After being rejected for another three calls, Jungkook finally gives up, slamming the phone on the desk. “I give up. She’ll never answer. Fuck it, I need to work.”

Taehyung glances at that guy trying to focus on the task in front of him. Everyone can see how out of place he is—if there’s a guarantee Jungkook will not land a punch to his precious face, he really wants to tease him right now it is hilarious. Damn, his friend is whipped.

Amongst the silence, Jungkook’s phone suddenly rings. Throwing the thousand page book in his grasps right away, he answers it like a madman—probably without even checking the caller. It must not be the girl of his dreams, since his hopeful puppy face instantly sombers.

“Of course not! How can I, we just got into a fight.”

After listening to the faint caller’s word, his knuckles intimidatingly whiten due, jaw tightening. “Seriously? They are leaving now?”

A few banter and the call ends, but Taehyung can see how bothered the guy is after the call. He is no longer bothered to even pretend he is working, instead his eyes hollow, zooming out to nothingness. But another five minutes, a slight tingling from the entrance bell is heard and Jungkook feels like his heart is about to fall out he instinctively ducks his head. Taehyung tries to steal a look to the source of attention, and it’s you, the girl he has seen a lot previously with Jungkook and Seokjin… Together while holding hands.

Oh, oh. This is bad.

Jungkook really should just storm out. He is never the masochist type, but somehow curiosity gets the best of him so he stays, his work is completely ignored. He focuses on glaring to the other side of the restaurant where you and Seokjin sit near the window, nonchalant to his presence while lively and affectionately talking to each other. And for fuck sake, can fucking Seokjin get his hands off you? It takes everything in his power to ignore the need to slap those dirty paws away.

“Jungkook, we should go..” Taehyung silently pleads, noticing how tense his friend has become since you and Seokjin arrived. But Jungkook is unable to hear or sense anything, was too focused on probing both of you while trying not to be caught.

It is a rather short meal, as you and Seokjin only ordered a dessert to share and Jungkook is irritated. You finished a bowl of ice cream in one sitting and you can’t seriously get a dessert for your own? Disgusting—After approximately thirty minutes, you and Seokjin head out, hand by hand with a sickeningly shy smile on both of your faces.

Jungkook thinks that is the end of it, thank God he can finally breathe. But how wrong he was to even think he will remain unscathed, because as both of you stand in front of the restaurant, Seokjin bravely pulls you closer by the nape and crashes his lips on yours. It feels like a punch to Jungkook’s gut, seeing how blissful both of you are engaged in a sweet kiss, your hands on his cheek and his hands clasped on your waist. There’s the anger, the jealousy raging inside Jungkook’s chest at the moment that it’s even difficult to breathe. 

As now both of you and Seokjin have left the scene, Taehyung forces himself from the tense situation to steal a glance at Jungkook. Just seeing him—staring at the ceiling with no expression whatsoever—radiates the devastation and frustration he is currently experiencing. God, Taehyung hopes he will never have to experience that kind of emotion in his life.

*

During ten years of friendship with Jungkook, you never knew what it feels to have him avoid you. But now that you are exactly being treated like a plague by him, you wish you were warned beforehand because it fucking hurts. And you have no idea how or why, and you have no one to console your loss — not even Seokjin, or Lia. Well it mostly because you don’t want them to realize how fucking dependent you are to Jungkook, it’s pathetic.

“Kitten, you are spazzing out. Are you sure you are okay?”

Seokjin’s words are nearly lost on you, and the moment his hand is on yours, you unconsciously flinch. He is now examining you, with a gaze full of worry. 

“If you are feeling not okay, we can just go home.” Seokjin kindly offers, but you shake your head fervently, not wanting to wallow again in your sadness. You can’t take this away from Seokjin, when it’s his dearest fellow frat brothers—especially the seniors who are having the party. Seokjin as the angel he is will not let you be alone in your apartment.

Since the day you meet Jungkook for brunch, a week has passed and it seems like you and him are in the middle of a cold war. It’s not like you are not speaking to each other, but every word coming from him speaks distance and you are tired and just stop trying—yet it doesn’t lessen the pain. And now you are going with Seokjin for his frat party, and you know Jungkook will be there—it might be the reason you are simultaneously eager and despise going to the party. You are terribly anxious about facing him, but you can’t back down when you know you did nothing wrong.

In front of the frat house, Seokjin holds your hand and brushes his lips to your temple as an encouragement. “Let’s go in, shall we?”

You throw your gaze at Seokjin’s side profile. Seriously, what did you do to deserve him? He is seriously the kindest soul out there, always looking for your best interest. He never hesitates to go big for you, yet you can help but to feel guilty. He is too kind. Too perfect. And you can’t shake this feeling of undeserving and owning him everything to him.

The moment your feet step into the party, your eyes instantly fall to someone so familiar yet so strange—Jungkook. He is leaning on a sofa, talking animatedly with two girls on either side, leeching to him like they are willing to take turns to suck him dry. You roll your eyes in disgust. What were you expecting? That Jungkook might go celibate and seriously get a grip on his life? You must be drunk. That bastard can’t even face the fact that he likes someone and actually does something about it.

Yes. He likes Lia. But being a total fuckboy is not what someone should do when he seriously likes someone, right? You just want the best for him, not wanting Jungkook to waste another time when he can have someone he truly likes instead of engaging in another one night stand.

While Seokjin is chatting with his group of friends, you excuse yourself to grab a drink. He, as the gentleman he is, offers to accompany you, but you refuse—mentioning it will only take a short while. And after finally settling in the kitchen where you can finally have a space for your own, you heave few deep breaths. You do not know exactly why, but being surrounded among strangers always sends you to a nervous bundle. 

That’s exactly the reason why you always avoid going to parties. You wanted to tell Seokjin about the anxiety you feel, but you feel like it’s too much of a burden to throw on him so you just swallow everything and hope for the best—but now you regret everything. At least previously, you have Lia and you are assured she is going to take care of you. Not that you don’t think Seokjin will not, but the trust issue you have for nearly everyone is not going to go away when you literally only know him for one freaking month.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Suddenly, a familiar voice is heard and you look behind, seeing Jungkook with a worried gaze, his palm soothing your back. “You don’t really look good. Does the party bother you?”

You bask in his appearance, and sense the anxiety building up inside your head crashes into a loud sob. Seeing such a familiar face, worried about your well-being somehow instantly relieves you, and the emotion is excessive and you inevitably feel the urge to cry. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry.” Jungkook whispers, pulling you inside his arms and enveloping you with the ever-so-familiar warmth. His fingers forming circles in your back, just the way he used to calm you on every rainy day, while you clutch into his jacket for dear life. 

“Why do you even come here, you idiot? You should have let me know.”

His ignorant statement somehow flares the anger inside you, and you irritatedly push him away with both your palms. Jungkook is a jerk, and you do not deserve any of this. “How can I let you know, Jungkook? When it’s crystal clear you are avoiding me. I haven’t heard anything other than your one two word messages. I can’t even call you!” 

The guilt is definitely painted on his face, confirming a guess that has been going around your head. He truly was avoiding you. “I—I don’t mean it like that…”

“What wrong did I do, Jungkook? How can you do this to me?” You whimper sadly. All the frustration inside you is coming out. “I know I was wrong, but this is not how we resolve things, Jungkook. You know it. And you can’t even tell me what’s wrong directly to my face, or even try to reconcile our friendship, instead you go back to partying, eye fucking two girls at the same time when I’m standing right here. Do you even know how it makes me feel?”

“It’s not that!” Jungkook defends himself, feeling the obnoxious guilt seeping inside his heart. He feels at fault now seeing how heartbroken you look, and the fact that he is the one causing them. It’s like he is finally awoken, that he has been selfishly trying to redeem himself from a one-sided love for his childhood best friend without thinking about how you feel. But in his defense, he thought you would be okay! 

“I...I just thought now that you have Seokjin, you won’t be needing me no more. He seems to be such a better companion than I am. And I know you like him so much, Y/N, I feel like...”

“Hey. Are you okay?” 

All of a sudden, Seokjin appears in the kitchen, staring at both you and Jungkook standing in front of each other with somber looks on each of your faces. He definitely was about to say something, but like he sobers up and puts up a thin smile and reaches out to you. “You take a long time to get a drink, so I thought I should check up on you.”

You quickly grab the nearest bottle of beer, giving a short, civilized smile to Jungkook to handle the pain throbbing inside his chest. You desperately need space away from him, swearing that you would do anything to avoid breakdown in the middle of a frat party filled with tons of strangers. “Excuse me.”

“Hey, Seokjin! Get your girl, we are going to play!”

That trademark voice was definitely Hoseok’s, gesturing you to join the circle of group with countless shots in the center—which is literally a recipe for a disastrous night. Seokjin is about to wave him off, intending to focus on your well being instead, but that is seriously the last thing you want to do right now. All you need is alcohol—lots of them and avoid whatever internal conflict you are having since that’s what you do best. Hence, you pull the older guy closer to the group cheering them on, forcing him to sit down beside you. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you are not comfortable.” Seokjin consoles, his hands smoothing on your thigh. 

“But I want to!” You fake a cheer, pretending to sound enthusiastic. “I haven’t done this in a long time. I wanna do this again.”

Jimin—one of the other frat brothers, is counting the people and after clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “We need one more. Hey, Jungkook, come here!”

You quickly snap your head towards your so-called best friend, who just came out from the kitchen from your previous unpleasant encounter. Just a glance and you can see how messed up he looks right now. Jungkook seriously was about to flip Jimin off, instead wallowing himself in sadness and regret. But seeing you sitting in the circle, he gets no other choice but to accept the offer. All that he can think about is the annoying frat buddies of his who might force you to do the things you despise, along with your occasional social anxiety that might ruin everything for you. He will never forget himself if they happen without him there, when he had the opportunity to. He’ll do it, regardless of your current distaste for him.

“Okay! So we are going to play Never Have I Ever!” Jimin shouts, and your stomach dips in nerves. God, are you seriously going to do it? But then you feel a certain concerned stare is directed towards you, and your pride forces you to act nonchalant. You are not going to let Jungkook think he needs to babysit you again. The previous thing in the kitchen is humiliating enough, you don’t need another second. 

“It’s the usual. if you have done it before, drink a shot! Don’t worry, we have abundant alcohol supply and our dearest freshmen right here, kindly volunteer to refill the glasses.” You emphatically look amongst the fellow freshmen, standing outside the circle with bottles of alcohol in their hands. God, this reminds you why frat people are seriously the worst.

“I’ll start! Okay. Never have I ever sexted someone during class.”

A series of groans are heard in the circle, few people—some that you know are Taehyung, Hoseok, and even the smartest of the frat boys, Namjoon bottoms up their respective drinks. Seriously? They pay tuition to sext during class. What a disgrace.

And of course Jungkook’s glass is empty too. What did you expect?

Next is Hoseok. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm before!”

Well, that one is on you, but you are just glad to be able to finally drink. And damn is it good to finally have alcohol buzzing inside your system—it’s been way too long. After drinking his own, Seokjin offers to exchange your empty glass into a full one. You send a thankful smile his way.

“Never have I ever sent a nude to someone.”

Well, that's correct on your previous relationship with a dickhead in your high school. Wow, you feel the slight kick, but since your tolerance is quite high, your tongue still craves for more.

“Never have I had a threesome before.”

Your eyes curiously find Jungkook, as he bottoms up his third glass of the game, with only a few of the people there drink—Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and one of the unknown girls. Not that you did not expect it, but you find yourself mildly uncomfortable and somehow disappointed with the facts. He is Jungkook. You should have known it.

“Never have I ever roleplay mommy / daddy kink during sex.”

You detect Seokjin shyly drinking his glass, and you fake a gasp. The alcohol on your spine and the great atmosphere are a success in bringing up your mood. “Wow, I knew it! It’s all so clear, you must have daddy kink!” You let out a belly laugh as he softly pinches your waist, still abashed to the new found fact. What you miss is Jungkook shooting daggers both your ways and Taehyung on his side giving him a few comforting taps on the back.

“Never have I ever liked someone else when I was in a relationship!”

The question somehow kills every fun you have, as you silently recall your previous relationships. There was definitely something on your mind, but you quickly pushed them back. No. It did not make sense and still does, and it was something you chose to bury a long time ago. Pretending it never exists is way easier.

But when you straighten your back to regain your sense, your eyes instantly find Jungkook sipping on his alcohol whilst glaring at you, before throwing his back and bottoming it up. Not only that, even after he slams the glass back on the table he is still giving you the same intent stare. What does he want from you? If he is trying to mess with your mind it is not working—so you faked nonchalance, waiting for the next question, yet your mind is busy thinking about who might be on the receiving end of Jungkook’s feelings while he was in a relationship with his bitch of an ex.

The game goes on for another round, and boy was it a mess. As time goes by, the questions are getting out of hand, until a point you seriously think you need to see your therapist due to how traumatic the questions are. During the game you only drink five glasses, which is still not enough for you—and Seokjin, who apparently has a great alcohol resistance as well. The game ended when Hoseok and Taehyung were hugging each other with two bottles of vodka between them, noisily faking smooches sound to each other.

When Seokjin offers to walk away from the rainsacked table, one of the friends whom you recognize as Yoongi holds him back with a tactful smile. “Hey, Seokjin! I’m bored, Let’s play!”

“Yoongi, I think that’s enough play. I think me and Y/N are just going to talk.” Seokjin calmly refuses, when Jungkook comes to Yoongi's side, resting his arm on the smaller man with his face bright red, looking totally buzzed.

“Ugh, that’s so boring! Why don’t we just play a game!”

You snort when you can smell his breath reeking with booze. No wonders though, he only missed two shots during that godforsaken game. “Jungkook—”

“No! I want to play!” He childishly pouts again. Here goes Jungkook acting like a nine year old whenever he is drunk. You roll your eyes agitatedly. Can he grow up already? “I want to beat you and this boyfriend of yours. Let’s play beer pong!”

“That’s a great idea, Jungkook! I think for the prize the winner can ask the loser for anything.” Yoongi shows his gummy smiles forming a smirk. Seokjin was about to discard the offer when his friend cleverly ignited another fire. “What, you don’t think you can win? Or do you just don’t get the nerves to? Too scared to be beaten down in front of your girlfriend?”

Somehow the conversation is loud enough that it attracts people, and now everyone is wooing the provocative statement from Yoongi. He has been silent throughout the previous game, and you don’t even know why he is so keen about playing beer pong with you and Seokjin. Can’t he just ask someone else instead? But you are assured, since one thing you learned from athletes like Seokjin, he is not easily provoked by such cheap statements. 

“You are on.” He grimaces as you gape, not expecting the sudden plottwist. How can he just approve? Damn him, you seriously do not want anything to do with these frat boys! “But I swear to god if you lose, I am going to force you to kiss this manchild for fucking five minutes in front of everybody.”

“Well that’s not really a punishment if I will enjoy it, but go on.” Jungkook drunkenly shouts, Yoongi palpably shudders beside him. The crowd laughter goes wild, as other freshmen—you seriously really feel bad for them now—sets up the red solo cups on the table. Your head spins in confusion, as you literally have not once played beer pong before. It’s a lost cause, and you are going to be punished by those evil spawns!

“Seokjin, I seriously can’t play for shit!” You hisses in worry while Seokjin smiles as an assurance.

“No worry, Y/N. I am a reigning champion of beer pong is this godforsaken frat. We will surely win.” He holds you by the shoulder. You send a judging gaze to Jungkook as he pretends to look nonchalant, confidently rubbing his palm together. Damn, you really want to smack him in that idiotic drunk ass face of his. What a jerk! You just hope Jin is truly as good as he claims, because if not, you are completely, utterly fucked. And not even a good one.

The first thing you did wrong was to believe Seokjin is just as good as his words, because Yoongi—who you just knew is the captain of the basketball team—completely triumphs him through every shot. And you already in peace with the fact that your aiming skill is the worst thing that could happen to you, so there goes scoring zero. That bastard Jungkook, somehow amidst the drunkenness is able to score a lot as well—probably due to the fact that he also plays football. Now that you think about it, the game itself does not make sense. And not only that you lose, the glasses you shove down your throat are quite a lot, to the point you can finally feel the buzz of alcohol in your spine. Just fucking perfect!

“Yes! We win!” Jungkook gleefully shouts, seeing the last red cup in front of your table has the shiny yellow ball in it. Seokjin sighs in defeat, quickly taking the last glass and drinking it, completely forfeited. You groan, rubbing your aching temple. This is gonna be rough.

“Wow! Do we finally have the winner here?!” Yoongi shouts with mirth, as the crowd woo. “Well, I don’t want to hold you back, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I am just giving you a taste of your medicine. You can now make out with the bride.” Everyone snickers, and you are too shy to even look at Seokjin. “But we don’t want porn here, so just three minutes?”

“Are you okay with this? I can make him stop.” Seokjin asks calmly, as Yoongi snickers about his friend’s cringey thoughtfulness. Well now that everyone’s looking at you, you ain’t really got any choice, right? So you hesitantly nod as a permission, before Seokjin encloses his lips on you, and all you can sense is the deafening shouts of the crowd.

And Jungkook’s deflated back while exiting the room.

*

Two hours after the last disastrous beer pong and a three-minutes exhibitionist makeout session with Seokjin, you are shocked to still find yourself sitting at the frat party. Seokjin has asked you multiple times if you want to head home, but you refuse, feeding him lies about somehow still enjoying the party. Truthfully, you don’t even know what he is holding you back. You stopped drinking after the game, instead drinking lots of water to avoid a bad hangover in the morning. The party is dull, especially when you are no longer drinking and alone—Seokjin is asked by a few fellow final year friends to join them for a drink outside, so you assure him you’ll be okay staying back. All you do now is keep an eye on your so-called best friend, shoving alcohol down his throat like there’s no tomorrow. There were few girls around him, but the way Jungkook was not having it and instead focusing on the drinks—his nonchalance probably bore them so they fled, locking on other frat boys as targets. It is only Taehyung now with him, who looks just as drunk as he is. Literal dumbasses.

Amongst the loud bass thumping inside the room, your phone vibrates. You quickly excuse yourself from a couple who is now making out beside you—god, you seriously thought the girl was interested in talking to you before, but now she just ignores you while shoving her tongue down the boy’s throat!—and walks out to pick up the call. Against your expectation, it is Jungkook’s brother, Junghyun on the other side of the call..

“Y/N! Y/N, I am so glad you pick up!” Junghyun shouts loudly, sounds greatly relieved after listening to your greetings. You chuckle, realize it has been quite a long time since you heard from him. You desperately need to visit him sometimes, instead of constantly hanging out with his idiot younger brother.

“Hey, do you know where Jungkook is? We actually have to fly to Busan tomorrow morning, so we expect him to be home now. He even brought the car with him!” Junghyun shouts filled with stress, then you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. He will fly tomorrow morning, so why did he even bother to come to the party? You scoff in disbelief.

“Yes, oppa. I am in the same party with him, but he is not looking real good.” You answer, looking inside the frat house. Well, not that his brother is unaware of Jungkook’s current trait of drinking and partying—not that he supports it—but you just think that he would be more responsible in his choices, and the your disappointment at him is vivid as a day. Making his family worried, all because he just wants to party which he nearly does every week? It’s shallow even for him. “But I’ll get him home now, no worries.”

Junghyung release a relieved sigh. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you!”

After a shot goodbye, you close the call and furiously march inside the frat house, right to Jungkook’s side. He is still drinking, but now looking severely drunk while unreasonably laughing with Taehyung, and now Jimin as an addition. Three drunk guys are never a good combination. “Jungkook, you fucking idiot, let’s go home!” 

With that Taehyung whistle loudly, tapping Jungkook on the back fervently, pepping him. “It’s Y/N! God, finally she is asking you to get something-something!” You scrunch your eyebrows at the drunk ass guy with a reddened face. You are earnestly curious for what booze he is having so you can avoid drinking it forever.

“You want to go home? Let’s go home, babygirl.” Jungkook lowly whispers whilst standing up, but before you can even react to such provocative words, he limps—probably dizzy from consuming too much alcohol. You circle his arms on your shoulder, helping him cause you are certain he is unable to walk on his own now.

Limping to the outside of the house at the best speed you can do, you find his car is parked a few meters from where you both stand. You grumble, swearing that you would keep a tab in every kindness you give to this unthankful moron. 

“Hmm, you smell nice.” Jungkook whispers, the tip of his nose settles on the crook of your neck, brushing it to your skin repetitiously as he hums in delight. All of a sudden you feel like it is hard to breath, your nape hair standing from such impulse. Damn, how can he take so much reaction out of you? It’s totally unfair! “I love your smell, babygirl. I wish I could smell you everyday.”

“Jungkook, I smell like booze, smoke and sweat. And what the fuck is wrong with you!” You hiss, trying to calm your irregular heartbeat. And you can always trust Jungkook to somehow flirt with you in the middle of his drunken antics. “I need to get you home, Jungkook. Don’t make me throw you on the street, okay?”

Listening to your cold answer, Jungkook pouts, his arms fold on his chest. The luring persona he had is now replaced to the childish one, and you can’t believe you have to deal with it now. “You are being a meanie to Jungkook! You have to apologize!”

Boy did he mean it, because he is now refusing to enter the car until you apologize. You sigh in distress — but some part of you do enjoy the cute banter with your drunk best friend. You are definitely going to tease him about this after he is sober.  “Okay! I apologize, Jungkook. I won’t throw you away, and I will get you home safely. Satisfied?” He nods with a foolish smile.

Then you realize that you don’t know where he places his car keys at, so you ignore the warning in your head and search his pockets, trying to disregard that he is wearing tight-ass pants that force you to feel him up somehow. God, you can’t even shake the embarrassment creeping to your cheek. Where the hell is that key?!

“Y/N, do you seriously want to do it here? I want out first time to be in bed, please.” Jungkook politely says, like he did not just imply about sleeping with you — instead asking for a candy. You whimper, greatly embarrassed even if you know it’s only a drunken act. He does not mean it in any way possible, so the flutters inside your heart should stop! You curse yourself, despising how his words are now affecting your wellbeing.

After finding the key in his left back pocket, you open the door to him and he kindly obeys, but you take the chance and purposefully hit him in the head with the door. Serves him right! As Jungkook winces while bearing the physical pain, you gladly saunter to the driver's side, turning on the car and heading it to Jungkook’s address—which you already remember like your own, located not really far from university.

Few minutes pass in silence, so you think Jungkook already fell asleep, when a sudden question is heard and throws you away to shock.

“Do you like kissing Seokjin?”

“What the fuck—” You look at him, thinking he is joking but you find him staring back at you, eyes dead serious while his face is painted with no trace of mirth whatsoever. It sends you jitter and nerves all over your body. “Jungkook, I don’t understand why you are asking that.”

“I just want to know if he is a good kisser or not.”

“He doesn’t need to be a good kisser to make me like kissing him.”

You heard Jungkook’s breath hitched like it’s so hard to believe. “So you like kissing him?”

“That’s beside the point, Jungkook. I am just stating a fact cause your logic is flawed.”

You most definitely underestimated the level of distressfulness in his question when Jungkook literally growls, not liking the mind games you are playing on him. “I’m serious. Do. you. like. kissing. him. or not!”

“I don’t know why you are asking that, since it’s literally you who asks for the fucking beer pong game. Not to mention, it’s you who wants me to bone this guy, Jungkook.” You whisper, reminding him of the day he offers you to come to Hoseok’s birthday party. “That question is weird, I am not answering that.”

“I regret that day, everyday…” You hear him mutter silently while looking outside the window. You quickly warn yourself to avoid overthinking it. It’s unhealthy, and you’ve been here before! Better to turn off your feelings before everything gets messy on your side.

“Why do you even have to be bad at beer pong?! It’s just shooting fucking ball to a cup. How bad can you be to not even score a point?!” Jungkook childishly huffs, and you take a few deep breaths to stop yourself from landing a punch to his devilishly handsome drunk face. What you are going to do is ignore him, like an adult you truly are.

But the silence is too much and you just want to talk to him, hence opening up a new topic. “Jungkook, you know you have to leave for Busan tomorrow. You shouldn’t be partying the day before. Have you even packed?”

Jungkook looks at you and sighs, like he is mentally and physically drained—well, as he should from drinking that much. “How can I, when there’s a chance you are going to the party as well.”

You raise your eyebrow, unsure. “What are you saying?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief when grasping how clueless you actually are. “I don’t know what fucking Seokjin has asks you to believe, but I am still your best friend, Y/N.  Since we were kids. I know you like the back of my hand, I know how you hate parties, how you dislike being around strangers, and I know how dangerous it is to be with these frat boys.”

He pauses. “And frankly, I just can’t trust Seokjin. Even with ten years of friendship, I’m still finding new, wonderful things about you and you expect me to trust a fucker who only knows you for a month? Seriously. I only trust myself to be capable of taking care of you.”

The sincerity in his words and gaze, how determined he is with his words seriously blinded your sanity—this part of you trying to assure that what he says is strictly platonic. Your heart is beating so fast it is literally painful to even breath, all the butterflies in your stomach fly without a care in the world. Does he really mean it? Do you even want to know what he means by the words?

The rest of the way passes in tense silence, both of you busy in each of your thoughts, and the car already approaches the street of his house. You sigh, putting on the break when you finally arrive in front of his house lane. “This is it, Jungkook. Go home, get some sleep. Don’t forget to eat some aspirin, and please wake up in time for your flight.”

Jungkook somberly nods, clicking his seatbelt off. You were about to say something, anything about addressing the elephant inside the car—to confirm whether he meant his words, whether he is indeed jealous of the punishment kiss with Seokjin. But then he beats you to it.

“Can I ask you one thing? And please promise me you will answer this.” He stares at you, and you hesitatingly hum as an answer, the tension is hard to miss.

“Answer me truthfully. Do you like kissing him? Seokjin, I mean.”

You sigh, not believing how still hung up Jungkook is on the matter. “Jungkook—”

“I know you like this guy so much, Y/N. I don't even want to ask that. I just want to know if you like the kiss. I wish this guy sucks in kissing, at least let me live with that.”

You look up to him, cheeks turning vermillion as he braves himself to look into your eyes. Your heart swells in pride, thinking how important it is to confirm that to you. God, has he really been this cute before?

“It was okay.” 

Listening to your answer, Jungkook smiles widens from ear to ear, like he is completely over the moon with okay as an answer. “Just okay? Not mind blowing whatsoever?” 

“It was okay.” You repeat, not confirming nor denying his latter question, but Jungkook still looks pleased with just the same answer. The manchild then hums, throwing both his arms around you, enveloping you into a hug so close like he never wants to let go. After a good minute he finally lets go, still with a million-dollar smile on his face and... rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes as he breathes your scent in. This time, you are definitely sure you are going to schedule a slot with a cardiologist because there must be something wrong with your heart for beating that fast. There must be. And then his eyes flutter open, showing a strained gaze filled with anonymous emotion. 

“Are you going to be mad if I were to kiss you now?”

At Jungkook’s hushed questions, the temptation to taste his lips and comply with his request has you blinded, so you let go of your sanity and approve with a shy nod. The realistic side of you is quickly shut down as you don’t want to argue with it now. All you are thinking and craving about is to kiss him, or else you are going to die.

As his lips advances, the kiss finally happens. You can vividly feel the fireworks light up inside your chest—a strange yet wonderful feeling, the first time you ever feel this away while kissing someone. Jungkook’s lips are soft, touching you slowly like he is testing the waters. After he feels your careful reply, he sends more pressure, slowly but sure savoring your lips like he is taking his dearest time with you. Boy did he taste amazing—like a good whiskey, even if it’s probably all on him. The kiss feels amazing, yet you find yourself getting impatient with how it progresses, since all you can think is to feel him close. God, you must have lost your mind.

“Patience, pumpkin.” He teases, and you can feel a sleazy smile formed on his lips. You snort in annoyance, but he unexpectedly uses it to his advantage, stealthily shoving down his tongue inside your mouth cave. You gasp when the taste of alcohol kicks in, but is content nevertheless. You can’t even describe how good it is to have him close, your fingers entangled in his beautiful oak brown silk hair, his hands tightly encircled on your waist. How did you even think about spending a lifetime without kissing him?

“God, can I have you now? But I hate doing it in the car—I want our first time to be special.” 

Somehow, his desperate words instantly sobers your lust-clouded head, viciously taking you back to reality. So he really thinks of you that easily. And like you are saved by the bell, his brother appears from inside the house, probably realizing that the car has arrived but yet to show his brother—for a bit way too long. You curtly shove him away, heading outside the car before slamming the door vigorously. Of course. Of fucking course that is going to happen! What do you expect? He kisses you once and is finally ready to take your hand in marriage? You should’ve known better than to fall for the same tricks he played on those dumb girls. He even does it while drunk, for god sake. You should’ve known better!

With heavy self-disappointment you quickly open your phone, opening an app to order your ride home. All you want to do is now wail in sadness, and promise yourself to never let that happen again. You are too focused on your plan to flee, so when you feel Jungkook’s touch against your skin, you instinctively flinch. You can see how pained he is to see your reaction closing him off, yet you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to say even a word to him. The more you think about what just happened, the stronger the ache you feel, so you decided to just stop trying. You desperately need some time alone.

“Y/N! You are here. Thank you so much from bringing Jungkook home. This kid never learns, I swear.” Junghyun smiles, nonchalant to the tense air between you and Jungkook. You put up a fake smile of reassurance to the older guy, shrugging his worry.

“Are you going home? I can drive you, just let me take this guy in first.” Junghyun kindly offers, but you quickly recide. How can you do that when just in a few hours they are going to fly to Busan? They are seriously too kind.

“I ordered my taxi, it will arrive soon, oppa. No worries!” You brightly smile, not minding the obvious stares of Jungkook on your skin. You thank your lucky stars after the white taxi of your choice gladfully is near enough, and the blinding light of the taxi car lamp finally allows you to breathe. “It’s here!”

“Hyung, please take the details of the taxi, will you?” 

While entering the taxi you hear Jungkook’s subtle request to his brother, yet you pretend to be clueless, since it is better this way. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You don’t want to mess with the things you have now. You are so conflicted you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

“Text me when you get home.” Jungkook rigidly murmurs and you nod with the same manner. The taxi finally moves, and after a few seconds of total silence, you find the tears you have been holding for a while finally free, raining down on your cheeks.

*

Finally ending the fateful night, you arrive in your apartment and cry yourself to sleep. You feel betrayed, you feel dirty, you feel played and used. You do not know what has gotten into you to seriously think you are special to Jungkook, but that’s definitely not the case since he just caught up in the moment and just needed you to wet his dick. After that, you are going to ruin a ten year old friendship just because you can’t keep your feelings in hand like he can’t keep his dick inside his pants. You should’ve seen it coming—but now the damage is done, there is no use of regretting the things you can’t change. Yet ever since that day you can’t even sleep, eat, study, or basically do anything without thinking about him.

Especially since in the morning he left for Busan, he informed you through a message that he will be there for a week, and after that he needs to talk to you. You haven’t even replied, leaving him only on read even if that’s basically what you are thinking about night and day. What is he going to say? Is he going to reject you? Is he going to say how disgusted he is for that night? Is he going to tell you should not be friends anymore? There are countless scenarios playing in your head, and not even one is as what you wish it would be. Just an endless count of rejection and humiliation.

So the night before he is coming back, you are seated coated in your blanket in your apartment, right in front of your TV even though you don’t even know what show is playing. You are just zoning out, racking your brains for reasons that you need to say to Jungkook to avoid meeting him tomorrow. Do you just pretend you are sick? Or can you bail on him? But thinking about Jungkook, waiting alone in a cafe makes you sad and guilty, so you immediately cancel that last option. God, what are you going to do?

Too invested in your thoughts, you do not notice Lia is just in front of you. You finally acknowledge her presence when after she is now waving a plastic of delicious smelling food in front of your face. “Hey, earth to Y/N!” She calls you again, the agitation builds up for the past week of being ignored by her own roommate.

“Honey, seeing you like this makes me sad.” She sighs, resting the plastic on the desk. “I brought offering food, and with this I hope you can finally tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, realizing how annoyed she must be seeing you like this. You have been closed off on her as well, keeping the event from a week ago only for yourself. It just doesn’t feel right talking about it with someone Jungkook admitted he likes… Which suddenly pops an idea inside your brilliant head. God! How can you not think of it before?!

You widely let out an ear-to-ear smile which frankly scares Lia due to the drastic change of mood. But you couldn't care less. You need to do this, to save the remaining pieces of your friendship with Jungkook and give him a helpful hand as well.

“Lia, honey, can you please help me with something?”

*

Jungkook arrives at Gimpo International Airport at 5.40pm, along with his parents and brother. After going back for the wedding of his relatives, every new day he can’t wait to finally be back in Seoul. He is worried as hell about you, since he is aware that he did make a mistake that night—he scares you with his overwhelming feelings, but he promises himself to make things right. He would be crazy to let you go that easily. Jungkook definitely felt something from you that night—there is a glimpse of hope that you somehow like him too, and now he is helplessly hanging on to that rope.

After telling you he needed to see you after he got back, you left him on read for a few days and he had to confess that he was so moody and off during those days, constantly pissing everyone around him. But how can he not? He thought he lost his chance. What if Seokjin took those days to convince you how much better of a man he is than him? What if you had enough of him and dump his ass? Or worse, what if you think you can no longer even be friends? Those thoughts constantly bothered him, but when you message time and place to meet him, he feels comforted. He trusted you—you are much better of a person than what his pessimistic mind forced him to believe.

So when his flight arrives, he directly goes to take the train instead of going with his family’s car, heading to the restaurant you informed. As you informed him about the dinner—7pm reservation, he carefully calculated his ETA. Jungkook is a bit confused due to your choice of place—you don’t really fancy Mexican food, but he pays no heed as what he can only focus is what he is about to say and the gift he thought thoroughly and carefully before, secured on his backpack. Jungkook silently smiles. He is going to make this right.

Exactly an hour arrival, he is now in the area of the restaurant. He quickly hitch a taxi, asking the driver to drive as fast as he can since his plan was to arrive first before you. The hope grows dimmer as seconds pass, especially when his taxi is caught in the middle of a traffic jam. Jungkook groans, there is no hesitation that he will be late. He quickly send you an apology by text, in which you do not even read—adding more anxiety to his already existing one.

After a few minutes which passes like a thousand years, he finally arrives in the said restaurant. He slaps a few bills at the driver, not even waiting for a change as he runs inside, nervously tapping his foot after mentioning your name as a reservation. His heart is beating fast, his palms turn clammy, and he feels jittery all over his body. God, the feeling has already been too long to even remember. But he can’t deny that it indeed feels nice. It feels amazing to care and have real emotions this deeply about someone.

Instead of finding the face he has been thinking of night and days, he finds a completely different woman, sitting nervously on the table. He is too overwhelmed to even speak.

“You—What are you doing here?!”

