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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

I WOKE UP JUST IN TIME AAAAA

Can I request the tall boys (Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya + anyone else you think you wanna add or change (except maybe Childe because I love him)) reacting to you having animal-like features (like ears and tail)

What they would do if by some accident they themselves end up getting animal features (like fox ears and tail for Childe, cat ears and tail for Kaeya or Diluc, dragon features for Zhongli, etc) do they become clingy and display cat behavior of rubbing themselves on you? Something like that aaaa I'm so sorry if this doesn't make sense it's my first time requesting

experiments gone wrong

(eehe these men *cough* zhongli *cough* will be the death of me)

Warning -> sfw, fluff (kissing, character suddenly acquiring animal like features)

Character X GN Reader | anthology

Includes: Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli

As an alchemist, you really should have remembered the most important rule -> don’t leave unmarked bottles out where people can drink them …

So you couldn’t be too surprised by the turn of events that followed

Childe

He went to bed earlier than normal, but you didn’t think anything of it. Perhaps he had a terrible day and just wanted to sleep it off, there wasn’t any reason to pester him about it anyway.

The next morning, you felt him slip out of bed, a yawn falling from his mouth as he made his way toward the bathroom. Turning, you claimed more of the bed and attempted to sleep just a little bit longer. That was until you heard a wild cry and shot up in an instant. You were already partially out of the bed when Childe burst into the room.

He looked at you, you looked at him, and as your eyes drifted from his ears to his tail, you understood his reaction.

“WHAT?” He shouted into the bedroom.

Oh archons, to see him like this … you wished it was easier for you not to think about how adorable he was, but it was impossible. The soft ears that peeked from underneath his hair, the fluffy tail that didn’t know how to stop moving, and the frantic face he gave you were all just perfect

“What happened??” He asked, running back to the mirror before returning his attention to you. Quickly, you made your way to his aid and did your best to calm him.

“I’m not sure, did you do anything strange yesterday?” You pulled his face toward you, cupping your hands against his cheek and running your fingers through his hair.

“Not that I know of … uh, oh! I found this …” He reached for a small bottle on the bathroom counter and handed it to you. Shit.

“Did you drink this??”

“ … yes.”

“CHILDE!” You burst into laughter, knowing it wasn’t the right time but also unable to control yourself. His expression was distressed and worried and, as best as you could, you tried to bring yourself back to calm. “This wasn’t supposed to be consumed …”

“A-am I going to die?”

“No, you’re just going to be, well, this it seems.”

“How long??”

“I don’t know, a few days maybe.” He dropped his head into his hands, his ears drooped and his active tail dropped toward the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you offered him reassurance while trying not to laugh. “You’re very cute though.”

You caught sight of his tail moving slowly back and forth and added more pressure to your hug.

He found that it wasn’t as bad as he thought, in addition to the extra features, he also was able to gain other advantages - his eyesight was much better in the dark, his sense of smell more keen, his agility top notch

You were sure he had grown attached to them in the short time he had them - so when the option came for him to revert, you were sure it would be a tough decision

Still - to keep him trapped like this, with features that weren’t his own - you didn’t want to be cruel

“Here,” You put the bottle down in front of him. His ears perking up at the item and his fingers reaching to grab it. “All you have to do is drink that and everything should go back to normal.” You said with a slightly wistful tone to your voice. It was somehow sad to think these adorable additions leave would be gone soon.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“I’m not sure. We will just try again if it doesn’t though.” Quickly, he took the cork from the lid and moved the vial to his lips. His ear twitched as he smelled the concoction. “I’ll miss this.” Resting your head in your hands you watched as he downed the liquid in one go.

“It’s hard for people to take me seriously like this …”

“Did people take you seriously before?” You joked, winking at him.

The next morning, he stirred in bed next to you, his hair brushing against your face and making you wake up before you wanted to. As your eyes adjusted, you instantly recognized what you thought was hair was actually ears and the giddiness of your heart jump-started you awake. It didn’t work -- oh no, guess you’d have to keep trying.

Kaeya

Waking up next to Kaeya was your favorite thing. It was an opportunity for you to be close to him, to witness his relaxed expression, and know that in these moments he trusted you over anyone else.

So, when you woke and found him pressed against you, your hands absentmindedly began to run through his hair, over his shoulders, as you meandered your way into the waking world. There was something soft that flicked against your hand, but you pushed it away. It happened again, confused, mouth turning into a scowl and eyes rudely being pried open, you looked down to see what was making you irritated.

You were wide awake when you saw the cat ears sticking out from Kaeya’s blue hair. They were richly shaded, deep blues with tips of white and perfectly placed on his head. Shifting, you tried to get a better view and the action made him stir.

“Mmm, stop moving.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady. Tapping his arm, you tried to get his attention.

“K-Kaeya …”

“What is it?”

“Do you feel okay?” You asked, your voice shaking and hands hovering over his ears.

“I feel perfectly fine, why do you ask?” He kissed your chest before nuzzling back into his place.

“You … you’ve got cat ears.”

He laughed and pushed your comment away. His legs moved under the sheets and you swore you saw something poke out from the bed. “You’re pulling my leg, I didn’t know you could be this funny so early in the morning.”

“I’m not, see.” Stealing his hand you placed it on his head and watched as his fingers ran over the ears which were sticking straight up. When his eyes shot open and his hand began to move faster, pulling, tugging, examining the feature, you tried not to laugh as his confused expression turned into a slight panic. He shot up, his legs moving so he could sit on the bed but winced when he did so. That’s when the both of you saw the tail.

“Hold on, let me get ready, just … don’t freak out.”

You rushed around the room to gather up your items, your gaze continuously falling on the incredibly still, unmoving frame that was Kaeya.

After calling on Albedo to come and offer assistance, only to find that the features would be around for a few days … Kaeya started to get more accustomed to them

He was for sure rattled but bounced back rather quickly - in fact, the features seemed to get him even more attention than he had before and he found that the added bonuses were helpful when he needed them for his knightly tasks

Not to mention it seemed he was more affectionate than normal, and not in the way he normally was, it was more in a … cuddly, interested, curious manner

One evening, you found yourself reading over several books that Albedo had recommended and became rudely distracted when Kaeya pushed his way under your arms and nestled into your lap

“Hey there.” You called down to him, hand dropping to his shoulder as he nuzzled against you.

“Give me attention.”

You laughed at his pouting expression, his lips turned downward and ears twisting to show he could be trusted. “I’m currently trying to figure out how to fix this, I can’t do that if I’m giving you all my attention.” His eye squinted for just a moment before he moved more into your lap and nearly pushed the book in your hands onto the floor. “Kaeya!” The playful laughter that filled his ears was as tantalizing as the drinks he let touch his lips.

“You can figure that out later. How can you possibly resist me right now anyway?” He asked, pushing against you until your back pressed into the couch and his hands weaved their way around your body. His hair tickled your face as he nuzzled into your chest and, even though his hips dug into yours, you didn’t seem to mind the closeness he was trying to find.

“Okay. Fine, I’ll look into it more later.”

“What excellent news.” He practically purred as he slid his way to your neck and let his body rest against you.

Zhongli

It’s been so long since he saw himself with such features - and, to be honest, he didn’t notice them for some time. It wasn’t until you returned and the items in your hands fell to the floor upon seeing him that his attention was captured

“Zh - Zhongli!?” You babbled, making your way to him and not knowing what to rest your eyes on first. Was it the pair of elegantly shaped horns that sprouted between his brown locks of hair? Was it the golden slits in his eyes that reminded you of the reptiles roaming around the rocky paths of Liyue? Or did you look at the scales that decorated his face in such perfect placement?

“Has something transpired?” His expression was one of concern, but also one of disillusionment. Did - did he not notice?

“Are you feeling nostalgic today?”

“Not particularly, what makes you ask?”

“Well … you look kinda like … I mean hold on.” You quickly disappeared down the hallway before returning with a small handheld mirror, one that Zhongli had purchased for you some time ago. Handing it to him, you waited until it started to register on his face the changes to his appearance, and that’s when you noticed the long claws which jutted out from his nail beds.

“Huh, this is peculiar …”

Sitting down across from him, you placed your hands on the table and watched as he examined the reflection of his face. “So you didn’t do this?”

“I must say that I did not, though It is rather pleasant to see …” His voice trailed off and you watched as he fussed with his hair, touched the horns on his head, and opened his mouth to check and see if - yup, he had canines much like a dragon too. That’s when it hit you.

“Did you … drink anything strange?”

The mirror found its place upside down on the table, his glowing eyes shifted to you as he took in your question. You let him think and finally, he gave you his answer. “I do recall there was a strange vial on the counter when I awoke. Ah - my dear, are you unwell?” He asked as your head dropped onto the table.

The strangest thing about Zhongli holding these features was that he seemed … perfect for them and it was becoming quite the problem to hide

You were much too cautious that someone may discover who he really was with these pretty telling additions to his wardrobe, so you asked him to stay home for a while until you could get some answers

He didn’t seem to mind, and when you were finally able to gather up all the items needed to prepare an antidote for his condition, you were finding it very distracting to make the concoction at home

The bubbling liquid warned you it was much too hot and so, with adept fingers, you turned the nobs and burners down so as to not overheat or scald the liquid inside. The aroma that filled your nose was … unpleasant to say the least, and so you finally succumbed to the need to wrap your nose in a clean cloth.

Turning your back to the equipment, you made your way toward the drawer where the rags were kept but when your eyes caught sight of Zhongli standing by the window, you nearly fainted.

He was wearing a robe, the material had slid down one of his arms and rested in the crook of his elbow. It gave you pause and allowed you to see the toned torso which was normally hidden by the layers of clothing he wore on a regular day.

Since he found no need to properly get dressed, he had reserved himself to lounge about in clothes that felt ‘more suitable’ to him, as he explained.

The light from the sun flashed across his chest, laid softly against his face, and illuminated the golden speckles in his hair - you wondered if it was because of the horns, perhaps they were reflecting the light and making him look ethereal in the warmth of the sun. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight as he looked beyond the window, almost as if he was yearning for something far beyond his reach.

“I think I’m nearly done.” You explain, tying the towel around your face and returning, reluctantly, to the concoction behind you.

As you began to spoon out the unnecessary ingredients until you were only left with the pure grade potion, you didn’t notice how he had moved to your side until the small vial was filled.

“Here you -- oh!.” He stood right in front of you. His eyes were dangerous, burning, focused. “I didn’t see … you …” He reached around to the back of your head and skillfully undid the makeshift mask you had created moments ago. When it was off, he took the vial in his hands and placed it onto the counter before returning his attention to you. “Are you … okay?” You asked, tracking the movements of his face as he leaned down toward you.

His lips hovered barely over yours and the closeness of him made your heart flutter. “You are mine, are you not?” His voice rattled your bones from the intensity, it was oppressive and supportive all at the same time.

“Y-yes?”

His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth, “You belong to no one else?”

“No …”

“Good.”

It’s a good thing the instructions never said anything about, ‘consume immediately’ because you were very distracted for some time.

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#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #childe X reader #childe #genshin childe #kayea x reader #kayea #genshin Kayea #Zhongli X reader #zhongli #genshin zhongli

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feyspeaker · 2 years

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Hey so I love your work, I have been lurking a while and I was wondering if you had any headcanons/lore on your vtm OCS? Donatello is my favourite hecata character iv seen and I might be a little bit hyperfixating. Have a great day!

Oh, that means so much to me haha! I do, each one of my VtM characters has ridiculously long lore, but Donatello is my favorite. I hope I don't ruin what you have going on in your mind for him because he is horrible. He is a really horrible villain- I've had some people assume he is a big dumb himbo Chad kind of character but he isn't at all. I build him primarily with the vibe of the original Giovanni sourcebook in mind, which is a real treat to read. Very much badass but violent and dangerous mafia take on the Giovanni. And he is also created with a great deal of Wraith lore because it is one of my favorite TTRPG worlds other than VtM.

Donatello immigrated to the US from Sicily in the 1910's, and was embraced in the 1920's. He was part of a movement of Giovanni to populate the United States, and moved with his nuclear family along with several other Kindred and ghouls. He is a troubled villain with no hope for redemption, let me make that clear. He enjoys his clan bane and feeds from his victims bare fanged. I created him with the sole purpose of seeing how terrible and evil of a vampire I could feasibly create while fitting into a playable character. He is clever, cunning, backstabbing. He flashes his wealth crudely and only does things that please him. Literally allergic to helping others (except for a few moments of weakness...) He is a Siren predator type (in V5, though I prefer his v20 build) and also possesses the Addict flaw- he runs a successful designer drug dealing business and feeds from his "customers" at his luxe parties. He is not fun to play in regular games and I have yet to find a really gritty, villain-focused game to play him in.

He is an EXCELLENT Necromancer, and he possesses dominion over both a Spiriti (Wraith) and Spettri (Spectre). The twist on this is that they are both his late parents. His father was a ghoul who hated Donatello, a Puttanesca who embodies all of that family's bad stereotypes. His mother was a Ghoul turned Kindred while Donatello was still small, and she was from the main branch of the Giovanni family. She was an incredible Necromancer, and was ultimately assassinated due to her husband's incompetence. Donatello murdered his father, and enslaved his Wraith in the Shadowlands. His father's fetter is the set of brass knuckles that Donatello keeps with him (and fights with). Donatello's mother became a Spectre in the Shadowlands as vampires can tend to do in true death, and she is a husk of her former self. She is a vicious, terrifying beast and Donatello keeps her around and uses her little. He is a mama's boy even if it kills him to keep her around as a Spettri. She is not his mother anymore but he can't bring himself to part with her.

Concept art of his father, Donnie:

And Concept sketch of his mother, Marsilia. Her two fetters are her golden rosary and a wooden rocking horse toy that belonged to Donatello when he was little.

Donatello also has a Malkavian girlfriend and a very toxic relationship with her. She was a human who was obsessed with him, stalking him (he didn't know this.) He kind of fell for her in a way while she was human, but his mother's Spettri grew violently jealous of his budding love for another woman and lashed out, nearly killing the woman. He had to ask for a favor from the local Prince (whom he has a decent-ish relationship with) to turn her before she died from her wounds, but as a 'joke' the Prince had her embraced by a Camarilla Malkavian. (Donatello would never risk turning her himself because he is a loyal Giovanni and would never muddy the bloodline himself with outside blood.) It was his one (he thinks) moment of emotional weakness, and now he is tormented by his decision as she descends ever further into madness, and he learned that she was not innocently in love with him, but unhealthily obsessed in a way that has grown exponentially in her Malk delusions.

And there's the cliff notes version lmao! Thank you for asking. ♥ (and below a Donatello in the underpants so you can see his pre-embrace tattoos.) His back is covered from scars due to his long service for the Family which he was a young man, and then when he was a ghoul (freshest scars) On his beck is the scar from his embrace (as Giovanni fangs would leave a nasty wound even on Embrace imo) and he is also littered with other fang scars from when he was used as an emergency blood bag by members of the Family.

Below was my original exploration art of Donatello, but I ultimately scrapped much of this design. I wanted more of a 1920's feel to him, which meant nixing the piercings. I also wanted him to look beefier, like a muscular man in the 20's might look physically as opposed to the below more "model" look. I also wanted to make him more ethnically Sicilian with curlier hair, skintone, etc. I am Sicilian on my father's side and I wanted to make him reflect my own immigrant ancestors from Sicily. He also has, um, a little JoJo's Bizarre Adventure flair to him lol. But I do still like the old Donatello- we wouldn't be where we are not without him. xD

#ask #donatello #my ocs #vtm #giovanni #hecata

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yeahimaloser · 3 years

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Oooo I also got another good request how about a hawks x reader childhood friends they grow up together she took his punishments for him yk they have each other’s back and then in the future a villian attack and she ALMOST dies but no she gets save then hawks realizes he loves her and it’s all fluff at the end eek

Ok so, I literally love this request so much, I have no idea why it took me so long to write, but it's finally done!

Oh my god it took so long.

they/them pronouns used.

8k words! please enjoy!

16+ a bit suggestive at the end.

. . .

You sniffed, a hand wiping across your face as tears stung your eyes.

You had been training with the commission for a while now, almost a month to be exact. And it was so hard. In fact, it felt more like they were specifically targeting you.

You looked over at one of the other kids in the commissions program, Keigo, he seemed to have no problem with this exercise, in fact, you would have thought he was excelling at it.

But you could only sit and watch as his little wings flew past you.

You were only pulled from your family recently, but you knew that Keigo was here longer than you were. You rarely talked to him since your arrival, maybe it was because part of you didn’t want to become friends with anyone, maybe it was a small way of acting out, you didn’t know why, but you didn’t like him. He was just so much better than you.

Ever since you first came here, you’ve felt weak. You felt inferior to Keigo, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to him, watching exciede everyones expectations.

Compared to him, you were nothing but a dull blade.

You look down at your hands, cursing them as if that would do you any good. Your eyes stung again, the dust prickling against your eyelids.

The exercise was not supposed to be a difficult one, in terms of the gruelling training practices that they made you do, this one was pretty easy. All you had to do was get from one point in the commission's training facility, all the way to the other side of said facility. A simple running exercise. Although the floors were littered with traps, making it harder for you to get there, you knew it was supposed to be easy. And yet, for whatever reason, you had such immense difficulty.

Your quirk was mostly made for combat. It was the power they gave you the ability to control metal through your will. And although others might find it useful, you found it so difficult.

The problem was, your power was flashy, and yet not as easy to use as one might think. The metal had to touch you, which means that you have to get a hold of some metal object. And although technically you would be controlling it through your mind (Making it fly through the air at your own will) the object couldn’t be very heavy. Whatever metal object you wanted to use would weaken you. For example, controlling a knife was no problem, but controlling a 20 pound ball of metal was extremely difficult. which made your quirk almost completely useless here. Doing a running exercise, like you were doing now, there is little to nothing you could do with your quirk. The only times that your quirk would actually be useful, was during rescue missions or during an attack with multiple heroes in a big city with a lot of metal that you could touch. But that wasn't the case, and you hated it.

As you sat in the corner, trying desperately not to show your tears, you felt a gust of air as you looked up, only to be met with red wings.

“Are you…Ok?”

You never noticed how pretty his eyes were, the honey color’s made his features look so much softer.

After a few minutes, you realized he was still waiting for you to answer.

And for whatever reason, you felt your whole face becoming hot.

“I’m fine.” You said all too quickly.

He raises a bushy eyebrow at you, his face quizzical. “If you’re sure, but we are partners.”

You rolled your eyes.

You two were never truly partners. In this compound, there was only yourself to be concerned with.

“Stop pitying me, I can help myself.”

He smirked, “You say as if you’re not on the ground as we speak.”

You felt your face heating up again as you sprang to your feet, your eyes quickly narrowed, trying your best to seem composed.

“Why did you come back for me?”

But Keigo just shrugged, “Saw someone in need of help.”

That was the last straw.

You angrily stomped away. Who was he to judge you? Who was he to act like some hero? You knew he was the commission's golden boy, they loved him, he was their best weapon.

And you knew he was bright enough to know that as well. Although he never got any special treatment, you could tell by the way they trained him, how they paid more attention to his abilities and not so much the other’s.

Including you.

You felt something pull at you, something tugging you back.

You turned to see- a feather?

“Hey wait a sec,” Keigo said, “I wanna ask you something.”

Your face hardened, you two should be getting back to training soon, you knew the instructor would most likely yell at the two of you for falling too much behind.

“Ask your question and let's go,” you said, huffing.

“Do you want to be friends?”

The question caught you so off guard, causing you to stumble over a rock in front of you.

You whiped back to him, your eyes widen as you realized he was completely serious.

“Wha- friends? What the hell are you on about? There are no friends here, that's an idiot's dream.”

But Keigo only shrugged, “Well, then I guess I’m an idiot.”

You stared back at him, a look of pure disbelief written on your face.

Was he insane? Having friends here was almost imposible. The commission made sure of that, pitting you two against eachother, comparing you to one another, they made it so you would fight amongst yourselves.

“Why would you want to be friends with me?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

But he just shrugged, “Because I'm curious about you, and that crousity makes me want to befriend you.”

You stilled, thinking and thinking till your brain hurts.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything right now, I know I probably caught you off guard, and if you don’t want to, I understand… I think-I think I’m just lonely.”

You pursed your lips, still thinking it over in your mind before you grabbed his hand.

“Look, I’ll think about it, but first, let's get this race over with.”

Keigo smiled, blushing a bit as you two took off, hoping you two would becoming good friends.

. . .

And as time went on, you two did, in fact, become the best of friends.

By the time you were both teens, you and Keigo (or Hawks as his hero name) became the commissions pride and joy.

Although you were always so surprised that they didn’t want to through you out, Keigo was so much better than you, and you had fallen much behind him.

Keigo was faster, smarter and stronger, you knew that, you knew that all to well.

But, the commission never removed you, you continued to train to become a hero, right besides Keigo. A part of you wondered if maybe you were only kept on because of Keigo, maybe the commission saw how close you two were, watching how much you mattered to him, and maybe they thought they could use you to their advantage.

The thought made you shiver, mostly due to the fact that it wasn’t impossible, and more than likely.

One night, as you and Keigo lay under the stars on the roof of the commission's building, watching the night sky above.

Suddenly, Hawks turned to you, “Hey Y/N,” he said, “can I ask you something?”

You nodded your head, feeling your heart flutter.

“Do you....do you want to become a hero with me?”

You smiled, “Isn't that the whole reason we’re here? To become heroes?”

But Keigo just shook his head, “No I mean...what do you want to do? With your life?”

You took a pause, you’ve never really thought about it all that much. What did you want to do with your life? You’ve always just done what others have told you to do, always choosing to follow others rather than yourself.

You realized you had never thought about it before, never taking into consideration your feelings, you just worked to survive.

“...I don’t know.”

You hated saying it, it felt like such a childish thing to admit, especially with Keigo. Keigo, who’s figured out his life goal already. Keigo, who’s living out his dream. Keigo, who has most of his life planned out.

“I mean- I guess I’m not used to choosing for myself, you know? I’m not sure how to go about… figuring out my life without someone telling me how to live it first.”

But Keigo just nodded, “No, that makes sense, I mean, you’ve lived here most of your life, you’ve worked to become a hero, but that's really only because you were taught to be one. It’s ok to not know what you want out of life, and don’t worry, I’ll be here to support you, Y/N.”

Keigo turned to you, a smile plastered on his face.

That beautiful, amazing, breathtaking smile.

You felt your face become flushed, and you sat up quickly so as to not have Keigo notice.

“Yeah well- thanks,” you said softly.

But Keigo just laughed, “Don’t worry about it dove.”

. . .

Years later, and Hawks had become the number two pro hero. And you hadn’t done too badly yourself, coming in at the number eleventh spot.

You didn’t mind being behind Hawks, in fact, you found yourself becoming a bit proud of yourself because of how far you had made it.

Right now, you were busy on portal, watching citizens go about their day on a rooftop above.

You watched closely, wondering what kind of life you could have been living if you had never chosen to be a hero, wondering if you too, would have been walking on that very same street as some other hero observed you from afar.

Somedays you found yourself wondering if the hero commission hadn’t taken you away, had let you lived your life for yourself, what would you do? Who would you become?

You wondered if you would have met Keigo as well, or if that would only work if you had been with the hero commission.

Maybe in that universe, you two could finally be together.

It happened a while ago, when you figured out your true feelings for Hawks. Although, maybe you always had feelings for him, since you were little kids. But, you had feelings for him had began to bubble over, you found yourself wanting to spend more time with him, wanted to keep him to yourself. But you would never act on these feelings, you knew better.

Keigo Takami would never be yours, not in a million years.

You let out a sigh, just as you heard boots hit the ground behind you.

“Miss me,” a familiar voice asked.

Even though you had known Hawks since you two were kids, you were always caught off guard by those dazzling eyes, the honey gold color swirling around as he stared down at you, pinning you to your spot on the roof.

You smiled, “Hawks, I just saw you.”

He shrugged, “So? I still missed you in that time.”

You rolled your eyes, “Did you come here to bother me or do you actually have a reason to be here?”

His hands flew to his chest, dramatically saying, “Oh angel, how you wound my poor heart.”

You giggled, “Aw Hawks, always the flare for the dramatic.”

He smiled, but then his eyes got serious, “But I do need your help with something, a mission not too far from here.”

