#this feels incomplete but i finally managed to put into words a piece of what i've been mulling over for a while now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years

Note

hello I'm the person who asked imagine reader fem x Gojo. with the Arcade music, I wanted anguish with a happy ending, thanks and sorry for the incomplete order.

Summary: Gojo has to come to terms with killing someone he cares about…again. (spoilers for Gojo’s past arc)

Notes: Okay, I wrote three different scenarios. This one that’s posted, a second about an open relationship falling through, and one with a terminally ill reader-chan. And hated them all (It’d help if he had more humility too, cause he’d need to crawl back in most everything I thought of, and I can’t imagine this man crawling back to anyone). So, it kind of turned into a character study. So, this is the one I liked best I think, or could at least piece together into something coherent. I might revisit that second plot though for something else.

Long story short: I tried. :,(

A broken heart is all that's left I'm still fixing all the cracks

Satoru never truly opens himself up to people. Sure, he’s sociable, the friendly demeanor and air of confidence he puts on that somehow manages to draw common people to him like fish on a line isn’t even a lie. Gojo knows he’s strong, knows he’s good-looking and charismatic. Even now, he can flash a smile to the nervous woman opposite him in the train car, the one that’s been staring at him for a solid 30 seconds, and have her number in half the time if he really wanted.

The brief connection following their interaction wouldn’t be the same as letting her close to him.

Satoru accepted and acknowledged that it’s probably for the best, seeing as there was never another person that he feels could understand him after the last one. That relationship made his life's complications even more jumbled than they were originally to the point where even he finds it hard to straighten sometimes.

He didn’t have time to figure out how to piece everything together to present them in a way that’d be digestible for another person to even begin to understand. Let alone the fact that there wasn’t anyone he thought was worthy to even spend the time collecting all the pieces of himself.

Yet when he touches the boundaries of Sendai, he reaches for his phone readily and searches for the characters that make up your name.

“(Name)-chan,” he greets cheerfully. “Guess who boarded off in Sendai. Since you’re in town, why don’t you come to Kikusuian with me? My treat.”

There’s a soft scoff on the other side of the line, and he can already sense this will be a fight. The same kind of teasing you do to each other every day as your voice comes through with faux disgust. “Are you trying to talk me into that zunda mess again?”

Satoru smirks, recalling the day the two of you first met. He took you to get something to eat as he did with almost everyone he meets, and you so quickly turned your nose up at his offer of the green and white mochi. Now, you seldom reject an offer from him, only give a little fuss for show.

“I’m telling you it’s good. Come on. You wouldn’t make me go alone, would you? What if someone tries to kidnap me?”

“They’d bring you back in five minutes.”

He visibly winces at your words. “Ouch. What did I do to deserve this today?”

“I’m kidding. I’m already on the way.”

“I knew you loved me.”

“Well, I figured if it’s the great Gojo begging me for my time, I couldn’t say no.”

Gojo pouts even if he knows you can’t see it. “I wouldn’t call it begging…but I’m glad you get the idea.”

“Yeah, yeah. If you make me wait, I’ll buy out the shop and not share one piece with you.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Better hurry. I’m already 10 minutes away.”

Gojo clicks off his phone. He finally releases a deep sigh, waves off his seat partner, and heads out to meet you at the shop before you can make good on your threat. It doesn’t take long to meet you at the shop. You already have a bag of goods in your hand and a smile breaks out over your face as soon as you see him walking up.

It makes him smile, too.

Even if this occasion isn’t one worth smiling about.

Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home

Satoru doesn’t let people close to him.

Not after losing his best friend.

The day Satoru last talked to Suguru, truly talked to Suguru, waxes and wanes in his mind. Normally, he’s able to shove it back and not think about it whatsoever. On rare occasions, it’s on the forefront of his mind to remind him why he chose the path he did to rewrite the sorcerer world. He’d contemplate on it during the quiet hours of the morning before everyone gathered in the dining hall for breakfast, before Utahime cracked a wisecrack about him being lost in space, and before Nanami attempted to avoid him out of fear that Satoru would drag him into whatever nonsense the older sorcerer was contemplating.

Then, he’d sense someone, invading the frozen outlining of space, the external and internal infinity, he purposely keeps between himself and others.

Satoru didn’t stop you immediately, unsure why it takes more than a picosecond to throw on his guard when he knows full well what you are. When you got close to touching him, he quickly halted your advance. He bent his neck back to look up at you from your position above him. Your hands were angled towards the black blindfold over his eyes, twitching in eagerness.

A smile started to form on your face.

“You’re slacking, Satoru. I almost got you this time,” you said. “What’s the matter—getting old?”

“Not at all,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I did it to lure you in,” he said, reaching up to poke your nose.

You pulled back with a pout. “Do you really not want to show me your famous technique? You always mention how pretty your eyes are unless…do you perhaps have a lazy eye you’re embarrassed about? Astigmatism?”

Satoru scoffed at your observation. He couldn’t hide the amusement you managed to draw out of him as you slowly slid your way over to his side of the couch. “Of course not. I have 120-120 vision,” he said, tapping his temple where the blindfold lies.

Your mouth hanged slightly, and your eyes widen. “Wait, Six Eyes isn’t literal, is it?”

He cackled at your dumbstruck look. “Of course not. But it’s funny you thought that.”

With a pout and a roll of your eyes, you plopped down on the seat next to him. He looked your way with a smile, but it faltered upon seeing your concern. “But seriously, it seemed like something was wrong. Do you want to talk about it?” you asked.

For a half-second, he almost contemplated saying yes but instead waved it off. “I’m fine, just thinking about what to eat for breakfast.”

You nod.

“Alright,” you said, and he expected you to drop whatever interest you had in him as you stood to your feet and stretched. “Whenever you’re ready then. I won’t force you, but I’m here if you ever feel like it.”

You managed to cut down the smile on his face, if only for a second.

I've spent all of the love I saved

We were always a losing game

Satoru wouldn’t describe himself as a cold person.

He cares about the wellbeing of others, has no problem that the world has to rely on him as the strongest, to do what needed to be done. Satoru simply refuses to have to rely on someone else for support if it can be avoided as getting too attached complicated things.

Yet you wormed yourself in there some way.

No matter how many times he told himself not to get too attached to you, no matter how he tried to keep a thin layer of distance between the two of you once he realized you were beginning to crack his domain, he still found himself seeking out your company.

It’s the first time since those years ago that he’s felt a spark for anyone else, something more than fleeting attraction or a way to entertain himself. Satoru already knows the two of you will never work even if he did play into those creeping feelings clawing around in desperate search for the little corner left in his heart for deeper emotions other than basic instinct and occasional human decency.

Satoru was a sorcerer, and you were a curse user.

An informer.

A traitor.

One he was assigned to bring in from your assignment for interrogation and subsequent execution. Probably because the higher ups knew you were stronger than you let on and more likely to punish Satoru himself, to torture him just a bit more since there was no way they could touch him themselves.

If anyone asked, he’d say he only found out recently about your traitor status, but he knew all along. That’s why he stuck so close to you in an effort to watch your movements. It was a bit of a game to see when you’d slip up on all that false information he’d feed you.

Satoru couldn’t pinpoint though the exact moment that being around you became his choice. When after you’d share with him about your life, about being the only member left of your massacred clan and wanting to do good by them, he’d share a little bit about himself that may have actually been true.

Satoru never got close to answering why you’d want to work with curses. You seem way too softhearted to want a world built around pure strength if the smile you gave him was anything to go by.

Grinning, you teeter the brown paper bag, the white spun handle nuzzled in the first bend of your finger as you hold it out to him.

“I told you I’d pay for us,” Gojo says, and you shrug.

“The line was getting long besides you bought me lunch last time anyway,” you remind him and head towards the door to find a place to sit and eat before Gojo suggests the two of you could walk around town a bit instead. You follow along the sidewalk with him, believing that he called you out for a reason. “So, what’s up? You didn’t call me out just because you wanted to get sugar.”

“I told you already I didn’t want to go alone,” Gojo explains as he opens up the bag and looks for the familiar packet of sweets.

You laugh. “What’s wrong? Your students not giving you enough attention?”

“Not at all. Kikufuku is simply better in the presence of a pretty woman.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t me you missed at all. You just needed eye candy to go with your store candy,” you respond as if offended but the small hum you make as you chew your mochi makes your anger a clear farce.

“Of course not. You knew what I meant. You’ve been in Sendai forever. I missed having you around.”

“Yeah. I missed you too. What brought you to Sendai anyway. You have a mission?” you ask him with curious eyes, and Gojo collects the familiar feelings, finds the right voice to put on, and the best smile for the situation as he brings his finger to his lips.

“It’s top secret.”

“Even from me?”

“Especially from you.”

You pout, playful and childish, and he wonders for a second what kind of face you’d make if you knew the truth about why you had been shipped to Sendai these past weeks and why he was truly here. It makes his heart ache in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time, in a way he swore to himself he’d never let himself feel again. “I thought we were supposed to be friends.”

“We are.”

“Best friends?” you ask.

“2nd best friends,” he says. The spot in his heart for first was already taken by someone else, but there was also a special room that was for you that couldn’t be filled by his late best friend.

“Shame,” you murmur, walking slightly ahead of him, “Guess I’ll have to make Nanami my favorite after all since I’m only your second.”

“I’m way better than him in the friend department! Way funnier too,” Gojo complains, but the words feel like a lie on his mouth as he thinks about how you’d hang, head and body separated, those beautiful eyes blotted out with blood.

“I’m kidding.” You raise your hand and twist your fingers together, saying with a wink, “You’re a solid tie with him. But after tonight, you maybe move ahead of him. Maybe.” you tease but Satoru knows…he knows he’s your favorite.

And he enjoys the moment all the while trying to get the image of you cursing him with your final breath out of his mind.

All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

It isn’t far-fetched to say Satoru likes you. Loves even or at least the closest thing to love he’s ever felt and probably ever will.

It’s why he spends all night with you, hoping to give you one more good time where the two of you could be on the same side.

As you come up to the shrine on the edge of the downtown strip, he keeps questioning himself on why he hadn’t pushed you away more, why he hadn’t made a move to get rid of the threat you presented sooner.

“You’re right,” you tell him, finally finishing off the last of your snacks and stuffing the empty bag into the recycling bin. “Cream and zunda do go oddly well together.”

“I told you so,” he says cheerfully as you sit on a nearby stone bench together. Your head cranks up to look up at the sky as you comment on the shame of being unable to see the stars as dark clouds start to build up.

“Should probably head back and call it a night soon.”

“Probably,” Gojo agrees but he can’t help but think how true those words are for you. This would probably be your last night out once the school was finished with you, and he’d have to execute someone else he cares about.

It causes an ache in a small part of him he thought he sealed off long ago, that’s still desperate enough to open up, truly open, to another human being. Gojo slides his hands into his pockets while you release a deep sigh and begin to stare up at the little specks of stars that manage to peek through the cloud lining.

Satoru wishes the rain would hold off, that time would hold off a little longer so the two of you could make TikTok videos together again to stave off your shared boredom, maybe prank Nanami together before rating celebrities’ newest looks. He’d especially miss that pout you’d make when he’d poke your nose after catching you trying to bypass his infinity. He both hated and love those moments, because he did want to let you in but the idea of baring himself completely to you, being vulnerable, still made him uneasy for this exact reason. Yet he foolishly relished in your time together all the while resenting the fact that your fate would end up exactly like this.

Exactly like it always does when he makes a connection, no matter how small.

“Hey, Satoru…what would you do if I told you I wanted to kiss you?” Satoru tenses and whips his head back in your direction. Seeing his reaction, you turn your head back to the sky and mumble, “It’s alright if you don’t want to. I was just wondering.”

Gojo scowls, his eyes focusing on your face. Specifically, the softness of your lips as you gently suck on them to bring moisture back to your delicate arches. His memories sketch in the fact that you have beautiful lips. Kissable. “It’s not that I wouldn’t, but it doesn’t really seem fair to you,” he admits.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I don’t really think it’d be kind to kiss someone I’m supposed to be arresting. You know what I’m talking about, right, Ms. Traitor?”

You open your mouth to speak but quickly fall silent and purse your lips.

“Not going to deny it?”

Gojo hopes you’ll deny his accusation with some pretty excuse to prove to him that he’s wrong about the situation, yet he knows he’s right, and he also knows you know that any excuse you have wouldn’t be sufficient.

“No. It’s the truth. I’m a curse-user, not a sorcerer.”

Satoru grits his teeth at your confession. His suspicions finally solidified with real evidence that he can’t bury away due to his absurd feelings.

“To be honest,” you begin, picking at your pants leg. “I had figured that the elders had already figured it out. It’s the only reason I could think of for why they would keep me in Sendai for so long.”

“You know. You could’ve run away when I first called you if you knew.”

You laugh bitterly. “Please, you can warp, and I’m not arrogant enough to think that I’d win in a fight against you when you hunt me down. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think you’d steamroll me either, but you’d definitely kill me in the end.”

“I would,” he responds, and you scoot back slightly as if he’d attack you that very moment. Your desire to kiss him turning into a desire to put distance in between the two of you stinging him when he had in fact aimed those words at himself. To talk himself into the fact that he would kill you here and now, without giving you the chance to cause anyone pain should he hesitate this night, like before.

The only one who would be in pain at the end of this should be him.

Because he may be the strongest but he’s human too.

No matter how hard he tries to think himself higher.

“That’d probably be for the best.”

Confusion strikes him first, and he quickly has to pull together his thoughts to form a coherent question, “You want me to kill you?”

Your lip twitches as you try to find the voice to explain, “The curses already are trying to kill me, and the only other options are execution or torture then execution from Jujutsu Tech. At least with you I know you’d make it quick.”

Then, it’s something you say that breaks his chain of thoughts.

Had you made the curses angry as well?

“The curses you work with—why are they trying to kill you? Aren’t they your allies?”

You shake your head. “I stopped feeding them information months ago. Anything they know now has to be someone else.”

“Any idea who?”

“Not really.”

“Convenient.”

“It’s the truth. Guess they didn’t trust me enough, well, good for them that they didn’t.”

Gojo droops his shoulders, relaxing back once again as he pinches the bridge of his nose to try to collect all the information you’re feeding him, to debate whether to believe you or not.

“I still don’t understand. Why’d you choose to work with curses in the first place…They promise you a coatrack too?”

“I wish. I have way too many jackets,” you say, remembering that one of the other humans on the curses’ side was promised one for his cooperation. “I did it because sorcerers are evil. They had no problem wiping out my clan as soon as we stopped toeing the line with them. I didn’t think sorcerers deserved their place. That’s why I chose to work with curses,” you confess. “I thought you all work the same in the top clans, but you guys at the school are so different from what I thought sorcerers were like. I couldn’t find a reason to keep hating sorcerers. At least not all of them especially not you.”

Gojo blinks a few times, studying your face for any sign of a lie, but he couldn’t find any in the gentle look you give him as your fingers inch closer to his hand, lightly brushing his skin as he realizes that he let his guard off around you…like always.

“You don’t have to believe me, but I’m telling you the truth when I say it’s not me, Satoru.”

With you admitting all this to him, he couldn’t find it in himself to kill or capture you when your conscience is already set to atone, the words you give instantly giving lifting the weight off his chest that he wouldn’t have to kill. Not this time. And replacing it with another pleasant, burning feeling. A selfish one. And he smiles, knowing that the higher ups would have another reason to want his head mounted on the wall.

“Calm down,” Gojo interrupts. He pulls his hand away from yours to bring it to the top of your head, lifting your gaze up to meet his. “I’ve already decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“So, you are going to turn me in? If that’s the case, I’ll have no choice but to go out fighting you.”

“Nope!” he says, gleefully bopping your nose with his finger before he takes a more serious tone, “If you’re no longer feeding information, then there’s not much of a point in killing you other than some petty revenge. Luckily in this case, I don’t feel the need for it.”

“You believe me then?” you question skeptically. “You…really trust me? What if I’m lying to you?”

Gojo hums, digging his finger in the top of his fold and pulling it down to study you. Immediately, you tense, but not from fear but fluster as it’s the first time you’re seeing his face. Gojo flashes a quick grin, the same smile he gives when he catches a woman staring at him, and you do what they all do and suddenly stare hard at your feet as you shyly debate meeting his eye.

“Yeah. You’re being honest,” he says, and hesitantly you raise your head to meet his gaze.

“How can you tell?” you breath out softly.

“It’d be no fun if I told you all that now,” Gojo says with a wink causing you to huff softly. Though, the simple answer is that he’d be a lousy person if he couldn’t tell when a close friend of his was lying to him. He pats your head, like a person pets a beloved child. “Well, that’s that. Let’s go home.”

“Home?” you ask.

“To the school. You said you wanted to stay with us.”

“Satoru, I,” you begin unsurely.

“It’s fine. Let me handle everything. The higher-ups already want my head mounted on a wall, so why not give them another reason to do it,” he says confidently, and you frown as a soft apology comes out your lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

You glance at his back broad in front of you, the relax posture and carefree whistling as he walks inviting you to catch up to his side. “I’m trusting you, Satoru. ...Don’t lie to me.”

Satoru looks to you, your eyes soft and pleading as they scan him for any sign of danger as you take the first nervous steps behind him.

“You can count on me,” he pipes out, “Just save that kiss for me as a reward and also maybe mention to Nanami that I’m your favorite now.”

You laugh, a beautiful sound to him. “Deal.”

Still I carried, I carried, I carried on

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #songfic

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midnightsconspiracy · 3 years

Text

The Missing Piece

The Missing Piece - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Hank being jealous of your and Jay’s platonic relationship leads to a relationship of his own

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1801

Requested: Yes!!

‘I need some jealous hank pleeease 😩💖🙏🏻’

A/N: This is my least favourite thing I’ve written so far, I just feel like it doesn’t flow well but we move :)

I only have one request at the moment so send in as many as you like, trust me when I say this you are not ‘bothering’ or inconveniencing me at all, I love when people message me or send requests in. So don’t overthink it, just do it!!! :)

Masterlist

Your life always felt incomplete, like something was missing, but you could never put your finger on what the thing was. You had a modest apartment, a positive relationship with your family and a job with co-workers you absolutely adored. So what left did you have yet to find? Every having romantic relationships in the past left you feeling that way still, a void that could only be filled by a specific something, without knowing what it was. It was infuriating, finally feeling happy with your life but still, there was a piece of you missing, a bit that felt empty. But maybe you would find that something was nearer than you thought, and maybe that something was a someone.

The day started off as normal, getting up, making breakfast then heading out to start the day at your job in intelligence. Pulling into the car park you noticed Jay beside you, sitting In his car, reading something on his phone. Looking up as you got out of your car, he smiled, proceeding to also get out of his vehicle, greeting you just like he did each day. You walked into the district together and to the upstairs intelligence unit, talking about some recent gossip while having the same playful conversation, laughing with huge smiles on your faces. Once you had reached the unit’s floor, you both headed to the coffee machine, needing your caffeine fix before you started. Noticing that others already seemed to be deep in work, you closed the door behind you, hoping to keep as much noise in as possible. Drinking your coffee, you continued talking to Jay, putting off work for as long as possible and wanting to know anything new that could get from the man. Any time you conversed with him, it always had an unconsciously flirty undertone, not because you liked him that way, but because it was in both of your natures, not being able to turn it off specifically for each other. After a while, you still hadn't noticed that the coffee had been drunk already, the time having flown by, neither of you realising you should have started working ten minutes ago.

Unaware to you, Voight was in his office, working on some files from a case that had been passed down to him from people higher up, stress levels increasing with each sentence he read. The sound of yours and Jay’s conversation breached the walls, seeping into his office, making him angrier than he already was. ‘Why did you have to flirt with Jay all the time, was he not good enough for you?’ He thought to himself, the attraction he had for you clouding his mind. Clenching his jaw, he went back to reading his document, knowing when he thought about you too much it bought out his emotions, and that’s not what he needed right now. But he couldn’t help it when he heard your laugh, knowing it wasn’t caused by him, but instead Jay. That man was a damn good detective but also a bloody good flirt, and in Hank’s eyes that made him a threat. He wanted you badly, having liked you since you’d first joined the unit, although Jay was not the only thing in the way. The biggest problem was himself. He was so insecure, thinking that if he did eventually have the courage to ask you out, you would say no. It was just you were so much younger than him, and much better looking and just all these other things that made him think you were better suited to someone like Jay. However, that still didn’t stop him from getting angry when Jay was buttering you up. Suddenly, he stood up, not being able to stand hearing you and Jay in the room next door anymore. Swinging the break room door open, he stood in the doorway, a stern expression on his face. As soon as the door had open, you and Jay had turned towards the intrusion. Noticing it was just Voight, you both relaxed, thinking he was going to idly chat with two of his favourite detectives.

“Hey Sarg, there is some coffee leftover if you want some,” Jay started, not thinking anything of Hank’s expression, considering he usually had a scowl on. This set the flames alight as the detective completely overlooked the anger he held in his eyes.

“Both of you should be working by now! You’re ten minutes late to start and I don’t appreciate you spending that time In here having fun and joking when you both know damn well there is a case you could be helping to solve,” he shouted, not only startling you and Jay, but also your fellow detections who had looked up from where they were working away quietly.

“Sorry Voight, guess we didn’t realise that time had gone past so fast,” Jay tried to rationalise, not understanding why Voight was getting so aggravated for something that would usually just result in a slap on the wrist.

“Get to work, both of you. Plus you both know the rules about in house dating, so sort out whatever this is out immediately.” And before either of you could tell him otherwise, he had stomped back to his office, slamming the door shut in the process. Looking at Jay, you gave him a confused look, trying to figure out why your boss had come up with these conclusions as you returned to your desk.

Throughout the day, you noticed multiple strange things happening. Firstly, Jay refused to look at you at all, looking at the wall or ground anytime you would address the room or would look away as quickly as possible if you accidentally made eye contact. It was abnormal, to say the least, considering you at Jay were usually tied at the hip, spending a lot of time together, both inside and outside of work. It had started even before Voight had split you up and assigned everyone in the unit new partners. Maybe you had subconsciously annoyed him? That you didn’t know but you tried your best throughout the day to get him to even acknowledge you, but each time failing completely. The second strange thing was the looks you were getting from both Hank and Alvin as well as the looks they were giving each other. Anytime you would look up from your work, you would spot one of them staring intently at you, then quickly retreating to look at each other. The ones from Olinsky seemed to be those of intrigue as if they were trying to gauge your reaction. But the ones from Voight seemed different. How it was different you couldn’t really pinpoint, but it seemed to be more out of fondness and concern, but you couldn’t really be sure, barely seeing it before he looked away. God, what was it with all these men today? One not wanting to look at you at all, the others wanting to look at you all the time it seemed. Eventually, you and your new partner Olinsky were sent out to talk to some woman. Wanting to know if she was aware of the illegal activity her boyfriend was running. After receiving some useful information, you both got back in the car, settling in for the short car ride ahead. A couple of minutes into the drive you turned to him, adamant about getting answers on why these men had been unnecessarily watching you all day.

“Why do you and Voight keep looking at me?” You ask abruptly, wanting to catch him off guard so he would answer your damn question.

“You should speak to Voight in his office after shift.” He replied, the car falling back into silence for the rest of the journey.

The statement played on your mind for the rest of the day, but finally, you would get some answers as the shift came to a close. Waiting for everyone else to leave, you wrote your statement longhand, knowing it would eat more time up. As the last person left the room, you got up, walking into your boss' office, closing the door behind you. He looked at you as you entered, holding an undistinguishable expression on his face, despite the nervous disposition he held inside.

"Detective Y/LN, what can I do for you," he asked, looking down at his papers as if he didn't care, although his brain was screaming at him to do something!

"You keep looking at me." You bluntly stated, wanting to pull him out of his comfort zone and get the answers Olinsky wouldn't give you.

"You are my agent arent you? Therefore I am entitled to look at you." Gazing up at you, he stared into your pretty eyes, resisting the urge to just get up and kiss you.

"B-but, this is different. You keep glancing at me as if you have some sort of adoration for me," thinking he was going to look up and find a disgusted expression, he was surprised as he found nothing but a small smile upon your face.

"Maybe I do, but that doesn't matter though does it? Considering you are seeing Detective Halstead." Confusion, once again fell on your features, still not understanding why he thought this madness, you are Jay were merely just friends.

"Me and Jay? We're just- Wait what did you say? Y-you, feel for me?" The confused look on your face deepened, never thinking this would happen. You weren't unhappy by any means, thinking very fondly of the handsome Sergeant, but he was your boss so why would he go for someone like you when he could have Burgess or even Platt! Rounding his desk, he walked towards you, stopping at a comfortable distance, not too far, not too close.

"Do you deem that as a bad thing?" Stumbling on your words, you managed to mutter a 'no', as you looked back into his eyes, finding a warmness there that started filling that void inside you. Not thinking, you flung your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, placing your head in the crook of his neck as you inhaled his scent. Maybe he was that missing piece?

"Jay and I are just friends and will always just be friends Hank," you told him, removing an arm from his neck to softly stroke his cheek. He gradually tightened his arms around your waist as you reassured him of the matter.

