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jrhughes · 8 months

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The Sign of the Covenant

Sunday, September 24th 2023 A.D.

Genesis 17:1-14

Golden Text: 10 This is My covenant, which ye shall keep, between Me and you and thy seed after thee; Every man child among you shall be circumcised. 11 And ye shall circumcise the flesh of your foreskin; and it shall be a token of the covenant betwixt Me and you. 12 And he that is eight days old shall be circumcised among you, every man child in your generations, he that is born in the house, or bought with money of any stranger, which is not of thy seed. - Genesis 17:10-12

God wanted His people to be a special people. As you know a covenant was cut. The meat offering of the covenant, offered to the Lord had to be cut. Here there is a cutting on every male child of Abram and all that are in his household, born or otherwise acquired. This was a covenant sign that all of the people belonged to God under the covenant of God.

This was now thirteen years after the birth of Ishmael and the first time in Scripture that we are told God had personally visited Abram since Abram was 86. Abram was 86 years old when his son Ishmael was born of Hagar. Now Abram is 99 years old and we have God speaking to him about another child. WHAT? Abram is 99 years old.

My wife has a tea for the ladies. They always have a Bible quiz. One of the questions often asked was: How old was Sarai (Sarah) when she conceived a child? There was a lady named Sister Gladys Kennedy who always attended who was in her nineties. The correct answer was Sarah was two or three years younger than Sister Kennedy, when Sarah conceived Isaac. Our point being that this was indeed a miracle birth of Abraham and Sarah, with a child coming from a 90 year old womb and the seed of a 99 year old man. IS ANYTHING TOO HARD FOR GOD?

Draw near with faith and realize that with God, all things are possible. If you doubt that you can ask Lazarus who was raised from the dead after being dead for four (4) days. NOTHING IS TOO HARD FOR GOD.

Message Text: - Genesis: Chapter 17:1-14

1 And when Abram was ninety years old and nine, the LORD appeared to Abram, and said unto him, I Am the Almighty God; walk before Me, and be thou perfect.

Abram was ninety years old and nine. Did you read that carefully? Abram was ninety-nine (99) years of age. We all KNOW that would make Abram too old to do any good for God, he should have done things when he was much younger. God cannot use an old man like that. Oh, sure God should be nice to Abram, but after all Abram is 99 years old. He considered past his prime by the world. Well Abram was, in the eyes of the world, too old when he left Haran.

Abram was 75 years old when he left Haran (Genesis 12:4). He was 86 years old when the son Ishmael was born of Hagar, the servant girl (Genesis 16:15-16). He had waited some 25 years for the fulfilment of God’s promise to give a son through Sarai. It had been some 13 years since his last recorded word from God.

BUT WAIT. GOD APPEARED. God actually appeared to this older man. WOW! He must want him to go to tell those in the nursing homes, that is all that he can do at 99. RIGHT? NO! Life has passed him. He can only prepare to die. God has nothing for a 99 year old man OR perhaps God is not bound by the ideas of man.

The LORD appeared to Abram: Undoubtedly, this was another appearance of God in the person of Jesus, who took on a temporary human appearance before His incarnation on earth (as with Hagar in Genesis 16:7-9).

I Am Almighty God: God’s first words to Abram made an introduction and a declaration of His being. By this name El Shaddai (God Almighty), God revealed His Person and character to Abram.

The last time God appeared to Abram was 13 years before.

I Am the Almighty God; walk before Me, and be thou perfect. But God speaks. We believe that this is an appearance of God. And whenever we have an appearance of God before the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, the One Who declares or shows Himself in Bodily form is the LORD Jesus Christ.

No man hath seen God at any time; the only Begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him.- John 1:18

Since there is only one form in which God appears bodily, we believe God the Son, then this must have been an appearance of God the Son centuries before He was born of a virgin in Bethlehem. And this Person spoke (say, speak, utter) and directed this old man to walk (go, walk, depart) before God AND to be perfect (be upright, sincere). Why would God ask a 99 year old man to begin a ministry to walk in it, to be upright and sincere? Perhaps the ways of God are different from the ways of man. Perhaps with GOD, ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE.

But is Jesus Almighty God? YES!

8 I Am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty. - Revelation 1:8

2 And I will make My covenant between Me and thee, and will multiply thee exceedingly.

I (GOD) will make My covenant (agreement, promise that cannot be broken) between Me (God) and thee (Abram). Did you read that? GOD ALMIGHTY is going to make a covenant, (a promise that cannot be broken) between Me (GOD) and you, mortal man. God knows the future and God here declares that Abram and his seed will keep the covenant. This was a promise of God Who is all knowing. This was the same covenant that God had been telling Abram of since his days in Ur, then Haran and finally here in Canaan. It had now been 25 years since God first made His promise to Abram. Have you ever had to wait that long?

GOD IN PRESENT TIMES. There is a story that I have been told, that I believe to be true. There was a fine Christian lady who had been praying for the conversion of her husband for two decades. Then one day her husband was on the way home from a business trip and had been killed in a car crash. She was hurt and now very upset with God, Who had not saved her husband. One day, about a month later, a young seminary aged young man came to the office of that man and asked for him by name. They told his wife. She came out to see him and told him the sad news. And when she found out that he was a seminary student she asked him why did he think God had not saved her husband? The young man said I need to tell you this.

About a month ago I was hitchhiking back to my school. It was cold and raining and so I was trying to get a ride. A man in a late modeled car stopped to pick me up. He said he usually did not pick up hitch hikers but it was cold and raining. He asked me where I was going. I told him. He said well, I can take you up the road about an hour. But may I ask you a question? Then he asked me about the Bible and some passages. After about 15 minutes I asked him, Sir, if you were to die today do you have the assurance you would go to heaven? He said, quite frankly I do not and my wife has been bugging me for years. She became a Christian very early in our marriage. Then I asked him if he would like to know for certain. He asked can one KNOW? I said Yes. First we have to know that God loves you and has a plan for your life and it ends with the paradise of heaven. But when we sin, the plan of God is frustrated. I explained how all sin earns us the death penalty for the wages of sin is death. A person who sins has earned eternal death and torment. But that love of God had sent Jesus to die on the cross to pay that death penalty for us. So, we do not have to go to hell, but can go to heaven and He makes it so very easy.

Then I went over Romans 10, verses 9 through 13. And by now I could see a tear in his eyes. Then I asked him if he wanted to pray to receive Jesus and know that he would be in heaven when he died. He said he really would like that. So we pulled off to the side of the road and he prayed that prayer confessing his sins and asking God to save him. It was wonderful. We were both in tears. Crying tears of joy. And we continued our talk until I was to get out and go up a road to my school and he let me out. He gave me his card. He said he could not wait to get home to tell his wife. So your husband is in heaven, as we speak.

The two of them rejoice together and she prayed and asked God to forgive her for doubting Him.

NOTE: MY GOD IS REAL FOR I CAN FEEL HIM DEEP IN MY SOUL.

3 And Abram fell on his face: and God talked with him, saying,

Abram knew he was in the presence of God. What did he do?

Abram fell on his face. You and I can only imagine what might happen. Suppose that the resurrected Jesus appeared before you in all His glory. Do you suppose you would react as Abram or later John?

12 And I turned to see the Voice that spake with me. And being turned, I saw seven golden candlesticks; 13 And in the midst of the seven candlesticks One like unto the Son of Man, clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about the paps with a golden girdle. 14 His Head and His hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and His eyes were as a flame of fire; 15 And His feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace; and His Voice as the sound of many waters. 16 And He had in His right Hand seven stars: and out of His mouth went a sharp twoedged sword: and His countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength. 17 And when I saw Him, I fell at His feet as dead. ... Revelation 1:12-17

Then God spoke in an audible Voice:

4 As for Me, behold, My covenant is with thee, and thou shalt be a father of many nations.

My covenant is with thee, and thou shalt be a father of many nations. God once again assures Abram that Abram is to be the one through whom will come the seed of the new covenant with God. The covenant agreement is with Abram and He tells Abram that he is to be the father of many nations. This promise is being made to a man who has had no children with his wife Sarai and only one child with the Egyptian maid Hagar. God knows the future and God is sharing that information with Abram.

5 Neither shall thy name any more be called Abram, but thy name shall be Abraham; for a father of many nations have I made thee.

Abram means, “father of many.” What a name for a man who was fatherless for the first 86 years of his life. The culture looked upon children as a reward. Thus many thought no children may have been a punishment.

Now, God went a step further and made his name “father of many nations.”

Thy name shall be Abraham; for a father of many nations have I made thee. God changes the name Abram, father of many to a new name that means father of many nations (Abraham). God is now revealing His plan. God is planning on a people that are peculiar to God (Jewish nation) which will be joined by whosoever will and those people will make up the covenant people. All who are in Christ Jesus are also heirs to this promise.

Galatians 3:26-29: - 26 For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. 27 For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. 28 There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. 29 And if ye be Christ's, then are ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise. - Galatians

6 And I will make thee exceeding fruitful, and I will make nations of thee, and kings shall come out of thee. 7 And I will establish My covenant between Me and thee and thy seed after thee in their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be a God unto thee, and to thy seed after thee.

I will make thee exceeding fruitful. God here makes a promise to Abram about him being exceeding, (surpassing, going beyond) fruitful, (profitable, beneficial). The covenant first announced in Genesis 12:1-3 is to be passed on to the children of Abram-Abraham. His children, which children?

And I will make nations of thee. From you, Abram will come nations of people.

Kings shall come out of thee. Not just numbers, but also important people, leaders of those nations.

And I will establish My covenant between Me and thee and thy seed after thee. And I do not limit this to you, Abram, but My covenant is with you and your children and grandchildren and great .... Never before had God mentioned this part of the covenant. God Who knows the future, could assure Abram that this covenant was going to last. His line, his offspring would keep the covenant.

8 And I will give unto thee, and to thy seed after thee, the land wherein thou art a stranger, all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession; and I will be their God.

By now Abram would have realized that in the natural man, Abram most likely would not produce children. But God had made a promise.

I will give unto thee, and to thy seed after thee, the land wherein thou art a stranger, all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession. Those who come after Abram: his seed, (descendants, those not yet born) children, grandchildren, great ... will God give to those children of Abram this land of Canaan. And it shall be an everlasting (continues forever) possession. (They will own it)

I will be their God. They will receive the land, but more importantly God has agreed to be the God of Abram (Abraham) and the line of Abram. They will not worship gods made with the hands of man that cannot speak, cannot hear, cannot perform miracles. NO! As for you and your house (lineage) is concerned you will worship and call upon the Only True, Living, Creator God. The land was and is God’s covenant promise to the Jewish people. Are the promises still valid? YES. (See Romans 3 and Romans 11)

9 And God said unto Abraham, Thou shalt keep My covenant therefore, thou, and thy seed after thee in their generations. 10 This is My covenant, which ye shall keep, between Me and you and thy seed after thee; Every man child among you shall be circumcised.

Keep My covenant therefore, thou, and thy seed after thee.

Covenant: Easton's Bible Dictionary

A contract or agreement between two parties. In the Old Testament the Hebrew word berith is always thus translated. Berith is derived from a root which means "to cut," and hence a covenant is a "cutting," with reference to the cutting or dividing of animals into two parts, and the contracting parties passing between them, in making a covenant (Genesis 15; Jeremiah 34:18, 19).

. . .

2. The word is used with reference to God's revelation of Himself in the way of promise or of favor to men. ... We have an account of God's covenant with Abraham (Genesis 17, comp. Leviticus 26:42), ...

This covenant had a sign or token. Every man child among you shall be circumcised. There was to be a cutting away of the foreskin on every male child who was a part of the family of Abraham and those bought in his household, the ones Abram owned. Circumcision was/is required of every male at the age of eight days old.

CIRCUMCISION:

A religious rite performed on male children of Jews on the eighth day after birth; also on their slaves, whether born in the house or not. It was enjoined upon Abraham and his descendants as "a token of the covenant" concluded with him by God for all generations, the penalty of non-observance being "karet," excision from the people (Gen. xvii. 10-14,xxi. 4; Lev. xii. 3). Aliens had to undergo circumcision before they could be allowed to partake of the covenant-feast of Passover (Ex. xii. 48), or marry into a Jewish family (Gen. xxxiv. 14-16). It was "a reproach" for the Israelite to be uncircumcised (Josh. v. 9; on "the reproach of Egypt"...

. . .

... According to Ex. iv. 24-26, the circumcision of the first-born son was omitted by Moses, and the Lord therefore "sought to kill him"; whereupon "Zipporah took a flint and cut off the foreskin of her son, and made it touch [A. V., "cast it at"] his [Moses'] feet," saying, "A bridegroom of blood art thou to me." Thus Moses was ransomed by the blood of his son's circumcision.

Strange as was this omission on the part of Moses, the omission of the rite on the part of the Israelites in the wilderness was no less singular.

. . .

...As recorded in Josh. v. 2-9, "all the people that came out" of Egypt were circumcised, but those "born in the wilderness" were not; and therefore Joshua, before the celebration of the Passover, had them circumcised with knives of flint (compare Ex. iv. 25) at Gilgal, which name is explained as "the rolling away" of "the reproach of Egypt"...

There are some commentators that explain God did this because it was safe for the child, others had done it and so forth. NO! God did not follow them. This was a sign or token. It was the idea of God. It was only long afterward that the wisdom of God was seen and verified God knew exactly what He was doing, when to do it, and the purpose of it so the world would know who were his people. Later science caught up. IT WAS NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND as some try to have you believe. This was the idea of God. The world tries to tell you that it was adopted from other cultures. Not true. THIS CIRCUMCISION was the outward sign of the covenant with God.

But we ask: but I ask you, who are the true seed of Abraham?

7 Neither, because they are the seed of Abraham, are they all children: but, In Isaac shall thy seed be called. 8 That is, They which are the children of the flesh, these are not the children of God: but the children of the promise are counted for the seed. - Romans 9:7-8

28 For he is not a Jew, which is one outwardly; neither is that circumcision, which is outward in the flesh: 29 But he is a Jew, which is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter; whose praise is not of men, but of God. - Romans 2:28-29

11 And ye shall circumcise the flesh of your foreskin; and it shall be a token of the covenant betwixt Me and you. 12 And he that is eight days old shall be circumcised among you, every man child in your generations, he that is born in the house, or bought with money of any stranger, which is not of thy seed. 13 He that is born in thy house, and he that is bought with thy money, must needs be circumcised: and My covenant shall be in your flesh for an everlasting covenant.

God makes it very clear to Abram who is to be circumcised. God does not limit it to genetic (DNA) but also every man child in your generations, he that is born in the house, or bought with money of any stranger, which is not of thy seed. All of these males must needs be circumcised: and My covenant shall be in your flesh for an everlasting covenant. There are to be no exceptions.

Notice the reaction of Abram-Abraham: no committee meetings, no checking around, just immediate obedience to God and to the everlasting covenant.

14 And the uncircumcised man child whose flesh of his foreskin is not circumcised, that soul shall be cut off from his people; he hath broken My covenant.

There is a severe penalty for those who do not come under the covenant authority of God. The uncircumcised will be treated as one who has rejected the Covenant of God. He is a covenant breaker. As such he will not enjoy any of the benefits of the Covenant of God. In the New Testament era it is not as if you rejected baptism, it is as if you rejected the salvation offered to whosoever will.

For God so loved the world, that He (Father-God) gave His Only Begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him (Jesus and His death in their place) should not perish, but have everlasting life. - John 3:16

Notice the verse says should not perish. Why? Because Jesus died for all sins and all sinners, but if you chose not to accept His death in your place, although you should not perish, it does not say you SHALL NOT perish. Failure to repent and rely upon Jesus death on the cross will leave you outside the salvation covenant.

As Circumcision is necessary to every male in the household of Abram, salvation is only for those who are willing to turn from a life of sin and accept the death of Jesus to pay for your sins. Jesus paid the death penalty. You must accept the benefit: His bloody, sacrificial death has earned for you. BECAUSE OF HIM you should not perish, you should have everlasting life. Have you accepted Him and His death in your place? If not . . . .

Final word about Circumcision. The world will tell you that this practice was practiced by others before, but the main purpose of earlier circumcisions was to help in procreation of children. Only here in the Bible does God set it forth as the only way to heaven is through Jesus. The circumcised ones had to also believe in the Messiah of Israel, then yet to come. But now He has come, being born in a stable near or in Bethlehem. HE came to die. HE died to pay the death penalty that your sins earned you. TURN ALL THE WAY TO JESUS.

The New Testament Covenant. Salvation, saving one from being on the way to hell and now making heaven his/her home.

HOW? God does not make it difficult.

Romans Chapter 10:9-13

9 That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. 10 For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. 11 For the scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed. 12 For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon Him. 13 For whosoever shall call upon the Name of the Lord shall be saved.

If you believe Jesus is Lord, the One Who makes the final decisions in your life; and you believe that after His crucifixion (bloody death on the cross) He died and was buried in a tomb. (But God raised Him from the dead.) YOU can be saved from the penalty and torment of hell and the lake of fire. Call upon Him to forgive you, to cleanse you, to come into your heart and life. You trust Him as Lord and the Only Way to heaven, then you will be saved. You will make your final home the paradise of heaven. HALLELUJAH.

PRAYER: Heavenly Father, I come before You asking You to make sure that I am totally in the faith and am a fit vessel to be used of You. If I am not now fit, Lord, please forgive me of all of my sin and unrighteousness, cleanse me and make me Yours. Then Lord make me fit for Your use and bring to me those that You want me to share the Good News of Jesus Christ and all that HE has done for me. And make me aware that the covenant with You (since Jesus was born, lived and died for me) is only available through my faith in the Lord Jesus and what HE has done for me. I admit my heart is deceitful, the things I do, even for You are like filthy rags. Take me, as I am and change me, so that I may be used by You. Then make me willing and available to be used by You, I pray in the Name of Jesus Christ, the LORD. Amen and amen.

May God bless you in all that you do for Him, Brother J.R. Soul winner, Bible teacher, Defender of the Faith

#abraham #bible study #genesis

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ktheist · 4 years

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pretty girls don’t get hurt | m

synopsis. your mom has been asking you for a grandchild - not even a son-in-law but the baby to said nonexistent son-in-law! and your dad is hitting an age where he can barely work anymore. at some point you’re going to take over his position as the chairman of the family hospital but you know nothing about medicine. that’s where kim seokjin comes in. he’ll marry you and become the chairman so you can keep your ceo position and you’ll get a child out of him too. it’s like killing two birds with one stone.

except there’s one problem: you’ve never met the man and you need him to agree to the marriage first. okay, make that two problems.

muses. heir!doctor!seokjin x heiress!ceo!reader x best friend!heir!taehyung

words. 15.6k

contents. slowburn. sexual tension. impregnation kink. daddy/older men kink. viagra is involved lmao.

warnings. matured content.

verse. knj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

“you want my what?”

seokjin’s jaw hangs loose, brows coming together in a show of frustrated bewilderment. it’s tells you enough that he heard you the first time but then again, you’re not asking him for dinner. you’re asking him for-

“your hand in marriage.” glossed lips curl upwards underneath the pristine white cup of hot coffee from the vending machine.

you watch as his widened eyes narrow. lips smack together and finally anger settles in the muscles of his hardening expression. “you’re joking.”

it’s understandable that he’d feel offended. even more so when it’s coming from a stranger who strode right into his office and introduced herself as the chairman’s daughter - the ceo. that’s probably the only reason he agreed to spare you his time - and you’re spending it for this.

it’d be a lie if you say you weren’t surprised that he didn’t know the ceo of the hospital he’s working at but judging from the way he treats you, like he has better things to do - lives to save, you know he’s that type of person. the mad scientist version of a doctor. doesn’t attend annual dinners. doesn’t take off days. he’s perfect.

“dad’s getting old and he needs someone to succeed him but i don’t know anything about medicine - i’m more of a businesswoman and the board wants someone of a clinical background to continue the tradition. if it were up to me, medical expenses would be much higher per patient but i’m also not a capitalist so i need someone on the field to tell me how things are at the hospital so we don’t overcharge nor do we undercharge.”

his eye is twitching at the end of your words and his jaw is clenched in suppression of agitation. at this point, you’re going to have to keep it short so not to drop the whole bomb on him before he himself explodes. “so how bout it? you marry me and become the next chairman and i’ll take care of all the non-clinical related matters. if you were to decline... i can’t guarantee things will remain the same after dad retires.”

“my break is over. it’s nice meeting you miss ___ but i hope we don’t run into each other again.” the chair screeches backwards when he stands up abruptly before you can even finish your sentence. he didn’t even check the time when he swipes his phone off the table and slips it right into his pocket. his words are as clear as day: this is the first and last time we meet.

“you still have ten more minutes, doctor kim.” for some reason he hasn’t stormed off - dare you say, he’s even taking what you said seriously - good. because you’re not here for a laugh either. you meet his heated gaze with ease. “i’m not sure you understand but you’re the cinderella and i’m the prince charming.”

you take out a single midnight scented card and slide it over to seokjin. “and this is a proposal, not a blackmail. call me when you’re ready to talk about the terms for the prenup.”

it’s been a week since you left your card with seokjin.

now, sitting in your office, the scene keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record. a scream erupts in the otherwise pleasantly silent room as you slump in your seat, hands digging into your hair as though if you rub your head hard enough, the memories would fade away. “taehyung, how did i even get that confidence? a prenup? he didn’t even say yes!”

the aforementioned man spares you a glance from the couch he’s lying on before going back to typing away on his phone. it’s probably yuju - one of his recent acquaintances. if you remember correctly, she’s the daughter of sbs’ ceo.

“boys are simple minded beings, give it another day and he’ll call you.” he casually assures, this time not even look away from his phone.

the sleek back hair and black button down underneath seokjin’s white coat flashes at the back of your mind. you don’t see that many doctors wearing something that needs ironing to work that often. sure there’s a dress code but your dad isn’t strict about it - all that mattered to him is the quality of one’s work. for all he cares, these doctors can come to work in pj’s. it’s you that had to make sure they don’t come in pj’s. collared t-shirts are acceptable. so are sneakers instead of heeled shoes. but kim seokjin was nothing less of button down, a well made tie and polished black shoes.

it shows that-

“he’s a man, not a boy.”

this time, taehyung’s fingers freeze on the screen before he turns his cheeks to you with an unfazed expression - as though he’d expected this but still got disappointed when he hears it. “so it’s his age? you wanna marry him because he’s nine years older than you?”

there’s something about the way he singles out the reason you decided it was seokjin, that makes you look away in shame. but you still force out a laugh in a last ditch attempt to brush it off but it sounds awkward in every octave. “ha ha ha ha what are you talking about? he’s the most eligible marriage prospect - that’s why.”