Watching Hawks in action was like watching an artist at work, he was careful, skillful, even downright majestic. He took care in his work, he worked quickly and efficiently, like a well-oiled machine.

And, not to sound too cocky, you two made a pretty good team. And considering you two were very close friends, you vehemently enjoyed working with him.

Although, maybe it was cuz you also had a little bit of a crush on him.

Your face felt flushed at the thought, but before you could think your mouth had already said yes.

“Oh? Are you just agreeing so you can spend time with me, little dove,” Hawks smiled teasingly.

He had a habit of doing this, it was a little game he would play on you. teasing was so fun for him, but he didn’t realize how it gave you such butterflies.

Luckily though, although you did have feelings for him, you learned how to push them away for situations like this.

You scoffed, “Hawks, would you just give me the rundown. Or do I have to call the commission myself?”

He put his hands up, “Wow there chicky, no need to get antsy, I’ll explain everything, ok?”

He told you about the mission, nothing to fancy, in fact, it was quite easy.

Some of his sidekicks had noticed some suspicious activity near a specific location near U.A that the commission wanted to be checked out. They had said that they didn’t want another attack to happen yet again to the school.

On the outside, it might have seemed like the commission gave a shit about the kids in U.A, but you knew better. They just wanted to look good, and right now, this was the best way to do that.

“So basically, if we do see any suspicious activity, we’re allowed to bring anyone in there for questioning, and if worst comes to worst, we have orders to use force.”

You nodded, sounded just like a normal mission for the two of you, should be no p.

“Alright,” you said, “Sounds easy enough. Should we head over now? How will I get there?”

But Hawks seemed to be one step ahead of you.

He held out his hand, a smirk plastered on his dazzling face, “Just hold on to me, sweetheart.”

. . .

You’ve flown with Hawks before, considering how close you two were it was understandable that he would have offered a number of times.

But still, it Always made you so giddy.

The way he held you, so secure in his arms, his face inches away from you. And that gleam in his eyes, it always felt like it was only you and him in that moment, only you two in the entire sky. And each time, it made your heart shudder.

“You ok there, dove,” Hawks asked in your ear.

You jumped a little, surprised by his words. You realized you had begun spacing out while looking directly at him.

You composed yourself, “Just keep flyin’ bird brain. I’m just thinking.”

You could almost feel his smirk, “Thinking? Thinking of what, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Drop it Hawks.”

“Oh,” he said, his tone mischievous, “just like I can drop you?”

Just then, you felt Hawks serve mid-air.

“KEIGO,” you shouted, not even thinking.

But Hawks had regained his hold on you, the prank only lasting for a second.

He laughed, his chest shaking, “You should have seen your face, Chicky! Ha! That was funny!”

But you would disagree, “I swear to God, Hawks, I’ll punch you when we land.”

But you thought for a second, “Sorry I called you your name...so loud.”

Keigo didn’t really like his name, opting to be called ‘Hawks’ instead.

But you knew why he preferred his new name instead. Because of his past.

Keigo was a kid left in the dirt, left and discarded, a remnant of a past that wasn’t so pleasant. You knew that thinking about it only brought pain to him, and saying his name out loud would only remind him of a past he would rather soon forget.

And the name ‘Hawks’ had marked the beginning of a new life for him. It was a way for him to move on past that old life, a way for him to become the best version of himself.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s ok… I don’t think anyone heard,” Hawks said.

His grip on you seemed to be tighter, more secure.

“And also, you know I would never drop you, right? I could never hurt you, ever.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s so cheesy. Just don’t drop me and it’s fine.”

. . .

The place wasn’t too bad.

It was an old supply garage, there were about four people from what you could see.

It was definitely near U.A, you could see a clear view to the school, although it was far, it definitely had a vantage point. You could see why this could be a problem, and your brain hurt thinking about what villainous thing they could be planning.

You could hear the guy closest to you, it was a bit hard but you honed your ears.

“So, you all have everything,” a man asked in a scratchy rough voice.

“Yeah,” one of the others said, “everything's here, make sure to give it to Shigaraki with our gratitude.”

You looked over at Hawks, but his eyes were trained on the villains, his black pupils sharpening and watching their every move, before he nodded, signaling to move out.

And then, everything happened in a flash.

Hawks, as always, moved fast and quick, and you come up behind him.

Hawks grabbed one of the men, and held back the other two with his feathers, leaving only you and the two others.

You pulled out your handy metal staff, preparing yourself to bend it to your will.

But you never got the chance.

One of the men smirked a gun in his hand. The other behind him, activating what looked like an ice quirk.

And before you could think, you felt your feet being Frozen down to the hard metal floor of the garage.

“What the hell,” you mutter to yourself.

you tried your best to wiggle your way out of it, but you saw no way to free yourself from your icey binds.

Luckily, with your fast thinking, you grabbed the metal staff, shaping it to hit one of the men square in the jaw, making him drop his weapon.

the other one was taken aback, a perfect opening for your staff to hit him in the face.

But your feet were still frozen to the floor, and a few whacks to the felons was not going to be enough to take them down.

You racked your brain, Hawks was too far away, and there was no way you could get out of the ice on your own.

You brought your metal stuff back, using it to break the ice on your feet. Just as the men were getting back up.

You ran over, preparing to hit one of the men right in the face, a blow big enough to knock them out.

But you never got the chance.

The other man tackled you to the floor, your back hitting the ground.

“Not so tough now, are you, little hero.”

You looked over at Keigo, but there was no use. He was too busy fighting his own battle, and you knew it wasn't fair to rely on him.

So, with all your strength you pushed the man off. Using the metal floor to help you.

Just then, an idea occurred to you. It was risky, but it could work.

You knew that Keigo was far enough for it to work, it wouldn’t hurt him, but the only problem was it wouldn’t trap the two villains he was fighting.

But, considering he was the number two hero, you knew he would be just fine. You trusted him in that.

The ground beneath you is made of metal, you could feel it beneath your feet. You could also feel the two men running towards you.

You dodged their initial attacks, but you knew that they would soon overpower you. You also knew that you couldn't kill them, but you could hurt them.

So your best bet was to trap them, and yourself, before backup came.

You hit your palm against the floor, willing it to your mind. It was a long stretch, and you could feel the strain on your body. The toll that it was taking was immediate, your muscles felt tired, your brain even felt foggy for a few minutes, but you kept going.

You made sure that the ground collapsed, but it wouldn't hurt anybody.

You were not expecting, however, for the ceiling to collapse along with it.

There must have been a support beam on the ground as well that you had taken down with the floor, causing the ceiling to come down.

You looked up, seeing the last moment as the ceiling collapsed on you.

. . .

Hawks hated hospitals.

The smell, the people, the pain. He hated it all, but you were the one in the hospital, so of course, he needed to come.

The days after the accident had been hard, to say the least.

Keigo just remembered watching as the rooftop collapsed, watching your bruised body go along with it.

He remembered screaming your name too, yelling and willing all his feathers to help you, to get you out.

He remembered his heart racing and beating so hard in his chest, he remembered his eyes, tears swelling up as his breath ran ragged.

He didn’t even care about the villains, he had caught the two he had been fighting already, but he didn’t care. He needed to get you out, he needed to make sure you were ok.

After digging for what felt like an eternity, there you were, bruised and bloody. But you were breathing, and he held you close, his tears dripping over your cheeks.

He felt his heartbreak, he couldn't stand the sight of you being hurt, he couldn't stand the thought that he had something to do with it.

He wanted you to wake up, he wanted you to wake up so badly it hurt. For you to look up, and teased him about crying. He wanted nothing more than to apologize over and over, for making his friend suffer, even if it was unintentional.

He knew he could never forgive himself, and he knew he could never make it up to you.

Keigo knew you were in bad shape, so he called the ambulance to take you to the hospital. He was there with you the whole way, watching you, helping in any way he could.

He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, watching as your fragile body was rolled away to the special care unit of the hospital, as the doctors told him he couldn’t come in with you.

“Mr. Hawks,” a voice said in front of him.

He flinched.

Hawks wasn’t someone who was easily startled, seeing as he had years of training, but his mind was so all over the place. Worrying and wondering if you were ok, hoping and praying to god everything would be ok.

He couldn’t lose you, and he realized that only now.

If he lost you, how would he even be able to function? You were everything to him, his friend (if he was being truthful, his only true friend) , his rock, the person he could trust for support and help.

To be honest, if he lived in a world without you, he really wouldn’t know what to do…

“Sir?”

He snapped back to reality, his eyes looking up at the doctors.

“Sorry,” he sighed, “I think I’m just a bit off my game today, you’ll have to excuse my behavior. But what were you saying, sir?”

“Well, L/N Y/N has sustained some pretty severe injuries, such as bruising of the sides and hips, and a broken leg,” Hawks sucked in a breath, “We know how to treat it, of course, but Y/N will need much recovery time. That being said, Y/N seems to not have any family or emergency contacts but you. If it’s ok with you, would you be willing to visit as well as look over Y/N in the recovery period?”

Hawks quickly agreed, “Anything doctor, anything you need or Y/N needs...anything at all.”

The doctor smiled at him, “Thank you, Mr. Hawks, unfortunately though, Y/N needs a bit more time alone, but when we deem it ok, you can come back for a visit.”

Hawks felt his shoulders slump, he knew it was selfish, but he had hoped to see you again, to apologize for putting you in that piston, he felt horrible.

The mission wasn't supposed to go like that at all, it was supposed to be a swift and easy fight. It was really just supposed to be the four guys with easy quirks, and they were all supposed to be an easy fight.

Hawks had learned about the hideout in front of U.A a while ago, when he learned it was also a part of the ledge, he went right to Dabi.

“Are you insane,” he had said, “someone will catch you, and personally, I can’t stand by and let you attack those kids.”

“Oh?” Dabi smirked, “And how will you stop us? You’re a part of the league now, bird boy, and we need this lookout, so just shut up already.”

Keigo huffed, “I can’t let you do that, that’s right by my portal area, my bosses will get suspicious, and I look bad enough as it is. I haven’t brought anyone from the league in, soon someone will put two-in-two together.”

It was a lie of course, his bosses knew exactly why he couldn't bring in anyone from the league, they had assigned the mission after all.

But the problem didn't lie with his bosses, it lay with the other Heroes and the public eye. The other hero’s had started to whisper to each other, wondering why the Hawks hadn’t brought in anyone from the notorious League of villains yet. He heard their whispers, and it made him uneasy. He knew if he didn't act soon, they would just grow more and more suspicious. As for the public eye, he couldn't let his image slide, he had to figure out a solution, and this would be the perfect way to do so.

Dabi pondered the idea, toying with Hawks’ growing anticipation, like a cat pawing at a helpless bird.

“Alright, I suppose we can make that work.”

And so, a plan was formed.

Keigo was to swiftly take the four men in for questioning. Dabi had arranged for it so all vital information was to be learned from the lookouts, and then Hawks could swoop in and go in fighting. The other four men would have no idea what was going on, so it looked like the real deal.

They had set up specific times and dates to make sure they would take the men and the lookout down, that way the league wouldn’t lose any vital information.

“I’ll tell you when, don’t start till I tell you,” Dabi had said, “or else there will be problems.”

And Hawks had done as he was told, he waited for Dabi to give him the all-clear, and went in.

But you getting hurt was never a part of the plan.

Keigo felt guilt clawing at his chest. How did he get like this? He was supposed to be the one to protect you, to make sure that you were always okay.

But it seemed like he was the one who got you hurt.

His guilt was suddenly replaced by anger, it made him ball his fist.

Those men were supposed to be easy to take down, they were supposed to be simple to deal with, but even Keigo had difficulty defeating them all on his own.

This was an error on his part, he knew that, but he also couldn’t help but simultaneously blame Dabi as well.

It was his fault that he hadn’t warned Keigo about the strength of the men.

Keigo was going to make him pay….

. . .

Dabi’s head hit the wall with a loud thud, Keigo’s angry eyes boring into him.

“I should kill you right here, right now.”

Dabi laughed, “Look, it wasn’t my fault your little partner couldn’t handle a few guys, ain't they supposed to be a hero? Shouldn’t they be able to help themselves?”

Dabi’s twisted smile made Keigo see red.

“I swear Dabi-”

“The league will come after you, you know that.”

Keigo felt his hands shake with rage, his fingers wrinkling Dabis' shirt.

“What were they to you? You seem pretty upset there, birdy. Maybe….your lover?”

A feather sharpened at Dabi’s neck, Keigo’s fury never leaving his body.

“Say one more goddamn word and I swear to god I'll kill you.”

“Look,” Dabi said, “I didn't know how strong those guys were, I thought that you'd be able to take ‘em down pretty easily. But I guess we just gave ‘em more training than I thought. That's all. Nothing I could have done about it, and nothing you could have done about it. You should know that stuff like this is inevitable, shit is bound to go wrong.”

Keigo released him, his eyes still boring into Dabi’s.

“If I figure out you had some sort of part in this-”

“Yeah yeah, you’ll kill me. I get it.”

Keigo stormed off, walking away from Dabi.

Keigo wanted nothing more than to beat the crap out of someone, anyone, he just wanted someone to blame, someone to feel the way he felt.

The fact that you were in pain only made it worse.

What was he to do now? He couldn’t go home, he would only be able to think about you, only be able to think about your laugh, your eyes, your lips….

He shook his head. Why was he thinking of something like that? And at a time like this? You were...his friend.

But that thought made his heart sink. Like that thought had filled him with dread.

He sighed, shaking his head, this wasn’t about him, it was about you, it was about helping you. Not thinking about his feelings. Or lack thereof.

He felt his phone ring in his back pocket, just before he was leaving.

Looking at the number, he realized it was the doctor's office that was calling.

Without even thinking he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hello Mr. Hawks, we just wanted to ask if you would want to come in and see the patient L/N Y/N, they have woken up. So if you would like to see them-”

“Yes!” Keigo said, a bit too excitedly, “Sorry- about the interruption- but yes I would like to see them.”

“Alright Mr. Hawks, please come whenever you can, they’ve been asking for you.”

. . .

Hawks had never flown so fast, rushing so fast in order to see you, needed to see you.

When he finally got there, he rushed in, finding the receptionist to find your room.

“They’re in room 236 sir-”

But he cut her off, adrenaline pumping through his body.

“Ok, thank you so much.”

Finding your room was easy, and yet, he found himself outside your room, dreading to go in.

How could he face you? How could he apologize? How could he look you in the eye, see what happened to you, and be able to talk to you.

He ran a hand down his face, why was this so hard? He’s taken down many many villains before, and he had never felt as anxious as he did now?

“...Hawks?”

He jumped, he actually jumped.

There you were, standing, only a few inches away from his face, his eyes widened and he could feel his whole body becoming hot.

Why did he suddenly become like this around you? His heart felt like it was on fire, his whole body felt strange.

But your face, it looked so stunning, that for a moment he couldn’t feel his lungs.

“Are you...ok?” He was surprised that his voice finally managed to work.

You blinked, “Yeah, I’m ok. What about you, though? Your face is all red. Do have a fever or something? I can call a doctor.”

“No no,” he sighed, “just...feeling weird I suppose.”

He felt the redness travel from his cheeks all the way up to his ears, “I-I’m fine, really, don't worry about me, I'm actually here to see you.”

You smiled, gazing up at him, “Aww, you can see lil’ old me? How thoughtful.”

You both walked into your room, and Hawks watched as you lay down on the bed.

The hospital room was nothing special, a state-of-the-art hospital room, similar to one's that Hawks had been in many times. Being a hero always came with getting hurt, but seeing you in this condition, made his heart squeeze.

if he could, he would go back in time and figure out a way so that he could be in this situation, not you. You didn't deserve it, you have done nothing but help him, and this is how he repaid you? He felt sick with guilt.

“Hawks?” You said.

He snapped up, like coming back from a bad dream.

But you just laughed your sweet, kind laugh.

Hawks wanted to hear it again, one more time he wanted to hear you laugh like that, it made him feel like everything was drifting away from him like it was just you and him in this entire world.

“You’re totally out of it! What’s gotten into you,” You said, a smile still plastered on your face.

“Sorry, just thinkin’.”

“Yeah well you must be thinking a little too hard there, are you okay? Do you want to sit down? Something's obviously bothering you, you can tell me.”

but hawks just side, “I don’t know, I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

But you just smiled up at him, “Hawks, nothing in this world could make me upset with you.”

And so he told you, about the league, about the secrets he's been hiding from you. It felt good, it felt good to finally confide in someone, it felt like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. he felt at ease, talking to you like you were the only person who would ever understand. And you probably were.

You listened to him, you listened as he told you about what happened, about how sorry he felt, you didn't blame him for what happened, You just listened. You listened and listened and listened.

So when he finally finished, he was scared of what you would say.

“...I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why are you sorry, Hawks you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He looked up at you, “B-but I got you hurt-”

“That’s not your fault though, you had a mission to follow.”

“But I should have never involved you.”

“I'm glad you did, it could have been you that would have gotten hurt,” you said, smiling.

But he just tsked, “It would have been better if it was me, I can’t stand to see you like this, you know.”

Your hands went to his cheeks, bringing his face closer, “And I wouldn’t be able to see you like this either, I would have blamed myself. I’m glad I came with you, even if it meant I got hurt in the process. I care about you, Hawks.”

Keigo couldn’t breathe, you were so close, your lips an inch away.

“Keigo.”

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I want you to call me Keigo when we’re alone from now on, I...I like when you say it.”

You paused for a moment, and then burst out laughing, “Where did this come from?”

His face went red, “I-I don’t know, just kinda been thinking about it I guess.”

You giggled a bit before saying, “Ok, I mean, if that’s what you want. Y’know, you’ve been acting strange Haw-Keigo,” you corrected, “are you sure everything's ok?”

There it was again, the pitter-batter in his heart, the nervousness in his stomach.

Something was wrong, but he didn’t know how to say it.

He didn’t know how he would even categorize the way he was feeling, he couldn't explain it to himself, much less to you.

“I’m fine, just...overwhelmed I guess.”

He shook his head, “But I should be asking how you are, you're the one in the hospital, not me. Stop worrying, how are you, how are you feeling? What do you need me to do? I'll be here to help you, no matter what.”

You rolled your eyes, “Eventually you’ll have to go home, and I’m totally fine, Keigo.”

By the mention of his name, he couldn’t help but feel his heart squeeze.

“R-right, well, can I just..stay here. With you? Till you get better?”

You smiled, “Of course.”

. . .

While you were in the hospital, Keigo stayed by your side. He never left you, he cared for you, watched over for you, and was so understanding.

It only made your feelings for him deeper, and you were loath to admit that you enjoyed it.

You enjoyed watching him fawn over you, knowing that he was close to you. You two would talk for hours, about anything, and you loved it. You loved feeling him near you, watching his eyes soften and the stupid silly quirk of his smile. You felt warm inside, you felt so at peace with him at your side.

You knew it was selfish, but you couldn't help loving how long you were spending with him.

But, it all came to an end, and you had to go home.

To your surprise, Keigo offered you to stay with him for a little bit.

Just till you get back on your feet,” he said.

Your heart leaped at the opportunity, sharing a house with the guy you had a crush on for years? It felt like you were a lovesick teenager again. Although, you would always be lovesick when it came to Keigo.

At Keigo’s house, he was nothing but polite to you. Although, a bit too polite.

For all his flirting, for all his suave charm, he was never really like that with you. He was just normal, keeping to himself in the house, but always being able to hang out with you or do anything with you if you wanted.

And yet, you could feel the nervousness oozing off of him, like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back.

Like something was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get it out.

It, intern, made you just as nervous.

Were you being a nuisance? Did you say something to upset him? A million thoughts running through your head, and you are worried about all of them.

The last thing that you would ever want to do would be to upset Keigo, but you couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

Maybe he felt bad about the accident?

You sucked in a breath, that had to be it. He felt bad, and therefore, was nervous around you.

You have to confront him, you thought, you had to clear the air so you would both feel better.

You decided to wait till tomorrow morning, not wanting to scare or embarrass him well you could tell he was so nervous.

. . .

“Keigo,” you said, a waver in your voice showing how nervous you were.

“Hm?” Keigo looked up from his phone, his honey-colored irises landing on you, only serving to make you more anxious.

You took a deep breath, “I wanna talk to you about something. and it's pretty important, so I'd appreciate it if you could listen till the end.”

Keigo sat up, “What, am I in trouble or something?” He said in a teasing, yet nervous way.

“No,” you sighed, “But I just really need to talk to you about something.”

You took one moment more to collect yourself before speaking, “We've known each other for a long time, we've known each other since we were little kids when we were both put into the commission's program and since we were both made heroes. So you should know, that I know when you're upset.”

You saw Keigo twitch in his chair, but you continued.

“You've been nervous ever since the hospital, maybe even nervous in the hospital. And I don't know what's going on with you. I... I don't know if it was something that I did, or if it was something that happened, but I'm here for you. And I don't like it that you keep this a secret from me. I consider you to be one of my best friends, and I want you to know that you can trust me. No matter what happens, I'll still always love you. Nothing will ever change that,” a smile pulled at your lips as you said your last sentence.

It was silent for a few moments, the air between you too felt heavy and suffocating.

Finally, Keigo spoke, “Y/N, I want to tell you something, but... I'm not sure how you’ll react.”

You tried to speak up again, but Keigo cut you off.

“I know that you're going to say that nothing can ever come between us, and I do believe you. But... something came up and I just don't know how to deal with it. You mean so much to me, and losing your friendship is my worst nightmare. And I guess…. I just got so scared of losing you that I just didn't think about anything else. I'm sorry.”

Your face contorted into one of confusion, “Keigo, I’m not sure what you mean? What are you talking about? What came up?”

But Keigo just sighed, “Y/n I...I think I’m in love with you.”

You felt your heart stop, your eyes widened as your brain was racing.

What did you say? No... that couldn't be right.

Keigo Takami could not be in love with you, he just wouldn't. You had accepted that a long time ago, you knew that he would never have the same feelings that you had for him. You knew that, so what was going on?

“I...I’m sorry?”

Keigo’s face turned a bright shade of pink, “I-I think I’m in love with you. I’m sorry to spring this on you so suddenly, I know it must be a lot to take in, if you’re uncomfortable being here with me feel free to leave. I completely understand-”

But your lips stopped his words, your body pressed firmly to his.

He was started by the kiss at first, but soon, his body and mind became muddled, hands wrapped around your waist as he tasted your lips. It felt intoxicating.

Before you knew it, your hips were straddling him, keeping him locked in his chair. But Keigo wasn’t complaining.

Your lips tangled with one another as moans escaped both of you, your hands unable to leave each other's bodies.

Your hands traveled down his chest, even ripping open the button-down he was wearing, showing his abs and rippling muscles.

“Y/N..” Keigo said, his voice hoarse.

When you looked back up at him, his eyes were narrowed, slanted, and staring you down. But they had a softness to them, one that made your heart flutter.

“Keigo… god you have no idea how much I love you,” you said.

If this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up.

Keigo smirked, “‘s that so babe? Well, I plan to show you just how much I love you tonight.”

His lips attached to the column of your throat, kissing and nipping lightly at the skin. His hands roaming up and down your body made you feel as though you were on fire. His calloused hands stroked your back, making you arch into him.

“K-Keigo,” you moaned.

But he just hummed into your skin, his brain turning to mush, only able to think about how much pleasure he could give you, how much love he wanted to show you.

“Keigo, I love you,” you whispered into the shell of his ear.

Keigo groaned, still occupied with your neck, but pulled his lips away in order to say; “I’m glad,” and smiled at you.

You returned his smile before your lips found his again.

It would be a very long night.

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uweiy · 3 years

Note

I'm intrigued by Love is Science? but know nothing about it. Can you give me a run down on what kind of thing to expect and who it might appeal to? Thank you!! 😁

Ooooo boi *gremlin smile* I'm glad you asked. You've entered the dragon's den, broken the dam and thus this post turned out to be a monster so I'm gonna link here another post from @accidentallyadramablog which imo gives a nice (and short) overview.

That said let's get into

Love is Science?

Summary :

Yan Fei is a the CEO of the Love is Science marriage agency, that matches people based on scientific data. Hsuan Yu, 8 years younger than her, is a promising young hairstylist who has been in love with her thoughout their entire childhood when she has only ever seen him like a little brother.