Jungkook can’t even believe his eyes. It’s Lia, your best friend, sitting on the table right now. All at once, his head spins followed by a sudden nausea bubbling up his throat from the great shock. He has been expecting you—to see your face again waiting for him with a smile, to tell you how much you mean to him, to finally confess and give him a gift he carefully picks out for you—but instead you set him up for dinner with your best friend, without letting either of them know. He feels rejected, a wave of sadness crashing at him that he can only weakly sit down, his legs nearly giving him up. He is now mourning on so-selfless yet so idiotic action you do him.

“God, Y/N asked me for dinner together, and he actually set me up with you? What the fuck?!” Lia flares angrily, taking her phone and fervently dialing up your number. Seeing how ugly it can get, Jungkook takes the phone away, closing the call. “What are you doing?!” She hisses.

“I.. I accidentally lied to her that I like you instead of her when she caught us meeting that morning.” Jungkook whispers, his throat too dry for catching up in the sadness. “And now she is setting us up together.”

“God, it all makes sense now! She actually asked me how I feel about you, and knowing you like her, I put good words. Could it be that she thinks I like you too?” She gasps, but Jungkook is already too numb in the feeling. “God, she is such a moron sometimes!”

“That’s okay. It’s just clear now. I know she does not have any feelings for me, and she might be too afraid to say so. She is probably already with Seokjin now.” Jungkook bitterly whispers, trying to uphold his voice yet it still wound him so fucking bad. Of course that is it. Seokjin is a whole perfect package for a man, not a child with zero emotional capacity like him. He must be drunk to even think about competing with that man.

“No, that's not it..” Lia shakes her head fervently at Jungkook’s helpless posture. “I believe she broke up whatever relationship she had with Seokjin. Don’t tell her you know this from me, but they kinda did it in our apartment hallways a few days ago and I accidentally—well not really accidental but that’s not the point—heard! I thought she was extremely quiet and sad because of that!”

He is confused, he really is, but now he knows the fact, there must be something he has not known yet. “Are you sure?” Jungkook rises up to his seat, strangely motivated. Not that he wants to take advantage of your odd break up with Seokjin for his personal advantage, he just wants to be there for you — like what best friends would do.

“Are you okay if I leave you now?” Jungkook kindly asks, and Lia shoo him away boredly, eyes already skimming on the menu.

“Don’t need no boys helping me eat, but you owe me a lot after this, bro. You get it?” With a nod of confirmation and a short smile, Jungkook quickly heads to the place he knew he would find you.

*

You don’t even know what you are doing, seated in the usual coffee shop you always visit with Jungkook. You have been sitting in the cafe for nearly two hours, munching on the countless foods you order from the menu, yet you can’t hold back the obnoxious, ugly feeling in your chest — especially when the barista is asking where Jungkook is when you ordered your usual. It’s literally on you—you were the one setting up both your best friends who greatly deserve and like each other together, so why is it so painful to face the possibility that they are having a nice date in her favorite Mexican restaurant right now?

Great. Now you are crying. God, you must look hideous, no make up, alone with plates of food in front of you. You can’t even imagine what people must be thinking about you right now, since even you are disgusted with yourself.

“I better go home.” You sigh, ready to pick the bill when a soft bell tingling is heard and you do not know whether you can believe your eyes or not, but it signals Jungkook’s entrance. He is wearing a dark blue sweater you bought him for his birthday a year ago, walking pensively to your table. Just looking at him immediately quickens your heartbeat, too loud you can distinctly hear it rings in your ear. What is happening? Why is he here, not more than an hour in the date? That look—Is he mad at you?

“Y/N, before I am going to be angry at you for setting me up with your best friend, I want to hit pause. Okay?” He calmly speaks, resting his bag on the floor. You look at him with teary eyes, still shocked for only his presence so you hesitantly nod. 

“Are you okay? After Seokjin, I mean. I heard about it.” Jungkook whispers, trying for a slow approach to the said matter. You don’t even know how he knows, yet you don’t really care.  “I’m sorry.”

You finally gather your courage to let out your voice, eyes still training on your lap. “Don’t be. It’s hard, but I’m okay. We just realize it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Do you want a hug?” Jungkook good-naturedly offers like it's the most usual thing to do inside a coffeeshop, and you can’t hold the chuckle which he follows. “We always hug it out whenever we are sad. I don’t know about you, but it always works for me. Your hugs are the best.”

You know he probably does not imply anything, so you nod, because you are desperately in need of your best friend’s hug right now. When everything is hard, it feels nice to have someone who completely understands and is willing to listen, instead of telling you what you need to do. That’s the kind of friendship you have with him, and you are thankful neither of you has given up on each other even with the constant fights.

After a good ten minutes just having each other close in a hug—his arms secured around your shoulder while you lean your head on his annoyingly sturdy chest—you let your best friend go. “God, we must be looking like two moron right now.” You whisper, noticing a few glances are thrown at your table and Jungkook snickers, agreeing with your comment. You snort. “More like because you look like a fucking idol and I look a hobo. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Hey, I just arrived from Busan and I directly come here without even changing.” He pouts and you chuckle, feeling the butterflies vividly knocking on your stomach. He helps you asking for the bill, and when it arrives, he directly gives the waiter his card and you angrily shove him away.

“Jungkook, if you pay for the food you don’t even touch, I swear to god—”

“But it's my turn to pay!” He protests and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not, because you did not even eat a thing.”

He quickly munch on the leftover fries, giving the waiter his card and pushing the confused man away before you can snatch the card back. You hiss, seriously feeling guilty for letting him pay for the whole thing. “God, I am starving! Can I eat this?” He asks, munching on your half eaten pasta without waiting for you. You just stare at him, happily eating your food and you can’t hold down the smile.

“Can I have this coffee too?” He politely asks, pointing at your black coffee and you sigh. 

“Jungkook, once again I tell you, you do not like black coffee. I’ll just order you anything.” You are about to call the waiter again when he holds you back.

“I like everything you like, Y/N. I think this goddamn coffee has grown on me.”

But he is completely bullshitting you—and probably himself because as his lips touch the glass to take a sip, he instinctively grimaces at the strong, bitter taste. Gosh, an idiot and somehow you still call him your best friend.

“Jungkook, do you want me to order you a banana milkshake?” You kindly offer like the coffee thing did just not happen, and he answers with a 1000 watt smile that leaves you strangely speechless.

“My hero.”

After exactly another hour talking about the cousin’s wedding he attended a few days ago, both of you and him exit the coffeeshop. You can’t hide your blush when the barista is secretly teasing you with his goddamn eyebrow, not that Jungkook can notice. God, you wish he doesn’t notice.

“Can we walk to your apartment? Are you okay? it’s a little bit cold.” Jungkook worriedly asks, and you nod as an agreement. He smiles serenely at you, his hand runs to fix your messy hair—courtesy of the wind. His fingers delicately put a strand of lost hair to the back of your ear, and smile with all his bunny teeth on display after being satisfied with the result. God, you wish he would not notice how nervous you are right now.

During the short walk filled with comfortable silence, he reaches your hand, tightly intertwining it with his fingers. All the things he does are not special—you nearly do it every time in your so-called platonic friendship, but everything definitely has changed. But the fuzzy feeling quickly turns into nerves when you sense the inevitable talk is coming, as he points to one of the benches in front of your apartment building.

“I am angry at you.”

You look up to him, expecting anger on his face when you found none, instead a thin smile. “You set me up with your best friend. What were you thinking, Y/N?”

“You said you liked her. And I know you need a push to finally do something about it, that’s why I did it.” You guiltily try to defend yourself. Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling remorse of what the conversation will turn into.

“But.. I don’t know whether we want to discuss this, but here goes—we kissed that night, Y/N. Does it even mean anything to you?” 

And now it is there. The hurt, the frustration, the anger shown on his beautiful doe eyes. You know it is coming — the inevitable confrontation about that night. But how can he even ask such question to you? Doesn’t he know it nearly keeps you awake every night?

“You were drunk, Jungkook. And horny... I was—we were just caught up in the moment.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I don’t know about you, but I was not just caught up in the moment.” Jungkook curtly answers, taking a deep breath of courage. He hopes he doesn’t mess up everything and end up chasing you away yet again.

“Can’t you see it, Y/N? I like you. I like you so much for how it seems like a long time ago, but idiot me, somehow I just realize everything now.”

At his answer, your head feels like it is about to explode. But you are too scared, too realistic to even think about the possibility that he may truly mean every word. “You can’t lie to me like that, Jungkook! I am not the girl you can play with like your one night stands. I do not want to be just another number to you.”

“But you're not just another number to me!” He agitatedly hisses, letting his emotions open up on the table. “You think it doesn’t kill me? I think about it nearly everyday. I think about you and Seokjin. I think about you rejecting me. I think about you and our ten years friendship currently on the line. Do you think it has been just a walk in the park for me?”

He takes a deep breath. “I like you, Y/N. I like you so much it kills me for you to close me off that night we kissed. I thought everything was clear—my obvious feelings for you, but just now, you set me up with your best friend. How fucking great!”

The tears welling in your eyes are forcing to come out. “You don’t know how afraid I was, Jungkook. You can’t even imagine how it was for me! I like kissing you—I think I like it a little bit too much—but when you said you wanted to fuck in the car, I felt… I felt disgusted. You were drunk, and I felt like you were just using me for my body, like I’m just another dumb girls who you’ll fuck and never call back. I.. I don’t want to feel that way anymore.”

The statement you let out just brings a whole new guilt on his chest, and he moves to hold you close. “What were you thinking, Y/N. I would never do that to you…”

“How can I think of that? Are you shitting me right now? Jungkook, you slept with at least three girls a week, and you explicitly told me about fucking these girl nearly everyday before. So you expect me to comply and fuck you in that car, ruining our friendship because you only want to fuck me and wet your dick?!”

“Y/N, I swear it is not that. I like you too much, and I got so jealous of Seokjin—I am sorry that I make you feel that way. But I swear to god, at that time I just wanted to show you how much I like you, and I am sorry if it came out that way.”

You take a deep breath, but even doing it suffocates you. “I just need some time. That’s it. Can we… can we just pretend this never happens?” You sigh tiredly, and at your word, Jungkook feels hit with a ton of brick until he is completely numb. You want to disregard everything that happened?

“I am heading upstairs. You.. you can just head home now.” You whisper, and every word coming out hurts you back like it hurts him, but you need this. You need some time to think about everything. You don’t want to hurt yourself again—just seeing him now hurts so fucking bad already. Jungkook is not emotionally ready for you. He just caught up in the moment of drunkenness, and he doesn’t mean it. You should just stop thinking about it.

You are about to leave to cry your eyes to sleep, when you heard him call from behind.

“Here. I bought this for you. Don’t worry, Y/N.  I’ll leave.”

And you can hear the steps of his boots, walking far and far away until it disappears in the  silence. Now that he is not here, you find the wind is ten times colder, and the pain in your chest multiplies a thousand times. It’s only you now, alone with your thoughts. You brave yourself to turn back, seeing a box of chocolate resting on the bench, which then leaves you a crying mess.

It’s the exact chocolate he gave ten years ago to the girls, the one you ate when you saved him from the humiliation he faced. How could he even get this?

To : Y/N

Thank you for saving me again that day. And the day after. And the day after, until today. I owe you my life :)

With love, your vermillion faced favorite person in the world.

Jeon Jungkook.

*

Another week passes, and Jungkook wakes up with a groan inside of his room he shared with Taehyung. God was he trashed last night. His frat was having another party, and he may or may not steal a few bottles and decided to trash himself whilst playing Overwatch—he can’t even remember when or how. His back is killing him for falling asleep with bent back, his face plastered on the keyboard.

He tries to straighten up, but the dizziness from suddenly standing up washes him away that it takes some time to get used to. His lips are as dry as sahara, yet he found no bottle of water that may relieve the thirst—seriously, Jungkook? Stealing two bottles of vodka but forgot to bring up a bottle of water? God he is a moron sometimes.

He walks out of the room, descending to the downstairs with his head still banging painfully due to the bad hangover. He is about to head directly straight to the kitchen, but his steps are paused when he finds Seokjin currently having his breakfast on the table, with… you.

The first thought that comes to his mind is how different you look—you look pale and tired, the dark eyebags are getting prominent and it does look like you haven’t been sleeping well. The thoughts finally come closing when he realizes how awkward the air has become, you, Seokjin and himself on such close distance. Jungkook can’t bear the bitter thoughts of you, having your usual breakfast with Seokjin. God, he must be a bother—so he quickly enters the kitchen, intends to grab a drink and forces himself out of the picture.

“Jung—Jungkook, can we talk? Outside, I mean. I want to tell you something.”

He looks back, not expecting to find you standing up and walking to him to the kitchen. 

“We can. Do we need Seokjin to join as well?” He bitterly shoves the water inside his throat, not even minding how petty he must have sounded. 

“No. No need. I need to talk to you alone.” You beg, internally praying that Jungkook will not make it harder than it already is. All you want to do is say what you needed to say, then run away and bury yourself alive beside the nearest tree. 

Jungkook hums, and follows your hesitant step to the backyard of his frat house. But now that he is seeing you in such close distance, makes him realize that he terribly misses seeing you and talking to you. The week after the confession he let out, he decides to give you the space you deserve—no matter how desperate he is to just send you a message and ask how you’re doing. He can’t even deny that he went to your faculty a few times before, wanting to just see how you are doing even from afar. He knows how cringey and creepy that thought is, but he seriously can’t stand the idea of not having to see your face during those times. Checking up on you is like something he has been doing for ten years now, and he doesn’t intend to stop just because you need your own space.

Now you are standing with him, yet he thoughtfully motion so you can sit on the patio wall. The first touch he gave you since the last encounter, and it successfully turns you ten times nervous than you already are. Will you even be able to say what you need to say when he is right there, looking at you like that?

“Before you say anything, can I ask why are you having breakfast with Seokjin?” He starts, somehow unable to disregard the scene he just witnesses. He doesn’t know why, but he feels somehow sad and anxious that you are spending such an intimate breakfast with him. Sensing that Jungkook is indeed dead serious, and so are you, you decide not to beat around the bush and answer him with the truth.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to see you and he was there, having his breakfast. He was just being polite.” 

“Jungkook, I want to say I am sorry.” You whisper directly and cut to the chase, intending to look him in the eyes but still failing to do so. All because you are nothing but a nervous pile of mess. “I.. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t set you up with Lia just because of my insecurities. I thought I was doing you some good, but that was my fault to overstep it. And I shouldn’t have been angry at the thoughts that you were just playing with me—it’s only in my head and I accused you for it. It’s so unfair for you, I.. I want to apologize.”

Both of you fall into deep and tense silence, waiting for the other to speak up. But falling too uncomfortable with the silence, you decide to open your voice again. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Are you still angry at me?”

“Shouldn’t you apologize for one more thing?” Jungkook calmly asks, basking in your appearance once again like it’s never enough. God, are you even eating well? You hesitantly look up, confused with his words. What does he mean by that?

“The way you expect us to forget everything happened.” He winces soundly just by saying the word he refuses to acknowledge since the moment he heard it. Just thinking about the word you said a few nights back still brings fresh pain inside his chest. “That’s actually what hurts me the most. I don’t really care about the other.” You bit your lower lips. Is it just your hallucination or Jungkook seriously asking that?

Jungkook racks his brain, trying to articulate his thoughts yet failing to do so. Then he gives up, letting his heart do the talking instead. “I like you, Y/N. I don’t want to scare you—but I might even be in love with you. These past few years are so clear now. I like you, I always have feelings for you but it was so clouded with any friendly, somehow platonic feelings I thought I have and I don’t know—what happened with us just awakened me, making me realize  that I don’t want anyone else but me to be the one taking care of you.”

The newfound sincerity in his words astonishes you. Your breath hitches, with his words coming in and out of your mind, yet it still feels unsettled. Does he really mean it? 

“I guess I was just too busy with myself, with my own ways of hiding the pain I felt. But I realize, it was not any parties, or meaningless sex or any other things that makes me happy. I thought it was, but it’s not.” Jungkook takes your chin, pleading for you to look up to him. You are too overwhelmed by emotion, and you are thankful he asked you to sit because if you weren’t, your leg would give you away.

“It’s you. It’s always you.” He proclaims, as clear as the sky upon him. “It’s breakfast with you, talking with you everyday, seeing you be happy and be the one causing it. That’s what makes me happy.”

At such sentiment, the tears swimming in the corner of your eyes finally falls, streaming on the side of your cheek. He quickly pulls you close, his head entangles on your hair and your hands basked on his waist tightly, like you are holding it for dear life.  “Jungkook, I am scared. I don’t want to lose you... What if everything goes wrong and then I lost you forever?”

Jungkook kisses the top of your head. God, he is scared beyond words too. But he loves you too much, he believes in what you both have and is ready to take his chances. “We’ll make it through. I can’t promise you much, but I promise I’ll always look out for our best interests. You won’t lose me. I am your best friend before anything, Y/N.”

You nod, somehow assured by his words. You know it’s going to be hard to believe—even your past self would too, but you trust him with all your heart. Jungkook has been one constant thing in your life, and you trust him and are willing to put everything on the line because frankly, you love him, and he loves you. Maybe it’s time to finally be brave enough to face anything and take that risk. Only because it is him.

Another moment of holding each other close when Jungkook fucking opened his mouth and decided to ruin everything. “So.. Can I kiss you now?” He jokingly whispers and you snort, all sappy moments crumbling down to ashes. An amused chuckle somehow did escape your lips, and he pouts. “Hey, let me kiss you, you pretty girl. Seriously, I kissed you once, and god, that’s all I can think of this past week.”

You roll your eyes, heart beating rapidly fast in your chest. You are going to shrug his face away from you, but the moment you can clearly look up to him, you feel warm and giddy. His face is saying everything, shaded vermillion red while shyly looking down on you. A flashback comes inside your head, reminding you about the eleven year old kid with the same shade of vermillion on his face. He is still the same Jungkook you know—the Jungkook you love and wouldn’t trade for anything in the whole world.

His lips advance closer to yours yet you are the one to close the distance between. To have your lips finally touch against his chapped one, you can feel the same firework lights up, only ten times better now that you finally is truthful to your own feeling. God does it feel amazing to feel it to have him against your lips. Both of you are too content with even such innocent kisses, feeling the smile forming in each of your lips, inevitably bringing up a laughter.

“Fucking finally!”

At the loud roar, you quickly push Jungkook until he falls a few steps back, completely shocked beyond words to hear the shouts behind you—which belongs to Taehyung, somehow with Lia shutting him instantly on the mouth. There are few other frat brothers like Jimin and Namjoon as well, smiling meaningfully in front of the door. You shyly duck your head, god, how long have they been standing there? This is embarrassing!

“Are you going to hit them or should I?” You whisper, walking outside from the back door with Jungkook on your side, escaping the loud shouts and woo from the people standing there. Jungkook chuckles with mirth at your reddened abashed face. Is it a good time for him to say how adorable you are right now, with a burst of red coloring your cheek?

“No worries, I will.” He kisses your supple cheek. “But objectively speaking, I do think Lia has rights for that. She is the one helping me to get you since god-knows-when.” Jungkook smiles endearingly, holding you close around the shoulder when it’s finally just the two of you, brushing a kiss on the top of your head. You chuckle knowingly, and Jungkook stops to see you straight on the eye.

“Aren’t you going to ask me when, why or how? I mean about the chasing you thing with Lia.” He asks seriously, yet apparently can’t get his hands far from you as he reaches for your cheek, softly brushing it delicately with his fingers. You hum, somehow content with his touches. God, you sure like him so much it hurts.

“Baby—you’re cute. But actually it’s Lia who convinces me about you.” You chuckle, and Jungkook scrunch his eyebrows, yet still falling shy at the nickname that sounds entirely different now that you are the one saying it to him. “She told me everything. And that’s actually when I realize that I can trust you. With all my heart.”

Jungkook smiles, heart turning warm from your statement and still, the endearing nickname. “On the light note, you called me your baby. Ugh, can I kiss you again, pumpkin?” He cheekily asks, and your hearts light up at the familiar yet so strange nickname that now it feels different to have him as your lover.

You smirks, holding his palm against your cheek, taking in his disheveled, morning appearance once again. He looks extensively cute with his button nose and reddened cheeks, his disheveled morning hair still super inviting to have your fingers running through it. And it is unfair that somehow he looks his best now, better than anything you have seen him before. High chance it is because for you, the best thing for Jungkook to wear is his smile—especially when it’s because of you.

“Not if you have to ask again every time you don’t.”

He smirks and pulls you by the nape, muttering an answer against your smiling lips. He seriously wouldn’t mind doing this every second of the day.

“Deal.”

========

Finally! nearing 25k, wow this is a lot to write. But it was so much fun and i hope you like it! let me know and lets talk :) kindly check my masterlist !

UPDATE #1 : Drabble posted on masterlist! Do check lovelies! <3

UPDATE #2 : Find the Taehyung spinoff, “The Platinum Rules” click here!

#jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fuckboy au #jungkook friends to lover #bts #bts au #bts jungkook #bts seokjin #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts fuckboy au #seokjin #friends to lovers #bts frat au #taecalikook #bts friends to lovers #jungkook fanfic

[intothewickedwood]

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 5x22 Only You

Does that mean Storybrooke’s magic is gone now that Rumple has tethered it to the crystal?

Well, I guess he can’t have taken all of it or Regina wouldn’t have been able to teleport etc.

Henry’s relationship with magic is like a freaking rollercoaster. At first, he thinks it’s the best thing in the world, then he hates it so much he wants to destroy it, then it’s the best thing in the world, then he tries to destroy it, then it’s the best thing in the world! But that’s kids for you, I guess! I’m sure I was like that and still can be. Come to think of it, would putting dynamite in the well in season 2 have destroyed magic?

Is that needle that’s put dozens of people under a sleeping curse the same one Maleficent used on Aurora?

Henry’s literally so powerful. I wish he could use his author powers more.

How is taking the crystal out of SB gonna destroy magic in SB?

Oh, so Rumple tethered the magic but didn’t technically absorb it from the town, so they can still use it.

Why can’t Regina text Henry to say that destroying magic would destroy SB? 

Guess they can go over the town line now, for the first time in like forever. But I guess Emma & Regina & Henry could already cross the threshold, possibly Violet too as she didn’t come over with the first curse. And then the others are brought to New York by a portal. 

Oh! So that’s why they can use magic in the lwom? Because Henry brought the crystal aka all the magic of Storybrooke there.

Aww. Henry and Violet are cute. I just wouldn’t recommend reading the Henry and Violet book if you appreciate their relationship in the show.

Oh, thank God. Zelena does promise to bring baby Robin to visit her brother Roland! I need them to have known each other growing up! I bet they’re really close. And Roland is just as sweet as ever and has to stop his sister being reckless. The Hufflepuff to her Slytherin (+ Gryffindor tendencies), if you will. And I need fics where Roland doesn’t grow up to be vengeful and angry. Once a Hufflepuff cupcake, always a Hufflepuff cupcake.

Did Regina agree to Roland going back to Sherwood Forest? I’m surprised she didn’t adopt him. It must have been the Merry Men’s decision because no way would they take orders from Zelena. 

Aww! Roly kissing his baby sis!! I’m gonna miss you Roly!! Literally the most adorable kid! Aww and Granny kisses him on the head too! I die!!

Look at his little mittens!!

I’m guessing he doesn’t know she killed his mama but maybe he knows that she posed as her and in a strange way enjoyed his time with her? I mean, I guess you can say that as Marian Zelena did, at least, take care of Roland and bond with him. Maybe she always wanted to be a mother? Still doesn’t excuse her killing Marian and posing as her. Just trying to make sense of this hug. Maybe Roland is just super forgiving! And you can say it’s cause he’s a child but let me tell you, I was so much less willing to forgive really terrible things as a child than I am now. 

Omg. They all fell so hard through that portal! Ow!

Emma’s genuinely worried Regina’s gonna put a sleeping curse on her.

Baelfire was trying to destroy magic in New York?

Ron used sellotape to try to fix his wand, so why not?

Omg Davis Bloom, love of my life! Well, it’s Hyde but this guy loves to play literal monsters! Listen, before Once Upon a Time, Smallville was my hardcore special interest show. I rewatched it so many times since I was 9! Anyway, Chloe was my favourite character and I’d always been a Chloe x Clark shipper and then Davis came along and Chlavis became my otp. He loved her so much! He gave her the love and attention she deserved! Yes it was messed up but that’s what 12-year-old me was and is here for! My mum and I were so excited when we found out the actor was gonna be in Ouat! I loved Davis to bits and ngl, was highly attracted to him (as was my mama), so excuse me as I continue to be thirsty over Hyde.

Back to the rewatch!

Hyde strangling people is my jam lol.

Snow, my girl, you really can’t keep a secret. She darn told Hyde about the Dark One’s love being pregnant! Oh well, love her anyway. And also, she was 10.

I’ll never forget, I once cut my eye and it legit looked like one of Hyde’s but scarier. It was so frightening to look at and really uncomfortable, but it healed eventually. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it. But it looks cool and sexy on Hyde xD. 

Is that the same book Tilly finds at Henry’s place in 7x14?

Regina: “like with Hook, my first impulse was to rip his throat out.” Jesus Regina! You’re saying that to the woman who just went to the Underworld for Hook and thought she’d lost him forever. He’s someone she loves. That’s intense! As someone who’s been told by a loved one, threateningly, that they are (completely seriously) going to violently kill another loved one, several times, that is so not cool. Luckily no one was killed though, it’s okay. 

I recently read a really interesting meta about Regina’s motivation for redemption being intellectual. Like she says here, she doesn’t want to do good. She hates doing good but she knows that villainous acts won’t get her her happy ending and so she reasons that in order for things to go less awful for her, she must to good. She doesn’t do it because of empathy, guilt or regret, she does it because she figures it’s what the heroes are doing and things are going right for them and because if she goes back to her evil ways she knows she’ll lose Henry and her new and only support network. I think the same can be said for Zelena’s motivations to do good. No shade, just an analysis.

Well at least she’s using the word “I” to express that she did those things. But, she seems more concerned about those things hanging over her than for what she did to her victims and how they felt and suffered.  She even seems more upset at the fact that she has lost a love again than the fact that Robin lost his life and his kids have lost their father.

Hmm. Interesting. She seems to suggest here that before she didn’t know the difference between good and evil. You know what, that could be true because she didn’t really get why people called her the ‘Evil Queen’ and then there’s the fact she was raised by Cora and Henry Sr. Cora probably warped her perception of good and evil and her father positively reinforced a lot of the evil Regina did and didn’t explain to her why the things Cora did and the lessons she taught were wrong.

Why are all those stories in the library? That makes no sense. 

There’s a problem. If the grail is the origin of all magic and Merlin found it around 1500 years before the present (apparently Merlin was a runaway slave too. Of course he flipping was!), how comes Gothel and Seraphina had magic thousands of years ago? I mean, I suppose they were from another land (that Gothel killed almost all the inhabitants of), so I guess people just don’t know magic didn’t originate from the grail. I mean, since the God’s had magic before the grail, and nymphs possibly have relations to gods, I suppose it makes sense that Gothel had magic but then, what about Seraphina? How does she have magic and how did she live so long? Did Gothel cast a spell on her that made her practically immortal or was she already immortal?

Well, that was easy for Rumple lol.

Transforming looks really painful.

The thing is. They shouldn’t have separated Jekyll from Hyde. I think it would have been cooler if they hadn’t. Sure, they can make Jekyll the true villain but why not have the heroes try to save Jekyll as Hyde thwarts their plans at every turn to the point where they have to agonize over hurting Jekyll to defeat Hyde. The same can be said for Regina. Don’t split them up! Just have Regina transform into the Evil Queen so you can’t tell when she’s Regina and when she’s the EQ working on her evil plan. That would’ve been really fun to watch and to try to figure out which persona she was and when! Also, they should have just made Jekyll transform when emotionally compromised rather than when taking the potion because without an assistant Jekyll could have easily lived without Hyde ever returning. 

I hate the look of that wand.

Hydes theme sounds so awesome!

Also, it would have been really cool to explore the Land of Untold Stories. It looks so rad!

How can Hyde summon the portal? Don’t you have to have enough dark magic?! I guess maybe his strength and durability are enhanced by dark magic?

Rumple, I don’t think Belle can here you in that box.

Can I marry Hyde now? I want to marry Hyde. 

#ouat #once upon a time #henry mills #ouat hyde #ouat rewatch #ouat rewatch 2019

[fantasyoverreality98]

So You Wanna Write a Novel?: Basics

Okay, I’ve never actually attempted to give some writing advice in a semi-formal manner, but I shall try my best. As someone who’s been writing original stories for about seven years, I have some advice to give that might help out those of you who are interested in learning how to write a novel but are unfamiliar with where to start.

Keep in mind that I’m not super experienced in giving writing advice, and most of my experience with improving my writing comes from school. I’d probably be more helpful providing essay writing advice, but I’ll try my best to give some creative writing advice too.

Also, shoutout to Alya: @anotherbeingsworld,  this one is for you. I hope it helps a bit!

Characters

Personally, I think characters are the most important part of any story. If you don’t care about the characters, why would you want to continue reading? Readers need characters that they can relate to, someone who they see themselves in and that they find themselves rooting for. Without good characters, the rest of the novel won’t matter. So, develop those characters.

Three useful tips I have for making your OCs:

·      Incorporate pieces of yourself into them

·      Establish a goal or a mindset for this character before you even begin writing the story

·      Try to write from the perspectives of people who you may not necessarily agree with

Now that I’ve given those three tips, I’ll go into further detail for each one so that you understand what I mean.

1.     Incorporate pieces of yourself into them: By saying this, I mean take some personality traits and/or personal likes/dislikes that you have and give those to your characters. It can be as simple as a shared favourite drink, or as deep as incorporating one of your own personal experiences or beliefs into the character. As long as you can establish a connection between you and your character, it will make it a bit easier to write from their perspective. However, I must warn you, don’t make the character (especially the protagonist) a copy of yourself. I mean, you can, but I’ve never been a fan of the self-insert. Give us a character that is not like their creator. Show us someone who differs in opinion than you and that you may get into disagreements with in real life. Give us a person.

2.     Establish a goal or a mindset for this character before you even begin writing the story: I want to see this character start one way and end another. Do they begin the plot not believing in love and then somehow manage to fall in love as the story progresses? Are they self-centered and arrogant in the beginning, and then by the end have realized that other people matter, and that life isn’t so black and white? Do they have a goal to stop the “bad guys” and then later realize that those guys aren’t so horrible? I want to see a change. Characters (especially a protagonist) who don’t experience development throughout the story are not as interesting to me. Flip their entire world upside down. Show us some excellent story arcs.

3.     Try to write from the perspectives of people who you may not necessarily agree with: Try to get into the mind of someone who you wouldn’t like in reality. Write from the perspective of someone who infuriates you. Give yourself a challenge by not writing the world through your own eyes, but rather from the eyes of someone who sees things differently than you. Not only do I believe this makes your writing skills better because you can explore different ideals and mindsets, but I think it also teaches a writer to be more empathetic and gives them a more well-rounded view of the world. Of course, if you’re just starting out, this tip isn’t as important, but I still think it should be considered.

Plot

Ah, the part of writing a novel where you must figure out what the hell is going on. I’ll be honest, I’ve always been more of a character-driven writer. Characters are my most cherished possession and the plot itself is just my way of moving them along.

But you can’t have a story without a plot, so here we are.

Have something happen. That might seem obvious, but I’ve read quite a few books where I felt like I was just following characters as they did their daily tasks. Give me a reason to keep reading. Do I want to see two characters get together, do I want to see the hero defeat the villain, am I on the edge of my seat constantly wondering if the team is going to make it out alive? There needs to be action.

It may not be the best way to write, but I like to think of each chapter as a mini “episode” and the whole book is like the “season” of the story. Is it a limited series? Is it an on-going series? You figure it out. Each chapter should be there for a reason. Don’t write about the adventure of Mary as she went to the grocery store and did nothing else. What did Mary see there? Did she find out that some drama is about to go down? There should be a purpose. All the chapters should tell a short story themselves, and then those short stories should all weave together into the overall story. I don’t need five filler chapters. Obviously, this is more for stories that aren’t contemporary, since it’s a bit trickier to make every chapter action-packed for contemporary romance. And yet, there should still be a purpose. We don’t need 150k of almost nothing happening.

The best advice I can offer you is this: figure out the end of your book when you’re only a few chapters in. Decide what the end game is and then work towards it. The story needs to end somewhere, right? We don’t need to follow characters for dozens of chapters only to reach an ending that tells us nothing. Unless you’re making a series, the end of your book should have a definitive conclusion. Don’t drag out the story indefinitely.

Setting

You’re asking the wrong person, I don’t know how to do setting.

Kidding, but seriously, I think that it all depends on what genre you’re writing. If you are working on a contemporary romance, the setting isn’t all the important. I usually give basics: general location, surroundings, different places the characters visit…nothing too extreme. If you’re writing a fantasy, however, you need to establish setting.

Now, I’m mostly a contemporary writer at the moment, but I used to be an action/adventure/fantasy writer, so I do have some experience with writing setting. When I think of setting, I want to be able to envision the area. I want to hear the rain falling, I want to see the night sky, I want to imagine the heat bearing down. I’m trying to not use my own writing for examples, but I think this may need one. When I think setting, I think imagery, and I’ve been told that my imagery is pretty good, so I’ll use a little snippet for fun:

Blinking against the harsh desert sky, A***** stopped to take in what lay before her. Grand pyramids loomed in the distance, towering over the sand dunes on the horizon…The heat seemed to increase the longer she stood out in the open, making it harder to breathe with each passing minute. A*****’s throat screamed for water; her body begged for shade. Pushing the pieces of dark wavy hair from her face, she began to panic. If water didn’t come soon, it would take only a few hours for A***** to dehydrate. The only company was the sound of her laboured breaths. Each inhale became shallower…Hours of agonizing stumbling passed by. The sky had just started to turn a dark red when A***** collapsed from exhaustion. She curled into a tight ball on the side of a sand dune, unable to form any tears. Still, the heat remained unrelenting. Gasps replaced her breathing, and A***** prepared to welcome the cold darkness of sleep drifting her way. Footsteps swished through the sand toward her. A*****’s eyes snapped open. Her hands searched frantically for a grip, for anything to protect her from the stranger she felt standing behind her. When she couldn’t find a weapon, she gathered up what little strength she had and leapt up, whirling to face the unknown person.

Describing setting can be super fun, and if you’re into writing fantasy, then I’d say this is definitely the thing for you. I’m never too concerned about specifics for setting when I write contemporary, since I don’t think much world-building is required, but if you want to create an intriguing world for other genres, I’d say to look up some writing advice on setting (and I will probably do the same because I know I need to work on setting myself).