“there’s another one.” he points out. still unconvinced, “that suho guy - he’s also a fellow. also an only child-”

you speak over him,“-but his background is so-so. civil servant parents. went to an ordinary school. you think he’ll adapt to the pressure as quick as seokjin?” suho’s smiling picture peeks from underneath the documents you’d been reviewing before the flashback of your bold proposal comes and haunt you. it’s his resume along with every physician working at the hospital for more than eight years, that you’d obtained from your dad’s secretary. “you know whoever becomes my husband and assume the chairman position is gonna get chewed out alive by the board. it has to be him - it has to be seokjin.”

a sigh echoes from somewhere across from you as taehyung sits up, brows furrowed together as he rubs his head as if it’ll make the the problem go away. “yeah, but he left the social scene a decade ago. you think he’ll walk back in just like that?”

“his records have been nothing but remarkable. he sticks around and works overtime. he’s been one of the most consistent physicians that worked on every holidays. doesn’t take off days. basically a workaholic who loves his job way too much - he doesn’t need to enter the social scene. not when i’m his wife.” a grin spreads across your face by the end of it - all this time, you’d been reading the report about him but once you’ve actually put it in words, the chances of him saying yes seems to sound more real, “he’s gonna keep working as the chairman and ignore anything the board says. he’s perfect.”

“yeah, okay let’s say he is perfect and there’s no reason for him to say no except one,” taehyung pauses for a more dramatic effect, lips twitching upwards slyly as if he knows it’s already got you on the edge of your seat, “what if he has a girlfriend he wants to marry?”

and that’s when your world comes crashing down like waves against the rocks but you don’t like the smug look on taehyung’s face, “yeah but with his schedule, it doesn’t seem like he has one.”

“you never know - they could very well be living together. plus, it’s not like he has to report his dating life to the hospital and he seems like a private enough man to keep it on the low even from his colleagues.”

his words are barely registering but the longer the second stretches on with your thoughts running wild, the faster your heart seems to race. but one thing’s for sure. taehyung’s here because you’re supposed to be discussing the partnership.

“if you’re not gonna talk about work, then get out.” your eye visibly twitches - all of a sudden your best friend since you were in diapers’ presence serves more as a nuisance than a blessing.

“you’re mad, aren’t you?” a grin spreads across his lips before he bursts into laughter - he’s the only person that would laugh in the face of death, “man you’re full of ego - i guess you should be. i mean, if all else fails, he might just say yes because of your face, right, sparky?”

he’s using that nickname he used to call you when you were kids. your love - or as taehyung would put it, obsession for shines and sparkles in diamonds peaked at the age of ten thanks to your mom’s hobby of collecting dimes. she’d sold everything off after she got bored of them and needed space for the arts she bought - her new found hobby. but you remained true to your love for diamonds and symbol of riches and bought half of her collection.

over time, he starts using it less and less and only for reasons to get a rise out of you. where did that cute boy who called you sparky because he thought you were as pretty as the diamonds, go?

all he is now is a devil incarnate. with that height and silly grin of his, he easily antagonize you. and you always give in.

“you’re supposed to be on my side and give me assurance!” you toss a balled up paper, aiming right in his face but instead of hitting the mark, he easily catches it.

“how’s this for assurance? you’re only gonna hurt yourself if you throw a ball like that.” he picks his blazer off the handrest and makes a beeline for the door when he senses the smoke coming out of your ears, “i’m late for my date, see you later!”

it’s exactly fifteen hours later that you receive a call from seokjin.

instead of meeting up at the cafeteria, he’d directed you to flower child, one of the most coveted fine dining restaurants in seoul two days after the call. it turns out he’d made a reservation - and you’re no fool to the long waiting line to get a table. he must’ve booked it some time after your first meeting.

he’s made some effort into putting on a black blazer and matching pants. hair styled to perfection. he may have cut his family off but he hasn’t completely abandoned the way he lived up till a decade ago. you allow yourself to check him out once - when he’d stood up at your arrival and pushed the chair for you.

thankfully, you’re not too underdressed. a creme blouse and grey pencil skirt suit any kind of formal setting.

“have you thought about what you want to include in the prenup?” you ask after the server leaves with your order.

seokjin seems more collected this time. or maybe it’s the incense and dimmed lighting that gives off a more suitable atmosphere to talk about marriage.

either way, you don’t expect the man to chuckle - a short, wistful one. as though he truly, honestly believes- “why would you want to marry an old man like me?”

you know what he’s asking: there’s got to be a catch. straightening your back and crossing it over your chest loosely, you decide to come clean - the full truth. “you’re only thirty-four but i won’t lie - you have a price on your head, doctor kim.”

the server comes back with a small cart and a bucket of chilled red wine. you wait until he pours a third of both glasses and goes away. but seokjin doesn’t appear all that eager for your elaboration - it’s almost as though he’s already known. or at least expected that much.

“your mother is willing to pay anyone who marries you a whooping ten million if the lucky bride brings you back to your family.” you watch as he studies the density of the wine, twirling the glass gently with a sort of tilt on his lips like a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “but i won’t make you reconcile with your family. i’ve told you my intentions - i need someone who knows the ins and outs of the hospital since don’t have any clinical background and it’d be easier if we were husband and wife.”

it’s in that moment that seokjin tears his eyes off the wine and captures your gaze. in the absence of the sunlight, those brown eyes appear more black, reflecting the dancing fire on the incense. you feel naked and bare as he wedges his fingers in and tear open the windows to your soul. “don’t you have someone you want to marry, miss___? someone you love?”

taehyung’s silly grin flashes at the back of your mind like a solar flare you can’t erase - all you can do is wait until dies out on its own. you don’t realize your unfocused gaze is directed to seokjin in the split second you wait for your thoughts to gather itself. redirecting your gaze to the wayward reflection in your own glass, you let out a breathy chuckle. “yeah, well.”

it’s pathetic and embarrassing but you can’t even conjure up proper words. instead, you bring the wine to your lips, preferring to taste the bittersweetness of the wine than that of your own reality.

all you talk about for the rest of the night is matters pertaining the marriage. what he’ll have to endure and what he won’t have to endure. he doesn’t need to attend any of the social functions even if you’re married. doesn’t also need to concern himself with matters about his family - it becomes tricky when his family catches news of their only son’s marriage and want to be there for the ceremonious day.

“i don’t know what’s going on with you and your family but they won’t be invited if you don’t want them to be.” you fix him with one of your smiles. a tilt in the corner of your lips and a languid flutter of your eyelids before meeting his gaze. it always works - takes away the essence of the conversation and makes them focus on you so if he wants to throw your words back at you, there’s a leeway you could escape to.

until you couldn’t.

“it’s fine. i’ve been running away for the last few years - it’s time i face them head on.” he looks up from the steak he’s cutting - you still haven’t recover from the time he’d look at you in the eye and effortlessly tore your defenses like it was paper but there he does it again, splaying out your scheme like a dish best served hot, “besides, they won’t be invited but you can’t- no, you won’t stop them from showing up, right?”

it’s true. his family isn’t just any normal family. his father is a ceo of one of the most prominent cell phone companies in the world after all. you’d be invincible if you’re in good terms with your in-laws. or at least, if they think you’re on their side and want to help them get their son back.

but seeing as nothing gets past seokjin, you’re only left to either evade the question or full out deny it to keep your pride intact. either way, both options will only serve to confirm his suspicion - he may already know what you’re up to but verbalizing it is a different kind of pride-crushing. your lips curl into a smile - an irony of having been cornered in every direction from the man you thought you could wrap around your fingers.

but because your pride wouldn’t allow you to look like a fool and your ethics wouldn’t allow you to tell a flat out lie (half truths are alright), you decide the first option is much better. “there’s one more thing - i want to get pregnant within the first year of our marriage.”

or else, you’re going to end up like your parents - their bones weren’t as strong as they used to be by the time they got you and their souls were withered from the works they’d put on in their better years of their lives. your mother’s life was risked by the late pregnancy. still, they tried to love you better but there were things you couldn’t do with parents who were hitting 50 before you even reached high school. you couldn’t go camping or bike riding or fishing like your grandfather brought your father to.

it seems to have caught seokjin off guard when he stares at you with wide eyes a tad longer before dropping his head and chuckling to himself, “my, i don’t know if i still have it in me.”

and that’s how you know he’s messing with you - perhaps it’s his own way of reminding you that he’s too old for you and if he’s lucky, it’ll scare you away from the idea of marriage altogether. but the fact that he’s trying to make you give up means that he’s agreeing to the marriage. you let your lips curve into a smile, adrenaline rushing through your veins and into your very core.

you absolutely can’t wait to get married.

the marriage will be held within five months - it’s the earliest you can get. it’d be suspicious if you just suddenly got married without any scandal or news of dating the estranged only child of the kim family. you’ve already hired a reporter to follow you during your first three ‘dates’ - they may very well be the only dates you go on together judging from your packed schedule. it’s been almost a week since that dinner and you’ve made plans to appear in public together - your first date.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait for the light on the handle to turn from red to green - a signal that the owner’s allowed you access. “hey, you ready?” is the first thing you say, even though you know he’s not.

“miss ___, i’m sorry i was working and didn’t realize the time.” he seems to be genuinely apologetic - and there’s an x-ray film and some papers strewn over his desk to verify his claim. “i’ll freshen up and -”

his brows lift in surprise when you lower yourself on his lap just as he pushes the chair backwards to stand up. the usually gelled light brown hair falls over his face in a messy middle part and his button down is less crisped than when you saw him the first time. granted your first meeting with him was at noon - it’s not enough time for the demands of his career to dishevel him. it’s evening now.

his jaw slacks just the slightest bit, resulting for his lips to part - you’ve noticed their plump fullness and it’d be a lie if you said you didn’t wonder about how they’d feel on yours. the taupe acrylic on your thumb digs into the soft pink flesh of his lips before it travels to his chin.

“may i?” two words. and that’s all it takes for something lustrous to take over his eyes. you find yourself smirking when he stares quizzically as your hand leaves his face and brings his own between your lips. his fingerpads are callous from years of surgical training but they don’t tremble under the touch of your tongue. his digits are lengthier than you expect them to be. his middle finger hit the back of your throat easily before you can get them all in but he’s not the only one that’s received training.

you switch to his ring finger, tongue gently curling around it before you drag your teeth over the ridges of its joint. as a finishing touch, you make sure to lick the bottom of your lips all the while holding his gaze. then, you allow the smile to grace your lips as though nothing happened but the way you pretend to struggle to get up, causing your ass to rub against his arousal - defeats that false sense of innocence.

either way, his surprised expression turns to an amused one as he chuckles a low chuckle - an admittance of your victory, “my, i just lost, didn’t it?”

“whatever do you mean?” you blink, lashes fluttering with feigned innocence.

articles are starting to pop up after your personal reporter uploaded hers. it’s not enough to shake the world but it’s enough to catch the eyes of secretaries which in turn tell their bosses and as a result, your phone’s been blowing up and your own secretary has been taking calls since this morning.

“___, you’re leaving already?” taeyeon cups the mouthpiece of the phone she’s been on for the last five minutes, alarms going off in her eyes at the thought of your absence. you don’t blame her - from the way the conversation seems to be going, she might just drag the whole telephone all the way to your desk and make you answer them.

business proposals must be pouring in. you feel bad for your secretary but to be frank, the instant ringing as soon as she held up the last call - has been bothering you to no end as well.

you grin sheepishly, “i got a meeting with dad.” it’s just a coincidence that your dad called you to his office today - he usually does every once in a while just to ask how you’re doing and lament about having to handle your mother’s random burst of hobbies she’s getting into ever since you moved out.

looks like nobody’s noticed the ‘rumor’ yet from the way the workers in the administration department bows and greets you on your way to the office. granted, these people are too devoted to their work to pay attention to the latest business scandals but you expected at least one person to be blowing up the group chat with pictures of you and seokjin’s first date.

there’s a familiar figure leaning against your dad’s desk but no trace of the elder man - he must have went to the washroom or something. you thought it odd when taehyung’s eyes fall on you without the usual grin he would usually offer whenever he sees you - like reflex. at first, you assume his own date with yuju probably didn’t go very well.

“hey, loser. this is the first time you’re here earlier than me.” you fix the man your own grin, happy to be able to see not one but two of your favorite persons. taehyung’s been coming over to play at your house since forever. it was normal for your dad to invite him to his office and take you two to lunch now that you two have grown up.

...until you notice your dad on the couch and another person sitting adjacent to him. it’s easy to miss people when they’re sitting down and easier to have your eyes focus on taehyung’s tall frame.

the tension almost crushes your lungs as soon as you walk through the door. it becomes apparent all too soon that taehyung tried to warn you with his eyes to not be your usual idiot self. now, you’re paying the price for it as all eyes fall on you.

the third person in the room turns his cheek towards you - seokjin. he offers a too polite smile as you come to a stop next to the couch he’s one.

“daddy?” all of a sudden, you’re a child in a room full of adults and calling your out to your dad, as if it would somehow make him explain this situation you just walked in.

the elder man releases a long drawn sigh before speaking, “i’d like a word with my daughter and doctor kim, if you don’t mind, taehyung.”

“sure, uncle.” the aforementioned man offers one of his gallant smiles, pushing himself off the desk without taking out his hands from his pockets.

you grab onto taehyung’s arm as he’s about to pass you - pleading with your eyes for him not to leave you, a mere ant, with the elephants in the room. that’s when his serious facade falls through and he’s grinning at you like a brother would to his sister when he knows she’s going to get in trouble with their parents. your temple throbs with a burst of rage but before you can say anything, he’s already out of the door.

the sweetness of the tea mrs. nam served is tasteless compared to the tangible tension in the air. it’s become apparent that while the more tech savvy staff remain clueless of your updated dating status, your father, is not.

be it as it may, guess you should give credit where it’s due - seokjin’s expression is free of any tautness. it’s perfectly neutral - it’s frightening. you know for a fact you’re not saved from a hard line on your glossed lips and a crease between your brows.

“i heard from my wife that you two are dating.” the elderly man finally breaks the silence.

he’s addressing your mom like that so to make it known that he’s talking to seokjin too - and you’re not the only one in hot water. but seeing as it’s your idea and your proposal, it’s also your responsibility to respond-

“that’s correct, sir.”

-but seokjin beats you to it. it’s not just his expression but his tone is completely at ease. almost as though he’s faced tense situations like this one too many times.

you breathe out before speaking, “i was going to introduce doctor kim to you and mom once we bought our engagement rings.”

your dad finally looks up, eyes wide and mouth slacked for the briefest second before his eyes flutter close. now’s about time for him to be rubbing his temples from the headache but instead, he lets out a sigh. for a split second, you see your dad for the age he is - not the age you remember him as in your earliest memories. wrinkles and smile lines and graying hair.

the seconds stretch on as do the silence. you can hear the distant ringing of the telephone all the way from mrs. nam’s desk from outside, almost clearly.

once your word settles in, then comes the million dollar question, “do you two love each other?”

it’s a no brainer. anyone with eyes can see and answer that for you - or perhaps taehyung already told your dad since he must have gone through a similar interrogation session. and yet, it’s only natural to want confirmation from your own daughter instead of her best friend even though he knows everything about her.

this can only go two ways: yes or no.

but you’ve never been fond of flat out lying, especially to the man who taught you such principles and you’ve talked about marrying for convenience with them ever since you realized that ambitions tend to reward but cheap sentiments like love does not.

yet your chest feels heavy having to go against your parents’ wishes and hopes for you - they want what any parent want for their child. happiness. “no, we don’t.”

“but no one enters into a marriage with divorce in mind. i don’t plan on just being a husband to your daughter just on paper. i’ll care for miss ___ and treat her the way like a queen. that much, i promise, sir.” seokjin holds your dad’s gaze - it’s haunting and charming, you would know. you’d been on the receiving end once too many times already. and you know that’s how he gets your dad.

the older man nods, shoulder line relaxing almost as though he’s been lifted off a dead weight. he’s not the only one - you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you feel your own muscles loosening and you’re breathing out in relief.

until his head snaps up to point out one thing, “you’re getting married yet you’re not on first name basis?”

“sorry to rope you into family drama, i’ll be more prepared next time so you won’t have to leave your work.” is the first thing you say once you’re in the elevator. your dad has made sure to grill you to half-death with his questions. he’s gonna give the immigration a run for their money. the first name basis matter is just the beginning of a series of dread -

‘what’s my daughter’s favorite color?’

‘dad, do you even know my-”

‘shh. do you know my daughter still wets the bed at the age ten?’

‘dad!’

seokjin had taken your dad on in stride. he chuckled when your dad said something ridiculous, borderline false and he listened on when your dad went on about the sob story of a ‘poor father with an undefeatable daughter’. but the way he did it was so effortless - almost as if he was a boyfriend visiting your parents and getting told all the embarrassing stories of your childhood and would tease you about it but at the end of the day, tells you he thinks the kid-you was cute - bed wetter or not.

there’s something that restricts your airway at the thought of sharing a feeling so strong with someone. in no time, you push the intimate image away. you and seokjin aren’t like that - this is marriage is strictly convenience-based.

“i asked a friend of mine to cover for me.” so he knew it’d be long but he didn’t actually said it was okay either. marriage is a tricky subject especially for someone as work-crazed as seokjin. you’re surprised he hasn’t cursed you out for making him miss work. “is it red?”

“what?” you blink, steps halting as you stare up at him with what starts to be mindless curiosity but ends up with a stretched on pause as you study the man’s visage. the plumpness of his lips is a given- it’s the first thing you noticed about him.

“your favorite color.” the corners of his lips lifts upwards before he includes his assertion, “you’re always wearing something red - your lipstick was red when we went for dinner. you have a red blouse on now.”

even you didn’t know you have so much red. but it’s true - your functions and meetings wardrobe consists of red and black predominantly besides the more neutral pastel colors. you have a higher success rate of getting sponsors when you wear the tight fitted red dress.

but it’s not a preferred shade per se.

“no,” you chuckle, “my favorite color is yellow, like the banana.”

seokjin’s brows rises at that. he probably didn’t expect that - nobody expects the fierce and confident woman to like such a bright, clarifying color. “though i understand why you think it’s red.”

his lips curl into a smile - the kind of smile that mimics your own, not the one that he wears to charm your father. though that one was also genuine, this one makes him feel younger. like someone you can crack silly jokes with instead of the ever uptight working man.

before he manages to say anything, your name reverberates across the lobby. taehyung’s shrugged off that ugly grey checkered blazer of his and left it at the sofa as he mini run towards you. the grin on his face gradually falls off when he notices the lack of smile on your face.

“you left me for dead!”

he blocks your fist with a hand around your wrist before sighing as if you’re not just directing every ounce of energy in that punch of yours - but then again, none of your smacks really get to him.

“i didn’t know uncle was gonna ask me about that - i thought it was gonna be the usual lunch. i mean, come on, i waited for you down here even though i have work to do so i can make sure all your limbs are intact!” he looks like he almost meant it. almost.

it’s in that moment that seokjin’s remark reminds you that he’s still there, “you two must be close.”

“huh?” taehyung narrows his eye at you as though you’re no more than gum under his shoes while you whip your hand out of his grasp and scoff.

“nah, i’m her only friend.”

“it’s because he doesn’t have any other friend.”

you both say at the same time.

at least seokjin’s still able to laugh with all the intention-to-kill in the air. before you can elaborate on how taehyung kept following you around like a lost puppy when you were younger, seokjin’s hand finds its way around your shoulder, you thought it odd that he needs to pat on the shoulder farthest from him but it turns out he’s pulling you towards him but by the time you realize it, you’re already craning your neck to look at him. but you barely notice the awkward position of his lips on the spot just above your left eyebrow - his lips really are soft. and warm.

and gone.

before you know it, he’s pulling away, saying something about seeing you later - you couldn’t hear it from the blood rushing in your ears and the heat rising on your face. it’s only after you see his white coat disappear around the corner do you finally take notice of the slyly grinning fox in front of you.

“what did i tell you? simple-minded beings.”

you still don’t know why seokjin kissed you on the forehead.

sure, he told your dad he’s not planning to just be a husband on paper - okay. but he’s nowhere near a husband to you yet and you haven’t even given him an engagement ring. it doesn’t help that your heart keeps racing every time time the image of his sharp jaw and pursed lips before he kissed you, plays at the back of your mind.

he smelled good too - like aftershave and lemon and a hint of disinfectants.

before you know it, you find yourself rapping on his door eight minutes past 7 in the evening. after a whole solid minute of the red light on the door handle remaining the same color, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding. it’s supposed to be past his shift but judging from the lack of response from the other side of the room, you know straight away that he’s still at the wards. it may have been an impromptus decision but now that you’ve walked the distance from your office to the other end of the building, you might as well go the extra mile and actually look for him.

most of the nurses and doctors that pass you recognize you, bowing briefly before hurrying to where they were heading before they saw you. you rarely visit the cardiology department - or any other department for that matter because it’s always a hassle for the staff to prepare to greet you. in that aspect, you agree with seokjin - that they could be doing something better than pushing their schedules on their colleague to accompany a sightseeing vip.

“miss ___?” a young man around your age calls, his brows furrow at the idea that his eyes could be fooling him but when you turn to him, his eyes light up in pleasant surprise, “it really is you. why - i didn’t know you were visiting today.”

“doctor kim,” you don’t forget a face easily - right before you is kim suho. the smile that stretches when you recognize him is telling enough. his past achievements are definitely to brag about and he must have attended the annual dinner if he recognizes you, “good evening. this isn’t an official visit - actually, i’m looking for someone. do you happen to know where doctor kim seokjin is?”

“seokjin?” he repeats the name with a sort of familiarity, coupled with confusion. of course, he’s probably wondering what the work-crazed doctor did to have the ceo come all the way to the wards.

“miss ___?” it’s feels almost deja vu - having your names called out by two different people within the span of five minutes. both sounding equally confused but for different reasons.

“good evening,” you fix seokjin one of your alluring smiles, heart skipping a beat - it’s probably the stethoscope hanging over his shoulder. it compliments the collared button down and white coat, look you usually see him in, “i went to you office but you weren’t there so i came here.”

“let’s talk in my office.” he clears his throat, eyes drifting to look to somewhere on his left before he stops himself. if it’s the whispering nurses at the counter he’s worried about - he shouldn’t be. because you’re about to put a ring on it.

“sorry, i was doing my last rounds but the patient was a chatty one - i lost track of time.” he says, walking into the office and setting the stethoscope down on his desk before he takes a seat behind it.

you notice the way his eyes travel from your perfectly pinned up hair down to your diamonds adorned neck down to the halter strap of your elegant maroon dress that wraps around your body flawlessly. but he doesn’t say a word - and you’re forced to school your expression to not show your surprise and hurt when he doesn’t even let his gaze linger for any longer than necessary as he meets your eyes again.

you take out the suede velvet box from your purse and place it right in front of him. “it just came in, why don’t you try putting it on?”

his eyes twinkle with a surprise not because of the foretelling shape and characteristics of the box, nor the affirmation of the silver band inside it but because it sits snugly around his ring finger when he slips it on.

“how did you get my size right?” the impressed tone laced in his voice makes your chest swell with pride and lips curl into a smirk.

it only takes him a few seconds to interpret your smirk - that time in his office. the ghost of his digit on your tongue still lingers. it wasn’t just for show and you weren’t cruel enough to put a man through that misery if you didn’t have your own reasons.

he shakes his head, ring bluntly glinting as suppresses his chuckle with his hand.

your heart is beating too loudly in your chest - there’s something in the way he’s bearing your claim but you still manage to sound leveled and collected. “since we’re officially engaged, do you mind if i call you seokjin?”

“i’d like that very much, ___.” he’s finally dropped the suffix. ms. this, ms. that. you’ve gotten used to it but it serves to enforce the invisible line between you and him when he addresses you so formally.

your phone buzzes in your purse - it must be taehyung. you didn’t expect to spend longer than ten minutes but he must be waiting at the lobby if he’s texting you now. standing up, you bid him a parting “have a nice evening, seokjin.”

he doesn’t seem like he has anything on his mind but just as your hand covers the handle of the door, he speaks up, “once we’re married, could you refrain from going to these functions?”

it takes you off guard. like a spear that pierces you just as you lay down your armor but you’re not one to let something like this get to you, “i’m afraid that’s not possible.” and that’s it. it’s final.

but you should have known when you decide to use that practiced icy tone, that seokjin wouldn’t just back off the way almost everyone would. the only people who would still have the gal to say something or dismiss it are your parents and taehyung.

“i know you expect me to be an obedient husband and become chairman and do my job. it shouldn’t matter if you attend these functions since you’re not forcing me to go with you.” and there’s those eyes again. tearing into the soul of your window and stripping you bare the way only kim seokjin could. “but marriage is about compromise - giving up one thing for the other. i’m gonna inherit my dad’s fortunes and you’re gonna get that 10 million my mom promised. shouldn’t that be enough to get the projects for the hospital rolling?"

when he says it like that, it seems so easy and simple. “no wonder you’re a doctor. you don’t know a thing about maintaining a sustainable business.” you let your lips curl briefly, “but i’ll think about what you said.”

then, you’re out of his office. heels clicking against the floor as you make your way to the lobby and into taehyung’s familiar sleek black burgatti.

“so he asked you to stop coming to these functions.” the car rolls to a stop right in front of the hall where the birthday party of seollyu’s president is held.

“in essence, yeah.” you say after he comes around the car and your hand automatically tucks itself in the crook of his arm.

“then why are you mad?” the car purrs behind you before the valet takes it somewhere to park it.

some of the reporters at the entrance calls your and taehyung’s names in an attempt to make you look at the camera. there’s too many and the lights are blinding - you just want to get into the hall quickly. at least they won’t be able to follow you past the doors.

“i just - i don’t like that he’s asking me to change, you know? just because i’m married, i won’t get to do the things i usually do before? that’s just bullshit.” you huff in frustration - not bothering to hide your stiff eyebrows and slightly pursed lips all the while you have your pictures taken. at best, they’re going to slander you with jealousy over taehyung’s new budding romance.

“i mean, he did cut his family off and stopped going to these things.” the man shrugs, “maybe he has a good reason - did you even ask him why?”

and that’s how you know you’ve lost the fight. taehyung’s too sensible - naturally, he wouldn’t have his own startup at such a young age, if he isn’t the way he is now. but you don’t want an analyst - you want a friend who would listen to you and let you vent your frustrations before finding the root of the problem and suggesting the solution.

taehyung knows this and he knows plenty of many things, having been your childhood and best friend all in one package. but because he knows you too well, he also knows you’ll end up doing something you would regret if he were too late to point out your mistake. sometimes you want to prove him wrong - that you can call the right shots when it comes to people without having him paint a picture for you to foresee the outcome but so far, there’s limited exhibits of your success. your failed past relationships being the prime examples.

“i hate it when you’re right.” you grumble, letting your hand fall to your side - usually you wouldn’t mind having to cling onto taehyung like a child. you’re all the other has in these functions - everyone has their own reason for attending and just like absolutely everyone, you approach people because of what they can give you. that’s why you see groups of people your age flocking together - they grew up trained to sniff those with ill intentions and those with a mutual interest.

and usually, they’ve known each other at a very young age - the way you knew taehyung for as long as you can remember.

you have other friends too - or rather, they’re people you single out to be of no threat to your business and could even become partners someday. like sowon - her bright amber dress making it seem as though a ball of fire is flitting across the hall. you’re about to wave at her before you notice a more furious fire burns in her eyes.

“you bitch!”

all of a sudden, your neck is craned in an awkward angle. the blaze on your cheek settles a little later than the realization that sowon just smacked you right across the face yet when you turn back to her, hands clenching and unclenching in suppression of rising anger - she’s the one with tears in her eyes. “i trusted you.”

oh boy.

the host hasn’t even made his speech and the crowd’s already excited. the widespread whispers don’t go past you - some of the people in your periphery doesn’t even bother hiding leaning into the person next to them while stealing glances your way. but you doubt the woman in front of you would notice anyone here but you.

“ladies, there’s plenty of me to go around.” taehyung speaks from next to you, his smooth baritone echoing off and reaching anyone within five feet. you know he’s doing this to cover for any other possible misunderstanding - after all, this isn’t the first time you’re trapped in a scandal between taehyung and one of his girlfriends.

sowon loathes taehyung though.

but it doesn’t matter as long as everyone thinks it’s just another day of you getting in between the budding romance of taehyung and his female acquaintance. you can already see the expressions of the guests falling - probably disappointed at the not-so-news news. but there are also those who snicker underneath their breath - probably one of taehyung’s past acquaintances. it’s no secret taehyung would choose you over them in a heartbeat - and it’s been established when taehyung appears at a function with another woman once and appear to the next five with you until a new poor soul takes that woman’s place.

what can you say? your best friend’s a charmer. but the downside is, you don’t have that many female friends at functions. and one of the few you do have, you’ve managed to piss off.

sowon’s sniffle tears your attention away from the crowd. flushed cheeks and puffed eyes. you’re not close but you’re acquainted enough to know she’s a woman of pride and confidence. she wouldn’t lose her cool over a man - well, at least not a licentious man like taehyung. and that’s the only reason keeping you from bitch slapping the pride off her. the sting on your cheek is nothing compared to the injury your pride sustains - all because what’s left of your conscience wouldn’t allow you to return the slap.

deep down, you know you deserved it and more. your insides churn painfully. all of a sudden the dress around your body is two sizes too small. it’s suffocating - the whole room is suffocating.

“after everything i told you - you had to go for him?!” her scream could almost burst your eardrums if it isn’t for the blood rushing in your ears.

it’s easy to think she’s referring to taehyung. somewhere from across the room, the crowd starts clearing out a path - looks like the host has caught wind of the commotion sowon has caused.

you want to curse her too. hurt her with words as much as she hurt you with her physical assault. but instead you find yourself dropping your gaze.

“i’m sorry, sowon.” is all you say before mr. jung and his army of secretaries approach you and bring you two to different rooms. by the time dinner starts, sowon isn’t around - it’s understandable, her pride wouldn’t allow her to let these people poke fun at her.

but you don’t survive this world you’re born in by running away - you survive it by developing skin as untouchable as scales. so you stay until desert, smiling with a sore cheek and conversing with those who you know would be neutral about the incident, like nothing happened.

taehyung sticks closer to you. he doesn’t ask if you’re okay - you’re not. but when you tug on his sleeve and timidly murmur you wish to go home, he does so without hesitation. it’s times like these you’d choose him over the world.

the tabloids love gossip. a sensational, popcorn-worthy scoop. there are two divided groups thanks to that. the first one is devoted to the belief that it’s a love triangle between you, taehyung and sowon. the other one, choosing to dig deeper than what’s on the surface, believes it goes way back. ten years back.

“sorry, i should have told you sowon was my ex-fiance - it didn’t occur to me until i saw the articles that you two might meet at a function.” seokjin finally says, the strawberry ice cream beginning to melt in its paper bowl when he asked you to ‘at least, let me cure your injury,’ - you didn’t, in a - make that ten - million years picture it to be in a form of an ice cream bowl he bought from the mini convenience store next to the cafeteria. it was to hold it on your cheek but you couldn’t just let good food go to waste.

it hurts to even smile but you can’t help it at the thought of the rumored half-mad doctor using his break for something besides working some more. coupled with a shake of your head and the plastic spoon trapped in between your lips, you look just as insane.

your heart still clenches at the recollection of the other night, “i knew you two were engaged.”

his shoulder line straightens just the slightest bit as he lifts one eyebrow, not completely surprised but neither is he unfazed. so you continue, “it was by pure dumb luck that you turn out to be the best marriage prospect for me but i thought she was over it since it’s been years.”

there it is again, the churning in your stomach. like something’s eating you from the inside. if you focus enough, you can hear the voice inside your head scoffing - even if they’d just broken up yesterday, you still would have proposed to seokjin, maybe even the day after said break up.

this time, you don’t look away when his eyes meet yours. you let him strip your armor down to your very core. show him just what kind of person you are - the person who wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her ambitions. wouldn’t dwell cheap sentiments like friendship. even if that made you - as sowon would put it - a bitch.

then, he lets out a heavy sigh - the kind of sigh a parent would do when their kid got in trouble and admitted their fault. so now he can’t lecture you on morals and ethics because you have your own principles.

if anything, it reminds you of the glaring difference in your age - the things he’s already experienced that you’re about to someday. the betrayals. the broken friendships. the choices between what you want and what you need. he’s probably seen this all before.

“is an old man like me really worth all that trouble?” the tiniest of smile graces his strong feature. eyebrows wavering with something you can’t pinpoint.

“well, there’s a doctor - kim suho.” this time, you don’t bother pointing out his not-even-that-old age. the way his eye twitches barely noticeably tells you he doesn’t expect your answer. a moment later, it becomes too apparent, from his troubled expression - brows stiffed and jaws tight, that he doesn’t like the idea of you asking for another man’s hand in marriage. you have to tell yourself to refrain from smiling, not because your cheek might hurt again but because it’s probably not a good time to tease him.

deciding to release him from his own misery, you quickly elaborate, “but he has an average background - no matter how much experience he has, you don’t just get on your knees and start slithering with the snakes. you have to be born into the family. so yes,” you place your ice cream on the coffee table, hand pushing back a strand of hair to appear more delicate and win his favor while you let a furtive smile adorn your face - and there’s a smile he’s suppressing too because he knows what you’re trying to do, “this old man is definitely worth it.”

his shoulder line seems to ease up as he tries to hide a relieved sigh by clearing his throat. but it’s short lived when the crease between his brows returns and a newfound tension settles in space on the couch separating the two of you, “yes, but suho was never the one i should be on a look out for, was he?”

you blink but he’s already shaking his head. a smile on his face, “never mind.”

things seem to settle down - everyone at the hospital knows about you and seokjin now. and you’ve managed to convince him to finally use his off days to spend it on preparing for the wedding. cake tasting. dress and suit fitting. deciding on what color the napkins should be - a month ago, you approached seokjin with the mindset to make him agree to marry you. after all, prince charming was the one who had it all - it didn’t make sense to have cinderella do all the wedding planning.

he was mad at you for some reason - it lasted for quite awhile until you directly asked why he’d been given you the cold shoulders. “you keep playing a two man game by yourself.” he sighed when he said those words - because he saw in your eyes, that you thought there was nothing wrong to be finishing what you started by yourself, “we’re getting married - we’re gonna become a team yet you keep making decisions by yourself.”

ever since then, you started asking if he wanted to join you to the cake and dessert tasting, napkin color picking. you didn’t realize how nice it was to do things with another person than decide it on your own.

and somewhere along the way, you started teasing him more.

“if the saying ‘men age like fine wine’ is a person,” a grin slips over your face as you shamelessly give seokjin is a once over, “then you’d be the embodiment of that.”

he doesn’t seem to mind - rather, he seems like he’s enjoying the attention as he chuckles and shakes his head. probably thinking there’s no saving you and your compliments now.

“come here.” it’s the way he says it - with a smile on his lips and eyes that says you’re all he sees and hand extended to capture yours, that makes you jump from your seat. the front of the dress bunched up in your hands as to not trip over it and right into his arms. just like moth drawn to flames.

he pulls you up over the platform that he’s been standing on and lets you stand in front of him, hand on your shoulder as you stare in front of the 3 part mirror in the boutique. the dress you have on is a light gold dress with a sweetheart neckline that wraps around your curves flawlessly down to your knees and flow out like a mermaid’s tail. seokjin has on a traditional cobalt blue single breasted suit with three buttons fitting around his waist perfectly. his hair is gelled back the way you specifically requested.

he gave you a quizzical look as though wanting you to elaborate on your reason for that request but you’d only left him with a kiss on the cheek and a ‘see you on monday.’

if there’s one thing you learned about seokjin, it’s that he’s devastatingly unaware of his strong features that makes every woman’s legs turn to jelly and every man’s heart skip a beat. and he chooses to hide it under that usual middle parted style.

seokjin’s reflection bends down but his eyes remains on you as he whispers against the shell of your ears, “you look exquisite.”

you have half the mind to push him off and run away in case he’d ear the erratic beating in your chest but he probably already knows from the way you shyly look away. the you from a year ago would laugh at what you’ve become - the kind of girl that gets flustered and can’t form a proper sentence in the presence of a male. but before you can respond, a boisterous voice from the sofa you were sitting at, announces, “alright, next!”

your teeth clench together as you whirl around to face taehyung’s silly grin. that cockblocker - he knew you were having a moment and went out of his way to ruin it. “what are you even here for? don’t you have something better to do?”

for once, taehyung isn’t on his phone. you wouldn’t mind it so much if he’d just ignore you half of the time whenever you hang out. “your mom tasked me to find you a perfect dress since she can’t be here.” there’s a glint in his eyes - something ratchet and devious but his lips curve like that of an angel.

you don’t miss seokjin’s tightened jaw and stiff shoulder line as he helps you down the platform. ever since taehyung showed up ten minutes into fitting, seokjin’s expression has been switching from that suave smile to looking like he has a splinter stuck in his thumb - a human sized splinter that goes by the name of kim taehyung.

you never thought you’d live to see the day when kim seokjin would harbor any sort of animosity towards someone - he’s probably a strict supervisor, but resentful? can’t be.

you chalk it up with the plain fact that anyone who’s not head over heels for taehyung would want to skin him alive on the early stages of getting to know him.

“hm? seokjin’s not here yet?” you ask once you’re back from the fitting room, having slipped into an ivory trumpet shaped dress. it’s a much simpler design compared to the one you had on which makes it a perfect counter part for the after party. “that’s a first, the lady finishing first than the guy.”

“oh, it’s not that unusual.” taehyung snickers. guess that just shows how confident he is with his skills.

“i’ve never been this tired and i’ve only tried on three dresses.” instead of entertaining his remark, you choose plop down next to him.

“sparky, does he love you?” it’s that nickname that gets you.

there are only two circumstances where he would call you that: one, when he wants to annoy you and two, when he’s feeling nostalgic. guess it’s finally hitting him that you’re no longer kids chasing each other around in one of his mansions. you’re both grown up and one is trying out wedding gowns.

“uh, me and seokjin are about to get married, taetae.” you throw in a nickname of your own just to lighten up the mood.

but all it does is lift the corners of his lips into a wistful smile. and that’s how you know you can’t be telling your half-truths. and evading his question isn’t working all that well either. “it feels like we can talk about things more openly now - but no, i don’t think he does. he’s marrying me to become the next chairman and i’m after his money and maybe get a kid out of him too.” a knot forms in your stomach - something about what you said doesn’t sit well with you but this is what you wanted. this is what you prepared for the moment you decided to ask seokjin for his hand in marriage. you shouldn’t hope for more.

the laugh taehyung lets out is reactionary. humorless. “can’t you wait for me? i know i’m in no position to ask - but can’t you?”

two years and three months ago, when you were a little youthful, had a little more stars in your eyes - maybe you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. with every birthday you celebrate, fear rears its ugly head and reminds you that time isn’t an illusion and you know better than to bet on something - someone you're not sure you can win.

your heart aches a similar way it did two years ago - but you know now it’s not because it’s breaking to pieces. instead it’s hurting for the pieces of that young boy you could never hope to complete using yours. it took awhile but you know how to get back on your feet - but it’s not all that simple for taehyung. only he can fix his broken pieces.

“i stopped, taehyung,” you finally say, gaze burning holes inside the lace material of the dress, “the moment you told me you can’t - i stopped loving you. i’m glad i did because it wasn’t love. i was just scared to lose you like you’re afraid to lose me now,” you tug on his hand to get him to look at you and he does - all of a sudden, you’re both eight, inside your own bedroom with your dolls and his remote control cars strewn across the floor, “but you’ll always be my taetae and i’ll always be your sparky - i’m always gonna be here for you.”

you thought he’d changed. it’s nice to know he still uses a fruit scented shower gel when he brings you into a hug. the piercing sweet scent isn’t as strong as you remember it. the hug lasts a bit longer and his body is trembling slightly but you know it’s going to be okay - even if he packs up and leave for a foreign city like two years ago when you told him you loved him and you had to hunt him down through your wits and will (that damned private investigator accumulated a fortune to last him for probably ten years). at the end of the day, you’ll come back to each other. because the bond you’ve formed is thicker than the blood coursing through your veins.

“if he makes you cry, you come to me, okay?” you can’t even be mad when he ruffles your hair before picking up his blazer and shrugging it on. by the end of it, you’re both smiling - though his remains wistful, yours is sanguine.

it’s only after taehyung’s figure disappears through the door, do you notice the feeling of a pair of eyes burning holes inside your head.

“seokjin.”

the man is leaning against the door where his changing room is. you don’t need to ask why his brows are strained and the lips that would usually grace you with a smile, is pressed into a tight line.

“i never knew-” seokjin stops himself, lips pressed together as though he doesn’t want to say it, but he does with a shake of his head, “-no, i did know there was something between you and taehyung.”

you end up in seokjin’s apartment. the whole ride has been stiff silent. it’s the first you’ve seen him so disheveled. his tie hangs loose on his neck as though he’d yanked it without a care in the world and forgot about it. the first two buttons of his button down are undone. what once was his perfectly sleeked back hair disheveled from having been mussed up.

the hot chocolate seokjin made you is losing heat the longer you hold onto to it for the sake of having something to do with your hands. “i proposed to him two years ago and stopped loving him as soon as he turned me down - taehyung, he... he’s got a lot going on. that’s all i can say. i hope you don’t misunderstand what you saw.”

his eyes turn as round as saucers for the briefest moment before they flutter to their original almond shapes. shoulder line shaking from chuckling - but there’s nothing funny about any of this so you keep your eyes on him. if he needed confirmation of the truth you’re speaking, he need only search it in the windows of your soul.

“that’s very like you, ___.” he finally says.

you’re not sure what he meant but you’re not about to ponder on it either, “is there anything else you’d like to know about me, seokjin? there’s no reason for me to lie to you - we’re about to get stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. we should at least be able to talk about our past openly.”

when he doesn’t seem to have any other inquiry, you decide to let go of your pride - the reason you never asked was because you were too proud to be wrong. growing up, there were only a few people that you let poke fun at you and fewer you’d let prove you wrong. it dawned on you some time after you’re all showered and ready to go to bed one night - that you’re about to let seokjin waltz into your life and he’ll bear witness to your most intimate side. he’s about to be said one of the fewer people.

“then, my turn - why did you want me to stop attending social functions? i’ve been doing it my whole life - i’m good at it. and i’m not planning to stop just because i got married unless you have a proper reason for asking me to.”

the way his gaze drops tells you it wasn’t just a baseless request. you reach out across the counter, slipping your hands into his. that seems to have brought him back.

“my parents chose to attend a function instead of staying by my grandfather’s side even when the doctor told them he wouldn’t make it til morning - they weren’t even sorry. couldn’t even stay throughout the whole funeral.” he shakes his head almost as though being hung up over it was ridiculous yet couldn’t move past it either, “it’s ugly what too much wealth does - i just- i’m sorry i asked such a thing from you. it’s my own problem that i have to deal with, you don’t have to stop.”

it’s not hard to put yourself in his shoes. you understand where he’s coming from - you want to tell him that but somehow words are cheap. especially right in this moment.

so without thinking, you slip off the stool and walk around the counter until you reach him. the last thing you see before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your level, is his wondrous gaze.

the man doesn’t flinch away from your touch nor does he welcome it in any way. but the longer the seconds stretch on, the more you realize how idiotic and awkward it is to hug someone you barely know - it worked for taehyung but that’s only because he knew you preferred action rather than words.

“i’m not gonna stop completely but i won’t go as often - it’s getting boring anyway.” you nonchalantly say - or at least try to sound like you’ve lost interest in the function on your own. you haven’t been to any since that incident with sowon, waiting out for the rumors to die down is a better choice.

the body in your arms is unresponsive as ever - you would think you’re hugging a dead body if not for the heat of his breath fanning your delicate skin. maybe he’s just too nice to push a lady away. just as you’re about retract your arms, a warm hand rests on your hip. his touch is soft and gentle - as if he’s handling a porcelain doll while you’d just dragged him down to you without even considering how uncomfortable the angle would be given his tall broad frame.

his body vibrates when he lets out a short breath like a brief chuckle, “you’re very generous with your hugs.”

your brain short circuits when the man raises his head from your shoulder and rests his forehead on yours - it reminds you of how woman you are. even when he’s sitting he still hovers over you. his free hand cups your jaw, thumb lightly pressing on your lower lip. so this is what it felt like when your roles were switched - is he going to give you a false sense that he’ll kiss you the way you would him?

“may i?” he’s smiling when he repeats your own words - eyes trapping the ray of sunlight that pours over the wall-window like an illuminate waterfall. for the first time since you know him, you’re scared. not of what he will do but of what you want him to - but he won’t do.

your train of thoughts dissipates along with your worry the moment his lips touch yours. gentle. yet the hand pulling you into him is possessive. something in your stomach churns with butterflies.

you want to say you don’t know how you end up with your stomach pressed against his crotch or how his semi-hard arousal started rubbing into your abdomen. it’s supposed to be awkward but it isn’t and you know he’s refraining from addressing his aroused state to avoid making it uncomfortable for you - even though every time you shift and lean into him, you see his the gentle bob of his adam’s apple. it makes you want him even more. he leans into your touch as soon as you reach for him like moth drawn to flames.

“right.” he declares as if he’s been reminded of something when he comes in contact with one of the ridge of the rock on your middle finger. it’s your own engagement ring you ordered with seokjin’s. when the man spoke about getting you one, you’d held up your left hand and told him you already had one made. in fact, you never took it off since the day you put it on - which was the same day it came it.

understandably, you’re always wearing more than a ring on your hand - it’s easy to mix up between the ring from your personal collection or a ring of promise. especially when you didn’t tell him you got one made for yourself.

the hand on your cheek is warm as it brushes against your cheekbones, your rolls off his tongue like sweet honey, “what did i ever do to make you think i don’t love you?”

you blink once. you heard his words but your mind isn’t registering anything. but it seems your heart has seem to figure it out from the way it’s accelerating, you’re afraid seokjin might hear it. “wh-what?”

all of a sudden, you have this urge to pull the invisible blinds of his wall-window and hide from the peering rays of the sun. seokjin’s airy gaze. your fallen dress strap. the gentle protrusion in his pants. your own mussed up hair - you want to keep this moment all to yourself.

he pecks your forehead one last time. this lips curling into a smile - he knows you heard him. loud and clear and you have a feeling you’ll be hearing it at the most unpredictable moment from now on. so there’s no rush.

“where should we go for dinner?”

seokjin knows they call him the doctor version of a mad scientist. he knows a plenty of many things. like how he’s more strict with the junior physicians under his care. but that’s only because if he treats them below their potential, they’ll end up being that.

but the part where suho jokingly told him that he was crazy for working on holidays - maybe he was.

he’d moved out as soon as he turned 18 and eventually cut off his parents. before, even if it was just for show, he still got to see them during those functions they held.

but by the time he graduated college and started interning as a doctor - he was already erasing part of his existence. and his parents didn’t seem to notice. it made it cutting them off effortless.

but then, loneliness - pure, unadulterated loneliness started to sink its claws into him. so he turned to work even more. built his life around it.

by the time he became a fellow, he had absolutely zero social life. the only human interaction he had was with his patients - but they come and go. sure they’re grateful for him - and since the private hospital he’s working at is frequented mostly by the richest, he’d received gifts like cars or gold bars from one of his elderly patients who were convinced they were going to die - until they woke up from a successful surgery done by seokjin himself. but they eventually forget him.

and of course, he returned those gifts. he’d be no different than his parents - than the people he wished not to see anymore after he left that world. but the one thing he thought he wanted - the one thing he thought would make him happy, started to burn him out. every birthday was just a reminder that he’s half the age his soul is.

he’s worn and tired and losing sight of that man he told himself to be by a certain age.

that is, until you came along. at first, it was just courtesy that he listened to what you had to say - apparently you were the ceo. and quite literally, his boss. at first, he thought you were messing with him when you asked for his hand in marriage - no one just waltzes in and propose to someone they don’t know.

even those convenient marriages don’t go this way. but he’d accepted it anyway.

it has more to do with those eyes of yours than the chairman position. those eyes - they remind him so much of himself. the current him. except where his soul wanes, yours thirsts to thrive. like a dying cactus refusing to dry out.

you had thorns but picking them out wasn’t a problem - you’d been disconcerted at first but you’d quickly learn to use it to your advantage. telling him only the truth or nothing. since evasion and half-truths don’t work on him the way they would work on the people you probably surrounded yourself with. and he knew exactly what type of people they were.

eventually, you started telling him the blunt, honest truth. it threw him off a few times - like when you’d straight out told him that you knew who sowon was and still went for him. and that time when you admitted that he was the second man to receive your proposal - the first being that brat, taehyung. and then, you’d straight out asked him about why he didn’t want you attending functions anymore instead of ignoring his request like his parents would. or flip out of shame for having your lie found out. you were forbearing but firm. sometimes, it felt like you were much older than him.

but then you had a childish side to you too - it was food for his soul. every time he was with you, he felt like himself again. like that boy who applied for a job at the hospital with only his wits and his will backing him up. at first, he’d only saw that side of you in front of your most treasured people. your father. your mother. taehyung.

what you and taehyung have - seokjin will never come close to comprehend. a bond so strong, not even death could tear you apart. it became apparent too soon to seokjin that taehyung dominated parts of your life and he’ll only have a but a crevice of his presence in yours. your smile would always be a little brighter when you’re with the younger man. eyes always drifting away from him to taehyung.

and he was content with that but he thinks you’ve changed. or maybe it’s him that did. because you’re grinning at him now - like there’s something up your sleeves. and there is - his eyes widen at your brazenness. one minute he was admiring the way you lasted for hours in those heels that you just kicked off - you’d been wearing them starting from the ceremony to the reception and finally the after party but the next minute, you were grinning and pulling him with you down onto the velvet sheets. the your dress has ridden up to just below your knees in the process and seokjin’s caressing your exposed calf - he thinks you’re all the more delicate. your skin, too soft. he’s afraid he might bruise you.

“oh,” you speak into his mouth before pulling away without even a peck on his lips - but there’s a twinkle in your eyes when you pick up a small golden box that sat prettily on the night stand, “almost forgot. for you.”

“i didn’t get you a wedding gift.” he announces, pushing down the suspicion dominating his brain but how can he not pull out the ribbon to find out what you’ve prepared for him, when you’re looking at him like that? all grin and proud and saying something like you didn’t need one.

then his face falls and he’s looking at you deadpanned in the eye after noting the too familiar tablet of blue pills. but the frown doesn’t live long - he finds himself shaking his head. a smile wedging itself on his own face, “viagra. really?”

“better safe than sorry, right?” it's not right context - usually, a condom would be involved where that sentenced is used. but you know from seokjin’s dazed stare that he doesn’t get it - but he chooses to admire your features instead.

it takes everything in you not to bury your face in his chest just because his stare is making you feel like a high school girl with a crush. his eyes don’t make you want to reel away from him and cover every scar and lies with a thick blanket anymore. perhaps it has something to do with the fact that there isn’t any that he hasn’t seen. both your flaws and your virtue - if he wanted to run away, there were plenty of chances for him to do so but he stayed and now - now, you’ll never let him go. hold him captive in your castle, smooth criminal. you lean and press a kiss on his lips - just to make him close his eyes.

when you pull away, his lips chases yours. just like moth drawn to flames. you can’t help but giggle - it’s cut short when his hand weaves itself into your hair and bring you down to him.

you barely notice the hand that wraps around your wrist before your back hits the soft mattress. his shoulders appear more broad now that he’s hunched over you like a beast who hasn’t had a drop of water since the drought. at times like these you’re reminded of how man he is and how woman you are. a fact you seem to forget because he’s been playing along with your little games like a well-behaved child.

“hey, no fair!” lips pursed, you cross your arms in a show of protest. but he chuckles that soothing chuckle and he’s standing on his knees while the frame of his belt glints in warning.

your heart skips a beat at the sight of his arousal that was begging to be released from the confinements of his cobalt blue pants. the sigh he breathes out when he pulls down the zipper, sends shivers down your spine.but disappointment makes your face fall when he leaves it like that instead of pushing his pants down along with it.

that’s okay. you tell yourself. we’re married now-

you reach out for him only to have a hand wrap around your wrist, your fingers hovering achingly close to the gentle protrusion in his black boxers but not really touching.

you crane your neck to look at him but when your eyes meet, your words die in your throat. the smile is gone and in its place, is a tilted smirk, “are you sure? once we start i might not be able to stop.”

it’s that question that gets your heart writhing and crying to be set free from the confinement of your rib cages.

“seokjin,” the name tastes delectably sinful tonight, “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

maybe it’s the vow you’re making on the absolutely zero occasion where you’ve been this rapt by a man. maybe it’s your out of character use of the curse - that’s just how much you want this. or maybe it’s both. either way, seokjin’s gripping handfuls of your dress and you wordlessly raise your hands up for him to pull your dress off you.

it’s the way his eyes travel down your body. hunger. madness. lust. they meld together in those darkened eyes of his yet you’ve never felt so safe. he dives in for a kiss. this time, it’s raw and passionate and has no intention to stop halfway - not after he made it clear that he couldn’t and not after you pleaded for him to take you.

your white cotton bra is first to go - you only wore it because the straps won’t contrast too much with the strap of your dress. initially, you were going to tease him a bit and disappear into the bathroom to change into the lacy black lingerie set you’d specifically ordered to be custom made by victoria’s secret. but with the way he’s kneading your breast in his palm and the way you’re clawing against his clothed chest like a ravenous creature - the lingerie can wait.

“take off your clothes.” in your head, it sounded more demanding - but it comes out breathy and begging. a part of you chide yourself for waving the white flag before the game even began but another part of you is tired of being the only one bare and naked.

there’s a godless gleam in his eyes the moment he heard your request and you should have known seokjin wouldn’t make it that easy for you. this is karma coming back to bite you in your butt naked state after all those times you spent teasing the man and him accepting it without any complaint. you thought he was just mature enough to get over it. it turns out he was just a beast laying in wait to claim what he deserves, “what’s the magic word?”

“please.” you answer in a heartbeat.

that same heart stops beating the second he shakes his head. no. wrong answer. “the other one - do you really think i didn’t notice? the way you tease me - the way you know i won’t do anything about it because i’m older, i have to be a bigger person?”

that’s when your pride comes crashing in like tidal wave. walk away, it says. you take back what you said about having nothing to hide from seokjin - there’s one. and you thought you’d keep it with you. let it be buried in your grave. but he knows - like he knows every layer of your existence. your every desire and compulsion. it’s disgraceful and mortifying, for you. but seokjin holds your gaze and wait, wait, wait - he doesn’t seem to share your thoughts - doesn’t look disgusted either.

“daddy.” the moment the word leaves your mouth, you feel liberated. freed. like a long overdue confession. the pleased look on seokjin’s face is everything and more. “daddy, please.”

“as you wish.” he’s your liberator. your freer. and he’s about to grant your one carnal desire.

his clothes hit the ground within less than a minute. you can’t help but gawk at his perfectly sculpted physique. it’s like gods personally descended the heavens and blessed him in his mother’s womb and stayed by his side up until now - only for him to scorn them right in this moment. your body bounces off the bed lightly when his fingers dig in your thigh, pulling you closer like a ragged doll. a small yelp escapes you.

your panties are the last to go. discarded somewhere on the floor along with yours and his wedding attire.

the first whimper escapes the moment he slips into you, but not fully. he lets you take him in, get used to his size and directs your hand to his lips before placing it on his shoulder. as if telling you, you can hurt him, claw him until his back is raw and bleeding.

you wouldn’t at first - opting to keep your hands fisted while you try your hardest to suppress every moan that erupts from your mouth with every stroke. but then he hits that sweet spot. your back arches forward and you think it’s that moment when your fingers break the delicate skin on his back - but you can’t remember. it’s a blur - the electricity coursing from your heart through your veins and curls your toes. the stars you see in the back of your mind and the way you tighten around him when the delectable sound of his moans brushes the shell of your ear as he holds you against him.

he almost crushed him underneath his weight when he pulls out of you. the traces of his arousal pressing in between your bodies as he forces himself up by propping himself on his forearms. his labored breath fans your face and he’s all you see.

there’s still a surplus of tingle in your lower abdomen how high he takes you - almost like cloud nine. and you’re slick with sweat and body fluid but there’s no where you’d rather be than here, in your husband’s arms.

five months ago, you approached him with the objective of gaining a husband to take the chairman position and maybe give you the grandchild that your mother’s been asking you for. you didn’t expect for anything more than what you bargained for. but the first time he told you how he felt - you still didn’t believe him.

it was too surreal. and seokjin probably saw the tendrils of doubt every time he tells you how he feels - at the most sporadic moment. but he kept picking your thorns one by one like he could do this for a hundred years and more. you think i was that day when he found out about your past feelings for taehyung that he started. and he finally picked all of your prickly spikes - and now, he’s holding you like a child. head buried in between your breasts, muscled arms loosely hugging your waist. what a contrasting different to the man he was half an hour ago but so very seokjin of him.

the elated breath he lets out with his sigh is warm on your skin, “you know how to make an old man feel young.”

there he does it again. he’s been saying he’s old even though he’s only in his 30′s. at first you thought he was joking but over time - you think he truly believes he is. but when you agree with him-

“is your back okay? wouldn’t want your ancient bones breaking.” you pat his head sympathetically.

almost as if you’ve pushed a that button with a flashy warning red on it, his fingers twine around your wrist and pull it away from his head. the bed shifts as he hovers over you with an aggrieved glint, “i’m sure there are greater things that little mouth of yours can do than express your concerns for my back, sweetheart.”

your heart skips a beat.

epilogue.

you love being married.

not because you can strut to seokjin’s office and have everyone know you have every right to be there. nor because the board can’t really say anything since seokjin fits every characteristics of a chairman either. but because-

“we’ve been at it like rabbits,” seokjin shoulder line jolts slightly when your arms gently wrap around him from behind but there’s a sort of mirth laced in his voice, “you’re still not tired?”

“what ever do you mean, dear husband?” your voice is sweet but not entirely innocent.

sure, you did it an hour ago and you’re both supposed to get ready for bed but when you stepped out of the bathroom and find the bed empty, you had to wander outside. you know he’d be in the living room reviewing past years’ reports in his preparation to take on your dad’s position. he could just step up first and get familiar with his job along the way - but it wouldn’t have been very seokjin to enter the battlefield without polishing his armor.

he smells like peppermint and lavender. donning a plain white shirt and grey sweats - it’s the second most dressed down you’ve ever seen him in compared to the white-collars you’re so used to seeing him in. the first, being when he’s in bed, of course.

“okay, well, i’m going to bed first.” with a peck on his cheek, you bid him a good night.

but it’s not in your nature to give up without a fight - or rather, without sauntering in front him in your pastel pink camisole. you put on the a black and gold corset on your first monthivasery - it was just an excuse for you to try on the lingerie and it paid off. but there’s just something about camisoles - floral or plain pastels are what gets him prancing on you like a hungry beast. it looks like you’re not the only one with a fetish.

the cleaner comes in every twice a week and you’re not here enough to mess up the place except the master bedroom - like seokjin said, you have been going at it like rabbits. still, you bend down, making sure your ass is perked a little higher as you rearrange the picture frames on the rack under the tv.

a tune of your favorite song vibrates against your throat for thirty-six seconds before you straighten your back and begin to walk towards the bedroom. but something you caught in your periphery halts your steps, “did you just check out my ass then bite your lip? ‘cause if you did we’re having sex. right now.”

that seems to catch him off guard - you’ve been finding new and creative ways to get fucked. some worked. and by worked, you mean it had you moaning and writhing as he took you raw. some failed. meaning he had relented mainly because you were asking and he wanted to please you - at times like those, he was the one lying down, watching you ride him but halfway through, he’d pulled you down and started fucking you missionary because ‘you were good darling, but watching you makes me want to personally fuck you senseless. you can ride me next time, i promise.’

either way, your work life is superb and your sex life is out of this world. especially with a husband like seokjin. guess that dry spell has finally lifted and unleashed the hungry beast in him.

seokjin sighs, eyebrows coming together in a troubled frown but the lump in his pants say otherwise. “when you’re sore and need me to walk you to your office tomorrow, remember you asked for this.”

something in the pit of your stomach churns. your heart races with adrenaline as he takes two steps with those long legs of his and close the distance. a yelp escapes your lips, not expecting him to hoist you over his shoulder like you weight nothing and landing a smack on your ass like he’s reprimanding you.

“seokjin! put me down, i’m heavy!” you cry out, smacking his back in protest. when you wanted him to take you, this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind - it’d be a completely, perfect lie if you say you weren’t dripping with excitement.

“this way’s faster than your tiny little legs, darling.” you can hear the smirk in his voice before he kisses the exposed skin on your hip.

note: and that’s it. but it’s not over yet! there might be drabbles coming up on our fav couple’s adventure as they try to get preggo lmaooo also i’ll be doing a ‘story time’ where i talk about the background of this fic - what inspired me to write it, why i titled it like the way i did and i’d like to dissect and oc and tae’s relationship and so much more. send me an ask if you have something in particular you want me to address from the fic!

if you like this fic feel free to check out namjoon’s version called good guys finish last. i’m also planning to turn this au into a series for every member. taehyung or yoongi will be next!

#bts smut #kim seokjin smut #bts seokjin smut #bts #kim seokjin #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin scenarios #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin scenarios #bts seokjin scenarios #bts seokjin fanfic #bts seokjin fic #bts x reader #bts x yn

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nuricurry · 3 years

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Saint Seiya | Shura, PG-13; "see what's inside"

He still remembers what his father used to tell him about fear. “It’s better to be feared than to be loved. Love is weak. Love is fickle. Fear isn’t something that goes away.” He thinks his father probably has a point. After all, it wasn’t love that kept his mother around. It wasn’t love for his anger, love for how he would break things, love for the horrible things he said to her, or the bruises he left on her face and her arms. It was fear that kept his mother close, fear that stopped her from running away. It wasn’t that his mother loved his father enough to have his children. It was that she was too afraid to refuse him. It wasn’t that she loved Shura enough to stay behind, when she should have tried to get away. It was that she was afraid of what worse his father would do to him if she left. Fear was a powerful tool. It was a weapon with no shield, a toxin with no cure. It was the vorpal sword, the unbreakable steel. It had no equal, and it had no conqueror. Fear lived in the hearts of all men, and that was why it could never truly be erased.

The first time he learned that he was capable of causing fear was the day he finally stood up to his father. It is all a blur to him now. There was a fight, he thinks, though there was always a fight. His father yelling. His mother sobbing. The thick, meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh. He sees his hands, his face, he sees the blood, and that’s all he sees, until he lifts his head, and catches sight of his mother’s face. He sees the fear in her eyes, and that’s all he remembers. That’s all he has to explain why he was taken away, why leaves home, and becomes part of Sanctuary. He’s eight when he begins his training. A late bloomer, some of the instructors call him, as if he was always meant to be where he was, he just took longer than others to get to the same place. That’s a nice thought; better than what he thinks is the reality, that he is here only because he had nowhere else to go. In Sanctuary, he’s taught about Athena. He learns that she is a force of peace, of goodness. That she encourages trust and faith, she does not ask for fear. He likes to hear about Athena. He likes to learn about a goddess who offers hope, someone who rules out of love, rather than a desire for control. (Maybe, he thinks to himself, that is what his father would have been like, if he knew how to love, instead of how to invoke fear.) Training for him comes easy. It’s patterns. It’s structure. It’s the same thing every day. It’s secure. After spending the first several years of his life in constant chaos, the confines of rituals come as nothing short of a relief. He wakes up at the same time every morning, he eats his meals, attends his classes, does his chores, all on a cycle, it becomes familiar, safe, and he relishes in that. Developing his skills fall into that same pattern; it’s a process that builds upon itself. Each day he gets stronger, and each day he learns more. It takes time, but there’s a linear progression, there’s a predictable trajectory, and it’s seeing those changes that motivates him. It also helped that Aiolos always encouraged him too. Aiolos is older than him, more experienced, more confident. Aiolos is loved in Sanctuary, admired, and Shura is no exception. Aiolos has an easy smile, a warm laugh, Aiolos is someone who is easy to love, because there is nothing about Aiolos that isn’t loveable. When Aiolos earns his cloth, he’s humble, but proud. He thanks Pope Shion for deeming him worthy. He thanks Athena for allowing him the chance to serve her, even though her new incarnation is not yet born. He thanks his teachers for guiding him on his journey. Later, he thanks Shura for believing in him, and for the gift he brings him after the ceremony is over, and the crowds have dispersed. He is fifteen when he first thinks he understands love. He is young and naive and punch-drunk, when Aiolos places a hand on his shoulder and calls him his friend, when he says that he looked for him in the crowd after he earned his cloth, hoping to find Shura there with a smile on his face. He thinks he knows what it means to love someone in that moment, because he loves Aiolos’ smile and he wants to protect his laugh, and he dreams of the life where the two of them can be saints together, where he can learn more about love. It isn’t until Shura earns his own cloth, it isn’t until he learns the weight of the duty that comes with being a saint of Athena, that he realizes that sometimes, loving someone is what leads to fear. ”He betrayed us. He betrayed Athena.” He doesn’t want to believe it, because he loves him. He chases Aiolos down with a weight pressing down in his chest because he doesn’t want to be proven wrong. He loves Aiolos, and it’s that love that makes him hesitate, when he finally confronts him, and sees him with that baby cradled in his arms. Aiolos’ body lies at the bottom of a ravine and he is the one that put him there because of his fear. His fear that if he stopped and asked Aiolos to explain, he would learn that his love was misplaced, that love alone was not enough to keep even Aiolos from failing

in his duty. He learns to fear himself after Aiolos. Though, perhaps he always feared part of himself. He thinks back to his childhood, to the last day he can remember seeing his father. The day with the blood, the day that his mother looked at him with fear in her eyes. She must have known what he was, before even he did. It doesn’t matter, he decides in time. His father had a point. Fear is better than love. With fear, he knows what to expect. With fear, there’s no surprise when it hurts, when it backfires, when it stings. “Anyone ever tell you that you think too hard about the stupidest shit?” Deathmask is blunt, crass, and unpleasant. But he’s honest, and Shura can respect that. At least, as much as he can respect anything about Deathmask. Their methods are too different, their standards too opposite. But he is a gold saint all the same, he earned his place the same as Shura, and so he doesn’t challenge him, nor does he refuse his company when it’s imposed upon him. Deathmask buys them alcohol, and by that, he means that Deathmask steals liquor from the bar in the small town just beyond Sanctuary’s borders. Deathmask has long legs and broad shoulders and he hasn't looked a day under nineteen since he hit his first growth spurt at eleven; when he was fifteen he could pass for a solid twenty-three if he tried. So he doesn't have to steal the beer, he could just buy it. But that means having money, at least enough money to buy beer and weed, and Deathmask, who is a weed-smoking shitlord, never has enough money to ever buy anything 'and weed' at the same time. He has his priorities, and they include going to Athens to get a bunch of weed, then stealing cheap vodka before returning to Sanctuary, and harassing Shura in his temple.

“Don’t be jealous because you’re incapable of thinking at all, Deathmask.” Aphrodite joins them sometimes. If there’s alcohol, always, but if there’s not, sometimes. He seems more fickle about company, more selective with his time. Deathmask likes to fill the days with anything that catches his interest, while Aphrodite curates his diversions. How the three of them became...whatever they were, he still doesn’t know. It just became routine at some point, it just became part of the fabric of his day. Like his training, like his chores, like his guilt, spending time with them was a habit now, it was something that he does without thinking about it. Not that all habits are healthy. He trains his body until it bleeds. Until the muscles of his shoulder are torn and the bone dislocated. He hones his weapon to be razor-sharp, and he does not care about the cost. He only notices that it’s strange when someone else points it out to him, when he’s bent over Deathmask’s back, and Aphrodite presses his lips to the maligned blade of his shoulder that is pressed taut against his skin. “Why do you do this to yourself?” Aphrodite asks later, as they’re lying on their backs, and the room smells like sweat and sex. He doesn’t know what encourages him to be honest. Perhaps it’s the pot, or the booze, or the sex. Perhaps it’s the need to get the words out of his mouth, because he’s afraid if he keeps them inside they’ll start to rot where they’re lodged behind his teeth. “Because I am afraid of what will happen if I don’t.” Neither says anything for some time after that, not until Deathmask can no longer bear the silence, and mutters, “That’s fucked up.” He notices it after a while, how after his moment of honestly the way Deathmask seems to be afraid to touch him at times. How when they walk beside one another and their knuckles bump, the backs of their hands brush, his hand will hover, not touching him, but lingering, almost as if waiting for some sign to do more. He will touch Shura’s back when he walks behind him, alerting him to his intention to pass by, but it will be just a quick skirting of his fingers over the collar of his shirt. Not touching him directly. Not establishing full contact. He doesn’t say anything about it, at least not to Deathmask. What he does is speak to Aphrodite, in hushed tones late at night, when the two of them are standing together on watch, looking out from the highest peak of Sanctuary to the valley of buildings below. The flickering of torches in windows and along rocky trails are like a mirror reflecting the sky above, and it’s a quiet time, a peaceful time, where there is nothing but the two of them and the soft, warm Greek wind blowing their voices out into the ether. “He’s an idiot,” Aphrodite says simply, as if there is no other explanation needed. As if that excuses everything. And, maybe to him, it does. He has low expectations of Deathmask’s emotional intelligence, and therefore can’t be disappointed if he never meets them, and can be pleasantly surprised if he surpasses them. It’s a method of self-preservation that he never quite mastered. “He’s afraid of me,” Shura corrects him. Aphrodite says nothing, he just lifts a hand upwards, slender, deft fingers tucking a stray strand of pale hair behind his ear. He isn’t looking at Shura, he’s looking at those hundreds of star-torches, he’s making constellations of the lights in Sanctuary’s windows, and avoiding Shura’s eyes. “Are you afraid of me too?” “No.” It isn’t said in a rush. It isn’t fired out of his mouth like a bullet, he doesn’t say it quickly just to prove that it’s true. His voice, that low, melodic timbre, is quiet, the sound soft but clear. It always feels as if he is whispering into Shura’s ear even when he’s several feet away, and right then is no different. Except he does step forward, he moved in close, and it’s Shura that those pianist fingers of his touch next. He slips his hand between his back and the waistband of his pants, then turns it around and moves it up, into his shirt, following the column of his spine.

Shura can’t help but shiver, gasp, from both the touch, but also the cool wind that blows against his skin, sneaking in between the gaps in his clothes that Aphrodite makes. His nails, long, filed smooth but still sharp, dig into the meat of his shoulder blade, and then Aphrodite’s chin is on his shoulder, and his lips against his ear. “I’m not afraid of you,” he says again, “The only thing that could ever frighten me would be you realizing what I am actually afraid of.” “What is that?” he asks softly, because he needs to know. Aphrodite only smiles before kissing him, and never answers his question.

#saint seiya #fanfiction #capricorn shura #gold saints #pisces aphrodite #cancer deathmask

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yeonchi · 3 years

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Kisekae Insights #24: GJ Club - how a spinon became a spinoff featuring Kyōya and Kasumi Shinomiya

(Art by 結城辰也)

The Kisekae Insights series has allowed me to bring the spotlight back on Waifu Network animes that I haven’t posted much about in the past due to lack of fanart or lack of interest. Like Hidamari Sketch in the last instalment, GJ Club will be no exception until I continue posting the usual content in my anime posts. Honestly, it was good while it lasted.

While Hidamari Sketch is a fairly popular and notable anime, GJ Club, sadly, isn’t. The anime was adapted from the light novel series written by Shin Araki and it only received one 12-episode season in 2013 and an OVA in 2014. Since it is a slice-of-life series, not much is known about the characters’ histories, which made it very easy to adapt into my personal project. All these factors coinciding with it being the 50th anniversary year of Doctor Who made GJ Club the perfect anime to adapt and expand on.

Background information

For some reason, the light novel has been a bit hard to find. In short, while you are able to read it online, the sources are unfortunately scarce.

From 2013 to 2015, NanoDesu Translations posted translations of the light novel. They published a PDF and EPUB of the first volume (which is available on archive.org) and translated up to Chapter 17 of the second volume. It was then abandoned for two years before Haraguro Scanlations picked it up. As of September 2018, they only finished up to Chapter 3 of the third volume (with the first chapter being translated by Shadowys on Baka-Tsuki) and there are no further updates after that, with the exception of a one-off chapter released in November 2020.

As of August 2021, however, all the original translations by NanoDesu seem to have been deleted from their site. All the translations are available on AsiaNovel, but there are no illustrations because the reader doesn’t seem to support images. If the images weren’t discarded in the code of the novels, then all they would need to do is add support for them and then they would appear.

There are 9 volumes and two special volumes for GJ Club along with 8 volumes and a special volume for its middle school spinoff. It’s honestly telling how popular the series was when the translators have all but abandoned it.

Shin Araki also wrote an additional spinoff to GJ Club, namely GE: Good Eater, and a sequel, namely KB Club. GE is set in a fantasy world with the characters being based off the characters of GJ Club, while KB Club turns everything meta by having both series be the creations of a high school light novel club, with the characters of GJ Club being based off the members of said club, right down to their names. Honestly, I’m not a big fan of that approach given how I’ve adapted GJ Club into my personal project. In the end, I guess we’ll never really know what happens in the novels, but at least we have this.

Watching the anime and listening to the character music was how I first realised that anime was sexist to males because of the female-centric focus in most animes. Kyōya only gets one character song in the series, and even then it’s a duet with Megumi. If that isn’t sexist to you, then I don’t know how I can convince you that a lot of animes are sexist.

In January 2015, I published two posts outlining my idea for an English dub of the series that also fits with GJ Club’s depiction in my personal project. The setting would be changed to London, England, specifically the areas of Chiswick, Ealing and Acton (where their school is located) and the characters would speak with British accents. The images in the original post are dead because I idiotically copied the images from the site instead of saving and reuploading them to the post, but since I’m grubbing for content anyway, I’m going to repost my character details as follows:

Kyōya: The protagonist of the series. When he started Year 10, he was kidnapped by the girls when he walked into an old school building, hoping to find the Culture Club. He moved to London from Manchester just before he started Year 7. His best friend outside the club is someone named Tesshin Yokomizo (横溝徹心) who is a local and not seen in the anime. In the GJ Club, he is nicknamed “Kyoro” and despite his spinelessness, he seems to have talent in dealing with the girls around him. His birthday is December 18. Due to a crisis involving his family during his childhood, he and his sister Kasumi were left in the care of a family guardian just before they moved to London, but she left when Kyōya started Year 10. It might have been that childhood incident that emotionally scarred him and left him spineless…

Mao: The Year 11 president of the GJ Club. Her family is rich and they live in a mansion in Ealing. She has a habit of biting and picking on Kyōya when she is bored or angry. She always reads books and watches shows without kissing scenes.

Shion: The only daughter in her family, Shion is an expert chess player with many brothers, all experts in some kind of activity. She speaks in a Birmingham (Brummie) accent because her mother and a few of her brothers were born in Birmingham. It is unknown if Shion was born in Birmingham herself.

Megumi: The calm and nice middle sister of the Amatsuka family. She likes knitting and she is always seen making tea and cakes in the club room. In the same year level as Kyōya.

Kirara: Born in Swansea, Wales, Kirara is the tallest and strongest member of the club. She speaks English in simple, monotone sentences. Welsh is her first language. Kirara can be seen eating meat, sometimes sharing it with Kyōya, but not with anyone else. She is afraid of spiders and has little tolerance to alcohol.

Tamaki: (voiced by Karen Gillan!) The newest member of the GJ Club when Kyōya becomes a Year 11 student. Like Kyōya, she is kidnapped and forced to join the club. Her nickname is “Tama”. Her family is from Glasgow and they run a Shinto shrine in Acton. She has several younger siblings.

Kasumi: Kyōya’s younger sister, who was born in Manchester. After a visit to the GJ Club, she becomes inspired to start a middle school division when she starts Year 7. She has a brother complex and she mistook Mao for being a primary school student when she met her. Her proficiency in Welsh is better than her brother’s, who can probably speak at a beginner level.

Geraldine: Shortened to “Jill”. She moved to Chiswick from Swansea to be with her sister, Kirara. She first met Kyōya at Ealing Broadway Station when she had difficulty buying a Tube ticket. She didn’t really understand how to use the ticket machine, so Kyōya went to help her. After this, Jill considered Kyōya her “samurai master”. Jill doesn’t speak English fluently, so she relies on her whiteboard to communicate with the others. She is as strong as her sister and she joins Kasumi’s GJ Club when she starts Year 7 in Chiswick.

Seira: The youngest sister of the Amatsuka family. Though she speaks in a typical London accent, she sometimes talks through her cat clip in Received Pronunciation (the Queen’s English/RP) using ventriloquism to state her true feelings to Kyōya, who she has a grudge against.

Mori: The maid of the Amatsuka family. She likes to ride a motorcycle. A running gag is her twirling before Kyōya much to his pleasure and annoyance to the rest of the club members. Sometimes, her mother takes her place without the family even noticing due to their identical appearance.

Kyōya, Kasumi and Momoka: The Brother, the Child and the Yandere

Normally in previous instalments, I would have described each character separately, but because their backstories are heavily intertwined, I will introduce them all at once in this section. Most of the backstory takes place around the Battle of Koshi Castle in December 2013 and during the Manchester Campaign of 2005-2013, which I have already covered in #15.

When Hiroki Ichigo’s twelfth incarnation was killed at Koshi Castle, he managed to escape in his TARDIS, where he regenerated into his new prototype, namely a four-year-old Kyōya. The TARDIS crashes outside North Manchester General Hospital on 11 December 2005.

Earlier, Hiroki and Akari’s gametes (along with those of Hiroki’s brothers and their families) were taken by Reona Yukawa and placed in the Progenitor so that they could breed super-soldiers out of them. When Takumi Kamijō and Kyōko Sakura manage to escape from their cells (saving Nodoka Manabe and Azusa Nakano in the process), he changes the destination of the baby about to be released into the Progenitor’s time portal. That baby was Kasumi, one of the super-soldiers grown from Hiroki and Akari’s DNA. She ended up at the same hospital as well and was about to be taken home by a couple when Girl Power killed them, resulting in Kasumi being taken by Akari and Shaun.

What remained of Hiroki was contacted by the spirit of Walpurgisnacht. Making a deal with her, Hiroki regenerated into his thirteenth incarnation, the female Momoka Mizutani. No, Momoka is not an OC for GJ Club, but she is based on the character of Apple Lam Chung-yan from the TVB drama A Great Way to Care II, played by Tavia Yeung. Momoka takes Hiroki’s TARDIS and heads to Salford, where with the help of Walpurgisnacht, she establishes a cha chaan teng café in the middle of a trading estate and hires a group of red drone Daleks as her workers, hiding their identities by having them disguise themselves as humans.

Over the next eight years, Momoka gets close to the new Shinomiya family by influencing them through Kyōya’s dreams to come to her café. Eight years later, on 11 December 2013, the Fourth and Fifth Doctors come in with their companions. When the Shinomiya family come in, a confrontation with Ayaka Kikuchi and her army ensues before Momoka transmats the Shinomiya family to a Dalek spaceship, where she prepares to execute them using the Yashio’ori. However, the Yashio’ori is sabotaged by the enemy army so that the laser beam would not charge.

As Ayaka and her army attack the Dalek ship, Momoka uses the Dalek-enhanced machine guns to fend them off. While two Doctors confront the Master, Momoka is killed by Girl Power officers, resulting in Walpurgisnacht taking over her body as she regenerates, maintaining her current appearance. Read #15 to find out what happens after this.

Once the Battle of Koshi Castle and the Manchester Campaign conclude, the Fourth Doctor helps Kyōya and Kasumi move to Chiswick in 2008. Five years later, the events of the GJ Club anime take place. During his time in Chiswick, Kyōya gets a job at the post office there and later, studies a double degree in Japanese Studies and Politics at SOAS in the University of London while also learning Cantonese, Mandarin and Welsh in weekend and evening courses (apparently he also wanted to learn Taiwanese but they weren’t running any courses, but that’s alright, he can always learn it somewhere else, which he presumably did).

On a side note, I volunteered myself to be Kyōya’s English voice actor, so I’ve practiced my Mancunian accent by watching actors like Christopher Eccleston, Stephen Tompkinson, Karl Pilkington and maybe a bit of Peter Kay as well. The only problem was that I’m not even sure that my accent is even Manc because I can’t tell if I’m getting it wrong and sounding like someone from Liverpool, Yorkshire, Newcastle or even Scotland. Oh well, that’s what happens when you really get into things.

I don’t buy expansion packs, I make my own (budget allowing)

So as I said, GJ Club only got one season and an OVA to go with it. Do Kyōya and the GJ Club make further appearances in the series? You bet your ass they do.

After being absent for much of the Next Gen Series in 2014, Kyōya and Kasumi receive a letter from their aunt, Narutaki, asking to meet in Hong Kong after their mother, Akari, went missing following the Siege of Ōsaka, only to be followed by Mao and the rest of the GJ Club, who learnt where he was going and managed to get on the same flight as them.

Narutaki, who had taken her Girl Power friends and established a rogue faction separate from the main group, takes the GJ Club to Nijō Castle, where she explains the background behind the Manchester Campaign and the events of Series 8 and 9. Soon after, Girl Power’s commander, Daniel, sends his brother, Nathan, out to find Narutaki. Kyōya tries to contact Hiroki, but he is unable to get through to him. Luckily, the TARDIS arrives and the Doctor and Hiroki help Angela and the others repel the attacking Girl Power forces. Some more things happen and by the end of the story, we learn that Kyōya and Mao are dating.

That Christmas, Kyōya and Kasumi head up to Manchester, but the Doctor briefly takes them and their friends back to Hong Kong for a picnic with Hiroki and the rest of the Zhuge family.

A few years later in 2018, the GJ Club and Momoka get a cameo at the start and end of the Gokaiger TV movie special. By this point in time, Momoka’s café in Manchester has expanded to many other branches around the UK and in Hong Kong.

The next year in 2019, Kyōya, Kasumi, Mao and Megumi are featured in a four-part adventure in Soulbound Series 3, helping the cast solve the mystery of Parker’s past and Shinbu’s origins. Two years after in 2021, Kyōya and Kasumi move to Hong Kong (along with the GJ Club) and join the Superhero Project as the new ShinkenRed and ZyuohTiger. You’d think Kyōya would be against violence given his harmless tendencies, but I suppose his character has developed over the years despite having abandonment issues.

So this has been the involvement of GJ Club in my personal project. It’s a shame the series wasn’t more popular or it could have gotten a second season, a manga, more (and frequent) translations of the light novel or hell, even a licenced release. This series is just like Sea Princesses in how popular it was, but despite the number of episodes the anime got, at least Shin Araki hasn’t abandoned the series (by putting it in a spinoff no less) unlike Fabio Yabu, who hasn’t made anything new for Sea Princesses since 2010 after getting more animated episodes than GJ Club did. On the other hand though, neglected series with little material has been good development fodder for my personal project as it allowed me to bring awareness to the existence of those series while also developing backstories and afterstories for them.

#kisekae insights #gj club #doctor who

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demauryss · 4 years

Text

for mtea @bluronyourradar. based on her tags on this post. i had minimum knowledge of how speed dating works so i wrote what came to me with the bit of research i did!!! i hope you like this and i’m sorry for taking too long!!

slow motion (i’m watching our love) 💌 | 3.9 k

in which there’s speed dating, some unexpected friends, a brief stint of matchmaking and a whole lot of sunshine smiles.

Lucas didn’t know what he was expecting to happen when he’d agreed with Mika to come to this … event or whatever it was. Because apparently Lucas was like a house plant Mika had got and forgot to take care of – and now it was starting to rot and needed someone to looks after it pronto.

That had been Mika’s analogy in trying to convince Lucas to try speed dating. Something he hadn’t heard of before. And with the promise of Mika buying all of Lucas’s groceries for the month if he came, Lucas had landed himself in this place. And it was the most recent thing he was regretting.

It’ll be fun, I promise!

It’s stupid, is what it is.

He didn’t know what to expect – but it was certainly not resorting to hide in a corner away from Mika’s prying eyes after talking with a total of four people – and being a witness to a very explicit kiss.

He wasn't thinking he'd get anyone when he had agreed to this, if you ask him. His thought process has been more towards getting through the evening with avoiding as much human interaction as he can. But in a succession of events, Mika had dragged him to a table, and Even, taller than nine of Lucases combined and eyes which was the reason why Lucas's tongue had forgot to form words, had approached him, and that was the first negative spike in his brain's specified compartment for dread.

They had talked for eight minutes before the bell rang and Even moved on to the next person. Lucas had learnt he was from Oslo; in his second year of college. He seemed nice, if those eight minutes were anything to go by, and totally someone Lucas would probably consider himself with.

But there was something nagging inside his brain.

So he'd smiled as Even had left. Totally chiding his brain for worrying about lost potential when there were more pressing matters to discuss. Like why the next person coming after Even looked like a live incarnation Jack Frost. His name was Sander, and he was a David Bowie enthusiast. And then had come Nico and David, one after the other.

And if it hadn't been for the way his stomach had crumbled at the thought of being with any of them -that he was slowly feeling his insides coming to his throat whenever he as much as smiled at them, that there was this empty hollow feeling inside of him as he sat talking to them despite his brain accepting them to be nice as the first thing it made sense of – Lucas wouldn’t be sitting here in his natural habitat being miserable at cursing his luck.

But as it happens – there was something nagging inside his brain. A black space. A variable entirely missing from the equation.

Lucas looks around the multitude of people all in an assortment of fading lights and a cacophony of voices all going over his head of people conversing. Lucas has never been good at that part, and that's why he finds it all so surreal to see. And it’s between that, hiding from Mika and cursing his fate, that there’s a mild commotion behind him. It would have been impossible to separate it from the discordance around him, had it not been for the way the reason the said commotion is created comes to where he’s sitting in the corner. Lucas, without meaning to, trains his ears on – he does a quick counting in his head – four people.

“I’m just saying,” One of them says, rubbing a hand over his neck. He looks like how Lucas feels after having to deal with a stupid customer on the phone – which is a story of a daily basis, “If you want to find a match, then maybe you should try and – I don’t know – talk to someone! ---

“Shut up Marti! This whole concept is stupid.” The one Lucas assumes to be Isak snaps. He looks tired, and Lucas really can’t argue with that sentiment.

“But it won’t hurt you to try?” Marti begins as a final resort. Isak only glares at him, “I don’t know what you think, but going on a date once doesn’t make you a relationship expert.”

“And especially when you call us in the middle of it to help you fake an emergency so you could run away.” The third person speaks, and Marti turns his murder filled eyes towards him. Lucas watches, heart somewhat lighter, as Marti just about digs the grave of the person in front of him.

“I like you better when you’re stoned, Matteo.” Marti grumbles, and the person in question turns starry eyed towards him, his tongue peeking out as he takes a gulp of the liquid in the glass he’s holding. These people remind Lucas of his own group of friends, those he hasn’t seen in months. With Yann and Basile both gone to spend the summer with their grandparents and Arthur on that science camp he signed up for ages ago – it has been quite some time since he last saw of them.

And now he misses them, terribly.

Marti looks at his friends disapprovingly as Isak and Matteo and the quiet friend whose name Lucas hasn’t got yet fail to hide their laughs at Marti’s distraught expression. He sighs, turning sideways and catching Lucas’s eyes. Lucas feels heat crawling up his neck spreading over his face at the thought of being caught in listening to someone else’s conversation. His initial reaction is to looks away, but his brain prevents him from doing so. Whatever, it’s too late now.

To his surprise, Marti addresses him like he’s talking to an old friend or something. “Please help me clear a point to these idiots,” he begins, “I’ll owe you forever.”

As if on cue, three pairs of eyes turn towards him in sync. Lucas gulps down whatever he was feeling earlier at being caught. “I’m sorry I can’t do that,” Lucas starts, feeling foreign being the subject of unknown gazes.

“Because you also think it’s stupid, right?” It’s Isak who begins with a hopeful cadence in his tone. Marti frowns at him, and Lucas sends a small smile in his direction.

“Well, there’s no denying that.”

The yell that breaks past Isak’s lips as he jumps in triumph raises several eyes in their direction. Lucas chuckles, apologetically looking at Marti who’s watching everything with a scowl on his face.

“I knew you were one of us,” Isak gestures to himself and the two people standing behind him. He looks out into the ground, pulling a sour expression on his face, “No sane person would be willing to spend an entire evening out there. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell this idiot here. But I think he gets it now. Do you, Marti?”

Marti, who has turned his head away from them, grumbles childishly, “Whatever. You guys don’t care for me.”

Isak laughs, and it’s Matteo who comes forward at that instant, wrapping an affectionate arm around Marti’s neck. “Don’t be like that, Marti. We do care for you!”

“Yeah. You’re the one who opens all of our jars when we need them.” The quiet one steps forward, and Lucas watches with Isak next to him. He heaves a sigh, before rolling his eyes, “Yeah yeah, now you can stop being a diva-” he turns to Lucas, “-he’s just being dramatic. Ignore him.”

Lucas laughs, now all unease under the guise of the nervousness which comes from meeting these people. Isak steps forward, taking a seat next to where Lucas is sitting. His friends follow, and soon he’s include in a circle of unknown people in a place he’d rather bolt out of.

“If we’ve reached an agreement here,” Isak pointedly says towards Marti, who is busy drilling holes in his skull. There’s light music present in the air around him, filled with occasional ringing of bell. Lucas ignores it and focuses on Isak. “I’d like to formerly make an introduction. I’m Isak, that’s Marti, Robbe and Matteo, and we’re seriously not having a good time right now.”

Lucas grins, “I’m Lucas, and you can count me in that.”

“Then what brings you here, Lucas?” It’s Robbe – the quiet one – who asks him that. His eyes have a kind look in them, and it’s accentuated by the light hanging over his head.

“My roommate,” Lucas sighs, “He works here, and he kind of convinced me to come and by convinced I mean he offered to buy my groceries for the month, so.”

They laugh, even Marti, who lets his annoyed expression slip for a minute before picking it up again as if nothing happened. It does occur to Lucas that he’s basically oversharing to a bunch of random people he just met. But the thought evaporates when they smile together, a familiar glint to all of their eyes. Lucas follows the warmth and soon, he finds himself getting enveloped.

Matteo smiles, “I was tagged into this Instagram post and someone thought it’d be a good idea to try this out.”

“And I still stand by it,” Marti somewhat grumbles. Lucas chuckles as Isak shakes his head at him. Robbe pats him on the back as Marti turns to Lucas.

“Please tell me you atleast talked to people before forming your opinion instead of criticizing from afar like some people here.”

“Hey!” Isak, Matteo and Robbe shout in unison. Lucas smiles, shaking his head. “Yeah I did meet some people but –“ Lucas shrugs, “-they were not someone I’d consider eating a pizza with brought from my roommate’s money.”

“That makes a lot of sense. Why didn’t I think of it before?” Matteo asks Robbe, who just shrugs. It Marti who bites back, “Because you’re stupid, that’s why.”

Lucas looks between them, as Isak raises his hand, high-fiving Marti over Lucas’s head. This night is going to be fun.

Some twenty minutes later, and Lucas is now a member of a groupchat with the four people whom Lucas can now almost call him his friends. (They’ve exchanged numbers, followed each on Instagram, exchanged pretty heavy details of their lives and exchanged some solid opinions on the people they’ve found mildly interesting.)

Now he and Matteo are surveying the crowd, finding someone suitable for Isak to go and talk to since his great epiphany seconds ago about not wasting any chance he’s presented with. (Marti had the most smug ‘I’ve been saying it for ages’ look on his face which Isak had wiped away with a middle finger raised in his direction.) Robbe and Marti were helping them, but it wasn’t up to any use since so far Isak had rejected hundred percent of the guys they had picked, all with the same monotonous ‘I’m not feeling it now.’

And Robbe had coughed a laugh with Marti hiding his face in Robbe’s shoulder, Matteo had whispered under his breath, that’s not the only thing you’re going to not feel tonight if you keep this up, and Isak had landed a smack at the back of his head – and it was when Lucas had realized his evening had turned out quite different from what he was thinking. He may not have found a match tonight, and Mika hadn’t said that he must find one. Atleast he’d be walking out with this memory with four new contacts – and the freedom from worrying about buying his groceries for the next month.

He looks out into the crowd dimmed with light. He doesn’t know if any successful match has been formed yet or not, but he doesn’t have to worry about that for more as he spots Mika sashaying towards him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Damn Lucas,” he says. His eyes turn brighter as his gaze shifts from Lucas to the people sitting around him. “I thought finding one match would take you centuries but you’ve managed to snag four beautiful people from the crowd. I must be teaching you well.”

Lucas rolls his eyes as Mika goes on introducing himself to them. It’s when terms like Lucas’s gay guru and Lucas’s foray for the night are exchanged between the group, that he turns around, way past feeling embarrassed at his roommate’s antics. He’s so used to them now it’s not even funny.

“Okay Mika you can stop it now,” he says, watching as the guys including Mika act entirely too pleased at Lucas’s discomfort. “Sorry to burst your bubble but none of them is my match.”

“Oh he wishes he could get someone like me,” Robbe grins as Marti and Matteo fail to hide their terrible smiles. There’s a moment where Lucas remembers he called them kind, but that’s all gone now.

“Yeah. He was alone and miserable in the corner. If it hadn’t been for us he would have probably died from sadness.” Isak says, elbowing Lucas in his shoulder. Lucas musters his most perfect glare he could in that moment.

“I hate you all.”

“Oh but I don’t!” Mika laughs as if he’s having the time of his life. “I’m not pleased with anything Lucas does in his life, but I’m so proud of him for finding you guys!” He looks like a proud parent, Lucas would have felt to say had it not been for Mika declaring the sentiment himself. “I’ve work to do now, but you guys are welcome to come here anytime you want.”

Mika leaves, and Lucas glares at the four devils now grinning from ear to ear. Lucas rolls his eyes, scowling when their expressions don’t drop.

“Seriously?” Lucas asks.

“Yes,” they all reply in unison, and Lucas shakes his head.

“Now if you’re done being creepy can we go back to the task at hand?”

It gets their attention as Isak straightens up, a serious expression falling on his face. “I’ve come to a conclusion; I’m letting fate decide it for me.” as he speaks, he pulls out a coin from his inner pocket and puts it forward in his open palm in front of Lucas. “Lucas, take this coin and throw it in whatever way you want. If it lands on the floor somewhere, I’d go home and never try speed dating again. But if it lands on a table or hits someone on the head and that person turns then-“

He shrugs, and Lucas doesn’t see the logic in his plan. “It’s stupid,” Robbe says, to which Isak snaps in his direction, “Shut up I’m trying something here.”

So with one last hopeless look shared between Lucas and Marti and Robbe and Matteo, and a hopeful Isak jumping with glee, Lucas takes the coin, throwing it away and –

It follows a perfect projectile, a silver running through air, disappearing for a second. They all watch it and Lucas can swear they’re all holding their breaths. It’s silly, how they collectively exhale when the coin reappears into their vision before landing on-

Even’s table.

Lucas can tell he’s shocked when a coin lands on his table not far from them as he starts looking around. Lucas turns his head to the side, watching Marti and Matteo and Robbe do the same. But Isak- he stays with his stare focused on Even who’s now smiling at someone and Isak looks completely smitten.

“Um…Isak?” Marti waves a hand in front of his face, sharing a look with the three as Isak completely ignores him.

“Lucas you beautiful being!” Isak says, still in a kind of trance as he gets up from his chair. Lucas understands his intentions, and with a pat on his back, Lucas says, “Go on. He’s from Oslo too.”

It’s what sets the deal as Isak sets in motion. “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he says off-handedly. They watch him make his way to Even, the crowd swallowing him just when he makes his way to the table.

Matteo turns to Lucas, “Is he one of the guys you said you talked too?”

Lucas nods, “Yeah he is – and come to think of it, I think I met some people you guys would like.”

And as Lucas plays matchmaker, he looks for the remaining three people he had met before. It’s funny really – this fate or kismet or whatever was going on when he met these people each of which bears a connection with the people he’d met earlier – and he spots Sander, his lighter than blond hair standing from the crowd. Lucas turns to Robbe.

“You see that guy over there? He’s Sander, and I think you’d be perfect together.”

It takes him a minute or two to find Nico and David in the crowd, and it takes him a minute as he convinced Marti and Matteo to go talk with them. Unlike Robbe who had fled straightaway, these two were difficult, and Lucas had resorted to quoting Marti’s own lines to him.

“It doesn’t hurt you to try, does it?”

And now he is left alone on their table as he tries to check up on his friends in the crowd. He had seen Isak disappearing with Even, and he’d shot him a thumbs-up when he’d met his eyes from across the room. The rest of them are still in the talking stage from what Lucas can see, even Mika, who’s now stood talking to someone much too familiarly – and Lucas can’t help but be envious of apparently how easy that looks for him.

He’s thinking of calling it a night after Isak sends a message in their newly formed groupchat, saying how he doesn’t think he’d be back anytime soon (which Lucas kind of guessed, by the way). The other boys reply in variations of same sentiment, and Lucas guesses his attempt at matchmaking was more successful than he thought it would be.

Lucas shakes his head, sending a message back into the groupchat, making sure the guys knew he won’t be missing them if they end up getting murdered tonight.

(But in all seriousness, he tells them to be safe, and he smiles when gets all affirmative responses in return.)

It’s when he’s beginning to leave that he feels a presence beside him. It’s a repeat of just a few moments ago, and he turns, expecting it to be Robbe or Matteo or even Mika and-

-and it’s not them. Not by a long shot.

For a moment it feels like one of Lucas’s daydreams as the light turning green and blue dances over the stranger’s head. His lips are curved in a smile, and Lucas really feels he’s tripped and transported into one of the universes he’s created during many of his bouts of daydreaming.

“Hi. You’re Lucas right?” The stranger’s voice carries over the noise of the club. It’s soft, sweet, and Lucas would have lost it had it not been for the stranger to be standing literally in a meter’s distance of him.

The stranger meets his eyes, and Lucas feels all the conversation skills in him reverting to zero. He was having no problem talking about his life to then-strangers just moments ago. Why does it brain have to be filled with hay now?

“Um – yes?” It comes out as a question, and the person smiles. Lucas feels his idiot brain transporting him to somewhere else – where it’s only him and the stranger, where the voices in the background aren’t filling his mind like white noise and where the sun is shining directly over him so Lucas is able to make out the colours lighting up in the stranger’s eyes.

Lucas’s heart beats heavily in the hollow of his chest.

The stranger cocks his neck to one side, “I’m Eliott,” he says. Eliott, Lucas rolls the name in his head. “And I’ve been watching you play matchmaker for a while and I’ve been meaning to ask -,” he takes a pause; Lucas hangs onto it, “-which of these beautiful boys do you think I’d match perfectly with?”

It’s a wonder Eliott doesn’t notice when Lucas’s heart tears his chest and lands on the table in front of him, beating so heavily it’s a struggle trying to calm it down. Eliott has been watching him. Eliott, who looks like he makes a living out of appearing on billboards and photoshoots, has been watching Lucas for a better part of his night.

Lucas wets his lips, thankful for the dim lighting of the café to hide his burning cheeks. What he wouldn’t give to-

“Do you have your eyes set on someone tonight?” Lucas mirrors the position of Eliott’s head. Eliott’s face lights up even more, and Lucas feels a shiver of unknown reason pass through the length of his spine.

“I do, actually. He has a nice smile and pretty blue eyes. And his hair is the wildest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lucas looks around, confused for a moment, “That’s like, half of the people here?”

Eliott wrinkles his face adorably. Something jumps inside Lucas’s stomach at the sight. Eliott mutters something under his breath which Lucas fails to catch. And then he looks up, his eyes now gaining a glint which wasn’t there before. Lucas focuses – and it’s of nervousness.

“I suppose I should be more direct,” Eliott begins, taking a step forward so he’s just an inch away from Lucas, “If you’re free now then I’d like to take you somewhere.”

What?

Lucas chokes on the air caught in his throat at Eliott’s sudden statement, neck whipping towards him so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t break it. Eliott himself looks taken back, and Lucas doesn’t know if it’s at his own words or something else.

“Wait no – that was so straightforward I’m sorry!” Eliott’s voice is frantic, and Lucas feels a beginning of something in his chest. “I – uh – I wanted to know if you’ve found someone tonight.” He says in one single breath. Lucas feels his face getting warm. The good warm you get after spending a day out in the sun as it washes away your sadness and takes it from you as it begins to set. He feels ants crawling inside him – those who begin from his heart and spread like a warm fire all around him with his blood.

Eliott looks like he might mass out when Lucas comes back. This doesn’t happen to him. It isn’t often that people actively seek him out. And here’s him – Eliott – in all his beauty sitting in front of hm. There’s something restless inside his arms, a nervousness which rises from the feeling which he’s refusing from letting it set in his bones.

“I haven’t,” Lucas’s voice is small, but it’s everything which brings a light to Eliott’s face which he can’t wait to follow. The warmth settles over him, and Lucas turns his head to the side when it becomes too much. He finds the guys, minus Isak, who have now taken the role of an audience for Lucas, and apparently look shameless when Lucas catches them staring.

(It isn’t like Lucas can judge them or anything.)

Lucas tries to convey a message to them with his eyes, and they get it, thankfully, as they turn to their respective partners, now forming a small circle which Lucas watches from afar. He turns to Eliott, his eyes in half-moons and smile in all suns. It really feels like a dream, and he wastes no moment in sending a prayer above.

“So – the place you wanted to take me?”

Eliott laughs, his voice soft and high. He leans forward, and Lucas meets him halfway.

#skam france #elu fic #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #elu #penned #skam france fic

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satsuki2406 · 4 years

Text

Dear Aomi Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"I've seen you in a dream before, you are the warm and bright presence that embraced me on Cape Kamui a long time ago on a June afternoon."

Shinohara (Y/N) is a normal girl who had everything she could ask for, a loving family, a beautiful home, friends, and a fluffy cat. For a long time, she gave her life and happiness for granted, never imagining that she'll face one of the worst and crueler facades of society so closely, destroying what once was a happy, harmonious and normal family. One day, in hopes to recover what they lost, the Shinohara family took one of the more difficult decisions of their lives; leave behind their home back in Hokkaido and travel hundreds of miles south until Musutafu, the place that could grant them a solution and help close the yet fresh wound and scare away the ghosts of the past. Hardheaded, passionate, and ambitious (Y/N) is forced to confront the incarnated face of the superhuman society that she hated the most; Bakugou Katsuki.

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Dark Themes, My poor attempt of humor, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers, LONG ass chapter.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: School is a Great Place to Make Enemies

2-My Stupid Classmate, the Angry Dandelion

Running steps along tired panting could be heard through the empty streets. Both teens were now a good distance from school but adrenaline pushed them to keep going a little more. But once the necessity of breathing started to kick in, both decided that a break would be more than appreciated. They came to a halt at the entrance of a tunnel and concentrated now on catching their breath, once he was recovered enough to talk, Midoriya, timidly made the first comment. “Shi-Shi-Shinohara-san…!” (Y/N), getting one last intake through her nose, landed her eyes on Midoriya who whimpered nervously hardly believing that now he had officially talked to a girl who wasn’t his mom. “Huh? What is it?”

The poor boy, unsure of what to do and terribly flustered, tried to rearrange his thoughts while covering his reddened face with his arms.

“W-Why you di-did that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Confront Kacchan, de-defend me I mean” Midoriya almost whispered.

“And why shouldn’t I? You were being a victim of injustice so I stepped in, that’s how it works, if you see someone in trouble, you help them, that’s the correct thing to do isn’t it?”

Midoriya watched amazed at (Y/N) while she sweetly smiled at him, touched by her words.

“W-Well I guess b-but... you-you don’t think I’m a loser cause I’m quirkless?! A-Aren’t you going to avoid me like everybody else does? Make fun of me like the rest of the class?!”

“To be honest Midoriya, ‘til this moment you haven’t give me a single reason to do any of that, actually, you look like a nice guy.” Midoriya’s blood pressure was sky high at this point, a pretty girl faced no other than Bakugou fucking Katsuki for his sake twice in the timespan of eight hours, talked to him kindly and also complimented him? All in the same day?!

‘This is so crazy!’

“Midoriya?” (Y/N)’s voice interrupted his accelerated thoughts. “Y-Yes?!”

“Are you ok? I mean, Bakugou blasted your desk at the beginning of the class- oh by the way! What was that notebook you had earlier? ‘Hero notes for the future’ was it? I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from burning it, but at least it didn’t end at a koi pond or something.” (Y/N) said with a closed-eye smile.

“I-It’s ‘He-Hero Analysis for the Fu-Fu-Future’ actually, b-but you g-got it close! H-Hero notes is ok! I-I mean if you want to call it that way! But you can call it whatever you like! If you want to put it a specific name it is, if not, it is ok! Oh my God...! This is kind of overwhelming, we just jumped from a third floor but we are safe and sound! I can’t believe you actually confronted Kacchan, b-but what if now he starts targeting you?! It would be all my fault! I’M SO SORRY SHINOHARA-SAN!! But unlike me, you could rely on your quirk to defend yourself, but after what happened today, he will try to take revenge for sure…! And my situation with him could get even worst, especially after what happened today! But even though…*mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter…*”

Midoriya kept blabbering and blabbering endlessly and (Y/N) just could sweat drop and observe him with eyes wide as saucers. ‘He definitely has no friends, huh? Even if it sounds mean, it was expected.’ (Y/N) took a deep breath and smiling at the awkward greenettte she decided to stop Midoriya’s creepy monologue before it got even longer.

“Midoriya…” She rose her hand and softly karate chopped the top of his fluffy head. “…snap out of it!” (Y/N) said while smiling at the now deeply flushed boy.

“I-I’m so sorry!” The poor boy said while aggressively bowing his head at a inhuman speed.

“Haha! No problem! You really are funny Midoriya! But please stop that you’ll damage your neck.”

“F-Funny?! M-Me?!”

“Yup! By the way, who’s Kacchan?”

“O-Oh, w-well Kacchan is actually Bakugou’s nickname, everybody used to call him like that when we were kids, I guess it just got stuck with me. His actual full name is Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Oh my God! You actually call him that all the time?! Hahaha! That’s sooo cute! I’ll tease him tomorrow with that for sure!”

“W-What?! No! Please Shinohara-san you’re already on Kacchan’s bad side! Don’t get in more trouble because of me!”

“I’m not afraid of Bakugou, Midoriya. As you said I can rely on my quirk for self-defense, and besides, if that asshole is that dead serious about getting into U.A he’ll try to keep his record as clean as possible. He’s nothing more than a bully who was lucky enough to get a strong quirk.” A serious and confident look was settled on (Y/N)’s eyes, Midoriya, despite being surprised by her courage, remained a bit doubtful. After suffering years and years of mental and physical abuse by Bakugou, he was unsure if it was a good idea for Shinohara to keep on irking the already irritable blond. But at the end, she had something he never will, a power of her own and self-confidence. Maybe he could try to rub on a bit of the last one.

“Oh, damn it! Our shoes still at school! I guess my plan wasn’t bulletproof after all…” Midoriya lowered his view to his shoes finding out that indeed, (Y/N) was right, a pair of white uwabaki* were covering his feet instead of his signature red shoes.

“Oh no! I forgot my bike too! My parents are going to kill me!” (Y/N) said desperately pulling her (Y/N) locks. “Crap I need to go back to school!” (Y/N) tried to put her head together with a plan to sneak into school and avoid bumping into Bakugou to avoid more trouble. ‘He probably left already, but I can’t take the risk anyway.’

“I-I’m sorry that you are having to get in all this trouble because of me, I’m sorry Shinohara-san” (Y/N) saw Midoriya’s sad expression, and a little pang of guilt passed through her. ‘I guess I have to be careful of what I say in front of him, he seems kind of sensitive and self-conscious, I’ll have it on account the next time.’

“Come on Midoriya! You take everything too seriously! And don’t forget that I was the one who decided to step up and give you a helping hand, so don’t overwhelm yourself with the simplest things! It was my mistake so I’ll solve it! As simple as that! (Y/N) said while she padded Midoriya’s back animatedly.

“Well! I guess this is when we part ways Midoriya! See yaaa!~” Just like that the lively (H/C)-ette ran her way to Aldera meanwhile Midoriya contemplated her get lost on the horizon. ‘That was so insane…! I don’t think this day could get more nuts…!’

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

“Goddamnit! My-my lungs are on fire! If it wasn’t for my regular workout routine, I would have passed out ages ago!” After a couple of minutes, the school came into view again, wheezing and with a tremendous thirst. (Y/N) finally arrived at her destiny. Once she recovered her breath, she started looking for some trace of Gru, Kevin and Bob at the school entrance. Once she verified that the coast was clear, (Y/N) proceeded to jog at the main entrance, where the shoe lockers were located. Thankfully nobody was there at the moment, the only remaining students at the school were the members of the clubs. After finding her locker, she quickly changed her shoes. ‘Perfect! Now to the bike parking we go! If I’m not wrong is at the back of the school’

Stealthy and cautiously, (Y/N) made her way to the bike parking only bumping twice with other students that fortunately weren’t the explosive blonde. Just a few minutes later she could already devise her goal at just a couple of feet away from her, fortunately they weren’t a lot of bikes there like in the morning so find it was easier than expected.

“If I’m not wrong, I put it in the third row to the left, so, in theory it should be right-AHA! There you are!” Right in front of her eyes, was a brand new, vintage style (F/C) bike. It was a gift that (Y/N) received from her parents after they moved to Musutafu, she has been dying to have one of those since the last summer, so it wasn’t an overstatement to say that she almost had a heart attack when she saw it parked with a big (F/C) bow on it at her new house’s driveway after they arrived.

Without wasting more time, she placed her bag on the front basket, unlocked the cable lock and got on the bike. Watching her surroundings one last time to make sure it was safe to go, she pedaled the bike with all her might until she was a fair distance from the school, again.

“That was a close one! I’m glad I didn’t bump into that stupid dandelion!” ‘Although I was honest when I said to Midoriya I wasn’t afraid of him, it doesn’t mean I want to start another argument with him, it would be the third of the day, been his classmate is exhausting enough.’ Thanks to the hectic events occurred no even an hour ago (Y/N) could appreciate better the beautiful view surrounding her, the soft spring breeze swayed the cherry blossoms making them rain over the sidewalk and the heads of the distracted passerby that walked under them. This was a really crazy day full of surprises, some more pleasant than others but having such a calming landscape was really comforting. ‘Maybe this city is not so bad after all’

(Y/N) train of though was abruptly disturbed by a strong explosion that resonated in the distance. “A villain attack? It looks like it is happening in the center-” “Indeed-nya, young lady, in the Commercial District to be more specific-nya” (Y/N) turned her head to find the origin of the voice that answered her inquiry to be found with an elderly woman with cat ears and tail accompanied by who seem to be her daughter. “How do you know it?” (Y/N) asked intrigued. “We just were evacuated from there by the heroes-nya” the younger woman said. “We happened to be shopping there when a villain took a middle schooler hostage-nya and stared to cause havoc in the place, explosions, stores on fire, people running everywhere, it was crazy-nya! We were fortunate enough to escape as soon as it started-nya!”

“Oh God! A middle schooler?! That sounds awful! I hope the heroes can stop it soon, you really were lucky.” After share a couple more words they went on their separate ways. “Oh man! I was supposed to pass there to buy some stuff for dinner, I guess I’ll have to go to a konbini, I know mom will understand. Now the actual question is how I’m supposed to go home without going through the city centre that must be closed right now?” (Y/N) sighed resigned now that she had no choice. “The long way it is then I guess.”

🚲🚲🚲

One hour. That was what took (Y/N) to reach her neighborhood, and she still need to go to the konbini before going home. “Thanks God I have the bike, otherwise I don’t want to imagine how long it would have taken to get here with the train station closed right now. I really need a bath~ I want to get into the ofuro* and never get out…” ‘Now that I think about it the konbini should be on this street- Oh! There it is!’ Just In cue with her thoughts the lights of the store made their appearance on the way, lighting the sidewalk in front of it. Quickly, (Y/N) rode her bike to the main entrance and locked it on the little bike parking close to the automated door. After entering, (Y/N) took a shopping basket and was welcomed by the attendant at the cash register. ‘This place is quite large, maybe I can find all I need, ok, so the list say I need carrots, chicken breast, milk, pork cutlet and eggs, it’s not too much’ “Alright let’s get over with this so I can go home!” (Y/N) nimbly navigated through the store to get everything she needed to, along with some snacks and a bottle of Ramune soda to drink during the way home. After she got everything she needed (Y/N) made a beeline to the cash register to pay and leave. She gave her basket to the cashier who proceeded to scan the products, meanwhile (Y/N) busied herself looking other costumers entering and leaving on the convex mirror close to the door; an elderly man, two girls around the same age as her, a kid, Bakugou, another kid…wait-

‘Bakugou?!’

“Danm old hag running out of soy sauce at this fucking hour…” (Y/N) could hear him grumbling as he entered the store, sweating bullets at this point she mentally implore the cashier to hurry the hell up so she could leave before he noticed her presence. ‘Why did I have to grab so many snacks?!’

Unfortunately, the luck that seemed to stick to her the whole day decided to run away before she could do it first, because just in that moment Bakugou decided to take a detour to the manga display section that happened to be right at the side of the cash register. To put the cherry on the top, the Ramune bottle decided to rebel at that moment and refused to be scanned after the third failed try. “Oh, the code seems to be a bit blurred, let me bring another one to scan it” said the cashier. Before (Y/N) could oppose and just leave without the drink, the cashier girl disappeared at the back of the store where the cold drinks were.

‘Please, don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t-’

“The fuck are you doing here thief bitch?” Bakugou sneered

‘Goddamnit!’

“Oh, I don’t know, if we look at the evidence presented here, I’m standing at a convenience store’s cash register with a basket full of products that I’m about to pay for, so what do you think I’m doing here genius?”

“Don’t you smart mouth me idiot” Bakugou sneered.

“Don’t ask stupid questions then”

“You! -”

“I’m back! Sorry for the delay. So, your total would be ¥2738” (Y/N) slammed 3 bills of ¥1000 over the counter, took her bags and told the girl to keep the change before exiting the store.

“Oi thief bitch! Come back here! I’m not done with you!” Bakugou left the Shonen Jump magazine he was holding and went behind (Y/N).

“Oi! I’m talking to you bitc!-”

“Can you just shut up?! I have nothing to talk with you! And stop calling me ‘thief bitch’! I have a name you tared!” Bakugou stopped on his tracks a bit shocked by her reaction, and looked at her load the bike basket with her shopping bags and angrily unlocking the cable to hop on it. Hunching his posture and shoving his hands in his pockets he addressed her once more, this time more calmly.

“What’s your problem with me?”

(Y/N) stopped the bike making the rubbers screech against the ground before turning around to see Bakugou glaring at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me”

“If you mean that I completely dislike you and find you absolutely intolerable then yes, that’s my problem, well done Sherlock, can I go now?” (Y/N) turned her back to him with the intention of leave once and for all, but Bakugou had other plans. “What I said on class, what I said to Deku today, I mean it, Every. Single. Word. I’ll surpass All Might and become the strongest, richest and most powerful hero of all time, I don’t care what Deku or you do or think, I’ll crush you both.”

‘The nerve of this guy!’

A long pause took place after Bakugou’s statement, pleased with her silence the young male turned back to the konbini to buy the damn soy sauce his mother was nagging for and go home as well.

“You really are blind, aren’t you?”

“Hah?”

“You, like everybody else thinks that being a hero is all about recognition, fame, money, influence, power, right? Just because you have a powerful quirk you think you have what it takes to be a hero? You talk about surpass All Might yada yada all that crap. How are you supposed to be a hero and even more, exceed The Symbol of Peace himself when all you are is a bully? When you do nothing more than hurt and discourage, treating everybody like trash because you think you must be worshiped like a God who the Universe itself owns its very existence? Tell me Bakugou, you think that with how you are right now, one day when you try to rescue someone, can you guarantee that someone would take your hand? Trust in you blindly? Become a Symbol? You haven’t understood why All Might is the Number One Hero in the first place, it’s not all about fighting and kick everybody’s ass to oblivion. You may have been looking up to him all your life, and you still don’t understand.”

Bakugou looked at her astonished, how dare she to look down on him?! Of course he had all that it takes to be a hero and more! He is the Bakugou Katsuki! The next Number One Hero! Who wouldn’t want to be saved by him?! He is the best! He is a winn-

“If all you ever do is look down on people, you won’t be able to recognize your own weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?! What fucking weakne?!-”

“Didn’t you mommy sent you to buy soy sauce? I bet she must be waiting.”

“Don’t change the damn subject!- Oi! get your ass back here!”

“You already made me waste a lifetime, and like I said, I have nothing to talk with you”

As (Y/N) got farther and farther she could hear Bakugou’s shouting being muffled by the distance.

“Ha, serves you right, asshole.”

✒A/N:

Did I invested 45 minutes of my life investigating the real prices in Japan of all the products in (Y/N)’s list to make the total amount as accurate as possible? Yes, yes I did. *cough*OCD*cough* ¥2738 are approximately $25.61.

*Uwabaki: They are a type of Japanese shoes worn indoors, at home, school or certain companies and public buildings where street shoes are prohibited.

*Ramune: Is a type of carbonated soft drink originally created and sold in Japan. It’s original taste is lime-lemon, very similar to a Sprite but sweeter and softer, it comes in a wide variety of yummy and weird flavors like bubble gum, melon, cola, curry or teriyaki. If you have the chance to find it give it a try, the original flavor is really good and open the bottle is really fun!

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spilledinkstories · 4 years

Text

Darkness and the Man in the Window: by Nicole H (a short story)

“It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring; he bumped his head, and went to bed, and couldn’t get up in the morning.”

*****

Andrew Bennett was tired of killing people.

In his twenty years working as a gardener, he had been hired by three separate estates to trim both their hedges and their family trees, and while he’d appreciated the extra cash and the opportunity to utilize his highly underestimated artistic flare, his partnership with the grim reaper had taken its toll.

It was due to this fatigue, this growing hollow place inside his chest, that he was absolutely dreading his eight-o’clock-in-the-morning meeting with Morticia. But if Andrew was anything, he was a man of his word, and so at seven-fifty-seven on August 29th, his knobbly, weathered fist rapped sharply three times on her heavy black wooden door.

“Punctual as always,” she said tartly. Her smile sent a troupe of ants parading up his spine, but he simply smiled back at her. They did not speak as she led him through the cavernous front entry of her manor house, down a hallway, and into her drawing room. Andrew personally found it strange that the drawing room was at the back of the house, but the view onto the lawn he groomed so meticulous was quite nice.

“Tea?”

“Coffee, if you’ve got it.”

“Of course.” And she poured a steaming cup of coffee, its aroma warming Andrew to his very core, giving him the courage he had been grasping for since entering this vapid house.

“I don’t want to do it, you know.” His words came out a great deal sharper than he’d meant them to. As she slunk toward him, cup of coffee extended, he braced himself. She simply continued to smile.

“I don’t see that you have a choice,” she said quietly, once she was directly in front of him. He gulped.

“Is that so?”

“I know what you’ve done. What you are. I could turn you in.”

Andrew stared into her cold eyes, his heart nothing but a heap of ash. His eyes burned, bile stinging his throat, his stomach in the soles of his feet. He had a family that loved him, and a granddaughter that thought he was the most precious thing in the world. He couldn’t bear to make them deal with his mistakes. He sat down on the uncomfortable sofa, and accepted the coffee from Morticia.

“There, now. Let’s discuss the specifics.”

She took her time arranging herself amidst some lavish cushions on a sofa across from him, and took her time again studying his anguished features with devilish intent written all over her angular face.

“As you know my husband and I own the morgue here in town, so first of all I’d like to extend our sincere thanks to you for all the business you’ve brought us.”

Andrew tried to swallow his coffee, but his throat had turned to a roll of sandpaper, coiling tighter and tighter, and as he spluttered and choked she gave a tinkling laugh that made him want to hurl the delicate porcelain cup right at her face. He didn’t though. He steadied himself, taking off his cap and resting it on his corduroyed knee.

She continued to speak. “As it happens, Mr. Bennet, my husband and I are well connected people. We know who comes into our morgue just as well as we know who put them there. And now that we’re in a spot of trouble, we can only be bothered to hire the best help in town.”

“I’ll garden for free for you,” Andrew ground out.

“Actually you’ll have to be fired as my gardener, you’ll understand that I can’t be connected to you once you’ve done the job. It’s a great pity too because we’ve been nothing short of thrilled with the work you do.” She cast an appreciative gaze over her shoulder to the back lawn of the house, with the pretty garden beds and well groomed hedges.

“No, I need you to kill someone for me. And make it look like an accident.”

“Would you get to the point, madam?” Andrew said. He was nauseous and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never face the sun again, and she was clearly toying with him.

“I need you to kill a surgeon.”

Andrew blinked. He leaned back. He let out a booming laugh that took both himself and Morticia by surprise. It wasn’t that he thought it was particularly funny, but stress plays strange tricks on the mind. It was an impulse. He took the last gulp of his coffee and set the cup roughly on the polished table between them.

“And why would I do that?”

“It’s actually quite strange. A little funny, really.”

“I don’t...”

“My name is Morticia and I own a morgue. Does that not point you toward any ideas?”

“You have a dark sense of humour,” Andrew ventured weakly.

“My darling, I am Death, incarnate.”

There was a stark silence in which Andrew considered the very real possibility that the woman before him was raving mad.

“Is that so?” was all he said.

“This surgeon is after my husbands career, so I need to fix that. And, I need to have it look like one in a string of many unfortunate events.”

“A few things there,” Andrew said, and he stood up and began pacing, trying to burn off the nervous energy. “First of all, does your husband know what he’s married to? and second, why can’t you just kill him yourself?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “No, he doesn’t know. He thinks I’m an ordinary woman. And I can’t kill the surgeon myself because it’s against the rules. They wouldn’t let me.”

Andrew returned to his seat, not taking the bait to ask who “they” were. As his knee began bouncing convulsively and he rubbed his palms together to stop them prickling, he asked, “how could a surgeon be after a morticians job? Aren’t those direct opposites?”

For the first time, Morticia’s smile wavered. She rose and refilled their cups, taking a few steadying breaths. The twisting in Andrew’s gut intensified. That hollow place in his chest was swallowing up what was left of him, and if he carried this act out, he knew that would be the final straw.

Morticia handed him the full cup and he gripped it, savouring the warmth it provided. It grounded him, made him feel real, and human. She sat, and finally met his eyes.

“Whenever anyone pictures Death as a person, they picture the devil, or a creature in black cloak. Someone with horrible intentions and a penchant for evil. That isn’t who I am though. I have a schedule to follow, lists to maintain, it’s actually quite stressful. I don’t go around with a pitchfork killing people — big fan of your pitchfork murder, by the way, I thought that was really clever. Anyway, I simply facilitate death.”

Andrew wasn’t sure he understood how you could facilitate death without causing it, and he didn’t appreciate being called out for one of his killings either. He said nothing, and she continued.

“I normally visit the local hospitals, under the guise of asking for follow-ups on our paper work. Those nurses are always getting it wrong. But I also visit the wards. I go to the ICU, and I speak to people. I see who is ready. I check it against my books.”

Morticia stood, and crossed to the end of the room where vast bookshelves lined the walls. Andrew thought it was a shelf full of prop books, and wondered privately if she was just trying to seem impressive. But she ran an expert finger along the spines, selecting one once she was sure, and brought it to show Andrew. She sat next to him on his sofa, and he would have sworn before God the air got colder.

She opened the book, and he was stunned to see a ledger.

“This is last year,” she said, with the air of an accountant in a business meeting telling him he really ought to trim his expenses. Looking closer at the pages, Andrew saw that beside each name was a date, and in a third column there seemed to be one of four letters. N, M, A, or S.

“What are these for?” He asked, pointing to an N.

“N is for natural. A is accident, M is murder, and S – ”

“I see,” Andrew cut across her. “You still haven’t told me what mistake you made. Stop stalling.”

Morticia sighed and went back to her sofa. Andrew was grateful to feel warmth return to the air around him. His head was getting fuzzy. It was as though he could hear a faint static, and see faint blurs in the edges of his vision. His pulse had quickened, and all together he felt quite ill. His eyes flicked to the lawn, and he imagined could smell the freshly mown grass and damp earth. Andrew swallowed, and the acid in his throat burned a little.

“I was at the hospital, and I overheard the surgeon talking to a technician. This surgeon happens to be my husband’s twin brother, and they also went through school together. One became a surgeon, the other a mortician, and everyone found it darkly funny. Anyway, I heard that he wants to take over my husband’s business. He wants to commodify his patients even further. It’s sickening. I was angry. I acted rashly. I wanted to make a note so I’d remember to talk to my husband about it and I just wrote the name of the surgeon down.”

“In your ledger?” Andrew asked. This was the most ridiculous story he’d ever heard, and vowed to himself that once he was out of this mess he was going to retire once and for all and never leave his house if he could help it.

“It’s not something that can be undone.”

“So I have to kill a man for you because you wrote down his name, have I got that right?”

“I’m so glad you understand.”

“I don’t,” he said, nonplussed.

“If he’s successful he will basically become a serial killer. He will make sure his patients die, so he can send them to his morgue, and double the bill for their loved ones. His name is in the ledger. So it’s final. I haven’t written a date yet. When can you get the job done?”

Andrew blinked at her. “You can’t be serious,” he spluttered, beginning to stand, but she lifted and imperious finger and he halted. He thought of his family, his granddaughter, and the dark hole in his heart.

“I will do it on one condition. Don’t pay me. Write down my name too.”

“What?” Morticia whispered. Her eyes were wide, and the flare she normally spoke with was replaced by an almost childlike awe.

“I am old. I hate myself. I’ve become a monster. Either kill me here and now, or if you insist I do it, kill me afterward. I can’t have my family knowing what I’ve done, so I’ll do what you say if it will protect them from knowing. But I don’t want to be around after.”

“That’s no way to talk, Andrew. What’s one more?” She said it soothingly, like a mother speaking to a child being theatrical over a mild case of the sniffles.

“What’s one more?” He croaked. “What’s…? It’s everything. I’m being swallowed up, and not much of me is left as it is. You’re pushing me over the edge. You’re driving me to it.” He was spitting the words at her, but she did not flinch.

She spoke in a dark, low voice. “Making a deal with Death is no laughing matter, Andrew Bennet.”

“You’re the one striking the deal here. You’re welcome to walk away, and neither of us gets what we want.”

She did not answer. She picked up a pen that had been on the table between them, and slowly opened her ledger on her lap.

“Simon Travers is the name of the surgeon,” she said, pointing her pen at the spot on the page that marked Simon’s fate. With a flourish, she began slowly etching a name underneath it, in the next vacancy.

“Andrew Bennet. Call me when you’ve finished the job, and I will add the date for your entry.”

It was about noon when Andrew Bennet finally left Morticia’s house. She’d told him what hospital Simon worked at, and he’d said he’d call her.

The hollow spot in his chest was writhing and expanding, pushing on his lungs so that he was panting for breath. He walked through downtown, and as he passed a shop window he saw a hunched, careworn man slouching down the street with no trace of life left in his eyes. It was his reflection, of course. His cellphone rang, and he watched the man in the shop window reach into the pocket of his jacket and answer the call.

“Hi, Grandpa!” Came the happy little voice. He looked away from the man in the window, unable to watch.

“Hello, dear,” he said happily. She mustn’t know anything was wrong.

“Mom said next weekend we’re gonna come visit you,” she said happily. They talked for a minute, and he promised they’d make cookies and watch her favourite movie, and go out for lunch somewhere special, and then he hung up. He couldn’t handle this. Not again.

As he continued past shops, the man in the window fell into step beside him. He allowed a small smile to cross both their features, appreciating that the lighting was just right that day so that he didn’t feel like he was walking to the hospital alone. Feeling alone is so much worse than simply being alone, Andrew thought. Today, the world seemed to have understood that he couldn’t feel alone. Not now.

It was an odd twist in the tapestry of life that caused Andrew Bennet to become a gardener in the first place. He had been a factory worker, close to retirement because his lungs couldn’t handle it much longer. His wife had suggested that he take up gardening on the weekends, to force him to get outside and clear his lungs. He’d fixed up their front lawn so beautifully, that when his wife threw his retirement party and invited the neighbours, he got quite a few requests. It was the combination of his exacting eye for careful detail, and his vision for what things could be, that gave him his edge.

As he thought of this edge of his, the man in the shop windows looked at him and seemed to say do you remember how proud you were of your plan? He’d set up an elaborate mouse trap of gardening tools that resulted in his wife’s killer being run through in his own backyard. Technically an accident, and while many of that man’s neighbours had seen Andrew milling about the place tending to the flower beds, they’d also seen him carefully arranging his tool box every day. They knew him to be a measured, thoughtful man. Never absent-minded. He’d gotten off scot free.

What about the second time, we weren’t so careful then, were we? The man in the window mocked. But Andrew was approaching the intersection in front of the hospital, and he decided it was too exhausting to go through his own ledger, so he said goodbye to the man in the windows. He crossed, and headed up the steep steps to the front doors.

The lobby of the hospital was lit by large green-blue glass walls, giving the impression that it was a gloomy, rainy day outside despite the sun. It was sombre and sterile, and Andrew heaved a sigh as he approached the reception desk.

“I have an appointment with Simon Travers, could you tell me where his office is please?”

“Of course, and may I get a name?” Said the receptionist without glancing up from her screen.

“I’m a good friend of his brother, Scott, actually. My name is Andrew.”

“I don’t see you here.”

“His brother sent me. We spoke on the phone. Where’s his office?”

“Whatever. Fourth floor, room two-fifty-one.”

He walked away without thanking her.

On the fourth floor, he got off the elevator and was greeted by a wide hallway, across which was a large cafe and seating space. Andrew felt the hollow spot inside him settle into a calm, background type of feeling, as a mixture of resolve, focus, and resignation took over his mind. He glanced at the signs on a post which told him that the room he was looking for was to his left. He crossed the hall and bought two coffees, then took them to a table in the corner where he could look out over the balcony at the floors below.

He wasn’t really looking though. The main thing was that his back was to the hallway.

He unzipped his jacket a little bit, and pulled out an envelop. Inside were some dried plants he’d brought with him. While he hadn’t known who Morticia had wanted him to take care of, he’d known what the meeting was about, and he’d come prepared. Being a gardener had given him certain advantages.

To the untrained eye, he was an old man sitting alone with two cups of coffee, looking at a dried Queen Ann’s Lace flower, possibly mourning the death of a loved one, or else praying for their swift and safe recovery. To an expert however, he was carefully avoiding touching the Hemlock roots with his bare skin, as he rolled the dried stems between the paper of the envelop, dropping the fine powder and liquid from inside the roots into one of the coffees. Highly toxic, all he had to do now was get Simon Travers to take a few sips. He replaced the envelop carefully in his jacket pocket, and rose.

Room two-fifty-one was a prestigious office at the very end of the long hallway. The door was open, and hands laden with coffee, Andrew knocked gently with the toe of his shoe.

“Simon Travers, yes? I’ve been so keen to meet with you.”

Simon Travers looked up from the papers he’d been reading, and his furrowed brow deepened as he said, “sorry, do I know you?”

“No, we haven’t met, young man. I’m here for a chat about your practice,” Andrew said boldly, using the same foot to now ease the door shut. He crossed the room with a confidence and ease of gait that only comes with age and experience.

“There you go, son,” he mumbled, setting the coffee down in front of Simon. He took a seat directly across from him, took a laboured sip of his own coffee, and set it on the edge of the desk with a satisfied “aahhh, there we are.”

“Who are you?” Simon pressed, trying not to be too rude while speaking loudly and slowly.

“Andrew Bennet is the name,” Andrew said in the same tone. Simon’s brows shot up, and he pursed his lips, an invitation for Andrew to continue.

Looking at the young man before him, the hollow darkness in Andrew’s chest reared up, pushing on his lungs so hard he felt he might faint, pushing up his throat so that he could barely speak, and reaching his brain to form a dark cloud over his thoughts. He couldn’t very well snatch the coffee back, could he. His palms prickled with sweat, and he suddenly became aware of his own body odour. It was too late. His head was swimming. He was here. It was about to happen. Again. He didn’t want to watch. He shut his eyes, pressing his lids so tightly together he thought he might be able to force blindness upon himself.

“Are you okay?” Simon’s voice sounded a long way off. Andrew hadn’t prepared anything to say to this young man. His plan had simply been to give him the coffee.

“Listen, sir, I’ve got a surgery I have to perform in an hour. If you have something to say, spit it out.”

And just like that, eyes screwed shut, a blinding clarity came over him. Maybe he wasn’t a bad person. He had been exacting justice this whole time. Avenging his wife was noble, and preventing the murder of several patients at the hands of a surgeon with a tendency for malpractice, well, that wasn’t so bad either. Andrew opened his eyes. Over Simon’s shoulder was a stunning view of the city. He let his gaze wander, curious if he could spot home from where he was sitting.

“Sir, I’m going to have to insist that you make this quick.”

Andrew’s eyes stayed on the glass but his gaze shifted, so he could see the man in the window again. He supposed he’d followed him from the shops on the street. Andrew watched the man in the window speak to the back of Simon’s head.

“I haven’t got a lot of money and that coffee was a gesture you know,” he snapped. Simon pulled a face, picked up the cup and tilted it toward Andrew as though to say “cheers”, and took a swig.

“Now, I’m here because Morticia said you’re her husband’s twin.”

“Oh, here we go,” Simon said, rubbing a hand over his face. “What did she tell you, that I’m driving her business into the ground because I’m so good at saving people?”

“What? No, she said you’re killing people to support your brother’s business, the business that you plan to steal from him.”

Simon leaned back and let out a laugh without mirth. His chair turned a bit, and he stared out at the city before turning back to Andrew. “I save people for a living, do you understand that? I could never do something that monstrous.”

“Why should I believe you?” Andrew said, feeling the roiling monster inside him start to gnaw on his ribs.

“Go ask any of the staff on this floor. I’ve been working at this hospital for nearly two decades and I’ve only ever lost two patients on the table, both during my fellowship at the beginning of my career. I’m a miracle worker, Mr. Bennet.”

The smooth arrogance on Simon Travers face was not enough to condemn the man to death. If what he had said was true, Morticia had told a boldfaced lie, though why that should surprise Andrew he did not know. He no longer felt present. The darkness inside him had made its way through his brain, his bones, his heart…he watched Simon raise the coffee for another drink, the whole time staring with a triumphant glint at Andrew.

When he set the cup down again, Andrew could see it was half empty. More than enough had been drunk.

“My mistake then lad, sorry to bother you.”

“Tell Morticia she can rot,” he said darkly. Andrew merely nodded and left the office, careful to close the door behind him.

He made his way out of the hospital, and realized it wasn’t the glass that made the sky look rainy. It was now pouring. He didn’t care. He pulled out his phone, and called Morticia. She answered, and he said, “It’s Andrew. It’s done,” and hung up.

He pulled his hat down more snugly on his head, and let the rain soak him as he stepped outside. He let it work through the thick denim of his jacket, let it make the corduroy of his pants turn to lead from the weight of the water. His feet squelched in his shoes, his socks sliding down and balling up under his toes. He let the water get into his eyes, welcoming the stinging, blurred vision. He let his nose run. He let all these things happen because they grounded him, made him feel present and real and human, even though the dark hollow thing in his chest was doing everything it could to prove otherwise.

He had been right, when he was sitting in Morticia’s drawing room that morning. This murder had been the last straw.

As he walked up the final block into the suburbs where his house sat, he wondered who had been the liar: Morticia, or Simon. He wondered if it mattered. He wondered whether he would have acted differently if it had been Morticia. He wouldn’t have, because she’d blackmailed him. He thought of his sweet granddaughter. He wondered if Simon had a family of his own. He hadn’t bothered to ask.

While he was wondering all this, Andrew hadn’t been paying attention to his footing. His toe caught on a raised lip in the sidewalk that he trod every day - he had memorized this little raised lip and normally carefully stepped over it, but today was different. He crashed to the ground, smacking his head off of the concrete.

He rolled onto his back.

He let the rain thunder onto his face for a moment, allowing it to soothe the stinging on his forehead where his skin had broken. He swiped at his face. There didn’t seem to be too much blood. No one had been around to see Andrew Bennet fall, and as the old man hoisted himself back to standing he felt a small relief that his dignity wasn’t hurt. He shuffled the remaining few steps, not bothering to take his usual glance at his immaculate front lawn as he entered the house.

Though it was only about five in the afternoon, Andrew shuffled upstairs and changed into dry clothes, and climbed into bed. He embraced the weight and warmth of the blankets after the long walk in the rain. He hadn’t turned on any lights, and as the dim early evening light lulled him into that blissful middle state between sleeping and wakefulness, he wondered if Morticia would keep her promise to him.

As the rain kept pouring down, the darkness inside him pounded in his chest and in his head - though he couldn’t be sure if his head didn’t just hurt from its introduction to the sidewalk.

Evening turned to twilight, which turned to night, and the darkness inside him ate up the entire room, easing him into slumber.

When morning came, Andrew Bennet did not wake.

#short story #spilled ink #writeblr #my writing #writers on tumblr #story #story prompt #writing prompt #writing portfolio #nursery rhyme #dark humor #neil gaiman #writing inspiration #murder story

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plum-pudding-and-honey · 3 years

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MONTHLY RANGE : Eight & Charley & C’rizz (1/2)

Scherzo - 2.5/5 : So... I really don't know how to rate it. Because I recognise the brilliance of the thing (excellent way of using the audio medium, the sound creature was brilliantly creepy and the atmosphere is so cringy but in a good way? Also Paul McGann and India Fisher are excellent and they do have good chemistry together). But I'm not a fan of Eight/Charley so this was kinda … annoying? I liked how the Doctor/companion relationship is explored and I like the fact that companions are memento mori (a nicer way of saying "pets", the Master gets it) but I really hated the idea that Charley was the first one the Doctor really loved (lol no) because like Rose and Clara, Charley is supposed to be """special""" (the difference being that Rose and Clara actually believe that they are special, it's not the case for Charley which is why I don't hate her with all my guts like the other two) in her relationship to the Doctor. Each and every companion has a special relationship with the Doctor, no one is special and the Doctor (whatever the incarnation) loves them all. Period. So yeah, having them mopping for two hours about "You said you loved me, you didn't mean it", "But I love you", "No, I don't love but actually I do, I'm just trying to protect you." was annoying. Just say you love each other, kiss or whatever and move on, but don't linger on it for THREE episodes, thank you very much. And then in the last part, the Doctor admits that he loves all his companions, so yeah great, but what was the point of saying that Charley was the first one half an hour before except pissing me off greatly? Despite all this, this was still a good illustration of my Eight-treats-his-companions-like-shit thesis. (Also, forgot to mention, Eight at the beginning whining about loses his senses … annoyingly brillant and sent me huge Eleven vibes). So yeah, I love some of it and hate other bits, so I guess I'll settle for something in the middle, rating-wise.

The Creed of the Kromon - 2/5 : It was going well pretty much until the end first part. Then it became a huge disappointment. We have two female characters, Charley and L'da, and they're both reduced to being reproductive tools for the Big Bad Bugs of the week and despite saving L'da being C'rizz motivation from the beginning, he just shoots her when he finds her without even considering trying something else to help her, I mean it's not like she begged that bad. And then he's ready to do the same to Charley. Great. Way to go. I hope this trigger-happy tendency will be corrected soon because I do find him an interesting character - I mean he's rough around the edges but there's way for amazing character development so please don't screw this up. The chameleon concept is also great (and wouldn't work on visual medium, let's be honest). Consider me hooked up for the Kro'ka/C'rizz arc (which I don't remember at all btw so that will be like listening to it for the first time). Also, I have to add that Eight's laugh in this episode cleared my skin, watered my crops and all of this. Also! I’m glad to have a Doctor + two companions dynamic, I really love it

The Natural History of Fear - 4/5 : So this was weird. I mean most of Eight's adventures in the main range are weird but this is another level of weird. Like they're really taking meta to the next stage. I don't have much else to say to be honest, except that it was difficult to follow at times but that I obviously loved the 1984 vibes. THIS IS THE VOICE OF LIGHT CITY. WELCOME TO YOUR NEW WORK DAY. TODAY IS HIGH PRODUCTIVITY DAY. Also that end twist *shocked*

The Twilight Kingdom - 2.5/5 : That's not particularly memorable. It really struggles to keep us hooked up for two hours and it didn't really work for me : I've lost interest and let my mind drifted several times and I was still able-ish to understand what was going on. That's not a good sign, people. The interesting bit was at the end with the return of the Kro'ka and how the mystery thickens about this weird place. Also Eight yelling "RASSILLON" at the end … someone's mad at daddy. We get to know a bit more about C'rizz which is always good to take since last episode didn't offer us any insight on his person at all. There's something definitely shifty and not coherent at all about him, like he's supposed to be a pacifist monk and yet, he's a pretty violent lad (I mean, this episode doesn't really count, he was controlled, but in the Creed of the Kromon he's not particularly gentle), which he acknowledges himself (I mean it could just be that being enslaved by the Kromon changed the man that drastically, but still...)

Faith Stealer - 3.5/5 : Ah! Finally we learn a bit more about C'rizz and we address what the hell happened in the Creed of the Kromon. Although, did he just get brainwashed into getting rid of his guilt, just like that? Because if that's the case, I'm gonna be very disappointed. I mean, I don't want him to suffer or anything but it all seemed a bit easy. Also, yeah, poor C'rizz, easily manipulated and preyed on by pretty much anyone is this freaking universe - can anyone give him a break for a second please? (also, is strangling Charley going to be a recurring thing or what? Because that is NOT ok, writers, no matter how much Charley jokes about it afterwards). Anyway, the plot was ok, the multihaven (or whatever the name of this place was, I don't remember) is an interesting concept (even more relevant today) and I really liked the idea that it's completely ok for anyone to worship literally anything without judgement.

The Last - 3/5 : Excelsior used a nuclear weapon to end a never-ending war and killed most of her people in the process? Excuse me? The unpredicted parallel with the Doctor and the Time War is up the roof people. And so I can't help thinking that this story would have been much better in a shorter version with a post Time War Doctor (can you see this with Nine, Rose and Jack? Because I definitely can and I'm not ok). Anyway. Charley doesn't get strangled this time but choked with a pillow. I don't know, do the writers have a kink about strangling/choking/killing women? And her death was the least credible possible with the Doctor moving on from it like twenty seconds after and absolutely not going into huge drama/self pity/extreme guilt mode, so you know she won't stay dead very long. I liked C'rizz very much here, he's actually growing on me much more than Charley. I like his loyalty and the fact that he has a much darker side, when it's actually well exploited.

Caerdroia - 5/5 : gfvbvgttybvgf THREE EIGHTS THREE EIGHTS T H R E E E I G H T S it's more than I can take. Hmm. So, i love the first part where the Doctor takes a nap (he deserves it) and sass the Kro'ka into telling him where the TARDIS is. I love him. Then we gets three versions of Eight and that's when I completely lost it. I also quite liked the crazy vibe of this episode, which felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland (again). The labyrinth part (or is it a maze??) was quite well done and the fact that it feeds off the Doctor, Charley and C'rizz subconscious was a nice to get to know them a bit more (especially C'rizz, whose annoyance with Tigger!Eight was very relatable). Charley and Eeyore!Eight was also priceless to be honest. And finally, finally, we get the TARDIS back and yeeeah! Also the Kro'ka is a frog vbyvegbvfy I can't

The Next Life - 2/5 : Excuse me but did this thing need to be that sexist? I mean... even Eight was a bit borderline a couple of times. I hated Charley in this episode, I hated how quick she was to judge C'rizz and how jealous she is throughout this audio when she's never really struck me as being jealous, especially not of C'rizz of all people. And it's a shame, really, because I was starting to think that maybe, she was getting less annoying. And most of all I HATED how her interactions with Perfection were depicted, how they bicker about the Doctor and, like, I get that it makes sense with Perfection being Zagreus and all, but it was very poorly brought, and ... just no. Also Perfection's relationship with Kip ... brrrr. Again, no. The plot in itself was not particularly memorable. It ends the Divergent Universe arc properly, the idea of this universe being in a constant cycle was kinda interesting and made sense with everything we had learnt so far so that's that. It was also nice to get to know more about C'rizz and I really like him more than Charley, and I hope he'll have a proper chance to find out who he is now. I'm definitely disappointed with this audio, it was way too long and problematic. (Just kudos for the Grace reference ... and it's made me miss Grace so I might rewatch the movie as a treat)

Overall opinion : Well I’m glad this is over. The Divergent Universe was an interesting concept but the quality of the episodes overall wasn’t very good and the way women are treated/depicted here is just a big NO. Big kudos for Caerdroia which was a nice surprise. The Natural History of Fear and Faith Stealer are good too, not as much though, and the rest, I’ll probably forget very soon, just like I did the first time. The only good thing to come out of this is my boy C’rizz

#doctor who #eight #eighth doctor #charley pollard #c'rizz #divergent universe #scherzo #the creed of the kromon #the natural history of fear #twilight kingdom #the last #caerdroia #the next life

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randomfandomfamily · 4 years

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So this is a post about what I think might happen during the sequel to the Sonic Movie.

This started out as a few thoughts , turned into a lot of ideas, and eventually manifested into… whatever this is.

Look, I have exactly zero self-control, and hyperfixation is an absolute monster at this time of all the time. So like… oops, I guess? Enjoy? Maybe? I dunno. Just gonna yeet this out there and scoot.

Warning: This is a really long friggin’ post. How long? Nearly 3,000 words of pure hyperfocused writing long. I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’d believe me if I did.

I know everyone is freakin’ hyped that Sonic is going to have a pal for the sequel. If past incarnations tell us anything, it’s that Sonic and Tails are 100% going to click, no problem. And I don’t doubt that is exactly what’s gonna happen this round too.

But here’s the thing. The premise for pretty much all of Sonic and Tails’ meeting before now has been Tails looking up to Sonic and Sonic deciding he’s gonna look out for Tails. They see each other as total equals, of course, but a lot of it stems from Sonic’s confidence in his abilities. Tails admires him for it, and Sonic knows he can keep Tails safe because of it. It gives Tails more confidence in himself. And that gives Sonic more confidence in Tails. They give each other the confidence and reassurance that they need.

This Sonic? This Sonic is a child. And he’s pretty much always been a child, a teen of fifteen in most cases, but we rarely see any incarnation of Sonic acting like a child. He’s usually just saving the world, and when he’s not doing that, he’s saving the world again. But the Sonic in the movie genuinely loves being a kid. And confidence in his abilities? Not so much. He used them once on purpose, and only after he had nearly died.

He’s not the usual thrill-seeking, needs to constantly be on the move, adrenaline junkie that we’re used to. He lives in house. In a small town. With friendly people and no one to fight (anymore). And he likes it that way.

Because of this, the set-up for Tails and Sonic’s relationship is going to have to be different. It’s most likely going to rely a lot on Sonic just being excited to see someone from his home planet. He might not question how Tails knows him. He might not question how Tails found him. He might not question anything at all.

The first movie taught Sonic that he absolutely does not have to be alone in life. It is, in fact, the worst way to live your life. He learns that it’s okay to rely on people, and he didn’t have to do this alone. The first movie taught him trust.

Sonic relied on blind trust in the first movie and it worked out. He trusted Tom. And in true Donut Lord fashion, Tom not only helped, but he and Maddie had pretty much adopted Sonic by the end of the movie.

Tails comes along. A resident of Sonic’s old home. Tails is nice, crazy smart, seems super interested in his powers, and also doesn’t want to kill his parents. Great! Immediate trust for Tails, too.

Now like I mentioned it before in another post, but I’m willing to bet that Tails found out about Sonic through the Echidnas. Though I’m also willing to bet that it was one specific Echidna that told him.

Gonna intervene on the Sonic/Tails analysis to bring you some unscheduled Knuckles. In all of Knuckles’ lore, he is the last known Echidna. Now they might throw that specific part of his history out for this incarnation, but it’d be interesting if they kept it.

Super Sonic was nearly a part of the movie, but they decided the main focus of the movie should be Sonic the character, not Sonic the classic hero archetype. That doesn’t mean Super Sonic will never be introduced, it could still happen. The thing is, that requires Chaos Emeralds. And who was known for his connection to those? Exactly.

Y’all wanna see somethin’ neat?

We gotta map with eight planets on it and something that looks nearly identical to a Chaos Emerald in the corner. Rings are used by advanced civilizations, and Earth ain’t one of them. Ta-da. Seven planets. Seven Chaos Emeralds. And that that circle in the middle looks like a great place for a Master Emerald, doesn’t it?

‘Wait a minute’, I hear you protest, ‘the mushroom planet is uninhabited! Why would a Chaos Emerald be there?’

Sure it’s uninhabited. You know, unless it isn’t. What proof do we have that it is? Because Sonic said it was? Because he opened up a portal, looked through it, and saw nothing?

Look, Robotnik is a brilliant scientist, I’ll give him that, but no way in New Heckistan is he going to find a way to find a way home with mushrooms alone.

But say he stumbles across a poor soul who’s trying to protect one of the seven most powerful gems in existence. Say he steals that gem and uses it to find a way back (as a mad scientist do). Maybe he even stole the set of rings that the poor unfortunate soul had. After all, there were six more gems to find. Why settle for 1/7 of the power when you could have it all?

How long has Sonic been with Tom and Maddie now? Long enough for him to be enrolled in school? Long enough for them to fix the house and start repainting? Long enough, perhaps, for a mad scientist to start fixing the remnants of his busted ship and power it with an alien source? I mean, probably. He is pretty smart.

Actually, hang on. Maybe the planet is uninhabited as far as living creatures go, but isn’t Eggman (Robotnik’s nickname from Sonic) known for having two robot assitants? That’d be an interesting way to introduce them. And they’d know the other planets, and could open the portals.

So perhaps Robotnik finds a planet with another Chaos Emerald ripe for the picking. It’s protected by, oh let’s say… a tribe of Echidnas? All sworn to protect one thing. The thing he wants. They put up a fight, of course they do, but they don’t know who they’re up against.

But maybe, just maybe, there’s one left behind. Knuckles. Who had heard tales of a being that could harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds. His tribe had tried hunting him down years ago in fear that he might steal the power for evil. They had failed. Thankfully. Because it looked that being they tried to hunt down was going to be their only chance of stopping the psycho with the mustache.

So Knuckles confides in a local inventor that he knows. A clever little Fox named Miles Prower. He tells Miles that there is someone that could help them, but it was going to be difficult to find them.

If I’m right, and Tails did find out about Sonic through Knuckles, that explains his timing. If he was just tracking Sonic’s power, he could have found Sonic after the incident at the baseball field. But he needed a reason to find Sonic, and a scientist destroying a tribe of people for a gem seems like a good reason. Might also explain why he’s hoping he’s not too late. Who knows how long it would take Robotnik to find the other Chaos Emeralds? They had to get to them first.

Sonic meets Miles, nicknames him Tails, and they hit it off immediately. Sonic is more than willing to help Tails track down the rest of these things. No way in hell Tom and Maddie are letting him go alone, so they’re coming too.

Tails doesn’t think to mention that it was an Echidna that told him about Sonic. Tom and Maddie are kind of suspicious about it at first (I thought no one else knew about him? Who is this guy and how does he know?) but Tails seems like a good kid and Sonic trusts him.

They find the first Chaos Emerald (there are probably many shenanigans that ensue, but I don’t know what the other planets are like so I can’t predict them). No one really knows what they should do with it. Keep it with them? But what if they’re confronted by Robotnik and he takes it somehow?

So Tails tell them that a friend of his back on the island that could watch over it. Robotnik wouldn’t think to go back there because he already attacked it once. That seems like a solid plan, so they go back. Sonic is thrilled to be back. Everything looks the same as it did. Except for… that part. That part looks like a warzone.

Now, why is Knuckles not part of this mission too? Not sure. Maybe he’s injured after the fight. It’s very probable that he would be. So he’s injured, grieving, worried sick about the eight year old he just sent looking for the one person that can stop Robotnik.

He’s relieved when he sees Tails with a hedgehog, who he correctly assumes is the being who can control the Emeralds’ power. He’s even relieved to see the two humans. At least someone is looking out for the kid since he’s not able to.

You know who’s not thrilled? I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.

The phrase ‘eyes glowing with rage’ is all too literal when it comes to Sonic. And he looks ready to explode on the spot. He immediately accuses Tails of betraying him, leading him to the people that killed the only person on the island that cared about him. He even throws in a spiteful ‘Miles’ because the name ‘Tails’ was only for friends.

Tails and Knuckles don’t have time to explain before Sonic takes off like a bullet. He’s out of sight in milliseconds, but you could hear the electric energy from a mile away.

Tom and Maddie decide to hear them out, because they obviously did need their help with Robotnik on the loose. Tails explains that Knuckles is the last of his kind and really isn’t much older than Sonic. He had nothing to do with what happened to Longclaw.

So Tom offers to go talk to Sonic (huzzah for fatherly life lessons), and Maddie offers to help fix up Knuckles as best as she can. Being a vet paid off in the weirdest ways sometimes.

While Tom explains what actually happened and that no one betrayed anyone, Knuckles and Tails have reluctantly opened up to Maddie.

Knuckles has been trying to keep up that rough and tumble attitude we know and love, but it’s kinda breaking down with this nice human wrapping his arm with the bandages she brought (because of course she brought bandages, she’s a vet and a mother) and asking if he was okay. He was not okay.

And Tails… well, where was Tails’ family? Did they know where he was? Any friends he could think of that might be able to help them? That ends in a solemn silence. Tails is family-less too, and his inventions aren’t always well received on an island that is almost completely organic. There was a very kind Rabbit mother and daughter that checked on him from time to time, but other than that? He was on his own.

Maddie makes a mental note to tell Tom that they’re adopting two more alien children and no it’s not up for discussion, they’re doing it (not that Tom would have argued with her anyway).

Tom returns with Sonic, who apologizes for accusing them of betrayal and murder. That’s when he and Knuckles finally realize they’re about the same age. (I’m gonna guesstimate Knuckles’ age at around 15/16). It’s baffling to the both of them.

When Knuckles heard about the powerful being his people had hunted, he had expected… not a teenager. And worse, it happened a decade ago.His people had hunted down a toddler and, apparently, killed his parent. He was a little more understanding of Sonic’s anger.

As for Sonic, Echidnas were pretty much cold-blooded murderers to him. He had never stopped to consider that there were also, you know, kids. And this kid had just lost… everything. He instantly feels terrible about his outburst. This guy didn’t even know who Longclaw was, much less what had happened to her.

But, emotional breakthroughs aside, they still have a huge problem and his name is Eggman. Or Robotnik. It really depended on who you asked. Either way, they needed to figure out which planet Robotnik was going to be at next. They decide to just collect the Chaos Emeralds they could and worry about Robotnik later.

Sonic gives Knuckles his set of rings, just in case. They have Tails’ so they should be fine. Off to the next planet to find an Emerald. It becomes clear that they’re gonna need a more efficient way of doing this, so Tails modifies the tracker he made for Sonic to track the Emerald’s energy instead.

It works, obviously, because Tails is a precious little genius. But no one stopped to consider how the mad scientist was finding the Chaos Emeralds. It makes sense that he would find a way to track their energy by using the one he found on the mushroom planet, but nobody thinks about that until Tails finds a way to do it.

Then they remember they just left Knuckles alone with a Chaos Emerald. They open up a portal to get him, but Robotnik is already there with a monologue about how how stupid they all were for assuming he wouldn’t return to this planet, he was the smartest individual, not just on Earth, but in the entire universe, and blah blah blah, psycho scientist banter, he’s Jim Carey and his blood is made of cocaine, you get the picture.

Cue rescue sequence for the resident Echidna of the group. They manage to get Knuckles and the Emerald away from the crazy doc, maybe even steal the ones that Robotnik has, Perhaps we even get a heartfelt response from Sonic because ‘you idiot why didn’t use the rings to escape, I told you to use them, we are not losing anyone else to this fight’.

And not to bring us to an abrupt halt right there, but as I’ve said earlier, we’ve got no idea what the other planets are like, so I can’t make any solid predictions. Though I guess you can’t call anything about this solid. It’s literally all speculation.

But, you know, they get the seven Emeralds somehow because teamwork. There’s probably a bunch of cool aliens to meet, some Chao maybe? That’d be rad. And, of course, tons of fight scenes because that’s what the Eggman vs. Sonic thing is all about. Who wins: A ex-government hired genius fueled by spite and pure rage or one Spikey Child and his Fam?

I’m thinking the final fight would have to take place one that circle in the middle, which I’ve already speculated could be a possible location for the Master Emerald. And that fight would. be. dope. I mean, it’s Super Sonic, for cryin’ out sideways!

Since the good guys always win the fights, Sonic and crew win. They probably wouldn’t kill him. Why would they? They’re the good guys. Knuckles very seriously considers it though. Like, Tom kinda puts a hand on his shoulder just to make sure he doesn’t because homeboy looks like he wants to shank the local nutcase, not that anyone blames him.

(this also serves a purpose for something else that always bugs me about Knuckles’ character, which is that he is very gullible when it come to Eggman, we see it all over the place with him. a scenario like this? eradicates that odd quirk in his personality without erasing any of his other good qualities. harmless pranks? sure, gullible as all get out. Tails and Sonic could even prank him at the end of the movie, and that’d be just the sweetest thing. but when it comes to Eggman? hell nah. nah nah nah, get that outta here.)

So they beat Eggman, maybe yeet him back to mushroom planet again–this time without any kind of tech. No ship for you, Eggy-Boy.

Then it’s time to go home. Here’s where it could go two different ways. Tails is going with Sonic, that seems pretty obvious at this point, and Knuckles could go back to Earth with them too if he wanted.

I don’t think he would, though. Being Guardian of the Master Emerald is an integral part to Knuckles’ character. And while, yes I would love to see him hanging out with Sonic and Tails more, I think this is something that will have to stay part of his history.

But if you think they aren’t inviting him over for Movie Night you are mistaken, sir. Knuckles is always invited to Movie Night. He doesn’t always accept, and that’s okay. They visit him too, just to see how he’s doing.

Sonic taught Knuckles and Tails to floss and that is a vital part of the sequel, shut up, yes it is.

And viola! Sequel! Oh, but of course we need a post-credit scene, don’t we? See Sonic being around the age of thirteen does have its benefits.

Because you see, that means we can give him two years of peace with Tails and his parents before before he’s fifteen, the age most Sonic incarnations seem to stick with.

Fifteen is old enough for a rival, right? Teenagers, you know what I mean.

And I’m not saying that Robotnik had the technology to replicate DNA and modify it, but I am saying… that he probably has that kind of tech laying around somewhere.

The government seems to fund the science department pretty well. And there’s a certain individual who followed Dr Robotnik around for a while, learning all his tricks. Mmmmmmmmmm-hmmmm. Agent Stone.

And I’m not saying Agent Stone is evil….

I’m saying:

What if Agent Stone created Shadow?

*aaaaaaand fade to black*

Now, if you made it this far… wow. Thank you! Like, seriously, holy shit. This was so long. I appreciate you for sticking it out with me. It took… a while to write. I don’t wanna admit the actual amount of time it took. But really, thank you for giving this a read.

#sonic the hedgehog the movie #sonic the movie #sonic the hedgehog #just #i don't have an explanation #this isn't even the first sequel i've written #it's rise of the guardians all over again #what am i supposed to do with these #they're just existing here on Tumblr #with no purpose #essentially useless #just like the dumbass that wrote 'em #idk what i'm doing #someone halp

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