Unexpectedly they meet again. Between the way they've each built their lives and how Yong Yan Fei's ex husband still looms over Yan Fei's life, how will their relationship develop this time around ?

Now,

just reading that summary I know what you're thinking.

Indeed, if you have some experience with dramas, you might recognize some TYPICAL TYPICAL tropes – let's get them out of the way :

love triangle (though we all know who she is going to end up with don't we)

childhood friends

'noona romance'

And they are every bit as present and as trope-ey as you would expect.

However, as they say, the devil is in the details.

And particularly, in the side characters. Let me give you a quick rundown of the lot of them :

As such, we follow the stories of multiple relationships that develop parallel to one another.

The relationships

• Yan Fei/ Hsuan Yu : Not much needs to be added I think. Their storyline might be the most predictable but they are pretty sweet and heartwarming. pining for like 12 years though poor Hsuan Yu. Anyway you can enjoy it or find it boring or but you can't hate it.

• Mark/Ouwen : Noooow we're getting to it. Their dynamic is so... Refreshing and unique. Confident gay with a soft heart and dumb disaster bisexual I mean *chef kiss*👌delicious

After the disasters of their first meetings, it's a cat and dog relationship where Ouwen is the hsssssss don't touch me– cat and Mark is the golden retriever trailing after him not really realizing the rampage he's creating in Ouwen's heart. while Ouwen is like "Remind me why the FUCK I caught feelings again ?".

IDK it just has everything 'Enemies' to friends to lovers, (not actually) unrequited love, pining, sweet moments, jealousy, feelings realization, snarky banter... What more could one want.

• Cho Nai Hui / You Fu : they are. So. So sweet. Both are older and have experience, and as such they are not so naive or stupid as the youngsters. Them sharing their life experiences and going on dates like typically teenagers (in movies or TV shows anyway) would is refreshing to see and really really heartwarming.

• Liu Sheng Ying/ ??? Her ex ? : The show hinted at a wlw storyline and this arc seems to have JUST begun. Basically Sheng Ying's ex comes to Love is Science as a client and requests Sheng Ying as an advisor, while Sheng Ying still seems heartbroken over her. I can't WAIT to see how it develops.

The friendships :

Something I greatly appreciate is that both the romantic relationships AND the friendships have a great importance in the drama.

• Joanna and Yan Fei : Jo, queen Jo 👑. She's just here to gossip, get all the gossip and be the voice of reason and we love her for it. You can see how comfortable they are around each other and how they were there for each other during tough times and still are. Kudos to the actresses because I believed the characters were besties in a heartbeat.

• Hsuan Yu and Mark : they are honestly... Such polar opposites you kinda wonder how they became friends but they are and it works perfectly.

Hsuan Yu still hasn't gotten he maybe shouldn't take Mark's advice, and Mark still hasn't gotten that he, definitely should take Hsuan Yu's. It also enables to develop a more playful and mischievous side to Hsuan Yu, giving him more depth?

• Ouwen and Sheng Ying: rivalry to reluctant solidarity to friends-but-i-will-deny-it-if-asked to just friends. IT'S GREAT

I also ejoy the fact that these multiple storylines are allowed to coexist. The romantic ones, the friendships, older, younger, m/f m/m and f/f like take your pick !! And tbh a WLW storyline ?????? These are so scarce I will take anything.

The recurring themes :

The show more or less subtly touches on some topics/issues, to which the dating aspect contributes to.

A non exhaustive list would be

Divorce, and how divorced women can be viewed as failures for some reason

How successful men over 30 are sought after but successful women after 30 are somehow deemed undatable

Preconceived notions and homophobia

And beyond the topics, there's just things like... Joanna not being interested in long term relationships nor wanting to get married, reporting sexual harassment, older people going on dates.... I'm not saying it's a groundbreaking activist drama –which is not really what I was looking for– I just appreciate the fact that it is a pretty mainstream drama and that these things are there.

Mad respect if you've made it up to here ! but we're not quite done yet.

The cast and crew :

The other element that made this drama stand out for me besides the side characters is the cast.

It might be weird that such a meta thing impacts the appreciation of the show but it did, for me at least.

📣📣TMI WARNING 📣📣

For me what happened is I stumbled onto Mark and Ouwen cuts on YouTube, then somehow onto the behind the scenes. They weren't subbed at the time so I could barely understand a word of what they were saying, thus I'm not sure what but something about how the rest of the actors, the director and the crew were interacting just told me it was a show worth watching or at least checking out.

📣📣END OF TMI📣📣

The cast honestly seems to have a blast and to have, how to say it, come together really well. It seems like most of them have become genuinely friends, or despite differences in personality have truly enjoyed working with one another and with the rest of the crew, and it shows.

Where it's lacking

In my opinion the show does have some aspects where it underperforms.

As previously mentioned, the main plot is kinda tropey, furthermore, in a drama typical fashion when something is about to get resolved, immediately something else happens. Nothing unexpected from a drama though.

The pacing : Some moments of the main plot especially dragged on, so I admit I skipped through some parts.

Because I feel so strongly about all the characters though, I don't really mind the previously mentioned points. I just think it's a shame because I feel like if it had been crafted a little bit better it could have made the show go from an 8/10 good drama to an 11/10 friggin amazing drama easy.

Lastly, there is a pretty unequal time distribution so Yan Fei and Hsuan Yu do tend to occupy the most part of an episode. However some episodes are more centered on some pairings (like ep 11 that will probably have an important Mark/Ouwen part).

Overall

it's a drama that warms my heart, as simple as that. It's not that deep, it's pretty funny, the acting ranges from good to excellent and I have taken a liking to a lot of the characters, which is what I think fuels my interest for the drama.

And I feel like it managed to attract a wide range of audiences because the romances and relationships are so diverse. Whether you watch the show for its entirety or for one aspect/storyline/character is entirely up to you and I feel like the creators of the drama are aware of it as well : and you can easily find subbed compilations about each specific pairing on Settv's official YouTube channel.

Take that aspect that you like–if you find one of course–and enjoy it, that is all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What's left to say besides.... 🎉🎊 Congratulations for making it to the end of this lengthy post !

#I add a tmi warning in the middle as if this entire post wasn't one lengthy tmi lol #long post #love is science?#戀愛是科學 #lian ai shi ke xue #tw drama #taiwan drama #taiwanese drama #honestly thank you for this opportunity to talk about it #it made me happy heh heh heh #oh and if anyone else of the 15 people who like the show want to add stuff share your thoughts or highjack this post go ahead #lis?

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mel-the-fangirl · 3 years

Text

The Escort

Walter Marshall x Reader

Words: 2,064

Warnings: none

Happy super late Valentine’s, Cavillry! As usual, this is a very very late upload but in my defense, it does say in my bio that I am a procrastinator soooo... Anyway, I’m really excited about this miniseries because I love the movie (The Wedding Date, 2005) and I really wanted to write Walter, I hope I do him justice!

Feedback (good and bad!) means the world to me as rookie writer, so I hope you’ll like, reblog and leave me some replies!

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

You could not believe you were doing this. You just couldn't. But there you were doing it, even though your mind screeched at you to stop and save a little dignity for yourself.

The fact that you even considered doing this was already a serious loss of dignity points, so what the hell. People did this all the time, didn’t they? There wouldn’t be a whole network of people clumped into this app if it wasn’t a normal occurrence.

It just wasn’t a normal occurrence for you.

Once you filled your head with rationalisations to make yourself feel better, you took a deep breath and began browsing through what the great city of New York had to offer.

Z, 6’, loving hands, fit, athletic, good manners, for water sports, caramel complexion.

For water sports? What in the hell did that mean? And that single initial in place of an actual name? Serial killer vibes. No, thank you.

Lenny, 6’2”, pretty fit Italian, excellent dinner companion, all occasions catered.

Alright. Okay. Now we’re talking. Tall, European, excellent dinner companion equals to good conversationalist, accommodating. Lenny goes on the list of possibilities.

Terry, 6’, my soft voice will arouse you, my strong hands will pleasure you, let me show you how a woman should be treated, hourly/overnight rates.

Oh no no no. Major creep vibes from Terry. That ad alone had you reaching for another long swig of wine.

Joey, 5’8”, are you into champagne?, bodybuilder, will treat you like a queen.

“If you like piña coladas…” you sang in not even remotely the right key, topping off your drink

Josh, 5’9”, I can make you feel sexy and wanted. Fit, sensual, strong.

“Well!” you exclaimed drunkenly, almost spilling wine on your couch, “Tough beans, Josh! I don’t need a man to make me feel sexy and wanted!” you faltered a bit, your drunk mind still seeing the holes in your logic

“I just… Need a man to help me not look like a tragic spinster in front of my family and my ex...”

With that thought fresh in your mind, you reached for some more wine.

The ads went on and on as you scrolled through your phone, it was all a little overwhelming, how were you going to make sure you weren't hiring some psychopathic serial killing pervert to pose as your date to your sister's wedding?

The groan you let out bounced off the walls of your apartment. The reality of your situation was sinking in little by little.

Yes. You were hiring a male escort for your sister's wedding. It was your baby sister's wedding, by the way. You were a hundred percent aware that what you were doing was completely and utterly pathetic but you’ve already weighed the pros and cons in your head countless times.

Showing up alone: pitying looks, whispering behind your back, having to face ex by yourself, staggering levels of embarrassment.

Showing up with handsome -hired- date: mother can finally get off your back, date is more handsome than ex, ex will want to shrivel up and die, no one will know date is male escort except you and him.

Now, let’s break down some of the guests just for the sake of being thorough.

There’s your slightly overbearing mother (slightly meaning every call you have with her opens with the question: “how's your love life, dear?” or “I have the most amazing man to set you up with!”), all of her judgy eagle-eyed friends (mostly rich widows whose sons your mom shamelessly shoves your way), your extended family (some terrifyingly old school great aunts and uncles who will definitely ask if you’re married and smile sympathetically when you say you’re not), and last but certainly not the least, Jeffrey, your ex-fiancé (best man, but apparently not the best man for you, his words not yours).

"Lordy fuck." you exhaled hard, chugging your wine straight from the bottle

How on earth did you get here? Sitting alone in your apartment, working your way through your second bottle of wine (or third? Who was keeping count?), clicking on ads that spoke of "hot single males in your area" waiting to meet you.

Would it be fair to pin it all on the end of your engagement?

Picturing that moment, you decided that it was only fair. Those were five years of your life you would never get back, you were prepared to sign on for more but, yeah.

You were blindsided, that's the only way to describe it. All the while, you thought that you and Jeffrey were on the same page, at the same place in life. You were the golden couple, the couple that all the other couples wished they could be, when you two walked past, girlfriends would give their boyfriends a slap on the shoulder that meant, "Why can't we be more like them?"

It was so out of nowhere, one minute you were discussing wedding cake options over dinner, then suddenly you're putting the ring in his palm, completely in shock.

After that, you threw yourself into your work despite the fact that you were already a budding workaholic to begin with. That's how you ended up earning six figures a year.

Six figure salary, check. Doing pretty well in life all things considered, check.

But even with all that, there weren't any conversations over casseroles and cobblers about your many achievements. Nope, your mother and her friends would much rather discuss their worries that you would essentially, die alone.

Your little sister, Amy, getting married before you didn't exactly help to put a lid on all the chatter. And with Jeffrey being the best man? And you being maid of honour?

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe you could make up an excuse believable enough to get you off the hook so you wouldn’t have to go?

Were you really thinking about bailing on your little sister’s wedding? If she wasn’t taking cues from your mother, it would be the only one she ever had.

Not one of your finest moments as a sibling.

With the complications of your situation fully realised, you took to reading the ads with a little more effort. Luckily, you didn’t have to look for long.

Nick, 6’, male, tall, good looking, strong build. You will not be disappointed.

The ad was considerably less flashy than the others but you supposed that’s what drew you to it in the first place. It was understated, simple, and his ad wasn’t entirely made up of overcompensating flexing pics.

Mostly because he didn’t need them.

Call off the search, send the boys home. You had a winner here!

Staring up at you from your phone screen was the most handsome man you have ever seen in your life. Literally.

A mane of thick, artfully disheveled curly hair, eyes that were a light shade of blue that had a sort of dark intensity and intelligence that you could spend days trying to understand, and a smile. Oh, that smile was absolutely suckerpunching. It was odd though, something in your head was telling you that this man did not smile often.

You couldn’t tell if the warmth blooming in your chest and creeping towards your cheeks was from all the wine or from examining this prime specimen. Jeez Louise!

“Phew!” you fanned yourself upon stumbling on a photo of him crossing his arms in a tank top. Good God, you hoped he had a license for those guns!

You had to set your phone down for a minute to think things through although it seemed absolutely nuts that you had to think twice at all. It’s just that after the initial excitement and hormones wore off, it was becoming more and more evident that this man was too good to be true.

Just look at him! Were there actually men that looked like that? And why didn’t they live closer to you? A quick sweep of his profile placed him in Minneapolis.

What were the crime rates like there? And did they have a high rate of murders relating to escort services?

Before you could even google anything related to that, you stopped yourself. If you kept at this rate, you would never get anything done! Finally, after a methodical deliberation (aka ogling the pictures on his ad), you saved Nick’s contact number to your phone.

Aaand that’s as far as you’d go for the night. You could call him tomorrow when you weren’t a floundering drunk. It was like your mother always said, “Always be sober for a business transaction, but anything else calls for a cocktail.”

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

The following morning, you sat at your little breakfast nook, eggs still piping hot and untouched, and a hangover in full effect. You’ve been staring at the phone number for so long, you could say it in your sleep.

Come on, Y/N, the wedding is five freaking days away.

What if this guy was fully booked? You didn’t want to spend five days surrounded by family with Mr. my-soft-voice-will-arouse-you, did you?

You slammed your finger down on the call icon and stuck the phone to your ear. Your heart beat faster and faster with every ring and your palms became so slick with sweat that you almost dropped your phone a couple of times.

Maybe you should have taken your mother up on the multiple occasions that she wanted to set you up with someone. Alright, on second thought, you didn’t really want to be with someone who only looked good on paper but was actually an insufferable mama’s boy.

“Hello?” a male voice answered, catching you off-guard

Oh, God. Okay, you’re really doing this.

“Yes, hi! Hi. Uh, I’m looking for Nick!” you chirped, in a startled high pitched squeak you didn’t dare recognise as your own

The silence on the other end was starting to make you sweat behind the knees. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t mention any specifics.

“Uh, sorry! I got this number from the, uh, the ad. I’m looking for Nick?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right, but Nick isn’t in right now. This is his manager.”

Was that a good sign? That a male escort had a manager? Did all male escorts have managers? You clearly didn’t know enough about this stuff.

“It’s a pleasure, Mister..?”

There was another beat of silence before the person on the other line answered, you tried your hardest not to overthink about what that could have meant.

“Foley! I’m Foley, Nick’s manager.” Mr. Foley’s voice returned to your ear, sounding much too bright for your liking.

Christ, what were you, a cop? To be honest, you were exhausted. Despite all the alcohol in your system last night, you barely got any sleep. You spent the rest of the night reading through some reviews of Nick’s service as an escort.

He had a glittering five star rating.

One woman hired him to pose as her husband at a high school reunion and by the end of the night, she ended up proposing to him. He respectfully declined and even bought her dinner afterwards.

That review alone was enough to convince you that you would be in good hands. So, it was time to buckle down, swallow the nerves, and handle your business like the adult you were.

“Mr. Foley,” you shook your hair out and put on your professional voice. “I’d like to book your client for five days, give or take. I need a plus one for a wedding. Is he available to leave on the-”

“Please hold. I’ll check his schedule.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mention when I-”

“He’s available. Would you prefer to pick him up at JFK or will he meet you at your place of residence?”

“Oh. Uh, I guess I could pick him up. Do I pay for his ticket or..?” you were feeling a teensy bit of whiplash at how fast this was all going

There was some rustling on the other line and the muffled sounds of bickering. You tried not to let that concern you.

“We’ll handle that, Ms. Y/L/N. We have your number, we’ll be in touch for further details. Good bye.”

The line went dead and you were left staring at your phone in confusion. Did you tell him your name?

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #nomis #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the man from uncle #napoleon solo #cavillry #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

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pixelwisp-archive · 3 years

Text

Circles - Kuroo x Reader

Happy Birthday @larkspyrr♡

Note: since this is a gift for Lark, the reader is coded to essentially look/be more like her. so I’m sorry in advance that it might not be considered gender neutral/be relatable, but majority of my other works are gender neutral!

Genre: fluff fluff fluff

wc: 1.1k

It ended - just like it began - in the library.

It ended with you, looking as radiant as the day he met you, with your hair tied up away from your face; much neater than the haphazard bun you had that Saturday morning four years ago. The sunlight filtered through the arched windows, surrounding you in the same golden halo that always had him wondering if - just maybe - you really were a gift from the gods. Kuroo felt his heart clench at the wobbly smile you gave him, and he made no effort to move away from you when you took his trembling hands into your own.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he echoed.

“This is it,” you whispered, finally, and he wished you saying it out loud made him feel better, but the painful ache in his chest assured him that it did not, in fact, help him feel better at all. He rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand and nodded as a small, wavering hum fell past his lips.

Kuroo's thoughts wandered back to when it all began. He trudged into the library at 7:32am with a coffee in one hand, his phone in the other, and a frown settled deep onto his face. He threw his leather bag onto the table as he grumbled under his breath about how ridiculously early it was, far too early for him to even be conscious, let alone at the local library (and on a Saturday, no less). He had signed up for tutoring sessions; because while he excelled in the majority of his classes, he was - unfortunately - downright foul at poetry; and his professor told him if he wanted any chance at saving his GPA, he'd better make use of the free tutoring services the university offered - and so here he was, at 7:30am on a Saturday morning, looking as haggard as any chemistry major would, absentmindedly flicking through his copy of Poems, Poets, Poetry: An Introduction and Anthology as he anticipated your arrival.

It was 7:43am when you burst through the doors to the library, the books in your arms piled so high it threatened to topple over if you so much as teetered a bit too far. He couldn’t see your face over the leaning tower of textbooks, but he heard you huff and curse under your breath as the doors slammed shut behind you, attracting the unwanted attention of the whopping five people that were currently in the library. He bit back a laugh and made his way over to you, offering a helping hand while you nearly buckled under the weight. You let him take a generous amount of the books out of your hands, soft gratitude tumbling from your lips as you huffed in relief. Kuroo was in the middle of saying “no problem” when the words died in his throat at the sight of you.

Kuroo was never one to believe in love at first sight, but seeing you for the first time - with your flushed face, bright eyes, unkempt bun, and adorable smile - made him understand just what Lev was talking about all the freakin’ time.

You exchanged names, eventually numbers, and he was (probably) the worst student you ever had, because he did nothing but flirt with you the entire time; making bad science jokes, mimicking Shakespeare, crafting various little origami animals and sneaking them into your bag while you tried to explain whatever the hell iambic pentameter was (Kuroo still doesn’t know).

It was a miracle you ever liked him back, let alone dealt with him this long.

Kuroo had been smitten with you since day one. He cherished every time he made you smile, every time he made you laugh, even the moments where he made you cry (’lessons’, he thought, ‘so I can do better next time’). He stood by you through every rough patch, every celebration, every new opportunity. You were with him, too - celebrated with him when he finally got that teaching position at Nekoma, took care of him whenever he got a little too drunk with Bokuto, even grieved with him, during the passing of his grandfather. The two of you still make an effort to visit him with his grandmother. He hopes you know how thankful he is for that.

“Tetsu?” Your soft voice lulls him back to the present day. He clears his throat and shoots you a comforting smile.

“Sorry, I’m here. Was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he admits. “Us.”

Your fingers feel smooth against his. He continues to map out every line, wrinkle, and callous; committing each piece of you to memory. “I’m just gonna miss it, is all.”

You snort - very unladylike, but very much you - and squeeze his hands. “Jesus, Tetsu, you’re acting like we’re breaking up.”

He laughs, his thumb running over the glittering diamond that sat on your ring finger. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant I’ll miss courting you.”

“Courting me? Is it the 1800′s?” Heat creeps up his face as he laughs along to your giggles, the sound music to his ears. Your smile brightens the room, far more than the cathedral ceilings and stained glass windows ever could.

God, he was so goddamn lucky.

You let your giggles falter as you adjust his tie, nodding in satisfaction once it was situated before bringing your hands to cup his face. He leans down, hoping to capture your lips with his one last time as his fiancé, but you press a finger to his lips and back away.

“Hey! No kissing. We already cheated by doing a first look. People are gonna start getting antsy, so you go on. I’ll meet you down there, okay?” You press a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning away, but he reaches out for your wrist and spins you back around.

“I love you. So, so much. You know that?” You smile.

“Promise?” He smiles then, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Promise.” You hum and take a step back, and it was only just then that Kuroo took notice of your dress. He could feel the tears prick behind his eyes as he sends one last wobbly smile your way.

You looked like a dream come true.

The music starts, and both of your faces fall into a panic as you push him toward the door to the main room, where all your friends were waiting with baited breath. He adjusts his tux one last time, and opens the door, before hearing a hushed ‘Hey!’ from the hallway, beckoning him to look back at you one last time.

You grin, grabbing a hold of your bouquet with one hand as you cup your mouth with the other, and whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

“I love you too.”

a/n: Today is Lark’s birthday and what better way to celebrate than some adorable fluff with best boy Kuroo♡ Also, since Kuroo becoming a capitalist is a crime we’ve decided to do him the justice and pretend he became a high school chemistry teacher instead. Eat the rich.😌

This is unedited/unbeta’d because lark is my beta and this was a surprise lmao

Requests are open!

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b0rista · 3 years

Note

i just saw your connie hcs and omg IM SO IN LOVE😩💕 is it okay to request an angst fic where connie’s s/o, gets shot instead of sasha?

— us.

an alternate universe where instead of losing his best friend, connie springer loses his soulmate.

AN: we love traumatizing q-ball here <3

WARNINGS: violence, death, extreme angst. && this is unedited, oops.

as the night deepened in its severity, you were swerving atop the disarray like that of a fallen angel. no matter how inhuman it felt, your duty was inevitable, as was the cause that came alongside it. you were a soldier. you, and your family. well, they weren’t linked to you through blood, but through experience, and even sorrow. as far blood relative, you were sure that you were nearing the final remnants of your family tree.

you win some, you lose some. even through all of the heartbreak and the waste, you'd managed to gain one thing. one beautiful, perplexing thing. well, it was more of a person than it was a thing; your love, your life, your will to move on— your connie. while you'd only become an item recently, you and connie's feelings toward one another go back, and far. in all honesty, you couldn't exactly recall when it was you first started loving him. and with his feeble memory, you were sure that it went both ways. fortunately, you can't bring yourself to care all that much about the past. you were living in the now, and turbulently so.

currently, you were in the midst of a mission. an intense one, at that. while each and every one of your assignments served with severe purpose, this one in particular wasn't meant to be taken lightly. after all, this had to be your very first time off of the island. not only were you standing on unfamiliar soil, but you were also standing within the core of an established battle between two entirely seperate worlds— that fact alone was enough dangerous as it was exhilarating.

however, the said battle was soon coming to a close, and it was nearing the end of your abrupt visit at the marleyan headquarters. the assignment was meant to be brief, if not a little tightly knit. you were to fight alongside the opposing combatants, retrieve your distant comrade, eren jaeger, and retreat immediately. and while you were still a bit skeptical of the literal aircraft you'd be traveling on, it was surely something you could get used to.

standing alongside your given sector of the battlefield, you were preparing for takeoff. due to having excelled in hand to hand combat during your time as a trainee, you were put closer to the ground than the rest of your associates, much to your worried boyfriend's dismay. as always, he fretted over you. if you so pleased, you could drop him on his ass whenever you'd like. even so, it always felt as if your capabilities were underestimated.

nevertheless, this wasn't the time nor the place for you to sulk in your own bitterness. soon, you'd be home. in the mere matter of hours, you'd be back within the comfortable abode of your home, cozied up in the arms of your beloved. in the moment, that's all you could bring yourself to even think about. you were tired, you were. if anything, the fighting only drained you. you were drained, and the only one able to comfort you was halfway across the battlefield, fighting the same fight as you. once you were to rejoice on the aircraft, you would be sure to pester him for the affection you craved ever so intensely.

with that being said, a call from afar was quick to pull you out of your own head and back to reality. from across the calloused ground that you stood upon, a familiar face waved in your direction.