Point of View

I’ve seen several conflicting opinions when it comes to writing from point of view. Some writers refuse to use first person, some refuse to write in third person, others like second person, and then there are plenty, I’m sure, who do a mixture of all of them. I am the final type, though I do lots of writing in third person.

First, we need you to understand the differences. A first-person narrator uses words like “I, me, we,” etc. It is a narrative told from the perspective of one or more characters, through their eyes. You are the character in first person. Second-person uses “you, your, yourself,” etc. and is a less common writing style. Most of the time I have seen it used in reader-insert fanfiction, and cannot provide much detail on it since it is the POV I use the least. Finally, third-person narrators use the words “he, she, they,” etc. and is told from the perspective of an outside force. Now that doesn’t mean that you don’t get to know the thoughts of characters, since there are several types of third-person POVs. I predominantly use third-person limited, which means telling things from one specific character’s perspective, knowing all of their inner thoughts and emotions. I then switch character’s perspectives in different chapters, but almost never in the same chapter without indicating a clear break in POV.

Why is point of view here? It is necessary to know the point of view you want to write from.

Some writers I’ve seen think that there is almost no reason to write from first person, but I think that some stories require you to follow one main perspective throughout the plot. Most of my contemporary romance is written from first-person, because I think that it’s easier to tell things from the protagonist’s eyes and the other characters’ thoughts are not as valuable to the plot. When writing fantasy or almost any other genre, I like to write from third person, so that readers can experience the story from several different perspectives. Sometimes characters split off and all characters’ experiences are necessary to piece the plot together, and other times I feel it necessary to explore how different characters react to the same situation.

At the end of the day, point of view is entirely up to you and what matters most is that you write in a style that you feel comfortable with.

Theme

Theme is the message of your novel. It is the important aspect of your story, the lesson to be learned when the reader reads the final sentence and has to say goodbye to the characters and the world.

Examples of themes include but are not limited to: love, forgiveness, growth, honour, war, perseverance…the possibilities are endless.

What do you want to tell readers, without really telling them? That’s what a theme is. For example, let’s say you write a story about mental illness and you end the story with the protagonist fighting against it and ultimately realizing they have the power within them to go on; the major themes of that novel would be perseverance and self-discovery. The message readers should get by the end of it is that they can overcome their struggles and find happiness, no matter how hopeless the protagonist may have felt in the beginning and throughout the novel.

Without a theme, your novel has no true meaning. But you don’t need some deep message either, sometimes love is good enough. At the end of the day, it’s your novel, and the significance of your theme is entirely up to you.

---

There is a lot that goes into writing a novel, but these are some basics that can help you get started. I’m not great at explaining in a professional way, but I hope this helps anyone who takes the time to read it. Happy writing!

#my writing #writing advice #writing tips #i am not good at advice i apologize hahaha #writing

[fullmetalscullyy]

a conspiracy theory - chapter 5

co-written by @snowdog49 and @jeanhaavoc

summary:  Detective Roy takes on a challenging task… To find Olivier Armstrong’s sword. However, he has a beautiful woman to distract him along the way. Will he, Jean, and Ed be able to find the sword in time, or will they succumb to the conspiracy?

warning: graphic depictions of violence

tags: conspiracy, pining, unresolved sexual tension, private detective au, royai, havolina, mystery, violence, modern au, coffee shops

rated: m | words: 4697

read on ao3

Ling had insisted on Roy and Ed meeting at his apartment, which was fine if Roy knew what he was going up against. When he parked the car and got out, the apartment proved to be the whole house. It was on the river’s bank, two stories, and a large garage. The lawn was well kept, with a large tree shadowing the grass and a cherry tree on the other side by the garage. There was a silver motorcycle parked out front in the driveway as well as a black sports car. Roy had to roll his eyes. If there was ever a definition of a politician’s kid, Ling was proving himself one even before meeting Roy. Ed stared at the bike, then back at Roy, who just kept walking up to the door. He half expected a butler or some kind of servant to answer the door, but instead, the young man himself did. Ling was barefoot with dark jeans and a white t-shirt on, covered by a sports coat. He grinned ear to ear and waved them in.

“Mustang right? Come on in!” He was cheery and almost carefree. His shoulders were relaxed and his legs walked easily as if he was inviting friends into his home.  

Roy already found Ling almost too happy. He was just a little taller than Ed, black hair pulled back with wild hairs in front of his face. He had on this goofy smile and a bounce in his step. He had nothing to hide, and it showed in the way he welcomed them both into his house without another thought. Roy noted that behaviour, but didn’t think there would be a reason to agonize over it later. After all, he was just a kid.

As they walked through the hallway, Roy noted the house was decorated rather normally, and Roy felt as if Ling’s parents were going to come out at any time. The living room had a couch and a coffee table, a big TV on the wall above the fireplace. It wasn’t ‘fancy’ by any means, but neither modest. Taking in more of his surroundings, Roy noted the large picture of the Xing capital on the wall.

“Is that your bike out there?” Roy heard, pulling him from his observations. He turned to look over at Ed.

“Yeah!” Ling nodded excitedly. “It’s the X-3005!”

“That’s freaking sweet!” Roy couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Ed so happy. His face lit up like a child’s on Christmas Morning. “I was trying to get my girlfriend to let me buy the BDR-889 but she says I’m only going to hurt myself.”

The young Xingese man laughed, holding his stomach as he did so. “All girls would say that. No! Don’t sell yourself short. The X class is where it’s at,” he gushed. “The BDRs are bikes for commuters. I will give credit where it’s due, they have great gas mileage, and they’re incredibly reliable, but they just aren’t as powerful.”

Roy’s eyes widened as he saw the connection right away.

“Come check out my garage!”

And just like that, his protege and Ling walked through the house and into the garage. Slightly bewildered, Roy watched the two of them walk off without him. Roy didn’t even think they remembered why he was there, or even if he existed at all. That was fine, though. It gave him time to walk slowly through to the garage after them, and take in as much as he could about the house.

It was quiet, the boards creaked under his feet. There was Xingese music playing in the garage and he heard Ed laughing. The kitchen was full of dishes, and there was a pizza box on the counter. It was finally starting to look like a young man lived there. On the dining table, in the same room, there was a computer and several books. As Roy rose onto his tiptoes to see as he passed by, he noticed Ling was studying law, Amestrian Law. He nodded and walked down the hallway. There were more pictures of Xing, and one of Ling, and what he guessed was his entire family. There were nearly 20 people in the photo. Maybe they were his friends? There were older people in there too. Roy tilted his head as he began to wonder who was in the picture.

“My girl Lan Fan hates it!”

Roy raised his eyebrow. Ed was doing exactly what he needed to be doing. It’d loosen Ling Yao up just enough so that he’d talk more casually.

Roy peered carefully into one room as he walked by, noticing that it had a few sets of weights in it. On the wall sat a few Xingese-type swords. They weren’t Amestrian at all. Leaning slightly further in the doorway, he also noticed some kunai knives. They sat more as a decoration on the wall, though Roy was curious if Ling knew how to use them. There were two mats on the floor, a mirror on the wall, and resistance bands on the floor. He nodded, his hair swaying as he returned to the hall. There were stairs on his left before he reached the garage, but Roy decided not to push his luck. He’d seen enough in his slow sweep. The house was just too clean. It was too big for just an Ambassador’s son to be living in by himself.

“No way!”

Roy gave in and walked the last few feet towards the garage, coming to a stop so he could lean on the doorframe. Ed was sitting on a jetski with a huge grin on his face.

“I’m serious,” Ling nodded excitedly. “We can go out! I’ll take you anytime!”

“This weekend?”

Ling nodded to Ed.

“This is freaking awesome!” Ed thrust his hands into the air.

Roy couldn’t help but laugh.

“Even for a twenty-year-old, you have so many toys.”

Ling laughed loudly again. “I’m eighteen. I just look older.”

Ed’s hands fell to his side. “You’re younger than me?”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“But,” Ed blinked with a sad face. “You’re taller than me…”

The two stared at one another for what seemed like too long. Roy finally spoke. “I don’t mean to interrupt. I just have a few questions to ask, then I can let you two go back to the jet ski.”

“Sure,” Ling crossed his arms and turned to face Roy.

“You remember Selim Bradley’s birthday party two weeks ago?”

“Oh yeah,” Ling nodded as he put out an arm to lean on a car in the garage. It was another sports car that now had Roy distracted. “Crappy party. There wasn't a birthday cake. There was this rich fudge stuff and they gave me a little spoon.” He pinched his finger and his thumb together to indicate ‘small.’ “There wasn’t an actual meal, just o’dourves. They were good though. And they didn’t have beer either! Usually, I don’t mind wine, but a beer would have been great since they didn’t have a regular birthday cake.”

Roy nodded his head slowly.

“I actually brought the kid a birthday present and didn’t even see the kid!”

“I just wish I went to a party that had o‘dourves,” Ed commented quietly behind Ling.

“Well,” Ling turned now to face Ed. “I was there by proxy. Ambassador Fu likes to take me so that I can learn the tricks of the trade.” He faced Roy. “To be political,” he made quotation marks with his fingers.

Roy nodded slowly. Didn’t Raven say…

“I really didn’t want to be there. My girlfriend, Lan Fan was having a bonfire. I left as soon as I could. Bonfires have better food anyway. I think I ate fifty marshmallows.”

Ed laughed. “That’s easy.”

“Next bonfire,” Ling pointed his finger at Ed, challenging him. “You are on!”

“Okay,” Roy interrupted calmly as he raised his hand. “So you left…”

“Yeah. That was that.”

“Did you see a sword?”

Ling scoffed. “No.”

“You didn’t see a military sword?” Ed clarified.

Ling shook his head. “I would’ve been all over that.”

Roy nodded and sighed loudly. “I’m guessing you’re not one to show off swords of all kinds?”

“The only real sword is from Xing,” Ling laughed loudly. “Sabers are of Amestris. I think you also have a few rapiers, but Aerugo traditionally fights with rapiers.” Ling took a fencing stance and acted as if he was fencing. The young man was very amusing, and free talking.

“You don’t want an Amestrian sword?”

“A saber? Naw,” Ling snorted a laugh. “I’m from Xing. What would I do with a saber?”

“Just to show off. I saw your work out room. You have some nice swords on the wall.”

Ling nodded. “But you don’t see any saber -” he stopped and his face became serious. “Are you insinuating that I stole something of King Bradley’s?”

Roy chuckled. “Maybe…”

“No, Man.” Ling shook his hands in front of his face. “Stealing is low. I’m the Xingese President’s son! I do not stoop that low. In fact, I’m offended that you even insinuated it!”

“No offense meant,” Ed quickly called from behind. “We just have to ask. We were asked to find it and were hoping you knew where it was.”

Ling shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have it. I ate a few of those fancy finger foods and left.”

“No sword?” Roy asked seriously.

Ling shook his head.

“I’m sure you hear quite a bit, being in and out of official offices.” Roy reached into his pocket. “Will you call me if you hear anything, anything at all?”

Ling shook his head and put his hands in his pockets. “Not my thing, Mr. Mustang. It’s not my property, not really worried about it.”

“Can you give me a call,” Ed asked, walking up next to Ling.

“Yeah, le me get you my info and we can go out tomorrow or Sunday and ride some waves!”

Ling and Edward pushed past Roy and into the kitchen. He nodded with a grin.

Ling was as innocent as they could get. But a frown soon followed on Roy’s face. Now the investigation was getting deeper than a stolen sword. He walked to the front door and leaned against it, hearing the two young men exchange contact information. It was obvious that Senator Raven lied about it being invitation only, and it was Bradley’s house. He scratched his cheek in thought.

“Are you going to see King Bradley?”

Roy turned to see the two walk from the living room to the entryway.

“It was his house. Oh! I have tickets to this dinner they are having. The Bradleys like to entertain, but they are so annoying.” Ling dropped his head to the side with a groan. “They talk too much. Anyway, it’s some fundraiser for exchange students… or something like that. I have no idea. It’s invitation only. You should go! Maybe you can talk to someone there!”

“Will there be the same crowd there?” Ed walked next to Roy.

“Mostly. Maybe more.” Ling ran over to the mantle and grabbed two letters from it, handing them to Roy. “That will get you in. Free fancy food and wine!”

“Thanks!” Ed raised his hand and the two high-fived.

“See you Saturday!”

Roy opened the door. “Thank you for your help, Ling,” Roy called as he walked out the door.

They walked calmly to the car, Ed trying not to jump in excitement too much and remain professional. Roy could see right through it.

“You did really well in there,” he complimented.

“Huh?” Ed opened his door.

“Just… Good job.”

“What did I do?”

Roy just grinned and got into his side of the car. “You did everything you should’ve done.”

*          *          *

A headache was beginning to form fairly quickly in Roy’s head. He’d spent too long looking at the same photographs, with his mind going into overdrive, trying to write up motivations for possible suspects. His eyes drooped as he looked at his computer screen, typing up the last thought he had so that he didn’t lose it. Even that felt like an extreme effort. Hitting period, he sat back in his chair, defeated at the moment. This was taking too long. Everything felt unorganized and he had no solid lead yet. He hated it. He needed results, he needed something to go on, he needed…

“I need a coffee,” he muttered to himself.

A good boost of caffeine would fuel him for the rest of the afternoon. Rebecca and Jean were already out on their lunch. Edward had left to do the same shortly after the couple, mumbling about going to meet his girlfriend, Winry. Roy had been adamant he’d work through lunch and try and get a solid lead by the end of Friday afternoon, but that goal was slowly becoming impossible. Admitting defeat and locking the office door, Roy made his way tiredly to his car.

Although there were two coffee shops closer to the office than Metric Coffee, Roy felt he needed some good coffee for his lunch break in order to get him through the rest of the day. Plus, they did delicious doughnuts. He could use a doughnut.

He pulled up across the street in his car and parked. As he crossed the road, his heart leapt in his throat as he spotted a familiar-looking dog outside. He faltered in his step before picking up his pace to almost jog to the cafe. Feeling flushed, Roy pushed open the door, as his eyes instantly searched for a familiar blonde head. Despite the excitement, he reminded himself that there was more than one Shiba Inu in Central.

Looking down the line, he didn’t see her. Riza wasn’t at any of the tables either. His face fell, and he sulked as he moved to the line. She wasn’t here. Roy exhaled loudly, feeling disappointment wash over him.

It was short-lived. To his left, he caught movement out the corner of his eye, slightly behind him. The door to the customer toilets opened, and Riza walked out of it. She turned, making sure the toilet door closed softly, before shouldering her purse more securely, and moved to join the back of the line. She didn’t see him, he was too far up the line, and she didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her surroundings. She was dressed in what had to be her work clothes, wearing a simple white blouse and black dress pants. A black cardigan covered her shoulders, which looked light enough that it wouldn’t be too warm to wear in the summer heat, but would also protect against the gentle breeze outside.

Roy took a step forward in the queue, momentarily distracted. His emotions whiplashed as excitement coursed through him. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but promptly closed it. If he didn’t say anything, he would be able to buy her a coffee like he’d offered to.

“What will it be, Sir?” the server asked politely.

“A black coffee, please.” Indecision ruled him for a moment before he grinned with confidence. “And a caramel latte as well, please.”

“Of course.”

With both drinks in hand, he walked towards her, unable to keep the grin off his face. Noticing movement out the corner of her eye, Riza looked up from her phone. Her eyebrows had been drawn together again, a deep frown on her face as she studied the contents of her phone. However, her expression relaxed as their eyes met, and a smile spread across her face in a way that made Roy’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he greeted. It was like he was welcoming a long lost friend back into his life, that’s how happy he was to see her.

“Hello, Roy.” She glanced down at the drink he’d extended to her. “What’s this for?” She looked slightly confused at the offer, but still looked happy to see him.

“I did say I would buy you a coffee,” he reminded her.

“You did,” she agreed dryly. “That was very kind of you.” She took the drink from him carefully but their fingers still brushed, her fingers slipping alongside his. Roy felt a jolt go through his hand and he tried to hide his breath stuttering and the way his hand flinched at the electric sizzle of their connection. He kept his eyes on her drink and ignored the strong urge to look up to see if Riza had a similar reaction. Instead, he heard a sincere, “Thank you, Roy.” He glanced up at her face this time, noticing the softening smile gracing her features.

“Don’t mention it,” he beamed. His fingers were still tingling after brushing against hers, a feeling he relished. Roy slipped his free hand into his pocket, making a fist as the warmth there continued to spread through his hand.

“You got my order right as well,” Riza commented with a raised eyebrow. “I’m beginning to think you really do stalk me,” she smirked.

Roy held up both hands in surrender. “I’m not. I promise,” he urged. “I overheard you order it the last few times and I took a wild guess of what you might like today,” he joked.

“I’m kidding, Roy,” she laughed, patting his shoulder playfully. Her smile reached her eyes as she grinned at him. “Listen...” Riza turned to look outside to where her dog was waiting patiently for her. “I’m going to take a walk to the park with Hayate on my lunch break. Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, of course!” He was ecstatic. She’d offered him the chance to accompany her and he wasn’t going to turn it down. Riza eyed him for a second, clearly amused by his enthusiasm, but Roy didn't care. His headache was very quickly dissipating and his mood was rising exponentially. He hadn’t even realized he’d forgotten about his doughnut.

So, the two of them walked to the park with Hayate, each sipping at their hot drinks. They crossed over the street into the shade. Every so often there would be a break in the buildings and the sun would pour through, turning her hair golden. Roy felt as though he was caught in a trance every time he noticed the change in colour. That was his downfall because she must have felt his eyes on her. Riza looked over and found him staring. A light dusting of pink covered the bridge of her nose and her cheeks as she looked away. He felt embarrassed for gazing at her so openly so he coughed nervously, tearing his eyes away.

“Do you always walk Hayate on your lunch break?” Roy asked.

Riza nodded. “I do. My apartment isn’t too far from my work, so I go home and pick up Hayate to let him out for a while.” She glanced down at the pup. “I don’t like leaving him home alone all day.”

“He seems to be a very well behaved dog,” Roy commented, watching Hayate sniff at the ground as they walked.

“He is. I hit the jackpot with his temperament. He’s the calmest dog I’ve ever met.”

Hayate would stray off towards something that caught his interest as they walked, but wouldn’t pull or walk too far from Riza’s side. His tongue lolled happily as he explored the world, curiously looking up at people who passed by them. Every time someone showed some interest in the dog, his tail would begin to wag.

“That’s good then,” Roy considered. “Especially if he’s home alone quite a lot.”

Riza agreed. “It certainly makes things easier. I haven’t come across him destroying anything yet while I’m at work,” she chuckled. “But I like to think that he knows better than to try a stunt like that.” She tilted her head forward, narrowing her eyes playfully at Hayate.

Hayate barked in response, walking closer to Riza’s side and remaining there.

They arrived at a crossing, so stopped as they waited for traffic to stop. Roy noticed Hayate heeled perfectly without any need for a command from Riza. Across the road, the greenery of the park stretched out before them.

“I normally take Hayate to the dog park instead of walking around the park itself,” Riza explained. “It means I can let him off the lead and not worry too much about where he will wander off to.”

“Is he a wanderer?” Roy smiled.

“Hm… He likes to explore.” Riza glanced down at her dog affectionately. “And can get a little hyperactive if he finds something really interesting. But he always comes back.”

The park was busy. Like them, there were business people sitting on benches and chatting as they enjoyed their lunches. A couple of cyclists passed by them, giving poor Hayate a fright. He jumped and scurried close to Riza’s side as they walked towards the dog park. Riza stopped in place, crouching to soothe him. She smiled kindly at her dog, explaining that it was just a bike that had given him a fright, letting out a short laugh. From her tone, it was like a mother talking to a child. It endeared Roy to her even more.

Again, he was caught staring, but this time Roy grinned at her as Riza straightened and they continued to walk.

“Poor dog,” Roy commented. Hayate still stuck close to Riza’s side as they walked, head looking around for any more potentially frightening things coming his way.

Riza shook her head fondly. “He doesn’t like cyclists.”

The dog park wasn’t too busy, but there would be plenty of dogs for Hayate to play with if he decided to venture their way. People were walking around the path inside the fenced-off area. Owners sat at the various benches spread around the park while their dogs either sat obediently by their side or running around and playing with other dogs. Riza crouched and let the Shiba off his leash, giving him a free run of the park. Anywhere he went they’d be able to see him. Riza was happy to let him go off and do his own thing.

“I normally sit for a while as Hayate runs around for a bit.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Roy agreed. It would give them time to finish their drinks. Roy didn’t have anything to eat, but he could always pick something up on the way back and eat it at his desk. It was only then that he remembered about his doughnut quest. He felt he didn’t need it now though. Talking to Riza was a better remedy than any sweet treat.

From her purse, Riza pulled out a prepacked sandwich and began to unwrap it. She glanced up at him expectantly. “Do you have anything to eat with you?”

He shook his head, lifting up his coffee cup. “This will fuel me for a little while.”

“You should still eat,” she frowned. Looking over her shoulder, Riza turned to look for something. “There’s normally a food van around the park.” She turned back to face him but looked past his shoulder, still searching. “I don’t know where it is though. That sells hot food.”

He appreciated the effort, but reassured Riza he’d be fine. “I’ll pick something up on my way back to the office.”

“Are you sure? We can walk around and look -”

“I’ll be fine, Riza. I swear,” he chuckled. His expression softened as she met his gaze. “I promise, I will eat. I may be a bachelor but I can still look after myself,” he smirked.

“Good.” Riza relaxed.

He hoped offering up some more personal information about himself would steer the conversation towards getting to know each other better. Riza had been a mystery to him for so long that he was eager to learn more. From what he already knew and had witnessed, she endeared him. Even as she ate her lunch, she took dainty bites of her sandwich and met his gaze while they spoke, but every so often she would glance away to check on Hayate.

“So, will it be a busy afternoon for you once you go back to work?”

Riza shook her head. “It’s a Friday and work can slow right down in the afternoon. However, I do have some reports due for an audit soon.” She shrugged. “It’s easy enough, just a lot of paperwork to trawl through.”

“I hear you,” Roy replied.

“Will it be a late one for you?”

Roy grimaced. “Probably. I think I’ll need more coffee later,” he laughed. “But I don’t mind too much. I get intrigued easily by cases and often fall in deep if they’re good.”

“And your co-workers don’t mind working late?”

Roy shook his head. “They’re not required to do overtime. I wouldn’t ask them too either unless they were really interested in a case, so they’re free to go whenever they want to. I’ll probably just order some take out later and eat it at the office.”

“I’m lucky then that I don’t have to work late at the office.”

“Would anyone mind if you did?”

She offered him a wry smile. “Someone is fishing,” Riza snickered.

Roy was confused by her comment, then his eyes widened. “Oh no! No, that’s not what I meant,” he stammered. “I meant, if your friends would mind if you worked late. It’s a Friday night, after all. Surely you have some big plans?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No. I’ve got no plans this evening. I foresee a large glass of wine in my future while I sit on my couch with my dog.” She glanced back over to check on Hayate. He was busy chasing a large labrador.

“I’m surprised,” Roy replied. “I mean, that kind of night in does sound great…” He wished he had a plan like that for this weekend, but duty called. “But I would’ve thought a pretty lady like yourself would have grand plans for the weekend.”

Her cheeks turned a light pink and she dropped her gaze with a smile, observing her sandwich and picking at the wrapper. Roy grinned to himself, enjoying how beautiful the light blush looked on her cheeks.

“No grand plans,” she replied.

“Okay then… Well, what would you say to dinner sometime then?” he ventured.

She lifted an eyebrow. “So you were fishing then?”

“That’s for me to know,” Roy smirked.

“And for me to find out?”

“Come to dinner with me, and you might find out,” he quipped. He wasn’t desperate, it was an innocent offer, but he couldn’t rid himself of the jolt he’d experienced when their fingers brushed together earlier.

“Hm, that’s a lot of effort just to try and find that out,” she hummed, lifting her cup to take a sip of her latte. Riza looked at him expectantly after her light challenge.

Roy’s stomach dropped. “Lunch then?” he asked.

Riza regarded him quietly, then her expression softened. “I can’t do lunch any time soon.”

Roy’s face fell, but he nodded in understanding regardless.

“So, I guess, dinner will just have to do.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she spoke.

The widest smile spread from ear to ear across Roy’s face. “Great! I mean, great. Good. I know it’s short notice, but how about tomorrow?”

Riza cocked her head to the side in thought. “Tomorrow should be fine.”

“Where do you want to go?” Roy asked eagerly.

“Nowhere uptown,” Riza shook her head. “Anywhere else… Will be fine.”

Uptown… Roy nodded. He could do that. He didn’t particularly enjoy that side of town either. It was too fancy for his tastes, and his wallet. Simple meals were far too expensive, and after his week of dealing with rich people and their associates, Roy was more than ready to just unwind and go somewhere simple with good food.

“It’s a date.” Excitement and happiness coursed through his body.

Riza laughed quietly at his statement and glanced down at her paper cup. After a brief second, she looked back up at him with a small but entirely genuine smile on her face.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #snowdog49 #a conspiracy theory #collab fic #emma writes

[owletstarlet]

Tanuma!

[Message me a character and I’ll tell you five headcanons I have about them]

1. Tanuma’s decent at caring for different types house plants. His dad liked to keep them in the house and temple buildings, and it’s probably always been one of his daily chores to water them and check up on their condition. He enjoys it, though, and finds it calming, and while far from being an expert, he owns a few books on house plants and has a knack for keeping finicky plants and flowers alive. I think he keeps a few succulents in his room because he likes the way they look and they’re lower day-to-day maintenance (he’s got it in the back of his head that if he’s fully responsible for looking after his own plants it would be better to not choose ones that might die easily because their tiny lives depend on him and he can’t be a bad plant dad to his own plants.) Natsume gave him at least one of the succulents, and he will take it to the grave just how long he spent in the shop with Touko agonizing over which one to buy while she tried not to giggle over it…and meanwhile Tanuma’s just standing there with the little thing cupped gently in his hands, having distressing heart palpitations over how freaking thoughtful of a gift this is, and kind of blurting “I promise I won’t let it die” before he even manages the “thank you.”

I’m also all over the idea of Tanuma ending up giving Touko houseplant tips, which I imagine would begin when she offhand mentions having some difficulty with an orchid or something equally finicky that had been a gift to her from a friend. And Tanuma, who’s there for dinner, says without really thinking about it, “Oh, have you tried [insert plant advice here]?” And he’d be immediately be lowkey embarrassed for having been presumptuous with unsolicited advice or whatever, but Touko is absolutely delighted, because she’s sensed that it’s difficult for him to talk about himself (a trait she’s familiar with in Natsume), and virtually everything she does know about him has come from Natsume. She furthermore knows that he’s very, very important to Natsume and wants him to be able to feel comfortable around her and Shigeru. She figures it’s a pretty harmless topic to press him about, and in the end, the orchid is saved, Touko ends up with several solid suggestions for indoor flowering plants that are less temperamental to brighten up the kitchen (one of which he’d later go with Natsume to pick out to surprise her on her birthday), and Crucial Bonding Time has occurred.    

2.       Tanuma wears reading glasses sometimes, almost never outside his own house, but one day Natsume drops by while he’d forgotten he was wearing them…naturally Tanuma gets shy about it, and takes them off so fast they end up on the floor, but Natsume’s reaction pretty much amounts to “……………..💓.” Depending how long they’ve known each other he may or may not fumble his way through telling Tanuma that they look nice on him, and wanting to sink through the floor himself by the end of it. Speaking of which, I am all for that popular headcanon that Tanuma wears glasses when he’s a bit older, even if it’s implied that it’s for exorcist-type reasons, because it’s also typically accepted that Natsume Really Appreciates said glasses.

3. Tanuma’s surprisingly good at climbing trees. There was ample opportunity for him growing up in and around the grounds of rural temples. And on the days when he was feeling just fine and was excited to be outside, his dad had the concern in the back of his mind for awhile that he’d fall and break half his bones, and would sometimes go and discretely recite some prayers out by the trees in question. But he never had any bad falls, and found being up surrounded by leaves and birds and soft breezes to be soothing, especially if he was having an anxious day. The only time he did get pretty banged up falling out of a tree was because he literally fell asleep up there…and once it was clear he wasn’t seriously injured, his dad was torn between sympathy and amusement.

4. Tanuma’s Aunt Satomi has tried to take him shopping a few times, in part to be able to spend time with him, and in part because he’ll often wear stuff until it’s a little shabby looking. She knows his dad doesn’t really have much money to spare, and she wants to treat him to some decent quality clothes that will hopefully last him awhile. But clothes shopping with her nephew turns out to be a bit of a vexing experience for Satomi. Not because she wants to control what he chooses; she’d assumed he’d be drawn to plain clothing in subdued colors like everything he already owns, and that he’d be uncomfortable if she tried to spend a lot of money. But the first time they go out, with the intention of finding a handful of shirts, she is not expecting him to come back to her after just five minutes when she’d shooed him along to go choose what he likes in the very first store they visit, with three plain dark t-shirts in his hands obviously all selected from the same display, like “I’ve got them, where do we go to check out?” And he is legitimately confused when she tells them to at least try them on if those are what he wants, and his thought process is more or less but…they’re mediums, and that’s the same as all my shirts at home…and the colors are good and if I tried them she’d have to sit and wait for me…I Fail To Recognize The Problem Here... Additionally, he gets overwhelmed in crowded public spaces like malls much more easily than Satomi had anticipated, which she might not comprehend but is compassionate about, so she’ll call it a day when he starts to look nauseous. So all in all she figures it’d be kinder to just send him money for clothes on his birthday and take him to a park or shrine next time she wants to see him. However, she gives his dad the gentle advice to make sure that he actually tries clothing on his body before leaving a shop with it.

5. For Tanuma’s birthday one year, Taki and Natsume collaborate on a surprise, to help him see the koi in his back garden pond. It was Taki’s idea initially, and as it obviously involved her circles, Natsume was reticent at first, but with the understanding that it would be small, only active for a short period of time, and would make him so goddamned happy if they could actually get it to work, he agrees. They don’t really get much chance to test it out in advance, because Tanuma’s house is the only place that Natsume knows of that has a visible amount of water spirits confined in a small area. However, the basic idea’s pretty simple, just sink a larger flat stone with the symbol painted on it (maybe even a patio tile or something similar) into the pond’s bottom, and see if any of the koi brush against it as they pass by, or if they could become visible merely by passing through the water above it. Sensei’s doubtful that it will work, because even if it did work he thinks they’d intentionally swim around it, but when Natsume is able to distract Tanuma long enough for Taki to go out to the pond and test it, she comes back in with the biggest smile on her face and tells them to come outside. And it does take a few minutes, the three of them crouched down over still surface of the water with bated breath. But then there’s a glint of sunlight off a vermillion-colored scale, just at the circle’s edge… And Tanuma’s just sitting there with his hand smushed against his mouth making a valiant but futile effort not to cry. Because of course the fish are incredible and he’d stare at them all day if he could but there’s a healthy dose of You Guys Are The Best in the mix too…it’s dizzying for him to have gone from being virtually friendless for years to having friends who care about him so intensely they’d do something like this for him. Anyhow, he keeps the rock wrapped up tight in a few old towels and t shirts, and if his dad ever comes across it, he just lets it be.

#just when i think i couldn't possibly come up with more tanuma headcanons #here we go #thanks for the ask :) #natsume yuujinchou #tanuma kaname #taki tooru #natsume takashi #fujiwara touko #natsume's book of friends #natsuyuu #aceteling #tanunatsu #owlet's headcanons #ask meme

[elejahfanfic]

Hello Love/4

Fanfiction

Part 4

This is an AU story with tvd/to characters. All human, no vampires or witches.

A sweet fluffy love story, ft. Klaroline, Kennett, Jebekah (Rebekah and Jackson!)

but the main pairing is Miguel Galindo x Elena Gilbert

since I love to write crossover au’s, here I am borrowing Miguel Galindo from MayansMC...played by Danny Pino.

Yemaya is played by Zoe Saldana.

tag_  @miguelsbrat​

Thank you for reading. It means a lot.

✽-(●◡●)/✽

***

The next day, Caroline had to call Elena first thing in the morning to tell her about her date.

"Danielle's-it was so good that it seems so unreal- and he was a perfect gentleman. I thought that they don't exist "Caroline swooned.

"Sounds unreal " Elena said.

"I know. But- Please let me have this, let me dream he is out of the ordinary."

"Just because crap happens to me. Things don't have to happen to you."

Elena now shared that Miguel and Rebekah came to the bakery shop and that she got the comission to make Cristobal’s birthday cake, aslod adding that Rebekah had invited them for lunch at Rafa's.

Yemaya couldn't make it as she was busy following a lead on a story, with Stefan, of course. She reported though that she and Stefan talked about their one nighter, and decided to  remain colleagues and that her career was important to her.

"She is crazy." Caroline said as she put the phone down after having spoken to Yemaya.

 "It’s her life.”Elena said, “anyway I talked to my aunt Jenna. She called me like at 3 a.m. She is coming back like in a couple of weeks. She has an exhibition or something."

"So her excavations went well?!" Caroline concluded.

"Yep. It will be so good seeing her. And so when are you meeting Klaus again?"

"Tomorrow night. Talking about exhibitions- there is one of his favourite architect Le Courbisier- now explain the Damon kiss?!"

"There is nothing to explain. He kissed me- but I didn't kiss him back - and when I said that we are done. We are done! He can do what he wants. I really don't care. Can we not talk about Damon ever again."

“Sure.” Caroline said and then said that she had to hang up as she had to rush.

A couple of hours later, Rebekah, Elena and Caroline ventured into one of their favourite restaurants. As they ordered, the first topic was Caroline’s date with Klaus.

"Ok - this is kind wierd, but I can’t tell him who to date or not. I got to tell you this. He is a great charmer and- I have told him if he breaks your heart he will be dealing with me!"

"I didn't mean to be negative. But, I like our friendship- and I wouldn't  want to lose that if something went wrong if I dated your brother " Elena explained.

She had a valid point.

"You would want to date my brother?" Rebekah then confronted Elena with a question she didn't expect.

"No. I was just saying." Elena quickly blurted out.

"I thought you liked Miguel?! I mean- yesterday-  you spent quite a lot of time talking to him" Rebekah would sometimes be too blind and straight forward putting a person on the spot.

"I was talking to all of you!" Elena defended herself and was now blushing. " I like him. Ok - I’ve said that I don't want to date anybody. I am not ready."

"Miguel hasn't dated in like- forever." Rebekah said.

"So, he seriously hasn't been with anyone since his wife died?! That’s like ten years" Caroline said.

"Not that I know of. I don't think he is capable of one night stands. He was always romantic and by the book. He takes the girl out and marries her!" Rebekah joked."He was born serious!"

Before they could continue Caroline's phone rang and it was Yemaya on the phone. She was frantically explaining to her friend that she was on the way to the hospital and that Stefan had been stabbed..

The lunch finished abruptly, and Rebekah now called her father, and then her office. All three women rushed to the hospital. Stefan and Yemaya were their friends for a long while, and they had to be there for both of them.