"So you would mind me doing this?" He asked, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, full of passion, portraying all the things he'd ever want to say to you.

Just as his wish had come true, yours had too, as that missing piece of you started to make its way back to you.

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #hank voight x reader #hank voight #hank voight imagines

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sage-nebula · 3 years

Text

Incomplete list of Wishshipping things that make me want to scream:

— In his own words, Jounouchi “never liked [himself] at all” until he met Yuugi, and in fact hated himself. It wasn’t until he returned the piece of the Puzzle he stole that he, “for the first time in [his] life, [he] started to like [himself] a little.”

— Yuugi considered the Millennium Puzzle his “treasure” because he felt that it would grant his wish of having friends (or probably more accurately a best friend since he was friends with Anzu at the time) once he managed to complete it. The Puzzle didn’t actually have that power, but Yuugi never acknowledges that because the Puzzle is what brought him and Jounouchi together, thus fulfilling his wish.

— Being with Yuugi helped Jounouchi be less self-conscious about the geeky things he was interested in, the silly way he liked to act, and how manly he had to appear. It took time, but his relationship with Yuugi helped him be more true to himself in public and care less about what other people thought of him.

— Being with Jounouchi helped Yuugi open up as well. In Yuugi’s own words, Jounouchi, “taught [him] that [he] wasn’t alone, gave [him] courage.” While Yuugi was never actually timid, he was a lot more withdrawn and more passive before he became friends with Jounouchi, and had that sunshine warm up his life.

— Jounouchi fought a guy while holding the blade of a knife between his teeth to get Yuugi’s Puzzle back for him, because it was important to Yuugi and therefore worth risking death for in Jounouchi’s eyes. (Although to be honest, Jounouchi never had a doubt he’d win that fight. But still.)

— “I’ll never give up on you. So don’t give up on yourself, okay, Yuugi?”

— Even though it put him at a disadvantage, Yuugi gave up one of his star chips to Jounouchi without hesitation so that Jounouchi would have a shot at winning the Duelist Kingdom prize money for Shizuka’s operation. Also, in the manga, the two of them never dueled over it; it was mutually agreed upon that Yuugi (and Atem) would go on to fight Pegasus, and that Yuugi would just give Jounouchi the prize money if / when he won because he had no use for it, and Jounouchi and Shizuka did.

— Jounouchi having everyone else get the hell out of the Black Crown fire while he stays behind with Yuugi, because saving the Puzzle is important to Yuugi, and Yuugi is important to Jounouchi, so if Yuugi has to stay there, then . . . “Yuugi, I’ll stand with you on the edge of the River Styx. But I won’t let you cross over!” And he doesn’t; he carries Yuugi (and the Puzzle) right out of that burning building.

— Jounouchi threatening to deck Atem if Atem ever makes Yuugi feel inadequate or bad about himself in Duelist Kingdom. (He was a little confused since Yuugi and Atem share a body, but he’s got the spirit.)

— Yuugi insisting on being the one to duel Jounouchi at the pier because Jounouchi was his first (best) friend and Jounouchi means that much to him.

— Yuugi giving the Puzzle to Jounouchi because he figures he’s not making it out of the duel alive and he wants Jounouchi to take the Puzzle if that’s the case.

— “You taught me that I wasn’t alone, you gave me courage . . . you’re my most precious friend. Jounouchi-kun . . . I love you . . .”

— Yuugi taking that hit to die for Jounouchi, and then Jounouchi awakening Red-Eyes to attack him so that he can die for Yuugi to the point where he leaves his own key on the pier instead of grabbing it before swinging over to Yuugi’s side.

— “Yuugi . . . I’m sorry . . . thank you . . .” with the most serene smile on his face.

— Yuugi saying, “Together we protected what was precious to us . . . that’s all” when Jounouchi is trying to apologize about being mind controlled during the pier duel, and what they protected was each other, meaning they are precious to each other, kill me. (I believe VIZ translated this different because of course they did, but that’s what he says in the JP version of the manga.)

— The fact that they wear matching wristbands.

— Yuugi having a complete and utter breakdown when Jounouchi is killed during the finals.

— Jounouchi being the only one sure that Yuugi will win during the Ceremonial Duel whenever Sugoroku wasn’t sure how the duel was going to shake out. (VIZ again messed up a translation in the English version to make Jounouchi say he’s not sure who will win, but in the JP version he is very sure Yuugi will come out on top. “Come on, Yuugi . . . show him your strength!”)

— While he will not hesitate to break someone’s face for messing with Yuugi, overall Jounouchi learns to channel his anger into more positive outlets (i.e. gaming) as a result of his relationship with Yuugi, and while that is due in part to Jounouchi being a huge geek who loves games, it could also be due to the fact that Yuugi hates violence and Jounouchi doesn’t want to upset Yuugi / wants to be a person Yuugi is proud to call his best friend / will love.

— The way Jounouchi smiles at Yuugi all the damn time and has the brightest smiles for Yuugi even first thing in the morning.

— As well as how Jounouchi can always tell immediately when something is bothering Yuugi and makes it known right then and there he will throw down that instant if that’s what it takes to make Yuugi feel better, but also respects Yuugi’s boundaries when Yuugi says he’s got it.

— Basically how they just love each other so much and bring out the best in each other and are beautiful and perfect and I love them.

#I could go on for ages but as I said this is an incomplete list #they are perfect and I love them #wishshipping #yugioh #jounouchi katsuya #mutou yuugi #you ever think about how they get engaged and married in the future? because I do and it's great #yuujou

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i-ship-therefore-i-am · 3 years

Text

my kingdom come undone

I wrote a thing. Inspired by this post by @lanzhanshands about an AU where Lan Zhan is forced to kill Wei Wuxian. (Ugh, how DARE) 2500 words, wangxian

Warnings: self-harm, suicide, violence, death, blood

my kingdom come undone

if I am doomed to death, then at least I could be killed by you

Wei Ying has lost control.

The buildings themselves are starting to crumble, the very earth beneath their feet screaming with rage, as if to shake them all off, to free itself completely of the living. Cultivator or servant, old or young.

Even the Jiang clan is no longer being protected, just swarms and swarms of puppets lashing and tearing them all to pieces.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji barks, voice booming above the fray. There is no way he has not heard it, and yet there is no reaction, no pause in his playing, not the tiniest flicker.

There’s nothing in his eyes anymore, nothing left but the resentment, leaving them dull and flat and lifeless. His skin pale and deathly, the telltale black lines crawling up over his neck. It’s clear he doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore, that he’s not Wei Ying anymore. That his control is gone.

Lan Wangji’s greatest fear unfurling right in front of him.

Wei Ying is the eye of the storm, the relentless, rotting resentful energy is thicker and more violent the closer Lan Wangji comes, pressing through and grunting slightly at the impact against his chest, his thigh—the burning, mournful screech of it. He does not stop.

Does not dare stop.

Once close enough, he pulls Bichen free and attacks. “Wei Ying! Stop this now!”

They fight, Wei Ying with just his flute to counter and parry, slipping under and away from Lan Wangji’s strikes, and for a while it seems their same endless draw, but Lan Wangji knows himself to be the superior swordsman. Especially now.

He has been holding back.

“Wei Ying,” he tries one more time, ignoring the curl and burn of resentful energy whipping against his body. “Stop this.”

Please.

The spread of Wei Ying’s lips reveals blood-stained teeth, and when next his flute lifts to his lips, the shrill, shrieking note is for Lan Wangji.

Meant to kill.

He barely dodges and deflects the resentful energy made solid and lifts his sword with deadly intention. There is no more time to hold back.

Lan Wangji’s strike hits home, Bichen sliding relentlessly into Wei Ying’s chest, going all the way through, and Lan Wangji’s wrist is twisting on instinct, muscle memory of endless practice brutally finishing the move. Blood immediately gushes from Wei Ying’s mouth, his entire body jerking.

The dark energy pulses and screams with rage, the wind and dust picking up, stinging Lan Wangji’s eyes and cheeks.

They have seen Wei Ying pull an arrow straight from his chest and continue on as if nothing, but this time he will not. Wei Ying’s limbs are already twitching, muscles spasming erratically.

Yet his empty hand lifts, striking out, latching onto Lan Wangji’s wrist, the skin so cold and cracked against his own. It isn’t an attack though, but something much worse.

“Lan Zhan,” he breathes, soft and garbled, and for that tiny moment, his eyes are once again his own. So warm and full even as they are red-rimmed and pained.

Everything seems to freeze, everything else dropping away. For Lan Wangji there is nothing but Wei Ying.

He thinks there must be tears on his face, but he doesn’t care, hasn’t let it make him hesitate.

There is the slightest smile curving Wei Ying’s lips as he looks back at Lan Wangji, his face impossibly pale, blood gushing down to the ground. He nods once, as if to accept his fate, Lan Wangji’s judgment, and then his eyes drift shut, leaving him looking almost peaceful.

“Lan Zhan,” he mumbles one more time, a faint echo like a distant ghost.

He slumps, his fingers falling away from the back of Lan Wangji’s hand, but before Lan Wangji can even think to reach for him or pull back his sword, or save him, save him, save him—the world explodes, the Stygian Tiger Amulet shattering into countless pieces, a single name a piercing shriek in the wind.

Wei Wuxian! Wei WUXIAN!

Resentful energy bursts outwards, a solid, punishing wind, knocking people to the ground. Lan Wangji stumbles back, leaning hard into it, arm lifting.

Behind and around him, the puppets fall quickly, docile now without anyone to command them, cut down quickly by survivors or merely melting back into the ground with a mournful wail that shudders the earth.

Moorless. Uncontrolled. Their master dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

The blast knocked Lan Wangji back, far enough for Bichen to slide free of Wei Ying’s chest. When Lan Wangji recovers enough to look, Wei Ying is crumpled to the ground, boneless and ungainly.

His eyes are open again, now unfocused, inert.

Empty.

There is cheering, somewhere in the distance, which makes no sense, rattles irritatingly against Lan Wangji’s skin, but he can’t really focus on that, instead staring at the body at his feet, the slow drip of blood off the end of Bichen where he still holds it.

He’s waiting, maybe. To feel something?

Waiting for Wei Ying to rise and smile and do one more impossible thing?

But the stillness and the silence only grow and grow and grow and the waiting is now a writhing, furious thing, something cracking in half inside of him, withering and decaying.

No. No. No. No.

It slowly grows, the wail that wants to rip out of his throat. The furious rage at the world that led them to this. Every misstep, every wasted moment, every missed opportunity.

He wonders what his own eyes look like, if there is anything but emptiness to see. If he can possibly survive one more moment of the inescapable, sheering pain.

Lan Wangji does the only thing he can think to do to make it stop and lifts Bichen, the blood and metal catching the light.

“Wangji, no!”

But his brother’s voice is soft and distant where the blade is blessedly sharp and close to his neck. One quick motion is all it takes.

He falls to his knees, sword tumbling from numb fingers as he reaches for Wei Ying and death.

Refusing to let Wei Ying again go where he cannot follow.

***

Xichen must flood his body with every fleck of spiritual power he has to keep his gaping neck together, to keep blood flowing in Lan Wangji’s body and not out. There are others too, maybe. Outnumbering him.

He does not want to be saved. Fights against it. Rages with what little strength he has.

“Wangji, stop it!”

He doesn’t want to.

But it is the one time Lan Wangji’s strength fails him. He has done, as always, what is necessary. Denying himself all else. He has always been strong. But not in this.

Even in this one final wish is he denied.

But there will be moments. Opportunities. No one can be watched at all times.

The first time he truly wakes, now in a bed in Cloud Recesses, there are small arms wrapped tight around his thigh, a child’s body curled trustingly against his.

A-Yuan.

Lan Wangji lifts his eyes to his brother, sitting calming nearby, but eyes sharp. He has played a dirty trick and knows it, watches to see what will come of it.

Lan Wangji squeezes his eyes shut, feeling tears streaming down his face, soaking into his hair and the bandage still wrapped around his neck.

He puts his hand down on the small child’s head and nods.

Perhaps living will be the true punishment deserved.

***

The scar is a rippled, monstrous thing. Bichen’s blade is sharp and efficient, but Lan Wangji’s fight against being saved has warped and stretched the wound, his refusal ripping it open time and again. It takes most of his voice with it.

He can speak, but his words are rough and incomplete, each syllable a painful struggle. He’s always had little use for words, now he will have even less. He saves whatever words he has all for A-Yuan, who never flinches at the bruising sound. Who never stares at the scar, who touches him freely without fear.

A constant reminder of the only other person ever to do so.

“Body?” is one of the first words Lan Wangji manages to force out to his brother.

He braces himself to hear of a callus punishment, Wei Ying’s body burned and cremains spread recklessly, giving his soul no place to find peace, no place to tether it.

“There was no body,” Xichen says.

Lan Wangji gives him a sharp look.

“The resentful energy…it seemed to rebound back. It devoured him.”

When he is able, Lan Wangji drags himself upright behind his guqin and sends his questions out into the ethos.

Are you there?

Are you at peace?

Do you hate me?

Inquiry has no answer for him, year after year, and he begins to understand that Wei Ying is not just gone from this world, but gone from existence.

Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.

***

Lan Wangji walks the world, first to share it with A-Yuan, to let him see things for himself and not as described in books and lectures through others’ agendas. To let him learn his own judgment and beliefs. And later to bring whatever justice and order he can to the forgotten, the people the sects either do not see or do not wish to see.

He wears the scar unflinchingly. Refusing to hide it from sight. Not proud, not embarrassed. Just another part of him.

People learn not to call him a hero if they don’t wish a sword drawn against them.

They fear him now too.

As they should. He is a ghost. Just one more corpse at Wei Ying’s disposal. And perhaps this transformation is the Yiling Patriarch’s one last great feat.

***

When Wei Ying is born back into the world, Lan Wangji is there to stand by his side, to keep this world from destroying him yet again.

Lan Wangji had never known what to say to him before, how to speak to him, and now even less, so his silence seems right. Wei Ying never asks about the injury that took his voice, just gives him long looks, his eyes lingering on the scar. It is hard to know what he remembers and what he doesn’t.

Lan Wangji keeps him safe, helps him unravel the mystery of a sword ghost that becomes a blade that becomes a murder and spilled secrets of using the Yiling Patriarch as a scapegoat for power grabs and petty revenge. Of each manipulated step that dragged Lan Wangji’s blade into Wei Ying’s heart.

He stays by his side and keeps him safe, always knowing it is not his space to occupy. That he does not have the right to it. He is a shield and nothing more.

Meaning he does not deserve to feel anything like pain when Jin Guanyao holds Wei Ying by the throat, Bichen gleaming a mere inch from the throb of Wei Ying’s pulse in a failed attempt to free him. When Jin Guanyao laughs and strikes out mercilessly.

“I always knew it would end here again, Lan Wangji, with your sword buried deep in Master Wei’s chest. How I look forward to seeing that again.”

“Never,” Lan Wangji whispers and seals his spiritual power without daring to look at Wei Ying.

When it is done, each bitter truth dragged out and unfurled and Wei Ying finally free, Lan Wangji follows him out onto the road.

He stops at the first curve.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks, looking back to see why he hasn’t followed.

He unsheathes Bichen, closing the distance between them, watching for alarm in Wei Ying’s eyes, but there is only curiosity and trust.

It cuts worse than anything else.

Reaching out, Lan Zhan takes Wei Ying’s hands and carefully wraps them around Bichen’s hilt.

“Lan Zhan, what are you—”

Lifting the blade towards himself, Lan Wangji falls to his knees in front of him. Sizhui is grown and safe. Wei Ying is free. He has paid as much debt as he can without this.

Wei Ying looks between him and the blade, his face paling. “Lan Zhan, you can’t be serious.”

“Wei Ying,” he rasps, leaning towards the blade. Yearning for it. “Please.”

“No!” Wei Ying says, not dropping Bichen in the dirt, but swinging the blade away, tucked safely behind him. “Why would I—Do you really want to die this badly?”

He feels himself sway. “It is what I deserve.”

It’s what I did to you.

“No, it’s not,” he says hotly. “How could you ever deserve that!”

Lan Wangji lowers his face, staring down at the ground.

“Lan Zhan. You think I—? I don’t blame you, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying drops to the dirt in front of him, his hands taking his. “Deep down, I always knew I could count on you to stop me if I went too far. I don’t remember much, I really don’t. But I don’t doubt that I needed to be stopped. That you did the right thing.”

Lan Wangji squeezes his eyes shut, throat burning from too many words, stretching him to his very limit. “I failed you.”

“No, Lan Zhan, no.”

There’s a long, protracted silence and Lan Wangji forces himself to just wait. He feels like he’s been waiting forever. Like this is all he has ever done.

Wei Ying’s fingers on his throat make him flinch, but if he wishes to strangle him instead, he will take that as well. But the fingers are gentle instead of rough. Far too gentle.

“Tell me how this happened, Lan Zhan,” he says, voice so soft.

Lan Wangji presses his lips together, shaking his head.

“If you will give me something, give me that.”

Everything inside him revolts against it. But what right does he have to deny Wei Ying anything? “I tried to follow you,” he says, each word a struggle, like he might soon feel blood on his tongue, his vocal chords screaming in agony. “But you are always going where I cannot follow.”

On his wrist, Wei Ying’s hand trembles. “Lan Zhan,” he says, voice nearly broken as his own. “Lan Zhan.”

He forces his eyes up, and Wei Ying is crying.

“It wasn’t fair to ask it of you. I see that now. I never thought…”

That killing him would be as good as killing himself?

“I didn’t know what I was asking of you.”

And then Wei Ying’s arms are wrapping around him, pulling him in close, relentlessly drawing him into the eye of his storm.

Lan Wangji grabs him back immediately, burying his face in his shoulder, so weak, so unable to resist. “Wei Ying,” he says in his garbled, bruised voice.

He is alive, he is alive, he is alive.

“I’m sorry,” Wei Ying says, over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

Something inside Lan Wangji is cracking wide open, when he thought there was nothing solid left to begin with. Just ruins and shards.

Wei Ying does not stop, words endlessly tumbling. “You must know, you must know, that I cannot live in a world without you in it, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji’s body trembles, the soft roundness of longing he has denied himself for so long struggling to be free, to pour over the sharp edges.

“Stay. Stay. Stay,” he begs.

Slowly, Lan Wangji lifts his hand to the back of Wei Ying’s head, fingers burying in his hair.

He nods.

***

He dreams of it always. Waking sweating and crying, Wei Ying’s name ripping from his ruined throat. The phantom feel of dust in his eyes and blood slick on his hands.

Wei Ying is always there, gathering him close, lips pressing to his cheeks, his forehead, his throat. Arms and legs wrapped around him as he murmurs quietly to him in the dark, his bright heat burning everything else away.

“I love you, Lan Zhan. I love you. I’m here and I will never go where you cannot follow.”

Each time Lan Zhan lets out a shuddering breath, and digs his fingers into Wei Ying’s back, pulling him impossibly close. Focuses on the steady thud of Wei Ying’s heart against his chest.

And chooses life all over again.

.fin.

#the untamed #fic #wangxian #tw: suicide #tw: self harm #AU #this kept wanting to turn into a fifty thousand word epic #but I held firm #still want to write WWX's impression of this LWJ from the other side though

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thekidultlife · 3 years

Text

Plot: After an unexpected encounter with Yoon Jeonghan during a baby shower, more memories unfold from your mind, and his.

Genre: slice of life, angst

Pairing: Jeonghan + fem!reader + Mingyu

Warnings: a bit of explicit language

A/N: Many thanks to my incredibly amazing beta reader, @secndlife, for helping me make this beautiful! Also, I would like to express my gratitude to @xuseokgyu for taking the time to make lovely banners and even a teaser for this series! You are both a joy to work with and I am so blessed to have you both help me. 🧡 Lastly, to our followers and readers who are continually supporting this blog despite its inactivity, thank you! More details about my future works will be addressed after this fic.

Taglist: @haotheheckk, @jeonjungkaka, @soonhoonsol, @fluffyhyeju, @minkwans

“If you love me like you tell me, please be careful with my heart. you can take it, just don’t break it — or my world will fall apart.”

🍁🎧🧡

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley you were walking on were damp from the rain that had recently poured. It was chipped and uneven in some places, and your thin-strapped sandals would sometimes slip and get stuck between the cobblestones. Despite the imperfections of this street, you had come to love it, just like every other self-respecting college student living around the vicinity. Behind you, the signage of restaurants and thrift stores flashed in bright neon blues and violets, blending with the honey-golden glow of the lights coming from the shops and apartment buildings that rose around you.

This alley was the most beautiful place to go to in the city.

It was a beautiful Saturday night, too, and in your opinion, you had spent it well.

You were walking back to the dorms with your friends and a couple of seniors. You were in the back of the group, where it was quieter. Clutching your arm was Jung Mirae, one of your roommates, who was struggling to walk straight after too many beers.

In the process of half-dragging Mirae, an alarm from your phone rang. You hasted to get it switched off.

Bright laughter pierced the stillness as the ones just a few steps ahead of you, Park Hyewon and Lee Joonyoung, your best friends besides Mirae, kept on cracking jokes that would make the whole group roar with laughter. You giggled at their ridiculousness occasionally while trying to keep Mirae on her feet.

Hangout nights are incomplete without these two, you thought to yourself, as you studied long-legged, pink-haired Hyewon and the tall, broad-shouldered Joonyoung. You watched as they made mean comments at each other and then made up for the teasing by giving each other kisses.

“Gross!” someone called out from behind you, and you could not help but smile.

Joonyoung turned around and playfully gave the finger to the person who had shouted out. "Go get yourself a girlfriend, Sunwoo! It's clear to me that you’re in need of love.”

The group snickered at Joonyoung's words.

As you listened to everyone talk about how good the night was and how hellish the next week would be with final exams coming up, you felt cold fingers touch your cheek.

You turned to Mirae, who was looking up at you with quizzical—albeit drunken—eyes.

“Hey, Y/N." Mirae’s voice was loud and clear in the narrow alley. You brushed her hand away gently. "Why are you crying?”

“What do you mean?” You put a hand over her mouth and tried to tell her to stop spouting off nonsense, but it was then that you felt it—the wet trickle of tears on your face. Surprised, you wiped them away with your hand.

It was true.

You were crying.

The walking paused. Footsteps ceased over the cobbled pavement as everyone halted to look over at you. Your cheeks reddened at the unwanted attention.

“Y/N, is something wrong? Here, let me have Mirae.” One of your classmates reached out to take Mirae.

“Thank you.” I think I drank too much, you despaired, as you kept wiping at your face and waving people away. You made attempts to control your emotions, but nothing could stop the tears from coursing down your cheeks.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you kept saying over and over with a hoarse voice that almost didn’t sound like you. “Keep walking, please! Don’t mind me. I think I just drank too much.” You gave a shaky laugh and rubbed your eyes. “I get like this sometimes. Sorry.”

“You did not drink too much tonight, though,” someone commented dubiously. The others agreed and continued to look at you with confused expressions. "You never do."

“Jin-ah is right. And you don’t ‘get like this sometimes,’ babe.” Just a few feet away from you and leaning against Joonyoung, Hyewon crossed her arms. Her face, full of concern over your sudden outburst of emotions, made her look as though she hadn’t spent the night drinking as much as the guys did. “What's wrong?”

“I really don’t know, to be honest.” You pushed a strand of hair away from your face and made a poor attempt to smile at Hyewon. "I think it’s just the beer. Really."

Hyewon looked like she didn’t want to stop questioning you.

Please don’t ask me anything more, you begged with your eyes.

Joonyoung nudged Hyewon casually.

"Okay." Hyewon shrugged as she reluctantly conceded to your lame answers. She walked up to you, linked her arm with yours, and turned to grin at the others placatingly. “Let’s go home for real, gang! I think my girlfriend here just needs to sleep.”

Everyone nodded, put on happy faces, and eagerly put the awkward scene behind them. They once again started with the jokes and laughter and even managed to loop you into their silly conversations. However, their eyes avoided you most of the time, and their jokes were careful. You sensed that nobody wanted to have any part in pulling any triggers you might have. Tonight was no time to be sad. With finals coming up, no one needed any sort of emotional baggage. You felt bad for making them cautious, but you were also grateful for their thoughtfulness about your feelings.

The happy atmosphere became short-lived, though, as five minutes later, a sound cut through the alley and through the facades that everyone was putting up for your sake. It made all of them stop in their tracks once more. Even Hyewon stiffened beside you.

The sound perfectly explained everything that was going on with you, and there was no hiding it now.

Your alarm was playing again.

“Oh, fuck.” Hyewon let out a huge breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She looked as though she was trying to block out the sound. “Y/N, for goodness’ sake, don’t be an idiot. Don’t listen to it. Turn it off—”

But of course, like an idiot, you listened.

“Hey there. If you find yourself listening to this, then it means we have made it to Year 3. Please meet me at the same place where we are tonight: the art pier, one hour before the day ends. I'll be the stupid-looking guy standing by the yacht statue while holding too many roses. I love you. Happy Anniversary!"

This alarm shouldn’t be ringing—because you didn’t make it to Year 3.

“Please turn it off.”

Joonyoung, who was right behind you, reached for your bag, rummaged inside, and pulled out your phone. Glaring at the screen, he shut it off and dropped the phone in the bag again.

The alleyway was silent for a while.

Hyewon sighed. And then she leaned against you and said softly, “Let’s go home.”

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley you were still walking on were damp from the rain that had recently poured. Hands would steady you from behind when your thin-strapped sandals would slip and get stuck between the loose cobblestones. No one drunk should walk on this alley with its imperfect pavements, but you had come to love it, just like every other self-respecting college student living around the vicinity. As you passed, the signage of restaurants and thrift stores flashed in bright neon blues and violets before melting into the ever-constant amber colors of the street lights.

This alley was the most beautiful place to go to in this city.

It was a beautiful Saturday night, too, and in your opinion, you had spent it well. But you weren’t supposed to spend this night here. Not in this place, despite its beauty, no.

You were supposed to be somewhere else.

You were supposed to be with someone else.

“I know that everybody here is trying to be nice, but let me say it for all of you here, so you don’t have to wonder how it sounds.” Joonyoung kicked a crumpled beer can out of his way as he walked. “Fuck Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Oh, please, Lee Joonyoung.” Hyewon sounded tired. “Thank you for making Y/N more miserable.”

“What do you mean? Bubs, I’m not the douchebag who—ah, whatever.” Joonyoung shrugged and flung middle fingers up the sky. “Wherever you are, Yoon Jeonghan, fuck you!”

“He’s completely drunk,” Hyewon said apologetically, looking around her; some of the campus seniors with you were friends of Jeonghan’s. “Sorry.” And then, looking at Joonyoung exasperatedly, she hissed, “Joonyoung. Cut it out.”

“Let him be,” you said in a drained voice, “let him be.”

You were supposed to be with Yoon Jeonghan tonight, but you weren’t. He was long gone, and all you have left of him was something that you had somehow forgotten to remove, something you wished so desperately to forget.

All you have left of him was his voice—frozen in time through that alarm.

The rest was memories and history.

🍁🎧🧡

Mingyu sips from a coffee mug and nods in understanding as you finish speaking. He leans back on one of the steps of the townhouse, where you both sit. Cars drive down your neighborhood street, their headlights coloring the concrete road with hazy white and yellow lights. You watch their signals blink as they find spaces to park. Leaves continue to fall, and some end up in your hair. You feel Mingyu brush them away. You smile and do the same for him.

It is way past midnight, and here you both sit, snuggling to keep warm against the cold night air and talking about a love long gone.

“So,” Mingyu traces the rim of his coffee cup as he puts the pieces together, “you and Jeonghan-hyung dated during uni days?”

You nod. “Mm-hmm. We dated for two years. And then we broke up during my junior year, which was when that alley story happened.” You look at your boyfriend in mock suspicion. “Not that I’m complaining, but are you sure you want to listen to this story? Because we don’t need to talk about this if you aren’t comfortable—”

“—No, no, baby, I’m okay!” Mingyu chuckles a little bit as he turns to you. “I’m perfectly fine. I really want to know. If you’re not comfortable talking about it, though, we could just put it behind us.” He smiles at you. “I’m okay either way.”

He had stepped onto a minefield of your past without warning. He’s not supposed to be okay either way. You keep staring at him, not believing what he said.

“But, babe…” You sigh as you look at him. “Instead of talking about how Jeonghan and I ended up dating years ago, why don’t we talk about other things first?” You keep searching his face for any sign of uneasiness, any sign of hurt or confusion. “Like, how you felt when you found out. Or, how to avoid getting ambushed by stuff like this in the future.” You lean against him. “I don’t want something like this to happen again, no matter how great we both are at handling surprises. I think this is a good time to talk about things we haven’t talked about yet. Exes, our most embarrassing moments—” you giggle as Mingyu laughs at your last words. “Hey, I’m serious here!”

Your mind recalls the events of the night. You remember twirling in front of your full-length mirror to admire your new dress. You remember how perfect Mingyu had looked when he stepped out of his car and walked up to you. You remember the car ride, the conversation that you had about meeting his family and kissing underneath the porchlight of Aera’s house. You remember the baby shower: meeting Mingyu’s parents, Kim Aera, and Mingyu’s other friends. You remember how happy and secure you felt with Mingyu beside you as he introduced you to his family and some high-profile friends. You remember the crib and the games.

You remember Choi Seungcheol’s surprised expression and shaking Yoon Jeonghan’s hand for the first time in years. You remember Kwon Soonyoung’s drunken announcement.

“So, the former flames have finally met!”

“Well, I guess I got surprised when I found out that you guys used to date,” Mingyu clarifies, “but if we will talk about whether I had strong, negative feelings about the whole thing...” his voice trails off as he looks at you.

“...Uh-huh?” you prod.

Mingyu shakes his head. “I didn’t have any.” He squeezes your hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to worry about me. To be honest, what surprised me the most was the fact that I handled the situation pretty well. Back when we were still at Aera’s house, I really did my best to be careful with how I took in the whole thing. I took care not to show how surprised I was with my expressions, my words...”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod along with him as his voice trails off. “Yes. I agree. You handled it pretty well. But I am still so sorry for dropping that bomb on you that way.” You look up at him with an apologetic expression. “We haven’t really talked about past relationships that much yet, so...”

“Y/N, please don’t overthink.” His face hovers inches away from yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “See?” He makes all sorts of cute expressions, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m okay.”

You become willing to believe him, but then you catch him looking at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Although,” Mingyu adds, “I did feel a bit self-conscious.” He sighs dramatically, and he pouts—adorably. “I mean, he’s the Yoon Jeonghan. You dated the Yoon Jeonghan that most girls nowadays are swooning over. Who am I compared to that?”

As he continues to make such cute faces while saying the most outrageous things, you stare at him, open-mouthed. “What the hell.” You had seen through his joke, of course, but you could not help but look at him incredulously. “Is my boyfriend actually saying this to me right now while looking so drop-dead gorgeous beside me? Is he really comparing himself right now to someone else?”

Mingyu ignores your words and continues. “Yoon Jeonghan, actor extraordinaire, ranking twentieth at this year’s Asia’s Sexiest 100. Hmm. Yes.” He considers his words and nods. “I did feel intimidated. He’s good-looking and is amazing at acting and—”

“—Whoa, whoa, whoa.” You put your mug down beside you, and you giggle as you take Mingyu’s face in your hands. “You are one gorgeous person, too, and I am so, so in love with you. Stop comparing yourself to him.” You nuzzle his face, smiling. “I know you’re just joking about this, but please. Stop.”

He continues to look at you with a playful pout, but his eyes turn darker voice drops a notch lower. “Make me.”

You feel him grin against your lips as you make him stop speaking.

At the back of your head, you remember Kim Aera’s words when she talked about her husband.

“Not all women are as fortunate as I am, you know? Some of us meet such crappy guys that it’s a miracle I ended up finding someone worth the wedding vows.”

You aren’t one to believe in fortunes, so you try to think about all the things you must have done right to deserve a man such as Kim Mingyu. More importantly, you wonder if you would be able to keep him by your side.

Too much thinking, too much thinking, you chastise yourself as you kiss Mingyu harder, wanting to erase everything from your mind.

“I love you,” you say after a while.

“I love you, too. But where were we with your story?” Mingyu lets go of you and takes his mug once more. Leaves still fall from the trees. The streetlights glow brighter as midnight darkens. A green sedan stops directly across you both, and you watch as a man staggers out of the driver’s side.

“Well, if you really want to hear all about it, it would take us all night.” You look up at him with an enticing, hopeful smile. “Do you want to stay the night here? Hyewon and Joonyoung would be thrilled to have you. We can do storytime together with them.” You shake your head. “I still haven’t said a word to them about meeting Jeonghan again because we only went upstairs to get coffee. Hyewon will get a kick out of this.”

Mingyu laughs softly. “I can imagine.” He kisses your forehead before taking your hand. “Let’s head back inside.”

No more cars drive down your neighborhood street. No more hazy yellow and white headlights color the dark concrete road. Mingyu takes your hand and pulls you up from the steps. You feel him brush away some leaves from your hair once more. You look up at him appreciatively, and you do the same for him. Across the street, a glaring woman opens the front door for the drunken man from the green sedan.

You retreat indoors for the night. You think about how to tell Mingyu everything. And when Hyewon opens the door to greet you both, you wonder if she and Joonyoung would help you get the facts right about how you and Jeonghan started and how you and Jeonghan eventually ended.

With all these thoughts in your head, you faintly hear your phone ring in your purse. Getting a sense of déjà vu from the story that you had told Mingyu earlier, you feel chills run up and down your spine as you pull your phone out.

“Who’s your midnight caller, girlfriend?” Hyewon goodnaturedly teases as she takes your empty mug from your hand. Her face looks flushed, and you remember that she and Joonyoung had been drinking when you left them earlier. “Joonyoung! Mingyu’s here!”

“I have a confession to make,” you say as you look at the caller ID. “Mingyu and I ran into Jeonghan and Seungcheol at his cousin’s baby shower.”

Hyewon’s face pales at your words. “You what?”

“We did,” Mingyu says softly, scratching his head while smiling at Hyewon. “He’s a good hyung of mine and Aera’s in the industry. We’ve been friends for a long time, but I didn’t know that he and Y/N used to date.”

“Huh,” Hyewon breathes out. “All these years, the only way we could see him was on TV. We never ran across him, ever. And now we find out that he’s good friends with your boyfriend’s family.” Hyewon raises her eyebrows and shakes her head. “Imagine that.”

“You met Jeonghan?” Joonyoung bounds into the foyer, which suddenly becomes crowded with the four of you there. “Was he with anyone else?”

“Just him and Seungcheol-hyung,” Mingyu answers.

“Let’s not talk about this here. Come on in, you two. We still have some pizza, chicken, and beer.” Hyewon manages to push the two guys into the living room. She turns to you, clearly wanting to talk to you in private, but you put up a hand.

“Hold on.” Your phone is vibrating in your hand, and you hastily answer the call. “Hello?”

🍁🎧🧡

He leans on the railings of the rooftop bar, a drink in one hand and a phone in the other. As he gazes at the city below, he knows that he has had too much to drink. The lights have started to pulse too much. The numbness inside him has finally reached his fingertips. He considers stopping to drink this last glass, but his call finally goes through.

At the sound of the voice on the other line, he decides that he needs this one last shot of bourbon.

“I know that it’s too late to call you now,” he whispers almost inaudibly, “but if I don’t say this tonight, I probably never will.”

He lets go of the empty glass in his hand, and he watches as it shatters on the ground.

“I miss you,” he says, oblivious of the curses and complaints from the people around him. “And I know that you’re in a happy place now, but I—” A painful pause ensues as he stands there, lost for words. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, he tries to ignore the ache in his throat and the burning in his eyes. “—I just wanted you to know that. Everything about this call feels wrong because I know that I am not supposed to and that I have no right to call you anymore, but I will never stop wondering how these words sound like if I don’t say it right now.” A tortured grin spreads across his lips. “I miss you.”

The phone falls out of his hands, and he blindly falls to the ground to pick it up. Sharp fragments from the broken glass cut through his skin and the material of his pants, but he doesn’t feel the pain. He is too numb right now. He couldn’t even feel his legs. As he futilely tries to smoothen the cracked screen on his phone, he hears a loud voice coming from a megaphone.

“And cut!” The director’s voice rings loud and clear throughout the rooftop bar. He walks over to Jeonghan, who is still trying to bring his phone back to life. “Okay, did I suddenly step into some shitty romance movie after the break? What was all that?” The director impatiently turns around and gestures to the crew behind him. “I need a medical kit here; and another phone, please. Geez. What has gotten into you tonight?”

“Sorry,” Jeonghan says apologetically. “I just got too immersed with my role.” He shakily stands up. “And I can’t feel my legs.”

The director shakes his head. “Look, Jeonghan, I know that you love ad-libs. I love your ad-libs, too. You know that. But your last lines threw me off.” He squints his eyes suspiciously at Jeonghan. “Where did you go tonight? You were fine the whole day, and then you suddenly get picked up by your friend. The minute you come back to work, you’re a different person.” He shakes his head again and walks away. “Read the script and pull yourself together. We’ll be taking a short break. And apologize to your co-star for spouting out all that mushy stuff!”

“What was that about?” Seungcheol has appeared from out of nowhere, arms crossed. “Why were you telling Jihoon that you missed him?”

Jeonghan laughs. He gestures weakly with his hand as he answers, “It’s the bourbon.”

“Who on earth actually drinks half a dozen shots while filming?” Seungcheol pauses as he studies Jeonghan’s face. “And why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” Jeonghan wipes away something wet from his face. “Stop bitching, Cheol, and just help me sit down somewhere.”

“Oh, Yoon Jeonghan.” Seungcheol sighs as guides Jeonghan to the nearest steel chair. “You said you would be able to come back to work after the baby shower! God, I was an idiot for believing you.”

“This is not about the baby shower,” Jeonghan protests weakly as he leans back against the chair. “Leave me alone and let me rest. Please.” He closes his eyes.

“So," Seungcheol fishes around for words, "what was that about?"

Jeonghan doesn’t answer.

Seungcheol sighs again. “Was she the one you were ‘talking to’ in that phone call?”

Silence.

“Jeonghan—”

“—She looked happy.” Jeonghan’s voice is calm, but tears still escape his closed eyes. He leans to the side as though he wanted to sleep. “They looked happy. And when I saw them kiss by the front porch when we got to Aera’s, I felt funny." He grins. "I felt funny because a part of me got hurt—” He pounds his chest. “—Right here.” His grin widens. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just like this because I haven't seen her for a long time."

The rooftop bar is buzzing with activity: the director is making changes with the camera angles, someone is adjusting the brightness of the floodlights, and the extras are practicing the not-so-easy art of blending in with the scene. Jeonghan hears someone sweep the broken glass from the tiled floor.

“Mingyu is a good guy,” Seungcheol offers sympathetically. “At least we can both be sure that she will be alright.”

“Mm-hmm.” Jeonghan continues pounding his chest with his bandaged hand. “I know.”

“You are my first romance, and I’m willing to take a chance that till life is through, I’d still be loving you.”

🍁🎧🧡

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley that he is walking on are still the same. It feels damp, even though no rain had poured that night. It is still chipped and uneven in some places, and he remembers how your thin-strapped sandals would sometimes slip and get stuck between the cobblestones. Despite the imperfections of this street, he knows that you loved it. But while you had loved this place for its bright lights and broken cobblestones, he had loved it for what it contained: the restaurants and thrift stores, all of which still had signs that flash in bright neon blues and violets.

And he loved them because of the memories he had created inside them—memories that he had made with you.

He vividly remembers the first plate of spaghetti that you shared at Georgie’s, a quaint restaurant that would have been considered Italian but for the sweet spaghetti sauce that it serves. He has not forgotten the taste because he still goes there on Thursdays. And he has never forgotten the way you had laughed while eating spaghetti as he confessed that he wanted to date you.

“You have no idea how ridiculous that sounds coming out of your mouth,” you had said while pushing away your plate. Your eyes had been gleaming with humor then, but your voice had been guarded and careful. “To put it simply, sunbae, I am not going to date you.” You had shrugged, and locks of your hair had tumbled across that denim jacket that he had loved seeing on you. “You know why.”

He had known then.

You had never fallen in love before. That knowledge should have made him cautious, but he admits to himself now that it had made him all the more desperate to snag that spot in your heart marked, “First Love.”

It was at Georgie’s that you had first rejected him, but it was there that you also said yes to him a few months later. Twirling pasta in your plate, you had murmured, “Okay. Let’s date. But Yoon Jeonghan—” Your voice had shaken. And then you had looked at him.

“Please be careful with my heart.”

He had answered that with your first kiss.

At signless thrift stores that are scattered a few stalls away from each other, Jeonghan remembers patiently waiting for you as you picked clothes for him and art supplies for yourself. He remembers how you would stand to the side to let Hyewon and Mirae haggle with the storekeeper. He remembers your apologetic expression when you felt like Hyewon or Mirae had taken the bargaining too far. He smiles as he remembers how embarrassed you would be during those times.

And then he smiles wider as he remembers Hyewon’s sharp fingernails that had dug on his shoulder when she pulled him aside during the first time he tagged along for the shopping. He chuckles as he remembers how menacing she had looked.

“If dating my goody-two-shoes Y/N is payback because I broke your best friend’s heart a few years ago,” Hyewon warns darkly, “then you’d better know that I’ll be coming for you. And I have no qualms whatsoever about tearing you to shreds. You got that?” She had dug her nails deeper at that point.

“I don’t care what history you had with my best friend,” he had answered calmly. “I am dating Y/N because I love her. That’s all there is. You’re reading way too much into this, Park Hyewon.”

“Am I?” Hyewon had scoffed, clearly unconvinced. “Yoon Jeonghan, why are you dating Y/N? The real reason, please."

"I love her," he repeated. "That's all."

"No. That's not it. I refuse to believe that’s your reason. And we both know here that you can’t fool me with that crap.” She had let go of him then, but not before throwing out a few more words that sounded like a prophecy. Throwing up her hands in the air and rolling her eyes, she had said, “I’m calling it: you’ll only break Y/N's heart.”

Funny how Hyewon turned out to be right.

“This alley is the most beautiful place to go to in the city, isn’t it?”

At that moment, Jeonghan stops in his tracks. He stops reminiscing.

He whirls around, his eyes wide and almost sober, searching for the owner of that voice. His heartbeats quicken. He clenches his jaw as another knife of pain stabs through him at those words.

You used to say the same thing to him. You used to say those words while holding his hand or whenever he would kiss you unannounced while you walked this street. You used to say those words while looking up at him. He would never get lost anywhere in the world, but he used to get lost in your eyes when you did so.

He squints his eyes, certain that it had been you who had spoken. But as his vision focuses on the owner of the voice, he feels his heart sink inside him.

Of course, it wasn’t you. Jeonghan laughs at himself and his stupidity.

It wasn’t you. It was some stupid co-ed echoing the words that any college student would say about this street. It wasn’t you because you were long gone from him now, and he had nothing left of you but all these memories that still plague him in this fucking alleyway.

It wasn’t you because Jeonghan had done what Hyewon had said that he would do.

A hand grabs his arm. “Let’s go, Yoon Jeonghan. You shouldn’t be here.”

Jeonghan recognizes Seungcheol’s voice. He grins at his friend’s frustrated face as he trips on a stupid loose cobblestone. “Hello, there. Why do you keep appearing out of nowhere? And did you also think of Hyewon while following me along this legendary street? You only loved this street because of Hyewon, but you still feel it, right?” Jeonghan helps himself up and absently studies his dirtied pants. “The nostalgia this place evokes?”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol snaps, “just shut up. You know, I expected you to act more maturely than this, Jeonghan.”

“What?” Jeonghan laughs. “Can’t a guy walk in peace?”

Seungcheol stops walking. He lets go of Jeonghan’s arm, and he faces Jeonghan with a furious expression. “You have no right to get hung up over Y/N,” he says with a poisonous tone. “You have no right at all.”

Seungcheol’s words slice through Jeonghan like a blade he didn’t see coming. He wasn't able to brace for it. He didn’t expect those words to come, especially from Seungcheol.

“You broke her heart.” Seungcheol’s tone is more fit for a eulogy than for a conversation with his best friend. “You made a choice years ago. What did you expect the ending to be? You can’t cry now.” His face softens. “Be a man. Accept that she’s moved on. Did you see her face earlier at the baby shower? She didn’t even look at you with any hurt or anger.” He presses a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder. “She looks happy. Was she surprised to have seen you? Yes. But she has clearly moved on, and so should you.”

There is silence for a while until Seungcheol hands him a face mask.

"Spare yourself the hell you'd experience from gossip rags and wear the fucking mask. You look terrible and stupid, coming here without any disguise at all. These aren’t uni days anymore, dumbass."

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley that Jeonghan and Seungcheol are walking on are still the same. It feels damp, even though no rain had poured that night. It is chipped and uneven in some places, and both men could still remember how easily one could trip and fall on the slippery cobblestones. But despite the imperfections of this street, they both know someone who had loved it for what it was.

Yes, you had loved this alleyway for its bright lights and broken cobblestones. Seungcheol had loved it because of your friend Hyewon, but Jeonghan had loved it for what it contained: the restaurants and thrift stores, all of which still had signs that flash in bright neon blues and violets.

And he loved them because of the memories he had created inside them—memories that he had made with you.

But now he realizes that this alleyway is a literal Memory Lane, bringing him back to the past and clouding his judgment of the present.

As he walks past Georgie’s, He remembers your words again.

“Please be careful with my heart.”

Friday has barely ended, and Saturday is just about to begin, but when Georgie’s fades behind him, he laughs. He laughs like the idiot that he is, and tears pour out of his eyes as he does so.

“I will be true to you—just a promise from you will do: from the very start, please be careful with my heart.”

🍁🎧🧡

The truth has finally hit him.

Everything that he had with you—all of it—is now just memories and history.

And his conviction that he should stop riding this rollercoaster of emotions about you becomes even more pronounced when his phone vibrates, and he picks up a call.

“Where are you?” a woman’s voice asks, worried. “I’ve been up all night waiting at your apartment.”

Seungcheol mouths, Who is it?

Jeonghan flashes the phone at Seungcheol.

It was Jung Mirae.

“I love you and you know I do—there’ll be no one else for me. I promise I’ll be always true, for the world and all to see. Love has heard some lies softly spoken, and I have had my heart badly broken; I’ve been burned and I’ve been hurt before.”

🍁🎧🧡

Mingyu stops staring at the ceiling and turns to look at you. You are sleeping beside him, tucked under his arm, and he is happy. He had spent the night with you, going through your memories and learning from them. He had spent the whole night immersed in the past that you had inside you.

Yes, indeed, he had learned a lot about you tonight. And as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, he whispers something that you did not hear. He whispers words that he just wants to prove to you with actions.

“I’ll be careful with your heart,” Mingyu whispers as he kisses your hair, your neck, your bare shoulder, “because I know how it feels to get hurt, too.” If you had been awake at that point, you would have seen the pensive, faraway look in his eyes as he walks down his own cobblestoned path—his own Memory Lane. If you had been awake, you would have worried about his expression like he knows you would. So he quickly smiles at your peaceful, sleeping face.

“I have a story, too,” he adds softly, “but I’ll save it for later.” He hugs you close to him. “For now, I’ll just be content with taking care of you.” He kisses your lips, and you stir. “Of us.”

When your eyes open, he shyly ducks under the covers, his twinkling eyes peeking at you. And as you protest that it was late and that he should sleep, he laughs softly, and he nods. “Okay, okay. I’ll take care of you.”

“What?” you ask, uncomprehending. “Say again, baby?”

“Nothing.” He hugs you close again. “Just that I love you.”

You fall back into sleep at his words, and he keeps watching you until his eyes close on their own.

“I love you,” he whispers again.

“So I know just how you feel: trust that my love is real for you. I’ll be gentle with your heart—I’ll caress it like the morning dew. I’ll be right beside you forever, I won’t let our world fall apart. From the very start, I’ll be careful with your heart.”

Author’s Note: Thank you very much for reading! I know that I have been very slow and inconsistent with my updates, but as long as there are unfinished WIPs on this list, please expect me to keep posting, no matter how sporadic. Tell me what you think about this part on the askbox, comments/reblogs! Thank you! - Leanne.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #svtcreations #seventeen angst #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan angst #jeonghan #jeonghan angst #svt scenarios #svt angst

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restapesta · 3 years

Note

Hi Emina🥰

Mandy finds out about Ian and Mickey earlier than in canon, she’s upset but she doesn’t confront either of them at first. She observes them together when all three of them hang out, and she realises it’s not just some casual thing - it’s serious.

For the prompt ask❤️

Hello Drish! Thank you for the ask -- I loved writing this :)

tw for very mild and short mentions of sexual abuse; other than that, everything is mostly just some light angst. enjoy!

word count: 4.6k

The Choices We Made And The Ones We Could Have Instead by gallavich-x

Looking back at it, Mandy was surprised she had missed it. She also thought that she had to have, most certainly, been the dumbest person alive — dumber than Iggy, even — to miss something that had been so blatantly staring straight at her.

She was surprised she had missed Ian's soft and clearly loving looks — the ones that had never been truly directed at her, although she somewhat hoped they were, still harboring some weird form of a crush on the redheaded boy she had grown to call her best friend; but also aware they simply couldn't have been for anybody else — and yet were always casually thrown somewhere over her shoulder, where, she only now was certain, Mickey probably stood, perhaps gazing softly back.

She was surprised she had confused Mickey's relaxed stance whenever he was in Ian's vicinity to the siblings perhaps getting closer, Mickey finally switching his ice-cold demeanor in place of a slightly more open one. Mandy never would have guessed it wasn't her that made him shed his hard shield, but rather Ian, the one boy who had made her shed her own.

She was so surprised she had missed how Mickey hung around more when Ian was around; how Ian planted himself next to Mickey each time the three of them sat down on the too-small, dirty Milkovich couch to watch a movie together — where each time Mandy wondered why Mickey was there in the first place; why he wasn't making fun of them for watching a kid's movie like Finding Nemo but rather sat down, tightly pressed against Ian, obnoxiously watching it with them. How she so easily wrote off them working together so suddenly, the whole ordeal having to do with Ian liking Mickey enough to put in a good word for him with Linda — liking him enough to not mind working with him. It had been so obvious this entire time, and yet Mandy never seemed to catch on.

Mandy considered it stupid how it didn't take Ian and Mickey's weird proximity to each other for her to finally figure it out but rather a simple accident in which it was so blatantly obvious that her brain couldn't ignore the signs anymore — her best friend and her brother. Together.

Maybe she could blame the ignorance on her unhealthy obsession with Lip and Lip's unhealthy obsession with Karen; perhaps she could blame it on the Milkovich genes for not connecting the dots sooner — it didn't really matter. What mattered was that her brain took its sweet time figuring it out and only managed to finally fucking understand once the whole thing was simply impossible to ignore.

She didn't plan on seeing them in the kitchen that day — it had been an accident; an impulse in which Mandy had picked herself up from the couch to ask Ian something about Lip — just another stupid thing she couldn't help but want to find out about the boy she was falling in love with — and ended up finding out something about the boy she thought she knew everything about. Ian had been gone for only a few moments, declaring how he was going to make them popcorn — the popcorn he stole for them from the store, pretending as if it wasn't that big of a deal; like it wasn't a gesture that had Mandy's heart swell uncontrollably as she gazed at her soft ginger.

Ian was a man like no other — sweet, kind, respectful, good-looking. He was basically perfect when it came to Southside boys, the ones who were born and raised here; he was perfect for Mandy. Years ago, she had tried to lure him in with her short skirts and booby shirts, but that was the first time she found out Ian was nothing like the other boys she knew and had done the same thing with. Ian was something else altogether, a piece of the world Mandy had not yet uncovered — a piece of the world that treated her, for the first time, in a way that felt right.

Mandy was jealous of the guy that had Ian's heart — the one Ian whined and bitched about every other week; the one he talked about with the sweetest of looks on his face every single goddamn day as if the other boy hung the moon and the stars for him. She was jealous another person that wasn't Mandy got Ian Gallagher. She was also certain that in another world — a world where Ian liked girls instead of boys and was able to see Mandy as something more — she would be his perfect match. A Gallagher and a Milkovich; so unexpected, yet so fitting.

Maybe that's why she fell in love with Lip; maybe it was some sort of mind fuck that had her settle for the closest thing there was to Ian, that being his fucking smart-as-a-whip but dumb-as-a-pole brother — or maybe she was just right about Gallaghers and Milkoviches mixing. They went well somehow, like night and day; so different, yet incomplete without each other.

She should have guessed it. If Mandy and Ian were a match in some other alternate universe — a Milkovich and Gallagher pairing done fucking right, unlike she and Lip, and she and Ian — perhaps there was another weird, unbelievable pairing in this one, just that nobody had looked deep enough to find it.

She had neared the kitchen, the question about Lip still in her mind. The kitchen door stood slightly ajar and Mandy halted her steps at the sound of the voices inside — quiet, soft, almost unrecognizable voices. One belonged to Ian, the other to Mickey.

And yet, Mickey's was so unbelievably different from the one she was so used to hearing —instead of being rough and scary, making Mickey seem as crude and as unapproachable as he truly was — it was steady, calm, and... Flirty?

Mandy listened through the small gap, not quite able to see them through the slim opening. What she did see was scarce, simply Ian and Mickey standing close to each other — way too intimate for just two people working together at the same store, and simply way too close for friends; not that Ian and Mickey were that. Friends.

If she didn't have ears to listen in to the conversation, she would have written the positions of their bodies as threatening and challenging rather than comfortable and knowing.

Mickey's voice, at the moment, was too quiet for Mandy's liking. She could barely catch on to a thing he was saying, the sentences coming out of his mouth sounding more like mumbles than actual words — but as his hand reached up to fix the collar of Ian's cardigan, moving in even closer towards Ian's bare skin, fingertips tracing his collarbone lightly, and as Ian's breath visibly hitched so that even Mandy could notice his shortage of breath — she knew.

Their eyes never left each other's faces. Their lips didn't connect into a kiss — something Mandy was grateful for, shocked enough and definitely not ready to add that to the list of things she thought she'd never see, placing it right up next to the unicorn she dreamed about having as a kid — but they seemed unnervingly close to it. Too close even, nearing each other like magnets. They only jumped apart when the microwave beeped, signaling enough popcorn kettles being popped to stop exposing them to the heat. Mandy watched as Mickey pulled away even further from Ian as if snapping somewhat out of a daze.

"See you tonight, Firecrotch." He smirked as he headed towards the door. Mandy jumped back from the door, comically throwing herself towards the couch, hoping — no, begging — Mickey didn't figure out she'd seen the entire exchange. When he only passed her with an "assface" in greeting, she knew he had no clue.

And when Ian came back a moment later, a bowl of popcorn nestled in his arms, a blush warming his cheeks, breath ragged, Mandy realized she had seen him this flustered one time too many — and although she usually wrote it off as Ian simply being Ian, awkward and clumsy, cute and all over the place — now she knew.

It had never been the heat of the summer making him warm, sweaty, and dizzy all over.

It had always been Mickey.

When her brother joined them a little while later, plopping himself down next to Ian, even though the seat next to Mandy was closer and much spacier, she finally managed to grasp onto the clues her brother had been unwillingly leaving — everything, from the lack of girlfriends to Ian. It didn't make her feel any less stupid, but it sure as hell made a lot more sense.

Her brother was gay.

She was surprised and slightly disbelieving. How could her brother Mickey, one of the scariest members of the Milkovich family, Terry's favorite son, be gay?

They all had secrets, she guessed, some larger and more terrifying than others.

The light bulb had finally lit up above her head. Mandy knew she was pale as a ghost as she thought it all through, making connections, filling in the blanks, finally making sense of the past three years.

Mickey was Ian's mystery man — the guy he was desperately in love with.

She glanced towards Ian who was subtly — she wouldn't have caught it if she wasn't looking for it — smiling at Mickey, their forearms lightly touching, thighs firmly pressed together on the worn-out couch. She then stole a glance towards Mickey who seemed to be trying to hide a small smile in his beer bottle.

Mandy suddenly felt scared, the realization hitting her with full-blown force. She finally realized what it all meant.

Firstly, Ian was in love with Mickey.

Mickey would break his heart. He, like all of the other Milkoviches, Mandy included, simply wasn't made to love or be loved. Not healthily at least. Not the way you were supposed to.

Secondly, Mickey was gay.

If Terry ever found out, it would be Mandy's, not just Ian's, heart breaking.

The day Terry found out about Mickey would be the day she lost her brother.

You could never say Mandy Milkovich was a particularly observant person, but lately, she was nothing but, practically spending every single moment she spent with Ian and Mickey, whether it be together or apart, studying and analyzing them, trying to uncover more about the secret they shared. She reminded herself of those bird or cloud watchers — the ones that spent hours on end trying to spot different species or shapes, studying them silently and calmly, always being patient, simply waiting for the perfect moment to capture them.

Mandy hated feeling like one of those boring-ass people — it was contradicting towards her personality. She was more likely to be the person who would shoot the endangered bird rather than simply gaze at it. She didn't know if it made her a monster or simply a proud Milkovich.

Mandy was somewhat scared of the answer.

The gazing wasn't directed towards birds or clouds, though — it was Ian and Mickey who were the center of her interest.

They were simply hooking up, she knew — Ian had told her that enough himself.

She was now connecting Mickey to all of the events Ian had told her about his 'secret boyfriend'; Ian never called him that, but she had come up with the nickname after a particularly excruciatingly long story about how the guy had been jealous of the old pedophile— another one of Mandy's nicknames — Ian had been seeing, and how sweet Ian found it.

It was Mickey who had told Ian, only a few months ago, that he was nothing but a warm mouth to him; an event Ian talked about with moisture in his eyes, claiming how, from then on, he'd stay away. It was Mickey who Ian thought hated him and had asked advice about. It was Mickey who Ian spent most of the day daydreaming about, probably doodling his name in his diary or whatever shit Mandy had relentlessly teased him about.

Now, she tried to picture the other stuff Ian told her — she tried to picture the two of them hanging out and having fun, simply enjoying each other's company — Mandy stopped short. She couldn't imagine it. Sure, she'd seen them hang out when they were with her, but the thought of them alone made her squirm in her seat — there was no way they even had anything to talk about. Mickey didn't just chit-chat and he'd probably tell Ian to shut the fuck up the moment Ian opened his mouth to tell another one of those weird Gallagher stories. She just couldn't imagine Mickey simply being friends with someone — hell, she couldn't even imagine him liking Ian enough to even talk to him. It was a fucked up thing to say but everything she knew about Mickey told her so.

Ian didn't seem gay — you probably wouldn't figure it out until he out-right told you or made out with a guy in front of your eyes; but if you knew him, you'd know he was also sensitive and soft in a weird human way, not just in the stereotypical homosexual way. He was different in a good way, understanding things Lip, for example, or any other guy, simply wouldn't be able to.

Ian was just genuinely different. He was a different type of man from the other Southside douchebags — he was different from his own brother who he always compared himself to.

But she couldn't see that sort of personality working well with Mickey, who was mostly just the exact opposite.

Ian was simply just Ian, and Mickey was akin to an antonym.

And she could definitely see Ian falling in love with Mickey, trying hard to figure him out, crack open his hard, rough, and calloused shell and look deep into his soul, searching for his hidden, golden heart.

But Mandy knew Mickey (at least she thought she did but the gay thing made her genuinely wonder how much she knew after all), and she knew her brother wasn't the 'baddest', meanest asshole on this side of the Chicago river, but he most certainly wasn't far from it. He was crude, brash, rude, and violent, all of the greatest qualities a Milkovich could possess — he was Terry's pride and joy, his prodigy son who'd definitely go places. In Terry's mind going places meant either running drug ops or serving time in federal prison for murder — in Mandy's mind, Mickey's too probably, that was nothing but a wasted life. But Mickey had never trailed off of the path Terry had drawn for him. He never stopped following in his footsteps.

Mandy knew he couldn't, not really. Just like she couldn't stop Terry when he walked into her room drunk some nights, doing something to her she tried to pretend wasn't a big deal, that it didn't matter — but she could hope that her brother, the one closest to her age, the one she liked the most, the one she looked up to more than she wished to, would be the one who made it out of this hell hole. Would make it out and go somewhere new, somewhere where he could learn to love a man beyond just fucking, learn to treat him better than he was treating Ian — better than Mandy knew he was treating him.

She knew Ian's heart was fragile, torn apart by so many awful, creepy men who wanted him for nothing more but his body. He didn't need that from Mickey too — Mickey who had already said it once; Mickey who would not hesitate to beat the redheaded boy up for even mentioning the word gay in his presence, in context to Mickey or not.

Ian deserved better.

Mickey did too.

Mandy glanced through the Kash 'n Grab window, making sure to stay inconspicuous and subtle as she observed what was happening inside the store. She had come here for a reason — she needed to see it again, confirm it with her own eyes; confirm that her eyes hadn't deceived her that day in the kitchen; that Ian and Mickey have truly been 'together' all this time.

She also needed to find the strength to confront them, simply stop pussying out each time she thought about opening her mouth to tell Ian she knew, to tell Mickey his secret was safe with her — whenever she tried to confront Ian and warn him about Mickey, the man she knew he was, and whenever she tried to confront Mickey and warn him about Ian, and what type of man she knew his heart couldn't handle, that type being Mickey — she just couldn't.

Through the dirty windowpane, Mandy saw Mickey sitting on a stool, flipping through the pages of a magazine — she guessed it had something to do with guns or naked chicks, considering how most of Mickey's reading material usually did. His gaze was turned downwards, his security vest wrinkled against his oddly clean shirt — he had been taking showers lately. Mandy wondered if it was because of Ian who was behind the cash register. Mandy wondered how they still hadn't noticed her — it wasn't as if the posters hung on the window next to the store's entrance were much use for a good hiding spot. Nevertheless, she was thankful for the coverage — at least it wasn't obvious she was stalking.

Still, Ian's eyes weren't focused on a magazine or a textbook or even her spying through the glass — those beautiful green orbs were focused solely on Mickey, inspecting his face and body, not even in a sexual way; it was simply just Ian memorizing every single line of Mickey's bruised-up, scowl-etched face. He was gazing softly at him, a look she had seen one too many times on Ian, whether it was when he was describing an amazing night he had spent with his mystery man to Mandy, or simply describing how much progress the two of them were making — how real it was becoming. How sweet his lover was.

Mandy knew Mickey was anything but sweet.

She guessed love made people think and do crazy things. Things a sane person with a clear mind wouldn't even think of doing. She blamed it all on the weird hormones the body produced when you were supposedly in love — they made the brain fuzzy, filling it to the brim with just thoughts about him and him and him.

That's what she felt like with Lip. That's what she didn't want to feel with Lip because it was what he felt with Karen.

Love was an interesting thing.

It was obviously very much incompetently blind.

Mandy was snapped out of her daze when Mickey's eyes caught Ian's from across the store.

Mandy held her breath, expecting Mickey to snap, to yell at Ian like she imagined he had so many times before this one. She was waiting to see, up close in person, how Mickey would manage to shatter another piece of Ian's heart, all until there was nothing more to break. When she saw his lips move inaudibly, she focused her gaze on Ian's face, instead, not wanting to see the angry expression, sometimes so akin to Terry's. But Ian's face didn't fall; it didn't turn his soft gaze and even softer smile into an expression so hurt it was painful to look at it — instead, he lit up.

But it was when Mickey smiled back that she realized how stupid she really was. Iggy had nothing on her, really — she was as dumb as they could get.

Mickey's smile was not just a smile -- it was a full-blown grin, wider than she'd ever seen on his young, yet unbelievably grumpy face, stretching impossibly on his face, white, slightly crooked teeth glinting in the summer glow. It was absolutely beautiful. Mandy had never, in her entire life — perhaps not since they were little kids, still not aware of the big bad world — seen him smile so brightly, his face lighting up more than Ian's. That was when Mandy remembered the small smiles Mickey had been sporting this entire time, when he was deep in thought at the kitchen table, thinking nobody was looking; or when he was texting somebody with his newest burner phone, covering genuine laughs by pouring beer down his throat, then smiling some more.

Mickey didn't stop smiling; not as he nodded towards the door, eyes still locked on Ian's, making Mandy's eyes widen; not when Ian was jumping out of his seat to, Mandy presumed, lock the door so they wouldn't be interrupted; not when Mandy, while fleeing away from the window so she wouldn't be caught, saw out of the corner of her eye, Ian pushing Mickey deeper into the store, their lips pressed carelessly against each other.

The smile ingrained itself into Mandy's brain, and she knew it would become a memory she wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.

Her entire perception of what Ian and Mickey supposedly were suddenly shifted. She could see it now — she could finally imagine the stories Ian had told her, she could imagine the two of them just kind of working together, opposing personalities and all — she finally thought she actually managed to figure it out.

Maybe it wasn't just Ian being in love with Mickey.

Maybe it was Mickey being in love with Ian too.

When Mandy tried to ask Lip about Ian and his mystery boyfriend, trying to determine if he knew who it was, she wasn't surprised when he didn't tell her, when he didn't even try to make decent, languid conversation with her, his fucking girlfriend.

"It's kind of, um, brother stuff, you know? I can't just tell you." He said absentmindedly as he ran his fingers through the pages a book he had stolen from a nearby bookstore — something random and unimportant that he read instead of college applications — and she hoped, for a few moments, that he would tell her something more. That Lip would trust her enough to let her in on some small part of the secret — would tell her whether he knew who the guy even was.

He didn't.

Mandy wondered if Ian told Mickey more; if he let Mickey in on all of his family's biggest secrets. She wondered if they talked about Lip and Mandy and what a shitshow they were; if they laughed at them — at Mandy — for trying so hard when Lip didn't even care.

Mandy didn't know the answer, but she knew that the answer didn't even matter — Lip had never smiled at her the way Mickey smiled at Ian.

That was all she really needed to know.

The rest of the summer was a blur of messy pregnancies, even messier breakups, and crazy weddings — Mandy didn't even know how shit had hit the fan so soon.

When Ian came to say goodbye, Mandy tried to stop him; she tried to tell him about the smile she saw, about the Gallagher-Milkovich theory she had — how she believed that, although he and Mandy would have been soulmates in some faraway universe, he was Mickey's soulmate in this one, wedding and unborn baby be damned.

She said nothing, though.

She pretended not to have known all along.

Mandy had thought, before she knew some part of the truth, that Mickey was the type of man who would never cry. That he was like Terry that way — hard as a rock, emotionless.

She had seen his smile. The smile that helped her understand — helped her realize the sad truth.

The sad truth that Mickey was in love, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. That she had never seen him smile as bright as he did that day. That he had never seemed more relaxed than he did that one afternoon in the kitchen, running his fingers over Ian's body so gently, staking his claim with softly whispered words. That she had seen Ian gaze softly back at him. Laugh with him. That she had witnessed, unaware, Ian cracking open Mickey's hard exterior, pushing his walls down so hard that they probably wouldn't come back up no matter how hard Mickey pushed.

She had been so consumed with Lip and Karen, with her own love — unrequited as it was — that she missed the one that mattered; the one that she could have helped flourish if she had tried, instead of putting all her efforts into Lip who didn't even care. Perhaps she could have stopped Mickey from sleeping with that whore and knocking her up; perhaps she could have told him what she wanted to tell Ian weeks later; perhaps she could have stopped the wedding.

But she didn't.

As Ian stepped outside and hugged Mandy goodbye, apologizing for not telling her sooner and having her find out the way she did, promising her that if he could he would have told her from the start, she understood that they had all made choices they now wished they hadn't.

What was life if not a series of choices, whether they be as simple as choosing breakfast, or as complicated as telling someone the truth? And you could choose every single one of the choices presented to you — if you thought you couldn't, you'd just taken the easy way out. She wondered what would have happened if they had the balls to choose the things that mattered to them, and stopped caring about what the world forced them to believe was right and wrong. All she did was wonder.

They could have all done different things. What they couldn't do is change it now.

She told Mickey he was a pussy. It was like looking in a mirror.

She pretended not to hear him cry that night, as she held back her own tears, afraid, so afraid, that she had lost somebody so close to her, somebody who understood, somebody who cared — Ian wasn't coming back, was he? Ian was long gone, on a bus to base camp, ready to get shipped off to some unknown place where he'd probably die within a second of stepping on the battlefield.

He could've chosen to stay and fight on this one.

He didn't.

Milkoviches and Gallaghers mixed, somehow attracted to each other like magnets — but perhaps they simply mixed with Ian Gallagher the best. Maybe Milkoviches and Gallaghers were just all doomed to fail. Mandy didn't cry over Lip, although she knew she would eventually.

But she cried over her best friend.

Mandy knew Mickey was doing the same.

All this time, Mandy was sure Mickey would break Ian Gallagher's heart.

She just didn't know Ian would end up breaking Mickey's too.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian and mickey #mandy milkovich #Lip Gallagher #mandy and lip #outsider pov #fan fic #gallavich fan fic #based on a prompt #based on an ask #answered #Shameless US #shameless fic #gallavich questions

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anondudeao3 · 3 years

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Fic Recs!

Since I'm on hiatus, I've finally had time to do some reading, and I thought I'd give some fic recommendations, since I won't be posting for quite a while. These are my absolute favourites!

(I'm splitting this into two posts — one for JayDick and one for JayTim — because now that I'm finished with the first half it's quite long)

JayDick

A Love Triangle With The Same Person

By: Chrystie, kate882

Word Count: 10,031

Summary: Dick might have a bit of a thing for Jason, one of Red Hood's criminal underlings. But he's also already a little in love with Red Hood.

→ Identity porn! Who doesn't love identity porn? Very cute and sweet.

Everything I Know

By: epistemology

Word Count: 12,360

Summary: Red Hood is a little bit in love with his partner, Nightwing, who has a huge crush on Jason Todd, the hot bookstore owner, who is actually the Red Hood, who is too busy being in love to notice Dick Grayson, who's actually Nightwing.

Jason and Dick fall in love with the wrong versions of each other, and things become complicated fast.

→ More identity porn, but this one is a lot more sort of missed connections, plus it has bookshop owner Jay who was never taken in by Bruce! It really has you begging SOMETHING to happen to somehow make them see that THEY ARE EACH OTHER, THEY ARE THE ONES THEY LIKE. AHHHH IT'S THE SAME PERSON. And when it finally does happen, it's so sweet and satisfying. (I recommend checking out their other fics too! Lots of sweetness.)

Lie To Me, Darling

By: Chrystie, kate882

Word Count: 19,214

Summary: Officer Dick Grayson is undercover in the infamous Red Hood's gang trying to track down the man behind the helmet. With his former partner killed for being found out, there's a new guy in the gang to take his place. Jason doesn't seem like the average new gang recruit, and Dick may be getting more than he bargained for trying to get close to him.

→ Okay, ngl I JUST now noticed that this one is by the same people as the first one, and I specifically didn't want to put multiple fics by the same people (just say I recommend checking out their other stuff, but not rec separately), but it's too late now and I don't have a 7th JayDick fic to recc that isn't also an author repeat, and I don't want it to be uneven.

But ANYWAY. This one will fuck you up, I can't lie. Unhappy ending, but if you can brave that, ohhh it's so good. It's so damn sweet whilst the good times last, even though you know it's only temporary and it's all going to go to hell at some point... man. It hurts. But it hurts so good. It's beautiful, and I personally think it's worth the pain.

Two Birds on a Wire

By: empires, pentapus

Word Count: 20,565

Summary: Dick asks Jason for help on a case. Jason should have never agreed.

→ It's probably laughable that I'm reccing this, since pentapus is one of the authors and their art is like huge in the JayDick fandom, and the fic has more than 22.5k views, which seems to be quite a lot as far as JayDick fics go. But in the event that you haven't read it yet... This is actually the very first JayDick fic I EVER read, it introduced me to the ship, and I just reread it and it's still just as amazing, what a winner to start out with!

The dynamic between Jay and Dick, the way Dick gets so into his undercover role, Jay's emotional turmoil, the action — it's all just absolute chef's kiss! It's so hard to write action well, and these two made this fic so engaging!

All Soulmates Final, No Refunds

By: empires, salvadore

Word Count: 38,900

Summary: Mystic Waters Grande Hotel sells itself as a luxury soulmate retreat with all manner of couple’s activities. The cost is high, and all is not as it appears on the hotel’s grounds. Dick and Jason go undercover as newlywed soulmates to find out what’s behind the rash of missing persons. And dig up old feelings in the process.

→ (Since empires was collaborating with two different people of the different fics, I don't count that as a repeat).

Well firstly, this is a rare Batman!Dick JayDick! And secondly, yes, one of the ubiquitous soulmate AUs. But with some very interesting twists! Also, like TBOAW above, the action in this is amazing, and absolutely had me on the edge of my seat. Similarly, their undercover personas were lots of fun, and it was very fun to see them push each other further and further with them.

Secrets of the Sea

By: ParzivalHallows

Word Count: 42,711

Summary: Being a merperson was dangerous enough, but being a merperson captured by pirates? That's got to be one of the worst fates for a merman. Merman Dick Grayson is captured by a slave ship, where he meets Jason Todd, who's a slave on that ship. Together, the two plan an escape. However, they need to put aside their odds first, which is very difficult for the two stubborn men.

→ I have to give you fair warning first, this one is incomplete and hasn't been updated since 2017, so I don't think it's ever going to be finished (but it can't hurt to leave a nice comment!) BUT WAIT, DON'T SCROLL YET, hear me out. It's really good, okay. You do need to mind the warning tags because there is major character death (not Jay or Dick though, and since it's not complete I'm kind of choosing to believe that they're not really dead and later in the story it actually turns out that they managed to survive).

There are a lot of grim things in this story, it's really about survival, but the worldbuilding is fucking phenomenal, and the author drew me right in. The descriptions and the action and emotion, the unexpected magic that they have to figure out? It's all so cool and well done.

Steady On Forward

By: JayseHasNoGrace

Word Count: 96,287

Summary: Dick Grayson's life has never been easy, but he'd like to think it's been going better lately. He's been operating mainly out of Gotham again for almost a year, and has been in a steady relationship for just over. He knows where he stands with crime-fighting, and the family is all on pretty good terms, considering.

Things are really going pretty well.

Unfortunately, the balance doesn't last long, and old horrors from Dick's past end up dredged up alongside new ones.

This is a story about love and family, but equally so about trauma and healing from it. Please heed the warnings in the preface.

→ Alright, the final JayDick rec, the longest, and the darkest. But wait, again, don't scroll! It's also by far the most hopeful AND FLUFFY. Now, the author is NOT fucking around about heeding those warnings, there's a shitload of them and it's really heavy, hard shit. Do not get me wrong, this fic is going to HURT you. But by the end, it's going to have felt so cathartic, and you're going so feel soft and hopeful and whole. I don't know how they did it, but it's SUCH an emotional rollercoaster. Another commenter on AO3 (mach5plus1) said it better than I could:

I gave this fic my whole heart, it took it, smiled and said “awwww, I’ll take care of it!“

Then started putting pressure on it and I told it “ouch, that hurts”

The fic kept smiling and put more pressure until a piece broke off (last chapter)

and then another (this chapter)

The fic keeps doing it until my heart is shattered into pieces and it’s standing over each shard with a frown saying “oops” (the upcoming chapters)

Then, after finding each piece again and picking them up, the fic will slowly push each piece back into place.

By the end it’ll give my heart back a little different, but somehow better than it was when I gave it away.

It will crush your heart, but it will lovingly patch it back together by the end, I promise. If you can read it without getting triggered, I thought everything was well handled, and it's so worth it. (I recommend checking out their other JayDick fic too, they only have one, but it's a fluffy romcom, so if you need a break after this one, that's there!)

#jaydick #fic rec #jaydick fanfic

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sparklingchan · 3 years

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The Prince and I || Jeong Yunho(Ateez)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Yunho.

Word count : 9.2k+

Warnings : Cuss words, minor injuries, Yunho BEING A FLUFFBALL!!

Genre : Fluff, angst, Arranged marriage au, Royal au.

Description : Your marriage to Prince Yunho feels like nothing less than a fairytale - but a fairytale is incomplete without a villain, right?

A/N: This fic took longer than I thought it would lol

This is a part of the holiday treats event conducted by kafenetwork. This fic is for the lovely Anna! I hope you like it and I hope it didn’t disappoint. I’m sorry I cannot tag you here because this site always decides to eat up my posts with tags in it :((

Enjoy!

"This wedding dress is a little expensive, granny."

The silky cloth slips away from in between your fingers, as quick as sand. You hadn't ever touched a piece of cloth as beautiful and smooth as this one, really. In fact, you'd never ever seen anything like the dress presented before you at the moment. And well, as much as you want to buy it, you knew you couldn't. Not unless you use up all your life's savings.

"I'm sure Ms. Claire here could find us something less...royal." you mutter again when your Grandmother doesn't respond.

Ms. Claire, the owner of the elegant boutique you find yourself standing in this morning, smiles at you sheepishly. "Oh, what nonsense! You will be married into a royal family, y/n. I cannot have you wear a normal wedding dress."

You sigh, turning away from the mannequin that donnes your dream wedding dress and crouching down to speak to your granny, "Granny, we won't have any money left if we buy this."

Your grandmother has been in the wheel chair for as long as you could remember. But she has more energy and life in her than most young people out there, including you. She's like this ball of sunshine who adores you to death. And now that the most important event of your life is slowly coming close with every passing day, you find her enthusiasm increasing likewise. She would wake up every morning and coax you to work out and do your skin care routine every night before bed. Today too, she forced you to allow her to tag along on your last shopping trip before your big day. Though you never say it out loud, your grandmother is nothing short of an angle. And you'd do anything to make her happy.

"I have saved up enough money to buy three such dresses, y/n." Your grandmother says as you lean down , "Miss Claire, pack this one up please."

Miss Claire nods and smiles at your granny, "Surely, madam."

Her assistant takes away the mannequin to get it packed up and billed.

You sit on the small couch present in the room as your eyes roam around the room full of pretty dresses and veils and shoes. It feels surreal all of a sudden, as if you were in a day dream you'd often think about as a teenager.

"What? Do you want anything else? I have enough money for that too." Your grandmother chimes in, rolling the wheelchair a little towards you, "Should we buy one for your mom too?"

Your mom, though equally excited for your wedding as your grandmother, was more on the realistic side. She'd give you a reality check ever so often - about husbands and in-laws and everything surrounding it. You're also not very sure your mom would appreciate spending so much money on dresses in a single day, especially when your wedding stands only four days away.

"No, granny, mom has enough dresses." You run a soothing hand through her grey and thin hair, "Aren't you tired? We've been out for a long time now."

"Do I look tired to you? " she raises an eyebrow, her eyes wrinkling up as she smiles at you sweetly. She's such an adorable little woman that it makes your heart melt everytime she looks at you.

"No," you roll your eyes, "Guess we can go and pick up Maya's dress while we're at it."

"Maya as in your best friend? The annoyingly loud girl from your college?" You snort at your granny's choice of words to describe your best friend.

You hear Miss Claire call you towards the payment counter and before you could move a finger, your granny races you to it.

"Come on, girl, what are you- eighty?" She teases you with a loud chuckle.

And still, you may not say it out loud , but your granny is your whole world. And when you are married off into the royal family of your father's old hometown, the only person you'll miss badly is probably your sweet old grandmother.

Later that evening, after dropping your grandma back home, you decide to walk to your best friend's apartment which is located just a few blocks away from yours. You carry her dress with you but deep down, you know that's not the only reason as to why you wanted to visit her this late at night.

"I need advice. "

"About what?"

"Marriage and life. "

Your best friend's eyes widen at your words. Her lips part as if she wanted to comment something but then stopped herself. "Maya, dude please. I'm terribly scared and I can't talk to anyone else at home." You admit, playing with the hem of your dress. A sudden sense of embarrassment and shyness washes over you but you push all that away before they get the best of you.

Maya puts down her dress on the bed.

"Y/n, I could give you all the advice in the world but believe me, you won't be able to apply it practically. I married a normal man from a normal family. We live in a cozy apartment in a city. But for you, it's different. You'll not marry a common person- you're marrying a prince for God's sake. A Crown Prince on top of that. You'll be living in a castle far away in the mountains. I don't know how my advice would be of any help here, y/n." Maya says, her hand gently patting yours.

You shift in your place, the bed creaking softly beneath you.

Maya is unarguably right - her advice won't be useful in your case. In fact, no one's advice would be useful to you unless they've had a first hand experience with an arranged marriage and a royal life. Yet these facts do little to comfort your growing fear and anxiousness.

"I haven't even met him in person yet. I only saw him over a few stupid video calls and in his pictures. I don't know what to expect." You say.

His Highness Crown Prince Yunho is a pretty busy man it turns out. So busy that he hasn't even been able to take some time out of his duties and come visit his fiancé for a few hours. He's a beautiful man, you have to say. Elegant and stylish and well mannered and everything about him screams Royal. He often texts you in his free time and calls you once in a blue moon. He seems like a nice man indeed, the kind you'd love to marry even without his royal heritage. But being his wife and a Crown Princess is a challenge you'd have to face completely on your own.

"Your granny thinks he's a good man, y/n. Maybe you should trust her judgement. Old people have that in themselves, you know." Maya says with a small smile, "Plus he's a Prince. You'll live a luxurious life, y/n. Don't be so pessimistic! I'm sure things will turn out great."

You give your best friend a tight hug for trying to cheer you up and helping you forget your fears even if it's just for a few hours . That night, as you toss and turn in your bed, trying to keep your mind free from thoughts about your life after marriage, you realise how big of a change this one thing will make.

And you're not very sure if you're ready for that change yet.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The weather is quite pleasant today, the sun shining softly through the thin curtain of clouds and the humidity deciding to be a little forgiving today but too bad you're stuck inside your room, folding clothes and making sure all your necessities are packed in the luggage.

"Well, this is not how I expected my last day at home to turn out, " you complain to your mother who sits across from you on the bed, helping you pack your things, "But it is what it is, I guess."

Your mom chuckles, placing your folded clothes into huge black suitcase spread open on the floor. "This isn't bad. You're alone with your family and friend, what more do you need?"

A fancy Bachelorette party with your friends and a few male strippers didn't sound like a very appropriate response so you decide to just shake your head.

"Aren't you angry though? Even just a little bit?" She asks. You scowl at the unexpected, out of context question. You are scared and anxious and nervous but angry? Not at all.

"What do you mean? Why would I be angry?" You reply, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "I'm fine."

She sighs, momentarily pausing her actions to face you. Her eyes are a little moist, you notice, and her lips pressed into a sad line. "Your grandmother betrothed you to Prince Yunho when you guys were just nineteen. It is an arranged marriage, to a person you don't know and a family which holds so much power. She didn't give you freedom to choose your own partner. Aren't you angry about that?" She elaborates.

You feel a soft tug in your heart at her words. You've been so preoccupied with worrying about how you'd handle yourself after marriage that you never really thought about this. Even so, when you really think about it, you can't find it in yourself to be angry at your grandmother.

"Granny and Prince Yunho's grandmother were best friends, mom. They made a promise and I respect that. Plus granny never forced me to say yes. I did that on my own account. " you explain yourself, your hand slowly reaching over to squeeze your mom's shoulder, "Don't worry about me. I'll manage. I always do."

Its rather funny how you were the one needing assurance from Maya a few nights ago and here you are, repeating the same words of encouragement to your mother. A part of you is obviously still terrified of the future, but that's not your mom's problem to deal with. It's entirely yours.

Your mom sniffs, but a tear manages to roll down her cheek, "I'll miss having you around. Why couldn't she have arranged your marriage to a normal person who lived in the same city?"

And then it finally dawns on you. It really is your last day at home. Your last day in the city you so dearly loved, your last day in the house which has seen you grow from a little baby to a beautiful, young woman. It's your last day as y/n y/l/n, your parents' only child and your grandmother's favorite grandchild. Tomorrow, you would be a Princess, a wife, a person of political importance. And your heart breaks a little at the thought of never getting this life back again.

"Mom.." you mutter, your eyes tearing up as well. Words fall short when it comes to describing how much you'll miss everyone and everything here. Starting from your friends to your family to the smallest of decorative items in your room that you've managed to collect over the years. It's like a piece of you would just cease to exist. As the night grows darker and the day crosses over to the next one, you hold your mother close as the both of you let out the quietest of sobs and realise that this might be the last time she'd have you all to herself.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The journey from your parents' old house to Prince Yunho's ancestral palace is short - not with respect to time but with respect to the fact that amidst tearful eyes and memory flashbacks, the car ride gives you little to no time to settle your hurricane of thoughts.

As your dad's car slowly pulls over in front of a huge black metal gate, you are welcomed with a view that seems right out of a fairytale. The Royal palace is located in the most beautiful locations you've ever been to, a place you never thought could exist in real life. It almost feels like you are in a dream. With the beautiful backdrop of lush green mountains in the back, the Palace stands tall on the foothills of the mountains. The pastel pink walls and the carefully carved window panes look ethereal with contrast to the tall black gates that securely surround the palace. A group of servants are rowed in front of the man main entrance, with warm smiles and trays full of welcome drinks.

But you're far too mesmerized by the place to bother consuming anything at the moment.

This place - this breathtakingly gorgeous palace with the biggest gardens and tallest fountains- would be your home. For a long time, home meant your crammed little apartment which always smelt like cinnamon and bread. It had no big gardens, no servants, no fountains but it was your home. Your safe place. You wonder if this place could ever feel like home.

"Geez, y/n, I'm so jealous." Maya whisper-squeals in your ear as the servants lead you inside, "Do you want to exchange husbands?"

You nudge her gently with your elbow, "Shut up. Or I'll have you thrown out."

You are made to walk through a quiet hallway that has a huge wooden door at the end. On both sides of the hallway, pictures and paintings and vintage weapons are displayed like in museums and the marble floor beneath you shines like water under the sun. Every nook and corner of this place is a treasure waiting to be discovered, you realise.

The servants open the wooden door and lead you inside into what appears to look like a Throne Room. Now, you'd never really been to one before but movies and books have taught you that this is what a Throne room probably looks like - with a Grand Throne placed at the very center and numerous chairs placed on either side of it. The walls in this room are graced with more pictures and paintings of kings and queens and common people and soldiers. You wonder if your picture would ever be up there somewhere in the future.

"Oh, hello lovely people!" A manly voice booms through the hall, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

A few quick taps of feet on the floor and there stands in front of you a very familiar face - as if you'd almost seen him in a dream.

Black tuxedo, perfectly styled hair, a walkie-talkie in his hand, the man before you looks right out of a James Bond movie. "I'm Choi San, Prince Yunho's personal secretary and the royal family's representative for the day."

He claps his hands together, "Her Highness the Queen Regent, Her Highness the Queen Mother and His Highness Crown Prince Yunho sadly couldn't be here since they have some important charity event to attend. I deeply apologize for that. In their place, allow me to welcome you to the Jeong family's Grand palace!"

"You'll all be taken to your rooms now because you must be tired from the journey. If you need anything, just tell one of these servants."

The servants nod at San and signal you and your family to follow them.

"Uh, lady Y/n. Mind if I have a word with you?" San interrupts.

Although surprised, you nod as you let your family walk off to their rooms.

"Yes?" You ask San.

San's eyes are focused on your frame - every movement, every expression, every word - he's observing you as if to make sure you're the right person for Prince Yunho. You feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"Yunho did say you're a charming person. I just didn't think I'd agree with him before, but now..I definitely do." San giggles, offering you his hand, "I'm Choi San at your service, madam. Your wish is my command."

You bow gently at him, "I'm y/n y/l/n. It's nice to meet you too, sir."

San chuckles, "Please don't call me that, your Highness. I'm your employee. Besides I have something important to talk to you about. "

The last few words form a tight knot in your stomach, fear finding it's way through your veins.

"Y-yeah?"

"You have a coronation ceremony tonight. I hope you know that. We've already hired a stylist who will take care of all you from now on. She'll meet you immediately after lunch." San explains, "And here's my business card. Contact me if anything comes up, okay?"

You gulp as you accept the shining business card from him, "Thanks. I'll do that."

San smiles sympathetically, as if he understood the fears swimming inside you. He offers you a gentle, encouraging pat on the shoulder.

"I know how you feel. A palace is a scary place, I won't deny. But if I can survive here, so can you. Plus you have Yunho. He's the nicest man a person could ever ask for, I'm sure." San says.

Your whole body relaxes a little as a soft breeze of comfort washes over you with the words leaving San's mouth. This is what you'd been wanting to hear for a long time - a reassurance that you'll be safe and okay as a member of the Royal family and that Prince Yunho might be a person you could love. But for now, you focus on keeping your self calm.

"Now, do you mind walking me to my room? I find myself a bit lost." You giggle.

San finds himself chuckling in response, "Of course, your majesty."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

When San had told you that you'd have your own personal stylist, you did not expect this . Even in your wildest dreams, this is not something you'd catch yourself wanting.

The beautiful blue gown clutches to your upper body at just the right places and then flows down your waist like a beautiful waterfall under the sunlight. A diamond necklace graces your otherwise empty neck complimented with matching earrings. The stylist - Alisa - puts your hair up in a pretty bun and then places a beautiful diamond tiara on your head. And when your eyes finally land on your reflection in the mirror, your mouth hangs open with no words but just air slipping out of it as response.

"Do you like it, your Highness?" Alisa asks with hopeful eyes. Her shy smile giving away the fact that she wants you to like what she's done, her efforts and ideas.

You have to blink hard for a few more seconds before coming to terms with the fact that you look so beautiful right now. A part you is in denial while a part of you is jumping around, doing a victory dance in happiness. You weren't used to seeing yourself look this good. Your heart leaps at the thought of Prince Yunho seeing you like this - almost like a princess who's lived in castles all her life. And then you realize that you would be one ; in only a few minutes.

"I love it, Alisa. You're brilliant!" You exclaim, wrapping your arms tightly around the stylist in happiness. By Lisa's stiff response, you are sure you'd taken her by surprise. Royals do not go around hugging normal stylists yet this hug was a symbol of your thankfulness towards her for putting so much effort into you, to make you feel special. Alisa's proud smile reaches to her eyes as she quickly works on placing the brooch pin in the right place on your dress.

A knock on your room's door attracts your attention and you are quick to fix yourself in case it was someone from the Royal family.

"I'll get that." Alisa jogs quickly towards the door.

When the door creaks opens, you see a familiar face standing there - familiar enough to know it was your fiancé, the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, with the kindest smile and brightest eyes. Your heart stops beating for a dangerous second.

"Oh, hello your Highness. " Alisa greets him, bowing slightly, "Miss y/n is ready to go."

And when Yunho looks at you, your soul as if escapes your body. "H-hi, Prince Yunho."

He walks towards you with warm, red cheeks and perfect black hair and a stylish black tuxedo and offers you his hand, "It's nice to finally meet you, my lady."

How does one ever respond to that? How does one ever behave in front of an actual, real life prince, who also happens to be your fiancé? He presses his lips to your fingers ever so gently.

The butterflies in your stomach go wild.

"Shall we go now? Everyone's waiting for you, my lady." He asks.

You nod, wrapping an arm around his, "Yes."

The short walk towards the throne room is mostly filled with a comfortable sense of silence, except for the times when Prince Yunho points at some random picture on the wall and talks about it. Your eyes seem to be following every movement of his, and everytime your eyes meet, you find yourself melting under his gaze. You are smitten by him and there's no denying in that.

On entering the throne room, all heads turn towards you - ministers, relatives, your family, Yunho's friends, San and all servants present there observe you as Yunho walks you down the flowery aisle leading to the Throne. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, scary yet exciting, they follow your every movement and every word and every expression.

And when they bow down slightly as you stand on the right side on the Throne, you realise these people weren't just bowing at Yunho, there were also bowing down at you. Because you'll be his wife tomorrow, a princess, a figure that should be loved by the people. The only thing keeping you grounded is Yunho's gentle hand softly clutching yours. It's as if he could sense your inner turmoil before even you do it yourself. "Are you nervous?" He whispers in your ear.

"Yes, a little. "

"Don't be. I'm here with you."

The main door to the hall opens and two women walk inside, at least ten soldiers walking in front and behind them, guns at ready and eyes critically scanning all the faces.

The older woman, who you assume to be the Queen Mother and Yunho's grandmother, wears a sweet smile and walks as gracefully as ever even in this senile age. She waves gleefully at the crowd bowing down to her. On her left stands a slightly younger woman, Yunho's aunt and the Queen Regent who has been the ruler of this kingdom after Yunho's parents passed away in a tragic accident ten years ago. Rumor has it that the Queen Regent is a strict, emotionless ruler who has no mercy for criminals and is harsh with all the employees of the palace. You notice her serious gaze fixed in your direction and shudder in fear even though you've barely ever talked to her before.

"May the Queen Mother live long! May the Queen Regent live long!" Someone chants and the others follow suit in the blink of an eye.

You suddenly feel as if you are in some period drama.

The Queen Regent takes her place on the throne while the Queen Mother takes a seat on the left side of the Throne. A single wave of the Queen Regent's hand and the crowd goes completely silent.

"Hello to everyone gathered here today. I am very, very glad to welcome a new member of the family - lady y/n y/l/n. She is to be the wife of my beloved nephew Yunho and the future Queen of this kingdom. Please give her a warm welcome!"

The hall erupts into claps and cheers and your name being repeated as if in a chant. Your grip on Yunho's arm tightens.

"I'm there, my lady." He says again, "Don't be afraid."

San brings out a huge sword and places it in the Queen Regent's hands. This sword is what you assume to be the Jeong family's old, sacred sword used by generations and generations of brave kings and queens to protect themselves as well as the citizens of their beloved country. This sword is a symbol of pride and victories. And a lost history.

"As per ancient traditions, I will now be crowning miss y/n as a princess before her wedding with the prince tomorrow. From now on she will be called her Highness Crown princess Y/n. She is an important member of our family from this day forth."

"Y/n, go on and kneel in front of my aunt." Yunho whispers, nodding at you with a proud smile, "You're doing so great already."

You comply by his words and kneel in front of the throne, your head hanging low and eyes squeezed shut with anxiousness of what is to come.

"Welcome to the family, y/n." You hear the Queen Regent's voice before she gently taps your right shoulder with the tip of the sword and then the left one. You feel a few droplets of water being sprinkled on your face.

"Rise, Crown Princess. Face your people and let them welcome you with open arms."

It is done. You are a princess now. This can never be undone, this name, this title will stick with you till the end of time. You're no longer a normal girl with small dreams and basic requirements, you're a future Queen now.

Rise, Crown Princess.

And you do.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Every person has dreamt about their own wedding at least once in their life - whether it is in the peak of their teenage or in the innocent wonders of their childhood or the wildest dreams of their adult years, this thought found itself in everyone's mind.

You had one such dream too.

But your dream had always been very simple. A nice man, your closest friends and family, a cheap and beautiful wedding dress, a small party with limited people - that is all you've ever wanted. You didn't want a gathering of four hundred people who you barely knew, the new reporters shoving their cameras into your face, heavy make up or expensive jewelry, or a husband who you barely knew. But guess that is what the Gods had written in your fate. And you have no option now than to accept things the way they are.

You don't remember much from the wedding ceremony or the huge party that follows, really ; you only remember Yunho's lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead when the priest asks the groom to kiss the bride(probably the best part of the day), your grandmother's tears of happiness and Alisa and San winking at the two of you after the ceremony was over. Everything else felt like a blur, as if your head had been underwater all this while.

An hour or so into the party, Prince Yunho asks you to walk with him. Alone. Though reluctant, how could you ever say no to those innocent eyes? The discomfort from being surrounded by hundreds of unknown people slowly disappears as the two of you walk around the garden, your eyes never meeting but a sense of familiarity settling between the two of you.

"I'm not used to this, you know." He says with a shy smile.

The sky is beautiful, decorated with stars and a full moon but nothing compares the glow on Yunho's face when he turns to glance at you.

"Used to what?" You enquire, "Having so many people here?"

He shakes his head, "No. I'm used to having a lot of people here. That's all I've ever seen. What I'm not used to is this. Having a partner or someone else live in my room with me."

"So...?"

"I'm happy about it. I really am. But I know you're new to this royal lifestyle and we barely even know each other that well but I hope you don't regret this marriage. Because I'm sure that I won't. " Yunho sighs, "And if you ever feel like it's not worth your time anymore, you are more than free to leave. Forget about everyone else, do what your heart says. "

The last phrase catches you off guard. It is very, very rare to find people who give you this sort of freedom in any arrangement. The fact that he opens up his thoughts to you makes your heart leap with happiness. And a little sadness too that he'd think you'd leave him so easily.

"Hey," you pat his arm, "I'm not leaving anytime soon. I promise. We made a vow, didn't we?"

Yunho blushes at your words, but under the bright moonlight it goes unnoticed by you.

"Do you mind if I hold your hand?" He suggests after a few seconds of silence.

The butterflies in your stomach are seemingly having the time of their life these past few days.

"I don't." You slide your hand into his and your fingers intertwine almost instantly. His warm palm presses against your cold one, bring a sense of comfort you never thought you'd ever experience. In the midst of a chaotic royal gathering and the paparazzi trying to sneak in through the gates, you and Yunho find a small world for yourselves that no one else can ever have access to.

And for the first time in months, you realise that this marriage might be worth more than what you thought it would be.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You've always wondered what the people in royal palaces do. Do they spend all their time greeting the citizens and walking in the gardens? Do they keep dancing in the ballroom all the time? Or do they busy themselves with war conspiracies?

Sadly you realise that royal life sounds very exciting and extravagant only when you're not the one actually living a life like that. And this conclusion dawns on you only after ten days of the wedding.

The first week is packed with activities, alright. Visiting the common people and distant relatives and going to various public events. Your curiosity was at its peak till a few days ago, but now here you are, sitting on the edge of your soft bed, phone in lap and eyes drooping with sleepiness, wondering how to keep yourself occupied.

"Y/n?" The door creaks open as Yunho peeks inside shyly, "Can I come in?"

You nod, "It's your room, Yunho. You don't need my permission to enter."

"Oh, I was just making sure you weren't doing anything you didn't want me to see."

Oh. Your cheeks turn into crimson fruits as his words finally hit you.

"Anyway, I actually came to get my file. But I saw you sitting here. Are you bored?"

Are you? Heck, yes!

"Yes." You reply almost guiltily.

Chuckling, he leans down to press a loving kiss on top of your head, "Come on. I'll show you something."

You took pride in the fact that after only a week of staying here, you knew the palace fairly well. The corridors and paintings and artifacts and the workers weren't as foreign to you anymore. Yet the path Yunho takes you to seems weirdly unfamiliar.

Guess new surprises await everyday.

Soon enough, your steps halt in front of a huge wooden door labeled as ' library '.

Rows and rows of books welcome you the moment you step inside, Yunho leading the way into the most beautiful library you'd ever seen in your life. As always, paintings grace the wooden walls and a huge crystal chandelier hangs from the middle most point of the ceiling.

"Yunho...is this..what heaven looks like?"

The smell of old and new books hit your nostrils as you run a gentle hand over the book kept in the shelves, feeling the various materials of book covers brush past your fingertips.

"Maybe." Yunho responds with a grin.

Yunho's heart feels full with adoration and content at the sight of you dancing around the books shelves, gleefully taking notes of the books you plan to read on the days to come. Your eyes curl up into crescent moons as your toothy smile seems to have taken Yunho's breath away. Beautiful is what you look. Simple and elegant and so innocent.

All his life he's spent among royal people, people with political intentions and lots of money. But you make him feel differently. Being with you feels like a breath of fresh air for Yunho. And who wouldn't like that?

"Earth to Yunho." You click your fingers in front of his face after you catch him staring at you. Not that you didn't like it, but you had to do something before you turn into a mush before his eyes, "What are you thinking?"

"Oh, um..nothing." you. He was thinking about you, "How about I ask the workers to bring my office stuff over here? I can work here while you read. I don't want you to be alone."

A shameless grin plasters over your lips.

"I'd like that, Yunho. I'd like that very much. "

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"How's the married life treating you?" Your granny asks you this question every damn time she decides to call you.

And surprisingly somehow, you always answer positively to her query.

"Well, good. I think so at least. " you smile to yourself, remembering the soft kiss Yunho had placed on your head as he left for an official trip this morning. Even in your half asleep state, your cheeks had turned bright red, "Prince Yunho is a nice man. "

"Oh, of course he is! I wouldn't have asked you to marry him otherwise, you idiot." She yells at you although you know she's smiling through the phone, "Anyway, I can't talk for long today. I have a doctor's appointment so I'll need to dress up for that."

That comes as a surprise, "What? Are you sick ?"

"God, no. I'm not a weakling, okay? It's the regular check up. Don't worry." She says, "Bye now. "

The line goes silent.

Sighing, you put your phone down on the night stand. On times like this, when the room is too quiet and you are too lazy to walk out and talk to other people, you start missing home. A lot more than usual. Your house, though only consisting of four people was way too noisy from sunset till sundown and somehow, you'd gotten used to it. The quietness has yet to grow on you.

A slight knock on the door attracts your attention and you immediately allow whoever it is to come inside.

"Oh, Alisa. It's you!" You exclaim as relief washes over you on seeing a familiar face.

"Yes, your Highness. How have you been?" She bows down to you, "Are you able to adjust to this new life?"

"I've been okay, you could say. Still a little overwhelmed whenever I have to face people but I think I'm getting there." You laugh a little.

Alisa gives you an understanding nod, "I totally understand. But I'm glad you're feeling more comfortable. By the way, I came here to ask you if you wanted to visit my boutique in the town nearby. It's a new one and I wanted you to come see it before the inauguration. "

Your heart jumps at the offer. You remember back in your college days, you would often go shopping with Maya, especially on weekends. The two of you would wait for months for a sale or special offers because online shopping sometimes just doesn't do it for you. You smile, nostalgic, "I'd love to go."

"And then maybe we could go and eat in the pizzeria nearby. It serves the best pizza in the world, I swear."

This is just beyond tempting at this point, a literal trap to have you step out of the role of a royal Princess and embracing the careless city girl inside of you and who are you to keep her hidden for too long?

"What are we waiting for then?"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Yunho surprises you every now and then.

On the outside, he is a strict man with the sharpest of brains and the most observant eyes. The title of being a crown prince sits heavy on his shoulders and with every passing day, the weight just get heavier.

On the contrary, the Yunho you get to see everyday is very different. Soft and cheerful and smiley, he's the literal embodiment of the sunshine and your heart doesn't seem to rest everytime you see him.

It must have been roughly a month since the wedding when he makes an impromptu plan of visiting your city and your parents' house since it had been a long time you last saw them.

"Heard you were going to your parents house?" You had gotten ready to go before Yunho did, so instead of sitting in your bedroom, you decided take a short walk outside in the gardens. And as you strolled around aimlessly among the flowers and bushes, deep in thoughts, you had come across the Queen Mother sitting by the water fountain.

"Yes, your majesty." You reply, rather intimated by her aura.

It's hard to accept sometimes that this person is best friends with your grandmother, when the both of them are as different from each other as the two poles! Your grandmother is the ever so sweet, smiling, supportive person. You would never see her angry or upset. But on the other hand, the Queen Mother is uptight, very quiet and rarely ever smiles. Just like her daughter, the Queen Regent. Maybe it's a royal thing but you're glad you don't have to see this serious side of Yunho on a daily basis.

"Good. The farther from here, the better." She mumbles.

You are alarmed at her words, "I'm sorry?"

She sighs, her walking sticking tapping the marble wall of the fountain, "Y/n, I adore you. I might not show it but I'm glad my grandson has someone like you to make his life less lonely. But you have to be careful. Not everyone is appreciative of a person of common birth being crowned as a Crown Princess. "

Fear slowly clutches you in its palms. You had gotten very occupied with Yunho and being a crown princess and making new friends, you admit. So occupied that you let your guard down. And the Queen Mother's words sound more like an advice than a threat.

"Should I be worried?" You ask, your skin going cold at the thought of someone actually wanting to hurt you.

"Not yet, no. But be very, very careful. You cannot trust anyone here. Not even me. The only person you can lean on is Yunho. Why? Because he might be as much in danger as you."

Have you ever seen how people start panicking when any sort of alarm goes off? Yeah, thats exactly how you feel at that moment.

"Y/n, let's go!" You hear Yunho call you from the front gate, already taking his seat inside his car.

You bow at the Queen Mother before jogging towards Yunho, your heart no longer into the trip as it were a few minutes ago.

Yet seeing your parents and granny after so long did comfort you.

They had prepared this small barbeque party in your backyard, your dad playing guitar and purposely singing badly to embarrass you while your mother shows Yunho your childhood pictures. And the food, oh, the food! The five star chefs from Yunho's palace could never replace this comfort food you had at your parents house. It might not be well decorated with garnishes or spices or fancy plates but it made you feel like everything will eventually be okay - which is exactly what you needed at the moment.

The entire evening you try hard to talk to Yunho but when your house is full of three excited adults, it is hard to do that. Around one am in the morning, you finally find yourself in your old bedroom, Yunho's fascinated eyes roaming around the room that feels like it were straight out of some teenage romance movie. Where in reality you'd honestly been too lazy to change the room's layout once you outgrew your teenage obsessions and interests.

"You seem to be liking my room a little too much. " you chuckle, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, your face partly squished into your favorite pillow.

The boyband posters, old polaroids from your school functions, romance novels stacked up neatly by the nightstand - all of this is as foreign to him as his palace is to you.

Yunho lies down beside you, still in awe of the room, "Yeah, it literally mirrors your personality. "

"How?"

"I can't explain it, you know," he clicks his tongue, "But everything in this room screams y/n. Like everything here is made only for you."

You raise your eyebrow at his words. He's very observant, that you've noticed, but the fact that he knows you this well in barely a month warms your heart.

"What about our bedroom in the palace? Is it not made for me?"

"Oh, it is. Of course it is. But you're staying there because you have to, right? Because we're married and all that." He replies.

"No, I'm not. I told you Yunho - I'm staying there because I want to." You say, now no longer in a mood to joke around.

Suddenly, the words from The Queen Mother swim back into your mind, as you start seeing her words in a completely different light.

Yunho has somehow always expressed how he is unable to believe your presence around him and how he acts like you're doing a favor by doing that. And you find yourself wondering if Yunho knows what she'd said to you. The danger that looms above both of your heads must not be as much of a secret to him than you thought it would be. So instead of confronting him, you decide to comfort him.

"We'll be fine, Yunho. " you drag your hand towards his, your body relaxing the moment he squeezes it back, "Both of us."

Yunho looks at you with love and desire clear in his eyes, his free hand slowly dragging towards your face. You could see it now- the loneliness from the loss of his parents and the negligence from his aunt and grandmother throughout his childhood still very much exists behind the mask of a happy prince. You do not know the language of royal people or politics but you do know the language of love and more than a stupid gold crown, he needs someone to love him. And thats exactly what you intend to do.

Was it too soon? You didn't care anymore. And you know for a fact that he didn't either.

You lean in close and press your forehead to his, "You're not alone anymore. Okay?"

You see him smile from your hooded gaze, your breath mixing with his in an intoxicating mixture. "Thank you, y/n. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

And that in itself are a combination of words much more heavier than a simple 'I like you.'

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"The Queen Regent wishes to see you."

San runs up to you the first thing the next morning, right after breakfast.

"Why?" You ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You had a plan to accompany your granny and the Queen Mother to their small tea party in a nearby Farmhouse but you couldn't obviously say no to meeting the Queen Regent. Because well, she's the Queen.

"I don't know, your Highness. I try to stay away from her as much as possible but whenever our paths do cross, she always assigns some work to me." He whines, "Go on, I'll tell the Queen Mother that you're occupied. I will be heading out with Yunho right now anyway."

Shaking your head in annoyance, you make your way to the Queen Regent's office.

Her office smells like expensive cigars the moment you step inside, and the full ashtray on her table only feeds into your conclusions.

"You asked for me, your majesty?" You ask in a low voice.

When she looks up from writing in her journal, your heart skips a few beats in fear. Her eyes hold no resemblance to Yunho's angelic ones or even The Queen Mother's serious ones. They look like two deep, bottomless black holes that swallow everything and anything in its vicinity. Her long hair is tied in a braid and her lips quiver passively upon seeing you.

"Ah, yes." She replies, "Please have a seat."

You take the chair in front of her desk, uncomfortable at the close proximity between you and the one person who everyone tries to avoid.

"How are you?" She begins, closing her journal and keeping her pen inside the drawer, "How are things going with Yunho?"

"I'm good, thank you for asking. And yes, things are going well with Yunho."

Her question seems odd, but you let it pass.

"Okay. That's really great to hear. Anyway, I met your husband a little while ago. And he asked me to tell you that he intends to see you on the rooftop alone later tonight." She raises an eyebrow, a gentle smile playing on her lips, "Looks like he has a date planned."

Her words seem too far fetched to be true. Too unrealistic. Not the date part though, but the part where he specifically ask her to pass on the message to you. He could have easily asked San or Lisa or even told you in first person, so why would he choose the Queen Regent out of so many people when he you've barely seen him talk to her?

But you're a Crown Princess, and she's the Queen and you cannot question her. "Okay, I'll be there." You get up from your seat and bowing gently, "Thank you for letting me know, your majesty. By the way, did he mention what time I am to go ?"

"Oh um...Around seven in the evening?" She's fumbling on her words, and you're sure she's lying about something.

Still you suppress your doubts and walk back to your room, hoping to find the truth behind her words this evening at seven.

The entire day goes by in the blink of an eye, but to you it feels like an eternity. The curiosity has you sitting at the edge of your bed, ready to make a run for it if any danger ever comes your way.

Yunho, who was out with San for some official work has surprisingly not texted you today at all. And it only adds to your doubts of the Queen Regent being a liar.

And when night finally falls, you find yourself tense up more than you'd done the entire day.

The night is quiet, calm but beautiful and as you step into the terrace and the soft wind kisses your face, you almost believe the Queen Regent's words. Maybe Yunho did really plan a surprise date for you. Because this is everything that Yunho likes. A beautiful night and a company he loves.

The terrace stands high giving you a beautiful view of the entire palace complex, the gardens and everything beyond. And for a moment, your worries diminish as you step near the railing, inhaling the fresh air and you feel safe.

But, you see, that's where you are wrong. This imaginary cloud of safety that you'd thought was around you was never there in the first place. Since the first time you stepped into the palace, all eyes have been on you - on every action, every activity, every word. You'd always been swimming in a dangerous sea. One wrong move, and you realise the shark is right behind you. And just how the Queen Mother had told you, you were only ever safe with Yunho by your side. But he isn't here anymore.

So it doesn't come as a when a pair of rough hands give you a single, harsh push, sending you falling right down five floors.

"You will never be our queen." Is what you hear before your vision dissolves into a black hole.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

When you were six years old, you fell down your bike once while trying to copy some stupid stunt you'd seen people on television shows do. The excruciating pain that followed the fall was something which you thought you'd never have to experience again. That was the kind of pain which hurts you down to your very bones, sending waves of shock through your body with a single movement of your hands.

And that is exactly how you expect to feel the moment you open your eyes and come face to face with a familiar ceiling. But all you feel is sore, like how you feel the morning after exercising after a long while.

The bandages on your arms and abdomen indicate that your fall wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be but it was, nevertheless, a fall which was very much done on purpose.

"Y/n, honey, are you awake?" You hear Yunho's groggy voice coming from somewhere near the foot of the bed you lie on.

"Y-yeah. What happened?" You manage to sit up even though your body feels heavy with fatigue, "How did I fall?"

Yunho appears by your bed side in the blink of an eye and your heart clenches with relief when he bends down to kiss your head.

It feels like you hadn't seen him in days, years, where as it had only been around two days since you passed out. Yunho had rushed back home the moment he found out about it, leaving all his stupid official work for some other day. Hell, he would happily give up all his responsibilities if it means he could see you and keep you safe. He'd cried for nights and days, never leaving your side even when the nurses would change your clothes or bandage dressing. The mere thought of you never waking up again was too dark for him, especially when he'd found such a happy place in you. You are the owner of his heart and everything else that he could give you. You are, literally, his only family member. His whole world. And if he loses you, he would lose himself with you.

"A-are you okay?" He sits down on the bed, holding your hand so tight as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let's go, "does it hurt anywhere?"

"Just a little bit, but I'm okay. I feel fine." You say, smiling through your busted lips.

Your smile as if breaks a wall he'd been holding onto for days, and his eyes immediately tear up.

"I'm so so sorry, y/n. I should have been there. I should have been protecting you. I keep forgetting I'm not a stupid guy with a normal life and that people I associate with might get into trouble anytime. I'm so sorry, I should have protected you from my Aunt and Alisa. I'm so fucking sorry."

Aunt? And Alisa? What is he taking about?

"Yunho, what are you -"

"They planned it. The entire thing. They purposely sent me and grandma away so no one would doubt them. Aunt had supposedly promised my hand in marriage to Alisa a long time ago but Grandma got us married instead. They were angry. So angry that they went ahead and tried to k-kill you. " he sobs into his hands, the tip of his nose turning bright red, "Alisa was the one who pushed you. They forgot to remove the CCTV footage."

You freeze for a second, Alisa's betrayal hurting you worse than The Queen Regent's. You almost thought you could find a friend in her, just like Maya. You trusted her. You felt safe around her when in reality, she'd only been a time bomb - waiting to blow up.

"Alisa did?" You mutter, your lips drying with fear, "I-I don't know what to say. Yunho, I- I can't believe Alisa would do this."

"I didn't either. But both of them have admitted to it. The police took them. I'm so sorry, y/n. " Yunho rubs his tears away, "I talked to your granny and parents. They said you could move back in with them. The divorce will take about a year or so to get finalized but you don't have to stay here till then. You can go back home whenever you want."

Your heart crushes in your chest. The fear of abandonment Yunho carries within himself yet he has the guts to let you go is something you would forever admire and hate in him. How could he think this way, especially after you've reassured him countless number of times that you're here to stay.

"I didn't agree to a divorce. What the fuck are you even cooking up in that mind of yours?" You say, stern and angry.

He looks up at you, his guilty eyes making the pain in your chest more painful.

"Y/n, please, you cannot stay with -"

"Shut up. Just shut up. I don't care. I don't care what you think. I am an adult and the crown princess of this kingdom and I will do as I please. " you almost yell, "I am staying here, with you, for better or worse. I told you I wouldn't leave. "

Yunho bursts into tears, wrapping his arms gently around you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you gently pat his back, reassuring him that you'd always stay. No matter what.

"Y-you might get hurt again, y/n. I don't want you to stay and get hurt again." But his tight hold on your body tells you otherwise.

"We're both in danger for the rest of our lives. Does that mean we stop living?" You whisper, pulling away from the embrace only to grab his chin, "Does that mean we stop loving?"

He shakes his head as his lips curve down and a shaky sob escapes his mouth, "Nothing will ever happen to you again, I swear. I will keep you safe. You will not have a reason to complain again."

You nod, dabbing his tears away with your thumb, "I know. I believe you. "

You stare into his eyes - his beautiful eyes made of the finest stardust that make your brain go hazy every morning that you wake up and find them right beside you. And that's exactly how you choose to wake up every morning till the end of your days.

"Is this the part where we kiss or what, because I've waited a long time -" he cuts your blabbering off by finally placing his plump, peachy lips on yours ever so tenderly.

He steals all the air from lungs, driving you breathless and crazy with every movement of his lips on yours and the gentle touch of his fingers on your face only adds to the unbounded euphoria you feel at the moment. He's beautiful. Even with your eyes closed, you know that he is beautiful. And not just with his face, he is a beautiful man inside out. He is yours and nothing in this world can ever change that. So when he pulls away, panting and out of breath, and gently kisses your forehead, you say, "I love you, my prince."

These words. These damn words that he'd waited for months to hear, nights he spent dreaming about hearing them. And he has to mentally slap himself to make himself believe this all to be true.

Stealing a quick kiss from your lips again, he whispers, "I love you, too, my princess. "

192 notes · View notes

thatmultifandomhoe · 3 years

Text

BTS - Master List

No word count = under 1k.

💞 = Fluff

🌩 = Angst

💋 = Smut

Updated as of 6-6-2021.

Click here to Return to the Main Master List.

Drabbles:

This is Girl Talk, so Leave 💞

Slice of Life AU

Do you think I’m scared of a woman? 💞

College AU

Slice of Life AU

Short Stories:

A Lifetime under Moonlit Nights 🌩 💞

God AU

Overview: It was a love story that began when Gods roamed the Earth, and lasted over the course of several centuries, always under the beauty of a moonlit sky. When one life cut too short, you realize how tiresome it is to constantly be reborn.

Series:

Dad Jokes and Spilled Coffee 💞

Book 7 in the Mated Love is Never Easy Universe

Hybrid AU

Overview: TBW

Sneak Peak: “I knew I was handsome, but now I’m just hot. And it’s not because of the coffee that you spilled on me either.”

Drabbles:

Please...love me 🌩

Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween 💞

Safety First 🌩

Unrequited Love AU

College AU

Short Stories:

If you can’t sleep...we could have sex? 💞 💋

Slice of Life AU

Overview: You can’t fall asleep. So Yoongi finds an alternative solution to your problem.

A Slice of Forever 💞 🌩

Vampire AU

Poly AU

Featuring Namjoon

Overview: They were just stories. Werewolves, Witches, Gremlins, Vampires...they were all a story that thrived off of Halloween. At least, that’s what you thought. Until you met them.

Series:

Midnight Love Songs 💞 🌩 💋

Book 4 in the Mated Love is Never Easy Universe

Hybrid AU

Overview: TBW

Sneak Peak: “The stars are pretty, but there’s a moon that shines more brightly, and who I love quite dearly.”

Drabbles:

Tied Up 💞 💋

Date Night AU

Short Stories:

Man-Child 🌩

Idol AU

Stop Being So Cute 💞

Coffee Shop AU

Overview: Dating is never easy. So when your best friend sets you up on a blind date, you agree to meet up at a coffee shop. Only problem is, he never shows up, and a certain barista can’t help glancing your way.

Daydreaming About Dandelions 💞

Daycare AU

Overview: For the time that they were in your classroom, they were your kids and nothing meant more to you than them. Being a teacher at a daycare was your life, and to your surprise, the new teacher Mr. Hoseok, was going to be shadowing you for the day.

Hookup on an Airplane 💋💞

Traveling AU

Overview: You were finally achieving your dream of traveling the world, and the the first stop on your list was South Korea. After a stressful morning and with a long day ahead, all you wanted to do was sleep on the plane. But when your seat mate turns out to be cute, and offers to help you take care of a certain problem, well, the flight suddenly becomes more fun than you expected.

Series:

Strawberry Cream and BBQ 💞 💋 🌩

85k in total.

Book 1 in the Mated Love is Never Easy Universe

Hybrid AU

Completed

Overview: Your best friend knows that she can count on your for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way that no one expected.

Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble 💞 4k

Drabbles:

Does he know about the baby? 💞

Slice of Life AU

Overview: Namjoon accidentally reads a text that wasn’t meant for him.

Short Stories:

My Everything 💞

Slice of Life AU

Overview: You go to a family reunion that only results in disaster with how your family treats you, so you go back home to seek comfort in your boyfriend.

Yellow Gerber Daises 💞

Slice of Life AU

Overview: It’s your birthday, but you’re the one who has a surprise for Namjoon.

Stop interrupting me 🌩

Slice of Life AU

Dear Diary... 💞

Soul Mate AU

College AU

Overview: The last thing Namjoon expected was to wake up in someone else’s bed, let alone with a stranger who he doesn’t remember in the slightest bit.

A Slice of Forever 💞 🌩

Vampire AU

Poly AU

Featuring Yoongi

Overview: They were just stories. Werewolves, Witches, Gremlins, Vampires...they were all a story that thrived off of Halloween. At least, that’s what you thought. Until you met them.

Brotið Hjarta 🌩💞

25k

Fantasy AU

Elf AU

Norse Light Elf Mythology

Overview: When a magical storm threatens to wipe out your home, you venture into the forest in search of someone - anyone - who can help end it. When an Elf takes you in after getting injured, you learn that those who live in the forest are not the monsters your village town has made them out to be, but victims.

Series:

Knitting You a Home 🌩💞💋

Book 2 in the Mated Love is Never Easy Universe

Hybrid AU

In-Progress

Overview: With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if Namjoon’s let his past and old fears to come back and haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and to be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Drabbles:

I’m not going to be sympathetic until you see a Doctor 💞

Slice of Life AU

Welcome back. Now fucking help me💞

Slice of Life AU

Short Stories:

Dancing in Europe 💞

Idol AU

Overview: You and Jimin have only recently started dating when he he whisks you of to Europe on his days off, and surprises you with a date to go see a ballet performance.

Mon Amour 💞

College AU

Artist AU

Overview: You were Jimin’s muse. No matter what his materials were, his ideas, he always found you at the center of his latest art piece.

Memories of Old and New 💞

Christmas AU

Established Relationship AU

Slice of Life AU

Overview: It the first Christmas that you’re celebrating with Jimin, but the magical holiday isn’t the same after the unexpected passing of your parents.

Type 2 💞 🌩

10k

Established Relationship AU

Slice of Life AU

Medical Condition

Overview: You were diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in high school and ever since then, you’re been able to manage it without a problem Sticking to a schedule and monitoring your blood was easy. Then came Jimin, and you suddenly you found yourself hiding it all from him. But when your blood sugar drops dangerously low in the middle of the night, Jimin’s the only one who can help you.

Series:

Snapshots of Our Story 💞

Sleep - Sleepless Nights - Pt 3?

Idol AU

Overview: With a once in a lifetime chance of hanging out with BTS for a week, you and Jimin unexpectedly end up growing feelings for each other. These are the snapshots as the two of you try to make it all work out.

Simply Baby Steps 💞 🌩 💋

Book 3 in the Mated Love is Never Easy Universe

Hybrid AU

Overview: TBW

Sneak Peak: “I don’t care if it’s just the two of us for the rest of our lives. I love you, and we’re going to figure this out, together. That’s what it means to have a Mate; supporting and being there for them when everything is going right, and being there when they’re hurting and loving them nonetheless. Because I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

Drabbles:

Tell me that you need me 💋

Vampire AU

I’m not buying IKEA furniture again 💞

Slice of Life AU

Short Stories:

Otherworldly Lovin’ 💋

Alien AU

Overview: Not only did he crash land into your yard, but he also crashed right into your heart...among other places.

Series:

Knowing You 💞 🌩

Late Night Bus Rides - A Missed Stop

Idol AU

Unrequited Love AU

Completed

Overview: You and Taehyung were best friends, feelings grew, and even when he went off to become an Idol, you thought nothing would ever change your friendship. But then life came knocking.

Running Wild 🌩💞💋

Book 5 in the Mated Love is Never Easy Universe

Hybrid AU

Overview: TBW

Sneak Peak: “I’ve always been told that I was runner. So I ran. From everything that was possible to run away from. With you, for the first time all I want to do is stay.”

Drabbles:

I lost our baby 💞

Slice of Life AU

Overview: Jungkook looses more than a game of hide and seek.

The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids 💞

Overview: Jungkook has an unlikely helper when trying to impress you.

Short Stories:

The Coffee Lounge 💞

College AU

Overview: Jungkook has had a crush on you since the semester started, and when he informs you about an essay that you knew nothing about and is due the next morning, he jumps at the chance to help you out with it. What he doesn’t realize, is that you share the same feelings for him.

Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass! 🌩

Idol AU

Overview: All he wanted to do was surprise you, but when he arrives at your place, Jungkook realizes just how much work has interfered with his relationship with you.

One on One 💞

Boxer AU

College AU

Overview: He was a boxer, and you were a student. Two separate lives and yet, you were the one putting him back together.

Consequences 💞 🌩

College AU

Forbidden Love AU

Overview: You had dated one of his best friends - someone Jungkook considered to be an older brother - and even though were single and he never once stopped loving you, dating was an impossible option. The consequences of dating an ex of the leader? Life threatening.

Series:

Mistaken Identity 🌩 💋 💞

Book 6 in the Mated Love is Never Easy Universe

Hybrid AU

Overview: TBW

Sneak Peak: “I got sick of them calling me something that I’m not, that I pushed myself to prove to them who I really am. But without you, I’m right back where I started. Lost and incomplete.”

182 notes · View notes

sxfik · 3 years

Text

cause we're dancing in this world alone (when people are talking)

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: a puzzle with a missing piece and a kite with a fragile string, finding what they need most in their young, shaky lives.

or: ji ho finds understanding through the most uncharacteristic gesture.

a/n: hello hello! this is a little different from what i usually write (bc i usually write solhwi) but i felt a lot of inspiriation for this and yeah i listened to a world alone by lorde when i wrote this. so i feel like listening to that song might enhance your experience (or maybe not, who knows) i left room for more ? maybe i can write more for them but idk, whenever inspiration hits i'll add more. as always, i hope you enjoy this <3

word count: 1281 words

Growing up with a father who managed a toy company, Ji ho grew up with piles of prototypes and failed toy ideas. One would think, wow, that's the dream, but not Ji ho. No, as a kid, his favorite aisle in the store was the puzzle aisle.

Every time they would go shopping, he'd clasp his dad's hand, warm and big in his tiny hands, and drag him across the store. He felt his excitement build as he looked up at the rows upon rows of puzzles, each with a different image, and difficulty level.

He'd get one every single time he went, two if he did well on his exams. As he rode in the back of his father's car, his heart would swell with anticipation of his puzzle, sitting in a bag alongside the groceries. As soon as they arrived home, he'd rush out of his seat, rummaging through the same colored bags until he found his prize.

He'd rush in, running up to his desk in his room until he could unwrap and get started. He'd spend hours of his time, any spare moment from studying or playing outside, to put the puzzle together. He'd start from one corner, fitting together each piece methodically until the picture formed brilliantly and gradually.

He would fit together his life in this same way, each task fitting rigid and neat into his routined life. He'd wake up at 8 everyday, his alarm clock unchanged since elementary school, take a shower, get ready for school, go to school, go to his after school tutoring session, come home, workout, shower, study, eat dinner, sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Despite this, every time he got close to the end, the very end, he'd lose a piece. He'd be so close, get so close, but he's still lost a piece despite his every effort.

And no matter how much he squinted, or covered up that one patch of emptiness, it was impossible to ignore. It stood out to him, the sight almost an eye sore. His mother would always comment, in her sweet, tired voice "Ah, jiho-ah, such a pity you lost the piece." A pity, indeed. The picture would always be incomplete.

He would search everywhere he could, in the playground, in the pockets of his jeans or his school uniform. He'd rip apart his room, he would pull apart his schoolbag, but to no avail. He could never be able to find that one piece.

And as he grew up, graduating middle school and high school at the top of his class, and making it all the way to the best law school in the country, he felt as if he lost a puzzle piece. Something was always missing.

So maybe it was the pressure of his studies or his newly found friendship with his roommate or just absolute insanity that led him to this particular situation. It really was a mystery. More than the situation, however, it was the girl sitting next to him, a plastic water bottle in hand that was definitely not filled with water, that was the real mystery.

The air was humid, almost thick as it wrapped around them as they sat together in the bleachers of the school grounds. A comfortable silence stretched between them as both of them drank, their shoulders relaxed and light. Unlike his time with the guys in the study group, he felt his guard lower with this girl, the rival who had watched him grow just as he'd watched her.

"It's funny," Kang Sol suddenly piped up, startling him slightly. Ji ho turned to look at the woman seated next to him, with questioning eyes.

"What?" he asked, a familiar crinkle in his forehead forming.

"My whole life, I felt like I was holding onto a kite, the string thin and fragile," she paused, taking a sip from the bottle, "Any movement would cause it to break, cause the whole thing to fall apart," she sighed.

"The wind was so strong and unrelenting. Each time I think I can loosen my grip, someone will walk by with scissors or the wind would blow stronger, or there would be a storm coming. I held on so tight, so very tight," she whispered the last few words, her eyes shut tight. Sol was clearly drunk, her words slurred slightly and her voice having a tilt to it that wasn't present when she was sober. "And then all of a sudden, the kite flew away. Despite my every effort to hold on, it still flew away," she finished, staring intently at the plastic bottle that now held half the alcohol it did earlier.

He contemplated responding, scared if he said anything that she'd close up like a clam, before adjusting his glasses. "Was it painful? When it flew away?" he asked after a moment of silence, his voice tentative and unsure of what to ask.

And then, she did the most un-Kang Sol B action ever. She started laughing.

He blinked. In all his years of knowing Sol B, he had never seen her so... euphoric. She was laughing, her shoulders shaking with delight, her eyes crinkled. He couldn't help but watch her, wide eyed as he saw her face devoid of the calm, coldness it usually held. It held mirth, warmth, as she grinned and he couldn't look away. She looked so girlish, so unlike herself. Unlike anything he'd ever known her to be.

"No," she finally shook her head, the smile stretched across her face, "It was freeing. I didn't feel so... tethered, anymore. It's the most bliss i'd ever felt," she breathed out, her lips still curved slightly as a gentle breeze blew back her hair.

As she finished, she finally, finally, turned to meet his gaze, still wide eyed. Her eyes were calculating, as she looked at him, her head tilted as if he was the mystery that she was trying to solve.

As if she wasn't the true mystery. He still remembered the first time he'd met her, in his math class. She was the same as she was back then, her hair short with bangs framing her face. She was always stone faced, always calculating as if she was preemptively preparing for battle.

Kang Sol refused to speak to her classmates, her head held high and her gaze held firm. She was matter of fact in everything, and just like him, followed a natural routine. So despite them competing for the top rank, he'd respected her.

On their very last day, she had approached him first, her gaze still held above him. He was met with an outstretched hand, and he met that hand shaking and confused. And wordlessly, she had returned to her seat as if the moment never happened.

For years, it had confused him, why she did that. Why was she the first to reach out? Why didn't she say anything? Why did she shake my hand? Why me?

Watching her, drunk and filled with mirth, it clicked into place. Understanding. It was always understanding that had linked them together, despite both of them being avid rivals. Even though she had so many things he did not, she was a mirror image of him. In her oddest moment, he understood her, in a way that no one else could. Looking at her, observing the woman who had held onto a kite that was always meant to fly away, he understood her.

He smiled slightly, looking down at his bottle, before taking a sip. It's true, the realization dawned on him. You'll always find what you're looking for the most in life when you're not looking at all.

#sorry if this isn't my usual solhwi content #its a little bit more angsty that i usually publish but #i wrote this more as therapy than anything LMAO I'll get to my scheduled solhwi content as soon as i can #mine #jtbc law school #law school jtbc #law school #law school kdrama #law school netflix #jisolb #seo ji ho #kang sol b #mentions of solhwi #lee david #lee sookyung

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mooniefics · 3 years

Text

just one night

pairing : reiner braun / reader

word count : 2.9k

tags : fluff, angst, heartache, acknowledgement of reiner’s suffering </3

summary : being a field nurse had it's ups and downs, but everything about taking care of reiner braun was the best and worst thing about your job.

— originally posted 12 / 16 / 20 on ao3 —

"oh, you're finally awake." you set the tray of medical supplies in your hands down on the small desk beside the bed, shutting the privacy curtain before you returned to his side, "i was worried about you, you know?"

though most of his body had regenerated over the seven hours he'd been unconscious, he was still missing a majority of his right hand up to the wrist, the steaming, incomplete appendage he was now examining with a tired look on his face.

"what time did they bring me in?" his voice was husky with sleep, eyes low as they flitted over to look at you.

"around eighteen hundred hours yesterday," you said, placing the back of your hand on his forehead to check his temperature, "i administered some pain meds a few hours ago, but let me know if you need any more."

being a field nurse for the marleyan army wasn't the easiest job in the world, mostly consisting of lots of running around in the trenches with your heavy kit and avoiding as much gunfire and blood splatter as you possibly could while still helping the wounded. you had volunteered to work soon after the conflict with the mid-east allied forces had begun, seeing as it was either that or see your father be drafted out into the eldian unit to become cannon fodder like so many of the soldiers you'd seen barely able to crawl their way back over the sandbags just to bleed out and die before you could even begin to assess their injuries. you stopped keeping count of how many people you couldn't save after your first few days of active combat, becoming more focused on not going insane from how little you slept due to the rumbling of the ground from enemy artillery that shook the walls of the underground quarters and reading the letters your family sent from back home to maintain a shred of morale for the future.

though, the job did have some perks. it was always honorable for eldian families to have someone enlisted, and it also meant you could support your parents with your minuscule paycheck from the government. and, of course, meeting reiner braun was the biggest plus of them all, though you probably wouldn't admit it if anybody asked. you were a hard worker, and evidently had enough natural skill to quickly be promoted to the position that you were at now, assigned as one of the few nurses who monitored the wellness of the warriors and their prospective candidates.

"my regeneration has been slowing down lately, i should have more of my hand back by now." reiner murmured, more to himself than you.

"of course it has, you haven't been eating as well as you should be. i don't know much about titan biology, but i do know that a soldier like you, a warrior no less, shouldn't live off of sandwiches and beer, you've been losing too much weight."

he chuckled, a quick smile flitting across his face before he returned to his previous sulk. "you sound like my mother, chiding me about how i need to take care of myself. isn't there other patients that need your attention?"

"you wish. me and another nurse have already taken care of this entire hall, and you, mr. celebrity, get a room all to yourself." you grabbed a pen and his chart, scribbling down a few notes about his current status while you spoke, "plus, i'm supposed to be checking up on you every hour until you're all put back together, magath's orders."

he paused, thinking to himself before speaking. "so does that mean galliard is ok?" you nodded.

"and pieck?" you nodded again.

"and zeke?" you sighed, but reaffirmed once more.

"you've been checking up on me all night by the looks of it. aren't you tired?"

"gosh reiner, would it kill you to focus on yourself for a minute?" you rolled your eyes at his confusion, pulling up the chair at the desk to his bedside and seating yourself down, "this is my job, i'm used to doing my job. in fact, this is one of the easiest nights i've had in weeks. i don't know about you, but it shocks me that the guy they blew to pieces yesterday afternoon is asking me if i'm the one that needs to get some rest."

his brow furrowed, mouth drawing into a small frown. "sorry. i know that the war has been hard for all of us. i just don't want to make it any harder for you than it's already been."

you couldn't help but smile at his genuine concern, planting your elbows on your thighs and resting your chin in your hands. "you don't have to worry about bothering me, reiner." you replied softly, playfully adding, "you know you're my favorite patient anyways" just to see his cheeks flush red.

"is that so?" he murmured in reply, now smiling with you as he met your gaze.

"maybe." you teased, leaving him hanging for a few moments before you continued, "galliard's always awkward when i'm in the room, jaeger never has much, if anything, to say, and pieck, she's nice to be around, but she always looks so tired i feel a bit bad when i chat for too long with her. so, if it's anyone i'm stuck on the night shift with, i'm glad it's you."

you laughed softly at his expression, feeling a bit sheepish under his gaze. he'd changed quite a bit over the two years you'd known him, the shadows under his eyes deepening with a clear exhaustion, cheekbones becoming more pronounced and face growing gaunter as the stress of the war withered away at his physical and mental wellbeing. before you personally met, you'd always seen reiner as the physical embodiment of marley's armor, with his sturdy, unyielding frame, towering over nearly everyone he met from his stature, and the iron will that never seemed to falter no matter how many times he returned broken to the barrack's infirmary.

but now, you could see how everything had been taking a toll on him, how he was growing thinner and weaker each time he returned from a successful military assignment. you had come to learn that despite his regenerative properties, he felt every bit of pain that came with the injuries he sustained, experiencing the absolute agony of having his limbs shredded and bones shattered by cannon fire in his titan form and still having to push forward on the battlefield. you had an immense respect for him and his unyielding nature, but you always worried. even though you knew he would always manage to get himself back together again, you always worried for him. you remembered how you felt as you peeked over the sandbags, watching with a mixture of awe and dread as reiner threw himself in front of jaeger at the last moment to shield him from the unexpected volley of naval artillery, the way your heart thundered so loudly in your ears at the sight of his titan crumpling.

the relief you felt upon being ordered to his hospital room and finding him still alive was indescribable, and the relief you felt now being able to talk to him, to stare into his tired eyes and take in his handsome features you'd become so familiar with, flushed softly from your playfully exchanged words— you didn't want to see him go again.

"l-let me go get you a blanket," you said, snapping yourself out of your unnecessary thoughts, "i packed it away since i didn't want the steam to overheat you, but now that its just your hand and ankle i think it'll be ok to let you have it back now."

you quickly got up from your seat and slipped past the privacy curtain, opening up the supply cupboard with sheets and extra clipboards and things of the sort to pull out the blanket you'd originally taken off of him and put away.

you had to control yourself, to stop letting yourself be distracted by these thoughts and concerns about him. you knew as well as anyone else in marley that he didn't have long left to live. you hated that everyone referred to it as his 'term', as if after two years passed he could return home to live a peaceful life away from the war and bloodshed, to enjoy the luxuries of a normal existence that had been snatched away from him from the very start of his life. he only had two years left before he had to be eaten by one of those children, children that had similarly had their innocence and adolescence stolen from them by the marleyan government. you had told yourself over and over to not let yourself get so close to him, to not trick yourself into believing that maybe something could work between the two of you after marley's greed for natural resources had been sated and all the nations were finally at peace.

but you knew better than anyone that these feelings had been growing out of control, and each day you spent tending to him, watching him out on the battlefield, finding more and more about who he truly was besides a soldier only fed the fire you'd been fighting between fueling and snuffing out for months now. taking in a deep breath, you forced a smile onto your face, not wanting to concern him with an upset expression and risk dumping all your pathetic emotions out under his scrutiny.

"here we are." you hummed, flapping out the blanket a few times before you stretched it over his lap.

for a moment your face was close to his, close enough to see the small brown spots freckling his golden irises and realize just how intently he was gazing at you. you quickly retreated back to your seat at his bedside, still feeling his stare lingering on you, stopping yourself from asking him what was interesting enough to make him look at you for so long.

for another moment, there was silence, and you debated on making up some excuse to leave the room, but you knew you would have to come back in an hour, and he most likely wouldn't be asleep by then, but he spoke before you could think up any other escape plans.

"you know, i was happy to wake up and see you." you felt your heart skip, blinking at him, trying to make sure you weren't hearing things.

"really?" you mustered, feeling your cheeks grow warm at the sight of his smile.

"yes, really." he affirmed, the brightness on his face dampening a bit as he continued, "most of the time when i sleep, i get a lot of... memories, from my time in paradis, and they're not the most pleasant things to see while i'm asleep. and i was having another one of those dreams just now before i woke up, so it was nice to not be alone, you know? it's always reassuring to see you."

you felt a light flutter in your chest, nodding in response, torn between feeling sympathy for his nightmares or happiness from honest words. no, you had to stop being selfish. you had to stop letting yourself play along in this fantastical idea of a happy future.

"y-yeah, i understand," you replied, fixing your gaze down in your lap as you tried to avoid his intention, "i could put in a request for sleeping aids, if restlessness is becoming an issue."

"you know that's not what i'm trying to say." his hand reached out to rest over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, imploring you to stop ignoring the obvious.

"reiner." you said firmly, lips pressing into a firm line, "we can't. i can't."

you could feeling that light, airy joy twisting down into something irksome, settling like lead deep in your stomach as he replied. "what's stopping you?"

"everything!" you snapped, stopping yourself to take a deep breath and regain control of your volume before you began again, "everything.. this war, this never-ending conflict, and.. y-your term, your life-"

"you think i don't know that?" he said softly, too softly, somber gaze flitting between the hand in his grasp and your face. he seemed so small just now, seated up against wall behind the hospital bed that was too little for him, barely covered by the thin, old blanket that was fraying at the seams, not at all like the stoic, unwavering warrior he made himself out to be in the public eye. "don't you think i'm tired of pretending? tired of having people toss the topic of my death back and forth like they're discussing vacation plans? i love marley, and i love what i can do for the people who look up to me, for the people who rely on me to be the hero. you never ask me about paradis, you never ask me about how i feel about all of this, you never expect me to be the hero, and you're still always here to listen, always here when i need you to be. but i just want to feel like i don't have to worry about all that, even if it's just for one night... i know it sounds counterintuitive, but i want to pretend like things will be alright.. for you, for me, for everyone. can't we just have this one night?"

your hand trembled, fingers lacing easily with his like you'd risked doing a few times before, tears pricking your eyes, feeling like there was something cinching around your heart and lungs and squeezing tight. the heat of his hand in yours was pleasant, calloused palm fitting perfectly against the contour of your own, thumb stroking softly over the side of your own hand.

you swallowed your apprehension, steadying your breath and blinking away the mistiness threatening to spill down onto your face as you moved from the chair to take a seat on the side of his bed. "ok. one night."

the relief that bloomed across his expression warmed your heart, the stress that had been creasing his face softening back into the relaxed, sleepy looking smile that you always poked fun at when you brought him his breakfast in the morning.

"you have to be up at seven, so lay down right, i don't want you to complain to me about your back hurting tomorrow." he complied, shifting back down in the bed to rest his head back on the pillow, allowing you to let go of his hand momentarily to tuck the blanket around him. "do you want me to go get you something to help you sleep?"

"no." he murmured, gazing up at you, "just stay here with me, please. i'll sleep just fine as long as you're here."

there was something so childlike about his words, not in the way of immaturity or naivety, but something that just made you want to take care of him, to protect him from the corruption of the world outside of the obsolete confinements of his hospital room.

"i will." you said, letting your other hand find the side of his face, "i promise."

and so you stayed, you stayed as long as he needed you to, alternating between stroking his cheek and slowly running your fingers through his hair. there were no words exchanged, but the silence was comforting, the quietest night you'd both had in weeks, only occupied by the intermittent footsteps of the other nurses making their rounds around the hall and the soft evening breeze blowing through the half-open window above the desk. you didn't care for how long you had to sit there, replying back to the small movements of his hands with your own reassuring squeeze as he slowly but surely fell back asleep. but even after his breathing had steadied out, and his grasp on your hand had loosened, you still stayed seated at his bedside, just gazing down at his sleeping face as your thought to yourself.

the war against the mid-east allied forces had come to a rocky close, most likely guaranteeing marley at least a few months of tension-filled peace before another nation made their strike on their borders once again. but you knew that marley wouldn't wait for that, you knew that they wouldn't stop until they had the world in their hands, paradis included. you'd heard the private murmurs of jaeger before you entered his room, seen the open pages of his journal when he fell asleep at his desk, you knew what he had been planning. and you knew that reiner would have to go running back to the island once again, and even if jaeger's grand scheme didn't drag him there by his collar, he would probably go searching out his own resolution him.

you checked your watch. 2:10. it was your turn to check the patients in critical condition down the hall. you sighed quietly, pulling your hand away from his and leaning down to gently press a kiss on his forehead, something you risked doing a few times before when you had these especially long conversations that made your heart ache for him.

but at least, you thought to yourself as you flicked off the lights, reluctantly leaving the room and shutting the door behind you as quietly as you possibly could, at least you could give him just one night of repose.

#reiner braun #reiner braun x you #reiner braun x reader #reiner fluff

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reiraland · 3 years

Text

Eric - Happy (belated) birthday

Finally I finished the fanfic for Eric’s birthday! It took me way more time than I had expected, but better later than never, right? hehe. I planned to write a fic between 500-700 words, but ended up writing 2600+ words. my love for Eric is unquenchable

I’m thristy for more Eric’s content. I wish Beemoov added him in the future events or release a spinoff. Beemoov, just take my money

I would have liked to write also an Eric’s POV, but recently my work schedule is hectic. I might try, but it’ll take a while.

I apologize in advance for any typo or grammar mistake.

Happy Birthday, Eric! (04.26) Shaken off from my slumber by the emanating vibrations from my smartwatch, I lazily opened my eyes. The world was still dark outside. After turning off the alarm, my heart filled up with joy as soon as I laid my eyes on my beloved. By his rhythmic breath, I could tell Eric was still sound asleep. Reaching out my hand, I caressed his disheveled black hair and gently ran my fingers along his jaw as my heart beat firmly with ecstasy.

“God, he’s so attractive…” I murmured to myself.

Nothing could bring me more bliss than staying a few more minutes in our heavenly nest, but today I had an important task. For the past two weeks, I had been mulling over the ideal way to celebrate his birthday. Although I wished we could go on a trip together, he was currently busy with a new case, plus my schedule was tight too; having several auctions planned for the next three months consumed most of my time. In the end, I made a reservation at a trendy, popular restaurant, and since neither of us could take the day off from work and I wouldn’t see him until the closing time of the café, for starters, I decided to surprise him with a special breakfast.

“Come on. No time to waste!”

After slipping out of the bed stealthily, I hurriedly took a shower and got dressed as quick as a flash. When my phone buzzed twice, I went outside, racing down the stairs all the way out to the street where Hyun was waiting for me with a small box in his hands.

“Thank you very much for delivering it so early in the morning and especially for putting up with me for the last week! I am aware I have been fussy about the flavour… verging on nitpicking.” I said apologetically.

“Please, don’t mention it. What are friends for? Also, you’re one of my favourite customers, I can’t let you down,” he responded with a smile, “and don’t concern yourself about the flavour anymore, I’m positive Eric will be delighted. I’ll be looking forward to your feedback.” He added cordially before waving goodbye.

Back at the apartment, I heard the shower water running, and immediately got anxious. I had less time than originally planned.

“I hope I can wrap everything up just on time,” I sighed nervously.

I conscientiously got down to work with the breakfast preparations. While brewing a new type of coffee I had specifically ordered from one of Cosy Bear Café’s suppliers, I set the table and sliced the cake into equal pieces. I clasped both of my hands together happily after getting everything ready. The fragrance of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air reassured me since it reminded me so much of Eric’s embrace.

The sound of footsteps brought me back to reality. Eric was leaning against the door frame, gazing groggily at me with his golden eyes. As he covered his mouth with one hand to hide a yawn, he put his wet hair back with the other one. The mere sight of him took my breath away.

“Morning…” His voice was still low and rough.

“Good morning! Just in time! Breakfast is ready! Summoned by the coffee’s scent, right?” I asked jokingly.

Eric’s eyes twinkled with amusement. He walked over to me, leaning down on my face until his lips found mine. A pleasant feeling unfurled in my stomach as I kissed him back with adoration.

“What can I say? A great day starts with a cup of coffee...” he trailed off suddenly, “but you know what?” He enquired conspiratorially, giving me a playful smirk.

“What?” I whispered back mischievously.

“A day without you is always incomplete, nothing could fill the void of your absence”.

“Not even the finest coffee?” I attempted to wear a blank expression, but my tone gave me away.

The corner of his mouth quirked up before shaking his head in denial, staring deeply into my eyes as he replied with more amorous words. My heart began to pound like a drum and I was certain my cheeks were blushing furiously as if to mirror his flushed face.

“Definitely, you are turning into more and more a romantic every day… a hopeless romantic like myself … I’m absolutely in love with you.” I stated softly, swallowing down the emotion that comes with my words, suppressing tears of happiness that threatened to fall down from the corner of my eye.

A few seconds later, Eric held me in his strong arms and rested his forehead against mine, letting out a contented sigh when I hugged him back. Lost in each other's eyes, time seemed to have slowed down. The closeness between us felt so natural, like it was meant to be. However, reluctantly, I pulled myself away from his warmth, he raised an eyebrow in response.

“If we don’t hurry up, coffee will get cold and we won’t be able to have breakfast without rushing” I explained. “Today’s menu is a bit particular. Sir, I hope you find it to your liking. By the way, Happy Birthday!” I spoke teasingly.

Eric’s eyes showed a hint of surprise for a brief moment, then he grinned from ear to ear, while squeezing my fingers gently. I summarized quickly about the coffee and the cake, he listened to me attentively as always. I watched him restlessly, as he brought the mug to his lips and tasted the pastry. Relief washed all over me after he nodded approvingly, flashing an encouraging smile. That peaceful moment was engraved in our memory, it might have been just an ordinary breakfast for others, but for us, it meant a great deal. When we finished eating, we cleared the table and as I was about to wash the dishes, he stopped me with a hand up.

“You prepared breakfast, it’s only fair I’ll do the dishes.” He said warmly, not letting me a chance to protest.

At first, I just observed him while he was focused on the task at hand, but then, I tiptoed closer and circled my arms around him from behind, burying my head in his back. Inhaling deeply, his scent infused my soul with tranquility and comfort.

As soon I noticed Eric was done with the chore, I took a step away from him. At the same, Eric turned around, and without a warning, lifted me up, slowly spinning me around until we reached the living room. He tenderly laid me down onto the couch as we locked eyes. He looked extremely amused, just like a child plotting mischief. The next thing I knew is he relentlessly tickled my ribs as I burst into giggles. The sound of our laughter echoed through the room.

I wanted that moment to last forever, but duty called. As his silver watch catched my eye, I furrowed my brows.

“Eric, we need to start moving now… I don’t feel like leaving, but look at time…”, I pouted.

“Time really flies when we are together, right? You know… we can stay a bit longer, if you will.”

“But If we don’t leave now, we’ll be stuck in a traffic jam and neither of us will be on time for work”.

“If we turn the siren on, a traffic jam won’t be an obstacle.” He pointed at, letting out a small, low chuckle. I couldn’t refrain myself from tittering at his statement.

“The siren is only for special occasions. If we used it regularly, you might get caught by one of your fellow police officers. And then what?” I dismissed his suggestion with a playful tone.

“You promised to visit me in prison, wouldn’t you honor your vow?” He replied in the same way.

“Needless to say, I would. However, I’d rather have you with me every day. I think you’ll agree with me.”

“I can’t argue with your reasoning.”

He made as if to rise up from the couch, but promptly sank himself back, showering my cheeks, my forehead, my lips and neck with light kisses. I giggled merrily.

“Just one more minute, please.” He pleaded in between kisses.

I silently agreed, enjoying every second of the sweetness of his love.

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

For the rest of the day I was in high spirits, despite being a busy one. I had a meeting with a supplier and had lunch with Yael to address some remaining minor issues regarding our upcoming exhibition. I also passed by Leight’s shop to pick up my outfit for that night. I had purchased it last week, but Leigh had insisted on adding a few details on the sleeves.

Eric arrived at the café past the closing time. After greeting me with a kiss and complimented my dress, he started to carry the tables and chairs from the terrace to inside the café, while we had our usual conversations.

“How was your day? Complicated?”

“Kind of, but now that business is successful, I refuse to complain about having a pile of work. When I remember last year … I was about to be forced to shut down the Cosy Bear.” I shuddered in cold sweat.

Eric put a hand on my shoulder and affectionately kissed my temple as I closed my eyes, indulging myself with his display of tenderness.

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

As soon as we stepped into the restaurant, the waiter greeted us politely and led us to our table.

“This place is highly recommended, not only for its tasteful dishes and its amazing presentations, but also because of reasonably priced food. I must add, I find the decor magnificent.” I said, offering him a smile and he did the same in return.

“I was just flipping through a magazine when I spotted a review about this place. They’re usually overbooked, but Yael happens to know the manager, so I was able to get a reservation for tonight.” I commented joyfully.

“This is my best birthday since I was a child. I’m grateful to you for putting so much thought and effort, I know you did.” He remarked knowingly.

“You seriously need to stop playing the mentalist card.” I sighed in defeat. “I did research trendy restaurants, it took me a while to find a few of my liking. Yael’s help did come in handy for getting a reserve here, though.”

“You are adorable. I love you.” He murmured tenderly.

Soon enough, our meal was brought to the table. Before I knew it, Eric had already emptied his plate. He looked away sheepishly, it was so cute that I found myself smiling widely.

“It was thoughtless of me...” he attempted to sputter an excuse.

“The way you gobbled up all that food, one would think you haven’t eaten for days.” I remarked pretending to sound casual, then I winked at him. He let out a throaty laugh in response.

“Today it was hectic at work. Showing the new recruits the ropes was more strenuous than usual. Moreover, the investigation about you-know-what case is no longer stuck. I wish I could give you more details... Well, the fact is we made quite considerable progress. And in the end, I barely had time for lunch.”

“You mean you skipped lunch, don’t you?” I pointed out with concern.

“It’s not like I was on an empty stomach... I had a snack-” he stammered.

“Eric…” I cut him off in a flat tone.

His face shadowed while he looked sideways, scratching the back of his head.

“Eric, I need you to take care of yourself properly. Just going to the gym regularly won’t keep you healthy. Skipping meals is a bad idea, a terrible one, in fact. Don’t underestimate its negative effects. Eric, I want to stay with you until we're grey and old. So, please, promise me you will be more careful in the future.”

“Umm… sure… right… I mean, I’ll try to avoid skipping meals… umm…” He responded to me, almost stuttering.

His face turned as red as a beetroot. It took me a moment to realize why.

“It did sound like a proposal, didn’t it?” I thought bashfully, finger tapping on the table.

Eric reached his hand over the table to touch mine while he spoke to me, while looking into my eyes.

“I don't see myself living without you either. I swear to you I won’t lose sight of the most important.” He swallowed, and continued, “I’ve been doing some thinking. How about going on a trip the following weekend after the last auction is planned for the last week of June? How does that sound? I bumped into Yael a few days ago and had a little chat about an opening in your schedule. I thought it’d be a good idea to set the trip for that date as you’d be less packed with work. You’ll definitely need a break, it will do you good.”

“But what about your work? What if--?”

“I had a conversation with the chief to let him know in advance that weekend I would be out of the radar. He was quite understandable. Well, you haven’t given me an answer yet.”

“Haven’t you already guessed it? I thought body language was your thing.” I tried to sound teasing, but I just ended up giggling.

The grip of his hand slightly tightened on mine, before he leaned over to kiss the back of my hand. I got up from my seat and ran to hug him without letting go of his hand. That drew the attention of other customers, but even if I felt sheepish, I focused on Eric.

“I'll take that as a "yes", then”. He hummed jovially, “we just need to decide where we want to go.”

For a moment I was a little taken aback because I had just assumed he had already decided on his own, but Eric wasn’t that kind of partner. He always treasured my opinions. His thoughtfulness was like those peaceful waves on the ocean, as soothing as calming.

“Planning the trip together will be twice the fun.” He affirmed.

I agreed with a nod, my smile didn’t leave my face for the rest of the evening.

After having a great dinner, we headed back to our apartment.

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

[The following scene is kind of steamy. Just warning!]

The moment we reached the bedroom, we practically collapsed onto the bed. Entirely eager for one another, impatiently getting rid of our clothes as if they were on fire. We lost ourselves in waves of ecstasy, forgetting the entire world. His hands slid down my body, claiming every part of me with his touch, making their way to my most sensitive spots. I didn’t even bother trying to suppress my moans. I didn’t remain passive either, I devoured him with reverent hunger. As growls of desire escaped his lips, I felt proudly satisfied.

Breathless from the intensity poured out between our lips, still unwilling to release the other one, not even for a second.

When both of us came together, flames of heated fervor clenched inside me. Caught up in the rhythm of his body against mine, relishing that sensation while I realized every one of his movements matched mine, we were in complete sync.

“I can’t get enough of you.” His voice, ragged with lust.

I couldn’t even manage a reply, I just dug my nails into his back, pulling him closer, feverishly urging him to continue.

Finally, glistened with sweat and gasping for air, we collapsed into each other's arms, both exhausted but elated. Snuggled together, in no time we surrendered to the realm of dreams.

My last thoughts before dozing off were dedicated to the wonderful man next to me. Eric had shown me such deep, earnest love that swept over me, marking a before and after in my life. What could possibly be better than that?

#my candy love eric #mcl eric #my candy love #amour sucre #beemoov

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frodos-bizarre-adventure · 3 years

Text

@gingerreggg welp part 3 is up (part 1) (part 2)

Heads Up- Part 3 (Joseph x Bust Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Joseph!" said Suzi in her gentle, merry voice. "I've come to visit!"

Inside the house, Joseph began to panic. "Caesar! I can't let her see you! She'll freak out!"

"What?" Caesar asked, looking up at Joseph. "Who's Suzi?"

"My old classmate from the art school, she can't see a living, talking clay bust like you! I need to hide you somehow!" Joseph's frantic eyes darted around for something to cover Caesar with, until they fell upon an empty cardboard box on a shelf by the living room.

"I hope you don't need to breathe, Caesarino!" he said, putting the box over Caesar, who sat on the floor of the living room.

"Well I have no lungs, you said--" complained Caesar before the box completely covered him. He complained in muffled screams from inside the box.

"Now be very quiet!" Joseph scolded. "Act like a perfectly normal, inanimate clay sculpture and everything will be fine!" With an irate grumble Caesar begrudgingly complied and soon all was quiet.

"Jojo? Is everything alright in there?" Suzi called from outside, knocking again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Joseph called out, glancing back one more time to make sure Caesar hadn't budged, before he grabbed the door with shaky hands and opened the latch, to reveal a radiant and cheerful face crowned with blonde locks on the opposite side of the door.

"Jojo!" she beamed, sunny as ever. "It's been a long time!" Before Joseph could stop her, she came waltzing right into the house and began to look around as if she was in a museum. Typical Suzi, Joseph thought to himself, a clever and capable young lady but at times a bit of a ditz.

"I've heard that you'd moved into a new apartment in town for your final year in art school!" she said. "And you've got a nice little place too to do your work!"

"Well, it's not much, but I suppose it'll do," Joseph sighed uneasily. "I've just been so busy for my senior project--" Joseph's eyes shot a glance to the box covering Caesar. "--before I graduate and hopefully start my career! I just though a pad of my own would be good for my, uh...creative touch."

Suzi skipped around the room, marveling at all of Joseph's art on display-- sculptures, figurines, models, paintings-- that Joseph had put up on display on his walls and cabinets. She gaped in awe, like a five-year-old at the fair, as she admired all of his work.

"It's all so pretty!" she exclaimed. "I see why you've been so busy for the past two years. I hadn't even heard more of a peep of you all this while."

"I'm sorry, Suzi." Joseph sighed, rubbing his brow. "Sorry I missed out on so much time we could have spent hanging out...It's just been a lifelong aspiration of mine to do the greatest art I can! Art that seems like it could just come to life."

No sooner had those words left his mouth did Joseph suddenly regret his little Freudian slip-- fortunately it seemed Suzi hadn't clued on. She continued looking around the house at every artwork she could see, and as her stay dragged on Joseph grew ever uneasier that their secret would be up.

And so Suzi had gone out of her way and admired every piece in the apartment. Except for one.

"Jojo! What's in the box?" she exclaimed,

Joseph suddenly blocked himself between the box and Suzi. "Er, nothing!"

"You sure?" She asked teasingly. "I know you have a little surprise in there!"

"You've seen everything!" Joseph huffed, his face red and sweating. He tried to keep himself between Suzi and the box as she circled around trying to get a look.

And by a twist of misfortune, Joseph's foot slipped, knocking against the box hardly.

"Ouch!" cried Caesar, muffled.

Joseph smacked himself in the forehead. "Aw shit."

Suzi had heard the voice. "Who said that? It came from inside that box!"

"It's nothing, I promise!" Joseph pleaded, but he knew their little charade was over.

"You've been acting kinda weird lately, Jojo, there's something going on here," she said, her voice quizzical and filled with concern. And before Joseph could stop her, she lifted up the box--and two loud screams filled the air.

"AAAAHHH!" Caesar cried out squinting in the bright living room light, as his cover was lifted away.

"AH!" Suzi exclaimed in a brief, shrill yelp of surprise, as she met eye contact with Caesar. Caesar tried to freeze in place, but it was too late: she had already seen the sculpture moving.

"Joseph! It's gorgeous! It's...moving! How? How did you make this!" she squealed in delight. Joseph glanced up, surprised.

"You're...you're not scared?" the artist asked. "I...I was worried you'd be frightened of uh...of him."

"He's beautiful!" Suzi cried joyfully, reaching her arms out at Caesar. "Let me hold him!"

"NO!" Caesar screamed, and frantically tried to hop away with all his might. But as much as he'd practiced bouncing the whole night, he was, after all, little more than a limbless blob of clay with a human head, and against Suzi with her long legs and grabby arms, he wasn't winning any marathon races.

"Oof! He's heavy!" Suzi groaned as she grabbed Caesar, lifting the bust off the ground and onto the table.

"Don't! Let...let go of me!" Caesar protested, though his struggles consisted of little more than his neck and torso-stump flailing side-to-side like a wagging tail. And soon, to his dismay, he found himself up onto a tabletop again. Unable to jump more than a few inches, there was no getting away this time, and Caesar and Joseph glanced uneasily at one another, resigning themselves to face the consequences.

"Alright, I'm coming clean," sighed an exasperated Joseph. "Ask all the questions you want, as long as you keep it between the two of us."

"Three," corrected Caesar.

"He's alive! And yet...he's made of clay!" Suzi said, as she gently felt Caesar's shoulder. "How is this even possible?"

Joseph and Caesar exchanged glances. "We have no idea," they said in unison.

"Did you make him?" Suzi said, inquisitively sticking her finger into Caesar's ear which prompted a near-missed bite from the annoyed bust. "Oh, those teeth! And those eyes, and lips...he looks so human!"

"Well, I'm not perfect," joked Caesar dryly.

"What's your name?" Suzi asked the living bust excitedly.

"Oh...I'm...I'm Caesar," he replied, bowing his head shyly. "Jojo here gave me that name."

"This is beyond extraordinary," Suzi gasped in wonder. "You've created a living, talking, thinking person out of just clay and paint! Well, not quite a whole one, but still!" Caesar grimaced at the 'whole' comment.

"I wish I could explain it to you, Suzi, but...but I just can't," Joseph pleaded. "Caesar...is...he's my finals art project. He isn't even supposed to be alive! I just found this lump of clay in the attic while trying to find a medium for my grand masterpiece, I worked and painted it for several months, and before I knew it, my project was screaming and yelling and hopping around."

"Like a goddamn Veggietales character," Caesar sarcastically added, prompting a hearty laugh from the two artists. "Now put me back on the floor this instant," he demanded, unamused.

"He is amazing," Suzi said, complying, placing Caesar back down with a little effort. "I still can't believe you made something that looks and acts almost like a real person!"

Caesar's metaphorical heart sank upon hearing her words. "So...I'm not a real person then. I'm just a half-made piece of work after all." Pushing against the floor with his neck, he sadly began to hop away, in his now familiar clumsy, thumping manner.

"Caesar! Wait!" Suzi called out to him, managing to give the distraught figure pause. "I'm sorry, I meant to say you looked almost human, but you're definitely a person all the same, with or without a body. And I think you're quite handsome, for a bust."

Joseph watched as Suzi gently brought down a wall mirror and rested it onto the floor. "Have you seen yourself, Caesar? Look here."

Intrigued, Caesar began thumping over to the mirror, and for the first time since he awoke in Joseph's room, he got to see his reflection.

"That's...that's me?" Caesar gasped, leaning forward to inspect himself. He looked into his own brilliant green eyes, painted an iridescent glossy sheen, at his spiked, blond hair, formed of clay but etched with fine lines that created the illusion of individual strands. He pondered curiously at the strange pink patches on his cheeks, admired his own sculpted face, his chiseled chin, his thick, muscular-looking neck, and his smooth yet detailed collarbone.

And then...nothing. His form ended below in a rounded lump, with only the slightest hint of shoulders and the upper part of a chest. Beneath, there was only a flat pad of clay on which he stood--or sat? or lay?-- upon, painted the same textured fleshy tone as his head and neck were. Gazing over to Joseph and Suzi's reflections, he couldn't help but feel a hint of envy, at the graceful limbs that he lacked.

But at the same time, he couldn't deny that he was beautiful. Incomplete as his body was, he nonetheless felt, as he noticed every tiny detail, Joseph's hard, painstaking work in creating him to the utmost perfection.

And he felt loved.

"Wow," was all that Caesar could say at first, before he managed to gather up his bearings. "I really am a project of passion, ain't I?" he asked. Joseph smiled proudly.

"You're welcome," he said, stooping down to give the bust a gentle pat. "And I'm sorry I made you like this. It must be difficult."

"For now, my mouth is my hand and my neck is my leg," Caesar chuckled. "But I can tell you loved making me. Thank you, Joseph."

Joseph glanced up uneasily at Suzi. "Is it wrong for me to keep him, y'know, just a head? I chose to make a bust to begin with because I couldn't sculpt bodies! It's not my forte! And how long would it take to complete him?"

"Hmmm," Suzi hummed, observing Caesar from all angles. "He seems to be doing fine right now. But if you insist, perhaps I might be of help..."

---------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

#jjba #gingerreggg #hands of life au #bust!caesar #sculptor!joseph #battle tendency #jojo's bizarre adventure #caesar x joseph #caejose #heads up

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miss-choco-chips · 3 years

Text

North star

Core disaster week Day 1: Bart’s Birthday// First kiss

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cassie smiled, sitting down in the picnic blanket. There was so much fucking food- it was awesome.

But not as awesome as being together, all of them. It’d been a while since they managed to meet like this. Kon, particularly, had been hard to pin down and convince to come; but exceptions had to be made on certain days, and Bart’s birthday was the height of special occasions.

Tim, too. She risked a glance at him, stony and silent, and smiled sadly. It truly had been too long.

Sitting each on one end of the blanket, like a flesh and blood compass rose, she smiled again at the unintended philosophy of it all. Bart to the east, bringing the sun into their lives, his energy and warmth a hope for the new day; Kon to the south, lost in memories of the past but a steady, firm ground beneath them; She herself to the west, holding the weight of it all on her shoulders like the sky held the heaviness of sunset; And Tim, sweet, depedable Tim, was undoubtedly their north.

“Cassie? Wonder-honey-baby-dearest girl?”

Snapping out of her reverie, Cassie waved Bart’s concerned face off.

“Don’t worry, just lost in thought. C’mon dude, it’s your day, we can’t start eating until you do!”

A little unsure, Bart sits back on his spot, glancing to his right at Tim. He hesitated a bit, something extremely unusual for a speedster presented with a widely varied menu (Kon and her had flown all over the world picking and choosing his favorites from every possible country- there was a lot).

“He doesn’t mind”, interrupts Kon softly, before anything else can be said.

Taking his word as the gospel it is, Bart’s face broke into the biggest smile and cleaned up his first plate of ‘a little bit of everything’ in less than a blink, already reaching out for more. Without even pausing his chewing, he started babbling out at Tim, who for once didn’t reprimand him on his table manners, nor tried to use a napkin to clean his chocolate-stained cheek. Cassie tried very hard to hide the pang that surprise-attacked her heart.

Desperate for a distraction, she turned to her right, to Conner. He was looking at the other two fondly, a small smile breaking through his face of steel like it was butter.

She remembered back when they were younger, just children, before all the tragedies and the losses; he had smiled easier, then. Wider, unprompted, freely. Giving that handsome smirk like it was candy on halloween.

“It was a good idea to come here”, he acknowledged, once again making her snap out of her head.

“One day, you’ll just accept that all my ideas are good.”

“Do I need to remind you about the deal with the beet demon?”

“That wasn’t that bad.”

“Cassie. We had to eat borsch for every meal. For a month. I don’t think Bart ever forgave you about that.”

They both waited for a second to see if the speedster was about to interject, but he seemed to have missed their conversation, regaling Tim with a tale of his latest training session with Wally.

“Anyway”, Kon coughed, drawing her back to their moment, “it really was. I… I know I wasn’t the easiest person to convince, so..”

“‘The easiest person’? I had to track you down across an entire hemisphere, lasso you like a wild animal and drag you here kicking and screaming. Literally. My bruises have bruises.”

“Anyway, thanks. I… needed to see you all again. I never thought we’d be able to just… sit here and enjoy ourselves, without… you know, all the…”

“Angst?”

“... yeah. How did you even manage to secure us this spot?”

Cassie smiled, leaning back against her arms, enjoying the sun on her face.

“You can thank Tim’s brother for that. I made him promise to make sure no one interrupted us today.”

The other meta snorted.

“It’d be a cold day in hell before I thank Nightwing for anything.”

She winced a bit, but refused to let the implications ruin her good mood. “Come on, you know he’s not my favorite person in the world, but he’s really doing his best to be here for” -a quick glance, Bart still talking his heart out to Tim- “the new Robin. If you can bury the battle axe...he’s not so bad, nowadays.”

Unsure, he shrugged.

“I don’t really care if he discovers the cure to cancer and spends the rest of his life in seclusion as a monk. If I see him on fire and I have a big water bottle, I might help him put it out- after taking a few drinks, first. But that’s as far as I’d be willing to go for him.”

Considering the numerous times Kon had tried to outright attack the older vigilante, Cassie was going to take it.

“How's Jon?” she asked, subject change as unsubtle as a kick to the chest, taking a delicious french pastry between thumb and forefinger and examining it.

He copied her, selecting something brown and salty-looking from the assorted items

“Nothing new. He’s still a better mentor than Supes, though his choice in friends leaves much to be desired. Still, like I told you, I’m… better? I think?”

A pause, as he washed down whatever he ate with a raspberry slushie. Bart’s incessant chatter, once annoying, was now a beautiful background noise. He was just so damn happy, Cassie felt more accomplished even than the time Diana first told her ‘good job’ after a spar. All he’d asked her for his birthday, soft and broken among his tears, had been this; just the four of them, together.

And she’d done her best to make it happen, securing this place and guilting Kon into accepting. She’d done it, and the memory of Bart’s genuine laugh as he told Tim about his last caught villain would -hopefully- be enough to deter the nightmares sure to come with sunfall.

“Anyway, he’s good. What about Donna?”

Cassie let her head fall back between her shoulder blades with a groan, closing her eyes against the glaring midday sun.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I love her to pieces, but honestly? I can see why my mom has so many grey hairs. Diana is lucky she’s perpetually young and perfect and thus doesn’t need to deal with stress lines. If this is what I was like when she trained me, I have a lot to apologize for. Starting, but not limited to, our days in Young Justice. We did so many stupid things back then.”

“So, the Titans are a riot?”

“They are a bad influence, and I hate how they taught Donna to disobey when I tell her to go to safety and let me do the fighting, but honestly, it’s so much like looking at our past, I can’t help but want to wrap them up in a blanket and wish them luck.”

“I wish you luck. This is why I refuse to take a younger hero under my wing. Too much responsibility.”

“You are a weak bitch. Even Bart is mentoring someone. We have to nourish the younger generation, Kon. Think of the children.”

“You are nineteen, stop talking like you just turned seventy.”

“Well, Cissie is retired. It’s not such a stretch.”

“I’ll tell her you said she’s old.”

“Don’t you dare.”

After those first few hiccups, the rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Uncharacteristically restrained of them, no food fight ensued, but even so it was a pretty fun day. They caught up with each other, teased about past exes and questionable fashion choices, and every silent, solemn moment was endured with joined hands and hearts, a united front against the grief.

Bart’s wet eyes shone, filled with gratitude, when he blew the candles. Cassie caught the exact moment on camera, having learnt the value of getting those precious seconds immortalized forever somewhere other than her own mind.

He kept his wish to himself, but it wasn’t really a mystery. Just by the way he glanced at Tim, they could harnett a pretty solid guess.

Heartache was a familiar, almost comforting feeling to her now, but the wave of raw emotion that almost washed her away at Kon’s crystalized eyes and Bart’s trembling hands gave her pause. Cassie looked away from them for just a second, giving herself this moment of weakness, and in the fleeting light of sunset, she could have sworn she saw a familiar face, looking over them from the shadow of a tree, smiling fondly.

But it was missing with her next blink, so she just shook her head to dispel any traces of wistfulness and turned back to her boys.

It was in silence that they picked up their stuff. Super speed would have made it a chore of just a millisecond, but none felt the urge to run away, so they took their time, hands brushing and then clutching while they cleaned up this sacred place they had borrowed for the day.

Cassie really needed to thank Damian for coming through for her on this. As much as she had despised the other vigilante in the past, a leftover feeling from Tim’s own feud with his older brother, she had learned to forgive and forget. It was, she’d come to accept, the only way she could move on.

Basket finally full with the blanket, empty plates and chocolate stained napkins (Kon’s hand had trembled as he cleaned Bart’s cheek in their leader’s stead), they stood together, arms around each other with the birthday boy in the middle. One by one, they said their goodbyes. It hurted a little less than the last time they could manage to do this, perhaps helped by the fact Kon hadn’t stormed off midway this time.

Cassie smiled. It was sad, it was raw, it was heavy. But it wasn’t broken. She-they- weren’t broken. A puzzle with a missing piece was incomplete, not shattered.

The hand not around Bart’s shoulders stretched, as Cassie’s finger traced the poem they had Bruce engrave in Tim’s tombstone.

“He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.”

The kids that had chosen that poem as immortalization of their grief had been drowning in it, she knew. Had needed a way to let the world know “we are not okay, we’ll never be okay again”. It was, maybe, what saved them back then.

But she wished she could crouch down in front of those lost, overwhelmed kids and tell them ‘you never stop missing him, but you learn to be happy again; and he brings you all together, just like the first time’.

So Cassandra Sandsmark, former Wonder Girl (now something more), lets her head fall back, looks at the setting sun and smiles. Because she can. Because she’s alive, and she’s gonna fucking smile for him, if its the last thing that she does.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The shadows of the coming night hide him, embrace him, want to keep him; he puts a stop to that, let’s himself be kept from wandering eyes but avoids the eternal retaking. He’s seen that side of the road and is under no hurry to visit it again.

Instead, he watches the young heroes, bathed in light and laughter, sitting around a dead bird’s grave.

He yearns. He wants, more than anything, to go to them. To join them in the warmth, in happiness. To go back to the only home that never felt anything else than welcoming.

But he has work to do; there’s a new Robin in the streets, and he needs to ensure that what happened to him doesn’t happen to this frail, rough around the edges and full of life bird.

He waits until they pick up and leave, before donning his suit and walking in the opposite direction. Hopefully, a time will soon come when he can smile with them again.

But, for now, the Red Hood has a clown to hunt and a criminal underbelly to conquer.

#my writting #tim drake #kon el kent #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #core disaster week #core four #day 1 #Bart's birthday #angst #hurt comfort #kinda #don't yell at me #I'm sorry I didn't edit this #I'm in Sk8 the Infinity hell right now #no thoughts head empty only Renga from Sk8

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