"y/n!" they would call, "we're boarding— it's time to go home."

at that, you wasted no time in gathering yourself. with a nod, you readied your gear, intertwining your fingertips in between the metallic leashes that resided on your hips. with a single jolt, you propell yourself forwards, releasing your gear's wires onto the nearest rooftop. the moment your feet left the ground, you headed toward the jet. alas, your work here was done.

just as your comrade had said, it was time to go home.

while the carnage beneath you served as a grim reminder of just how destructive your livelihood was, it was the thought of returning to your sweet home within the walls that urged you to look away. a fire had been lit upon your very own accord, and you despised this war. still, it was your war to fight, and with good reason. at least, that's what you told yourself.

as your team's blimp came into view, your voyage into the sky became rushed. clearly, you were aching to leave. little did you know that below the latches of your ODM gear, a tiny pair of copper hues were watching you; and with the utmost fury.

with that final clasp hooking to the aircraft's entrance, you swiftly flew into the air, inured hands grasping at the rescue ropes that fluttered against the metal exterior. the air serving a harsh breeze against your skin, you climbed to the door. however, before you could pull yourself in, a hand reached out to your aid.

"come," the voice would say, earning quite the look from you. to your immediate relief, it was the exact person you'd been meaning to see. looking down at you from within the jet was connie, his arm extended out toward you. and while you couldn't exactly see it due to the circumstances, there was a faint glimmer of consolation poured within his golden hues. thank god, you were alright.

taking hold of his hand, you allowed him to pull you up, bringing you into the craft with such a force, you'd have assumed he was angry with you. however, you knew that that wasn't the case— he was relieved, in the same way that you were. and immediately, he began checking you of any possible harm.

"how are you?" he'd ask, fingers moving to pinch at your cheeks. you only winced at the feeling, the literal life being squeezed out of your face as your boyfriend hurriedly scanned you. this was an occurrence that happened at the end of each and every expedition, much to your displeasure. "are you hurt? anything happen while we were seperated? i didn't realize it'd get so hectic, or else i would have-"

in the midst of his banter, you would only place your hands on his forearms, lowering his touch from either side of your face. gently, you would give them a squeeze, providing him with that reassurance that he desperately needed. softly, you would smile, "i'm okay. by the looks of it, most of us are. that's good."

with a sigh, connie would nod. after all, you were right. only few soldiers were injured, and from what the two of you could tell, most of them were coming home. considering the rare occurrence, you could only smile.

from the corner of your eye, you could see more and more comrades boarding the aircraft. and with time, a particularly familiar face would pull himself on board. having made himself out to be quite the leader, it brought warmth to your core to see jean return safely. the same went for your other friends, of course— sasha, mikasa, armin, and so on. at this point in time, you couldn't even classify them as friends. they were family.

seeing as though your lover was quietly waiting to reconcile with the others, you would lay a brief pat to his shoulder. "i'm gonna put up my gear," you'd say, bringing yourself up to your feet. "while i do that, you ought to thank those two for making it through."

with a nod, he would comply. as always, you were the one to nudge him in the right direction. it was your straightforwardness that balanced out connie's constant uncertainty, adding yet another reason as to why the two of you were simply perfect. without any further discussion, he would make his way over to the entrance of the jet, rejoicing with jean and sasha. as he did, you made your way to the compartment sector of the craft, stowing away your gear. after all, there wasn't any further need for it.

as you situated yourself for the trip back to paradis, you would exchange small talk with your fellow soldiers, both congratulating and thanking those who made it back alive. because truly, you were thankful. it wasn't often that you gain such a victory. though, as time went on and you'd circled your way through the plane, you found yourself headed right back to where your heart lingered.

sitting along the back of the carrier, you saw your love hooked in the middle of his fabulous trio of friends, pulling an immediate smile out of you. he was yet to see you, but you could see him. with both of his arms latched onto the other two, you could hear his quiet confession from where you stood.

"it's not very fair to the others, but you guys are special ... to me."

not wanting to spoil the three's moment, you would only watch. it was the tender silence that stitched together a memorable matter of seconds, despite the circumstances. from a fair couple of feet away, you smiled. unfortunately for you, he was able to catch it.

"and you," connie would add, quickly reaching over to grasp your hand, "you're no different."

melting into his touch, all you could do was interlock your fingers in his own, lips tipping in yet another smile. taking advantage of the opportunity, the boy would pull you into his shared embrace, tugging you in between him and the other two. the iron outline of your uniform managed to graze jean's side, causing quite the exclamation: "ouch, jackasses. don't go for the hug when you're covered head-to-toe in metal."

of course, you would only ignore the brunette's antics, further sinking into the heavenly embrace of your lover. with your cheek pressed against his chest and his fingers tracing along the locks of your hair, you immediately felt at ease. this was home.

"now, now," sasha would coo, adjusting her ponytail, "now isn't the time to overflow the aircraft in your PDA, lovebirds. when do we get to eat?"

pulling your head from connie's chest, you would let out a chuckle, "not until we land, sasha. you do realize we're in the air, right?"

"ah," the girl would sigh, sheepishly moving to scratch the back of her neck. adjusting yourselves, the bunch of you moved to your feet, "i suppose i haven't quite adjusted just yet. just three years ago, we relied on our horses for everything."

"yeah," jean would add, "somehow, it feels like that was just yesterday."

now that you were all situated, the four of you shifted further towards the rest of your team, who were all dancing and shouting in celebration. you hadn't even realized how elated everyone was, having been so focused on the others. out of everyone boarded the ship, it was those who were apart of the 104th that had witnessed the most. with that in mind, acts of celebration were more mild than anything else. while you were glad, you were glad quietly.

still, something felt off. somebody was missing.

just as you were about to make a comment regarding the missing member of the squadron, a quick remark from sasha caught your attention.

"did you hear a sound just now?"

while the other two dismissed the thought, it was you that took it into a much more thorough consideration. compared to anyone else, sasha's sense of hearing was impeccable. while the others may have failed to realize it, she heard something. and with her senses mixed with your paranoia, you were quick to take the remark into account. out of instinct, you watched the door. the door was open, and one of your comrades from below remained missing. the door was open, and sasha heard something. the door was open, and it was vacant of any sort of movement.

the door was open, and someone slipped through.

a miniature figure with a barreled weapon pounced through the doorway and onto the aircraft, and at the sight of a single finger latched onto the trigger, your heart itself dropped. before anyone else had the chance to react, you did. seeing as though the muzzle was aiming toward the center of the flood, you were quick to lunge sideways, pushing whoever it was that stood before the armed figure out of the way. as you flushed whatever will you had to live into the force of your push, sasha simply looked at you in horror— the horror of having to survive, simply due to your own accord.

it was quick. it was immediate, the single bullet, plunging directly into your chest. it was quick to enter you, and it was just as quick to warp you of your senses completely. while you saw that you were falling, you couldn't feel the impact of the wooden floor beating into your back. you couldn't feel it. you felt nothing.

and while you felt nothing, connie felt everything. his entire universe, crumbling apart before him.

in a blend of absolute horror, you could see from your hindsight as he rushed to your side, palms immediately moving to cup your face. moving your blurred gaze towards him, he would shout at you. he would shout, but it was all unintelligible.

"no, no, no," he would mutter, fiercely shaking his head. you were in an absolute daze, and he couldn't sense what you were feeling. hell arose in the back, and your attackers were being mercilessly beaten into defeat. your friends, however, didn't leave your side.

tears brimming in her eyes, sasha would rush to get some sort of a bandage for your wound, which was bleeding profusely. before anyone could process anything, you were laying in a pool of blood, the crimson flow staining your uniform.

"goddammit— HURRY!" your lover would scream, eyes wide. your head lay in his lap, and his fingers tenderly graze the sides of your cheeks in a loving, desperate manner. soon enough, he would feel the raw set of tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes, too. this wasn't happening, this couldn't happen. not to you. dear god, not to you.

"look at me, y/n." he would say, to which you tried your absolute hardest to oblige. you tried, but as your life itself began to drain, you only struggled.

"you can't leave, baby. you can't go, not yet. not after everything we've been through, everything we've fought for! it's always been us, it's always been you. look at me!"

however, you couldn't look. no, you couldn't do anything. instead, you could use whatever strength you held, and mutter the very last of your words: "us."

it's always been us.

with that, your blood went cold. and as your eyes closed, and your skin paled, a blood curdling scream begging you to stay filled the air around you.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot imagines #aot x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer imagine #bye i cried writing the end

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tokyokookmin · 3 years

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I really loved your explanation regarding vmin it was retable. kanmom51 anon, Im using a little of your ask for @tokyokookmin to explain and narrate a lil about JIMIN shes a JM biased too so I felt that it would be appropriate to ask her.

"Because it’s no secret that JM doesn’t get any praise from the company, the choreographer, and all."

"When it comes to the members it’s a different topic. They hype Jimin up. We have J-Hope constantly praising JM. Jk completely in awe with JM dance. Jin thanking him for helping him rehearse."

"So for me Bighit for some reason doesn’t do anything for JM, no credit in his work, no acknowledgement, nothing."

I felt that every single word that this anon has said is pure truth and this remark deserves much more attention. We all know what's currently going on with JM, the situation is really bad and its getting worse, toxic solo stans are bashing him and they are comparing him to other members from every perspective + even the hate that he's getting bcuz of him "annoying jk" in that memories 2020.

I need you to explain on how a wonderful person JM is. Your impact makes a huge difference on people mindset. tysm keshhh.

Hey there anon!, I deeply understand your emotions. The hate that JM is going through is really bad and I have personally reported those accounts on twt etc. I even took a few snapshots of a tiktok video comment section... I will surely share them some day or another. Well then lets get started! I can't compare J-HOPE TO JM because they are my biases and both of them captivated my eyes, I just can't resist their flawless moves and they make a great dance unit... it would be incomplete without one of them + JK lol.

Most armies would say that JK is the golden maknae or he's the best overall in the team, well y'all took JM for granted, he's capable of doing so many things as well. But before that we need to talk about his dancing skills, I have made one blog about the 3J. Here's the link if you would like to know about their achievements/viral moments https://tokyokookmin.tumblr.com/post/654670945252933632/a-guide-to-the-dance-line..... this blog was mostly just me collecting info's lmao-.

1. DANCE ☝️

Well I found this incredible video from tiktok and I thought that this video would be perfect to describe his contemporary skills. Utmost respect to the creator for creating such a masterpiece!

Jimin Van Fleet Award!

Do we really need to talk about this? We all knew what impact he had given to audience with his remarkable traditional korean fan dance.He is extremely talented, after all he trained in contemporary.

“I received many really big awards today. I sincerely appreciate it, and it was a day when I thought I would like to share it with you with better music and stage in the future. Thank you all for your support. #JIMIN# We have been unclear” #JiminWorldwideLoved 📷📷📷📷

"As emphasized by the ballet dancer, being lifted is not easy, just like in the case of Jimin in the said stage. A strong core, glutes, and chest are vital for the one being lifted." https://youtu.be/3RW91KT3bXw - another review from a japanese dancer.

He is extremely versatile and he can master any sort of genre.He excels in dancing,his moves and fluidity of his body is astonishing they way he moves every tissue in his body to perfectly to complete the cheoreo is just mind blowing, he is truly the embodiment of dancing! Believe me or not, you should pay more attention on his facial expressions... he keeps it graceful. His fingers and angle are on point.

From MAMA 2016 Lie meets Boy meets evil to MMA 2020 black swan 🦢..I wonder what's coming up next.

2. Loving member

Jimin is the member that I connect emotionally to, he's a sentimental person but he just doesn't show it you just have to pay attention on his behaviour and actions. He consoles many of the members and he provides comfort for them. The picture I attached below sets a great example.

1. BTS MAMA 2018... It was a tough year for them. They were close to disbanding, and the members were emotionally drained. My heart sank when I saw hobi breaking down in front of the crowd, you can find tons of fancams but you should take a close look at Jimin. He handled the situation very well and I love the way he gives his subtle touch of love towards the other members.

2. Taehyung grandma death announcement

I don't think that I need to explain the about the situation. Taehyung was really sad and felt guilty as he couldn't mention his grandma name. He broke down and Jimin immediately noticed him and ran towards him and just gave him little pat/huggie.

3. The Final

Even by looking at the picture you can see the comfort. You know that GCF-TOKYO song “there for you’ which implies that Jk means he will be there for jimin but "you gotta be there for me too” which means jimin gotta be there for him too. So yeah, JM just know jungkook well and he comforts Jk pretty well.It was so cute and i wished i was a part of the audience, i would have had a panic attack looking at them being so cute,fluff,intimate ON STAGE . Too bad it’s impossible now .

3.He's a badass [ athletic/ physical ]

Jimin has often talked about his experience in kendo,japanese fencing,Geomdo (검도, 劍道) “Way of the Sword” & hapkido. HAPKIDO: electid korean martial arts .It is a form of self-defense that employs joint locks, grappling, throwing techniques, kicks, punches, and other striking attacks.

https://youtu.be/oUcHghZQxiw - a video you may refer to.

.4.Academic excellence

After Namjoon Jimin has the most remarkable academic achievements in bts. He was one of the top students in junior high and was THE top student in Busan arts high school from ALL the departments. Fun fact Jimin IQ is 128! He was valedictorian too.

"When he was in junior high, he was one of the top students so Jimin's dad thought of enrolling him in a foreign language school. When he decided to go to an arts school, his teachers tried to stop him and were disappointed. He was accepted as the top of his class and attended Busan High School of Arts. He was doing really good. Then he switched to K-pop dancing and decided to be a trainee in Seoul. Teachers also tried to stop him and were disappointed. Park Jimin's life is really something.

36. Our Jimin didn't spend a lot of time preparing for the arts school. He was dancing popping when he decided to go to the arts school. He then learned modern dancing for a little over a year and was accepted at Busan High School of Arts as the top of his class even though he was a dance majorπ TT TT Every member in this group could've been successful at anything. That group is our pride, BTS.

60. Wow! If there's only one dance class, it's really incredible~ It's hard to get a top student from dance department. And it was achieved by a male student and it's Park Jimin TTTT

67. That's what I know too.. I was looking into Busan Arts School before and one class for dance is probably correct. It was mostly music and art classes that I remember. So from Busan Arts School, one out of ten classes and a male student from dance department getting accepted as the top of the class...the percentage is just incredible. I know that the dance class has about 40 students? And male students could be 25:15 or 30:10. Jimin broke through this and became the top.

Namjoon and Jimin really made a huge gamble. They could've went the easier way. Truthfully, if they went their way, they both would have succeeded. But becoming an idol and not knowing what their future will be and BTS not being successful from the beginning must have been really hard for them. But now I'm glad they're successful and they can realize they've made the right choice."

cr @artimitatesjimin

I really respect and idolize him. His personality is unique and its different.He's been through alot. Being kicked from BTS for 8+ times, the members ranking his looks as the last and being called fat and ugly, that's really disturbing. He starved and went on diets just to please the audience and to have a jawline. He works his ass of and he really deserves more. He's obviously cutie,sexy,lovely,sweet guy! He prioritize his career, family and fans before anything. He has absolute heavenly vocals (+crazyyy high notes) and he is the definition of stage presence. PARK JIMIN IS THE STANDARD. Solo toxic fans are definitely going to attack on me but this is the reality.Jimin deserves more and he's such a sweet person. He performs with his whole heart and expresses it wonderfully,he goes all out and each performance comes out from his soul. He loves to perform. I MEAN FOR THE LOOKS, JIMIN IS THE FIRST FOR JUNGKOOK~.

He once even wasn't able to attend THE GRAHAM NORTON SHOW due to his sore muscles.

He went through alot and he deserves the #1 in brand reputation, who doesn't admire his determination?

Each member is unique in their own way. I want no hate or malice on my platform ~

Bits and pieces I collected anon! love ya ~ stay safe.

#bts park jimin #park jimin #tojungkookjiministhethebest #jiminbiased #istilllovejikook #bts jikook #kookmin

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three-word-count · 3 years

Text

Bitter Thoughts and Drinks to Match

Zelda hates formality and uses a slightly-drunk Link to get the hell out of attending responsibilities. This is based on a prompt someone sent to my main but I realized at the end that the “affection” aspect is more like la croix rather than direct..

Word count is 1881

Read it on ao3 if you want

Overly pretentious would be her first words to describe it.

"You must look your utmost best," her father had said to her. Of course, though, she prepared herself the same way as any other day. It's not like he would notice a difference in her anyhow.

Her hair swept down her back, pulled away from her face like drapes by a delicately woven band. She was adorned with the classic royal garb she would normally wear to these events, her vibrant irises standing out against the deep blue. Golden crests fringed the edges of her robes and stood proudly on her jewelry to represent her lineage. She hated it.

She didn't recall having these disgustingly over-the-top galas when her mother was still here. Perhaps the queen preferred to be more comfortable. Or perhaps she just kept Zelda's father in check. With his better half departed, perhaps he'd finally lost it and decided to cope with cheesy extravagance. Zelda had of course become accustomed to the formality of things, living her life as a princess of Hyrule. But you can only tolerate so much in so many years before you begin to despise it. What she wouldn't give to have any other life. These events especially reminded her of it all. Whereas getting dressed in extravagant formal wear and glorifying yourself would normally be viewed as a fun night out for most people her age, Zelda experienced it all as just another tedious, official obligation.

And this event was even worse than most.

Her father had organized this celebration to bring light to the princess and the "progress in her diligent prayers, calling to our Goddesses and strengthening her power to abolish the Calamity." She truly loathed him.

He has to keep spirits in the kingdom high, he says. The people must have hope, he says. You are their hope, he says.

She wishes she wasn't.

She sat a bit straighter, wishing she could let out a sigh. Her father remained seated beside her, rigidly formal as ever. Two senior knights were posted beside them, scanning the crowd for any nitwit that would even consider threatening the royal family at a celebratory event, of all scenes. The absurdity of being guarded for one's entire life. The only knight she could tolerate was the little, quiet, reserved boy she had grown to care for who was currently chugging a mug of Hylia-knows-what while being cheered on by a circle of peers. That was a sight she'd never thought she'd see.

Normally, knights would attend events rather seriously, a long table of them in the dining hall sitting rather proudly and eating their well-deserved fill with a single glass of wine. However at tonight's celebration, her father had told the younger members of the Brigade to enjoy themselves, as he was thankful for the work they had done to watch over the princess. Now, when officially granted the freedom to "enjoy yourself", any given person would naturally, fully, enjoy themselves. The king likely considered this beforehand, but as he glared at the boisterous table, Zelda assumed he had expected them to maintain at least some decency.

She turned her attention back to Link himself as he slammed down the empty mug into the table, making the silverware clatter as his friends let out congratulatory whoops. As he was her personally assigned knight, she spent the most time with him compared to the rest of the royal guards. Before meeting him, she knew him to be "the silent knight" and expected him to stay this way as he irritatingly chased her shadow wherever she went. However, the two began to bond after always being in such close proximity throughout the days. She recalls the first time he spoke to her, his soft voice clashing with his rigidly stoic personality. He slowly began to open up, and Zelda in turn took down her walls. As he was the youngest royal knight, barely older than Zelda herself, she felt a true connection to him. Both were burdened by pressure and expectations at such an unfair age, all public eyes watching their every move. It was a special kind of kinship they shared.

However, she had never seen this side of him and didn't even think he had this side. She'd heard rumors that his platoon had dared him to eat a platter of rocks, and he had done so quite enthusiastically, but she didn't dare believe it. Now she found herself second-guessing.

But maybe she could use this to get out of here.

"Father," she said, "It was quite kind of you to allow the guards to enjoy themselves this night."

He let out an irritated huff of air from his nose, glancing at her as if asking Where are you going with this?

"However," she continued, "I worry that my knight will not be fit to guard tonight if this continues."

The king turned forwards once again, eyes set on the knights' table like stone. He let out a deep humm as if he was actually considering his daughter's concerns for once.

"Are you asking for an excusal?" he finally asked, remaining facing forward and as rigid as ever.

That usually wasn't a good sign.

"Yes, father."

Silence.

"If you would be so kind, father, I shall return to my room and pray. My knight may remain posted with me as always."

Promises of prayer and diligence. He always liked that. He seemed to further mull this over, and then stood. Silence befell the hall and all eyes turned to him before he even spoke.

“I would like to thank you all for attending this gala for our princess. It truly means a lot to her and I, her confidence and abilities improving each day due to your prayers and encouragement. However, our princess must retire early this night, as she has a vigorous prayer routine in order to prepare for her coming journey to the spring of wisdom. We shall allow our princess to return to her devotion, and she offers her appreciation before her departure.”

And with that, Zelda took her cue to get up and leave as quickly as possible, without either causing confused murmurs or without her father deciding to call her back. She skirted the edges of the room, steadily approaching the knights at the easternmost wing of the dining hall as she ignored the crawling sensation of hundreds of eyes tracing her movements. She halted at the head of the table, expecting Link to automatically rise from his seat and depart with her, but she was disappointed to find that he was lying face-down on a placemat with his arm sprawled across the surface, gripping onto an empty mug in his delirium. His peers were doing an excellently awful job at attempting to shield him from sight, presumably one of them kicking Link from under the table as he gave a periodic little jolt. Sir Link, who would promptly lose consciousness after only one drink, was truly the most valiant and courageous knight of them all. The hero of legend indeed.

“Hero,” she said curtly. That was sure to snap him awake. She hadn’t spoken to him like that in months.

Link gave a startled snort and made a sound that appeared to be a mix between heyyyyy and noooo.

Zelda sighed and held back a smile with all her willpower. “Try to appear… fit. Let’s go.”

She thought she heard him mutter “Hylia…” before getting up to full height and keeping his head down, sure to either avoid eye contact or to hide his miserable expression. Imagine attending a royal gala and getting to see the hero of legend get wasted. Surely that would bring comfort to the denizens of Hyrule.

Zelda began to head off at a slow pace as to allow her knight to steadily follow. As the pair left, Zelda kept her gaze set forward firmly. She didn’t want to see what anyone else was thinking. She hated these galas anyway. As soon as she was out of here she could relax.

Her shoulders went slack as soon as the door was closed shut behind them. Finally free. Link seemed to agree with her thoughts, as he leaned against the wall with a thud, glaring at the ceiling with a scrunched face. Zelda smirked.

“Too much for you, hero of legend?”

He responded with a disgruntled moan.

“Perhaps I should be the one guarding you instead,” she joked, moving to lean against the wall next to him.

He closed his eyes and let a puff of air escape from his nose. “Never let me drink again.”

“Alright, I hereby formally declare you as banned from ‘partying hard.’”

Link let out a single bark of laughter. “A life sentence, eh princess?”

“You did say ‘never’ after all.” She smiled at him as his glazed blue eyes met hers. “Though, I may even have to change it to ‘partying mild’ by the looks of you,” she added.

Link hummed in content as his back slid down the wall so he could sit comfortably. “Wait with me a bit,” he said weakly, though it sounded more like a hopeful question.

Zelda of course obliged, and sat down next to him, tucking her dress under her folded knees. They sat in comfortable silence as Link's eyes began to flutter closed and his breathing became deeper. Zelda was glad that he could be so comfortable around her now. He wouldn't dare to fall asleep in her presence a mere month ago.

But now, all Zelda could do was stare ahead at the wall. Her thoughts ran free, jabbing needles through her head. Her hatred for galas. Her hatred for this. For everything. For her father. For herself…

“Worthless…” she whispered to no one. “Dedicating my life to prayer and yet cannot receive a single answer. Nearly ten years… And yet father pretends that everything is fine by maintaining this masquerade with galas to cover. A fine set of never-ending distractions…” She sighed, resting her chin on her knees. “Just a good-for-nothing king and his good-for-nothing daughter at the head of it all.”

She sat in her frustrated silence a second more, and turned her head back to Link to see a single sapphire eye clouded by alcohol and sleep gazing upon her. Compassion. Understanding. He didn't need to utter a single word to convey his emotions. We share these burdens together.

Zelda gave him a melancholy smile and stood. “Let’s be off, hero.”

And with that, the memory began to fade.

She opened her eyes. Nothing to see but a golden hell of her own making. Sweat poured down her brow. The intense light seared her skin. What a time to recall something as minor in her life as that… Clinging to seemingly insignificant memories in order to harvest any available scrap of hope she can get her hands on.