Elena was on the phone to her co-worker explaining that she would not be returning to the shop.

Caroline could not stay long as her father called her back to the office, as there was a new important client she had to meet.

"I'll be back when I am done with the meeting!"- she assured Yemaya, who was completely distressed.

At the hospital exit, Caroline bumped into her mother, who was now on the case. They just quickly exchanged words and Liz now went up to talk to Yemaya.

Damon arrived wanting answer about what had happened. Katherine was with him.

Elena explained what Yemaya told them, and that was that he was following up a story about gangs. Damon was furious, as Stefan would go for a good story to the most shady places and dealing with all kinds of criminals if necessary. There were numerous times that Damon would go with him and there had been occasions where they nearly didn't make it out of a bad situation.

Rebekah came up to them. She informed them that Miguel was operating with his team.

"Stefan is in good hands!" she said to Damon.

Krystal now took Damon away from them.

Rebekah now slipped to Elena nearly whispering.

"So much about Krystal being just a glitch!” Rebekah remarked.

“Well, I wish them all the luck in the world” Elena said, turning to Yemaya and  offered her the cup with the coffee and a sandwich.

"I can't eat!" Yemaya said. "Thanks yo so much, Elena. Oh- I just hope he is all right! He must be all right!!!"

"He will be all right. Rebekah's brother is operating and he is like the best of the best."

"How do you know?!" Yemaya slipped and then apologized, wrenching her hands with worry.

"I googled it!" Elena then said. "He is like the top cardiothoracic surgeon in the world- the best! Stefan will be fine!" She encouraged her friend to think positively. She said a little prayer inside herself. Stefan was a really good friend, she had met when he still lived in her building. They were neighbours. He had a crash on her, but he never told her, as he saw that she started showing interest in his brother. Their friendship grew into something strong and solid.

The wait was agonizing and the four of them kept quiet, although Damon was pacing back and forth several times. Finally, Miguel came out and now was asking who the next of kin was to give them the report.

Damon came up to him, explaining that he was Stefan's brother.

Miguel had promising news. The operation went well, although it was a chest wound. Damon would be able to see him in a little while.

Then he noticed Elena there, and greeted her cordially. She nodded saying a faintly hello. He excused himself and went away.

Not long after, the nurse came to Damon to take him to the ICU where Stefan was sent to.

When he got to the room, seeing Stefan hooked up on the machines monitoring his heartbeat and other vitals, overwhelmed Damon.

"Damn you, Stefan -what were you thinking - that you are not invincible." he muttered with mixure of pain and anger looking at his brother who was still unconscious.

Damon was a terrible womanizer, but when it came to Stefan, he could give his life for him. ***

Elsewhere

Bonnie now switched her phone on and there were tones of messages notifying her about Stefan's stabbing. She returned Elena's calls and told her that she would be in hospital soon. Then she called Kol to let him know why she was changing their plans for the night.

Charly knocked at her office door and Bonnie invited her in.

"Hi.How can I help you?" Bonnie said.

"Ms Bennett, I know I am probably late, but I was wondering if I could still do the audition for the musical?"

"Of course," Bonnie said, "Singing or - would you like the role of the narrator?"

"Singing, reading, anything. I want to be in the school play!" Cristobal said.

"Good. I will put your name down. It is with Mr Petrov on Wednesday at the School's Drama Hall. Details will be hung at the board just outside my office."

"Thank you." Cristobal said, happy that he got into the play.

Bonnie now got ready to leave herself.

***

Back in the hospital, Yemaya now asked if she could see Stefan but the nurse said that only the surgeon could authorize it, since she wasn't family.

Elena now told her friend to wait and she went to see where Elijah was and if he was available. The nurse directed her to his study.

She knocked at the door and when she heard him say to come in, she gulped a bit and then walked in.

"Elena?!" Miguel stood up surprised to see that it was her.

"I apologize for disturbing you. My friend has been told that you are the only person who can authorize visits. Yemaya is Stefan colleague, and practically his girlfriend, although it is not official."- she knew she went into the rambling zone, and hated that she was like this in front of him.

"Yes- All right. What is her name?" Miguel picked the phone to call the nurses station.

"Yemaya Baker!" Elena said.

He repeated it and then tol her how long Yemaya could stay.

"Thank you," Elena said,"I usually don't do this-use my friendship connections- but-"

"I understand. One can always make an exception. "

"Yes. Thank you!" And as she wanted to leave now, he uttered,"Elena-"

"Ha- Yes?" the brunette  turned around lookina at the surgeon breathing in through her nose, her stomach flipping uncontrolably again.

A knock at the door made both flinch. A man now entered, interruping them.

"Oh-excuse me. I didn't know that you were with a patient- You said you were done-" Dr Shepherd said.

"Uhm -yes," Miguel said and looked at his colleague.

"I will not keep you." Elena said and walked out of the office.

Elena's phone rang and it was Caroline following up on the message she received earlier.

"I'll be going home soon. I'll see you tomorrow." Elena said and hung up.

Bonnie offered to stay and wait for Yemaya, and so Elena left the hospital.

She wanted to walk and so she took off slowly through the nearby park. She wanted to clear her mind and try to make sense of her stomach making somersault everyt time she was around Miguel. 

***

Sometime later, Miguel went to checked upon Stefan, before he left the hospital, who was stable. He then told the nurses that Yemaya could see him on the daily basis.

As he got into his office, he rang Cristobal, who informed him that he was with Henrik and his friends.

“Right. I guess you will sleep over again?”

“No. Grandma’s chauffeur will drive me home.”

“All right then. Have a great time.” Miguel said.

“Ok. Night, papa.”

“Night, mi hijo.” Miguel said and as he picked up his jacket and bag, he exited his office.

He rarely put the radio on, but now he did. It played 'All of the Stars'. At a junction, instead of turning right to take the road to the house, he turned left. Soon he found himself parking not far from the cafe where he first met Elena by chance. It was closed when he got to it as it was only open till six o'clock.

It's just another night And I'm staring at the moon I saw a shooting star And thought of you

"Hello-" a familiar voice said, and he nearly jumped, turning around.

"Hello!" he said somewhat clumsily.

"I saw you- uhm this is closed - but the bar just here is open." Elena showed him the bar she had been in "they have great wine - you can join me if you’d like"

"I'd love to have a glass of wine!" he said with as small smile dancing up on his face and now followed Elena in.

Elena ordered their wine and eased into the conversation after a few sips.

"I don't know how much Rebekah has told you about me-"

"Not much really. Just some stuff."

"Just some stuff-"he repeated.

"It's not that bad. She is really happy you guys are back. Especially for Cristobal."

"Yes. Cristobal has really welcomed the move. I thought she would oppose." Miguel said and was surprised with what ease he could share something personal with the woman he had met just a few times.

"And you?” Elena asked.

"Same. I should have returned years ago.”

“Why didn’t you if you don’t mind me asking-”

"Rebekah probaby told you about my wife passing."

"She told us something - this must have been really so hard. I can’t even imagine it.”

“Cristobal was five years old - same as I when my parents were killed.” Miguel said taking a sip of the wine. He was clearly shook.

“I’m sorry - I didn’t want to - go there.“

“No - it is fine. I was lucky to have had the love and such great siblings, even thought I am adopted, but they have never made me feel like I’m not their real brother. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

Elena now told him about Jeremy and Jenna. as well as her parent's tragic accident.

"Jeremy was in his senior year, I was just finishing college. Our aunt Jenna came to live with us for a year.  Well, she lived with Jeremy. I was in the city. I miss them. Haven't been to my parent's house since Jeremy left to college."

"Memories." Miguel then said.

"Yeah- and Stefan being stabbed- just made me think how crazy life is. Everything can just end in a minute."

Then they both got quiet and Elena felt that the conversation went into a dead end street.

The waitress came up to them asking if they wanted anything more. Miguel declined as he was very conscious as to how much he drank. Elena declined as well. It seemed it was the end of the evening that wasn't going all too well. He offered to drive her home. Elena accepted.

"It's up and coming area. I plan on selling it and buying something closer to the Park."

As they arrived, he got out to see her to the door of her building.

"Thanks," she said, "this is me- fifth floor-ahm- thanks for the drink."

"Thank you." Miguel said dearly.

“What for -  it was  - you had a long day and I talked about me - sorry”

“It is fine. I loved listening to you talking” Miguel said.

“You did?”

“I did. You know -haven’t done this in a very long time - I -”

Strange awkwardness suddenly arose. And then there was this static encirling them from nowhere, that crackling in the air, a strange magical force field. Elena felt her face heat, and could hear her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Now or never. She stepped forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, slipping a faint good night.

His heart seized when she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and almost by accident, he turned into her silky caress, their lips so close he could smell the hint of cherry on her lips.They froze in the same split second and his pulse thudded slow and hard as she beamed her eyes at him.

Miguel’s full lips were only inches from hers. She could feel his warm breath brushing over her skin.Slowly his head now lowered toward hers.Then his lips found hers. He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her closer.His mouth moved over hers, tasting her fully. His lips soft but firm. She opened to him, and he slipped the hot tip of his tongue between her lips. Her body dissolved into his, shuddering slightly, letting a soft muffled moan out as he deepened the kiss.

So open your eyes and see The way our horizons meet And all of the lights will lead Into the night with me And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe  

#miguel galindo #elena gilbert #fanfiction #fanfiction au #alternative universe #alternate pairing #klaroline #danny pino #nina dobrev

[thenightling]

Why those seventy two years actually ARE a big deal to Morpheus

I’ve met a few people who don’t realize just now significant the time loss is for Morpheus in Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman.  There are those who have read Sandman but somehow think “Ah, that was a blink of an eye to him.  No big deal.”

But here, we’re told the truth of it in the very first issue of Sandman.

“Time moves no faster or my kind then it does for humanity, and in prison it crawled at a snail’s pace...” 

Think of what that means, what that really means.

The very first issue of Sandman has Morpheus captured and imprisoned in a crystalline cell surrounded in a magical binding circle. And he is kept there for seventy-two-years before he is finally able to escape this cage.   

Imagine yourself trapped in a windowless room, no way to determine day or night except by the changing of your own guards and eavesdropping on their conversations.  No entertainment, no merciful distraction.  Starving, but unable to die from the hunger.  The constant gnawing of the hunger only no one thinks to feed you.  And feeling that full brunt of the seventy-two-years like an adult human waiting, just waiting.  But it’s worse than that.  Physical and psychological hunger, isolation, and boredom coupled with something else...

There is no merciful escape of sleep. Morpheus does not dream.  He does not sleep.  He can be rendered unconscious but in general he does not sleep.  He can stare off into space and be lost to memory as vivid as a dream- memories of his own sordid past.  But that is as close as he gets to sleep and the capacity to dream. 

Also without the escape that is sleep and dreaming, that means his captivity likely feels at least a third longer than it would if he actually was human, able to do these things. 

Now, here’s something I always though about in regard to The Chronicles of Narnia with The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and the Pevensie children.  They were in Narnia for many years.  They grew up.  They weren’t children anymore.  And yet when they finally returned to the mundane world they were suddenly children again.  Even as a child I often wondered what that would be like if I had been one of them.

Imagine if you, as an adult, were suddenly thrust back into your ten-year-old self.  How would you adjust?  Could you even bring yourself to behave like that ten-year-old again?  Things that should be fresh to your child-self are now hazed by many other memories and experiences.  You have to remember your old teachers names, where your classroom was, what books you read, who your heroes were, and what your obsessions were at this particular time, what you used to do with your friends in the afternoons of that particular year, what your favorite toys were, how to play your old games, what your daily routines were, ect.  It would be very alien and all the while trying to seem perfectly like your child-self.  It would be a nightmare.

Similar happens to the protagonist of Phantastes by George MacDonald when Anodos returns to his old life after a full lifetime (and death) in a faerie realm.

Now imagine a king- a king who has been gone for seventy-two-years.  Try to just imagine having to recall your own subjects.  Names that should be at the front of your mind but seventy-two-years of alternating prison guards, being thrust insults, threats, bribes, and walls staring at you have muddled your own memory.   How long will it take to bounce back?

Sure, he’ll remember, he just needs a little time and a few reminders to push those memories to the front again.  He’s got a limitless (Endless) memory but after several decades you just try to remember all the people you knew twenty or thirty years ago, let alone seventy.   Even with s stellar memory it may take a little while to retrieve those memories from your mind-attic.  

So yeah, even for an immortal those years matter.   He’s out of sorts.  He’s suffered.  He’s suffered for a long time.  Hungry, weak, lonely, isolated, cut off from everything.  

And also consider he’s a powerful psychic entity (telepathically linked to his own servants) in his own realm.  To suddenly not be able to reach out with his mind is probably crushing, like losing one of your senses all of a sudden, being (in a way) deaf if you never were deaf before.  This is one of the many reasons I think he may have developed claustrophobia during and after his captivity.  

Immortal or not those years matter. That’s why he comes out changed, malleable, more willing to see the folly of his past.  He’s had a lot of time to think and to reflect and it was probably agonizing.   It was no “blink of an eye.”  It was a human-like prison sentence combined with nothing to do and the gnawing of an undying yet empty stomach.  He was tortured.   And that matters.  

So when the Sandman TV series finally comes to Netflix, if they capture this experience well, (and even if they don’t) try to remember this isn’t the usual impassioned immortal trope where they think of the time loss as no big deal. Consider how long it might take just to remember some of your neighbors names.  This is treated with the seriousness of how would a human-like mind in an undying body react to that sort of imprisonment.

The entire DC Universe is lucky he didn’t go mad.

Note, I almost headed this “Time will crawl” for @sorry-for-the-chocolate since she loves the Bowie song but if I did that it would be stuck in my head all night.

#Neil Gaiman #Neil Gaiman's The Sandman #Morpheus #Dream of The Endless #The Sandman #Netflix's The Sandman

[starryeyedkoo]

All Too Familiar - Kim Taehyung

Genre: knight!au, e2l!au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death and war, mature language, broken family, jealous tae, reader may be a little annoying until character development™

Word Count: 24.5k (i’m so sorry i got carried away)

Funny how the one person you were sure would completely confiscate your freedom brought you the closest you’d ever come to it. 

“What is this?” your father held in his hands a book with worn leather binding and yellowing pages. You felt your heart jump, unsure how he possibly could have found it. You scowled, thinking it must have been one of the servants that ratted you out.

“A book?” you lilted, blinking innocently.

“Yes, of course I know that, (y/n),” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I also know that this book is not from the palace library.” His voice became increasingly more accusing, and you found it harder and harder to keep a straight face, letting your guiltiness be known to the naked eye. “You went out into town again, didn’t you?” he bellowed.

“I wore a cloak and hid my face, and I only went to the little library down in the village. It’s not far from here. I was gone for at most an hour!” you defended. You should have known you would get caught one of these days, but you would rather have to apologize rather than never experience it. The little town outside the walls called to you. You longed for more than these stone walls, yet in all your years, you had only seen a minute fraction of the world outside.

“Do you know how much could happen in an hour? It’s too dangerous! How many times do I have to tell you—”

His lecture was interrupted by a man wearing a knight’s uniform tearing through the entrance to the throne room in a panic. “Your majesty!” he called out, voice strained as he knelt before the king.

“Speak,” your father commanded calmly.

“On behalf of Captain Lee, I must request reinforcements to be sent to the battle at Ambrosia Field,” the soldier explains, still panting from his frantic entrance. Your father’s face became solemn as he contemplated the next step to make. The soldier’s face became worried at his hesitance. “Please, forgive me for speaking out of turn, Your Majesty, but our men are getting slaughtered out there as we speak.”

You felt a heavy pit form in your stomach as his voice shook when those words passed his lips. As the princess, you should be able to live on as if the tragedy your people were facing wasn’t happening with the safe and sheltered life you lived within the walls of the castle. You knew that’s what your people thought of you, too, as you heard several times before, some subjects openly expressing their opinions while out in town, but secretly you suffered with them.

“I understand. I will have troops sent for support there.” With that, the soldier bowed and expressed his desperate gratitude before leaving just as distressed as he had entered, rushing to send support to his comrades. Your father turned slowly back to you, the heavy weight of running a kingdom evident in the deep wrinkles engraved into his face. He spoke suddenly, breaking through the solemn silence, “That’s it. It can’t be delayed any longer. You’re no longer safe, (y/n).”

He started out of the room with a quick pace, and you followed behind just as fast. “What? Father, what do you mean?”

“I mean I’m recruiting someone that will serve as protection for you at all times.”

Your eyes became wide and you quickened your steps even more to step into his line of sight. “Father, you can’t do that! I don’t need protection! Please don’t do that!” you begged, but it was too late, for he was no longer listening to you, and your freedom as you knew it was as good as gone.

You felt pain everywhere. In your head as your hair was being pulled far too tightly into a ridiculous braided updo that was always described as “only fit for a royal.” In your abdomen as your ladies in waiting squeezed you into a horrendously tight corset and a constricting dress over the top of it. In your legs as you had been standing for hours to get into this tent of a skirt with a far too uncomfortable cage hanging around your hips to create the rounded shape around your lower half.

You felt pain everywhere. In your mind as you repeated and rehearsed all of the speeches and formalities you would have to give at the ceremony today. In your heart as you felt your last sliver of freedom that you barely had to begin with slipping away between your fingertips.

Today was the day your father would assign your very own appointed night. While it sounds glamorous and exciting to have your own person following you around and ensuring your safety and obeying your every word, you’ve had plenty of these people surrounding you for your entire life, and honestly, you didn’t see why even a single guard was necessary.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness.” One of your ladies stood before you, still making a few adjustments to the hem of your oversized skirt. This particular lady, however, was the closest to your age, only three years older than you, and she was the closest thing you had to a friend.

“I don’t feel beautiful, Jiwoo.” You rolled your eyes at the reflection staring back at your from the other side of your floor length mirror. Luckily, your ladies-in-waiting never tattled to your father when you were being less than pleasant as you were right now, so you were able to voice your frustrations around them. However, you wished they would sometimes speak back to you. It often felt as if you were speaking to a wall when you were talking to them because they were all hesitant to converse so casually with their princess, even Jiwoo most of the time. It was lonely. You continued to complain to them anyways, even if you knew you would get no confirmation that they were even listening in the first place. “Why do I need to have an appointed night? Nothing ever happens here in the castle! The biggest worry I have around here is spilling my drink on one of my favorite dresses!”

“Well, His Majesty believes it is necessary, so it must be done,” Jiwoo speaks carefully as she continues to fiddle with the frills on your sleeve. You only huffed out in annoyance and silently waited to finally step down from the stool on which you were standing to make your way to the ceremony, long-awaited by many—long-dreaded in your case.

The walls of the castle ballroom were ornately decorated for such a special occasion, with banners draped across their gilded lines, and the floor was filled with nobles and visitors lucky enough to see the royal family up close. You weren’t even sure why they bothered to come to a ceremony for something that had absolutely no effect on them. Perhaps for bragging rights to say they were even allowed to attend. Cheerful music played from a group of musicians to your right, in a stark contrast to your sour mood which you had to make an effort to hide from your subjects. You sat in your own throne, positioned to the left, slightly behind your father’s regal throne, which was also about twice the size of yours and much more ornate. After sitting in silence for an agonizing length of time, the royal advisor whispered to your father. The king then stood and all of the excited chatter of the audience died down and directed their undivided attention towards him. “As you all know, our kingdom is at war,” his voice boomed throughout the enormous room, his statement causing a small rise of chatter from the people. “Because times such as these can potentially be dangerous, I have decided to give my daughter, your future queen, a protector that I believe is skilled enough to defeat any who may dare approach her with ill will, and who is loyal enough to lay down his life for his princess. Today,” he paused, looking back to where you sat, motioning with his hand for you to take a place standing beside him, “he will be knighted and assigned as Princess (y/n)’s very own appointed knight.”

Although you couldn’t feel more down as the time continued to approach, you kept your chin held high and maintained your regal image you had been trained for so long to uphold. A short man with a horn then blew to once again silence the growing murmurs of the crowd, all wondering who this knight could be. The same man lowered his trumpet and announced, “Let the procession begin.”

With that, the music resumed, but this time it had a slower, more official tone to it to draw attention to the gravity of the situation. Though people were excited, this was only happening because there was a very real possibility of danger within the walls of the kingdom. One by one, pairs of knights walked in step with one another down the aisle towards you and your father. When they reached the end, they lowered themselves onto one knee and bowed to their ruler before taking their place to the sides of the aisle. Finally, after what must have been at least thirty pairs of knights, a single boy walks down the aisle, a stone cold, stoic expression donned upon his face. To the surprise of everyone who finally caught a glimpse of the to-be-knighted boy, he looked to be almost the same age as you, and he was still dressed in common training garb with dark blond hair and intense eyes.

You had heard things about this boy when you secretly listened into the maids gossip while they worked, believing no one else was around. They had said that he was only a year older than you, and he was still in training to become a knight, but he had shown great potential, so he had been chosen specifically by your father for this position, and they continued to chat about a plethora of other good things about his skill. However, you had also heard that he was rumored to be bold and could even be considered brash by some, and that he really couldn’t take things seriously at times and he really didn’t give a damn about his miraculous swordsmanship in comparison to the other trainees around him.

However, you never could have guessed he would possess these characteristics from the dignified composure he showed. Just as the other knights before him had done, he dropped onto one knee before the king, keeping his head bowed and a hand placed over his heart. You continued to watch the mysterious boy as your father retrieved the Knighting sword, but much to your bewilderment, he had the nerve to lift his gaze from where it focused on the ground to look into your eyes. It was already considered quite rude for a noble of a lower class to make eye contact with you, but for a trainee who had not even been knighted yet, a commoner, to meet your eyes was unheard of. He could be imprisoned just for that if you so wished. You felt your cheeks heat up and hoped it was not visible to him or the countless people watching, who strangely did not seem to notice what scandal had just occurred before their eyes. He simply smirked at your baffled reaction before returning his gaze to the floor as the King faced him with a sword in hand.

Your father then relayed a multitude of oaths that the boy swore by that you didn’t bother to listen to. Instead, you focused on the face of the boy kneeling before you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t offended. It wasn’t that you truly believed that others should be unable to meet your eyes, it was the fact that it was the first time someone had actually done it. It felt so foreign, yet somehow relieving. The more you thought about it actually, the more it intrigued you.

“Then having sworn these solemn oaths, know now that I, the King, by right of arms, do dub you with my sword, and by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy... Once for Honor... Twice for Duty... Thrice for Chivalry... Arise, Sir Taehyung!” your father announced just as an explosion of applause and shouts of excitement arose from the crowd as the new knight stood before them. However, the ceremony was not yet over until he was assigned specifically to you. “Sir Taehyung,” your father took your hand leading you down a step and placing it into your newly appointed knight’s hold, “I hereby declare that you will defend the princess with your life.”

Taehyung lifted your hand in his and placed a chaste and gentle kiss to your knuckles, but once again, he lifted his eyes to meet your own, leaving you breathless as his lips met your hand at the same time as his pupils focused on your own. It only lasted a split second, however, and you were sure no one else had seen once again.

After a beat of intense silence, a unified shout of joy ripped through the crowd in celebration of the exciting news of a new and special type of night. You stayed for a moment, putting on your best smile and gracefully waving to your subjects. Finally, it was time for you to leave. “Sir Taehyung, would you please escort me to my quarters?” you asked, turning towards the excited new knight.

“It would be my pleasure,” he agreed, bowing his head and waiting for you to take the lead. You didn’t even attempt to hide the roll of your eyes, which your father caught, causing him to clear his throat and give you a warning look. You gave a dramatic sigh, losing your regal posture as you slouched your shoulders and walked away with a pout.

The two of you suffered an unbearably silent walk to the other side of the castle where your room was located. When you finally reached your destination, Taehyung stepped in front to open the door for you, and while it seemed as if he may have been trying to act as properly as he could, you could see right through it and your eyes rolled back once more as you brushed past him. He began to laugh, but covered his mouth with his fist, lazily attempting to pass it off as a cough. “Well, Princess, looks like you’re stuck with me.”

“Yes, unfortunately I am,” you muttered under your breath, although you secretly wished that your knight would hear. You faced away from him as he walked through the doorway a few feet behind you, just before you heard the heavy wooden door slam as it did when someone who was unfamiliar with it let it fall behind them. You turned and found him standing in front of it, scanning and observing your room which you were sure was much bigger and more luxurious than any place he had been able to sleep in before. “What are you doing?” you questioned, your eyes flicking between him and the floor between the two of you. “You shouldn’t be in here. These are my private quarters.”

“Well my job is to keep an eye on you at all times, isn’t it?” You scoffed and a very obvious blush grew on your face. “You sure like to let your mind wander, don’t you, Princess?” He said with a smirk evident on his face as he walked the perimeter of your room until he stood before your sizable window, looking out on the expansive castle gardens and the towns just beyond the wall that separated them from the castle’s property. His hands connected behind his back as he observed the sights. “This is a beautiful view,” he mused, suddenly changing the subject.

You were caught off guard by the sudden softness of his voice. You lessened the distance between the two of you so you could see what he was talking about. The garden was in full bloom with a conglomeration of vibrantly colored flowers, and the sun was shining unusually bright. From the feeling it gave off, you never would have guessed there was a war going on just outside the border. “I suppose it is,” you contemplated. “I’ve never really paid much attention to it.”

He gasped. “If I could see something as beautiful as this everyday, I’d never take my eyes off of it.” His sudden sweet words left you speechless for reasons unknown and you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him. It was just more than anything you would have expected from someone like him. “There wasn’t some type of hidden meaning behind that if that’s what your thinking,” he stated, his smirk returned within seconds after he caught you staring. “I know I’m irresistible, but I’m just your knight. Don’t get the wrong idea, Princess.” He choked back a laugh, and your face flushed with embarrassment which soon turned to anger.

“That is not what I was thinking! Now get out!” you shouted, gripping him by the shoulders and practically dragging him out the door. Just after you slammed the door in his face, which still had no sign of remorse for what he had said, you added through the closed door, “And it’s ‘Your Highness’ to you!” You stomped over to your bed, flopping down face first into a pillow and groaned. You had to get rid of him.

“Father?” You knocked on the large wooden door at the entrance to your father’s quarters. You heard a hum from the other side signalling you to enter. You quietly slid through the door, finally free of your knight who had been following you like a moth to a flame when you told him to wait behind because you were going to speak with the king.

Your father was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, reading a book, turning his head to look at you when you entered. “What is it, (y/n)?”

You took tentative steps toward him, not sure how to begin your appeal. “It’s about Sir Taehyung,” you paused fiddling with your fingers. “I just don’t think he’s the right person for the job. Also, the guards stationed around the palace serve as good protection, so I don’t think having a personal knight is necessary.”

The king sighed, closing the pages of his book and placing it onto the table beside him. “He is a perfectly capable knight, and it calms my heart knowing that you are safer with him around. I’m sorry that you’re unhappy with the arrangement, but it is necessary.”

“But is it?” you talk back.

He gives you a stern glare for your offhand speech with him. “It is. I won’t discuss this any longer.” He picked up his book and began to read once again in attempts to make you give up your attempts to persuade him.

You regretfully made your way outside his room back into the castle corridors, where you found a certain blond-headed boy waiting for you. You paused in your tracks when his gaze met yours. “What are you doing out here? I told you to wait behind,” you reprimanded, crossing your arms as if talking to a child. It was beginning to feel that way, after all.

“I was waiting to escort you to your next destination, Princess—” he cut himself off by clearing his throat, although it was painfully obvious to be fake, “excuse me—Your Highness.” He corrected himself with an exaggerated bow, making your blood boil at his mockery. You chose not to satisfy him by giving him a reaction, so you simply stomped ahead of him and walked ahead. He caught up to just a few steps behind you as he began interrogating you, “So what was that little secret meeting about?”

“It’s private business. You have no need to know.” You turned your chin up at him.

You could practically hear the mischief in his voice when he spoke his next few words, feigning innocence, “You were trying to get rid of me, weren’t you?”

You were unable to hide your eyes widening from shock at his amazing deduction skills. “How did you—?”

He let out a chuckle at your bewilderment. “Those doors may be heavy, but they’re not sound proof.”

Your mouth gaped in shock as you looked bewildered around the room as if asking the nonexistent other people in the hallway, Can you believe this guy? “So you were eavesdropping? On the king? Well! I don’t think he’d be very happy to hear about this, but telling him would simply be the right thing to do, so it must be done!” you reasoned, spinning on your heel, practically sprinting back in hopes you could finally be rid of this leech of a knight.

He was calm, however, not making a move from where he stood, only calling out to you, “Are you sure about that? Don’t want to make dear old dad angry, now do we?” There was a certain bitterness in his voice that drew your attention from your previous excitement, practically giving you whiplash at his sudden 180 degree change of tone. You stopped where you were, only a few steps away from your father’s bedroom door, listening for what else the knight would say. “He gets a little too angry sometimes, doesn’t he?” All jesting nature had disappeared from his once carefree face and your eyebrows raised at his accusation.

“How…” You looked between him and the door. Your lips were parted and ready to speak, but no words came forth. You weren’t sure how he had been able to convince you, but you found yourself heeding his advice and turning away from your father’s quarters, taking only one last glance back to the door. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you slowly walked back to meet him where he silently waited for you down the hall, eyeing him warily as you passed him by. You had to be careful with this one; not only was he a master with his sword, but it also seemed he was brilliant with his brain.

“I’m going for a ride,” you said to Taehyung over your shoulder from where you sat side-saddled on your horse, reigns already in hand. The sun shone brightly and you wanted nothing more than to breathe in some fresh air, so you decided you would go horseback riding, although since you would have to leave the confines of the guarded walls to do so, you couldn’t even dream of getting away with going without your knight. “Please stay a good distance back if you insist on following me.” And with that you flicked your wrists, causing the horse to take off before Taehyung had even finished mounting.

Once some distance had been made between you and the man following behind, you rubbed your horse’s neck to calm him and slow him to a trot. You took the few moments of silence and solitude to appreciate the landscape around you of the forest, with its green leaves and tangled vines, you had not been allowed to venture into for years now. You suppose that was one perk to having an appointed knight. Despite how pestering it was, it gave you the opportunity to do things you couldn’t before as long as he was with you. When you could finally hear the hooves of Taehyung’s horse, you had your horse speed up a bit once again.

You decided it was best to ignore him, so you continued to enjoy the scenery, from the rushing waters of the creek flowing by to your right to the towering trees above that sheltered you from the harsh summer sun. Above the tranquil sound of water, you heard the sound of a branch of a tree snapping, but didn’t think anything of it until a large branch came falling down just a few feet in front of you and your horse.

Before you had any time to react on your own, your horse did the job for you, abruptly pushing onto its back hooves and you were bucked off, falling to the side as the horse attempted to turn and run the other way, fortunately from the way you were thrown off, you landed feet first and did not have to worry about serious injury to your back or somewhere worse. Unfortunately, after you had a few seconds to process what had just happened and the numbing shock finally wore off, you felt tremendous pain in your left ankle.

Taehyung quickly dismounted from his horse and ran over to help you, calling out in concern, “Princess!” He reached you and grabbed hold of your arm to help you up, but you pushed his hands away and tried to stand on your own, but the feeling in your ankle only became worse and you immediately sat back onto the ground. He crouched down and looked you over. “Are you okay? Is something hurt?”

You gritted your teeth, pointing to where you were injured, “It’s my ankle.” Taehyung looked between you and your foot a few times before placing a hand under your back and beneath your knees to carry you to the royal infirmary.

After the doctor had seen you, informed you it was a sprain, and wrapped your ankle up, you sat dejectedly on the examination table, kicking your uninjured foot back and forth. Taehyung finally spoke, his voice quieter than usual, “We should probably get you back to your room.”

Before he could even make a move, you began to push yourself off the table, willing to land on your wounded ankle if it meant getting out of what you were afraid would happen next, but you weren’t fast enough. “Woah!” Taehyung quickly grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back away from the edge of the table before he began to support your weight.

“It’s alright. I’ll walk by myself,” you insisted, squirming to escape his grasp.

“Sorry, Princess, no can do. The doctor said you can’t put any weight on that ankle for the next several days.” His voice still possessed its signature lightness, but his face contrasted it, lips forming a thin line and brows drawn together in worry. You continued to give him trouble until he finally grabbed both of your wrists and he looked up to you, eyes wide as they met yours accompanied by turned down brows and lips. “Stop,” he chided sternly, the sudden depth in his voice causing a shiver to run down your spine and put a stop to all movement.

When he finally had you under control, he turned his back to you and bent down so he could carry you on his back. His hands slipped under your thighs to support you and suddenly everything felt much more scandalous than it was. You wrapped your arms around his neck and reluctantly rested your head on his shoulder. “I guess I should say thank you,” you sighed. “I made a really dumb decision.”

“Yeah, well, this is what happens when you try to make my job difficult.” You could hear that grin on his face.

Your remorse for the burden of him having to carry you suddenly vanished. “I was just trying to say thank you! Why couldn’t you just say ‘you’re welcome?’” you shouted in irritation, your voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

He turned his head back to you, showing you a cheeky grin. “I guess I like to make things difficult for you, too.” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the little quirk up of your lips. He was still looking over his shoulder—the one on which you rested your head—and you suddenly realized how uncomfortably close your faces were to each other. You hastily straightened yourself up, jolting so much that Taehyung almost dropped you. Your face burned like never before now and you decided that it would be best to keep your head up for the rest of the walk, or else you may be subjected to the same view of Taehyung’s deep and captivating eyes.

You were scratching an ink pen across some parchment while seated at your desk, sipping on a cup of warm tea and thoroughly relishing in the silence of just you and the soft rain against the window. It was the late afternoon, just dark enough to rely on candlelight to work at your desk with the wonderful burning scent permeating the air of the large room. It felt as if recently you had been getting less and less time to have for yourself, which usually wouldn’t bother you so much since you were always cooped up in your room when you were younger, but you had no time to destress, so you used your time to relieve all the tension you’ve been feeling recently thanks to a certain someone. You heard a knock on the door, which you purposely ignored in hopes that the visitor would get the message and go away. Without bothering to wait for a response, however, said person waltzed through the door without a care in the world, revealing himself to be none other than Sir Taehyung. “Good afternoon, Princess. Sorry I wasn’t around all morning, I had some mandatory training.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was extremely pleasant,” you mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear, gathering your pile of papers into a messy stack and shoving them hurriedly into your desk drawer as he neared you, peering over your shoulder.

He brushed off your blow to his ego with ease, instead changing the subject, “What have you got there?” His eyes followed the nervous movement of your hands.

“It’s nothing,” you explained curtly, not bothering to try hiding your annoyance. “Please just mind your own business.” You waved him off, locking your drawer and creating distance between the two of you as you felt him hovering, although still limping on your injured ankle.

He became strangely serious in a mere few seconds, his brows furrowing and the edges of his lips turning downwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Princess.”

“Yeah, well you sure have a knack for that,” you retorted sarcastically taking a seat on the edge of your bed. You glanced to Taehyung and he now seemed pretty peeved, and you began to wonder if you were taking things too far.

“Look, I’m just trying to be friendly,” he justified.

You should take that as a valid reason to lay off of him, but for some reason you were so angry. Maybe you weren’t necessarily angry at him, but you were angry with your situation, and he was the easiest to blame, so that’s exactly what you did. “Well, stop. I don’t want to be friends. I don’t want you around at all.”

As you felt the air in the room suddenly become strained, this time, Taehyung remained silent, which was a rare occurrence since he always had to have the last word. You easily could have stopped there, but there was no telling when you would be able to shut yourself up now. “But no. You’re always around, trying to make my life miserable, I’m sure. I can’t stand it!”

He scoffed, finally losing the last bit of his cool composure, becoming angry. You should have known his facade would come crashing down sooner or later since this was the only manner in which you had spoken to him since he was knighted a little over two weeks beforehand, and he was probably getting a little tired of it by now. “How do you think I feel? The only reason I’m even here is because I’m just doing my job! I miss my friends back in the barracks. I’d much rather spend my days with them than with a stuck up princess like you!”

“Stuck up?” you questioned, offended, whether you had a right to be or not, you dismissed.

He took a step forward, letting his sincerity be shown. “Yes. You’re a stuck up brat. You get anything you could possibly want, and yet the only words I’ve ever heard from you are complaints! Trust me, no one would willingly spend any time around you!” You couldn’t hide the fact that what he just said had actually hurt you. It all went back to the fact that the townspeople frequently badmouthed you, and your ladies-in-waiting never spoke back. Was he right? “Do you know how difficult you are to put up with?” His voice becoming louder by the second, only making your desire to fight back even stronger.

“Well, same goes to you! You’re a handful yourself, with your nosiness and all that!” you shouted back at him, pointing a finger at his face to stress your annoyance. “I’m glad there’s at least one thing we can agree on!”

“Yeah? What’s that?” he sarcastically expressed wonder, although he truly didn’t what the two of you could possibly share.

“We both hate this arrangement!” you yelled.

“Yeah alright, whine all you want, but you have no idea what actual hardships are! You’ve been served on a silver platter your entire life! You’ve never had to do a goddamn thing for yourself! I’m surprised you even know how to breathe without someone helping you do that, too!” You defensively crossed your arms over your chest. You really did have everything handed to you, though not necessarily by choice. “I’ve had to work so hard to get where I am today!”

“Oh, please. Everyone knows you’re a prodigy.”

“You know nothing!” You wanted to throw his insults back at him, but with the way his breathing became uneven, you decided that retorting might be a mistake. “My father was one of the most skilled and most noble knights anyone had ever known. I admired him and I wanted to be just like him. So badly. All I ever wanted was to make him proud, so I worked my ass off day and night to even be considered as a trainee. Then, you know what? Your fool of a father sent him off to war and got him killed!” he bellowed in rage, causing you stop short at his sudden violent shout.

He was seething and his hands were tightly clenched at his sides as he no longer looked you in the eye, his eyes instead focusing on the far corner of the room. “And now he’ll never see his son be just like him.” His face softened and his hands let loose as the tension in his muscles began to dissolve.

You were frozen in place, already beginning to feel terribly guilty for blaming him for your troubles when it wasn’t even his fault, and then you had to discover this tragic past of his. You knew you shouldn’t speak and just let Taehyung have some space to think, but you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. “I… I’m sure he’s very proud of you… wherever he is.” Your voice was small and timid, but you hoped maybe he would find some sort of comfort in your words.

Instead, his expression hardened once again, forcing a cold stare to meet your gaze. “Yeah, well, he’s not here, so I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?” His intimidating eyes didn’t leave yours for a few moments until he finally turned on his heel without a word and left, slamming the door behind him.

Four tense days had passed since Taehyung lost his composure in front of you like that, and you hadn’t seen much of him since. You couldn’t blame him, after all, since all you had been trying to do since he was assigned to you was just that: drive him away. Now he hadn’t spoken a word to you recently, instead opting for sitting outside your bedroom door and keeping a good distance away from you at all times when he had to accompany you somewhere, which was only around the palace so far since you couldn’t even think about asking him to take you anywhere else with the stiff and strained atmosphere that followed wherever the both of you went. Now that he wasn’t around anymore and you had finally achieved your initial goal, you realized how big of a mistake that was. You were never looking for it to become this bad, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss his teasing and his jokes and his sly remarks. As much as they made your blood boil then, you never took the time to realize that it was a breath of fresh air, as no one else would even dare speak to you the way he did. And it was… freeing. Funny how the one person you were sure would completely confiscate your freedom brought you the closest you’d ever come to it.

These thoughts had been occupying your mind for days now, but at this point, they were keeping you awake. You had been pacing throughout your room, your limp finally manageable enough to get around easily on your own, lower lip caught between your teeth, for what felt like an hour contemplating whether you should sneak out to get some air like you were so tempted to do. Finally, you came to the conclusion you weren’t getting any sleep anyway, so you threw on your cloak and a pair of shoes. You tiptoed over to you door and carefully pulled it open, wincing at the way it creaked as you tried to open it slowly and silently in hopes of not waking you night guard who usually fell asleep on the job. When you peaked out of the crack of the door, you saw no one. Your eyes scanned downward as they sensed a presence from below and you found your guard sitting against the wall. Except it wasn’t your night guard. It was Taehyung.

His head still rested against the wall, but his eyes slid over to you now standing just outside your room, drooping as he fought against what seemed like extreme drowsiness to keep them open. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you sleeping?” you whispered. Taehyung was your knight during the day, but at night, he still went back to sleep in the barracks. He was human. He couldn’t be around at all times. So why was he here now?

“Your night guard got thrown out after he was caught sleeping on the job, so I’m taking his position until he is replaced,” he mumbled. You almost laughed at how predictable the termination of your night guard’s job was. Dismissing that, you knelt down next to him and he gave a curious look.

“You must be exhausted,” you sympathized, unable to hide the worry in your voice.

He breathed out a heavy sigh, standing up, surprising you with his sudden energy. “No, not really. I’m okay.” He gave a tight smile. “Now what are you doing up so late? And where were you going dressed like that?” he interrogated, giving a pointed look at your cloak and shoes, making it obvious you were planning to leave the building.

“Nowhere!” you fibbed, a tight smile stretching across your face. Taehyung saw right through it though, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows knowingly. “Alright, fine. I was going to sneak out tonight. I couldn’t sleep and I needed some air.” You chose to leave out the man in front of you was the very reason for your sleeplessness and anxieties, especially because you weren’t even sure why. An idea popped into your head while examining his face, which he probably caught you doing, but you changed the subject quickly. “I’d still like to go. That is, if you’re willing to accompany me.”

He looked bewildered at your ridiculous idea. “Now? At this time of night? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he worried, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“Please? I just want to go for a walk in the garden. We won’t even be leaving the castle walls!” you begged, but he still looked unconvinced, probably affected by how much he’d rather be sleeping at the moment. “Come on. It’ll be fine,” you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you, and to your surprise, he went along silently.

After cautiously sneaking past more guards who would completely disapprove of your little midnight escapade and convincing the more lenient ones to let you pass, you finally reached the entrance to the royal garden, marked by an impressive flowering archway.

The night air possessed a bit of a chill, causing Taehyung to dig his hands into the pockets of his pants while you wrapped your cloak around you tighter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would be cold. We can go back inside if you want,” you suggested catching the slight chatter of his teeth.

“No, it’s alright,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I’ve never been here before anyway, so I’d like to see it.”

Your surprise was easily showcased in your expression, causing Taehyung to chuckle at the comic widening of your eyes. It never occurred to you that most people didn’t have the pleasure of wandering these gardens like you often did, and quite frankly, took advantage of. You forced yourself to return to a neutral state, calmly glancing at your surroundings, characterized with patches of multicolored flowers lining the stoney walkways. “Well, I’m glad that I’m the one who has the honor to show you around.” You flashed him a quick smile before picking up your pace and tilting your head to have him follow along.

Although you were slowed down by your still-healing ankle, Taehyung was patient and let you lead the way, completely endeared by your childlike enthusiasm. You led him along the widest cobblestone path to a wooden bridge stretching from one side of a creek running through the garden to the other. When the both of you reached the middle of the bridge, you sighed leaning on your elbows on the railing, looking over into the water below. “Welcome to my favorite part of this garden.”

Taehyung would be lying if he said it wasn’t a little… underwhelming, but he assumed there must be a reason it gave you that sparkling, dreamlike look in your eyes. He followed your lead and leaned over the railing as well, looking down and being met with both of your reflections in the rippling water, easy to be seen thanks to the bright moonlight. After he was done studying the mirror image of the both of you side-by-side, he turned his attention to the several flowers resting atop the surface of the water. “Water lilies,” you spoke softly as he looked up to you meeting your gaze as you had already been looking for his reaction. “I know this really isn’t much, but I really love those flowers, so this bridge just became my favorite place.”

Taehyung continued to observe the scenery. “No, I think I get it,” he contemplated. “There’s something special about them, and that’s why you love them.” He let his gaze wander back to you, once again staring down at the white and pink petals in the water, and finished his thought without thinking, “They’re different… like you.”

Your face contorted into a hesitant laugh as you weren’t sure whether that was meant to be one of his jokes he often throws at you or not. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taehyung tried to hide the panic he felt after letting his words slip, and he covered it up with a lighthearted chuckle. “Come on. We both know you’re not normal, Princess.”

If it had been a few days ago, you would have gotten angry with him because of a remark like that, but today, you were only able to laugh along with him, feeling relieved that you didn’t have to be upset with him all the time. However, one thing he said bothered you. “(Y/n),” you corrected softly.

Taehyung only tilted his head and slightly squinted his eyes, a question obviously on the tip of his tongue. “Call me (y/n) from now on.” His eyes shook with surprise. “The title princess really is just too much for me. I’m tired of being the princess. I want to be just (y/n) for once.”

He gave you what you thought was the first genuine smile you’d ever seen from him as he quietly agreed, “Okay.” You felt weight float off your shoulders knowing that right there, right then, you didn’t have any expectations to meet. It was just you, and him, and the moonlight’s beams on your favorite flowers below.

You shifted uncomfortably, hating to bring up the subject, but you knew you had to say it at some point. “I’m sorry for all the horrible things I’ve said to you by the way.” Taehyung shifted, resting his chin in his palm and facing you a bit more, a smile still dancing on his face despite you becoming more solemn. “I was never actually angry with you. I just thought I was.” There was so much more you wished to say, but the words wouldn’t form, so you let silence take the lead.

Taehyung didn’t respond verbally, but he gave a nod and an understanding smile that gave you enough assurance that you were forgiven.

You wanted to ask about one more thing that had been weighing heavily on you mind ever since you had argued with Taehyung. “By the way… did you mean what you said the other day?” he gives you a questioning look, signaling you to clarify. “That no one would actually willingly spend time with me? I guess that makes sense since the only person around here that I consider a friend… isn’t really a friend… and I don’t really talk to anyone.” You couldn’t prevent the tears that began to pool in your eyes as you finally acknowledge out loud the loneliness you’d just simply become accustomed to. “Well, except for you.” You let out a weak chuckle, the squint of your eyes pushing a stray tear to roll down your cheek.

Feeling guilty at his words whether he meant them that night or not, Taehyung reached out to you,  contemplating whether to wipe your tears, or grab your hand, or maybe that was too much. He retracted his hand. “No. I didn’t mean that. I was just angry. I’m sorry,” he spoke firmly but genuinely, hoping that you would believe him.

The two of you let silence fill the space between you, which, you both noted, had somehow decreased exponentially from when you first arrived on the bridge. Hearing Taehyung let out another shiver, the cold of night still present, you suggested with a shy smile, still sniffling, “Let’s go back inside.”

You two successfully snuck yourselves back to the hallway just outside your bedroom door and you opened the door, prepared to be welcomed by the inviting comfort of your bed, but you stopped as Taehyung slumped against the wall once again, ready to resume his night guard duties. You wanted to slap yourself for the words that were about to escape you, but you couldn’t bare to leave him out there while you slept the rest of the night away. “Why don’t you come inside and get some sleep?” He gave you look to let you know you were just as insane as you sounded.

“Do you know what could happen to me if I got caught staying in the princess’ bedroom over night?”

You rolled your eyes, but also felt a blush creep onto your cheeks at the implications. “You can just sleep on the window seat—which is super comfortable by the way— and no one would ever know. And even if someone did find out, I could easily explain the situation. There’s no way you can be expected to stay out there all night with no sleep.”

While Taehyung’s rational side was giving him every signal for no, the soft call of sleep was louder than any alarm going off in his head, so he finally accepted your offer. You led him over to lay on the window seat, then you brought him a few extra pillows and a blanket. “Wait,” he suddenly voiced, causing you to stop in your tracks on the way to your own bed in search of sleep. “What if someone comes after you and I’m not awake to notice?” he worried, eyes widened.

You had to laugh at his innocence. “First of all, that won’t happen, but if it does, I’m sure you’ll wake up to protect me.” you smiled down at him, seemingly calming his nerves. You finally reached your soft mattress, tucking yourself into the silky sheets and resting your head on the fluffy pillows. “Goodnight,” you called across the room as you blew out the candle on your desk.

“Goodnight,” you heard him softly echo, sounding as if he’s already on the brink of sleep. You watched his outline lit up by the moonlight finally still and turned yourself over once you assumed Taehyung had gotten some rest for himself, eyes fluttering shut now that you finally had some peace of mind.

You had just finished up with a dress-fitting that you were suddenly called to early in the morning, which confused you since there was usually a reason for these things, but as far as you knew there was nothing special to have a new dress made for. Your ladies walked you back to your bedroom since you decided it would probably be a little inappropriate if Taehyung was around while you were being fitted. You reached your room and dismissed the two women following just behind you with a small nod and a polite smile.

You found Taehyung already waiting for you, sitting on the bench at the foot of your mattress, examining the cover of a book. “A Lover’s Temptation,” he drawled out, reading its title before giving you an openly judgmental stare. You gasped, rushing over to where he sat as he choked back a laugh at your blushing cheeks, wrestling the book from his hands as he fought to lift it out of your reach. You knew the two of you had become more comfortable around each other since that night in the garden, but this was just a bit too much. You finally pried it from his grip and playfully smacked him with it on the shoulder with a “Hey!” feigning annoyance, but giving him a genuine smile nonetheless. He mirrored with a gleaming grin of his own, leaning back onto his hands looking up at you.

You tucked the book back into its place in your mahogany shelves, turning around defensively crossing your arms over your chest with a pout. “Listen, I know it’s cheesy,” you defended, “but I was running out of things to read.”

“Running out?” he questioned with doubt, eyes traveling up and down your towering shelf filled to its full capacity with tightly-squeezed books, almost to the point that it looked as if it would fall apart if one more page were to be added. “You sure like reading, don’t you?”

“I do! And yes, I’ve already read all of those,” you stated matter-of-factly. “It’s easy when you spend as much time trapped in this castle as I do.”

The edges of Taehyung’s lips turned down in sympathy as he could hear the bitterness behind the laugh you covered it up with. “What about the palace library? Don’t they have anything to read?” he suggested.

“Oh, there’s plenty of books in there, alright,” you mused, “but they’re no good. Most of them are just historical records of the royal family.” You swiftly turned back to the shelf, searching through the multitude of titles. “Although, there was one book that I found in the library. It’s actually my favorite! It’s this tragic love story about—” you began veering off on a tangent until Taehyung cut it short.

The term “tragic love story” setting off an alarm in his head, causing him to cut you off, he groaned, “Please tell me it’s not Romeo and Juliet.”

“No way,” you laughed in disbelief, turning around with the book you were searching for in hand, cradled tightly to your chest. “That book is so unrealistic. It’s impossible to fall in love in one night. Love is patient. It takes time.” You let a shy smile slowly grow on your face, a gleam in your eye as you pondered about the realness and rawness of true love, the type you always dreamed about, reflected in your many hours invested in reading romance novels, cheesy or not. You hadn’t noticed it, Taehyung hadn’t even realized himself, but he couldn’t take his eyes off your beautiful lips and the way they formed your smile, and without knowing, it became one of his favorite sights.

You snapped out of your thoughts, blinking slowly and returning your attention to your conversation with Taehyung. “Anyways, it’s a story written hundreds of years ago by a court poet within this very castle. He fell in love with his princess, and she loved him back, but they couldn’t be together because she had to marry a prince. He wrote about his heartbreak and the pains of falling in love, and I can’t help but hurt every time I read it,” you explained sadly, knowing that one day you yourself would marry a prince, and now more than ever for some reason, you feared the prospect of falling in love with someone else. “Despite that, though, it’s a fantastic book. You really should read it.” You held the book out to him, a hopeful smile suddenly on display.

He waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to be rude, but completely uninterested. He’d much rather hear you talk about it once more. “Actually, I don’t read much.”

“Well, then, this is the perfect way to start! It’s simple and easy to understand, and it’s not long!” you insisted. Taehyung shook his head once more, trying to resist even though your excitement made it extremely difficult. “Please?” you asked one last time.

He sighed, finally giving in and taking the book you held out for him, “Fine.” Since when did he become so easily swayed by you? Of course, he wasn’t actually going to read it. He just said he would to see that smile on your face one more time.

Your father called you for a meeting in the throne room early in the morning only a few days after Taehyung had come to realize just how much that smile meant to him. He had tried his best calming your nerves on the way there as you knew that meetings so early in the morning never brought the best of news. Now you stood before your father, seated in his throne before you as per usual, however, what was out of the ordinary, were the several unfamiliar men standing to the side of him, seemingly waiting as well for your arrival. Taehyung, who had been close by your side just on the other side of the door, moved away from you and took his place standing by the door, waiting until you were ready to leave the room once again. You walked further into the room, but cast a glance back to him over your shoulder, and he smiled encouragingly, sensing your hesitance.

You finally stopped once you were standing before the steps up to the throne, nervously gazing up to your father, but still taking quick glances at the three men standing around him. He cleared his throat before speaking, “(Y/n), you’re 21 years of age now, and as you know, you have some responsibilities to fill now that you have come of age.” Suddenly your mouth ran dry in realization. This was why you were woken up so early without notice and forced into an unusually tight and uncomfortable dress. This was why you suddenly had so much more official work and training to complete. This was why you were mysteriously fitted for a new dress. For a ball. For a suitor’s ball. These men were suitors.

“One of those duties is marriage. I have chosen these three princes as candidates for you to marry. I expect you to treat them with hospitality during their stay here.” You always thought that when this moment came, you would only feel numb because you had imagined this scenario so many times in your head, but in actuality, it hurt and you wanted to scream and cry because for some reason you let yourself hope for one second that love might come to you instead of being forced into it. You had to hold your breath to keep from letting out a sob. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of these suitors, or else it could ruin everything. Instead, you took shallow breaths and kept your bottom lip between your teeth to hide its quivering. You only nodded. That was all you could bring yourself to do.

“These young men are princes from neighboring kingdoms. First is Prince Seokjin from the Kim Kingdom.” The tallest of the three, with wide shoulders and a handsome face, stepped forward, a polite and well-trained neutral expression on his features. He seemed several years older than you. As tradition goes, you held out your hand for him to press a kiss to your knuckles, despite how difficult it was to release the tight grip you had on your skirt that surely crumpled the expensive material.

“Next is Prince Yoongi of the Min Kingdom.” The man in the middle, the shortest of the three, stepped forward and did the same, pressing his lips to your knuckles, but his face was mysterious and unreadable.

“Lastly, Prince Hoseok from the Jung Kingdom.” The last man swiftly stepped forward and took your hand, holding a bit longer than the two princes before had done, stopping to look into your eyes, giving a charming smile. However there was a hint of worry or sympathy or something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes, and you assumed he could see right through your facade, making you wonder if it was as obvious to the other princes as well. He pressed a kiss to the top of your hand as well and stepped back, keeping his careful eyes trained on you.

“We will have a ball tomorrow night in order for you to meet them properly. After that, it is up to you to get to know them and make a decision,” your father concluded.

You breathed deeply through your nose hoping desperately that your voice would come across as steady. “I understand, Father. I will do so.” You forced a tight smile and nodded to each of the suitors before hastily turning on your heel, letting restrained tears fall just as your face had escaped their line of sight.

You saw Taehyung still waiting in his place, hands clasped behind his back and his usual stone cold expression donned on his face when working in front of your father. Whether it was to maintain an air of professionalism or to mask his secret hatred for your father, you weren’t sure, but you do know that today was the first time you saw the stone crack, his lips parting and his eyes following you intently as he observed the glistening on your cheeks.

You pushed the doors open yourself and walked up the stairs and through the lengthy hallways with silent tears, Taehyung following closely behind, not sure how to make it better. He knew it wasn’t part of his job to make it better, but he didn’t care because you weren’t just a job anymore. He cared about you, but that didn’t mean anything because he was just your knight and as much as it hurt him to accept, there was no way he could help you. All he could do was watch as his favorite smile crumbled before him, eroded away and replaced by bitter tears.

You reached your room and melted down, sitting on the soft mattress of your bed that usually brought comfort, but instead today, it felt as if you were falling straight through to the ground. Now that you were alone in your bedroom, just you and your loyal knight who still stood right beside you, yet not making a move, you could finally stop hiding. Letting go, a sob ripped through your chest so violently that you doubled over, hands gripping at the hair in the back of your head.

You felt a hesitant touch on your back and your hands came down and rested on your knees as you sat upright again. Before you knew it, the comfort of the warm palm was gone again. “Please don’t cry,” Taehyung whispered. He knew that’s not what you needed to hear, but that was all he said. That was all he could say for he felt he was already overstepping the boundary between princess and knight. Suddenly, his breath hitched in his throat as he felt your head nuzzle into his chest as you continued to cry, desperately gripping onto the material of his shirt. He knew he shouldn’t do what he so badly wished to do, but he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, so he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even closer, trying his best just to do his job which was to protect you from the evil in this world, even if this evil was inescapable.

It was all far too familiar. The way you were constricted in a tight dress in a way that showed off your body in order to somehow impress while also staying modest. The way you looked at yourself in the mirror and saw the ghost of your hope hovering like a rain cloud over your head, occupied by miserable and tired eyes. It had been this way before, when you were preparing for Taehyung’s knighting ceremony, but somehow this was worse. Before, you were scared of losing freedom that you never really had. Now, you knew that after finally feeling liberation in the form of deep brown eyes and a rectangular smile, everything would really be snatched from right before your eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why your mind lingered on your knight when anxiety about your future marriage ensued. Taehyung was your friend. Surely, he would still be there after it was all over, right?

Speaking of the knight, you would not be seeing him until you arrived at the ball, and even when you were there, he would be serving as a regular guard since your father thought it be a bad idea to have someone lingering around while you were supposed to be spending time with the suitors. The thought made your frown deepen as you realized you would be stuck for hours making small talk with people you had no desire to know. However, Taehyung had promised you he would be there for you to go to when you were feeling anxious, which you were sure would happen in several instances tonight.

Jiwoo helped you down from the step stool, smoothing out the wide skirt of your gown one last time before leading you to the ballroom along with your other ladies-in-waiting. The ball had already started, but of course, you were going to arrive a bit late in order to make a grand entrance. This just so happened to be the exact opposite of what you wanted, knowing the moment you step foot inside the dance hall, all eyes would be on you, criticizing every move you made.

As the grand doors swung open and your presence was announced by the man with the staff by the door, it played out just as you expected. All heads turned towards you, scrutinizing gazes picking apart every part of your wardrobe, your actions, your composure. You gave a regal wave and carefully descended the stairs, met at the bottom by a gloved hand stretched out to take yours in its grasp. Your eyes followed the fingertips up to the face of the body they belonged to, finding the charming face of Prince Seokjin, smiling up at you as he helped you down the last few steps. He leaned in close, whispering in your ear, “Good evening, Princess. You look wonderful tonight.” You were still jittery from seeing the attendees had still not lost interest in your arrival, but the prince’s sudden proximity did nothing to help your nerves. “May I have this dance?” he requested, already leading you to the center of the marble floors.

The people watched for the first few steps of your dance before eventually returning to their own agendas, leaving just a few select eyes on you. As Prince Seokjin began to make small talk with you, you looked around observing the gazes you still felt were those of your father, of course, the two other princes observing closely from the edge of the room, and a few other extraneous sets of eyes from other partygoers. Seokjin talked about his and your kingdom's respective economies and how your marriage could possibly benefit the both of them while you scanned the room for one particular person, and finally you found him. He had been leaning against a decorative pillar and you could have sworn you caught his eyes flick away when you had found him. He looked bored, even borderline irritated, which you couldn’t blame him for as you were feeling the same way yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Seokjin, he had a pleasant air about him and a wonderful, regal smile. It was the fact that you knew just by how he spoke that he wasn’t interested in marrying you for love, but because it was his duty as soon-to-be-king of his land.

The song finally ended and the two of you parted after he gave a deep bow which you returned with a polite curtsy. You turned on your heel in order to make it to where you saw Taehyung standing before, but he was no longer there when you searched once again. Refraining from letting a confused pout show itself in front of all these important people, you decided to take a walk around and greet some guests. You conversed with some older dukes and duchesses, them asking about your plans for the future and you answering with a very complex and diplomatic version of ‘I don’t know.’

You began wandering around through the crowd once more, still keeping an eye out for your knight when the hem of your dress was suddenly caught behind you, making you stumble backwards as you continued to move forward. You felt a hand on your shoulder helping to steady you, and you followed it to find the face of Prince Yoongi. “My apologies, Princess,” he spoke softly once he helped you to stand up straight once again.

“That’s alright,” you insisted with a warm smile. “I’m surprised you’re the first to do that tonight. This dress is a bit difficult to avoid.” You gave a friendly laugh despite the atmosphere soon becoming awkward and stiff as the prince said nothing else even though you stood, expecting something more.

“I’m not going to ask you to dance, if that’s what you’re waiting for.” Your smile faltered, taken aback by his bluntness. “I don’t think either of us really want that.” He turned and ambled away while you mutter a soft and confused ‘thank you,’ although you weren’t really sure whether you should be thankful for that.

You sighed and finally gave in to going over to the food table, secretly hoping Taehyung maybe started camping out there halfway through the night when he inevitably got bored. He wasn’t there either, though, and you couldn’t help but let the fact that your heart sunk in your chest become evident in your entire body expression. After all, he had promised he would be there for you tonight, but here he was, nowhere to be seen when truly you needed him. You took a few glances around to make sure no one was looking before quickly downing a large gulp of one of the glasses of wine they had set out for guests, needing something to lift your spirits.  

“Hello, Princess!” Just as you thought you were safe, you heard a cheerful greeting from your right, causing you to choke on the drink you had hoped no one who catch you with. You put a hand over your mouth, ungracefully coughing as you turned to find Prince Hoseok beaming at you. He quickly began to look worried however, tentatively placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”

You cleared your throat one last time before grinning up at him, unable to stop yourself from laughing at your own embarrassment, which he soon joined once he knew that you were okay. “I’m alright. I just can’t believe I got caught.”

“I can’t blame you. These things do tend to get a little boring,” he sympathized. “I’ve noticed you don’t seem to like crowds too much, either.”

“No, I can’t say that I do. These big formal events have never really been my thing,” you explained, earning an understanding nod from Hoseok.

“In that case, I’ll do you a favor and not ask you to dance.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that tonight!” you laughed. “I guess no one wants to dance with me,” you said, faking a pout.

Hoseok’s face became panicked and he quickly took back his statement. “No, I didn’t mean that! I’d love to dance with you, really! I just thought—”

You stopped him short in his frantic apology, laughing, “I was kidding! Please don’t make me dance.”

His tensed shoulders released as he mirrored your chuckle once again. “You had me worried there,” he sighed. “I thought I had really lost my chances of winning your heart there for a second.” You had completely forgotten that you were supposed to be deciding who you would marry and that this man was one of the candidates, which you supposed was a good thing, that he could take your mind off of it, but you weren’t sure how to interpret the intentions behind the fact that he brought up the subject so casually. Luckily, you were able to have comfortable conversation with Hoseok for the rest of the night without mentioning the dreaded subject of the future again.

You trudged back to your bedroom with your heels in hand since your feet were in stinging pain after having to stand for hours on end at the ball. You were so exhausted, you felt as if you could barely push the door open, but when you finally were able to, you wished you didn’t. You found Taehyung standing at your dresser just beside the drawer observing the little jewelry music box that had been sitting there untouched for years. “Oh, you’re back,” he acknowledged, opening the box to reveal the tiny figurine of a dancing girl and twisting the silver handle on the side of the box, filling the room with its twinkling melody.

You couldn’t hide your annoyance at him as you shut the door behind you a bit harder than usual and drowsily stomped in his direction. “So this is where you’ve been all night?” you questioned, slamming the music box closed and abruptly halting its tune as you passed by, not sparing the knight a glance.

“No, not all night. I went on duty outside for a little while, then I went by the barracks. Now I’m here.” He spoke so casually it boiled your blood even more, which he seemed to finally pick up on. “Are you upset?”

You gave an obvious sigh to point out your exasperation. “Yes, I am upset. Why weren’t you there tonight?” you asked him, letting him know full well that you were angry.

“What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stand watching you talk with all those princes that only want to marry you.” His voice came out stronger than intended.

You froze, narrowing your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He hesitated, eyes widening in regret of his previous words before stuttering out, “I-I felt bad for you. You looked so awkward and miserable from what I saw. It was hard to watch.”

“Well, I’m sorry my struggles are so offensive to you,” you scoffed, anger returning when his explanation was nowhere near what you hoped it would be. “That’s why I needed you, though, and you weren’t there! And I’ll have you know that once you left I had a much better time. It turns out Prince Hoseok is quite the conversationalist.”

He felt jealousy bubble up within him and a bitter scowl crept onto his lips. “Then it sounds like you didn’t need me,” he defended, finally turning to face you.

“Yes, but the point is that you promised me you would be there, but you weren’t.” You finally broke the facade of anger and revealed your true disappointment to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

His face softened and he closed the large gap across the room between you until he only stood a few feet away. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have left you when you needed me. I promise it won’t happen again,” he admitted remorsefully, looking down at the ground between you. You could tell his apology was genuine, although you still hadn’t completely forgiven him, you gave him a small smile, reaching out and taking his hand into your own. The way your fingers laced together and your eyes locked with each other’s felt a bit too intimate to be friendly, but that’s all it was. You were just friends.

The next day you awoke to the news that Prince Seokjin had asked you to join him for lunch and a walk through the garden, so you were promptly pampered and prepared for your date that afternoon. You hated that it was referred to as a date, making it feel as if it were something completely different than what was basically a mandatory business meeting. You and Seokjin enjoyed a lovely meal made by your finest chefs and discussed topics ranging from weather to possible battle strategies as he offered his larger army for aid in the war. Once the both of you began your stroll through the garden, Taehyung had the job of trailing far behind, only barely close enough to ensure your safety. You had been feeling his eyes on you every so often throughout your travels, but when Seokjin led you on top of the bridge with the water lilies, stopping to look down at the water with you, you were sure you were feeling his gaze burning into the back of your head.

Before parting ways, you gave Prince Seokjin a curtsy before heading straight away to your poor lonely knight. Although you were both mentally and physically tired, you playfully bounced over to where he stood, examining a particular flower very closely for some reason. He leisurely turned to meet your gaze, however his mood clearly did not match your own, his smile clearly seeming forced upon his lips as it did not travel to his eyes. Your lips immediately turned down in concern. “What’s wrong?”

He let out a weak and once again facetious chortle, insisting, “Nothing. I just don’t particularly enjoy following you and your prince around on your romantic outings.”

You choked back an obnoxious laugh at his interpretation of the date with Seokjin. “Trust me, that was anything but romantic.” You paused in reflection of all that you had conversed about. “I do suppose Prince Seokjin is the most practical choice for marriage, however, considering his ability to turn the tides of this war,” you sighed, trying to rationalize your thoughts into something close to a decision, even though you knew you were still far from making up your mind.

He arched a brow and wore a smug face. “You don’t need some prince and his army to save this kingdom. I can save you and everyone here single-handedly,” he boasted, gesturing to himself in a grand way.

You laughed as what you assumed was a joke and gave him a pat on the shoulder saying “I’m sure you could.” Little did you know, however, it really hadn’t been a joke on Taehyung’s part. He was just envious that you thought you had to depend on anyone besides him. You noticed his still somewhat sour mood, still not believing his response was truthful when you asked him if he was alright, so you suggested something that would hopefully give both of you an opportunity to have some peaceful time together away from the castle. “I need you to accompany me somewhere. We’re leaving the palace grounds,” you requested bluntly, already heading to get your cloak.

“Leaving the palace? I don’t think we can do that,” he warned, eyeing you with uncertainty as you clasped the front of the dark material together and placed the hood over your head.

You grasped him by the elbow and childishly pulled him along with you, taking several tugs before you finally were able to make him budge. “Sure we can. As long as you’re with me, everything should be just fine.” After offering him a cheeky smile, he finally caved in with a dramatic sigh, letting you pull him excitedly in the direction of the elaborate iron entrance gate.

Taehyung, the ever-alert and observant knight he was, felt a pair of eyes following your path as you dragged him outside the walls towards the town. He looked around behind him and found Prince Yoongi staring with his lips pressed together tightly, forming a thin line of suspicion, from a balcony on the second floor, before he slowly sunk back into his room, hands folded behind his back.

Both of you made it to the heart of the town where the lives of the people buzzed most energetically, everyone bustling through the square to finish their many errands before the sun goes down. You smiled brightly and clasped your hands together as you watched a young giggling boy dash past you as several other children chased after him. Taehyung had to remind himself that this perfectly normal lifestyle, one that he used to be a part of before training to become a knight and still returns to when he visits his mother living on the other side of town, was completely foreign to you, so you were bound to be entertained by little things like a game of tag. You took a moment to take in the world around you, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the crowded street. Even though you had been to the village several times before, it never ceased to amaze you. The crescendo of loud voices and the occasional laughter as you went further into its hearth made you feel like you lived in silence back in the palace.

Taehyung suddenly jerked you quickly to the side of the pathway, mumbling a shy apology to the man with the cart filled with pastries glaring at you as you blocked his path. “No offense, (y/n), but I don’t think you’re fit for this town,” Taehyung laughed, gazing down at you. You faked a scowl as you began once again leading him to your desired destination.

You finally stood before a humble little building with an obviously handmade sign above the door displaying its use. Taehyung breathed in deeply before sighing, “Really? Out of all the places we could have gone, you chose the library?”

You rolled your eyes at him, pushing the door open. “Come on, just let me have my fun.”

A bell rung as the door opened and a man emerged from a door behind the desk in the corner of the shop. “Your highness! It’s been a while since I’ve seen your beautiful face around here,” he welcomed you, a dimpled smile on his face.