Though to her, any memory of him was quite the opposite of insignificant. She prayed he was coming soon. Not that prayer ever did a single thing for her anyway. She wished he was coming soon.

She wished none of this had ever happened this way.

She wished she were anywhere else but here.

She wished she were at a gala.

#zelink #zelda #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #loz #tloz #botw #breath of the wild #writing #writers on tumblr #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #three makes a post #three writes something #three doesnt know how to use tags

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toraodwaterlaw · 3 years

Text

Heart to Heart

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4

This is the final part of a four part AU fic set just after Marineford. Law is the latest Corazon, but Rosinante is still alive.

1681 words (6638 total for all four parts), angst with a happy(ish) ending

Whenever he returned from a mission, Law would appear like clockwork as soon as night fell. Normally. This homecoming was anything but normal. Rosinante didn’t think much of it that first night. Law had looked worn to the bone. Rosinante had hoped he was getting rest. When Law didn’t turn up the next night, Rosinante started to worry. He checked carefully with Viola and found out Law hadn’t left his quarters once, even to eat.

That settled it. As soon as he was sure there was no one around to interrupt, he slipped into Law’s room and closed off the outside world with a snap.

Law was at his desk, medical charts and texts spread before him. Rosinante assumed Law was reading until he got close enough to see those golden eyes were fixed on the window. He was staring beyond the edges of Dressrosa toward the distant horizon. A single black feather was clutched loosely in his hand.

“Hey, kid.”

Law’s fingers twitched. For him, it was about as good as jumping in surprise. “He still hasn’t put the strings in your lips back.” This didn’t seem to be addressed to Rosinante. It certainly wasn’t directed toward him, as Law continued looking out the window. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I noticed.”

Every word continued to be a struggle for Rosinante but he would talk until he could no more if it got some reaction out of Law. As it was, there was an emptiness in Law’s eyes that was far too close to the look he’d had those first meetings on Spider Miles.

“Would you look at me?”

“You shouldn’t talk so much. You still need time to heal.” Law reached across his desk to place the feather on the windowsill. He replaced it with a quill and scrawled something out on a scrap of paper. “Here’s a list of teas and other natural remedies to help your throat.”

Rosinante took the note as it was passed back to him. “I appreciate it but—”

“I’m working on a salve for your lips.” Law rooted through bottles on his desk and on shelves to the side. He pulled open drawers on a cabinet and picked out different packets of fragrant herbs. They were all arranged carefully across the desk. “Some of the ingredients need time to cure before they’re ready, so you’ll have to wait a bit longer. I’ll write out instructions so that you know just what to do.”

Rosinante hugged his arms to himself to keep himself from grabbing Law to put a stop to all the anxious movement. The boy already had his movements controlled enough as it was. And it wasn’t what Rosinante really wanted.

“Law. Look at me. Please.”

Law sighed and turned slowly in his seat. His eyes immediately flicked to Rosinante’s chest. Rosinante had pulled on a light sweater for the meeting. The telltale hole in his chest couldn’t be visible but he knew it was all Law saw anyway. Law reached a hand toward it before quickly pulling it back to himself.

They were facing each other, which was a start, but Law didn’t seem any more inclined to talk to him. Rosinante frowned and then immediately winced at the pain it brought. At least now, with Law looking at him, he was free to us his hands to sign.

Are you okay?

Law scowled. “Me? I’m— you’re the one with a—” His frown deepened further and looked away again. He clutched at his own chest. For a while it seemed like he wasn’t going to say another word. In the end, voice low, he added, “I took your heart.”

His voice sounded as raw and pained as Rosinante’s.

Rosinante placed a gentle hand on Law’s face. He turned it so that he could get a better look at the bruising. He wished he knew what else Law was hiding because he was certain that there were other injuries. Law was no more one for covering up than Doffy was, so his crisp, black shirt doubtless covered injuries to his torso. Rosinante wished he knew what else was being hidden from him. He knew by now, though, that Law would simply brush off any such inquiries, so he’d try another approach.

What happened?

Law waved him off. “I was stupid. Straw Hat had a nightmare about his brother and I was too close when he woke up. Seems he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of me trying to hold him in his bed so he wouldn’t reopen his injuries. I’m fine.”

Rosinante must have looked dubious because Law’s frown deepened.

“I am,” Law insisted. “I did a scan to check for serious injuries to be sure. I’ve had much worse. I’d be healed up by now if I had a chance to actually get some rest.”

Then why don’t you rest?

Law crossed his arms. He’d grown so much. He was a man now but there were often times Rosinante couldn’t help but see him as a child. Shrink him down a number of feet and he could have been ten again with as stubbornly sullen as he looked. Not that Law hadn’t had plenty of cause to be sullen, but Rosinante did sometimes wish he’d make more of an effort to smile from time to time. The boy’s face was really going to stick like that someday.

“I had two patients with life threatening injuries and then I had to work overtime to get here as soon as possible. I haven’t exactly had time, you know,” Law said with a tone he usually reserved for Trebol. It was a voice that said he thought he was speaking to someone who was being exceptionally dull.

Rosinante frowned at him in turn, disregarding the pain it caused to do so. You’re back now. He resisted the urge to add a request for Law not to take that tone with him. One of them would be an adult here.

Law’s eyes flicked over to his bed a few times. His hands absently fingered at his bangs in a sure sign that he was unconsciously hoping for his hat. It was a habit he’d never managed to grow out of, even though he usually didn’t wear it these days. Not having his hat to hide beneath, he turned around once more.

“I tried to sleep, alright? It didn’t stick,” he said.

Rosinante waited for an explanation that didn’t come. Law had to be absolutely exhausted if he hadn’t gotten a single good night’s sleep in weeks. It was amazing he didn’t just keel over on the spot. Law did excel at existing on spite alone but this was pushing it, even for him.

Rosinante placed a hand on Law’s back and found it was trembling. He rubbed soothing circles and waited. He wanted to demand Law tell him what was wrong. The urge would always be there, to search out all of Law’s ills and try to cure them through stubbornness alone if he had to. However, there were times to talk, to push, and then there were times to wait. Getting Law to open up about anything was so often a game of patience. If it was up to him, he’d bottle up his emotions until that bottle burst and destroyed him. Rosinante wasn’t especially inclined to let that happen.

Law became so still that Rosinante might have suspected he’d nodded off if not for the irregularity of his breathing. Rosinante stilled, also, and waited.

“Every time I try to sleep,” Law said, “I see you. I see Doflamingo with your heart and all the things he might do to you because of me.”

“Not because of you.”

Law looked up at him. “Your voice—”

“My voice be damned,” Rosinante all but growled. “And Doffy be damned. This is on him.”

Law’s face fell. “I didn’t have to give in. I could have resisted more. I should have. And I didn’t have to act on some stupid fucking impulse at Marineford. I’ve been so careful. I threw out over a decade of work and for what? Some kid who thought he could take on the entire World Government and a rival Warlord. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking you could help,” Rosinante said. “You saved their lives.”

“Their lives aren’t as important as yours.”

Rosinante didn’t try to dispute that. He knew it wouldn’t do any good. And besides, he knew the feeling. He’d burn the world down if it meant keeping Law safe.

Instead of arguing, he knelt down and pulled Law into a tight embrace. Law’s breath hitched. All the emotion he’d stubbornly shoved down finally broke through and he started to cry in earnest. Even someone as bullheaded as Law had his limits. Rosinante was only glad to be there to hold Law together so he didn’t break apart.

“I’m proud of you,” Rosinante murmured.

There had rarely been truer words. He’d been scared for Law’s sake, of course, but he’d been so proud when Law first called him to say what he’d done. There were times, despite all his faith in Law, where he worried this life would be too much. It would be easy for Law to let this all change him. Perhaps it would even be better for him if he did. Less painful, certainly. But when he had a chance to show who he really was on the inside, he’d done something amazing. Something neither he nor Doflamingo nor even Rosinante himself had expected.

Not that Law would hear any of that. “You shouldn’t be,” he muttered.

Rosinante rested his cheek on top of unruly black hair. “Well, I am.”

“Well, you’re an idiot.”

Rosinante laughed and pulled Law closer. “Maybe. But I can be an idiot and rightfully proud of you, kid. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

Law let out a strangled sound that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t been so drowned in tears. Then, in a voice so quiet Rosinante had to strain to hear, he said, “Then I’ll try not to let you down. Idiot.”

#one piece #one piece au #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #corazon!law #corazon #donquixote rosinante #donquixote rocinante #one piece corazon #fic

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years

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BTS' Jung Kook on 'Dynamite,' Loving ARMY, and Learning From Ariana Grande

"During the training years, I'd wait until the other guys had fallen asleep so I could wash up by myself in the middle of the night," says the singer

We’ve known each other for so long,” J-Hope recently told BTS’ youngest member, Jung Kook, 23. “And I love how you haven’t changed at all.” More than any other member, Jung Kook grew up in BTS; he was only 15 when the group debuted in 2013, and he’d been famous for years by the time he graduated high school, with the other members attending the ceremony. With formidable singing and dancing skills, he’s always been a born pop star, with multiple agencies trying to recruit him as early as 2011. Since then, he’s more than fulfilled his promise, playing a key role on BTS’ biggest songs, including “Dynamite.” In a conversation from his label’s Seoul headquarters, where he wore a plain white sweatshirt with a matching white mask and a black bucket hat, he discussed making “Dynamite,” his vocal evolution, his Ariana Grande fandom, and more.

On the recent Let’s BTS TV special, I thought it was really beautiful when you were surprised with the videos of ARMY singing along to “Life Goes On,” and it looked like you were moved as well. Did it remind you of how much you missed seeing fans in person? I’m a person that really loves to be onstage and really loved hearing from our fans, so when our tour got canceled in March last year, it was a bit of a shock and it was kind of hard to take in. The roar of crowds and of ARMY is something we loved. And when we do TV programs or promotions, it gets our heart racing and makes us long for it more and more. And as you said, on Let’s BTS with the “Life Goes On” performance, when we heard ARMY taking part through the internet, that reminded us of the actual roar of the crowd. It made me miss it even more.

How has it affected you to essentially grow up within BTS? I started my trainee years when I was growing up, and one thing I think is a real blessing for me is I got to meet these wonderful, nice, good six members. I think I matured into a really good person that can be loved by a lot of people. I’m really grateful for the fact that other members, the older members, have given me a lot of feedback, positive or negative. I’m really grateful to have met them.

Do you ever wonder about what you may have missed from ordinary life? It’s true I couldn’t spend a lot of days at school, but I think I gained more than I lost. I sometimes felt envious of all my friends hanging out or going on a trip. Maybe those are the things that I missed. But again, I think I gained more than I’ve lost.

Was this past year maybe a chance to live more normally for you? Just because we didn’t have a lot of work compared to before, or just because we couldn’t go outside, it really didn’t mean we had ordinary life. We still had to be cautious of our behavior. And just because we couldn’t go on tours, it didn’t mean we could stop improving. So I tried to discover new things and I think I spent a relatively busy time inside. But I did have some time to really rearrange my emotions, and I think I grew up as a person as well.

People call you “golden” because you’re good at so many things. But as you’ve said before, that comes with a lot of pressure, doesn’t it? People say that I excel, that I’m an all-rounder. Of course I excel in some areas, but I don’t think it necessarily helps to bask in those talents and gifts. You can only improve in a certain area when you really practice, when you really try, when you deep-dive into it. So I really don’t want to think myself as an all-rounder. I just want to keep trying and working hard. And of course I do feel pressure, but those pressures can also drag me to work hard and do best at what I do.

You had offers from multiple agencies, but you chose Big Hit because of RM. What did you see in him? I can’t clearly remember what happened at the time, but I just simply thought that RM was really cool. At that time, I really didn’t know a lot about being a singer. But when I saw him rap, I just thought he was really, really cool and awesome. And I believe maybe it was fate that drew me to him.

I talked about this with J-Hope as well, but it’s very interesting to look at the early style of BTS, both the clothing and the music, and see how it evolved. What do you think when you look back at those early songs and videos? When we first debuted, we had kind of fierce makeup, with our eyeliner and stuff, and dark outfits, fierce-looking outfits. At that time, our company was relatively small and we couldn’t put a lot of budget into the outfits. But now we devote a lot of time and we hold a lot of meetings to choose the outfits and the style that would go well with the songs and the album. So I think the visual aspect is really important. The song, the dance — every individual aspect is really important.

Can you share some memories of recording “Dynamite”? I thought I was getting these lines out correctly and pronouncing them well, but as we were recording and practicing, I realized there were still things I needed to work on. My pronunciation was not that good. My tongue just wasn’t loose enough to really get these English words out! But the more we practiced, the more we sang, the song became more familiar, and became more natural. So it was a good learning experience for me.

The song “Euphoria” is one of your best moments. I know it’s already a few years ago, but what do you remember about putting that one together? I specifically like “Euphoria” among many BTS songs because it has a voice that’s between a very young boy and a very mature man. And that’s why I had a tough time recording it. I had to translate those emotions into the recording, and I went into it thinking that I have lost my original voice and I really didn’t know how to sing. And I think those emotions I felt translated well into the recording. After listening to the whole thing, I was like, “Wow, I really did a good job.”

What other artists have given you something to aspire to? If there is one moment that really stayed with me, it was when we went on one of our overseas tours, and I had a chance to go to an Ariana Grande concert. I was really impressed by her stage presence. She’s a very small person, and the volume of her singing and what she was able to do was really moving, really impressive. And it just seemed like something I wanted to emulate and learn from. It made me want to develop and continue to grow.In general, I’ve tried to listen to a lot of different music. To really find the voice that I have right now, I listened to random music and just tried to sing along and learn how other artists sing.

The other guys have said that when you were young, when you first started, you were a little bit shy and introverted. What do you remember about that? [Laughs] During the training years, I’d wait until the other guys had fallen asleep so I could wash up by myself in the middle of the night. But I think time really solves everything. If you spend such a long time with the same people, it really affects your personalities. The other members had a lot of influence on me, and I could just feel comfortable because they are such good people. And they encouraged me to open up to them and mature into a good person.

Out of all these years so far, what has been the most mind-blowing moment? Topping the [U.S.] charts, being nominated for the Grammys, getting all those awards, were of course great honors and great experiences. But the best moment in my life, from when I was born until I die, is seeing ARMY from the stage. And that will never change.

#bangtan #jungkook #m:rolling stone #o:interview #210517

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dropsofletters · 3 years

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you feel like magic.

— summary: byun baekhyun offers the nicest services for anyone who needs it—call certain number and be prepared to spend the best night of your life with a call boy, ready to meet the expectations of your wildest dreams. the golden star of his business, kim jongin, also known as kai when seducing his clients, thinks there is more to it, much more when he accidentally gets a call from someone who doesn’t know about his call boy ways. is sex really everything in this era?

— title: you feel like magic — pairing: kim jongin x reader — genre: call boy!au ; web designer!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; meeting through the phone!au ; meet cute!au ; slice of life!au — type: fluff ; angst ; suggestive ; drama ; romance — word count: 12,910

His sweetener tongue meets the roof of his mouth, plush lips parted to welcome the coldness of the night. It’s at moments like this that he wishes to be like the walkers by this horrid side of the city, sporting long coats and hands hidden in the depths of his pockets; perhaps, they rush out of their nine-to-five jobs, seeking for the warmth of their homes once they reach them. Jongin lets his shiny boots roam over the concrete-made sidewalk, kicking a rock to make it roll to the center of the street. A lonesome moment leaves the pebble in tranquility before a car moves it further away, or dissipates it into the thin air. He doesn’t know anymore.

What he knows is how to keep the buttons of his shirt opened enough to capture the glimpses of a few women, four to be exact, rushing to stay away from the cold night that ventures into the possible rain that has yet to appear. They cup their mouths to speak beneath themselves, and he takes this moment to run his fingers through his bleached blonde locks, barely sending a smile before they widen their eyes and laugh beneath themselves. Not his usual clients, but he’s made to charm people, right?

The leather of his pants rubs against his thighs, doing nothing to protect him as he waits for a fancy car, perhaps a expensive-looking woman to pull up in front of him and invite him to the nearest hotel. Made to please those who pay him, is how Kim Jongin would describe himself. A mess of seduction that ended up in various sheets just because of his words. Visual matters aside, the real key to getting someone to have the time of their lives while laying in bed and trusting another person with sex comes with the talent of speaking. Dulcet, sweet, with the right amount of spice and a vibrato after his tone. Goofiness aside and exchanged for something desirable—never quite enough to sedate, for he wants his clients to see him one more time.

One more time means more money.

It means a recurrent client.

That, in the call boy world, simply translates to a phrase: sex sells and you have to make them obsessed with your sex, your shared nights, whatever it is that they desire.

The few sprinkles of rain fall when he takes his phone out of his pocket, the black device matching his clothing and the grayness of the night, a little bit over ten and yet, left abandoned to wait for whoever the fuck knows how long. What he needs right now is some money for the week, the recognition that comes with a newcomer, and the promise of excellently paid nights that had been the only thing his boss, Baekhyun, had talked about for the entirety of the afternoon.

Instead, his phone lights up with an unknown number, calling him at the peak of night. It’s rare for clients to call him directly—hell, and he doesn’t even think about the option of a real hook-up calling him. Jongin hasn’t had one of those in a while; maybe over eight months, if not more. Something about sex isn’t quite as appealing anymore, at least, not in his personal life. Not in his free time.

Byun Baekhyun, with his black hair and big pockets filled with money coming from the men he assesses, wouldn’t man up enough to give his number around. He had done it in the past; something about a new way of making money he had been speaking about (“Seriously, Jongin.” The man had said at the time, crossing one leg over the other as he sat on the edge of his pristine glassed desk. “Phone sex is the new it-thing. People are just too busy to spend hours having sex…or, I don’t know, you could sext people? I’m sure you can make your dick look nice for a picture.”), but he never pulled through with it. Too personal, as well as too risqué—someone could record him, send the pictures to someone else, taint his name as a call boy (if he can even do that, he’s already socially tainted), and if that’s what he wanted, he would’ve been a porn star instead.

He could just ignore it.

But there, in that dangerous side of the crowded city, with his back pressed to a concrete wall, hiding in the shadows, he finds nothing better to do. If the call is some woman trying to get inside his pants, he may as well ask her to meet up with him and just get tonight’s worth in money. Clearing his throat, he lifts his eyebrows, using his arm to support the elbow thanks to his lifted hand, speaking into the phone with certainty.

“Hello, who’s this?” Jongin doesn’t have time to lose, tranquility and sweetness long exchanged for something more serious. The timbre of his voice remains seductive, knowing the difference between his character as a call boy and who he really is. Kai promises a good night, while Jongin thinks a good night is being able to crash in his bed without having to worry about getting out at midnight and fucking someone. And doing good at it, which is even worse. It’s not as easy as people make it out to be.

“Oh, you don’t sound like a girl.”

The voice is much too innocent, one would call it aloof, and with the rain pouring down on him, he can only hide beneath the smallest roof, looking at the droplets of rain that pool by his feet. It’s not the first time someone has called him with that tone, as if she’s ready to get over the pure side of her and exchange it for something else, but it is the first time someone tells him he doesn’t sound like a girl, as a sentence starter at that.

“I’m not one, that’s why.” Jongin breathes out, eyes widening when he sees a car pull up in front of the street, he finds himself in. However, a man rushes out of one of the buildings and enters the platinum car, leaves with a harsh pull of the door, and the car pulls off. “Were you looking for a girl?”

“I’m—Uh, I was trying to call my friend Hyuna.” The woman on the other end breathes out. “Are you her boyfriend?”

A girlfriend. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, and it’s mostly his fault. How does one tell the woman they love that he is a call boy? That each night, when he said he was going out to work, he went out with other women to be able to give himself a respectable life? The way his ex’s face fell when she discovered everything, from his job to how it started, still replays in his head from time to time. An asshole, he has been, and yet, he doesn’t have enough time in his life to sit down and regret it, tearfully reminiscent of the way his entire world had changed.

“Unless I have a girlfriend I don’t know about, I would tell you you’ve got the wrong number, sweetie.” He doesn’t know why the last part slips from his tongue. Maybe, because something in her tone tells him that she is having a bad night, just like him, one of those moments where it feels like everyone lives their lives correctly, and you’re the only one that hasn’t quite fit in the adult world.

“Oh.” She breathes out, the sound of a door closing following her statement before she clears her throat. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“I think it is.” And he should leave it at that, but given that his ‘date’ for the night is nowhere in fucking sight, he may embark in some conversation with the melancholy made woman over the phone. “Did you need anything from your friend?”

For a moment, she pauses, hesitating, and Jongin really thinks he has fucked it up. You see, small talk is not normally something he takes part on unless someone pays really well. He goes out to dinner, holds their hands for a while, makes them feel beautiful and then, he’s off towards the natural route. Sex in whatever way his client wanted. “…Kind of…” She breathes out, a ragged sigh following her statement. “I mean, I hoped that we could have a girl chat, but I’m over here talking to some stranger while I can’t even talk to the love of my life—”

Oh, someone who likes to rant. He hasn’t met one of those since the afternoon when Baekhyun was talking wonders about the client that has yet to appear. He doesn’t know if he still likes it. “You can’t talk to your significant other?”

“That’s the thing, he’s not my significant other.” Well, this is taking the casual route of ‘high school problems that shouldn’t be present in adult life, but for some people, they do’. “I’ve been in love with him since college and, uh, well, now we’re very much graduated, very much into our adult lives and he just started working at my workplace after years of not seeing him. And he’s single. H—Hot, too.”

See?

This is the issue one would have in high school, when you’re a teen and you don’t know better, meaning that Jongin should be laughing at this matter. Cackling at the stutter in her tone, had he not found it refreshing. Have people continued to be adorable in this era, or is it just her?

“Did he make a move on you in college?”

“Kind of.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, Donghae was not quite ready for a relationship then, so…I didn’t even try to continue the flirting. We just became friends.”

“Has he made a move now?”

“…No…”

“Then, show him who’s boss and who’s taking the reins now. You have more balls than him and you get to make the shots. Nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants and gets it.” Jongin looks over to the street one last time, a small smile appearing on his face when he sees a woman over her forties getting out of a red convertible. That stage of unknowingness that comes with the forties doesn’t only affect men, he thinks, but by the way she quirks an eyebrow, wrinkles a little bit more prominent than his usual client, and how she licks her red lips, he knows he won’t have to do much.

“Oh, wow, I would’ve never thought about it that way. H—How do you know so much about relationships?”

Jongin starts walking, one leg in front of the other as he gets drenched in rain. If he’s lucky, that will get him naked sooner, and the job will be over before he knows it, able to go back home and have a nice night of sleep. “Well, baby,” He whispers, a smile on his face. “You’ve just called a call boy. I know what both women and men find sexy. One, because I’m a man. Two, because I go out with a lot of women.”

“Fuck no?” She questions, and Jongin has to chuckle at her tone.

“You swear?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sounds cute in your voice, honey, but—” He speaks into the speaker, getting closer to his client of the night. “I really have to hang up. I have a client, you see.”

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” Though, he feels like laughing at that moment—something he doesn’t do often when he’s in the job, more like he has never done such thing, but soon after, their communication cuts short with a brief goodbye. “Thanks for the advice…I didn’t get your name.”

“Kai.” Though, he says it to the woman in front of him as well, extending his hand for her to take before he presses the pillows of his lips to her knuckles. A classic for older women.

Just at that, he hangs up, putting his phone inside his pocket before speaking again.

“Owe me a phone for being late, young lady.” He speaks up, biting down on his lip when the woman chuckles.

“With that smile I’ll buy you two, hon.”

That’s always better.

###

What connects Baekhyun and Jongin is that they were once both strippers. Not at the same time. Not under the same circumstances. And definitely not with the same conclusions. Baekhyun ended up with his own call-boy business, with men he recruited from his group of friends or from strip-clubs, never once tangling himself in the sheets of other women, becoming a husband and a magnate after dancing on tables and poles. Now, that’s a good ending.

His white denim jacket remains open, abdomen in full display as he hooks his fingers on the necklace around his neck. He knows what he is doing—these parties that Baekhyun invites him to go to are simple business moves. Jongin looks more like a boy-next-door, easy hook-up, an Angel in Hell, when he’s in the strip-clubs. Stealing someone’s clients’, for sure, but also embarking those clients that don’t know much about him. It makes Baekhyun earn more; it gives him the benefit of looking like a party-goer and getting more money than intended. Life is good when they attend these big events with heirs over heirs fighting just for some love.

The bass thrums against his ribcage, the hands of some woman ending up on his belt, his plump lips parting to connect with her pink mouth, tongue coming forward just the slightest as his hand becomes one with her neck, thumb touching the column of her throat and stealing a breath away from her. Smaller than him, definitely a bit above twenties, wearing a golden dress that she had talked about when they had just met—Louis Vuitton, something of the like, but Jongin prefers Gucci, in his own opinion. His client for the night, now fully aware of the call boy he is, sucks on his bottom lip, cornering him against the entrance door, the red lights of the strip club shadowing him, the white ones falling on the women and men scattered across the stage, all in their own poles.

She pushes her gray hair off her shoulders, when the elongated strands are moved away, he can see the figure in her eyes, grasping his fingertips to tighten his hold around her neck. “Where’s the nearest hotel, call boy?”

“Like twenty minutes away.”

Hwa groans from the back of her throat, the necklace around her neck swinging to glisten its diamonds right at his face. Oh, money, that’s what everyone loves, ain’t it? “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“I can do the job in the car, but the prices are higher for lack of comfort.” Jongin jokes around, though he’s using his eyes to his favor. A glisten of those almond-shaped majesties and he can get everything he wants. “But I can wait for you, Hwa.”

The woman takes her keys out of her bag, shaking her head at his antics. “No, Kai. I’m getting you in that car as soon as possible and you’re doing your job. I can’t wait.”

You see, when Jongin was younger, something like twenty and twenty-one, he would’ve loved this kind of response. He used to love having someone for a month, rubbing that spot of romance before letting it go for lust. It was fun, until it wasn’t. Until working as a bartender had developed into something stronger—being promised to dance, ending up taking his shirt off in front of everyone, making appearances in bachelorette parties, translated into women wanting to be with him. With taxes to pay and a roof to maintain, Jongin promised himself he’d do it once—once to get a ring for his then girlfriend. Once and it would be over.

Once.

Once and a thousand times.

Once.

Once and then, again.

Hwa swings her hips as she tries to find her car in the parking lot, and Jongin follows suit. He takes the time to button his jacket up, the glances of a few partygoers getting through him. When it’s out under the lights like this, he doesn’t feel quite as confident. People judge him for what he does, he knows this, but when he’s left in the shadows, existing in solitude, the smoke waving his vision into nothingness, it’s all he has to do. Easy money to live the life that makes him feel more complete; beer in the freezer ready for him to take when he’s stressed, an apartment bigger than the one he used to have, and all his taxes paid.

A white car opens its doors when she presses the red button on the keys, a big smile appearing on her face when Jongin leans forward and captures her lips once again. What does he have to think about to feel better? He always tells himself this is going to be the last client, but it’s never the case. It doesn’t feel better to kiss someone else, to end up in whatever surface doing the nastiest thing he can imagine.

It’s not fun anymore.

Was it ever fun to start with?

His phone rings inside his jeans, making him frown as he tries to concentrate on the kiss. It must be Baekhyun trying to ask him how he’s doing, but after one missed call, the phone rings again. This time around, Hwa pulls away, looking at him with a scrunch of her nose before rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t you going to get it?” Annoyance rips from her throat and Jongin sighs. That’s why someone as pretty as her goes to a call boy, maybe, because that attitude of hers definitely isn’t a good thing. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he stares at the unknown number that somehow feels so familiar to him. Another sigh rips from his throat when he puts his phone up to his ear, speaking into the speaker with intent.

“Hello?”

“Kai!” The cheery, pure, somehow adorable tone in the other end almost has him pressing red, but instead, he tries to hide the smile on his face. “Uh…how are you doing?”

“I’m at the job, honey.” He replies, something that doesn’t quite settle well with Hwa, pushing at his belt and trying to get him closer to her. Pushy bitch. “Is there anything you need? Why did you call me again? Thought it was Hyuna?”

The golden skin of the back of his neck creates goosebumps when she chuckles softly, falling into soft silence. “I actually needed advice. You know, from someone who knows much more about the subject than me. But, if you’re busy—”

Somehow, he can’t bring himself to say no. This is the only person that looks for him without actually looking at him. If she’s interested in talking, it’s because that’s the actual truth.

“Baby, I can call you later if you really need to, but right now, I’m trying to earn some money…”

“Y—Yeah! I understand!”

Hwa doesn’t understand, however, pushing herself off him with a hiss coming directly from her pretty lips. Not all that shines is gold. “Listen, you bitch, are you going to fuck me or not?”

You know, Jongin works for money. There is no way in hell that he enjoys being someone’s toy, having Baekhyun direct him the clients that he’s going to grasp, sending him to parties, putting his life at risk by sleeping with married women, taken women, women who don’t take care of themselves sexually and so on and so forth. He’s done things that he would have never thought about liking in his sexual life, all for the sake of having some green in his vision. Though, at this very moment, all he can see is red.

He’s not a toy. Much less Hwa’s.

“You know what? I’m leaving.” Jongin replies softly, taking her hands out of his jacket before huffing into the phone.

“Kai!” Hwa calls out for him, and he hears the sound of a high heel falling on the floor. Someone had just thrown a high-heel at him. “Kai, get the fuck back here! Do you want your money, bitch?”

“I’ve already got money.” He answers, turning around to look at her as they talk. “Thank you, though. I’m sure someone will gladly take it, but it’s not me.”

Life had never felt quite as liberating as that moment, when the breeze doesn’t bite at his naked chest and he can finally let go of a night without feeling used. The expensive cars are left behind him when he walks towards the street, hiding himself in between the groups of people after such drama. “Oh my—What just happened?” Just then, he remembers he is on a call, and he can only chuckle at the sound of this woman’s voice. This stranger that just made him lose a client, and he can’t bring himself to care.

“Clients are rarely good to me, you know?” Jongin spits out, losing himself in the city for a second, listening to the cars passing by and the people talking beneath themselves. Somehow, with this phone call, he feels like a normal person. “But, enough about me. What kind of advice did you need?”

“The sexy kind.”

Jongin laughs at her antics, at the whisper of her statement and the way he can hear the TV on the background of her call. “Oh, so you come to the call boy because he’s more knowledgeable about sexy stuff?”

“I don’t know you, Kai, but I know you’re a thousand times sexier than me.” She initiates, only to continue with her train of thought soon after. “I am always in an office, wearing a hoodie, looking at pictures of men on Instagram and liking them intensely. I just can’t do sexy.”

“Why not?” Jongin questions, a smile petrified on his face. “Being sensual is all about acting. No one is sensual naturally.”

“Lies.”

“What?”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s the truth!” It has been a while since he has raised his voice from his usual deep tone. It’s the kind of voice he speaks to his friends in, but not the one he uses with women. Something must be different about this one. “Do you really think people go around biting their lips, flexing their muscles, talking all deep, and all that shit? That’s an act. I’m an act.”

“But that’s the problem…” The whine in her tone has him turning to the corner, needing the walk as well as getting home. He’s not going back to that strip-club. “I need to be sexy to get Donghae’s attention.”

“What? No. Sexy doesn’t cut it. If sexy is all that cuts it for him, he’s…he’s wanting you for the wrong reason.” Jongin thinks back to the last time he had gone out on a date. Beautiful stylish, a lover of coffee and elongated readings. She put too much cream on her strawberries and then, would hide away from him. Excuse him, but holding onto her waist, onto the imperfections that made her real, made him feel like the connection was stronger. “You know? A real man, the one that you should give the time of the day to, wouldn’t mind seeing you in a hoodie or with a crop top. He will look at your ass, but will also love your eyes.”

She cackles at his antics, and he imagines her shaking her head. Perhaps, she’d look somewhat plain—the kind of beauty that blends in the background but is enchanting in its own way. “I just want to be sexy, that’s all. I want him to desire me…because I kind of texted him thanks to you and I think we’re going to meet up outside of work.”

“Like a date?”

“…I guess so. Is it a date?” She speaks to herself and he wants to ask her to stop. That voice will be the death of him, like ice cream cake—dulcet but freezing him at the same time.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Ugh, I guess…” She replies, sighing deeply. “But I don’t know. What do men like? Low cut shirts? Boobs? Ass? Both?”

“Men love confidence.” Jongin tells her, trying to reassure her. “Just know that how you look doesn’t matter and wearing a sexy shirt is not worth a thing if you don’t feel good using it. Besides, if he really thinks you’re hot, he’s going to think you’re hot as long as you’re comfortable.”

“You’re just saying that—”

“You want to have his attention?” Jongin interrupts, getting closer to his apartment complex by the minute. Still, it’s perhaps twenty more minutes of walking. “Like, my only advice here would be to tease him. Flirt with him but then, cut it short. Let’s say you’re kissing him, and he leans in for more, just smile at him and ask him—” He clears his throat then, going back to his seductive tone. “Why should I keep kissing you? What’s there for me if I do?”

For a moment, she stays silent, maybe pondering, but then, a shuddering breath leaves her. “…Now I know why you have so many clients. That was hot.”

“And you didn’t even see me while saying so. I could be the farthest thing from your type right now, and you wouldn’t even now. You didn’t even see my boobs and you still thought I was hot while speaking.” A blush creeps up on his face, and he doesn’t even know why. It’s been the longest time since heat has appeared within him from mere words.

She laughs at his antics soon after, melodious, like she gives all the cares to this world and yet, doesn’t hold grudges for how badly it treats her. “You have nice boobies?”

“Ah, uh—” Taken aback, his laughter comes out high pitched. “Somewhat.”

“Somewhat…” She whispers, a brief chuckle coming after that. “Thank you for the advice, Kai.”

“You’re very welcome.” He replies, though, he stops her before she could say her goodbyes. “But you could thank me by telling me your name?”

It’s unfair, he knows it. To her, he’s Kai. He’s not Kim Jongin, a dancer that ended up being a stripper out of need, out of lies that were told to him, crafted especially for people like him. But it doesn’t feel quite as unfair when she says it with honesty, perfect for saying it out loud. Like a poem, like a song.

“…Good night, Kai.”

“Good night, baby.”

And he doesn’t know why he wishes she would say: Good night, Jongin.

###

While laying down on Baekhyun’s couch, he swings his legs back and forth, his stomach fully pressed to the blanket on top of the brown leather. His cheek is squished against the fabric, though, a small hand presses further into his free cheek until his lips pucker up, pressing a wet peck to his mouth. With his eyebrows very lifted and a flutter of his chest, he hears Baekhyun speaking from his kitchen, stopping all chances of snooping at what his wife is making for dinner to send a glare towards his eleven-months-old daughter.

“Choonhee, what do you think you’re doing?” Baekhyun, who is normally lively and over the moon to make people laugh, now has his hands placed on his hips, strutting over to his daughter to stare down at her. Their eyes are fairly similar or, at least, to how Baekhyun’s eyes looked in those pictures he displays on his coffee table, where he was much younger and less of a mess. Jongin will always say Choonhee is far more adorable, and maybe, that’s thanks to her mother, Lia. “You don’t kiss me but you kiss Uncle Jongin?”

Choonhee makes grabby hands at her father, and Baekhyun relishes on the feeling of being needed, forgetting his attire of a businessman and basically the manager of over twelve call-boys to something simpler. Jeans and a white t-shirt, as if he’s in his early twenties. “Dada.” She utters softly, the only thing she can manage to say, and when Baekhyun puckers up his lips, she pulls away.

It’s almost one of those silent comedies they used to watch in the sixties.

“You get all the ladies, and you also get my daughter. It’s unfair.” Baekhyun speaks out, a dramatic turn on his heels making him sit down on the couch across from him. For someone whose bank account is well filled thanks to his business, his home is a little bit on the warmer side. Beige tones, a lot of yellows, and a bunch of pictures of his family and friends. Jongin could find himself somewhere in there if he looks close enough.

Jongin sits up then, extending his arms over his head before clearing his throat. “I always said I would like some children of my own.”

Baekhyun’s legs is bouncing his daughter rapidly, smiling at her after he made a few mocking faces. “You’d make a great father, that’s for sure.”

If only he had a different life. If he could date people freely, or do something else that isn’t feeling like a marionette. Jongin looks at the ceiling, then off to Lia, whose black hair is wrapped tightly in a low bun, wearing baggy clothing and humming one of Baekhyun’s songs under her breath. They love each other, and he can’t have what they created. Not with anyone. “…It would be easier if I just quit.”

His boss stops his motions with his daughter, his face falling in concern when he looks over at his friend. “I—Jongin, didn’t you like your job? You’ve always been one of the best members of our business.”

It’s not about being the best, it’s about how he feels like the worst person while doing it. “I’m tired of it, Baek. It just…sucks. You don’t know because you don’t do it—”

“We used to work on the same thing—”

“One thing is dancing on poles, another thing is…you know…” Jongin trails his voice, concern lingering on Baekhyun’s face as he thinks.

“So, you came here to quit?”

“I came here to talk about it with you.” Jongin replies, cracking his knuckles while he puts his arms down. “I—I would like to pull away from this mess I got myself into, but I wouldn’t know how to start again. I don’t have a resume; I don’t have a reputation as a dancer. I’m just some…call boy.”

Life should feel like each breath brings him closer to a happy ending, not like his lungs only bring him further into a life he can’t control. His time has elongated into torture, and he can’t stand it one minute longer. Choonhee is playing with the brown strands of her dad’s hair, pulling it to various sides, and yet, he doesn’t react.

“I’ll find you a job. As some dance teacher or something, I don’t know. You do well with ballet, I think.” Baekhyun answers, blinking rapidly. “But if you want some good money, I could give you a grand finale. Find a client that would give you so much cash that you wouldn’t have to worry for a while. That is, until you find the job of your dreams.”

“One last time?” Jongin ponders, licking the inside of his cheek.

“For old time’s sake.”

Jongin’s phone vibrates inside his pocket, and before he takes it out, he nods delicately. “Only if it’s nothing extreme. Just one final goodbye with some good money, and in a good place. I’m tired of cramped cars and stupid hotels.”

Baekhyun lifts his hands in the air, laughing joyfully. “Damn princess, what else do you want? Satin sheets? A pretty girl?”

“Baek—”

“Okay, alright. I got it. I’ll take all your conditions into consideration.” Baekhyun says, puckering his lips once again to try and steal a kiss from his daughter, and his groan is enough of an answer. “Choonhee! Kiss! Come on, kiss dada!”

His phone screen welcomes him from a series of texts from a number he had saved two weeks ago, under a name he wouldn’t want to forget even if he tried.

To: Kim Jongin.

Hello, Kai!

How have you been?

As polite as ever, he can imagine her sweet tone speaking directly into his ear. Heaven in hell.

From: Kim Jongin.

I’m doing great, baby.

How are you?

To: Kim Jongin.

Fine. Thank you for asking!

Then, the line falls eerily silent.

From: Kim Jongin.

May I help you with something?

To: Kim Jongin.

I have a sexy question.

From: Kim Jongin.

There’s nothing less sexy than saying sexy question.

To: Kim Jongin.

Sexy question.

Sexy.

Question.

S-E-X-Y.

Q-U-E-S-T-I-O-N.

From: Kim Jongin.

Donghae’s lucky.

To: Kim Jongin.

You remember his name!

From: Kim Jongin.

I sadly have good memory for stupid things.

What’s the sexy question?

To: Kim Jongin.

I’m too shy to say it.

From: Kim Jongin.

…Really.

Are you really?

To: Kim Jongin.

I’m in Donghae’s bathroom as of this moment.

Hiding.

Well, not hiding.

Googling stuff.

From: Kim Jongin.

What kind of stuff?

The picture that pops soon after has him widening his eyes. It’s a screenshot of her current situation, looking up on Google how to suck someone off, and at that very moment, he looks up. Choonhee is still in Baekhyun’s lap, and Baekhyun is chatting with Lia peacefully. Somehow, he feels like a teenager hiding his screen from his parents. He wouldn’t hear the day of it if Baekhyun realized he was talking to someone and giving them sex advice.

From: Kim Jongin.

How old are you again?

To: Kim Jongin.

26.

From: Kim Jongin.

And you’re googling this.

Oh.

My.

God.

How?

Why?

Wait, how?

What?

Are you sucking him off right now?

Ew.

Or yay?

To: Kim Jongin.

Stop spamming me, please.

I’m on the verge of throwing myself out of the bathroom’s window.

But it’s too goddamned tiny.

From: Kim Jongin.

Haha.

If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to do it.

To: Kim Jongin.

I thought I wanted to.

But it’s too complicated.

I haven’t done that…ever…

His eyebrows raise, enough to capture Lia’s attention that is flipping something on a pan when she asks: “Jongin, are you okay?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m just reading an article…Don’t mind me.”

“You’re staying over for dinner, right?”

“O—Of course.” Though, his eyes divert towards the screen once again. So, the beautiful voice behind the phone is much more innocent than he thinks.

What does she think of him as a call boy? Probably that he’s the dirtiest man she knows.

To: Kim Jongin.

Jongin, he’s asking if I’m fine.

Teach me.

Give me tips.

I don’t know.

From: Kim Jongin.

I don’t know eithr!

Either*.

I have never sucked anyone off.

Well, not a…guy.

To: Kim Jongin.

But you’re a guy.

From: Kim Jongin.

And?

To: Kim Jongin.

You should know what men like!

From: Kim Jongin.

I know what I like, not what other men like.

We’re all different.

To: Kim Jongin.

Google said the same thing.

Fuck.

From: Kim Jongin.

Language.

But wait, did you want to do this?

Or what?

To: Kim Jongin.

He asked me to do it.

And isn’t that how things should go?

I’m an adult, after all, and I’ve wanted to be with him since college.

If I lose my chance with him now, he won’t want to go out with me anymore.

Why, oh why, do people enjoy being with absolute shitheads?

From: Kim Jongin.

If you’re not ready, or you don’t know how, he should be totally fine with leaving it for another time.

And if he really wants to see you, he will be alright with not doing anything tonight.

If he’s nice, he’ll go out with you again, doesn’t matter if you suck him off or not.

For a handful of minutes, Jongin gets to eat the precious homemade food in the Byun’s table, small talk filling the space with laughter and warmth, though his eyes always divert to his phone, somewhat expecting that the read message comes with a reply. It’s only twenty minutes into the dinner that his phone lights up again, a message coming through that steals his breath away.

To: Kim Jongin.

I left.

He was bummed, to say the least.

Thank you for your advice!

You’re an angel.

With food-coated hands, he replies.

From: Kim Jongin.

Far from it.

Though, the picture that comes after is a screenshot of their conversation, the most noticeable thing being his name—his call-boy name, Kai, accompanied by an angel emoji by its side.

If only she knew she was the angel in between the two.

###

“When are you going to let me have a piece of that ass, Kim Kai?”

Ling plays with the rips of his jeans as he says those words, and his eyes stop skimming through the pamphlets placed on the coffee table in the waiting room outside of Baekhyun’s office just to look at him. The man has always had some kind of crush towards him—one that had been somewhat imperceptible at the beginning of times, but now had fallen into kind of a joke in between them. With his arms tattooed, his slim body hunching onto itself as he smokes from a cigarette, he knows he is the only person in this entire business that earns more than him.

For, he just has more range. He’ll deal with just about anything and anywhere, too. Tell him to bend himself over in the most ratchet of streets and he’ll do it—for the right price, and with the word of mouth that inherits protection. He’ll deal with women and men equally, though his preference varies depending on the day. Threesomes are more of his thing nowadays, and it gives him twice the money he would have with one person.

It’s a weird thing to say—but Ling is talented. He’s not the type of seductive Jongin’s character is—Kai is a man next door, the kind of guy you just like because he is handsome and it gives you a boost. Who doesn’t want to sleep with someone who everyone desires? Ling, on the other hand, knows what he is doing. The person he is with could be completely blind and still feel all of him. He’s a charmer—he fits himself to the person he is with.

Let’s say his client is insecure about that one mole on their left ass-cheek. He’ll make them feel good about it. No doubt they won’t ever doubt their attractiveness after being with him.

“How about never?” He replies, a bit of sassiness in his tone as he picks up the book the clients are introduced to when asking for their services. When he opens the first page, he sees the younger generation of call boys. Towards the latest page, Ling and Jongin are showcased perfectly. The gray background makes his golden skin stand out and, at the time, he had brown hair—chocolate rich and ready to make him look like innocence personified. His eyes glisten with malice, while his lips remain serious. How had he believed he’d be happier with this job?

“Don’t say no until you try it.” Ling conquers, taking off his jacket before sighing deeply. “Are you waiting for Baekhyun?”

“Yeah. He said he’d come here thirty minutes ago…but he’s nowhere in sight.”

“That’s weird…that he told you to come here, I mean. He was super busy this morning. One of the newcomers has to get an STD test because he really thought not wearing a condom was a good idea.” Ling takes his phone out of his pocket, probably texting one of his many dates before continuing with the conversation. “Newbies, I guess.”

Jongin frowns deeply. He had never been in that position—but he guesses some people like this job more than others. ��Who is it?”

“The short guy, page three. Not my style, though, too short.” Ling explains with certainty, quirking one of his thin eyebrows. “Were you going to ask Baekhyun about your grand finale?”

“He told you?”

“Everyone knows you’re dropping out of the call boy thing.” He says. “It’s as much of a big deal as when a porn star drops out of porn to live a normal life. You’re the Lana Rhoades of our business, Kai.”

The man can’t help but chuckle at his words, standing up from his seat to get closer to Ling. “Well, I should go if he’s not coming, then—”

“He found you a grand finale, though. I think you’re getting half a million in just one contract.”

Jongin likes money. He likes how green the paper is, the smell of it, and simply the feel of it. One of his most enigmatic nights as a call boy is when he was laying down on a bed filled with money, and the woman had been rich enough to ask him to take all of it—plus his payment, of course. Though, his eyes almost budge out of his head at the sound of that amount of money. Half a million just for a night with him.

“Who the fuck would pay that much?”

“The first woman you slept with when you started, of course. Once you take someone’s whore virginity, it feels special. You’re the one who taught them how to be a whore, after all.”

The first woman he ever slept with as a call boy.

She would be near thirty-nine at this moment, if not older. At the time, when he was twenty-two, she was the owner of a big web designing business. With straight bangs and a skirt that almost reached her ankles, he would’ve never thought of her as the type to ask for a call boy. Though, a bit of a difficult woman—she asked for dinner, some foreplay and after, it was him. Jongin damn right passed out after he came back home. Firstly, he was tired. Secondly, the woman was crazy as all fuck.

He has been asked plenty of crazy things in his history as a call boy. Everyone has their weird quirks; he likes to believe. But the first woman he slept with as a call boy, whose name now slips his head, had been so attached to her ex-husband that he had to roleplay as him.

Roleplay as Jinyoung, he remembers.

He had to call himself Jinyoung, in third person.

And it was horrid.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes!” Ling replies, putting his phone down in the process. “I think I heard Baekhyun say something about a whole routine, though. You’re going to have to be her ex-husband.”

“As in, roleplay?”

“As in, become as close to him physically as humanly possible.”

Some people are really crazy.

“…Is Baekhyun out of his mind?”

Ling cackles at that, standing up at the sound of his phone ringing before taking off outside. “Probably. Maybe. I mean, I don’t think it’s that much of a big deal, but…” Shrugging his shoulders, he opens the door with one brief motion before laughing. “Good luck, Kim Kai. You’ll need it.”

With that, he’s left alone to his thoughts.

One last time.

###

Being physically tired because of dancing is a newfound experience that he used to know so well. His chest heaves as he lays down on his bed, hostage of his bedsheets as he curls his fingertips against the fabrics. There is nothing he would love to do more than close his eyes and nap the night away, but something keeps him up: adrenaline.

Mom used to tell him that he’d know when real passion would come to his doorstep when he felt tired after working. Jongin believes the real kind of love for a job or a hobby comes through when he feels restless. His eyes can’t close, fingertips trailing over his chest in hopes of reducing the beat of his heart to a calm blue, chest still shaking as he turns down the music. The world is silent again.

When he looks at his phone, he reads through his text conversations. Family members. Baekhyun. The text from Baekhyun remains unread, sent three hours ago—

From: Baekhyun.

I already bought the clothing you’re going to wear with Mrs. Kwon.

Practice your best businessman lines.

One more week.

Though, he can’t bring himself to answer right now, jumping away from the text conversation to look through his contacts. Flowers bloom inside of him when he reads her name, Donghae’s not so perfect half, who had not texted him since that last time she had thanked him for being able to slip away from that horrendous date. Over a month and they had not talked, not a single word from her, and definitely not a word from him.

He’s curious about her; perhaps, how she looks like, what she does for a living, who she is.

And it’s at this moment, when he presses the call button, that he realizes just how alone he must feel to do such a thing. Lacking that female character in his life, maybe, or just a new friend.

“O—Kai?”

The surprise in her tone brings a smile to his face, placing his hand behind his head before humming. “That’s me, baby.” He replies, not realizing that he has lowered his voice the slightest until he is looking up at the ceiling. “Am I interrupting something? You sound surprised.”

“No…I was just working after hours. I’m glad you called, actually.” She whispers softly, and he can hear the clicking of a mouse. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t text, but since you knew who I was, I suppose you kept my number.”

“You were super nice to me, why would I delete your number?”

“Are you sure you don’t want my call boy services and that’s why you kept my number?”

“W—What?” The stutter in her tone has Jongin chuckling loudly, perhaps sounding the farthest away from the sexy. “No matter how sexy you sound, Kai, I’m not one for call boys.”

“Good thing I’m not going to be a call boy for much longer…” Jongin trails, a sense of happiness creeping up on him when he hears a whistle from the other end of the phone.

“Are you ending up as a nine-to-five worker like me?” She asks, an elongated sigh following her statement. “Well, it’s not that bad. I look at a computer screen far more than I’d like, and I can tell the difference between Calibri and Arial far too well, but apart from that…there’s some good things.”

“I’m going to be a dancer.” Jongin explains, though, not wanting to divert the attention so much on himself, he talks to her. “What do you do?”

“Web designer.” The answer has Jongin scrunching up his nose. What are the odds of web designing being so huge these days? “I make websites look cool, and then, I get underpaid for it. My boss gets rich, I get poorer.”

Jongin has to agree to that. “My boss is mad rich as well. Not that I don’t earn well…but in comparison to him, I’m on the streets.”

“Asshole.” She spits out, only to have Jongin laughing.

“I get along well with him!”

“No!”

“Yes! He’s a nice dude. We used to be strippers around the same time. Well, he was finishing his career when I was starting and he kind of recruited me.”

He remembers thinking that Baekhyun and Lia were interested in him with how much they frequented the strip club he used to work in. Turns out that Baekhyun only wanted to see his talent before offering him a better deal—he took it, and years later, he’s ready to let go of it. “Didn’t you take a test?”

“What?” Jongin asks, incredulous. “Do you think sex work is like a college application program or something?”

“No, no! But how did your boss know that you were good at…?” She trails her voice, and he imagines her cupping her hand around her mouth and speaker. “At doing the deed?”

He can imagine Baekhyun being asked that question, and the answer would be yelled out of lack of shame (“It’s in the hips!” Baekhyun would say. “Have you seen that man move his hips, bro?”). However, he can’t bring himself to say that. “Usually, if you’re a good dancer…you know how to move…and that’s all there is to…doing the thing.”

“Oh!” Excitement fills her tone then, and he hears her tapping away on her keyboard. “Kai, I didn’t know you danced!”

“If I said I was a stripper, I kind of had to know how to dance.”

“So, are you a pole dancer?”

“Not initially…” He ventures into the world of memories. “I was a jazz dancer at first, then I went for ballet. I can dive into contemporary and just about anything, but pole dancing wasn’t my thing. I learned on the spot.”

“You, my friend, are a box of talents.” She utters. “Women must go crazy over you.”

“They go crazy for Kai.” He replies, a groan at the back of his throat. He doesn’t know when it started to become an insecurity for him—the division of character and the ways they met. There are things in common between Kim Kai and Kim Jongin, after all.

She hums. “Isn’t that your real name?”

“Nope.” He pops the word out. “I can’t use my real name. None of call boys do. It’s to avoid people looking for us, or getting attached, or whatever. There are some crazy clients.”

“May I ask something?”

“Sure…”

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve done while on the job?”

Jongin doesn’t really have to think much about it. He could say all of it—there is something so inherently weird about being paid to have sex with someone he doesn’t even know, in places where he could possibly get murdered in. It’s a bit of trust mixed with luck. “An orgy.”

“What?!” She asks, voice high enough for him to think she’s alone in the office. “Oh my. With how many people?”

“Four apart from me.” Jongin recalls. It was at the beginning of his career, and he can’t say he was proud of it. “I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s uncomfortable and standoffish and it just makes everyone uncomfortable. I saw far more genitals that day than I had intended and it wasn’t fun.”

“Kai…you’re incredible.”

“Am I?” His face heats up at the sound of those words, only to have her humming.

“Only the brave would do that for money. That’s the confidence I want to have.”

“But that’s who, my character, Kai is.” He says into the phone, turning around on the bed to lay on his stomach. “And I want you to get to know the real me.”

“W—With pleasure. Ah, who would that be?”

“Kim Jongin.”

###

The beauty about sexual encounters is how genuine they can be. His job, on one hand, wants to bring the most honest version of sex that can be paid—he’s an actor, if anything, but not a porn actor. Which is why he is used to the normal accommodation of events and dialogues, called improvising in acting terms, but he isn’t used to scripting himself past the character of Kim Kai. One would think that for his last appearance as Kai, the call boy, he would have the reins of the situation on his hands, but Baekhyun had given him a script along with the suit he was going to wear, and a visit to the hairdresser followed suit.

For the afternoon and part of the night, he has to be Jo Jinyoung, Mrs. Kwon’s ex. A man born in a wealthy family who, in real life, had scammed his own wife and managed to get away with thirty percent of her earnings for the next fifteen years—and, for some motherfucking reason that shall remain unknown, Mrs. Kwon’s still wants to bathe in orgasms at the idea of Jo Jinyoung—. Fitted suits and dark hair, his air of confidence has to be changed for one of manipulation. As if he wants the ground, he is walking on to be kissed by his wife, degrading.

It’s uncomfortable. Really. If he could say a few words to Mrs. Kwon, he’d say: you can do much better than whatever you’re imagining is what you deserve.

The doors of the web designing building Mrs. Kwon owns open like the wings of a butterfly, showcasing him in the perfect stance of him with that gray suit. He loosens the black tie around his neck, sending a smile to the receptionist who widens her eyes at him. She fixes the cat-eye glasses that fall down on the bridge of her nose before speaking politely.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Han Designing. May I be of help for you today?”

“Yes, I’m looking for Mrs. Kwon.” Jongin speaks with certainty, his voice a deep timbre, and that’s enough to entice the woman in front of him to lift her phone up to her ear.

“Who would it be?”

“Jo Jinyoung.”

She stops momentarily, because that is a name she had heard before—either from Mrs. Kwon herself or because of the gossip around the office, however, she continues with her job, shrugging her shoulders when she talks to the biggest boss in this building. “Mrs. Kwon, hello, a young man who calls himself Jo Jinyoung is asking to meet up with you. Should I send him over to your office?” A brief set of words from Mrs. Kwon has her changing her features, pressing a button on her computer before humming. “Yes, I’ll cancel your lunch meeting, Mrs. Kwon and I’ll send him over to you.” After hanging up, she points at one of the many elevators by the right, all cladded in gray and glass. “You can go to the twelfth floor, she’ll be there. Her main office has her name written on the door; it should be easy to find.”

“Thank you.”

You know, let’s go back in time for a while. Kim Jongin, aged nineteen, stumbling out of a party with a girl in between his arms—that was the first time he was ever with someone sexually. It didn’t last a thing, two minutes tops, and it was in complete silence in fear that her parents would hear them in her room. The nervousness of being caught, of doing wrong, of being with someone he liked all bundled up together to paralyze him. At this moment, as he enters the elevator and watches the numbers go up, the people surrounding him getting off one by one, he feels like he is about to lose his virginity.

One last time.

Just one fucking last time.

The elevator welcomes him to a new kind of world, passing through a bunch of cubicles to be able to get to that last door—Mrs. Kwon’s office. The older woman was wild enough to ask for their first event of the scheduled program to happen at her office. Apparently, it was one of the many things she did with her then husband. Jongin just has to barge in, pretend to be a total asshole, and probably do her against the desk. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. He has done worse, right?

The movement of his feet is always coordinated, but for some reason, he ends up hitting his little toe with the edge of one of the desks in the cubicles just as he is walking to the main office. A groan rips from his throat, tiny, followed by a hiss that has the person by the desk standing up to check up on him. When he opens his eyes, he first notices a bunch of little action figures—Star Trek or Star Wars, he is guessing here—scattered across a disorganized desk, though when he looks up, he’s met with a pair of beautiful yet worried eyes.

Her eyes glisten enough for him to part his lips in surprise. A gray hoodie clads the upper part of her body, a pair of high waisted pants highlighting the plushness of her thighs. Jongin watches her chapped lips, how pieces of her hair still remain inside the hood of her shirt, but what interests him the most is the sound of her voice—

“Oh my, are you okay?”

That voice he has heard in the peak of the night, when he has nothing else to do. It’s the voice he sometimes hears in voice messages when she is talking over coffee and pastries. It’s the voice he misses when he spends days without talking to her. It’s the woman that accidentally called him once, and now he can’t seem to get enough of. A nice friend, he’d say, but one that doesn’t know him physically at all.

It’s her—it’s the woman who never considered herself to be attractive, yet exudes the kind of beauty that makes him want to pull away. Simplistic. Caring. The kind of person men miss when looking at what’s easiest, when the most difficult of puzzles always give the most gratification.

The woman he has been talking to for the past month is one of Mrs. Kwon’s workers.

“Y—Yes. I’m sorry, I think I made you drop this.” He picks up a Stormtrooper action figure that fell by his feet thanks to the commotion, but when he puts it down on the desk, he sees the surprise on her face. “You’re a science fiction enthusiast?”

Her lips part to say something, but they close immediately, instead putting one hand over her mouth to cover it up. It does nothing to conceal her surprise. “I—I am.”

The doors to the main office open then, Mrs. Kwon standing in all her enigmatic glory, leaning against the doorframe as she silently calls out for him with a mere glare. In front of him, he has the opportunity to stablish some conversation—meet someone who he had deemed interesting when talking over the phone with them, but the job is calling. His last opportunity to get some money and run for his real dreams is calling.

“I have to go meet up with Mrs. Kwon.” Jongin whispers, giving her a shy smile. “I’m sorry again.”

Only when he starts giving a few steps towards the main office, sporting one of those smirks he is tired of, he feels his phone vibrating inside the pocket of his pants. Jongin knows who it is, but his hands are shaking as he gets the device out, putting it up to his ear as he keeps walking.

“I—It’s you. You are here to see Mrs. Kwon.”

He closes his eyes. It’s horrid that she has to see him like this—like who he used to be and wants to get over and done with. Maybe, she’ll think less of him. Now that she sees him, she will see how deep into the call boy world he had gotten, enough to throw all shame out the window and have sex with someone in a fucking packed office.

“Sorry, baby. Have to do this last job.” Jongin whispers, briefly turning around to look at her, a look of despair on her face when he hangs up the phone, a sigh ripping from his throat when he finally is in front of Mrs. Kwon.

Maybe, he’s not meant to get this close with anyone unless they pay him.

###

“Jongin, let loose!”

Taerin puts on a pair of awfully tiny green sunglasses as they stand in the middle of the mall, both her hands occupied by the group of children they teach. Contemporary dance was the topic of this month, and all the parents had agreed on recording a video in a mall showcasing the dance skills that their children had acquired through the program. Not that he would ever think he’d be here three months ago, but with Baekhyun’s help and his connection with his ex-girlfriend, Taerin, he had been able to get the job.

“I’m letting loose!” He says, pulling at the red strands of Taerin’s hair as he passes by her and places the two children, he is holding hands with on their positions. “But dance is an art, I need them to be in the right positions before we start recording so we don’t bump into each other.”

Taerin is so much more different from Baekhyun’s current wife. She’s more on the outstanding side, that is for sure, with a high ponytail and her curvy body covered with clothing of all colors, shapes, textures. He isn’t surprised that a few pairs of eyes end up landing on her, either with confusion or with attraction. Not that she is his type, really. “They’re just children. And we’ve been practicing for a month.”

“Yes, Mr. Kim!” One of the children, William, says from his spot. A little bit over nine years old and definitely a threat to society with how hyperactive he is, but for dancing…he’s spectacular. Jongin sees a bright future with him. “We’re ready.”

Dabin, a seven-year-old boy, raises his hand in the air with anxiousness. “Actually, Mr. Kim, Mrs. Lee, I’d like to practice one more time before y—you start recording, please.”

“Dabin!” William whines, only to have Dabin pouting.

“I forgot one part.”

Jongin is ready to go over the dance again, nearing the Bluetooth speakers to put on some music when he comes face to face with a person he knows and a complete stranger. They are seated by one of the mall’s tables, in front of some ice cream shop that he has yet to go to. The man wears a bright pink sweater and ripped jeans, the band of his boxers peaking from his jeans as he leans down to capture his date’s kiss on a passionate kiss. His lips part way too much, sucking on her upper lip with intention as she covers most of her hands with the sleeves of her hoodie, holding onto his long, brown hair.

Her features are hard to dismiss—he had seen them once, missed them for three months. Not that she had not tried to reach out to him, perhaps weeks after they had seen each other in person, asking how he was doing…but he was unable to answer. Embarrassment latched onto Jongin like a leech, sucking every desire of continuing with their interesting conversations. It hurt him, but it’s what he had to do.

The date in question, or perhaps her boyfriend (and Jongin really hopes this is not that Donghae, dick out, guy.), pulls away with a smile on his face, his plush cheeks matching his rosy lips as he rests his thumb on her bottom lip, pulling it down the slightest, not caring about who is seeing or the embarrassment that clads her face in beauty. His eyes trail down to her lips, thumb still rubbing at the skin as he speaks, and it’s at that time that Jongin feels a shiver going up his spine, trailing up to his neck and his head.

He wants her.

And he hates it.

But it’s okay. It’s all cool. Why should he care if she goes out on a date with someone, or if she’s dating, or if someone even wants her? She’s an attractive woman, of course people are going to look at her—

So, why is it that when the man in question leaves the table and goes to one of the restaurants nearby, he asks for some timeout and rushes out to her?

He doesn’t know. Jongin knows about sex, not exactly about romance.

“Back with Donghae?” is the first thing he can manage to say when he nears her, placing his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants and hoping that she doesn’t catch the jealousy on his features, masked by a smile, under his cap. She raises her head then, frowning deeply at the sound of his voice before gasping audibly, eyes widening in the process.

“Kim Jongin?” She asks, both hands coming up to her face, just like the last time he had seen her and he damn right finds it adorable. “…Long time no see. Or talk. You didn’t really answer my texts.” She replies, and just like the first few times they had talked, she chuckles and continues to rant. “Well, not that you should. I mean, half the office knows that you and Mrs. Kwon—”

Jongin scrunches up his nose then, shaking his head in the process. “Oh no, me and Mrs. Kwon have nothing to do. She hired me for the entire day so she would pay me half…a million.” At the sound of that amount of money, he lowers his voice, making her raise both eyebrows, mouthing the number with surprise. “Not that it matters. I’m not…I’m not in the business anymore.”

Her hand extends in front of her heart, sighing deeply. “And here I was thinking I had been talking sex with Mrs. Kwon’s boyfriend behind her back and that I was going to get fired.”

“No,” Jongin answers, laughing as well. “If there is something, I don’t have is bad tastes in women, and Mrs. Kwon is not exactly my style. A client, first and foremost, and secondly…too hooked up on her ex. She likes all the bad shit in this world.”

“I get it.” She says, pointing to the seat in front of her before asking him to sit down. Jongin shouldn’t, but he finds himself sprawled on the seat before he knew it, interlocking his hands together in front of him. “That’s not Donghae.”

“He wants you.”

“Oh, no—” She replies, scoffing in the process. “He doesn’t want me. Come on. We’re just—ah, we just kiss sometimes. It’s nothing serious—”

“Let me remind you—I know about seduction. That whole lip thing I just saw? Seduction.”

“Friendship.”

“Seduction.” Jongin corrects, laughing at her face when she groans. “Doesn’t he meet your standards, like, the same as Donghae?”

Her eyes divert towards her date, standing in front of a restaurant and talking to the worker there. Not that he is anywhere near unattractive, but it isn’t the kind of person he imagines with her. Maybe, someone like himself would be more of a fit.

“I’m not interested in that with him.” She answers, shrugging her shoulders. “Perhaps, I’m just broken. I can’t feel sexual attraction anymore, to anyone. It’s insane—”

Though, she looks at him briefly, making Jongin chuckle as he speaks. “Baby, that’s not being broken. That’s just being selective. It’s okay to be that.”

“With every man?”

“Yeah, it’s completely normal.”

“But…” She throws her head back, sighing. “Isn’t it annoying? Like, most adults just want sex—”

“Not all of them.” Jongin replies, looking down at his interlocked hands before biting on his lip. “Outside of my job, I haven’t done much with anyone. Once your life revolves around sex, you realize it’s the least of your priorities.”

A second of silence follows his statement, and he hears her pulling her chair forward, closer to him. “Why didn’t you text me back, Jongin?”

He looks up then. “I was afraid you’d think less of me for being a…a…” He can’t concentrate his pupils on her anymore.

“A call boy.”

“Yeah.”

“Jongin, I would never think of you as less because of that.” Her voice drips sincerity, eyes twinkling in the way he had seen once and couldn’t get enough of. “It’s a job. It’s not the most common of jobs—but you did it for a reason, and you wanted to stop. That’s your choice, your life, it’s not what makes you a better or a worse person.”

Jongin smiles at that, looking over to the group of children practicing with Taerin. “I’m a dance teacher now, you know that?”

“If someone had texted me back, I would know.” Though, the moment is cut short when her date, or her friend, whoever he is, appears with a trail of food on his hands, sending a comfortable smile towards the man before nodding.

“I didn’t know you were bringing a friend.” Her date says, but Jongin is already standing up from his seat.

“I was just greeting her, nothing big. I’m leaving now.” Not that he wants to do that, but it’s better if he does. Turning around one last time, like he always does with her, he feels the magic in her eyes when he says: “It was nice talking to you again.”

###

From: Kim Jongin.

How did the date go?

It takes him five minutes, three dots on the screen and a slurp of spicy noodles inside his mouth to get an answer.

To: Kim Jongin.

Horrid.

Why?

Like, it’s bad to rant about this.

And you probably think I’m some picky bitch but—

Is it my lips?

Why do all men I go out with want me to suck their dick?

From: Kim Jongin.

I don’t think you’re a picky bitch.

Never say tat.

That*.

Because you have to be more honest and less malleable.

If what you want is a simple date, tell them.

I’m sure they give you signs that they want a hook-up.

What comes next is a screenshot of her screen, typical as ever when coming from her, a Google search that has him almost choking on his food.

She’s funnier than she lets herself believe.

The search says: Why can’t man differentiate normal flirting with hook-up flirting? And the articles are nowhere near as informative as they should.

To: Kim Jongin.

I’ve given up.

On dating.

Men are complicated.

Capital C.

Cursive.

From: Kim Jongin.

There’s nothing wrong with self-love.

To: Kim Jongin.

But now I have a bucket filled with fried chicken and no one to share it with.

From: Kim Jongin.

Mhm.

Send me your address and we can share

I’ll bring some noodles.

Slipping into his coat after getting her address feels like a new beginning. For him, maybe, to get out of his shell and realize that he is more than just a body moving through the world. He’s a soul—his charisma, his strength, his delicacy. There is something about the smile he gives to that closed door, because a new beginning has never felt quite as beautiful as this.

###

When he was twenty-three, he promised himself he would never fall again. Love is so meticulous that the only free time you have is spent doubting. He didn’t want that for himself anymore, neither for the person he was seeing.

The street lights bring him back to the places he had been in, but now, he’s seated on a bench. Typical Saturday night of their weekly meet-up when Jongin gets out of work at the same time she does, and they grab something to eat to spend a few hours of the night together. If the world’s beauty had a voice, it would be hers. It feels like magic; as if for the time they are talking for, he learns all her insecurities and makes them human. Every single wound, every crevice, every portion of her that bleeds, aches, palpitates, grounds itself and silences its complaints, make him more interested.

Kim Jongin prided himself on never being sedated.

“If I have a car, and you know this,” Jongin says, placing his hands under his thighs as he sits down, looking at her profile that basks under the lights of the empty street. The hood of her shirt is pulled tightly over her head, the few traces of makeup she must’ve put on in the morning disappearing after so many hours of not retouching it. “I don’t know why you insist on waiting for the bus.”

She looks at him then, eyes twinkling—in the time that he has gotten closer to her, he has known a few things. They shine when she’s happy, sad, angry; it’s as though her eyes can’t help but show her heart, and all he wants to do is protect it. “I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

Jongin scoffs at that. “I know you would never use me.”

“Still.” She replies, fixing the black bomber jacket he had thrown over a gray t-shirt, playing with the edge as she speaks. “You already do enough by spending every Saturday night with me.”

His cheeks fluff out at that, a pout on his tone as he speaks. “I enjoy spending time with you.”

“I know you do.” She imitates his voice before sighing. “For some goddamned reason, but you do.”

“I love it when you talk films and science fiction with me even though I don’t understand a thing, what can I say?”

“You said we were going to watch Just My Luck next week.”

“I did say that,” Jongin mumbles, eyes trailing down to her lips. The speckles of her lip-gloss have disappeared, leaving them in their natural color, void of any decoration, and yet calling him out for his lack of attention. Jongin knows the two of them—a man who stopped believing in people wanting him for something more than sex, and a woman who went through the same. Circumstances that they could understand with different outcomes. They meet in the magic ways of life, in the dulcetness of being seen as a person, speaking and talking to their heart’s content, falling in silence and yet, screaming out the words that they never say. “You look pretty tonight. Always, but uh, tonight specially.”

“Thank you.” She breathes out, the words curling her lips in a pretty smile, and Jongin doesn’t think he can hold it any longer. This longing of conversation, of uniting his soul with someone else’s. For the first time, he wants to believe.

It’s in the bend of her waist, in the way she seems to understand him in ways that no one did, how she grasps his face in between her hands and brings him forward, half of his body hovering over hers as she kisses him. Not a single word of lust, not a moment of suspicion—no matter how many women had kissed him, how many bodies he had touched, the things he did and what he did not, she saw past them. For, he is not Kim Kai, he is not a call boy—he’s the man she calls when she wants to see him, talk to him, feel him like a presence beside her, not over her. He’s Kim Jongin to her, and that’s more than he ever expected.

Her lips are not as experienced as one would have imagined. She takes her time, a woman with a lollipop between her lips that doesn’t want to break her teeth. She doesn’t want to bite too soon, eat more of him in ways that would have his plump lips growing redder. Instead, she takes her time, and takes him as well, perhaps whispering in the depths of her heart that he deserves this. A kiss that feels as though he is not wanted, not needed for the scratch of an itch, for filling what was once left void, he is not desired. He’s wished upon. He’s a star. A dream, a thought, a feeling—

His fingers sneak around her waist, lifting some of the hoodie up to feel the warmth of her skin through her white t-shirt. Those portions of her she had never shown to anyone—the parts she talks about in between laughs, trying to mask them as miniscule beings, those are the ones he wants to know. Jongin has never been a romanticist, but what would be of him if he missed an opportunity like that?

Some wheels roll over the street, and when she pulls away, the glint of his saliva ends up over her lips, chest heaving, and the beat of her heart matches his with their chests pressed. Her hands come up, they always do, hiding those lips he doesn’t want to let go of, and she touches the skin there as she says: “I just missed my bus, Jongin!”

With a fleeting kiss over her lips, he says: “Let me take you home.” He adds, though, he tilts his head to the side. “Or I can wait here. Just, please, let me spend some more time with you.”

She laughs at this. “You could have anyone and yet, you choose to have me?”

“Who is anyone when there’s you?” Jongin retorts, watching her lick her bottom lip, mouth falling from its smile to look down at his lips. This time around, she takes the first step—decisions made by her, words left unspoken that tell him he’s the first man she has found fitting in a while. Not fitting for her, but worth her time.

Intimacy at its finest, Jongin can say he has felt a lot—desire, lust, hatred, disgust, sadness, hopelessness. Yet, this is different.

It’s the first time he has felt accepted.

It’s the first time he can say he feels like he is under a spell, one that he can’t get out of.

#kai scenarios #kai #exo scenarios #exo #kpop scenarios #writing #kai fluff #kai angst #kai au #exo fluff #exo angst #exo au #call boy!au #...........i said i was going to write this with ksoo #but i watched the mmmh video and this happened #so #there you go #tell me your opinions if you can!!!

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 4

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Sexual abuse (skip to the solo ". . ." to skip that part)

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 - Breaking Out of Hell

Song Qingshi finally connected the child with the red tear mole in his memories and the peerless beauty on the golden bird frame.

Someone eavesdropping on their conversation clapped his hands and laughed: "Xie Que is really wicked. It must have been so amusing to see when the little apprentice discovered the truth."

Since Jin FeiRen had cultivated immortality, he had received countless beauties, but he was still excited about the moment that Yue Wuhuan entering the door: "That year, when I was eight hundred years old, I received countless congratulations, so I held a feast on this Langgan stage and invited all my friends to celebrate together. Xie Que also came with Wuhuan. He seemed to tell Wuhuan that he was going to send him to Golden Phoenix Manor to learn sword fighting. Wuhuan was overjoyed. When Xie was absent, he took out the spirit bead and asked me to inspect the slave. His incredulous expression was really cute. . ."

Jin FeiRen casually played with the long hair of the boy in white, forcing him to look at the beauty on the golden bird stand, and then told everyone about the past events:

At that time, Yue Wuhuan had just grown up, wearing the Yuelan clothes that all immortal disciples liked, with a sword on his waist, his hair tied with a simple white jade crown. His body had a clean smell, his facial features were exquisite, and his phoenix eyes were clear and innocent. He had dignified manners, unlike someone with a mortal origin, but like the young son of the immortal family.

He earnestly bowed to the immortals at the banquet and then told Jin FeiRen that he was already in the middle stage of foundation building and that he would work hard to master his sword at Golden Phoenix Manor in the future, and live up to Master's expectations and become like Mo Yuan. The powerful sword repair. At that time, everyone laughed, and there was an ambiguous atmosphere that was built from the laughter. Yue Wuhuan realized that there was something wrong with their laughter and wanted to retreat. Jin FeiRen had already walked down, lifted his hand, studied it carefully, and laughed: "Such a beautiful hand is not suitable for swordsmanship. It's more suitable for serving people."

Yue Wuhuan's face turned pale and he desperately retracted his hands.

Jin FeiRen let go and smiled: "Immortal Xie, since you have brought some excellent goods, you must let me inspect the goods."

The people in the room also clamoured and demanded to inspect the goods on the spot.

Yue Wuhuan watched as his master took out a red bead. He turned his mind, and lost control of his body. He desperately tried to prevent his trembling hands from reaching his waist and threw his most treasured sword away like trash. Long sword. Then, his belt fell, and the layers of Yuelan's clothes faded away. His self-esteem was destroyed in front of everyone, and his dream of cultivation was crushed to pieces.

All sounds of the dinner stopped, and all eyes were staring at the beautiful scenery.

Jin FeiRen couldn't help but straighten up.

Yue Wuhuan was struggling in this controlled state, wishing to die on the spot. He looked at his master in pain, his beautiful lips squirming, and begged silently. Xie Que finally walked towards him and gently stretched out his hand, just like when he touched his head every day to praise him.

Xie Que gently pulled off his white jade crown.

The white jade crown fell to the floor and smashed into pieces. The long, slightly curled hair dropped down to his waist like a waterfall, covering the enchanting Acacia Seal on his pale back. The despair and helplessness in the dark golden phoenix eyes were enough to arouse any raging thoughts. The red tear-shaped mole made people feel allured, and the originally beautiful boy was turned into a seductive collectable.

The more Wuhuan struggled, the more his head lowered to hide himself away in embarrassment.

Xie Que grabbed Yue Wuhuan's long hair and pulled it back fiercely, forcing the ashamed young man to raise his head so that everyone could see one of the best beauties of the country.

He smiled and said: "My vision is never wrong."

. . .

The sound of the flute resonated further, and the depth of the sadness in that lingering sound became more devastating.

Song Qingshi's throat stiffened from sadness, and he was left a little breathless. He gradually understood the meaning of the words Yue Wuhuan said by the river bank. He seemed to see himself locked in a physical prison from his past. He shouted every day, but no one could hear his cry for help.

He didn't want to think about it anymore. He already knew the answer.

He wanted to save was this bruised beautiful bird with his strings of scars.

Song Qingshi began to think wildly about how to naturally whisk this boy away.

The song ended, the flute stopped, and the remaining notes curled away into the wind.

The guests had already been enthusiastic from the song, and now some were even making fools of themselves.

Jin FeiRen got up and announced boldly: "This is the toy that Golden Phoenix Manor will give to you all immortal friends tonight. Please enjoy!."

Song Qingshi was startled and looked back worriedly. Yue Wuhuan only raised his eyebrows. It seemed that he was used to such a scene. He indifferently cast a wink at the immortal beside him, his beautiful calves stretched out under the feather skirt, shaking the bells on the golden shackles on his feet. He swayed them towards everyone as if inviting them to taste.

The Hidden Moon Sect's Young Master looked at him with desire. He raised his hand to grab his foot and wanted to tear off the feather skirt and drag him off to the side to play around with.

Suddenly, there was an exclamation from outside the hall, and the maids and servants fled one after another. A demon tiger rushed into the hall. Its eyes were red, staring at Yue Wuhuan, roaring in a low voice, as if it saw some delicious prey. Yue Wuhuan’s eyes began to glaze over as if he had been drugged. It was like he didn't know what fear was. He actually walked towards the demon tiger, closer and closer, seeming not to know what it was. . .

LingBao Xianzun said in surprise: "This is the show my friend arranged tonight? Such flair!"

The guests were full of drunken spirit. They were getting extremely exciting and started cheering.

The white-clothed boy finally couldn't help standing up. He pushed Jin FeiRen away, and shouted: "Stop! Don't do this! This sort of show. . . is too much!"

Jin FeiRen was a little puzzled. He had arranged a demon tiger hunting slave game tonight, but he was only going to use ordinary slaves. Why would he ever be willing to use such a stunning beauty as Yue Wuhuan? But now the atmosphere of the guests was too energetic. Yue Wuhuan knew how to ensure the guests would not be disappointed and keep the energy. The accusation of the youth beside him also made him feel like he lost face, so he sneered: "Why not? You just have to open your eyes and take a good look. If you dare to disobey me, I'll let you have a go against the beast."

The white-clothed boy's face turned pale. He opened his mouth, but he dared not make any more noises.

Seeing him approaching, the demon tiger became even more frantic and lost its wit. He grabbed Yue Wuhuan's shoulder and bit down. Yue Wuhuan’s shoulder was torn open with a big, bloody mouth. He finally woke up from his dazed state and drew back. The demon tiger still continued to grab and bite at him, trying to tear up what was trying to escape in front of him.

Song Qingshi racked the original body's memories until he found a suitable attack spell he could use. He turned the Underworld Ghost Fire into a needle as thin as cattle hair and shot it at the demon tiger's body. The demon tiger raised his head and roared, and the thin needle that should have been hit its neck hit its leg insted.

Fortunately, the poison of the Underworld Ghost Fire spread quickly in the demon tiger. The demon tiger instantly grew stiff and fell on its side After a while, it turned into a boiling corpse and evaporated.

Song Qingshi got up and walked towards Yue Wuhuan who was lying in a pool of blood. He quickly sealed the wound and pressed a few acupuncture points to stop the bleeding.

Yue Wuhuan was trembling in pain. He kept panting, his beautiful face was covered with blood, and he looked like a ghost. Looking at Song Qingshi, there was no joy of being rescued, only deep resentment and despair. Finally, before he passed out, he said in a soft voice that was almost inaudible: "I was so blind. . ."

Song Qingshi put a spirit pill in his mouth to keep his heart working.

Jin FeiRen came over and was very displeased: "Song Xianzun, why did you kill my demon tiger?"

This demon tiger was his most valuable treasure, capable of human intelligence, and able to protect his master. Much more valuable than a tired slave.

Song Qingshi put himself back into the character of the original body, and said coldly: "I want him."

Jin FeiRen smiled and said, "Was Xianxun actually moved by this display?"

Song Qingshi replied: "I will use him to test my medicine."

He wanted to use Yue Wuhuan to try various miraculous medicines to restore his body to what it used to be!

Under Song Qingshi’s deliberate misguidance, Jin FeiRen was completely fooled. The advantage of the wood spirit root system was that the natural body had a strong resilience and was a good choice for medicine refiners. Medicine Master Xianzun’s behaviour was like immortals that flew through the sky. It was hard to guess what he was thinking. Since the demon tiger was dead, there was no point in investigating it, so it's better to take this opportunity to have Song Qingshi owe him a favour.

Song Qingshi took out a bottle of his immortal pills from his mustard bag, and didn't really count out how much he took out. Instead, he directly handed them to Jin FeiRen as compensation. Refining pills were extremely beneficial to practicing cultivation. It’s just that the materials were extremely precious, and they were very hard to come by. Pills refined by the Medicine Master Xianxun himself were even more of a rarirty. Considering this was compensation for the demon tiger and a slave he was tired of playing with and might now even make it. . . this was a very sincere offer. . .

Song Qingshi was afraid that he would reject the offer, so he thought about it and then said: "This tiger has been drugged. He was overly vicious and had become deranged, so it couldn't be left as was."

Jin FeiRen hurried down the steps, erased his spiritual thoughts from Yue Wuhuan's bead and transferred them to Song Qingshi. He thanked him for discovering the tiger's madness and killing it without injuring the guests on the court and ordered someone to investigate the demon tiger being drugged.

Song Qingshi courteously paid his farewells to Manor Lord Jin and rejected his enthusiasm for sending him home with some beauties.

He picked up Yue Wuhuan, who was seriously injured and still unconscious and stepped out of this hell of jade carvings.

In hell, there were still many souls that still couldn't escape. . .

Behind him, the carefree laughter grew farther and farther away.

The blood on Yue Wuhuan's face has been wiped away, and the crow feather-like eyelashes are tightly closed, trembling slightly, fragile and beautiful.

When Song Qingshi looked at him, his heart gradually became firmer.

He suddenly remembered the story his mother told when he was a child:

There are thousands of fish from the tide pushing them into the shallow puddles on the beach.

He has no way of saving all the fish. He can only release the dying fish in his hand to the freedom of the sea.

"Because this fish cares."

#mistakenly saving the villain #mistakenly saving the villain translation #chinese novel #chinese bl #bl novel #english translation #yaoi novel #danmei novel

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narniagiftexchange · 3 years

Text

THE SPRING NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

for: @oflucyandlorien from @noctusfury.

lost & found.

G-rated, K-rated language, one-shot, 2.6k words. Angst, hurt/comfort, romance, and found family.

Set in the Golden Age, after the events of "The Horse and His Boy".

Cor | Shasta/Aravis, Cor | Shasta & Pevensies, Aravis & Pevensies.

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Summary: The Pevensies have disappeared, and Narnia and Archenland are in an uproar. Archenland offers to help the Narnians search for their lost monarchs. Cor | Shasta reflects on the impact the Pevensies have brought on him and his family, along with their disappearance. Meanwhile, Cor and Aravis also deal with budding feelings towards each other.

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Note to Giftee: So I have to say that I was very excited to have received your request. I've been WAITING and WAITING to write a fic for Cor/Aravis, or something in the HHB universe, but between them and Golden Age Pevensies, it was kinda difficult figuring out what to write. But I figured I might as well do both.

What was a surprise was that instead of this remaining a one-shot, this story is beginning to grow into a two-shot, perhaps even a three-shot. So I'll tag you if I end up working on/finishing those following parts.

Also, sorry for the bad title. For some reason I couldn't think up anything that could fit this fic. So if you have any ideas, let me know. ^_^

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this fic and that I was able to incorporate the things you most enjoy. Thank you for the opportunity. ^_^

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It had been a year later, a year since the events of the Battle of Anvard, when Anvard had received the shocking news: the Kings and Queens of Narnia had disappeared during a hunting trip! Vanished! Cair Paravel was in an uproar!

When Cor — formerly known as Shasta (though still sometimes called that by his more intimate friends) — first heard the news, he was shocked. Took him time to process that, no, he wasn't mishearing the information just given him.

Then came the denial. This simply couldn't be true. Of course they didn't disappear! They were fine! Perhaps they had forgotten to bring word to Cair Paravel that they were extending their hunting trip. Surely not all of the Monarchs of Narnia could've disappeared at once… could they?

When they had been told that it had been two weeks since they had left on that hunting trip, and that the Narnians were still searching for their Monarchs all throughout the realm, dread seeped in. Accusations of treachery, abductions, assassinations even flew in the air, and their natural enemies, the Calormene Empire and Telmar, quickly fell into suspicion.

Corin, his brother, was the first to voice out this conviction. "It has to be the Calormenes! It has to be!"

Others began chorusing this as well. "They've been coveting the lands of the North for ages!" cried one of the court elders. "Acquiring the Kings and Queens of Narnia as hostages would be just the sort of bargaining chip they'd need to pressure us into submission!" another wave of shouts and debates issued forth in the king's court.

While it had been a year since the conflict with Prince Rabadash — now Tisroc (Emperor or King-of-Kings in the Common Tongue) of the Calormenes since the passing of his late father (though some wondered, even among his own people, whether or not the Tisroc died from assassination rather than natural causes) — and even though Rabadash had more than shown that he was a passive and 'peaceful' ruler in the short time of his rule, there had been rumors that Rabadash had been scheming to find solutions to redeem his recent disgrace at the hands of the Narnian monarchs. So this wasn't a possibility that could be ignored.

That being said, Cor knew that just speculating on what happened wasn't going to get them any closer to finding the lost Monarchs of Narnia. His father, who had been quietly observing the pandemonium in his court, seemed to agree with this, as he cleared his throat and ordered for silence. "Please, friends!" he implored, his usual jovial countenance had long past fled. "Now's not the time for speculation. The larger issue at hand is trying to locate their persons. Should we not instead try to find figure out where they could be and try to bring them back to their respective residence, in a speedy and safe manner?"

Several of the councilors had the decency to look sheepish or shame-faced at the king's gentle admonishment. Cor looked at his father thoughtfully. He knew how much the Pevensies meant to King Lune. He saw how they interacted and from what Corin and their father had told them, the Pevensies were like family to Anvard's royal family. Ever since the Monarchs of Narnia began ruling Narnia, and the first delegation had been sent to Archenland, King Lune and his late wife, who had no children at the time, had practically adopted them into the family and became their foster parents of sorts, and the 'diplomatic missions' between the two royal houses were more familial visits and holiday repasts in all but name.

Cor, for his part, despite only having known the Pevensies for a little over a year, had grown to think of them as elder siblings and it was no secret that the Twins — Corin in particular — idolized the Kings of Narnia (the Queens, too) and were always thrilled whenever they came to visit, and vice versa. Naturally, Cor tended to favor King Edmund, the first of the Monarchs that he had met and interacted with in Tashbaan on his Quest to reach the North. Now that he was Archenland's Crown Prince and Heir, he had a lot of education to catch up on, and the younger of the Narnian kings had been the perfect tutor, patient and thorough. Cor was, in particular, interested in legal administration and law, similar to the Just King himself, and they had many long discussions concerning the matter.

Aravis, Cor knew, had grown quite attached to the Queen Lucy and they had often gone into the gardens and had done many outdoor activities, as well as telling each other stories and lore from their respective cultures. Being an only child, Aravis never had the benefit of sibling companionship (aside from some cousins), and the Pevensies, Queen Lucy in particular, became a sort of big sister figure for her. And the relationship really improved her mood over this past year. Cor tried not to notice how pretty she looked among the copper leaves — a Queen of Autumn. He tried not to notice the radiant glow on her face, the Spring in her smile, and the chimes in her laughter.

He tried not to notice a lot of things where Aravis was concerned. It tended to muddle the mind and leave him utterly confused. And warm. Particularly when she smiled at him. (Since when did her eyes shine like the black pearl that he saw a fisherman catch back in Arsheesh's village?)

But she wasn't smiling now. Aravis was sitting next to King Lune's throne to his right, and worry for her friend clouded her face. Fear, even. The expression made his heart ache, and he had to stop himself from going over and comforting her. Now wasn't the time or place.

But what he could do is help his father alleviate the situation. "May I propose something?"

Cor almost shrunk back against his seat as the whole room — including the Narnian messenger — turned to look at him expectantly. His father most of all (Aravis was also giving him a surprised look, and the boy was trying not to fidget).

"A proposal, you say, Cor?" inquired King Lune, stroking his beard out of habit. "Do tell, my boy, do tell!"

"Why don't we discreetly send search parties to Narnia to help in the search? I mean, we know that the last place they were last seen was in the Western Woods, right? Let's start from where we know they could be and then work our way from there. We should be able to find them eventually with added assistance."

While there were many who were still reserved doubts, there were others who nodded slow approval and even threw each other hopeful glances and murmurings as they voiced their consent.

King Lune was looking at Cor proudly. "Hah, excellent idea, my boy! Splendid! You're picking up a thing or two, it seems." he turned to the nobles expectantly. "Any objections?"

One lord tentatively raised a hand. "I do, my lord."

King Lune gestured for him to continue. "Speak, then, Lord Galen."

Lord Galen turned to Cor, his face the picture of skepticism. "If I am to understand you correctly, you're proposing to send search parties to Narnia to speed up the search?"

Cor wasn't sure where he was going with this, but decided to humor him. "Yes?" he then cleared his throat and emended his reply with a more resolute, "Yes, I am."

"My issue with this idea is this:" continued Lord Galen, "how do we do this, per your suggestion, without attracting the attention of our enemies, such as the Calormene Empire and Telmar. When word eventually reaches them, they'll chomp at the bit to race each other to be the first to capture Narnia, and indeed Archenland, as well. What say you to this?"

Once again, Cor felt a multitude of gazes expectantly awaiting his response. He gulped. "Well, I…" from the corner of his eye, Cor could see Aravis giving him an encouraging gesture with her hand, and continued, straightening himself and trying to make his voice sound more confident than he felt. "Obviously, we can't neutralize completely the possibility that the enemies' spies will find out eventually…" he looked at everyone in the room, and they nodded their agreement, silently prompting him to continue, "therefore, the only option to counter this is to use that information against them."

That got their attention. "How so, Cor?" asked his father.

"Simple: by making them believe it all to be a cunning ruse," Cor explained, beginning to warm up to the subject. "A selected and trusted retinue of Archenlanders ride to Narnia, such as myself, Corin, Aravis, several of the lords, and, of course, various guards and servants, etc, etc, under the guise of having been invited to Cair Paravel for a social event. We will remain for two weeks, secretly helping in the search for the Pevensies, while the festivities and games that will happen in the palace will provide us with a distraction…" he paused, thinking of his next words before continuing. "Meanwhile, the nobles of Narnia and Archenland will provide a double ruse, in which they will hold a 'secret meeting' while the games commence. They are to drop hints and to make sure that they are overheard, with enough discretion to make it believable; that way when they rendezvous to a vacant room or tent, it'll spike the spies' curiosity enough to venture there in order to collect any supposed important information for their masters. Doesn't matter what the topic's about, so long as it's a ruse with some truth implemented in it for validity's sake.

"Meanwhile, while all of this is going on, Archenlander and Narnian search parties will search high and low for the Kings and Queens of Narnia as thoroughly and quickly as warranted. I recommend some look-a-likes to play as decoys of Their Majesties, so as to appear altogether present, yet distant, in order to prevent spies from getting too close. Some of them I recommend to join the parties, dressed in the Narnian garb or armor to hide their identities and to keep the ruse alive for as long as possible. In this way, we could use these search parties as mere 'patrols' to act as if we're searching and vanquishing any enemy presence in the realm, such as, for example, the Fell-Beasts.

"This will serve two purposes: One, it will keep the Narnians from panicking and thus increasing the chances of instability in the realm as well as the likelihood of our enemies finding this out and using this to their advantage. This, of course, cannot happen. And two, it will allow us to search for the Pevensies freely without worry of discovery, since it will be known that it's merely routine patrols and war games in order to bring further stability into Narnia and to increase the bonds between Archenland and Narnia.

"Naturally, those of us among the royal family must remain in Cair Paravel in order to keep the ruse up, or else it might raise suspicion. And we'll only be there for two weeks before returning to Archenland. Of course, if we needed more time, we could extend it to a month, and use the excuse of the young Princes — Corin and I — wanting to stay in Narnia a bit longer and the Pevensies having given their permission to do so.

"That's pretty much all I can think of at this moment…" Cor finished sheepishly.

The audience gave a stunned silence before murmuring amongst themselves concerning the plan. King Lune was more ready with his opinion.

"Excellent idea, my boy!" praised his father, stroking his beard thoughtfully, a proud smile on his face. Cor looked to Aravis, who wore a stunned expression, before giving him an approving smirk.

And it was doing some strange sensations in his stomach, and a quick beating of his heart.

What was this?

He quick shook himself of this as his father called for attention. His father stood up, his huge girth, as always, making whatever action he did look comical, regardless of the seriousness involved, his normally deep and jovial voice turning most solemn, indeed.

"Right! If we're all in agreement, then let us make haste to Narnia and find their lost Kings and Queens. Let us pray that we find them soon and that they've not come to harm." the King turned to the Narnian messenger — a falcon — who was busy combing through his feathers with his beak in preparation for the return journey. "Will this suffice, friend?"

The falcon, Takar by name, stopped what he was doing to tip his beak and spread his wings in the customary sign of respect by his kind. "Arrah! Aye, King Lune! Takar hath no objections to this scheme. If thou wilt permit me, Sire, Takar shalt fly forthwith through the south-eastern gales, as true and fast as one of yon Queen Susan's arrows. Thou can rely on Takar to inform me fellow Narnians of thy plan!"

"The Lion be with you, friend. Safe journey!"

"Arrah! And to thee, Sire! Mayest the winds favor thy back, and mayest the Great Lion be with thee all thy days!" And with that, the great falcon took off and flew like an arrow from a bow.

King Lune then turned to his councilors. "And may Aslan be with you all, and I pray that the Monarchs of Narnia will soon be found and restored to their thrones and our hearts.

"Now let us prepare."

The courtiers dispersed to prepare for the coming journey, and just as Cor was going to leave and make his own preparations, Aravis made her way towards him. She gave him a congratulatory smile. "That was well spoken, Shasta," she said softly, her Calormene accent folding around his old name like a warm blanket. Only in times like this, when it was just them, she would use his old name from their past life, neither of them having quite gotten used to his real name in the past year. It was always a comfort for Cor whenever she said it, her voice like a cool and soothing balm that calmed him whenever he felt the stresses of his sudden heirdom overwhelming him.

Cor shrugged self-deprecatorily, feeling a little self-conscious. "It was nothing. King Edmund deserves the credit; it's how he thinks. Whenever one of us visits, he's sort of been teaching me these kinds of things, along with administration and law. I've just been parroting what he said."

"But isn't that where greatness comes — by walking in the footsteps of and learning from those who have walked the paths less traveled?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow and an inquiring smile. Aravis stared at him thoughtfully, and regarded him for a moment.

"W-What?" Cor stuttered, not used to the intensity of Aravis's gaze.

She simply smiled and began walking away. But before she left, she turned to face Cor, the look in her eyes sincere. "You know, I believe that, when the time comes, you'll be a great king…," before adding with a teasing look, "Prince Cor." With a giggle, Aravis left the throne room for her own chambers to prepare for the journey, leaving Cor to stand there with a flustered and surprised look on his face, before shaking himself and moving on to his own room, deep in thought.

To him, it was her eyes that Prince Cor found to be the most dangerous feature that made up Lady Aravis — those eyes as dark as black pearls.

And yet, Cor couldn't wait to greet those eyes again.

#tcon #tconedit #narnia #cor #Aravis #cor x aravis #the pevensies #type: fanfiction #springexchange.#spring exchange: 1 #by noctusfury #for oflucyandlorien #narnia gift exchange

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