“Nice to see you, Namjoon! I’ve been dying to get back here to find something new to read.” You return his smile before excitedly rushing over to the opposite wall made up entirely of shelves filled with books. “And, of course, to see you again,” you added with a teasing smile. You often spoke in this flirtatious manner with him, but you were nothing more than simple friends. It was easy to befriend him quickly because he didn’t know your true identity when you visited his library the first few times, so you could have a normal conversation with him, but even when he discovered you were the princess, he treated you no differently and you both remained friends, just as before. Both of you knew that, too. However, Taehyung didn’t.

Taehyung narrowed his eyes in distaste as Namjoon laughed at your comment wondering why you were suddenly so bold with this man he’d never even heard of before. “Who’s this?” Namjoon wondered, staring pointedly at Taehyung, his eyebrows subconsciously furrowing when he caught Taehyung’s scowl.

You tore your eyes away from the row of titles you were inspecting to answer him. “This is Taehyung. He was appointed as my knight. Luckily, with him around, I have a lot more freedom to come here more often,” you explained turning back to continue your search. Taehyung wasn’t sure he wanted that.

“Ah, yes, well you should still be careful, your highness. It’s dangerous out there these days,” he warned.

Your scanning eyes faltered for a moment. “Yes, I’ve heard,” you spoke solemnly.

Namjoon seemed to notice the dip in your mood at the mention of the war, so he attempted to lift your spirits once again. “I have new arrivals by the way!” he piped up, grabbing several books from behind his desk. “They’re all written by people of this town. We’ve got some talented writers in this kingdom.” He held them out for you, putting the remaining away as you chose one to take back home with you. “Hopefully, some day, I’ll have a book of yours on these shelves,” he sighed. “How’s the writing going, anyway?”

A blush spread across your cheeks at the mention of your writing, a subject you discussed with no one except for Namjoon. You glanced out of the corner of your eye in embarrassment to find Taehyung staring in curiosity. “Don’t get your hopes up,” you laughed bashfully. “I’ve gotten nowhere.”

You finally checked out your book of choice and talked a bit more with Namjoon before it was time to leave. You gave a quick goodbye and had to remind Taehyung to say something as well, wondering why he was being so abnormally quiet.

Once you stepped outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky an orange-pink color. You took note that the streets had emptied considerably as most probably huddled inside their homes to eat dinner with their families at this time. You would be worried that your father would be angry that you skipped on supper, but luckily for you, family dinners didn’t really exist anymore for the two of you, one of the many things that changed after your mother’s passing. You enjoyed the fading sounds of the town as you walked away from it, quickly becoming covered up by the buzz of cicadas. The tranquil environment was joined by the deep, rumbling voice of Taehyung, complimenting the sounds of nature perfectly. “So, you write books?” he questioned, staring ahead. “You’ve never told me anything about that.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest when you began to feel the night’s chill. “I don’t really tell anyone about that.”

Taehyung’s lips turned down in confusion and, there it was again, jealousy. “Well, you told Namjoon about it.”

“Yeah, that’s because—” you cut yourself off, squinting your eyes for better vision in the darkening night while getting a few steps in front of Taehyung for a better view of his face. “Wait… Are you jealous?”

Taehyung said nothing. He only continued walking back to the castle, eyes set on the now-visible gates and hands stuffed in his pockets. You couldn’t take that as a definitive answer, but you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, secretly liking the idea of Taehyung getting jealous over you. “Well, you should let me read what you’ve got sometime,” he suggested, a smile ghosting his lips.

You shook your head in embarrassment. “No way. It’s not good, and I don’t even have time to do it. It’s just a stupid idea.”

Taehyung spoke seriously once again, finally turning to face you with sincerity in his eyes. “Don’t say that, (y/n). It’s about damn time you do something for you and no one else.” You hated to admit that he almost induced tears with how much you resonated with what he said. He added lightheartedly with a smirk, “Besides, I’m sure anything you write can be better than that other book you gave me.”

“Hey, that’s my favorite book you’re talking about!” you scolded him. You paused in realization for a moment before a huge smile spread across your face as you realized his true intention behind what he said. “You actually read the book! You were just too shy to actually say it!” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” he mumbled through a smile, his ears burning red. You hummed in response, although you made it be known you were not convinced. “Just don’t tell my friends, okay? They’ll think I’m a softie.”

You laughed, endeared by his stubbornness. The fact that he actually listened to you and was interested in what you liked made your heart thump in your chest. He was making your heart beat like this far too often recently, and you know it should be worrying, but it just felt too good to care.

‘Another day, another date’ was becoming your motto these days as every morning for the past five days you woke up to hearing you had an outing planned with one of the princes. So far, Prince Hoseok was the easiest to get along with while Prince Seokjin was the most practical choice. Today was only your first interaction with Prince Yoongi, however, and you dreaded it due to how your first official meeting at the ball went. You were told he would meet you in the ballroom, which you already found odd since that room was only ever used for public events.

You entered through the formal entrance and found Yoongi sitting at the grand piano on the far side of the room. You had to walk down the stairs to reach him and you felt so wrong descending without wearing one of your elaborate and expensive ball gowns. Instead you wore one of your casual dresses, which contrary to what one would believe, still lacked comfortability and functionality. As you crossed the expansive room, you looked down at your reflection in the marble while listening to the melody that Yoongi played. It was soft and sweet, but there was a melancholic tinge in its minor chords. His eyes were closed and he was focused solely on the notes the ivory keys played. You cleared your throat timidly when you reached him and his eyes finally fluttered open. “Have a seat.” He patted the spot next to him on the bench before returning his hands to the keys.

You awkwardly sat as close to the edge as possible, still confused as to what exactly you were doing here. “So, what’s the plan for today?” you wondered, a tight smile tugging at your lips. He said nothing and only shrugged with a slight shake of his head. “Are we just sitting here while you play the piano? I suppose I wouldn’t mind that, actually…” you trailed off thoughtfully.

“I had a feeling,” he mumbled. His hands began to slow down, the melodic piece coming to an end and you were surprisingly disappointed.

“So, what was this for exactly?” You curiously eyed him, waiting for some sort of explanation although you weren’t sure of you would get one since it seems he’s a man of few words.

Surprisingly, however, he gave you the answer you were seeking. “I just thought I’d give you a break from the whole speed dating scene. I know it’s not what you want.” You wanted to thank him, but it worried you that he acknowledged that you didn’t want to get married since this knowledge may cause problems. “Also, I’ve been wanting to use this piano for days, but I thought it would look bad if I came in here on my own,” he admitted. You deadpanned at first, but then you saw the shy smile displayed on his face and marveled at the contrast between the two different sides of him you had seen.

You beamed, continuing to talk about the piano, hoping it would keep him in a light mood, “Yeah, it seems you’re passionate about it.”

Luckily, it seemed to work and his smile, while softer, remained. “It would be nice if I had more time to invest in music, though. Instead, I’ve got a kingdom to run in a few years.” He trailed off, running his hands along the keys. “I know it’s a dumb thing to want, but…”

“No, I get it! I have this crazy dream of being an author,” you tried to relate to him. “As if that could ever work,” you laughed, yet it was void of genuine humor.

You felt him eyeing you from the side before he spoke up, “I knew you weren’t a normal princess.” He smirked and stood from the bench, rounding the piano and heading towards the exit.

“What do you mean by that?” you questioned, hesitantly following him.

“Well, you just aren’t typical, I suppose. You don’t exactly try too hard to be ‘proper.’” You weren’t sure if you were supposed to take that as an insult or not. “You actually have a passion for something, unlike most of the other boring princesses I’ve ever met.” You supposed that was at least slightly true. You had met with other princesses when you were younger and it felt like you were talking to a machine sometimes with how trained and robotic their conversation skills were. “Not to mention, you ate of the forbidden fruit and fell in love with a non-royal.”

Your mouth dropped open as your mind desperately grasped for some sort of explanation to his final claim. He glanced over his shoulder as he heard the clicking of your heels stop behind him. His face was casual, and his voice at first seemed the same way, but if you listened closer, there was a warning nature present in the rumble of his words. “Don’t act so surprised. It wasn’t hard to discover those feelings you have for that knight of yours. You’re a brave one,” he drawled, continuing his nonchalant steps to the door. He spoke over his shoulder one last time, his voice taking on a somber feel this time, “Don’t worry, though. Your secret is safe with me.” With that, he left. You stood in the center of the empty dance floor, physically winded by his revelation. You hadn’t even acknowledged your feelings before for yourself, but when you heard it aloud, you knew it could not be denied. You were left standing, dumbfounded, and even worse, terrified to be in love. True love was a luxury that rarely persisted in this suffocating lifestyle you were born into.

Tonight, Prince Hoseok had invited you on a late-night horseback riding trip on the outskirts of the castle wall. Because he was well trained in swordsmanship, he was able to convince the king to send you out with only him and no knights to accompany you. While you were glad it gave Taehyung a much needed evening off, things became all the more nerve wracking for you when it was just you alone with the prince. Hoseok, you observed throughout your several outings with him, was skilled in keeping the conversation topic from straying to something that might make you uncomfortable or upset, which often stunted the productivity of these outings’ true objectives, but you were thankful nonetheless. However, as time ticked by and weeks passed without any real progress, and all the princes and the king could easily see that was so, Hoseok had no choice but to finally bring up those dreaded topics. He pulled back on his horse’s reins to slow down its speed, and as you noticed him falling behind, you did the same. He wore a gentle smile, just as he always did, but this time there was a hint of guilt behind it. “Princess, I’m aware you don’t like talking about your marriage in the future, but I think it’s time we discuss it.”

You were sure your disappointment was obvious to him, but you were actually having a nice time with him, so you were disheartened to see that hope slip away so easily with only a few words. You had to at least try to act like a proper princess, though, so you lied and agreed, “Of course. You’re right. This can’t be avoided forever.” You turned your steed around and guided him back closer to the prince.

“I’ve been thinking, (y/n)...” You were taken aback for a moment at the sudden use of your name. You felt guilty for becoming somewhat angry since he was such a wonderful person as you had come to know, but for some reason it just sounded wrong coming from him. It only felt right when it was vocalized in Taehyung’s deep and comforting octave. “I don’t want to make the decision for you, but I think we should be married.”

This time you made no effort to hide your bewilderment. Prince Hoseok had never been so forward and now he practically proposed to you with no problem at all. He reached out for you with shaking hands as he tried to support his claim. “I know! I know it sounds crazy, but if you’ll just hear me out,” he said carefully before lowering his hands and pausing, waiting for your reaction. When you said nothing, he continued, swallowing as he observed that your face was still displeased. “Although we haven’t gotten very much time to know each other, I really do enjoy your company. I know that all of this is not at all what you want, but if we have to do this, then I think I can see a future for us where I can make you happy… if you let me.” He had stumbled over his words several times, but that only went to further attest to what you were sure was sincerity.

You knew you should have taken that much more to heart, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t handle any of this right now. Your head was spinning and you were far too overwhelmed. You didn’t want to come to terms with your future if the one person you imagined it with couldn’t be a part of it. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, eyes unfocused. “I don’t think this is a good time to talk about this.”

Before he was able to say another word, you had your horse sprint off and hoped he wouldn’t follow. He didn’t. You couldn’t do it. You had always been terrified of the day this would come, but now that it was here, you couldn’t even bring yourself to accept it.

Without thinking, you rode over to the knights and trainees’ barracks, dismounting from your horse and leaving him at the front gate. You received many shocked reactions, most of them never having seen their princess in the flesh before, and knights whispering to one another as you passed them by. You hated that you had to speak to these strangers while your voice still quivered, but you knew there was no way you would be able to find Taehyung on your own in this mess of people.

You approached a group of men who had been engrossed in their own conversation and had not noticed your presence until you spoke to them. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Sir Taehyung. Do you know where he could be?” Before you had finished speaking all three of them dropped to their knees before you. Feeling frustrated you begged for them to stand back up, tears pricking your eyes as you felt more isolated than ever when you looked around as all those who gave confused and panicked faces before followed them and dropped to their knees as well.

Your breathing felt constricted as you became suffocated by the panic that continued to build up within you. As you desperately searched for one person near you that wasn’t bowing, you suddenly spotted a head of dirty blond hair, being the only one who remained standing. “Taehyung!” you exclaimed to yourself, hoping it wasn’t loud enough for others to hear your lack of formalities. You ran to him and wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and cry into his chest like he’s let you do before, but with all these eyes on you, you had to be very careful what you did, so you skidded to a stop only a few steps ahead of him. It didn’t take him long to notice the tears plaguing your eyes, giving a worried look and reaching out to you before forcing his face back to a neutral position and bringing his hands back to his sides as he glanced around at his colleagues.

You heard heavy footsteps from behind you accompanied by a vaguely familiar voice bellowing, “Is everything alright, Your Highness?” You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes, though you were sure it would not do much help, and turned slowly to be faced with an older bearded man that you had seen at several meetings your father held with high officials and military leaders. You never learned his name, but you knew he was a high ranking captain in your kingdom’s army, and you also knew he had an affinity for sucking up to your father in order to move his way up the ranks. You had a feeling that extended to the princess as well.

“Yes, captain, everything is fine,” you insisted, struggling to keep your words steady. “I was just looking for my knight here.” You gestured back to Taehyung who remained emotionless, wary of his authority. He only hummed, glancing between the both of you before you decided to put an end to whatever thoughts he was processing. “Please, resume your duties. I’ve gotten what I was looking for.” You locked eyes with Taehyung and gave him a plea for help to which he gave a minute nod and led you away from all the onlookers.

You followed him silently while you still felt the wary eyes of the captain locked onto your trail. Taehyung brought you to one of the many small barracks held up by worn wooden planks. He quietly opened the door before letting you in behind him, waving you in when you hesitated for fear of being seen following your knight into his sleeping quarters. As Taehyung carefully pushed the door shut behind him, he turned around at the alarm of your gasp.

Suddenly, there were two boys about the same age as Taehyung hopping off of their beds and kneeling on the wooden floor before you. You looked back to Taehyung in shock, thinking no one else would be around. “What are you guys doing here? You said you would be out in town tonight!” Taehyung fulminated between clenched teeth staring down at the two men he shared his barrack with.

The smaller of the two answered Taehyung quietly, head still facing the ground. “We decided not to. We didn’t realize we would have royal company tonight.”

The other slowly lifted his head up, eyes wide as he looked to Taehyung, making sure his eyes never landed on even a single thread of your clothing. He mumbled shyly, “If you don’t mind me asking, what is Her Highness doing here?” He accidentally let his innocent eyes wander over to your face before taking in a sharp breath through his teeth when he realized his mistake.

You approached the both of them without getting too close for fear of accidentally scaring the poor boy out of his wits. “Please, stand up. You don’t have to bow. Any friend of Taehyung’s is a friend of mine,” you gently commanded, giving them a warm smile when they both finally lifted their heads.

The first of the boys to speak let a tentative grin show itself, questioning you just as you had caught your own mistake, “No formalities? You guys must be pretty close, huh?”

To your surprise, Taehyung didn’t deny like you thought he would, making you think he must trust these guys. “You could say that,” he agreed, biting back a proud smile. The shorter boy gave Taehyung a knowing glance for a reason you couldn’t decipher. Taehyung then cleared his throat directing his attention to you. “(Y/n), these are my roommates and friends, Jimin,” he motioned to the shorter boy who gave you a small nod which you returned, “and Jungkook.” He gestured to the taller boy who still couldn’t meet your eyes when you tried to greet him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Your Highness. We’ve heard so much about you.” Jimin wore a devious smirk. You caught Taehyung reaching to give him a blow to the back of the head, but when he caught your gaze on him, he grudgingly stopped himself and dropped his arm back to his side. You giggled as Jimin smacked him in the back playfully.

You wanted to fish some more information out of Jimin, but you were interrupted by Jungkook’s quiet voice. “Forgive me for prying, Your Highness, but are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying,” he observed with worry in those big eyes of his. For a moment, you had forgotten the reason you had come in the first place, but you were sure your eyes were still red and puffy from your previous panicking.

The smile fell from your face for a moment and you glanced over to Taehyung who was watching you worriedly before you assured him you were fine. “We should go. Come on, (y/n).” Taehyung was already back to the door leading you out, and you were upset that you were already having to say goodbye to his friends. You wanted to get to know the people that Taehyung liked and you wanted to know what they heard about you, but you knew the longer you stayed, the more chance you had of getting yourself into trouble.

He brings you around to the side of the building in hopes of achieving a little more privacy. “I’m sorry about that, (y/n), I planned to talk to you about whatever happened, but then they were there and messed up everything.”

“Don’t say that. It was nice to see the people you spend time with,” you cheered him up despite your low mood. “Now it’s late, though, and I really should get back to the castle.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there tomorrow morning and you can talk to me about anything you need to,” he reassured you with an encouraging smile, grazing his fingertips over your forearms and pulling away just as they reached your wrists before he would become tempted to take hold of your hand. You only stared at him, prolonging your visit, your feelings taking control much easier now that you had acknowledged their existence. “Go!” he laughed, shooing you away. “This isn’t the place for a beautiful princess. It’s for gross and sweaty guys, none of which deserve you.” If he had lumped himself in with that group, then he was sorely mistaken, you thought.

You began to return to the castle before you stopped to look back at him once more. He rolled his eyes and began to wave you away again, but you stopped him, pulling his hands down from where they motioned in front of your face. “Okay, I’ll go! Just—” You cut yourself off by wrapping your arms tightly around Taehyung’s torso and pulled yourself closer to him. His eyes were wide and his reaction was delayed.

You backed away and hurried back to the castle without another word, leaving Taehyung behind confused and calling after you, “What was that for?”

You both knew there was something between the two of you that was being left unsaid. Something that both scared and excited you, and Taehyung came to realize both his dream and nightmare could be coming to fruition. That initiation would be coming sooner than he ever imagined when his keen eyes missed the forbidding gaze of the captain hidden just out of sight.

Little did either of you know that someone had witnessed it all. The way a knight called his princess by her name, how the knight looked into his princess’ eyes so fondly and called her beautiful as if he could say it a thousand times more, how the princess and her knight had embraced lovingly without even knowing when the princess was meant to be betrothed to another.

The rough man’s heavy boots pounded into the ground as he followed not far behind you to the castle to request a seeing with the king. He was sure the princess’ father would be entirely thankful to hear of his daughter’s betrayal from his most trusted military leader.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed at the king’s feet. “There is something about the princess that you should know. I believe there is something quite... concerning going on between the princess and that knight of hers.”

The king gave the captain his full attention as he described what he had allegedly seen in the training camp that evening. The king’s hands gripped tightly onto the gilded arm rests of his throne and his forehead creased in worry. “I see. I will have eyes on her tomorrow. If someone reports to me with the same accusation, I will have no choice but to believe it. Thank you.” He buried his face into his palm, dismissing the captain with his free hand. If what the captain said was true, the king would have to put an immediate stop to it somehow. He couldn’t hand you his kingdom he had worked so hard to build only for your delusions of love to throw it all away, for love doesn’t exist and believing only leads to destruction.

Taehyung had already arrived by the time you woke up the next morning with a hot cup of tea for the both of you and an open heart to listen to all of your deepest anxieties that you were anxiously waiting to pour out to him. You both went to sit in the window seat, backs against the adjacent walls of the alcove with your legs pulled up just barely enough to keep from touching as you faced each other, the sun shining in a beautifully painted backdrop.

Taehyung didn’t rush you, but instead waited patiently as whatever had happened last night seemed to still be difficult to bring up. “Your friends seem really nice,” you said with a smile, eyes focused on your hands clasped around your knees bringing them closer to your chest. “I wish I had someone like them.”

“You have me.” There was no hint of a joke in his answer making it feel all the more genuine and comforting as the softness of his voice caressed your ears.

You bit back a smile and looked up to find his intense gaze already on you, though it softened with one glance at your shining eyes. “Yeah, I do.” The moment began to feel too tender, too raw, and you became too scared to look deeper into his eyes, fearing you would fall into them with no way out if you stayed a moment longer. You tore away and your eyes traveled to the floor just beside you as you sighed, “I wish the princes were as easy to talk to as you.” You were searching for a way to break the news of what Prince Hoseok had asked you the night before, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it on your own. “I don’t know how I’ll ever choose from people that I really just don’t know.”

Taehyung heard your voice begin to waver and he quickly wanted to put a smile on your face, so in a panic he tried to joke, “Well, you should choose soon before they all run away.” He immediately regretted what he said and was sure it was a mistake, but his heart was calmed when he saw you crack a smile.

“Hey!” you shouted at him, grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it at him in retaliation. You laughed as his eyes were widened with surprise at the hefty blow from such a soft pillow before he joined in your laughter, relieved he hadn’t made the situation exponentially worse. He took a moment to examine the pillow, picking it up from where it landed beside him. He pulled at the loose fabric, questioning, “Why is there a huge hole in this pillow?”

You chuckled and snatched it back with a devious glint in your eye, giving Taehyung high expectations for your explanation. “That’s where I used to hide my books from Namjoon’s library when I was sneaking out into town before you came along.”

“That was probably the most anticlimactic excuse I’ve ever heard,” Taehyung deadpanned, although he should have seen it coming from a princess with such a sheltered life as you had always lived. Things like that were exciting, despite how boring they seemed to the average man. You threw your head back laughing, nodding in acknowledgement of his point as you realized it really was as boring as he made it out to be. Taehyung’s boxy smile appeared as he admired the genuine joyful stretch of your lips that he had been deprived of for the past few weeks due to the immense amount of stress you were under.

You suddenly stopped and zeroed in on the top of Taehyung’s head finding a small piece of stuffing from the pillow resting on top of his hair. He frantically questions you as you lean over and reach you hand out, his head flinching away in confusion from your sudden action. You ran your fingers through the strands of his hair to brush it out, secretly admiring the softness of it beneath your touch, a feeling you were always curious to discover. After that, you couldn’t resist letting your eyes get lost in the beautiful landscape of his face, the deep brown of his eyes drawing you in once again. Luckily, he didn’t catch it, however, because he himself was occupied with doing the same, entranced in the way your lips parted innocently and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to feel the way they moved with his own. His tongue poked out to run across his dry lips as his eyes went to meet yours while yours flicked down to follow the action. He wouldn’t have to wonder what your lips would taste like for much longer as you both inched closer, completely forgetting about who you were and instead only thinking about who you wanted to be.

You were mere centimeters apart before you gasped, finally coming back to your senses and hastily pushing yourself away from him. You stood up and worriedly straightened out your dress as you paced further away from him. You couldn’t believe you let yourself cave in and slip up so badly. If anyone had seen, you would be in deep trouble, and Taehyung would be killed. But everything is alright because no one saw and no one knew. And no one would ever find out. Only you and Taehyung would know. Just the two of you. But also the knight that had been standing guard outside your door who was ordered to keep an eye on you, and when the voices in the room disappeared and it was eerily quiet, he silently opened the door, and saw what no one was ever supposed to see.

And because of that, the one person that had the power to ruin everything would come to know of your horrible mistake as well.

After the almost-kiss you and Taehyung shared only a day before, you were faced with great difficulty in being in the same space as each other. There were too many words that needed to be said that were being pushed away as if they had no meaning. If only you had swallowed your fears and confessed to him all that you desperately needed to say before it was too late.

You spent a sleepless night, switching back and forth several times between lying in bed and sitting back in your place at the window, replaying the scene that prevented your sleep over and over in your hyperactive mind. You finally woke up only slightly before midday, regretfully pushing yourself up into a sitting position to scan the room in hopes of finding Taehyung somewhere within it, ignoring the fluttering of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. Your head ticked to the side when you saw he was nowhere to be found, so you threw the blankets off of you and forced yourself into the unwelcoming day.

You hurriedly dressed yourself without waiting for the presence of your ladies-in-waiting and quietly creaked open the door, finding Taehyung was not standing outside as you had hoped for either. A frown overtook your softly hopeful features as you ventured out into the hallways of the palace. You noticed each time you passed a maid or servant they would glare timidly at you until you were out of sight around the corner of the hall, only for you to encounter the same actions from other workers in the castle.

Without realizing it, your feet had led you all the way to the barracks, still in search of your knight, although you weren’t quite sure where this confidence had originated from considering you were practically praying for Taehyung to leave just yesterday. You didn’t mind the knights that stopped and dropped to their knees at the sight of you this time, setting yourself on autopilot towards the barrack you made sure to remember the path towards. You found yourself hesitating just before you reached the door, unsure why your fearlessness wavered, only a wave of uncertainty flushing through you for a moment, but you pushed onward and gave the worn down door a firm knock.

You were met with the same big and timid eyes of Jungkook as he opened the door for you, hurriedly letting you in with a clearly alarmed demeanor. You assumed that was just him acting like himself, but you realized something was wrong when Jimin’s familiar face was unrecognizably tensed. “I-I came looking for Taehyung,” you stuttered, suddenly overcome with a very bad feeling.

Jimin’s eyes widened more than they already had been, walking over to you with concern. “Have you not heard? He was put in the front lines of the troops at Ambrosia Field.” The words terrified you as soon as they left his mouth. You remembered from that time before you had even met Taehyung that things were ugly and the fearful soldier that came to your father for help claiming your kingdom’s men were being slaughtered there. And now, Taehyung was thrown full force into the mess of it all.

You felt as if the breath was knocked out of your lungs with the blow of the news and you began to assume the worst. “The front lines?” you gasped in horror. “But... He could get hurt!” You couldn’t bear the picture that painted itself in your mind, overpowered by shades of crimson as you imagined Taehyung leading the troops in battle. Your hands came to grip at your hair harshly as you felt guilt flow all the way to your fingertips. He must have lost his place as your knight because he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. “This is all my fault… Someone must have seen. This is all my fault!”

Jungkook immediately rushed to your side as you dropped to the floor, gravity becoming too harsh a competitor to deal with on top of the fear within your heart. Jimin followed his younger friend, attempting to calm you and asking, “What did someone see?”

You finally regained control of yourself, though still unable to pinpoint the origin of your sudden composure. You dropped your hands back to your sides and stared vacantly ahead. “We almost kissed.”

Suddenly you were running back to the castle. You weren’t even sure how it happened, and you didn’t even remember saying goodbye to the boys and for all you knew, maybe you didn’t. The only thing you were positive of was that you looked just as much of a mess as your mind was in the moment.

You wasted no time in flinging open the doors of the throne room, screaming without hesitance, “How could you?”

Your father looked to be expecting your arrival, awaiting your reaction with a stern and stubborn stature, already pushing himself up from his throne. “(Y/n), I should be furious with you. Do you want to throw away all in this kingdom that I’ve built up for you? Your childish actions are completely unacceptable!”

You scoffed, trying your best to hide your tears in front of this man you could no longer call your father, who you had been forcing yourself to call father for years. You knew he was corrupt, but because he was your father by blood, you felt as if you owed it to him to always take his side, even when it wasn’t right. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” you shouted, though your voice wavered and you became even more enraged because of it.

“What’s done is done. End of discussion.” The king’s hardened glare bore into you, mocking you while you struggled to stand your ground, this being the first time in your life you’ve ever gone against him. “And because of your immature decisions, I don’t think you’re capable of choosing a suitor for yourself, so I have decided you will marry Prince Hoseok.”

You wanted nothing more than to lash out, to protest and save yourself from this vicious cycle repeated throughout history, but your feet carried you away before you could do anything. You were still young and you still had many fears, one of them being your father, and even now, standing in front of him made you feel small and helpless and insignificant, just as always. So you ran.

Your tears were uncontrollable, blurring your vision as you desperately needed to get out of the corridor with so many gazes witnessing you at your lowest. Perhaps you weren’t the strong princess and soon-to-be-queen, you realized, as all of your grip on this twisted reality disintegrated before you, and as you reached out to catch its ashes, you gripped onto the sleeve of someone blocking your way. Holding you steady after your harsh collision was Hoseok. You looked up to him, pieces arranging back together as you were pulled back down to earth, and seeing his face made your sobs become even more violent. “I’m sorry, but you are one of the last people I want to see right now.”

He held you back from trying to push past him, lowering himself to eye level with you. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? Is it because your father told you about our engagement?” His face harbored hurt as he assumed this reaction was because you were afraid to spend the rest of your life with someone you would never love.

You ignored his question, sobbing into his arm while Hoseok wrapped the other around you in attempts to comfort you. “He’s going to die.”

Hoseok immediately lifted you up, concern evident, “Who? Who’s going to die?”

You tried to push past him once again, but it was only in vain since your energy quickly depleted due to your panic. You didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore, realizing the tears suddenly stopped flowing. Finally saying the words you feared to voice finally out loud made your anxiety become an empty feeling. “Taehyung.”

Hoseok’s brows creased in thought, and also due to your sudden calmness. “Who is—Isn’t that your knight?”

You gave a weak nod, not worrying about keeping this a secret any longer, for it would be something you would never move past, and you both would be living together for the rest of your lives, after all. “My father sent him to die… because I loved him.”

Hoseok looked hollow for a second, and you almost mustered up the strength to feel guilty when you knew he had expressed his feelings for you before, and this proved there must have been some authenticity to them. Suddenly, you had a realization. This was all too familiar. Your mother had told you a story when you were young, and she had made sure this recounting was kept secret from your father. It was a story of a prince who fell in love with a princess, but the princess was in love with a swordsman. Your father was the prince, your mother was the princess, and the knight was…

The blank ceiling of your bedroom suddenly displayed abstract shapes that your dried eyes tricked themselves into seeing. There was a good chance you had been staring for several hours, but you weren’t entirely sure. The sleepless night dragged on for what felt like a century. Though you could not actually bring yourself to sleep, your eyes drooped as it had been a week since you could sleep properly. After all, on nights like these, you would pass the time with the gentle voice of Taehyung, but instead he was the very reason for your sleeplessness. Well… not exactly him, but something far stranger that scared you to your wit’s end. If your theory was correct, your suspicions of your father would be proven correct.

There’s no better time like the present, so you decided it’s time to find out the truth once and for all. This meant you would have to face your father, even though you knew his was the last face you want to see now. Your feet stomped across the expensive carpets in determination, destination set to the throne room where you would once again find your father. Just before you rounded the last corner to enter the main hall, you heard the voice of one of the old maids speaking hushedly with another while they cleaned the unnoticeable dust on the floorboards for the fourth time this week. “Did you hear? The princess’s knight is back from battle.”

Already thumping in anticipation of your interrogation of your father, your heart rate increased dangerously, whether in excitement or fear, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t even registered that you were running in the opposite direction of the throne room. This conversation—anything—could wait until after you finally see Taehyung. Your fear of never seeing him again that persisted all the time he was away was finally dissipating before your eyes. You dodged a door opening just in front of your path, but then you collided with the person who had just come from within that room, and after a moment of inspection, you recognized the familiar features of Jiwoo.

Her eyebrows shot up at your disheveled and breathless form, immediately querying, “Are you alright, Your Highness?”

You nodded excitedly, a wide smile spread across your face while you held onto her arm to steady you. “Sir Taehyung is back from battle!” You loosened your grip on her arm and turned to continue on your path, but before you could take another step, you felt her fingers slip down to grip your wrist before you could tug it away. You turned back and the smile on your face faltered at her uncertain features. “What is it?”

She swallowed tightly, brows still weighed down with concern. “Your Highness, haven’t you heard?” Her head shook in disbelief. “Sir Taehyung is… unwell.” You could feel your heart drop to your stomach. She was vague and clearly had much more to say than she let on, but you got the message loud and clear. Taehyung didn’t come back safely like you had wished for every night before bed, looking out over the expanse of trees where you were sure he would be, leading the troops like the hero he is. You should have known, otherwise he wouldn’t have returned so soon. Without another word, you yanked your wrist free from her grasp and rushed to find Taehyung, changing your destination to the infirmary camp, a ways outside the walls of the castle.

Much to the confusion and dismay of the young stable boy who knew you weren’t supposed to ever take your horse on a ride on your own, you quickly lifted yourself up onto your steed’s back and took off, leaving a few guards who had caught you leaving in the dust. You rode for a few minutes before you finally saw the large white tent with overworked nurses going in and out in a frenzy. You carelessly jumped from your saddle onto the ground, not caring about the splatters of mud that lined the bottom of your skirt. You entered the tent, bumping into a few women in white carrying handfuls of bandages and medicines, who were so busy they probably didn’t even have the time to register you were the princess.

You were horrified at the sights you were met with inside the infirmary tent. There were at least a hundred men splayed out on hospital beds, either covered in blood or coughing it up. Some had missing limbs, and tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at some who seemed they may not have been breathing anymore. You were terrified, inspecting every single agonized face, and you never felt more guilty for having the sheltered life you lived, safe and sound inside the walls of the palace while these men fought to the death for you and your kingdom.

As you made your way further into the infirmary, several beds with patients currently being treated were closed off by curtains and it was getting increasingly difficult to find the face of the man you were looking for. Finally, you caught sight of a blond head of hair from behind a curtain that had not been closed all the way. Your hand visibly shook as you pushed the curtain aside to see the face that belonged to the blond-headed man.

And sure enough, there he was, torso and arms wrapped heavily in bandages that were stained red. Completely overwhelmed by the pain you knew he must be suffering, you fell to your knees and buried your face in your hands on the sheets of the bed beside his arm. You heard shuffling from behind and looked to see two nurses returned to his sectioned off area, stopping short in their tracks as they saw you on the ground beside Taehyung’s bed and bow their heads in respect for their princess. You wasted no time and frantically questioned, “Will he be alright? Is he going to be okay?” You had always been taught to keep yourself calm and composed in front of your subjects, but you had thrown all rules you had known to the wind because of your worry for your dear knight.

The nurses glanced warily to each other and one timidly spoke up, knowing you would be unhappy with the answer, “He is in... very poor condition, Your Highness.”

Your breath felt caught in your throat at their confirmation of his fragile state and you could only slowly turn your face back to observe his own, pain evident on his paled face even while slept. “Please leave us for a moment,” you ordered quietly to the nurses while still keeping your gaze locked on Taehyung. They bowed their heads once more before quickly scurrying behind the curtain. “Taehyung...” the sound barely escaped your lips in a shaky breath as you ghosted your fingertips over the back of his hand, desperately wishing you could grasp it and never have to worry about being seen and frowned upon. You saw his fingers twitch ever-so-slightly in response to your touch.

He pushed out a labored sigh and winced at the movement of his abdomen. “Well, hello there, Princess,” he attempted to speak casually, but the pain in his voice gave him away. His eyes were focused solely on you, though they were half-lidded. He gives a weak smile to reassure you, though the absence of its boxy shape that you had become so fond of makes it more difficult to comfort you.

At the pitiful sound of his voice, you let tears finally escape your eyes and cascade down your cheeks, but you still managed to send a pained smile to your lips. “How can you speak so casually? You could have died.” You chose to ignore the fact that death could still be a possibility. There was no way you would accept that he wasn’t home to stay, especially because, somewhere along the way, he had become home to you. The castle you lived in was merely a building, but he was the safe space that you never were allowed in the palace, the place where you could be wholeheartedly you.

“It would be an honor to die while protecting my princess.” His smile grew as he spoke, into a more genuine one and you felt as if your heart were being pulled in your chest, knowing that he would so willingly give himself up for you. He heaved in another painful breath before asking with hopeful eyes, “Did you find my gift?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, straightening yourself up in confusion. “No. What gift?”

“I left something for you to find in your room before I left, but I had to hide it. If someone else had seen it, I could have easily been beheaded,” he explains, laughing weakly, yet his reasoning left you with several frantic questions. “You should go look for it.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” You mentally cursed yourself for sounding so weak in front of him when he needed you to be strong for him in the moment.

The nurses who had disappeared before pulled back the curtain with medical equipment in hand. “We’re sorry, Your Highness, but he really needs to be treated again.”

You hurriedly wiped your tears, giving Taehyung’s hand a squeeze before standing and preparing to leave. “I understand. Please take good care of him.” You looked back down to where he lied one last time before letting the nurses take over.

You went back to the castle slowly and solemnly, choosing instead to walk beside your horse and lead him by the reins to prolong your journey back. You finally reached the inside of the building, then you ascended the first, then the second staircase up to you bedroom. You finally stopped to take a breath after holding it for far too long just after you had slammed the doors shut behind you, locking the door to prevent anyone else from entering.

Your tired eyes carefully scanned your room in thought, everything looking as pristine as always. Suddenly, it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you. You had to know what it was that he left for you. You began to tear the place apart, ripping the pillows and blankets from your bed, throwing aside all of the expensive dresses hanging in your closet, but wherever you looked, there was nothing unusual there. Where would Taehyung have put something that he only wanted you to find? What’s a special place in this room that only you would think to look? Your eyes that wandered around the room eventually fell on the window seat, where the both of you had sat and talked and reminisced and quarreled and experienced so many emotions together. It had to be there somewhere. You checked all corners and underneath each pillow, but saw nothing. As you threw down the last pillow you had lifted, it made an unusually loud thud as it came into contact with the wooden floor. As you examined closer, you found it had been the ripped pillow, the one with the hole in its seam. The one with a hole big enough to hide something in it! You scooped up the pillow once more and tore out all of its stuffing, finally finding the source of the loud sound the pillow had produced. When you finally fished it from the remains of the pillow, you pulled out a simple leather bound book. You carefully untied the strap holding it closed. You flipped slowly through the first few pages, then quickly through the rest as you discovered it was simply empty, and you almost missed the note written on the very last page of the book. It read:

I’m sorry this was all I could give you as a possible forever-parting gift. I know how much you love books, so I gave you an empty one where you could fill it up with your own story, just as you’ve always dreamed. It doesn’t matter that it’s not what you should be doing, but you should do it because it’s what you love. Promise me you will live your life without hesitations from now on. I don’t want you to be sad anymore. If I haven’t come back to you by the time you have found this, that probably means I won’t be coming back, but don’t be sad for me. I don’t want to see you cry from where I am looking down on you. Just know that I’m with my father again, and I’m telling him all about you and how much I loved you. I wish you nothing but happiness for the rest of your life, as much happiness as you were able to give me.

-Taehyung

You had trouble reading the last few sentences as your tears had partially blinded you. He really thought there was a chance he would never see you again, and this was all he was able to do to say goodbye. Most importantly, though… he said he loved you. Now, after days and weeks of agonizing over these feelings that confused you and that you were so sure you were definitely not allowed to feel, you knew now that there was no denying that you loved him, too.

Days had passed and you were still visiting Taehyung everyday in the infirmary. You had to request something extremely important of him before time ran out since the wedding seemed to be fast approaching, but you couldn’t let anything weigh heavily on his heart until he had healed a considerable amount. Taehyung finally was back to his alert and spirited self, although still bedridden, and you decided it was time to finally push the pressing issue to him. Your hands trembled and he noticed, reaching up to steady them within his own.

“I can’t live like this, Taehyung. I can’t stay here and live without the person I love. Run away with me.” He had told you he loved you in the message he left for you, so why were you so afraid he would turn you away? You anxiously scanned his features for any hint of a response. The sharp motion of his eyes had nearly given you a heart attack, yet they were still soft. He was shocked to say the least, but his wide eyes soon left the gaze of your own as they slid to focus behind you. You heard the clearing of a throat from just a few feet behind you and you jumped, seeing the unexpected visitor. “Prince Hoseok! What are you doing here?”

He had an small, ingenuine smile dancing across his lips, signaling he had definitely heard your request for Taehyung. “They told me I would probably find you here.”

He trailed off and the silence became tense. “...I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. You knew it must be hurting him, but he was a dear friend and nothing more.

“It’s alright. I had suspected something between the two of you for a while.” His eyes flicked over to Taehyung’s form still laying on the bed, watching the both of you closely. “I know that you’ll never be able to love me like I had hoped, but I want to help you. I want you to be happy, (y/n).”

You entered through the large doors of the throne room just behind Hoseok who had led the way with determined eyes, yet secretly still with a heavy heart. “Prince Hoseok. This was unexpected of you,” your father acknowledged him before shifting his gaze to you just behind the prince, a limping Taehyung with his arm hooked around your neck. You insisted that he should stay in the infirmary, but he stood firm in his claim that he should be there for you when you finally stood up to the king. Said man’s brows turned down in anger at the sight of Taehyung’s grimacing face. “Why is he here?” he spoke now directly to you, slowly so that he could vainly attempt to conceal his rage.

Hoseok put a stop to the thick tension in the room by directing the king’s attention back to himself. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I need to let you know about this sudden change of plans.” Your father’s eyebrows shot up. “I cannot marry your daughter if I cannot make her happy. I’m afraid I must call off the marriage.”

Your father quickly rose from his seated position. “She has to marry you. That isn’t her choice. It’s for the good of the kingdom!” his fist was now tightly enclosed and shaking wildly in the air in your direction.

“I love Sir Taehyung, Father.” You had not spoken with nearly enough courage, your voice coming out as meek as a mouse in the presence of your vicious feline of a father. His panicked eyes were on you once again in a mere moment, causing you to jump. Taehyung straightened himself up at your sudden jolt and placed a protective and comforting hand on the small of your back.

With a pretentious laugh, the king spat contemptuously, “Are you really going to tear down this kingdom I’ve worked all my life to improve upon because you think you’re in love? You don’t even know what love is, (y/n)!”

Before you could shrink any further you straightened yourself and attacked him with the words you had been waiting for him to hear for a while now. “No, you are the one with no capacity to love. You thought you loved mother, but you made her suffer by murdering the man she really loved, didn’t you? He had already moved on and started a family, but you knew mother still didn’t love you, so you did the only thing you could think of and sent him to die!” you screamed at your father. Taehyung’s hand had slid down into yours and squeezed it tightly. You looked over to his face which showcased all of the fresh scars of his past still burning deeply as they were brought up in front of him, and finally your suspicions were confirmed. “That was Taehyung’s father, wasn’t it? And you were going to take Taehyung’s life in just the same way, by having him slaughtered on the battlefield!” You desperately didn’t want Taehyung around while you dug up these buried griefs and practically threw them back in his face, but your father needed to know that you weren’t ignorant. Rage for your mother, Taehyung, Taehyung’s father, and everyone your father had ever hurt, everyone these horrific laws ever damaged burned within you. “You are a murderer!”

Your father’s confidence had disappeared only several words into your accusations and he was now the most humiliated and vulnerable you had ever seen him before, the large man you once looked up to as an ignorant child now shrunk into his seat in shame. He swallowed, slowly letting his eyes fall to the ground just before your feet. “How did you know about that?”

“Mother’s stories,” you finally breathed out the air that had been encased in your dry mouth. “It took me a long time to understand fully what she had been telling me and to piece it all together, but I think I put the pieces together pretty perfectly, didn’t I?” Your father was speechless. He eyed the prince that now stood shocked at the revelation of the king’s dark past. Taehyung breathed slowly out through his nose, the tightened hold on your fingers finally loosening. “Please father,” your voice had softened again. “You say you loved mother, but you made her suffer. If you really love me, let me find happiness. Don’t make the same mistakes again. Our kingdoms have been doing that for far too long.” The king slumped back into his throne, suddenly seeming much less brilliant than it had just months ago, before you had been so exposed to the true light of the world. His knuckles paled as he gripped the arms of the chair for dear life, lost in thought.

...and the crooked-crowned puppet with a stitched smile finally broke free from its strings. The puppet master's control was now nullified and his routines he had performed countless times since its genesis had now come to a close with the red velvet curtains.

The soft brush of lips on your shoulder elicited a soft gasp and the drop of the inky quill from your scribbling hand. As the lips traveled up to your collarbone then to your neck, the girlish giggle that escaped your lips morphed into a satisfied sigh. “Hello, Queen (y/n),” the deep voice rumbled against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Prince Consort Taehyung,” you greeted. He finally pulled away, causing you to frown up at him from the desk chair you were still seated at. Taehyung gave you a warm smile before examining the mess of your desk in front of you. You saw his eyes stop on the paragraphs written in the notebook and his grin widened, happy that his gift was being put to good use. He saw another book propped up with its old cover on display in the corner and he picked it up, examining it in thought. “Why is this out?”

Reaching out for it with a smile, only for him to pull away from your stretched hand, you chuckled, “No reason. Just some reminiscing, I suppose.”

“You’re not still letting this story get you down, are you?” he questioned worriedly, turning his back to you and heading for the wooden bookcase.

You laughed and stood from the chair to follow close behind him before placing your hands on his shoulders and peeking on your tiptoes at the old book that held a different, but still special, meaning to you. “Of course not. My fear of history repeating itself was definitely not what made it my favorite book.”

He gave you one last glance over his shoulder and a smile he was holding back was all too evident in his eyes. “You’ll never have to worry about this happening to you ever again. You know that, right?” He placed the book back in its place on the shelf, then he turned around, snaking his arms around your waist while yours encircled his neck. “I’m not going anywhere.” You squinted at him in distaste for his sudden cheesiness, but still swooned nonetheless. His eyes flicked suddenly just behind you and with a lick of his lips, he retracted his statement. “Actually, I will go somewhere. To that bed. With you.”

He quickly pulled you along with him to where he sat at the edge of the bed and you stood between his legs, looking down at him with the sparkle of newly found happiness in your eyes. He peered up at you in admiration, bringing you even closer to himself with a tug of your hips. “I love you so much, (y/n).”

You trailed your hands up his chest to rest on his cheeks as you lifted his face to press a kiss to his lips, begging for more as soon as you had to pull away. “I love you, too.” Your eyes crinkled in the corners, giddiness swelling within you at the words that you had heard many times by now but still could never get enough of. With a sigh, Taehyung pulls you down on top of him and pulls the blanket over the two of you just after he hears a knock at the door and the voice of one of your ladies-in-waiting calling out for you.

“I’m sorry, but the queen is extremely busy at the moment and will most likely be occupied until the morning. Please come back at a later time,” Taehyung called out in response. Immediately understanding his implications, your face reddened and you slapped his chest with a slack jaw before you buried your face into him to hide, although there was no need to since it was just the two of you in your own little world beneath the sheets. Taehyung’s mouth became boxy once more before intertwining your fingers with his while connecting your lips together in a passionate embrace once more.

You were simply a hollow, breathing breathing body before you had met him, but he was able to introduce you to depth and genuine life. Although it was safe and comfortable, you were sick of the life you had lived, and Taehyung was the one to show you there was more to the world than jealousy of those who roamed it freely. You didn’t think you wanted what he had to offer and it made you scared that he came in and turned everything upside down, for you didn’t know all of it would work towards the better. And yet here you were, smiling like an idiot, wrapped in the warmth of his arms where you finally felt at home.

#bts #taehyung #bts v #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts imagine #taehyung fic #taehyung scenario #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #beyond the scene #starryeyedgukk #fic: all too familiar

[jarienn972]

Curse of Undoings - part three

This third installment isn't as heavy on the whump, although we do still have Killian in chains. There's a huge clue given here about the Black Fairy's plans and we learn that Killian isn't the only one who still has his real memories. Might he have an ally out there?

Tagging @killian-whump @hookaroo @castielamigos for the update

From the beginning: Part 1  Part 2  Also on AO3 and FF.net

With no way to know if it was day or night, Killian had no inclination of how much time had passed. He was aware that he'd blacked out from the pain at least once, but for how long? He knew he couldn't actually sleep as it was impossible to find any comfortable position, which was likely part of the planned torture. Laying on his back wasn't feasible with his skin ripped open and still seeping blood - and probably pus by now. His ribs ached if he tried to lay on his side and laying on his stomach was nearly as agonizing as being on his back when the heavy chain dragged across the raw flesh. Oh yes, this all had to have been the intent, furthering his agony. His throat was dry and scratchy as though he'd swallowed an entire desert but there was no relief in sight. He'd finally resigned himself to sitting upright, knees drawn up and tucked under his chin to give his aching head a place to rest.

He nearly jumped at the sound of the steel door being unlocked, squinting as it was pulled open, not even bothering to disguise his fear of what would await him next. A feminine form appeared in the doorway, but this was not Emma. This time, his unwelcome visitor was Fiona, the Black Fairy herself, attired in a sharp, tailored black pantsuit that in all appearances, was likely purloined from Regina's closet. Her hair was coiffed into a tight, businesslike bun and had Killian been able to speak, he would have asked her if she were here to gloat. She seemed to sense the question anyway, responding with a mocking grin.

"Well, aren't you just a pathetic sight, Captain?" she chuckled as she took a step inside the cell, careful not to get to close to any chains that might scuff her patent leather heels as she held her hands clasped demurely behind her back. "I see Emma did quite a number on you already and I'm sure there will be so much more to come. Such vitriol there…" She paused to have a laugh at the early results of her ministrations. "Oh, I know you'd love to tell me that your True Love will win out, but I wouldn't be so confident of that if I were you. I may have outdone myself with the amount of loathing I instilled in your lovely bride…"

Killian shifted positions, straining against his multiple restraints while growling angrily at the mastermind of this curse.

"Oh, don't bother wasting your energy, Jones," Fiona quipped as she wrapped the manicured fingers of her right hand around the chain tethering his collar and yanked down on it, forcing his head back so he'd have to look directly up at her. "This is so much fun! And as soon as Emma kills you and severs your bond of True Love, I win." She drew her left hand from behind her back and revealed the object she'd been hiding from view – a snow globe containing a tiny castle amidst a forest scene. "You see, all of your fairytale friends are imprisoned here and as soon as Emma acts on all of that hatred towards you, they all vanish. Everything gets undone and then, it becomes my story to re-write as I see fit. All it takes is for Emma to put an end to her True Love and everything is mine...

"Considering the beating she's already given you and your present predicament, it would seem that the memories I implanted in her of you killing her family are proving quite effective. She sees you only as a cold-blooded killer and it will only be a matter of time until she acts on all of her festering anger and hatred. Do try to make yourself comfortable until then, Captain, but I seriously doubt you'll be here much longer."

Fiona released her grip on the chain, allowing it to strike the open sores on his back intentionally as she cackled, exited the cell and locked the door behind her, the echo of the heavy door slamming resonating through his entire body. It did get him thinking about what she'd said though – she needed to destroy True Love to seal her victory. It explained why he'd been kept here in Storybrooke to be the fodder of his suddenly homicidal wife who viewed him only as a murderer. Emma believed her family to have been slaughtered by him yet in truth, they were trapped inside an enchanted snow globe, not unlike the way Jasmine's kingdom of Agrabah had been placed in stasis for centuries when she'd run off to the Land of Untold Stories.

Would there be any way he could get through to Emma? Convince her that he was really her loving husband, not the criminal she believed him to be? Certainly, parts of the fallacy were based in truth, but he'd put that man behind him to make himself worthy of her. His Emma was still in there somewhere, concealed behind all of the Black Fairy's lies. He just had to find a way to reach her before she unwittingly destroyed everything she loved.

Having taken out some of her frustrations on her prisoner, Emma decided to return to the Sheriff station to relax a bit before round two, entering the squad room with a satisfied smile turning up the corners of her lips. While Hook hadn't provided her anything in the way of actual information regarding her parents' murders, she'd enjoyed taking out ten years of aggravations on him. She'd return later to interrogate her prisoner further but at the moment, she had a few other things to attend to, the first of which was locating a clean shirt. She dug into the stash of emergency clothing she kept in her bottom desk drawer after discovering that a splattering of Hook's blood was staining her shirt. Eh, it was a small price to pay to look into a killer's eyes and punish him for his crimes. She didn't think much more of it as she unbuttoned the baby blue blouse and slipped it off, momentarily crouching in her office clad only in a camisole until she found a deep wine hued sweater that she pulled over her head, kicking the drawer closed with her toe as she stood back up.

Had her real memories been intact, she would have realized that the garment she'd just donned was one Killian had given her. He'd enlisted Henry's assistance to acquire it for her after he'd seen her admiring it in a magazine advertisement. The fabric still bore traces of both her perfume and a hint of his cologne from one of their last rendezvous in her office, but now, her cursed self barely recognized the scent. It was just another sweater to her, but it certainly held some familiarity to another person who'd retained his memories, not that anyone was believing him.

"Henry? What are you doing here?" Emma asked as she turned to spot her teenage son lurking in a corner of the squad room.

"I was looking all over for you, Mom," Henry replied. "You didn't come home last night…"

"Sorry, but you know yesterday was a hard day for me… I slept at the old loft…"

"Your wedding day was a hard day?" Henry asked, confused by her odd response. He'd known people were missing from the town, but until now, he wasn't sure what else the curse may have done.

"Wedding? Henry, did you forget to take your meds again? You know quite well that yesterday was the tenth anniversary of your grandparents being murdered…"

"Mom, Grandma and Grandpa aren't dead, I'm sure of it. They're just missing from the curse, you know, like half the town?"

"Okay, kid, now I know for sure that you didn't take your pills this morning. You're having delusions of curses and fairytales again, aren't you?"

"They're not delusions, Mom. You know it's all real…" Henry argued, worried that now that he'd located one of his mothers that he might have even bigger concerns. "It's all here in the book, for now, at least."

"Ugh, Henry, I swear I'm going to take that book away if you keep getting so caught up in fairytales! They're fiction. Happy endings don't exist in the real world, although at least now that I've found Jones, I can finally put one awful chapter behind me - as soon as he's sufficiently punished for what he did."

"You found Killian?" Henry asked both excitedly and a bit timidly.

"Killian? We're calling murderers by their first names now?"

"Murderer? Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Seriously, Henry, you know damned well what I'm talking about! Killian Jones – the vile bastard who massacred your grandparents a decade ago – we finally captured him and he's locked away where he can't hurt anyone ever again."

"Mom, no… That's not true. That's just what the Black Fairy wants you to believe. This is her curse. She wants you to forget the real Killian – to forget that you love him…"

"I think it's time I made you another psychiatric appointment. These fantasies of yours are getting a lot worse. Love him? You must be growing more insane… Look, right now, I want you do go home and take your meds, mister. That's an order. If I find out you didn't, I'll have to force you to take them and you know I don't like to do that…"

"Okay, mom," he conceded defeat. Whatever the Black Fairy had implanted into his mother's head was a lot stronger than he'd imagined. She believed that her True Love had murdered her parents and he could hear the bloodlust for revenge in her voice. "I'll see you at home later," he said as he backed out of the station, his mind swirling with thoughts of where she might have Killian locked away. If he could locate his stepfather, maybe the two of them together could break the curse and foil Fiona's plan, whatever it might be.

Henry scampered out of the Sheriff station, but he didn't exactly go straight home as he'd promised. He headed first to the town park, climbing to the top of the play castle where he'd always liked to come when he needed to think. He tossed his backpack onto the floor as he leaned his back into the slatted wood wall, getting a little more comfortable before opening the pack to retrieve his precious storybook – his family's legacy. Placing the book on the floor of the play castle, he opened it to the center, disturbed to see that even more of the image was deteriorating, portions of it missing. He flipped through several more pages that were also gradually fading away.

Was that what this curse was all about? Undoing all of the stories? Erasing all of the lessons learned? He knew that his grandparents and his other mother were missing, but he didn't think for a moment that they were dead. Half of Storybrooke had gone missing overnight, probably swept away to another realm, but he needed to know why. What was Fiona up to? Why did she need Emma to harbor such hatred toward Killian? No way he could head home just yet. He needed too many answers.

#ouat ff #ouat fan fiction #killian jones ff #killian whump #curse of undoings

[thefactsofthematter]

still with our hearts beating - redfinch

Anonymous said: 11 with RedFinch? (we seriously need better ship names =/ ) ☆

11: “Hush now, it’ll all be over soon.”

-

1.8k; modern au; i’m sorry in advance please don’t sue for emotional distress this was painful to write; tw for uhhh cancer and seizures

-

It's quiet.

Too quiet, if you ask Finch. He's never been one for silence and stillness— waiting makes him antsy, you see. He likes to always be on the move, not sitting quietly for hours and hours.

The only sound in the room right now is Albert's soft breathing as he sleeps, and the occasional quiet clatter of the keys on Finch's laptop as he tries to work his way through proofreading a lab write-up that's due tomorrow.

There's the odd noise out in the hallway, but the door is shut and mostly soundproof, so it's not very bothersome. They've finally managed to get a private room after being on a waiting list for some time, and it's incredibly nice to finally have their own space.

Finch has his feet propped up on the end of Albert's bed while he leans back in the hard plastic chair that the hospital provides, willing himself to actually get his homework done.

It's hard, though. It's really hard to convince himself to do much of anything lately, when every day is so long and exhausting. His schedule at the moment consists of school all morning, work all afternoon, and spending the whole evening in this hospital room, sitting next to Albert's bed and trying to be strong for him.

All he can think of tonight is that they should be planning their wedding right now. The date they'd been planning for is just five months away— they should be looking for suits and picking out flowers and booking a caterer. Not agonizing over what will happen if this round of chemo doesn't work. Not wondering what they'll do if Albert can't get better.

This isn't fair. This isn't fucking fair. They've done nothing to deserve this. They're just two kids, neither of them even twenty-three years old yet, who are so fucking in love. All they want is to be together, happy and safe, but now there's a tumour in Albert's brain and every day is a little bit harder than the one before.

It sucks. It really does.

Finch looks over at Albert and feels the first real smile he's shown all day begin to tug at his lips when he notices his fiancé's eyes start to flutter open.

He sets his laptop off to the side and slides his chair closer to Albert's bed.

"Hi sweetheart," he whispers, gently brushing a loose lock of ginger hair off of Albert's forehead as his eyes open up. The chemo hasn't caused his hair to fall out yet, as they're still quite early on in treatment, so Finch is making sure to touch it and play with it while he still can. "It's nice to see you."

It takes a moment for Albert to really wake up, but he smiles blissfully when his gaze falls on Finch.

"Hi," he mumbles, clearly trying not to let his eyes fall shut again. "You're here."

It's somehow heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, the way Albert gets so excited to see Finch every day. He's been having some memory problems, due to the tumour, so each day is a happy surprise when he wakes up to see his fiancé because he can't necessarily recall if he was there the day before.

"Of course I am," says Finch, softly, still brushing his fingers gently through Albert's hair. "Every day, babe. I missed you."

Albert takes a second to process it, but he eventually laughs softly and reaches up to try and hold Finch's hand. Finch obliges, intertwining their fingers and then letting them rest on the sheets.

"Finch..." Albert trails off, trying to get a sentence together, something he's been having trouble with lately. "Do... um, I— do the cats miss me? 'Cause I miss 'em a lot."

Albert asks this often, nearly every day, and Finch patiently answers him every time.

"Yeah, they do, love," he says, rubbing his thumb on the back of Albert's hand. Their two rescue cats, Katy Purry and Catrick Swayze— named by Albert himself with a handful of help from Race— still remember the spot on the couch that was Albert's favourite, where they would curl up on his lap in the evenings. Finch has left a big, soft blanket in that particular spot and he often catches the cats napping there, like they're waiting for Albert to come home. "I always see them sleeping in your favourite spot."

Albert grins at that and sits up a little higher than the bed already had him propped up. This is a good sign— sitting up on his own tells Finch that he's got a little more energy than usual.

"Tell 'em I'll be home soon, okay?"

There's such a hopeful glint in Albert's eyes that Finch starts to feel a little better himself. Things are bad, sure, but he still has Albert around, which is really all he can ask. And, well, treatment has been going better than they'd expected. He has chemo doses three times a week, radiation therapy every Tuesday, and they're hoping that by the end of the month he'll be able to go in for his first surgery of the three or four required to remove the tumour. It's all going well— as good as it can, at least.

"Alright, I'll tell them as soon as I get home," says Finch, laughing softly. "Say, didn't Race and Spot come by today? How was that?"

Albert takes a second to think before he responds, something that isn't out of the ordinary lately.

It's not like he's lost any intelligence, being sick— it's just that he seems to go about everything a lot more slowly, as his memory tends to fail him sometimes, and it just takes him a lot longer to comprehend what people tell him. When he has time to think and process things, he's nearly just like his old self again.

"Oh yeah," says Albert, who seems a lot more awake now— there's a bit more clarity and less tired confusion in his eyes. He's talking a bit faster and having an easier time stringing words together. "That was fun. Race wanted to put me in a wheelchair and see how fast we could go, but Spot wouldn't let us, and—"

Albert suddenly cuts off, staring at the foot of the bed, his body going tense. He freezes there long enough for Finch to realize that something is definitely wrong.

"Shit," sighs Finch, immediately knowing exactly what's happening. He has to ease his fingers out of Albert's suddenly-vice-like grip and then carefully push his shoulders back to get him lying down in bed. "You're alright sweetheart, try and stay with me."

It's probably useless to talk to him when he's like this, but Finch always tries anyways.

Albert's mouth is still open from being mid-sentence, and his muscles are so tense they're nearly vibrating with the pressure. His wrists and fingers are contorted into uncomfortable-looking positions, and his eyes are open wide, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The seizures come on fast like this, most of the time. He could be totally fine, talking and laughing, but seconds later he'll be tense and shaking. It's sort of terrifying, how quickly things can change.

His mouth twitches a little, and then he yells loudly: an action totally outside of his control. He's not saying anything, not even trying to, there's no semblance of words coming out— he's just yelling, because even his vocal chords are seizing and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

"Hush now," sighs Finch, pushing Albert's hair back yet again. "It'll all be over soon. Hang in there, baby."

He knows Albert can't hear him; he's not at all conscious, despite the fact that his eyes are open. The doctors have said this before, that Albert can't see or hear anything during a seizure, but that won't stop Finch from trying his fucking best to help in any way he can.

Albert yells again, and then it fades into a pained whine as he closes his mouth and clenches his jaw. He looks as if he's fighting against his own body— trying to move but it won't let him.

The whining continues when he starts to slam his head repeatedly against the pillows behind him and his arms and legs begin to jerk and shake. This is the second part of the seizure, where he tenses and relaxes so quickly that he's just stuck convulsing horribly until it eases to a finish, which can take up to several minutes.

Albert's crying now, and there's a bead of drool coming out of his mouth. He's gasping for air in a choking noise that sends shivers down Finch's spine.

Finch isn't sure how long it lasts, but it feels like just as suddenly as it had started, it's coming to an end. Nurses had rushed in partway through, working around Finch to get some oxygen flowing in Albert's nose and to start suctioning away the spit around his mouth. There's monitors attached to Albert's head that send an alert to the nurses when he starts to seize, Finch hadn't even needed to call for them.

"Thank you," he says quietly as they work, the full weight of his exhaustion hitting him like a train, now that Albert is still and everything is calm. He's probably got twenty minutes or so before Albert comes to, and he's genuinely considering fitting in a power nap. "You guys are incredible."

The nurse who isn’t busy getting Albert’s oxygen tubes set up properly in his nose turns to Finch with a gentle smile.

“You’re an amazing husband,” she says, making Finch blush awkwardly at the compliment and not bother to tell her they aren’t married yet. She gestures to Albert as she continues. “He talks about you all the time. I know you’re probably stressed-out about all this, and exhausted, I bet, but you don’t ever let him see that. You’re the best kind of support he could possibly have; it’s really been helping him.”

Finch is so tired that all he can do is nod his thanks. He’s leaning against the side of Albert’s bed, nearly falling asleep, so he hopes that his smile and nod convey just how much he appreciates her words.

The nurses finish up with Albert and turn to head out of the room. That same nurse stops in the doorway, though, and says:

“I just hope you know… you’re doing a really good job. Albert tells me every day, that he thinks Patrick is the best guy in the world. He loves you a lot. Keep hanging in there.”

For the first time in ages, Finch starts to think that everything might turn out okay.

-

Tag list:

@landlessbud

@i-hate-theheadline

@eponinemylove

@i-got-personality

@alovelymoonbeam

@penzyroamin

@graceful-popcorn

#see??? theyre gonna be fine!! #well thats open to interpretation #im kinda hcing that albert doesnt make it #but again #thats up to you #also u maybe asking yourself why ive been using seizures as a plot device in more than one fic and thats simply bc i wana be a neurologist #*wanna #i just think theyre interesting #newsies #albert dasilva #finch newsies #my writing #newsies fic #cancer / #seizures / #illness /

[darlingpetao3]

For Asgard (Chapter 12/?)

Day 30

That's it, you've had it!

If you have to stay put in this room any longer you're going to seriously lose your shit. You've already read all the books this place has to offer, which wasn't a lot to begin with, and they were your best form of escape from here. Now the only things keeping you from tearing your hair out are your small routine walks around the compound and the sporadic, always unpredictable visits from Loki (which, as a joke, you said sometimes made you feel like a mistress).

You can't think of any other way to keep your sanity, so today when Loki comes to see you, you decide to ask him something that's been on your mind for awhile now.

“Loki, I have to ask you a favour.”

“You know I would do anything for you. What is it, my dear?”

“I was wondering...” you begin. He nods, urging your forthcoming request. “Would it be possible to join you in the training? I am so bored and alone and if I have to spend any more time than I need to in this room, I think I'm going explode.”

“I am not sure-”

“Please. Please ask the Other? I need to do something. I'm desperate, here.” Loki sighs in contemplation.

“It pains me to see you so. I will request such on your behalf. But I make no promises on the outcome.”

“Oh thank you, Loki. I don't even have to join in on the scheming portion of it all because I know you think it's unsafe,” you add hastily. “Just, maybe the combat training, is that what he calls it? You know, some physical activity? So I don't waste away and can keep up with you in, well, whatever you're planning on doing?” You can't help but ramble like a fool. After a month of basically doing nothing, the prospect of even physical activity sounds wonderful to you. He leans in for a kiss and hums a small chuckle against your lips.

“I love it when you get excited.”

Well, that just excited you more.

“Oh really?” you say playfully, then give him a peck back.

“Mmm, yes. And I love it when you are so absorbed in a book that you cannot even hear me enter the room.” He now rolls you back onto your bed and runs a hand up your body. A shiver ripples through you.

“And I love it when my name falls from your lips.”

You let out a ragged breath. His hands explore the shape of your (still, unfortunately) clothed body while his mouth is working all kinds of breathtaking, heart-stopping things against yours.

“Loki,” you say.

“Yes, that's right, my darling. Say my name.”

“No, umm, Loki. Stop.”

He pulls back from you looking confused, almost certainly wondering why you asked him to stop doing these magical things to you when you were clearly enjoying it. He follows the flick of your eyes. A guard resembling the same race as the Other stands a few steps within your room. It's time for him to leave again. An annoyed Loki addresses the guard, “I do believe, sir, you have been cursed with atrocious timing.”

Day 35

You never thought you would be this happy to be sweating like a pig.

It's your second day of combat training in the large battle room you had first spotted Loki in almost a month ago. Frankly, you're shocked the Other even agreed to this idea. You had figured he had something against Midgardians or women (or both), but here you were and glad of it.

At first, after receiving the go ahead, you thought you would be training with Loki, but you were sorely mistaken. It was clear the Other still considered you a distraction, no matter what Loki told him otherwise. Instead, your instructor was your pink skinned lady in waiting.

And damn did she have moves.

Yesterday, in particular, was a disaster. A third of the training was hand to hand combat. Pinky, as you called her, amazed you with sheer agility and power behind her fists. Another third consisted of you facing off with her, both using thick wooden staffs. Oh, the blisters! Ow, your sides from getting hit! While you may not be the worst fighter in the history of the universe, there was always room for improvement. The final third of it all was nothing but pure running. You kept having to remind yourself that you signed up for this, but man was it better than pacing your room all day.

Like hell you were going to be Loki's weak link in all of this. You were hell-bent on sticking it to the Other and proving you were one not to be messed with.

Day 97

Nothing but training. Nothing but fighting. Offensive. Defensive. You give it your all every time, every day in your practices. Your dedication is beginning to show in the skills you now possess. As of recently, you have been able to overtake your teacher, Pinky (who still refuses to speak much), not only with just the bow staff you'd been practicing with but also various other weapons.

But if you were being honest, your favourite weapons were your fists.

Hand to hand combat training had been rough going in the beginning, you won't lie. Currently, however, it was a different story. You packed your punches with a resounding energy and precision. That alone proved you were, without a doubt, a force to be reckoned with. A lot of said energy came from a spot in your mind that was starting to grow bigger, to breed annoyance and anger. It feels like you'll never leave this place. You've been here so long, just waiting, and for quite some time now you haven't seen Loki once. Not in passing, not for a visit, and your times together had begun to get rather steamier each time, too (even though you would get interrupted just as things were progressing nicely). You had noticed a change in Loki each visit before his sudden disappearance. He seemed increasingly... fierce. His confidence was through the roof (even more so, that is). He was more passionate.

And sexy.

But for the last several weeks he hasn't been to see you. He's nowhere to be found.

He wouldn't leave you, right?

Don't think like that, you scold yourself. He wouldn't leave me.

Presently, you are laying on your bed in your chambers that you've come to know so well, exhausted from today's earlier training session. Looking to relieve a little extra built up tension, you guide your hand below the waistband of your training shorts. You and Loki had yet to do the deed, although having gotten close a couple times before his appearances were scarce. Lately, all you've had was your hand and an image in your head. Well, images.

Eyes closed you tease yourself with your fingers, squirming in pleasure, pretending they're his.

“Ahh, Loki,” you breathe out.

Then you hear the sound of lips smacking.

“Yes, my darling?”

Startled, your eyes open wide and your whole self bolts upright. You think you must look like a deer caught in headlights right about now. There he stands at the side of your bed, with an expression blended of delighted surprise and arousal. How did you not hear him come in? Were you too caught up in your fantasies that you blocked out all surrounding sounds? Or was this a sneak tactic Loki had learned in training?

Though none of that really seemed to matter. The fact was that the man who you almost thought had disappeared on you, was watching you with your hand down your pants thinking of him!

“Loki!” your voice hitting an embarrassed decibel. “How- Wha-”

“Would you like some help with that?”

The only thing your body will let you do in this moment is nod. He moves onto the bed and straddles your legs, which are feeling incredibly weak and wobbly. Loki lays you back, your head meeting and sinking into the plush pillow under you. His kisses are fervent and it's driving you mad with lust. Your hands lead a mind of their own as they attempt to shed his garments, fumbling. Loki must sense the urgency in the air, as he helps speed up the process. Then he attends to every wretched piece of your clothes and throws them on the ground, as they have no business here.

Time freezes when he drinks in the sight of your now naked body. And you definitely noticed his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Valhalla above, you are gorgeous,” he says as if nothing truer had ever been spoken.

His bare chest hovers just above you, radiating heat and you lift your head up to taste him again. You breathe shakily against his lips. A few of his raven-black strands fall and tickle the sides of your face. It's glorious. You feel like you're going to need to hold on for dear life and your hand meets his bicep, now much more impressive due to his training. He lingers for a few seconds over your breasts before giving them careful and due attention with his mouth, tongue twirling, teeth pinching. You cannot contain your moans, and that's quite alright because they seem to add fuel to Loki's growing beastly intent.

Loki slides further down your body until only his smirking face can be seen between your legs. You know where you want him to go next, and you know he knows. But because it's Loki, he's going to take his sweet, agonizing time. Grabbing a hold of your thigh, he plants more needy kisses heading up and up and up...

“Loki, please,” you whine. “Just take me now.”

Had you blinked, you would have missed the flash in his eyes when they met yours. The flash that sends him into a carnal spiral.

Readily and obediently, Loki unclothes his impressive, erect member from his black leather trousers and enters you with a tight heat burning inside you. A gasp escapes you followed by a heavy, unsteady exhale. Your hands slide down his ass, pushing his trousers further down his body. He repeatedly thrusts into you at a steady pace after you have grown accustomed to his great length, and oh dear god above you. His noises fill your ears and only serve to heighten your arousal.

“I'm almost there,” you say raggedly, surprised at yourself for even being able to form words of any kind at this point.

“Come for me, darling,” he commands and continues to grind himself into you, but at a quicker rate, hungrier. Wilder. It's there in his eyes.

Then screams. Yells of passion. White light, and finally, release.

The only sounds that remain in your chambers are those of panting. You let out a breath and officially forget how to speak.

“I- That- Just- Ahh.”

“You have taken the words straight from my mouth, darling.” You laugh. His eyes have softened now, no longer holding that untamed look in them. He has calmed, and so you nestle yourself into him.

“When will we ever leave?” Loki is quiet for a moment.

“I am... not certain.” Another pause between you.

'You've changed a bit, you know?”

“I know,” he admits. “I had to change, slightly. For him.”

“How is this going to go down on Earth?” you ask, looking up at him. He plays with your hair. “I know you can't tell me anything, but can you please tell me we're going to be fine?”

“Let me tell you something now because I love you and you deserve to know some truth. The things I may do, the things I will do on Midgard, will be to benefit the both of us. My actions may be dangerous and sometimes you may even question my logic and my sanity. But I promise always, always to keep you safe from harm. Even though I have come to realize you are already wickedly skillful in your own right.”

His words both comfort and keep you on edge at the same time. Loki does seem the sort to be unpredictable, especially as of late. You wonder what kind of actions he's capable of committing in the near future, but you try to repress such a thought. For now.

“You haven't even seen half of how badass I am now,” you mention with mirth. “I can disarm Pinky and have her on the ground in front of me yelling for mercy. Yelling, Loki! Pinky!”

Loki looks proud. You've come a long way, both of you. And the fact that you've stayed with him thus far through everything? It must mean the worlds to him. You know it's the case for yourself. He repositions himself onto his elbow.

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“You could always show me,” you say invitingly.

Part 13

Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato , @theloneavenger1995, @magellan-88

[btsxyou]

Just Friends, Right? [M]

Anonymous said: FRIENDS W BENEFITS WITH YOONGI OR JIMIN OR BOTH PLEZ

Note: So theres gonna be another part to this btw, and I’m going to hell for this one i’m sure - I seriously need to finish it?

Warnings: S M U T, dirty talk, language probably

“Jimin, don’t, please.” You begged.  

The orange haired boy sat across from you, his chin resting in his palm, his eyes resting on your lips. 

“Don’t what?” He asked slouching back in the chair, smirk on his lips.

“You know exactly what you’re doing… this is not the time nor place.  You’re supposed to be helping me study for this test.”

You had both been sitting in a cafe for the past two hours going over outlines and slides from past several weeks of classes trying to prepare for the next exam. Only two more months of school left before summer break, and only two more of these god awful exams to go through.

“Here, read the notes that I took and see if they explain anything.  I’m gonna go talk to Tae.”

Your eyes widened at the mention of his name.  Your hands scrambled for the notebook Jimin was handing you as he walked away behind you.

You remember how you and Taehyung left things with each other.  He had really liked you, and you really liked him, but you couldn’t manage to shake the feelings you had for Jimin.  Although neither of you were anything more than friends, your curiosity with one another led to you both knowing each other more than you ever thought you would. Friends, the benefits of that being having his adorable face around all the time, a shoulder to cry on, someone to make you laugh, and also rushed handjobs in public bathrooms and sex every other week. Can’t forget about the last two.

You looked over Jimin’s notes, trying to find further explanations of the material.  You couldn’t focus though, bits and pieces of their conversation hit your ears, somehow Taehyung’s deep voice reaching you a lot easier than Jimin’s.  The whole interaction was making you feel so empty inside.

You really wanted to be able to have a relationship with someone who liked you, but there was nothing romantic between you and Jimin whatsoever. You couldn’t break what you had with him.  There was something between both of you that was unmatched to anything you’ve ever had with anyone. Any time you even considered going out with a guy you felt so guilty.  Jimin never left your mind.

You definitely weren’t the only girl that he messed around with, but you were his favorite.  He knew everything about you. He could read you like a book which made being in bed with him fun, he always knew what you wanted, but sometimes made everything else harder.

“I would invite you to sit with us, but we are studying for an exam.  Maybe next time…” You heard Jimin’s voice say from behind you. You breathed a sigh of relief. The boys said their goodbyes, and Jimin came back to join you.

“I think I’m all studied out for today…” You say as Jimin sits down in the metal chair.

“Please say you’re not too tired.” He said, one eyebrow raised, biting at his bottom lip.

You could feel your expression soften.  You wanted to just go home, maybe watch some tv, study a little more… not spend the evening with Jimin, his lips attacking your neck, his hands wandering…  no no no, stop. What were you doing? You’re being pulled in again by the way he looks at you, not being able to shake the image of Jimin’s soft hands snaking all over your body, ugh.

You want to stop thinking about what he does to you, how he makes you feel but you can’t. His hold over you was so deep, that he had you breathing so shallow and shaky just sitting in a chair in a cafe.

You gather your books and notebook and stuff them into your bag, trying to not appear as flustered as you really were.  Making your way out of the cafe, Jimin wrapped his arm around your waist, his lips brushing up against your hair.

“Don’t forget that I know you.  You think your face says nothing, but it says everything. Don’t worry, you’ll be naked within five minutes of walking through your front door.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, your face burning against the cold winter air. The butterflies started, getting progressively worse with each step towards your apartment.

The walk felt like it took five years, your heart was racing, trying not to show how badly your hands were shaking while you unlocked your front door.

Stepping inside, Jimin’s hand traced up your back, then to your shoulder, shoving your bag off and to the floor.  Shocked, you turn to face him, his brown eyes full of lust, or something else like it.  They looked over your face before making their way across the rest of you.

“Did you think I was joking?  I’ve been staring at your lips all day.  I just really want to hear all the pretty moans that come out of them.” His hand reached up to cup your chin, thumb running across your bottom lip before sliding into your open mouth.

You stared at him with wide eyes before gathering the courage to trace it with your tongue. He let out a small gasp, teeth raking against his bottom lip.

Jimin loved more than anything for you to completely dominate him.  He always looked as if he was going to leave you begging, crying for more but it was always the other way around.  He could read you like a book, but to you, he was a doll, nothing but putty in your skilled hands.  He knew what to say, what little things to do to get you worked up, face burning in public places until he could get you alone. It was his plan, he knew that if he accomplished those things, then he could have you, all of you.

See, he loved to have you screaming, clawing at the sheets or couch or his skin even, wherever you may be, but he also loved when you teased him, stroking his hardness, lips close, so close to being wrapped around him, only to pull away.  All the hope in his face diminishing with an agonized moan. And thats how you loved him.

Because you knew, although you told yourself not to think about it much, out of all the girls he chose to sleep with, you were the only one who could make him feel that specific way. You never wanted him to forget that.  Every romp in the sack with him was some type of desperate struggle to wash away any afterthought of the past girl, and replace her face with yours, her name with yours. After all, any time you spent with a man other than him, you pictured his face, every moan a constant conscious struggle of not saying his name.

So you knew. As if almost a reflex, reaching forward to his belt, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping.  Him pushing you backwards towards your bedroom, your lips locked in a deep kiss. The only sounds surrounding you were those of heavy breathing, shuffled feet, and the clink of his belt buckle.

Once reaching the bedroom, you managed to get him on the bed, fully removing his jeans, his shirt, but leaving all of your clothes on.  Looking down at his hardness, so desperately wanting to be freed, you couldn’t help but want to lick your lips.

With one finger, you traced the shape of his bulge, ragged breathing leaving his lips. You tucked a finger under the elastic of his underwear, pulling the thin fabric down.

“I know what you think of when you stare at my lips, Jimin.” You moaned his name.  “You want me to suck you off, right? Is that what you want? Thats what you always want, I know. And I do it, despite knowing where you’ve been.”

He moaned a little, but his face looked sad.  It was true though, he must remember.

Taking ahold of his length, you pumped him a few times before lowering your mouth to lick the underside of his cock from base to tip.  You stopped once you reached the tip, tongue reaching under the sensitive folds of his head before wrapping your mouth around him completely. Pulling away, you heard him groan above you.

“Should I keep going? I mean, I really do just want to hear all of the pretty moans come out of your mouth.” You said to him, repeating what he had said to you just moments before.  He nodded, eyes begging. So you started again.

You listened to the soft breathy moans escape his mouth, your own mouth doing exactly what he loved. Twisting, swirling, sucking, licking, squeezing him. Your mouth slowly reached the tip again, this time taking your time to dip your tongue into the slit, guaranteeing you a loud moan from him.

After repeating that a few more times, you added your other hand, the one that wasn’t already pumping him mercilessly, to cup his balls, squeezing slightly. His thighs began to shake, and you noticed his stomach muscles tightening above you.

“Y/N,” he moaned, “Please, please. I don’t want to cum in your mouth.” The sentenced came out broken, all in separate breaths.  

You obeyed him, although you wanted to keep going.  Seeing him so vulnerable made you happy, it made you feel strong, because you had a hold on him, just like he had on you, and you didn’t feel so weak for wanting him.

He took a few seconds to catch his breath before pulling you onto the bed with him, removing your clothes at a record pace. His hands wandered over your body, squeezing your breasts, your ass, one hand making its way between your legs.

“What’s this?” He asked against your lips, his hand feeling your wetness.

“It’s how I feel about sucking your cock, hearing you say my name defenselessly.”

“Well, now it’s turn for you to say my name.”

His fingers massaged your clit, kissing you passionately. He replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock, massaging in circles before sliding it along your folds, wetting it with your juices.

His lips left yours, eyes looking for permission before sliding inside of you.  He closed his eyes, adjusting to the feeling after being pleasured so deeply just shortly before.

His hips soon found the perfect pace, knowing exactly which ways to move.  Thrusting inside of you, swirling his hips ever so slightly, picking up a leg to throw over his shoulder to reach you deeper.

His thumb moved to massage your clit once more, the mixture of him pounding deeply inside of you and the gentle force on your sensitive nub were beginning to feel overwhelming.

You said his name innocently in between directionless moans, your voice getting louder each time.  The pace in his thrusts was wavering, and you knew you weren’t the only one reaching that paradise of electrical shocks and churning muscles.

He rubbed your clit a little faster, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, and finally pushing you over, saying his name in half-moans and half-squeals, gasping for air.  With a few groans he came also, both of your faces sharing the same painful pleasure, filled with the same aching bliss.

He kissed you deeply once more before pulling out of you, and walking to your bathroom.  You laid there silently, trying to catch your breath and will away feelings.

It wasn’t like you, but lately you had been getting more and more emotional with each round.  There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to tell him.

Lost in your thoughts you barely noticed him handing you a towel to clean yourself up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just zoned out I guess.” You shook your head a little, trying to shake the feelings you were having.  If he could read you so well, then why didn’t he understand?

The two of you spent the rest of the evening together, studying for the exam, laughing, being just friends. That’s all it’ll be, right?

#jimin smut #bts smut #jimin scenarios #btsxyou days of the week #jimin day

[words-in-my-veins]

Ok so here, finally, is my post about the Writer’s Digest Workshop I went to back in February. Under the cut for length.

The quick rundown: It was an all-day event, with 5 sessions total and 3 classes running during each session to choose from. Chuck Sambuchino from Writer’s Digest was there, and he ran several of the classes himself. You could also sign up for small blocks of time to meet with agents to pitch your work or get the first 10 pages of your manuscript critiqued by an editor. There were probably about 150 attendees.

The first class I went to was “An Overview of Your Publishing Options Today.” This was basically traditional publishing vs. self-publishing and the pros and cons of both. Chuck led this class and he’s a lot of fun to listen to—funny, opinionated, and of course extremely knowledgeable in how the publishing world works.

Chuck also taught the second class I went to, “Everything You Need to Know About Agents and Queries.” This class was a big one for me since I’m about at the point where I’ll be querying my manuscript soon. There was a lot of good info about what to put in queries and what not to put in. Queries still seem so daunting to me—like, I have to what? Summarize my entire novel in just a few sentences while making it sound interesting to someone who slogs through countless queries every day? Yikes. But I do feel more prepared to do that after attending the class.

Then we broke for lunch on our own, and after lunch I realized one of my friends was there which was really cool because I had no idea she was going! She’s writing a thriller (I mostly write fantasy).

After lunch we went to a class called “Writers Got Talent,” in which you could submit the first page of your manuscript to be read aloud (anonymously) and a panel of agents would give their first impressions. I did not submit my first page because I probably would have had a panic attack if it got read in front of like 100 people, haha. Some of the critiques were pretty brutal—the agents definitely didn’t hold back. It was interesting to see what drew them into a first page and what made them stop reading.

The fourth class I went to was “Talking Fantasy and Science Fiction.” Honestly I wish I’d picked a different class for this session just because I already knew everything being reviewed. It would have been a good class for people just starting in the SFF genres but I’ve written fantasy since I was a kid so I’d already learned all the instructor’s tips myself over the years. We did briefly cover pitching SFF specifically so that part was helpful to me.

The last class of the day I went to was “Talking Craft and Revision.” Like the fourth session, I wish I’d gone to another class here… It was again full of stuff I already knew. Still some good info, but I wish I’d gone to the class about marketing yourself instead. I probably would have gotten more out of that one at this point.

And now for the best part! In addition to the classes, I signed up for one pitch session with an agent, and I also had an editor read the first 10 pages of my manuscript.

I was extremely nervous for my pitch. I almost didn’t even sign up for a pitch because it seemed so daunting. I had a basic pitch planned out ahead of time with some random notes, but I always think the story sounds so dumb when I try to summarize it so I was kind of freaking out. But to my surprise, it went so well. I told the agent (Kaylee Davis of Dee Mura Literary) that I was nervous because it was my first pitch and she was so nice. She told me not to worry and that we could just chat, and she asked if I had any questions. Of course I had a list so I started with my big one—I’m having such a hard time deciding whether to label my manuscript as young adult or adult because it has elements of both. I have been leaning more toward adult but I don’t want to potentially cut off a whole group of readers that the book would definitely be appropriate for, you know? If I had my way, I would call it new adult, but Kaylee told me new adult is more of a romance label at this point. (Man, I would love to spearpoint the new adult subgenre for fantasy, you know? ha) So we had a good discussion about young adult vs. new adult vs. adult, and Kaylee said my MS could be “young adult with crossover potential”—basically something aimed for young adult but 18+ would enjoy it too. Obviously Kaylee hasn’t read my MS so she had to go off what I told her but I think that sounds right! I was seriously agonizing over this so her opinion was very much appreciated.

But that’s not all—after that discussion, we only had 2 minutes left (you sign up for 10-minute pitch sessions), so I was afraid I wouldn’t have time to actually give my pitch, but Kaylee said to go ahead and pitch, so I did (we went overtime a little—probably close to 15 minutes). I still think I sounded kind of dumb but I was at least trying to be enthusiastic. She loved the title of my book and said it drew her interest right away. And then… guys… SHE ASKED ME TO SEND IT TO HER! I managed to actually make the book sound interesting and unique enough that an agent asked me to send it to her! To say I was on cloud 9 would be a serious understatement. She said not to rush, the offer never expires, so I should wait until I’m confident enough with it to send it. I’m hoping to get it sent out this month!

So my pitch session was in the morning, and in the afternoon I had a session with SFF editor Lyda Morehouse. She’d read the first 10 pages in advance so she already had notes and everything ready for the meeting. I was nervous about this session too—here’s an editor who actually read the beginning of my book. These agents & editors were there to give us the truth, not protect our feelings, and I knew I might be on the verge of getting torn apart.

BUT SHE LIKED IT A LOT! Like, I could hardly believe some of the things she said because they seemed too good to be true, you know? The beginning of her critique said: “This is a lot of fun. The tone of this piece has all the markings of a successful commercial novel, IMHO.” Probably my favorite thing she said was that she ships my main characters—all according to plan! haha. She said my FMC is relatable and likable. She said—and I quote—“Your dialogue is not only very natural-sounding, but it’s clever and snappy and adds strength to your character’s characterization.” LIKE HOLY CRAP THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY. I’ve always thought dialogue was my strong point so I love getting some validation on that by an actual editor.

Of course there are things I have to work on as well—particularly descriptions, which I’ve always known is my weak point as a writer, and Lyda pointed out a few places that need more description. I was also trying to make my FMC more on the unemotional side at the very beginning, but apparently that wasn’t quite working for Lyda (and for another writer friend who read my MS and said the same thing, actually), so I have to find somewhere to put the beginning of her emotional arc right at the start. But she said I’m “very close” so I think that’s pretty huge.

I think the best thing I was able to take away from the workshop as a whole and from meeting with an agent and an editor is that I legitimately am on track with this writing thing. All my friends and family always tell me my writing is great, but of course they’re going to say that—they’re my friends and family! If it sucked on the whole, they’d feel too bad to say so. The agents aren’t going to sugarcoat anything, though. I have some things to work on but for the most part, I’m on the right track, and I’ve gotta say that puts one of my worst fears at rest—I don’t actually suck. Hooray! (Considering writing is the only thing I’m good at, and the only thing I really care about, that was a gigantic relief. haha)

Well, this was way longer than I meant it to be, whoops. My advice—if you’re serious about writing and you get the opportunity to go to a Writer’s Digest workshop, GO! I learned a lot, met some other writers in my area, and had tons of fun. I would absolutely do it again.

#writing #writers digest workshop #writer things

[ciathyzareposts]

The Black Gate: Open Your Eyes

Having woken up after 200 years, Penumbra really needs to hit the head.

          We leave the troubled Vesper behind us–planning to return once we have the “Unlock Magic” spell and some more money–and head east across the channel. It has been long enough since I played an Ultima that I have forgotten the specific configuration of the islands that house Moonglow, the Lycaeum, the Shrine of Honesty, and the Dungeon Deceit, so I decide to start at the top (which turns out to be Dagger Isle) and work my way down.

          Piling into a cave.

           We land on the island, between the Shrine of Compassion and a small mountain range on the island’s southern tip. As we enter, I realize two things for the first time. First, the dungeons actually exist on the same scale as the outdoor maps, and on the same plane. Previously, I was thinking that we were transitioning to different areas, but now I realize that when we entered the dungeon above Cove, for instance, the corridors wrapped around to the east and south in a perfect imitation of the mountain range that houses them. This is an interesting approach, but it means that the developers were far more constrained in the shape and size of their dungeons than when dungeons were on the -1 plane. I can’t help but woner why they did it this way. Second, the game wastes no space, housing a dungeon in every mountain range–at least, every one I’ve seen so far.

           Punny gravestones have long been a specialty of the series.

           The small range south of the shrine turns out to have a little cemetery. The gravestones have Ultima‘s usual mixture of the goofy and the sentimental:

      Here lies Argent, died a sergeant.

Targ, a worthy opponent.

Lynn. She had the grace of a swan.

Here lies Mystral. Shined like a crystal.

Rover. Man’s best friend, over and over.

Felcore. Age-old love never dies.

              At the end of the corridor is a grate with a sign that says “pauper’s grave.” Opening the grate reveals a gruesome collection of skeletons. 

           I don’t know what I expected.

          North of the cave, we find the Shrine of Honesty, which is in good shape. Based on what we’d heard in Cove, I expected to find the shrines in dilapidation and disrepair, but this one was clear of debris and eve had a little bell on the altar. (Double-clicking it caused it to ring.) As usual in this game, double-clicking on the altar does nothing, which was a bit disappointing.

             The Shrine of Honesty looks like someone is taking care of it.

           North of the shrine, we enter the Dungeon Deceit. Our explorations are drawn up short by a magically-locked door just a little way down the corridor. We make a note to return later.

      We return to the carpet and ride it south to Verity Isle, landing at the northern tip, next to a large building. A plaque on the ground invites us to “hammer here to enter,” but we lack a hammer, so we continue south into Moonglow. During our explorations of the city, several characters remark that Moonglow and the Lycaeum have “merged” over the last 200 years. But it isn’t so much that as that Moonglow has spread out. Where once “Moonglow” was six buildings clustered in the south end of the island, now it’s the same six buildings all over the island. The island has changed shape, too, now further east than it was before, its various peninsulas shortened and blunted, making the island look fatter.

            Thanks for sharing, Shamino.

           The two-story Lycaeum is in roughly the same place. It’s run by Nelson and his assistant Zelda. Zelda is in love with Nelson’s twin brother, Brion, who runs the observatory, while Nelson pines for Zelda. In my conversations with them, Brion said he was too busy for love, so I convinced Zelda to accept Nelson as a “second best.”

          You might, you know, not call him that.

         A scholar named Jillian increases intelligence and magic. She’s married to Effram, a stay-at-home father to baby Mikhail, and he’s angry about it. 

           Does divorce exist in Britannia? I don’t believe anyone is ever described as somebody’s ex-spouse.

         Mariah is in the Lycaeum, addled like all the other mages, though not too addled to sell spells and reagents. She doesn’t recognize me and keeps complimenting the furnishings of the building. 

         Is this supposed to be some kind of hint?

         The Lycaeum has so many books that I begin to seriously regret my “Books of Britannia” entry, but I update it with all of them. Some highlights:

The book The Complete History of the Lute has a foreword by Iolo in which his last name is given as “Arbalest.” This contradicts the material for the last couple of games which give his last name as “FitzOwen.” On the other hand, an arbalest is a type of crossbow, so perhaps it’s meant more of a sobriquet than a last name.

            It occurs to me it’s been a long time since we heard the “master bard” play anything.

           Nicodemus’s Pathways of Planar Travel notes that while so far, all visitors to Britannia from other planes (like Lord British and the Avatar) have been benevolent, we must consider the possibility of a malevolent entity coming through. This naturally foreshadows the plot of this game. 

A Short Treatise on Britannian Society by someone named Clayton is an obnoxious book that suggests a natural social order, starting with Lord British and moving to the Great Council. Interestingly, the book puts winged gargoyles next in the social order, followed by the Britannian masses, followed by wingless gargoyles. 

Landships of War suggests using the tactic of firing missile weapons from carts at enemies, since the same enemies cannot climb up on the cart to reach you. This works with the magic carpet, too.

A History of Stonegate suggests that the former Shadowlords’ keep passed from the cyclops family to some wingless gargoyles before Lord Venelon of Jhelom evicted the gargoyles and kept the keep in his family for a few generations before it was destroyed by a natural disaster. It’s now a swampland inhabited by trolls and an ancient wizard. It makes me curious to visit.

Apparently, Spark’s father, the man whose murder kicked off my quest, authored a book: The Blacksmith’s Handbook.

The Forest of Yew gives a hint about the furry Emps living there.

                 As for the rest of Moonglow, there’s a Fellowship Hall run by Rankin. Carlyn runs Carlyn’s Clothes. Chad, a weapons trainer, increases dexterity and combat. Phearcy, the bartender at the Friendly Knave, has gossip about everyone. There’s a farm owned by two brothers: Tolemac and Cobalt. They have a farmhand named Morz. Tolemac is enchanted by the Fellowship while Cobalt hates it; he thinks it’s a perversion of the eight virtues. I am unable to convince Tolemac to abandon it, but I am able to convince Morz not to join. Morz has a stutter, the result of falling off a wagon as a toddler. He doesn’t like to talk about it. I thought there would be some quest related to this, but nothing developed.

        Ultima VII offers the meanest dialogue option in any game so far in my chronology, perhaps ever.

         There’s a dock to the south of town. Crates left on the docks have stacks of reference books, presumably for the Lycaeum. There’s no shipwright or dockmaster to ask about the Crown Jewel.

       Earlier, when I clicked on a cat, my party started yelling things like “Here, Kitty!” and playing with it. So when I see a fox gamboling about, south of the Lycaeum, I think I’ll see what they do when I click on him. To my surprise, he starts talking. He introduces himself as Frank. Frank has come to mistake bluntness for honesty, and he manages to insult all of us before I kill the conversation. No explanation is given for the episode, but my head canon is that it’s somehow Chuckles.

             Shamino, I think killing a small animal for insulting you would rather be proving his point.

           Brion runs the two-story observatory in the northeast of the island. He has a telescope which can be used to scan the entire world. Moving east from Verity Isle takes you across the ocean . . . and then wraps around to Skara Brae. So the idea that Britannia is flat existed for only one game–Ultima VI–and even there it was subverted by the fact that sailing a balloon does cause you to wrap around, once you cross the void. That opens the question: if the world doesn’t have an “other side,” where did the gargoyles come from?

           Skara Brae looks in bad shape.

        Meanwhile, Brion’s orrery clearly shows every planet in the system–nine of them–to be round. On the other hand, Brion’s orrery also shows the nine planets in orbit around a blue orb while the yellow sun just sits there above all the planets’ orbits. So, really, I give up trying to understand the geography or astronomy of Britannia. 

          How is the orb in the middle blue? What does that even mean?

           I can’t actually see the real orrery yet–it’s in a second building that requires a casting of “Telekinesis” to enter–but Brion gives me a viewer that I can use to observe it at any time. (I have to run a quick side quest to purchase a crystal from a traveling peddler at the tavern.) Brion is excited about an upcoming alignment of the planets. 

After talking with everyone in town, I don’t feel that anyone has lied to me, but I decide to go with Elad the Healer as the most honest person in town. First of all, and I know this doesn’t deal with honesty specifically, Elad is just a nice guy. He lets a random traveler from out of town stay with him. When you ask him about the other people in town, his descriptions are charitable, not blunt or gossipy. Elad is struggling with his own ethical dilemma. He wants to see the world and partake in adventures–he even suggests joining the party at one point–but he feels a duty to Moonglow, and he hates the idea of leaving them without a healer. (Note that this is the same choice Jaana faced, but she didn’t even agonize about it. She just ran out the door with the party, leaving two injured patients behind.) Choosing duty is perhaps more reflective of honor than honesty, but honesty is a part of honor, and I like that he’s truthful to himself (and a stranger) about his motivations and inhibitions. I slip the rune into his desk drawer as we leave.

              I designate this “surplaying.”

         The most important resident of Verity Isle turns out to be Penumbra, the gypsy mage who told our futures in Ultima VI. Several residents of Moonglow remark that she put herself to sleep 200 years ago, and that supposedly only the Avatar can awaken her. It’s her house with the plaque outside the front door calling for a hammer.

The hammer turns out to be the first piece of a treasure hunt that will take us through a lockpick, a golden ring, a spool of thread, and a gold piece before the plaque finally disappears to reveal the key to the front door. These items are all found around town, and while at first I feel bad for taking them, no one objects (not even the owners), and the items are placed oddly, as if they only exist for the purpose of the treasure hunt and not as actual personal property of the residents. As each new item is brought to the plaque, it asks for the next one. The statements are perhaps meant to be cryptic (“Pick item carefully to keep going”; “Grasp not at threads”), but if you interpret them literally, it all works out.

We enter the building and, sure enough, find Penumbra asleep on a stone slab. An orange “awaken” potion is on an adjacent table, so we feed it to her and she perks right up. She’s happy to see me for about 15 seconds before she starts clutching her head and screaming in pain; clearly, the issue affecting other mages is affecting her as well. She says she needs some kind of “barrier.” The only impenetrable substance I can think of is blackrock. She says yes, yes, please go find four pieces.

           Why didn’t you put yourself to sleep in the comfortable bed in the next room?

           The only blackrock I’ve seen so far is one piece in the Vesper mines, although I suppose there could be more pieces behind that magically-locked door. I return to Mariah, and while she has the “Unlock Magic” spell that I need, she doesn’t have the blood moss or sulfurous ash that I need to cast it. Buying the spell from her takes up all my remaining gold anyway. Thus, the party hops back on the magic carpet and heads for Britain, first to sell our accumulated gold nuggets to mint, and second to see if Nystul has the needed reagents.

            Having to buy things via the conversation system is a little awkward.

        The mint gives me 190 gold pieces for my nuggets, and Nystul takes half of it for 5 of each reagent. We float back to the Vesper mines and Gideon casts the spell on the door. Fortunately, not only do we get the piece of blackrock we could see from the outside, but a barrel has three more pieces–exactly what we need.

           Nice!

          We return to Penumbra, who has put herself back to sleep, and arrange the four pieces of blackrock on convenient pedestals around her room. Another orange potion (she has a second in her laboratory) wakes her up. She’s feeling much better. She does some magical scrying and determines that the source of the problem is some kind of tetrahedron-shaped magic generator in the Dungeon Deceit, which is damaging the magical ether. She says I can destroy it with the Ethereal Ring, which is in the possession of the gargoyle king, Draxinusom, in Terfin.

            A player might be forgiven for thinking that this is the main quest of the game, even.

          I have to see Draxinusom anyway, so a trip to Terfin doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, but we decide to go to Jhelom first. Following the revelation that the world is round (or at least that it wraps again), Jhelom is just a bit to the east and south.  

But the party needs gold more than anything, which is why I’ve been trying to explore the dungeons that go with each city. It occurs to me that I haven’t explored the one that goes with Britain: Despise. You’ll recall that I briefly walked into the dungeon that the game said was Despise when I got the magic carpet, but that was Shame. Real Despise should be elsewhere in the Serpent’s Spine.

As I sailed to Britain from the west, I happened to notice a dungeon entrance just to the west of the city and decided to check it out. It wasn’t Despise, but it had some interesting encounters with gazers and gremlins. Gazers have legs in this game, making them look a bit like giant spiders, and they completely disappear when killed. Gremlins make up for stealing your food in the previous games by dropping lots of food here. I find a couple of Potions of Healing and Cure Poison in a corner, which come in handy when we’re attacked by actual giant spiders further along. A battle with rats caps the experience. The dungeon offers no wealth. I find myself longing for the days when all enemies dropped a bit of gold and you could sell used weapons and armor.

         Giant spiders in real life would send me running for the hills.

          The entrance to real Despise is north of Lord British’s castle. We walk in and immediately find a corpse with a stack of gold and some swamp boots, so things are looking up already. A switch opens an early set of double-doors, and a key from the corpse opens a second door. A third one remains stubbornly locked. A fourth and fifth require “Unlock Magic,” but between them I find a bag of reagents and the key to the third door.

          Lots of locked doors in this dungeon.

        A fight with a troll nets us some modest money, a serpent shield, a magic shield, and a lot of food. In a hallway, we run afoul of some caltrops. They suck because although you can move them, you can’t get rid of them entirely. The best you can do is pile them in some out-of-way corner and hope no party member bumbles there.

In continued explorations, we fight giant spiders, scorpions, and skeletons. We find more swamp boots and “love arrows,” which I have no idea what to do with. A mage appears in a room full of traps and attacks, but we kill him. He has an invisible chest that includes a set of plate armor and a lightning whip. Ultimately, we get trapped behind some switch-activated doors that reset (with the switches on the other side) after we pass them. I use the Orb of Moons to escape, and we find ourselves on Verity Isle again, but just jumping back into the moongate takes us to Britain, which works out.

         Looting the Dungeon Despise. All those crates and no gold bars.

         Miscellaneous notes:

          If people are sleeping when you want to talk to them, trampling on their beds seems to get them up. Although they scream at you for bothering them, they don’t have any trouble engaging in regular dialogue.

A crystal ball in Brion’s place is fixed on some bedroom in some building that looks like a fortress, although it seems to have a swimming pool or bath within it. Brion may not have time for love, but he clearly has time for voyeurism. 

Somehow, the Avatar got half a dozen bottles of ale in his inventory. I don’t remember anything happening that would explain that.

Normally, when you drop an item on the middle of a character’s portrait, the game shunts the item to the slot in which it best fits–a weapon to the hand, for instance, and a helm to the head. But dropping armor on Jaana’s portrait causes it to go to her left hand. She’s been holding her armor the entire game until I happened to notice it.

When you encountered people in sick beds in previous Ultimas, you could usually talk with them and ask them about their injuries. Every time you run into a wounded person in a healer’s place here, he just moans in pain.

             Your counterparts in Ultima V were more interesting.

            You can turn on the mining machines by double-clicking on them. One in the Vesper mines produced endless pieces of lead ore. I wonder if you can take the ore to a blacksmith’s shop and smelt it. That’s the kind of thing that you would be able to do in this game.

Would it be asking for too much for the potions to say the color when you click on them, instead of just “potion”? I had to call Irene into my office twice so I wouldn’t accidentally poison Penumbra.

My party members keep complaining about being tired (in addition to being hungry) except that the “tired” icon isn’t showing on their character sheets, and I’ve been sleeping regularly.

As someone noted in a recent comment, two-story buildings in Britannia are apparently taller than mountains, as you can cross mountains on the flying carpet but you run up against the second floor of buildings.

             I think I’ll finish exploring Despise before moving on to Jhelom. It’s time to get Dupre, then go see the gargoyle king. I’m beginning to understand why so many players loot the Royal Mint early in the game and then live off the proceeds, but in some ways finding ways to survive on a less generous economy is more fun. Maybe I’ll start baking bread.

Time so far: 20 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/the-black-gate-open-your-eyes/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost