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sevlgi · 3 years

Text

hit and run

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: a shit ton of angst, some fluff

contents: idol!rosé, actress!y/n, closeted!rosé, costar!au, slight enemies-to-lovers, unhappy endings because i’m a bitch, a lot of attempted cinematic parallels, italicized dialogue is when they’re speaking as their characters

warnings: slight homophobia

synopsis: There’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with a costar who you should hate by all accounts. But of course, you manage to forget that love is usually more like a hit-and-run than a cruise ship.

a/n: while i was writing this, i imagined this as what happened before rosie sang “gone”, so maybe you can think of it like that too? i’m honestly so terrified of this flopping lmao...

for a little background on the film: Y/N plays Luna, a pirate captain who unknowingly sacrificed her family in order to have the power to fight the regime that Rosé’s character Helen is a part of. Helen approaches Luna, determined to help her bring justice, but Helen is unable to choose between the benefits of staying with the regime, and following what she knows is right and destroying her life as a result.

word count: 6.8k

The last thing you want to hear on the morning of your first script reading is that the actress playing your love interest in the film has changed.

“What?” you say loudly, straightening in the backseat. Your manager frowns, and you sit obediently, but the scowl doesn’t leave your face. “What do you mean the actress changed?”

“Yeah. She had to leave the movie at the last minute,” he sighs.

Sooyoung was chosen alongside you, after lengthy interviews testing whether the two of you would be able to handle your characters’ dynamic. It took weeks for the director to decide that you were the pair that she wanted, so the news that you’ll be meeting your costar for the first time in front of paparazzi is quite the shock to your system. “Shit. Then who’s the replacement?”

Your manager presses his lips together firmly before answering, “Park Chaeyoung. She’s an idol.”

You groan and slump down again. “Great. Another idol actress? Please don’t tell me that this is her first role too. Oh god, is she straight?”

“Yes to all of the above,” Chan says tensely.

Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it’s honestly a big deal. It’s the first leading role you’ve bagged, especially in a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie, and Sooyoung was the best costar you could’ve picked. You’ve never met Park Chaeyoung before, and you already know that all your plans are going to be messed up.

Chan pulls the car into the parking lot, and you scowl when you realize that most of the paparazzi have arrived. “We’re going around the back. Y/N, promise me one thing: don’t make a scene, okay?” your manager pleads. “I’m not happy about it either, but Chaeyoung has a good reputation. You’ll just ruin yours if you blow up at her.”

“I promise,” you answer through gritted teeth. You slip through the open side door as soon as you get out of the car, ignoring Chan’s call after you to have a good time like you would’ve.

To make matters worse, you don’t even get a chance to talk to the director or Chaeyoung before you’re swarmed by a crowd of reporters, even if that ‘talk’ would’ve consisted of more yelling than anything. “Y/N, Y/N!”

“Okay, let her up!” Seulgi shouts, pushing her way through. She grips your arm to lead you towards the cast table, whispering under her breath, “I’ll explain later. But just run with it, okay?”

You have plenty of problems with idol actresses, but you’ve never been inclined to say all those problems to their faces. Until now, that is. Now, you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with a girl you know has absolutely no credentials to be playing the other role in your upcoming movie, resisting the urge to ball your script up and throw it in her face.

There’s nothing wrong with Park Chaeyoung as a person-- she’s admittedly gorgeous, probably sweet, and you’re sure she isn’t a bad actress in any sense. The only thing wrong with the situation is that she’s painfully straight and auditioning to be your love interest in what might be Korea’s first mainstream lesbian film, and that you have never spoken to her before.

Chaeyoung avoids your stare with a clenched jaw, and in normal circumstances, you would already be apologizing profusely for making her uncomfortable. In this circumstance, though, your obvious grudge against her only contributes to the dynamic her character is supposed to have with yours.

“Miss Kang, is it true that the actors were only picked today?”

The director grimaces, and the both of you turn to look at the cameras flashing by the sides of the room. It was never the plan to allow paparazzi to sit in on the first reading that you and Chaeyoung would be doing together, especially since it’s true that Chaeyoung was only chosen hours ago, after the original actress bailed. Even though your grudge should be against the girl who left, it’s easier to glare at the one sitting next to you. “Not exactly. Y/N has been confirmed for the role of Luna for months, but we recently added Chaeyoung as Helen. But we can assure that their chemistry will be wonderful,” Seulgi reassures the audience. What a lie.

Yet another reporter calls out, “How much of the script will we be seeing today, and when will the trailer be released?”

“Since the casting was changed today, the trailer has been delayed,” Seulgi says. You can hear the panic in her voice, and clear your throat. “As for the script… we’re only doing part of one scene that will show up in the trailer today, so we’ll just let them begin. Y/N?”

As you take a sip of water to prepare yourself, you almost hope that Chaeyoung messes up her part. It would be bad press, sure, and it would only contribute to Seulgi’s stress, but it would be satisfying for her to realize that she doesn’t deserve her part. She’s just an idol, after all, and she’s taking away representation from the people who need it.

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you begin, your voice ice-cold.

You watch Chaeyoung’s throat bob, but her voice is steady and clear when she says her line. “No! I’m not saying that I’m better than you… but by all accounts, there’s no way you should have this power.”

“Would you be less scared then?” You pause, watch as Chaeyoung’s expression changes to the panic that her character’s would. “I’m kidding, Helen. I did things to get these powers, things that I’m not proud of.”

“Why would you do that? You’re strong… you don’t need them.”

“I’ve never been-- shit.” The tips of your ears start to burn, and suddenly, your lines are swimming before your eyes. Maybe all your hoping and wishing that Chaeyoung messes up has reflected onto you instead.

She attempts to remind you, “I haven’t always--”

“I know,” you hiss, but your voice is too loud in the silent room. Chaeyoung turns bright pink, too, but you still can’t seem to say your lines out loud. Shit, shit, shit--

“I’m just trying to help,” she sighs.

You whip your head to glare at her, and she winces at the daggers you send in her direction. “Shut the hell up--”

“Okay, the script reading will end here,” Seulgi announces loudly, and you bite down hard on your tongue. You don’t dare to look at the other cast members, don’t dare to think about how they must be guilting you for cutting their PR short. “Thank you everyone, please leave with security.”

You stay in your seat, staring at your script with burning eyes until you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt. “Hey,” Chaeyoung reminds you, “we can leave.”

“Don’t touch me” is your only answer, and you storm out of the room. Alone.

The next time you see Chaeyoung is the next day, at a script-reading that the paparazzi knows nothing about. (You do see a friend request from a Park Chaeyoung the night before, but you ignore it.)

Seulgi attempts a smile, but it doesn’t hide the bags under her eyes. She claps and raises her voice to get the cast’s attention. “Okay, everyone. We didn’t get what we wanted yesterday, but that’s fine. Um… let’s try yesterday’s scene from Chaeyoung’s part, okay? From ‘you don’t need them’.”

Chaeyoung nods. “You’re strong… you don’t need them,” she starts, worry tinging into her voice.

“I haven’t always been strong,” you reply, your voice harsher than it should be just to stop yourself from messing up again.

“Still. Powers aren’t everything, Luna, it’s too hard to have them.”

You sigh. “Newsflash, princess. It’s harder not to.”

“But--” Chaeyoung interjects.

“Did you ever think,” you cut her off, “that I didn’t care that it’d be hard? Did you ever think that the rest of us are tired of you abusing the thing that you’re given, but we have to fight for?”

You look right to Seulgi once you finish, ignoring the part underneath that says you should look to Chaeyoung at the end of the scene. The director smiles anyway. “That was great, you two. I think you capture the tension perfectly, which is a relief.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “I know that changing our main cast so close to the actual production is really difficult,” Seulgi sighs. “And I’m really sorry to inconvenience you all. The schedule is really squished now, and we just have to work through it. Chaeyoung, Y/N, all I ask is that you try to work together, okay? I know you’ll be amazing together.”

Chaeyoung speaks, possibly for the first time besides her lines. “Of course, Ms. Bae. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure. We have to cut this short, again, but we’re scheduled for costume fitting right now,” Seulgi groans. “We have to at least get the outfits for the trailer to fit. Sorry, everyone. Down the hall, okay?”

Of course, you and Chaeyoung have to get fit together. The only sound in the hallway is that of her heels clicking on the wood, and you resist the urge to shout at her to stop. Luckily, you arrive in the fitting room before you can.

Your eyes widen at the dress hanging there. It’s incredible, even without the layers that would support the skirt-- you can’t even imagine how the beading and pink silk would look on Chaeyoung. Ethereal, probably. “Y/N, yours is here,” the costume director laughs, beckoning you over.

Even though your own outfit isn’t nearly as opulent, you can’t help but admire the gold detailing on the cuffs and the tailoring. “Thank god yours doesn’t take so much sewing,” the director grunts, pinning the side. “You know, the two of you are going to look fantastic in these, even if we have to spill all that blood on them to shoot the trailer.”

“Sooyoung would’ve looked better.” It’s mean, and it’s a low blow, but the director doesn’t take your bait.

She pokes her head out to where Chaeyoung’s being fitted. “Now? Okay, Y/N, go out there. We need to take a look at the two of you together.”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping when you see Chaeyoung. She’s all candyfloss hair and gold adorning her tiny waist, and in all her glory, you can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe she was made for the role. “You look really good,” she compliments softly.

Nodding stiffly, you turn for the seamstresses. Chaeyoung moves to fiddle with her gloves when she realizes that you have absolutely no interest in continuing the conversation.

Well, if there’s one thing you can nitpick about her, it isn’t how she looks; she looks absolutely perfect for the role of Princess Helen, maybe even more perfect than Sooyoung.

One of the costume directors steps in. “Okay, you can get changed out, but you have to come back in a few hours,” she tells you. “We have to make a lot of changes, then fit you again.”

You step down from the podium, going towards your dressing room without a second thought until Chaeyoung calls for you. “Y/N? Do you want to have lunch later? In your trailer or something?”

“Sure,” you answer, barely glancing back. When you do, all you see is her with shiny puppy eyes, and in her giant gown, it’s eerily similar to the role she’s supposed to be playing.

“It’s nice. You’ve decorated it?”

You nod absentmindedly, clearing the narrow couch off for yourself to sit on, since Chaeyoung has taken the only chair that could fit in the trailer. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had it for a few months, so.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you frown. Chaeyoung apologizes too much, but at least she’s upfront about whatever she has to say.

Your costar sighs, “For usurping the role? You must’ve gotten attached to Sooyoung, and it’s got to be horrible for me to just… arrive like this.”

“You know… that’s part of it.” You can’t lie; a big part of the resentment you hold against Chaeyoung is the fact that she took a role meant for someone else, someone you were friends with. “The other thing… I don’t like idol actresses,” you tell her.

Chaeyoung’s brows furrow, and she leans forward. “Why? I mean, why don’t you?”

You pause to think about it. “Well… I mean, think about it like this. Sooyoung and my auditions went for weeks before we were chosen, as a pair. Didn’t you get this role because you were an idol? You had to audition, sure, but I bet you just flashed a few smiles and read the script and got chosen. How is that fair?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you hold your hand up and continue, “And the other thing. You’re straight.”

Chaeyoung chokes on air at that, spluttering, “What? You hate me because I’m straight?”

“No,” you say incredulously, “Well, I don’t hate you. But you being straight, and landing the lead role in a film like this… you’re taking away representation. And that’s kind of shitty of you.”

The air inside the trailer becomes suffocating, and Chaeyoung’s fiddling with the jacket in her lap finally stops when she throws it aside and stands up. She sounds like she’s about to cry when she says quietly, “Have you ever considered that I’m not straight? It’s not… it’s not that easy to be out about it--”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you groan. “Look, I apologize for assuming, but if you want to act in lesbian roles, you can’t pretend to be straight. It’s all for your fans, isn’t it? Another part of being an idol--”

She stands up, then storms right out of the trailer without another word, the door banging closed. The only thing you can do in response is sigh and utter a quiet, “Shit”.

Perhaps it’s just your luck that the first proper scene you have to film with Chaeyoung is your culminating kiss scene.

It shouldn’t be in the trailer at all-- according to the scene schedule, the two of you would’ve filmed your scenes together in chronological order, and the kiss would’ve been at the end, hopefully after a reconciliation between the two of you. However, for some inexplicable reason, it’s going to be the first one you do, without a single second of rehearsal.

You’re a one-take wonder, and you always have been, but you can’t help but think about how impossible it’s going to be to pull off such an intense scene with someone you just fought with. Sighing, you lean over to fiddle with your hair; it’s slightly tangled now, and there’s a fake scrape on the side of your cheek.

At a side, Chaeyoung is similarly beat up, fake blood smeared on the left side of her face. Her long hair has been put in an updo and then taken down, and parts of her dress are ripped; to you, she looks more like Helen than herself now.

“Okay, everyone, are we ready? Positions, please!”

You arrange yourself on the ground where you should be, holding a handkerchief to your cheek like instructed as Chaeyoung stands by the camera to run to you. Exhaling sharply, your eyes meet hers for the first time in days. “Action!”

Chaeyoung sprints to you as soon as she’s cued, falling in front of you in a heap. “Luna,” she gasps, reaching a gloved hand out to the ‘injured’ half of your face.

“I’m fine,” you smile weakly. The camera hovers by Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and you soften your gaze as much as possible as your hand comes up to hers.

The other girl only moves closer, her eyes scanning yours and her dress surrounding the both of you like a sea of gauze. Her nose is almost brushing up against yours, and you mutter softly, “Be careful. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Well, what do you want?” Chaeyoung implores, almost inaudible. Her breath quivers, and you feel it when you reach forward to cup her jaw. “Luna, what do you want right now?”

“I’m not making a move until you tell me to,” you shake your head.

The blonde’s hands slip off your face, and she braces herself on your thighs instead. She laughs breathily, “Coward.”

“Your coward, huh?”

Chaeyoung pauses, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip. It’s so quiet that you think you could hear a pin drop, and the torches held up by the crew flicker across her face so naturally. “If you want to be.”

There’s probably another line that comes after, but with Chaeyoung so close to you, it swims blurrily in your mind. So instead, you just lean up, pull her down, and connect your lips.

She plays along, thankfully, stumbling slightly in her character’s eagerness to get a little closer. The only thing you can hear is Chaeyoung’s slight gasp when you let your hands wander down to her waist, and it’s almost scary how absorbed you are in the scene.

“Okay, cut!” Seulgi’s shout breaks you from your trance, and you hold your hands up as if in surrounder. Chaeyoung’s cheeks are red yet again when she sits up, staring anywhere other than you.

Your director hops off her chair to run towards you, a huge grin on her face. “That was perfect,” she shouts. “Y/N, I think you forgot a line? But it worked out amazingly. The one-take wonder, right?”

You grin when she pats you on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Apparently, all your worries were for nothing, as you and Chaeyoung stand to monitor your own shot in the screen next to Joohyun.

You can’t even hear all the praise she showers on the two of you, and you pay no attention to all the details she points out that apparently showcase your perfect chemistry with your costar. All you feel is a slight squeeze on your hand, hidden in the mess of fabric by your side.

You jolt awake at the sound of your phone ringing loudly by your side, finding an unknown number as the caller ID. Accepting hesitantly, you greet, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Did Chan give me the right number?”

Oh. It’s Chaeyoung. “Yeah.” You clear your throat in an attempt to sound a little less drowsy, then repeat, “Right number. Why’d you ask Chan?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to find you when you never accepted my request,” she laughs quietly. “Um, I have to record the OST today, and I was wondering whether you’d want to come watch? Chan said you didn’t really have any scenes later today.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll ask Chan to bring me,” you answer, then hang up. Your head swims slightly, partially due to the fact that you woke up to the piercing sound of your ringtone and partially because you just don’t understand why Chaeyoung’s reaching out again. You should be the one apologizing, after the tangent you went off on, and you highly doubt that your kiss scene doubled as an apology. Of course, you’ll take it.

Your manager is more than pleased to pick you up this time, but thankfully, he doesn’t question you. If he did, he’d probably be the one you shouted at.

The studio is honestly too small for two people, probably hastily set up, but you recognize the recording equipment from a video of Chaeyoung recording one of her group’s songs. And you recognize the girl already standing in the recording booth, waving you over. “Hi,” she smiles, and for all you try, you don’t see a hint of malice.

“Hey,” you mumble, taking a seat. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Wow, straightforward,” she tries to joke. “What for?”

You scratch the back of your neck, sighing, “For assuming, for blowing up on you, for… I don’t know, kind of everything. I’m an asshole, even if what I said wasn’t wrong.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, fiddling with the mic. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but I wasn’t great either. You definitely had some truth behind what you said, even if it was kind of too to the point.”

“I know. You were just trying to apologize and help us become civil, and I kind of ruined it,” you hum. The other girl adjusts the lyric stand as you continue, “But I’m hoping you understand why I had to say what I did?”

“I do,” she agrees. “You’re definitely right that it’s not good representation at all, I just wish you had heard me out.”

You nod uncomfortably, changing the way you sit on the couch just to distract yourself. “So… you’re gay? I’m just asking because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it, and I’ve seen plenty of your interviews.”

“So you watch my interviews?” Chaeyoung teases. When you scowl, she just smiles, “I can’t say specifically, but I am confused. You said last time that it’s just another part of being an idol, and you’re… you’re right. It’s taboo for idols to be gay, even though Korea’s opening up to it a bit more now. So even though I want to, I don’t think I can ever be out about it.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

She swallows, throat bobbing. “Thank you. Hey, Y/N… would you mind singing with me?”

“What?” You stare up at her incredulously; it’s not like your singing would make the other girl faint on the spot, but you definitely don’t possess an angelic voice like hers, either.

But maybe it’s an olive branch. “Just… can you match this note?” She hums, and you attempt to create the same pitch. “Okay. Can you do the chorus part in that key, while I do it in the main one? We’ll sound better like that,” Chaeyoung offers.

Against your better judgement, you stand, and shuffle into the recording booth next to her. “If this sounds bad, you’re taking the blame,” you warn, and she giggles while twisting the stand so you can see.

You do sound good together, maybe to a level that you would’ve never anticipated.

You know that something’s off when Chan doesn’t wake you up bright and early on your birthday, even if Seulgi already promised that you wouldn’t have to go to work on the day of. After spending many a birthday with him, you’ve already gotten used to him tugging you up just to take you outside and celebrate somehow.

You know something’s especially off when you hear a female voice cursing from your kitchen, and smell something burning.

“Who the shit-- Chaeyoung?”

The girl turns in surprise, caught red-handed with a piece of burnt toast pinched between her fingers. “Um. Hi?” she offers weakly.

Suddenly self-conscious, you cross your arms over the faded sweatshirt you wear. In your own apartment, Chaeyoung is leagues more put-together in the summery dress she wears, her dyed hair tossed in a braid and glitter shining at the corners of her eyes. “Hello?”

“Chan said you wouldn’t be awake for a few hours,” she sighs, shaking her head as she tosses the toast in the trash. “And I wasn’t supposed to burn the toast.”

“What were you supposed to do?” you question, stepping closer. There’s a cake box on the counter, as well as a couple suspicious tubes of icing right by it, and you think you know what’s going on.

Chaeyoung huffs out an exasperated breath. “I was supposed to surprise you. Chan has something going on at home, so he sent me to supervise your birthday instead. Obviously, I messed that up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, taking a seat at the counter and reaching for the icing. “I’ve always wanted to decorate a cake anyway.”

She looks surprised at that, but a smile breaks out across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. It’s partially a lie, but you’re decently sure that Chaeyoung will refuse to let you do most of the work anyways. “Uh. I’ll just change first, and then we can get that going?”

“Yeah,” she grins, and you take it as your cue to scurry off to the bedroom.

By the time you come back, there’s a plate of not-burnt toast on your counter, and Chaeyoung’s pouring out two glasses of the juice that you can never bring yourself to buy because of the price tag. “I hope you like it, this is one of my favorites.”

“Like it? I love this,” you gasp, surging forward to pick up one of the glasses. “It’s expensive as hell, though.”

“Well, I couldn’t get you a gift, so I thought a nice morning would suffice,” Chaeyoung laughs. She unties the bow on the cake box to reveal a completely bare vanilla cake, a few packets of sprinkles that you hadn’t noticed now lying next to it. “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, sure.” You choose the blue icing after a bit of debating, and pick up the spatula that your costar offers you. “You didn’t have to, though, I would’ve been okay on my own today.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, and I wouldn’t like to be alone on my birthday.”

“How do you usually celebrate?” you question, glancing up at her.

She pauses to think, then answers, “Well, I do live with my members, so we’ll get something to eat. Sometimes, we’re on vacation, so we just do what we can, but I like staying in the dorm to receive the things that their families send me.”

“It sounds sweet.”

“It is,” she grins. “I honestly don’t know what I would do on my own, it seems lonely-- Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is kind of lonely,” you admit, squeezing a glob of icing out. It’s definitely not as graceful as you would’ve appreciated, and you catch Chaeyoung stifling a laugh. “Chan lived with me at the beginning, but he eventually moved out when I got a girlfriend. Obviously, that didn’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” the other girl repeats again, and you wave a hand out. “When was that?”

“She moved out two years ago,” you answer. “And I’ve been alone since. Or, lonely, not always alone.”

Chaeyoung nods just so that you know she heard you. She accepts the icing tube when you hand it to her, making a spiral that’s infuriatingly better than yours. “How about you? I know you said you aren’t out, but have you dated yet?” you question.

She shakes her head, admitting, “Not yet. I don’t really know how to, you know? You assumed I was straight when you first saw me, so I think everyone else does too.”

“Sorry,” you say, an echo of her.

Your costar doesn’t respond, only setting the spatula down once the basic blue icing is smooth. “I think we’re supposed to refrigerate this before decorating, right?”

You grimace. “Well, I don’t know. I stopped watching cake videos years ago, so I’ll just listen to you.”

Chaeyoung hums and ties the box back up. “Okay, then I’ll just do it. Um, do you mind ordering chicken or something while we wait?”

“Sure.” Reaching for your phone, you ask, “Would you be opposed to romcoms?”

“I’m never opposed to romcoms,” the other girl answers.

You have to remind yourself to order two servings of chicken, something that you haven’t done in a while. But it’s comforting, in a way, to not be alone again.

“Can you believe we’ve only got a week left of filming? I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

You wince guiltily, even though you know that Yerim doesn’t mean it. Acting with your friend was originally a huge incentive for you to accept the film’s role, but the two of you quickly discovered that you had almost no scenes together, and with your push-and-pull with Chaeyoung, you forgot all about it. “Sorry, Yerim.”

She makes an incredulous expression, swatting your arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m happy you’re pursuing love and all that, and besides, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to act together.”

Blinking, you set your cup down on the counter. “Pursuing love?”

Yerim raises her eyebrow and says, “Yeah. Aren’t you and Chaeyoung together yet? We’ve been filming for two months, I’ll be shocked if you still haven't kissed and made up.”

“Uh. Well, we’ve kissed, but I don’t think it counted,” you frown.

Your friend sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s all too used to how dense you are, and apparently, she’s finally gotten tired of it. “You’re an idiot. You literally met the morning of your first script reading, and you knew each other for… what, a week before you had your kiss scene? There’s got to be something there.”

“No.”

Right on cue, a few of the other cast members arrive, Chaeyoung sandwiched between them. “Have you seen the articles?” Nayeon grins, waving her phone around in the air. She’s drunk, obviously, but you have to indulge her.

“Which articles?”

She shoves the screen in your face as an answer, and you cringe when you find a screencap of you and Chaeyoung. “You won’t believe the chemistry-- nope, I’m not reading that.” You hand the phone back to Nayeon, then press it in her hand when she doesn’t take it. Yerim sends you a knowing expression, one that you definitely don’t like.

“Aw, come on! It’s good press,” Nayeon whines. “And a great kiss scene.”

“Don’t be weird,” Chaeyoung warns. She doesn’t seem to be drunk at all, though she does look fantastic in the silver dress that she wears. Your eyes linger on her for an embarrassing amount of time.

Nayeon pouts. She’s bubbly-- you’ve learned that much through acting alongside her in a total of three productions so far. You note that your costar doesn’t seem to be so accustomed to her temperament yet. “You’re no fun, Chaeng. We all know you enjoyed it.”

She goes bright pink at that amidst Yerim’s joking coos. “The token straight, converted?” your friend gasps, and you elbow her to stop her from going too far.

Apparently, it already has. “I didn’t!” Chaeyoung defends herself.

“Prove it,” Nayeon demands, slipping when she attempts to lean on the counter next to you.

Chaeyoung goes silent at that, apparently unable to find a way to ‘prove it’. You finally sigh, “Okay, I think that’s enough teas--”

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve long since memorized your entire script book, you would almost think that Chaeyoung reaching forward to tug on the front of your shirt is a scene between your two characters. After all, it’s perfectly in character for your eyes to widen comically as the other girl kisses you right on the lips.

It’s also in character for Nayeon to start whooping next to you when your hands wrap around Chaeyoung’s waist to pull her in closer. You part at the noise. “You certainly look like you liked it,” Nayeon grins.

“Yeah, get a room,” Yerim follows, and you shove her.

“You know what? Maybe we will.” Ignoring your friends’ jeering, you grab Chaeyoung’s wrist and lead her down the hallway, though not to a bedroom like you joked you would. “Hey. You okay? I didn’t know if that teasing crossed a line,” you whisper worriedly.

She bites down on her lip, but instead of answering you, Chaeyoung tilts your face up and leans closer, only stopped by your hand on her wrist. “Chae…”

“I’m sorry, this… this isn’t what you want, is it?” She steps back, mouth already opening to apologize, but you stop her from leaving you alone in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” With the flashing neon lights echoing in her eyes, you can’t tell what Chaeyoung’s feeling, and you can’t tell if she’s willing to answer you properly at all. “I’m not making a move until you tell me to.”

Still, you don’t hear her say a word, until your grip starts to loosen on her wrist. “Did you drive here yourself?” she finally asks, barely audible. You nod hesitantly, and Chaeyoung’s voice grows firmer when she says, “I’m telling you to make a move.”

“I thought you were questioning?”

She swallows hard and takes your hand. “Not anymore.”

You don’t taste any alcohol when you lick your lower lip, and so, you nod. It’s stupid, especially considering how quickly your time together is about to end.

But for once, you know what you want.

“Good luck out there, Chae,” you smile, arms wrapped around the girl’s waist.

“Thanks,” she hums, adjusting her hair yet again in the mirror. “We’re almost done filming, I have to promote us well so that we have enough money to at least put the damn film out.”

“Mm.” Your thumb smooths over the sliver of skin exposed by her top, and you place your chin on her shoulder to look at the two of you together.

She glances down at you. “What? Are you thinking about something?”

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just can’t believe we’re almost done, but we… we just started this. You know, this thing between us.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a thing. But it doesn’t have to stop with filming,” Chaeyoung says offhandedly.

Raising an eyebrow, you question, “Doesn’t it? It’s going to be suspicious for us to constantly be seen together after filming together, I’ve seen the way your fans behave. Especially while you’re not out.”

“I think I can negotiate that with my company,” the other girl shakes her head.

You joke, “What, you release another two albums if you get to come out about having a girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Chaeyoung responds immediately. Her ears pink endearingly, and you wait for her to clarify, “In secret for now, obviously. But… one day, I’ll be out about it. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises, okay?” You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her go when you hear a knock at the dressing room door. “Do good!”

“Alright, Chaeyoung, it’s about time that we ask you some questions about your upcoming film, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” your costar smiles, and you raise your head from your phone to watch the screen. She’s sitting cross-legged across from some of the most famous idol interviewers in Korea, absolutely poised and natural even in front of the crowd that cheers over the interview.

The woman behind the podium clears her throat. “A huge talking point in Korea right now is your chemistry with your costar, Y/N. How exactly do you pull that off, since you’ve never experienced a relation like that?”

Chaeyoung laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, um, I don’t have much experience with relationships at all, so--”

“Really? A pretty girl like you must have had a boyfriend or two before.” You despise the way that the interviewer leans in conspiratorially, as if the prying questions weren’t completely scripted. “But you seem a little to pretty to have experienced that, am I right?”

The crowd laughs with her, but Chaeyoung glances behind the scenes, probably to where her own staff sits. “You know, you can tell me if you ever felt… uncomfortable during filming,” the interviewer continues on. “Y/N has been out for years, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, she has…” You’re practically fuming, but you also can’t seem to pry your eyes away from the screen. All of Chaeyoung’s practiced idol-charm has seemed to dissipate into thin air, and she’s practically blending into the wall as she sits there.

The Chaeyoung you know-- no, the Chaeyoung that you’ve come to know, wouldn’t stand to hear something like that. You’ve watched her argue with a scriptwriter, and you’ve watched him get fired because he said something incredibly offensive, even though it wasn’t about you. But here, she sits still and just listens to the interviewer discuss you behind your back, and she says nothing about all the disgustingly backhanded comments.

The thing is, you don’t care about Chaeyoung not being out. You were closeted for enough time yourself, and you know how hard it is, so you’d never wish it on her; but watching her completely let go of all her personal principles just for a stupid interview is just another reminder that you’re letting go of your own. Chaeyoung won’t ever speak up, you realize, because her career comes before anything else. And you can’t stand for that.

“I’m leaving,” you tell the guard standing outside of your door. Only increasing your anger, tears start to burn in your eyes, and you scrape your sleeve across your face as roughly as you can. Chan picks up on one dial, and you say furiously, “Pick me up. It’s over.” In more ways than one.

Chaeyoung shivers at the top of the hill, where she’s supposed to be filming her closing scene with you. She hasn’t seen you for the past week, and after how disastrous her interview was, she’s pretty sure she knows why.

“Where’s Y/N?” she finally asks her makeup artist, giving in to her own curiosity.

Felix shrugs, reaching to mess with the blood on her hairline. “I have no idea, honestly, I haven’t seen her yet. She’s never late, though, you don’t have to worry. You’ll get your scene done.”

“That’s…” Chaeyoung sighs. That’s why she should be worried. “Right.”

“Okay, can we start?” Seulgi shouts. It’s started to rain, but with the excited look on the director’s face, Chaeyoung figures that it suits the scene even better than the gray clouds that had been planned. “Great. Chaeyoung, Y/N!”

Your hair is plastered to your forehead with the rain, and water makes your blouse cling to your curves; with the grim expression on your face, Chaeyoung could easily just mistake you for your character. “Hi,” you mutter, taking a seat on the grass right next to your costar. You say nothing else.

When cued, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath before her line. “Luna. I love you.”

For a second, Chaeyoung thinks you won’t respond, but the rasp to your voice proves her wrong. “No. No, you don’t.”

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that, don’t you?” The blonde raises her eyebrows, reaching forward hesitantly for your shoulder.

Of course, you dodge it. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you’re resigned when you ask, “You have your birthday gala tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes, but--” Chaeyoung swallows, lets her hand make contact, then continues, “I’m spending as much time as I can with you, aren’t I with you right now?”

“But you’re going.” It feels like you’re staring right into Chaeyoung’s soul when you speak, as despondent as your voice is. She nods, and you stand, her hand slipping off of your shoulder and into her lap. “Then go. You’re still a princess at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“At the end of the day, yes…”

“You can’t do that. You sneak out onto my ships, get my people to love you and protect you, and then turn right back to your family to stay safe while we die for you. You can’t say you support our cause and then go back on it when it’s inconvenient for you, it doesn’t work like that!” Chaeyoung flinches at how intense you sound; at this point, she barely knows if it’s still acting. She can only hear her own heart in her ears, can only see your chest heaving from how quickly you spoke, and it all feels too real.

“What, do you want me to get found out?” Chaeyoung demands, getting to her feet as well. The rain becomes harsher, angled so that it perfectly blurs her vision of you. “I’ve saved your ass just as many times too, don’t pretend like I’m not a valuable part of your ship!”

“You’re still pretending.” Realizing that it’s not the right line, Chaeyoung opens her mouth to stop you, but your voice chills her into silence when you speak again. “You’ll always pretend, as long as it benefits you, won’t you? You can’t do that, Helen, not if you ‘love me’. Putting a crown on your head doesn’t mean that you’re a princess. Until you realize that, and until you’re willing to embrace it, you don’t love me. and I don’t love you.”

None of it is the script. None of it is the scene that you rehearsed a thousand times together in your trailer, but somehow, it makes Chaeyoung’s heart quaver in her throat so much more than the original lines ever did.

And when you drop your gaze to the ground, turning to walk off into the rain alone, she knows that to you, your entire relationship is already done.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #rosé x reader #rosé imagines #rosé scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink rosé #blackpink chaeyoung #park chaeyoung #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung imagines #blackpink is the revolution #blackpink in your area #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios

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lebrookestore · 3 years

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Collab hosted by @heartyyjeno and @neojaems

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐧

Pairing: Qian Kun x reader

Themes: richkid au-ish, royalty au-ish, slight humour, ANGST, strangers to lovers, betrayal, suspense, drugs, murder, cruises, pride and prejudice

Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, drugs, smoking, betrayal, drugging, making out, messed up stuff honestly

Wc: 17.1k

Taglist: @danishmiilk @channoticedmeuwu @chicksung @1-800-seo @blueprint-han @jenosslut @cupidluvstarrz @kkakkdugi @sweetlyjaem @vera-liscious @leetaeyonglover @kunrengui @unknown5tar @kisshim @the-rooftop-fight @rueyins @kiri-ah @sly-merlin @alicanta77 @rouiyan @jae-dreamin @peachyyjaes @girlwithmightymuses-deactivated @jenoleemonade @radiorenjun

Summary: Many things can happen on a cruise ship, most of them are unexpected. Secrets are exposed, arrangements are brought to light and love can bloom- but when the secrets and arrangements clash, will the love survive? [loosely based on the Opera; Tristan and Isolde]

Playlist: here

Authors note: My first collab fic!!! I honestly really love how this turned out, and I hope you do too! Take this as a thank you for 400 as well, since I have literally nothing else planned rip. Thanks to Mina for letting me scream about this fic to her and feedback would be really appreciated! Without further ado, I present to you: Love Shot!

“Lady Y/n”, the woman greeted you, bowing respectfully. You smiled softly, touching her shoulder to indicate that it was alright. “Winter”, you said fondly, “You know I don’t care for formalities”, you reminded the girl, who nodded eagerly, and took your bags.

Sighing tiredly, you stood at the entrance, waiting for Winter to return and guide you to your room on the cruise ship, where you would be staying for the next three months. The air was crisp, more breathable than it was in the city. Crossing one hand over the other, standing up straight, you exude confidence and an air of authority, something everyone around you acknowledged and respected.

Your family was and would always be one of the most respected families in Japan. You had money, a name, and many many enemies. There was always someone on the prowl, ever ready to steal your family’s worth, to ruin its reputation. Your father had gotten the family estate when the wealth had been divided amongst him and his brothers, and that had only added up to your net worth. As the daughter of one of the richest men in the world, you had big shoes to fill, especially since you had no siblings.

You had had your fair share of bad publicity, and drama. Scandals always lazily floated around, and at this point, you welcomed them like an old friend. Added some spice into your otherwise very structured life.

A year ago, your father had died, leaving all the responsibilities to fall upon you. He had been found dead one morning in his bed, your mother shaking as she sat on the edge, looking on at her dead husband with a crazed look in her eyes. There were rumours and suspicions, but you decided to pay no heed to them.

And with all these new responsibilities, you made the news more times than you cared to count, and the way the media preyed on the tragedy, highlighting it, using it against you. Your mother was at her wit’s end, a broken shell of the commanding woman she was before. You heeded every request of hers, and fulfilled any wish, no matter how idiotic. Your life had changed, but at the same time, it hadn’t. You were still the same filthy rich girl from before.

Winter returned, a rosy hue on her cheeks as she greeted you once more. “This way Ma’am”, you grabbed her arm, glaring mockingly, “Y/n”, you asserted, “You’re never this formal Win, what happened?”

“It’s my job”, she said sheepishly, “And I’m a little out of it, please don’t pay any attention to it”

You wanted to prod her further but decided to respect her privacy, and silently followed her down the halls of the ship, studying your surroundings. It was clear the place was dripping with money, nothing you weren’t used to. With the gold plating and jewel-encrusted chandeliers, you felt more at home than on a vacation.

Well, it wasn’t really a vacation now, was it?

This was business, for your family. A set plan, rules and things you had to do. Even thought it was all arranged, you still had to look pretty and smile and be nice to him.

Stopping in front of a door, she fished out a pair of keys and inserted one of them into the keyhole, opening it and leading you into your room for the stay. It was one of the first-class cabins on the cruise, more spacious than the others. Bowing once again, Winter left you, promising to return to call you for dinner. Sitting down on your bed, you inspected the room, noting its features. It was all the same.

Deciding to get ready for the dinner, you unzipped one of your bags, picking through the garments you had brought along with you. You knew dinners were a big thing, especially if you were of your status, and today would be monumental, especially since you would be meeting someone, and that someone was very important. Finally choosing a silk dress, you slipped it on, retouching your makeup and checking your phone for any updates, you left your room making sure you had your keys with you. The hallways were pretty chilly, so you decided to turn back and get your pullover just in case.

Waiting patiently by your door for Winter, you checked your phone, reading over the message your mother sent you. A list of instructions, a code of conduct for the evening.

You had to impress them.

Once again, Winter showed up, still donning the rosy blush as she regarded you, and began leading you through the winding halls of the ship. She seemed to be very out of it, not completely focusing on the task at hand as she tripped over her own feet. You reached out, grabbing her arm and stabilizing the girl.

“I’m sorry”, she squeaked, “Forgive me”

“Be careful Winter”, you said, “And stop patronizing yourself, you’re never like this”

Flustered, she nodded a little too fast, “I’m sorry Y/n, just following orders”

“Whose orders?”, you asked incredulously. She rested her hand on the gold plated doorknob, turning to you.

“Your mother of course”, she said, before pushing the door open. Hushed whispers traveled across the room at your arrival, the room falling into silence.

Dinner was served.

Kun walked into the dining hall, his eyes dark and alight with amusement. He slipped his hands in his pockets, leisurely making his way to one of the tables. He observed the scene, taking note of the crowd. Jazz music played softly in the background, setting the mood. Clicking his tongue, he pulled out a chair taking a seat at the table he had chosen.

He wasn’t alone, there were two other men sitting there, and a woman. One was his brother, Chenle, who was six years younger than Kun. He looked intimidating for an eighteen-year-old, with a square-ish jaw and large eyes. They were set in a blank stare, as if he was used to this, and was tired of it. He regarded Kun with a nod, before going back to his food.

The other was his uncle, Akira, who was only ten years older than Kun himself, being the youngest brother from his mother’s side. He was dressed in an expensive suit, eyes covered with his dark sunglasses. He didn’t even acknowledge Kun, instead, he had his eyes trained on the door, presumably waiting for someone.

The woman was sitting next to Kun, his sister, Yuxi, younger than him by a year. She didn’t even spare a look at Kun, but he was used to it.

A server walked up to the table, handing Kun a menu, and bowing respectfully. He was wearing a white suit, in pristine condition, hair slicked back, shoes polished to the point of reflection. Kun studied the boy, who seemed a few years younger than him. His tag read ‘Heesung’, and he looked bored out of his mind.

“Heesung”, Kun said, “I’d like a glass of Dom Pérignon please”, he requested, to which Heesung nodded, taking note of it in his notepad. “I’ll come back with your drink and order”, he informed Kun as he left.

The doors opened, two women standing there. One was obviously the help of the other, dressed in a black and white uniform. She opened the door wider, exposing the other women to the crowd. She was obviously of some high status, the air around her seemed to hold some sort of authority. She walked down the stairs, her help close behind as she scanned the room to spot a table for herself.

You soon found the table you had been assigned to by your darling mother and walking towards it. You held your head a little higher, asserting a sort of silent dominance over them. Winter pulled out a seat for you, and you thanked her softly, turning to the man on your right.

“Akira, I suppose”, you said, lifting your hand up and shaking his hand. He smiled, “The lovely Y/n”, he said, “I presume your mother has told you about me”

He was handsome, you supposed, in an oldish way. You nodded, “Yes, she has”

“And I hope you are intrigued”, he suggested. You forced a smile, biting down the initial disgust at the older man. “Very much so”, you assured him, turning to the other two, “And you are”, you asked, desperate to avoid any further interaction with Akira.

“Yuxi”, the lady sitting next to Akira introduced herself, holding up a glass of some sort of drink, looking at the other two men.

“I’m Chenle”, the one on your left greeted, smiling slightly. You returned the gesture, looking at the other one expectantly.

“Kun”, he said, disinterest apparent in his tone. “A pleasure to meet you, Y/n”, he said coyly, leaning back in his chair and observed you. Nodding at his curt response, you waited in silence for the waiter to come and take your order. “So who are you?”, Kun asked, to which you blinked in surprise. “You mean you don’t know?”, you asked, not meaning to sound as vain as it came out. You were genuinely shocked at the fact he didn’t know who you were.

“Kun”, Akira warned, “I told you about the lovely Y/n”, he explained, “You know about the deal”

“Was I expected to know her?”, he asked, “To be fair, she's like every other woman here, just richer”

Your eyes widened at his blatant disrespect, as his lips upturned into a smirk, somewhat enjoying your obvious discomfort.

“Ahem”, Heesung interrupted, “Your order?”

Mildly put off, you asked for the meal you wanted, trying not to sink into your seat from embarrassment. If your mother was here, she would’ve given you an earful if you slouched.

Always hold yourself to a higher standard Y/n, she constantly reminded you, Head a little higher than the rest.

Ignore him darling”, Akira advised you. The nickname set a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Excuse me”, you said, “I’m not feeling well”, getting up, you called for Winter, asking her to get your food to your room.

You walked out gracefully, not missing the sly smile that Kun gave you.

Mornings were something you had always looked forward to. You woke up early on most days, while your mother was still asleep, to be alone with your thoughts. It was hard to think with your mother droning on about responsibilities, and things she wanted you to do for her. You had to mindlessly listen, and accomplish every task she set out for you. You were beyond thankful for Winter, who helped you, and single handedly kept you sane. She was your friend, more than a servant, which was why her sudden formality was confusing you.

While your mother wasn’t with you at the moment, you still decided to leave the confines of your bed, and explore the cruise in peace and quiet, perhaps get an early breakfast alone. You changed into acceptable clothing, casual instead of the finery you were used to and tired of, and headed out to the deck. The cool sea breeze was welcoming, making you feel refreshed. You sipped the tea in your hands, cupping the mug to provide some warmth to your fingers, as you leaned against the railing of the ship.

The floors were made of wood, giving it a rustic feel to it. It contrasted the marble interiors, giving it a simpler look. It was homely, more so than your own home. You smiled wantonly, the silence of the scene comforting.

You mother came to mind, as you remembered the deal, the entire reason why you were on this cruise, it wasn’t a happy vacation, on the contrary, it was a welcoming, an introduction to a new family, one you would soon be thrown into.

“You're alone”, a voice observed. You turned around to face the man from yesterday.

“Qian Kun”, you said politely, “It appears so”

You weren’t particularly angry at him for not knowing who you were, in fact, you would go as far as to say, you were relieved.

“Relax, I know who you are, I’m just teasing you”, he said, which destroyed all hopes of you being an unknown person. You raised an eyebrow in the question of his doings, to which he grinned, “Y/n Osaki”.

You nodded, looking down at your tea, not quite knowing what to say. You didn’t know Kun very well, but from the short encounters you had with him, he confused you. You studied him for a moment, trying to understand him. He seemed to be put together, content with himself, yet he took pleasure in trivial things, like getting a reaction out of you.

“Well, I don’t truly know you, other than the fact you’re this rich girl my uncle is interested in”, he quipped, standing at your side and looking out at the sea, not sparing you another glance.

“Uncle?”, you asked slightly horrified. Kun seemed to be around your age, so the thought of Akira being his uncle sounded very messed up, especially since your mother was also rooting for the older man.

Kun hummed in agreement, “he was ten when I was born”, he continued. You decided to ignore that fact, for now, focusing on the subtle dig he had thrown at you. “You’re rich too, or so it seems. Certainly, you’re wealthy if you can afford this cruise”

You hadn’t meant to sound vain or stuck up, but it was true. This wasn’t a cheap stay, especially since you knew they were staying on the first-class level of the ship just as you were. Your mother had told you almost everything about them.

He seemed amused, his dimples appearing as he smiled, “We’re comfortable”

You scoffed at the statement, deciding to take a sip of your tea instead of retorting. The conversation, if you could even call it that, fell into a silence. You tapped against the porcelain of the cup, looking blankly at the water.

He was attractive, dark hair splayed across his forehead, dark grey eyes, lips that seemed to upturn into a smirk easily. He had an easy going demeanor, with a touch of underlying darkness, you supposed. It piqued your interest, but you made sure not to show it.

“See you around Y/n”, he said, walking away, seemingly bored. You watched him disappear under the deck, and suddenly, you were all alone.

Alone with your thoughts.

“And school? How is that going?’, you asked, switching your phone to your other hand as you flipped the page of your book. Your brother bristled at the other end of the line, clearly not pleased with the turn of the conversation, “It’s fine”, he said, “Same old. Sungchan is still trying to woo that lower class girl”, he said this with a snicker, “It’s pathetic really.”

“Tsk”, you clicked your tongue, “Don’t belittle her, she’s smart”

“And not to our standard”, he replied, “Sungchan should know better”

“Shotaro”, you said in a warning tone, “Leave it alone, he’s probably just messing with her. You know how we do things”

“Of course, but it’s turning into an infatuation of sorts, he only talks of her! I’m tired of it”

“Maybe he’s in love”, you suggested, turning the next page. The line went silent, you didn’t worry too much as this gave you time to read a few paragraphs properly, instead of the skimming you had been doing. “And what is love Y/n, hmm?”

“Am I supposed to know?”, you bit back sarcastically. You could hear Shotaro scoff on the other side of the line, “You’re the one getting married, dear sister, and isn’t the eldest sibling supposed to teach the younger one?”

“I am not in love”, you said, “I do not need to teach you anything, pay attention in school instead”

“Love you too Y/n, goodbye”, he said flatly, deciding that if you were to talk of school, he was not going to have any part of it. You shook your head amusedly, placing your phone down and continuing to read. Shotaro was your brother, you were close to him, even with your constant bantering and seemingly formal conversation. It was just how the two of you had been brought up- in a very classy way. You had a reputation to uphold, and a family name to flaunt.

You shifted in your seat, hearing three knocks on the door. “Come in Winter”, you called out, and the girl walked in, holding a box that was wrapped in ribbon, a pretty bow sitting at the top. You placed your book aside, taking the box from her hands. “What is this for?” “Sir Akira sent it”, she explained, dusting down her generic uniform, “Hesaid he would like you to wear it tonight”

You raised an eyebrow at this, skeptical, but nodded. Winter made motion to leave, but you held her hand, “Sit”, you said with a smile, “Talk to me”

“Miss-”

“Y/n”, you reiterated, “Please Winter?”, she sighed at your request, taking a seat next to you on the bed. “You’re keeping your guard up, we grew up together, stop”, she sighed, “I know, I hate this too”

“Do you? This is my room, no one is watching here, now”, you moved over, patting your lap and she grinned, laying her head down on it. “Aren’t you going to open that?”

“Mmhh”, you hummed, pulling the ribbon, letting the cover loose as a pretty red fabric peeked through. You pulled out the dress, studying it.

“It’s pretty”, Winter observed, looking up at your skeptical face. “What happened?”

“I hate it”, you muttered, “It’s tasteful, sure, but I don’t want to wear it”, you folded it and placed it to the side. “I have several of these.” You wondered how Akira had gotten your size perfectly, let alone the similarity in your style of clothing so on point.

“You still have to wear it tonight”, she reminded you, prospering herself up on her elbows, “How’s your brother?” You glanced at her, picking your book up again, “He’s fine”

“Oh what are you reading?”, she asked, “Will you read to me?”

You nodded with a smile playing on your lips, opening the cover of Pride and Prejudice, leaning back and searching for the line you had finished on. The musty pages welcomed you back like an old friend as you indulged in the love story of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. You read about the part, those five chapters where her feelings matured and her opinions changed over time for the man, who she had positively despised before.

You wondered if you’d ever fall for Akira, who you despised too, and was forced into marriage with. Maybe you were a lot like Lizzy Bennet, except you didn’t have a father to back you up.

Duty.

The Osaki Family was very familiar with this term, it was like every second day you heard it. With your family name came responsibilities, expectations and a warped sense of reality. Warped because your reality was very different from most people.

Duty came in different forms. For Shotaro, it was completing his extensive education and taking over the business side of the family, succeeding your father’s work. Your mother’s was to sit there and look pretty, the face of the family as of now, a sympathetic heroine of sorts ever since your father deceased. Yours was to extend family relations, and keep the prestige. You were going to take your mothers place, not something you were particularly looking forward to, but it had to be done.

It was your duty, after all.

The cruise was a way to get away from these duties, by keeping them at the forefront of your mind, replaying like a broken cassette tape.

“Y/n Osaki”, someone called out, and you looked up from your seat. You were sitting on the deck of the ship, reading in peace with your phone by your side in case of emergency. You recognized the woman as Kun’s sister.

“Yuxi, If I’m not mistaken?”, you asked, moving aside on the bench to give her room to sit. She crossed her legs, propping one hand on the backrest of the bench and smiling, “Tis I!”, her voice was cheerful, “I’m terribly bored of being surrounded by my brothers, so I thought I’d find you and talk to one of the female specimens”, she joked, causing your lips to upturn into a smile.

“Talking seems wonderful”, you assured her, “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything honestly, something that isn’t about ‘who’s the man’”, she drawled, an unamused look on her face as she supposedly referenced her brother's banterring. Her eyes cast down to your book, “Jane Austen hmm? My brother loves that book”

“Which one?”

“Kun”, she answered, shifting in her seat, “He can argue for hours about whos the better character,” she smirked, stretching out her legs, “I love my family, but I’m tired of them”

“I understand that far better than you think”, you said, “I sometimes wish we weren’t related”

“You’re one to talk”, she snorted, “You have just about everything you’d ever need and more.”

“I’ll be losing it all in a little, I assume you know this”, you smiled sadly. She nodded, “Alright”, she said, “Perhaps you have everything except freedom”

Kun was tired.

In the event of having to deal with his brother and uncle’s ‘nonsense’ as he called it, he left the table at dinner to search for some quiet. He walked down the hallways of the ship, the soft rumbling of something he couldn’t quite make out reached his ears.

He passed his own room, and several others, before coming to the room he was looking for. It had a red door, washed out and dark so it didn’t really stand out. He pushed it open, entering a sort of mini hallway, with another door at the end.

He walked to that one too, entering a small, dark room. There were boxes and suitcases in there, all from his family.

But they weren’t all luggage.

He scanned the room, trying to remember something, it was like there had been an itch ever since he saw you. Like you had opened a door to a memory, but the memory was hazy, he couldn’t quite catch it. It was like a connection had been established, and he couldn’t quite shake it off.

He sighed in defeat, leaving the room and walking into the hallway once again, only to be met with you, donning a red dress, hair done up in curls. You startled, blinking on seeing him emerge from the side, “Oh”, you said, looking him up and down, “Hello, Kun.”

He took in your pretty features, wondering how you got roped into this.

“Shouldn't you be at dinner?”, Kun asked you, lips turning into a sly smile. You looked at him, seemingly unfazed, “Shouldn’t you?”

“Dinner is nothing special I can assure you that”, he muttered bitterly, “I take you're procrastinating getting there?”

You nodded, “As much as I enjoy your family's company, I am not entertained by your Uncle, no offense”, you rubbed the side of your arms, “This dress was given by him.”

“So that’s why he was talking to your servant”, Kun said, “Alright, let’s skip dinner then.”

“Skip it? My mother would-”

“We won't tell her”, he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ll make up a convincing story.”

You studied him, deeming him sincere and nodding, “Lead the way then”, you gestured, and he took your hand, smirking and leading you down the hallways, “There’s a lounge somewhere here”, he mused, “Ah here.”

The two of you entered a fancy looking lounge that definitely matched the entirety of the cruise ship. There was a bar at the end, and couches in the center. You took a seat, leaning back as he went straight for the drinks

. “Want anything?”, he called, taking a bottle down.

“French 75”, you requested, “You sister told me you liked Jane Austen?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “I do”, he agreed. “Why?” There was that odd feeling again, as if you held some sort of importance, but he couldn’t pinpoint why.

“I mean”, you looked over at the bar, “dinner isn’t going to get over anytime soon and we’re stuck with each other, friendly banter might help pass the time since I don’t have my phone or book with me.”

He hummed in agreement, “Which book are you reading?” “Pride and Prejudice.”

“High class families and their literature”, he hummed. “Alright, what about it?”

“You don’t seem very intrigued by the story”, you observed, taking the cocktail he handed you. “What do you think of Lizzy Bennet’s and Mr. Darcy’s relationship?”

“Lizzy Bennet, in crude terms would be considered a high class bitch.”

“Excuse you?”, you asked, slightly outraged in a playful manner. “She is smart and funny and has some brains, unlike the rest of the sisters.”

“She judged Darcy all too fast don't you think?” He raised his own glass to his lips, keeping his eyes on you as he spoke. “She blatantly disregarded his affections.”

You felt heat rush to your face, mostly in indignant anger, an urge to defend one of your all time favorite heroines of any sort of story. You had always stood by her. Seeing someone ridicule her, though you had invited him to do so, was irking. “She did not! He bitched about her family and confessed, expecting her to be okay with his idiocy?”

You asked him hotly, leaning forward in anticipation for his answer. He seemed amused by your irritation, “He’s a man of class, he’s going to judge a not so upper class family. I mean, you would know of this right?”

“Not if my family was belittled”, you said with a frown, “I see Darcy as the prick who refused to back down because of his goddamn pride.”

“I always thought Elizabeth was the one with pride, and Darcy held the Prejudice against her family.” His argument was strong.

You nodded. “I suppose you’re right, but Lizzy Bennet-”

“Can’t do any wrong?”

You muttered some not so ladylike things under your breath that your mother would’ve had your head for, glaring at the man who sat across you. While you were all up for playful arguing, being interrupted was something you weren't used to—nor did you appreciate it.

“Would you let me speak?”

He smirked, “I suppose you’re defending her because”, he looked at his glass, studying the clear liquid inside it, “you think of yourself as her.”

“I’m done here”, you said quietly, placing your drink down and getting up, refusing to look at him, knowing his smug expression would just irk you more. His accusation, while probably lighthearted, did not sit well with you.

“Goodbye.”

The sun was out the next afternoon, casting its golden rays on the deck of the ship, giving it a lovely, summery feel. Guests bustled and walked about, chatting in groups. A small band played their merriment off to the side, setting the mood with their joyful tunes.

Winter stood off to the side with the rest of the servants, a pensive expression on her pretty face.

You stood with the rest of the crowd, next to Akira’s family, returning the warm smile Yuxi sent you. Apparently, there was supposed to be some sort of performers on the ship to entertain the folk.

You sighed, watching the scene with a polite, yet bored gaze. You would rather be in your room reading, instead of out here. But of course, this was all done from obligation, you had to be there.

Akira shuffled to stand next to you, “I missed you yesterday”, he said, “I was looking forward to seeing you in the dress I got you.”

“I wasn’t feeling too well last night”, you fibbed, eyes meeting Kun’s for a fleeting second, “I appreciate the dress.”

You could feel Kuns smirk, even if you weren’t looking at him. Shifting on your feet, you leaned towards Winter, requesting her to get you a glass of water.

You were still so uncomfortable around Akira, with his easy smile and underlying words. You knew he was being nice because he had to. You were already his, whether you liked it or not. Shivering at the thought, you took the glass from your friend, taking a sip and trying to focus on the band that played a jazz rendition of ‘Seven Nation Army’.

You wondered for a moment, how it would be if you weren’t from the Osaki family. If you were just another girl, instead of leverage for your family. Once Shotaro was of age and finished his schooling, he would take your fathers place, your mother would remain a shell of herself, useless and forgotten.

You would be like her soon.

Yuxi called Akira for something, giving you room to breathe.

“I hope you’re not still angry at me”, Kun’s voice came from behind, an amused lilt to his voice, “About our little miff yesterday.”

You turned to face him, shaking your head, “I’ll admit, my storming off was a tad immature.”

He frowned, studying you. “Why are you so formal all the time?”

The question took you aback, “Sounds like you have a stick up your ass, reminds me of my friend, Ten.”

“You literally just apologized to me, only to insult me once again?”, you asked, wondering how his mind worked. He was so confusing, one moment all proper the next he acted like a regular kid with a crass sense of humour.

A smile stretched out on his lips, “I never apologized Y/n”, he reminded you, “I only asked you if you were still mad.”

“Touche”

“Loosen up a bit”, he said, “Don’t be so high strung all the time.”

You raised an eyebrow at this, “Oh do tell me how”

He grinned, taking your hand in his, intertwining your fingers, “Let’s go then, I have an idea.”

“Oh hell no”

“Oh hell yes”, Kun smirked, “Are you telling me you’ve never had a water balloon fight?”

“You’re telling me this is a regular occurrence for you?”, you asked incredulously. He shook his head, “No, but it's fun, so lets start”, he handed you a bunch of balloons in a bag.

“How the fuck do you even have these? We’re on a cruise?”, your confusion was comical.

The two of you stood in an empty hall in the cruise, and Kun had locked the door so no one would barge inside. Somehow he had accumulated a bizarre amount of balloons all filled with water. You could foresee the mess that was about to befall you.

You silently wondered why the fuck you agreed to this madness. Maybe it had something to do with Kun;s pretty smile.

He shrugged, “Don’t question it. Yuxi me and Chenle fight this way when we want to get away from our Uncle”, he swatted you away, “Now go! Unless you want me to destroy you from the start.”

A challenge.

You never backed down from a challenge.

You thanked yourself for deciding not to wear that summer dress Winter had initially laid out for you, opting for some pants and a shirt instead.

Grabbing the bag, you hurried to the other end of the hall, hiding behind one of the heavy curtains and picking up one of the balloons, getting used to the weight in your palms. All you had to do was hit him right? Seemed simple right?

Wrong. So wrong.

As soon as you felt as ready and slipped out of your hiding place, you were hit on your leg, a cold wet feeling creeping up on your leg. The impact of the balloon made you stumble a little bit as you regained your footing, shooting Kun a dirty look. He smirked in response, “Pay attention L/n”

You felt another hit on your arm, realizing he had taken advantage of the fact you had been distracted. Narrowing your eyes, you flung your own balloon and gracefully missed him, the balloon ending up rolling on the ground sadly.

Embarrassed, you retreated back behind the curtains, grabbing two of your weapons, and scurrying to the other curtain before you could be hit again. Your left pant leg was soaked through, still smarting from the hit and your arm was damp, but your focus was on hitting your opponent.

He chuckled, “Hiding just prolongs this, you know that right?”, he was taunting you, and you scowled, coming out from behind the curtain and throwing your balloon, hitting his calf and making him grunt.

It was your turn to smirk, pleased at your successful attempt.

Your triumphant feeling lasted about for five seconds, until you were hit again.

Damn Qian Kun and his quick thinking.You staggered back and he walked closer, “Gonna stay behind those curtains?”, he asked coyly, “Okay, fine you need incentive.”, He threw another at you, making you whine at your own slowness. “Lizzy Bennet needs to be more forgiving”

He had brought up your argument. He knew it would tick you off, making you want to justify your own point of view.

“Mr. Darcy needs to stop being such a prick!”, you exclaimed, flinging your own balloon at him, hitting his side, making him wince, “And you need to stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m the stubborn one?”, he said, almost whined. Another water missile landed next to your foot, bursting and spraying you with water.

After a few minutes, the two of you were soaked to the bone, your clothes stuck to your skin uncomfortably, but a tired smile stretched out on your lips. His expression mirrored yours as he tried grabbing your arm. The two of you had finished all the water balloons and had been chasing each other around the hall like kids.

For the first time you actually felt like a kid.

You squealed as his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you down with him as he tripped. Falling into him, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him and entrapping you in his embrace.

Laughter bubbled from your lips as you struggled against him, “Leave me!”

He laughed into your hair, “Truce. Lizzy and Darcy are both idiots.”

“That's established!”, you said, “Let me go idiot”

He did, a wide smile on his face, “You’re more comfortable around me now”, he observed.

You realized he was right, you were more comfortable. You liked the smile on his face, the lilt of relief in his voice. The hall was wet in some places. One of you hiding places, the curtains had a big splotch of water on it, you silently wondered how the staff would react to the state at which it was in.

“I am”, you stated, “Not so strung up now?”

He snorted, “I destroyed you in the water balloon fight, I practically knocked you down from your high horse.”

He looked at the smile on your face, liking it. Even though your hair was wet and messed up, he thought you were beautiful, now that your face wasn’t set in a semi permanent haughty expression.

You hit him playfully, not finding it in you to glare at him. His dark hair was wet, and it fell in front of his eyes as he looked at you, feigning a look of hurt. “You wound me.”

“My mission in life”, you snickered. A silence fell upon the two of you, as you rubbed your arms, the cold biting into your skin. You would have to leave soon, take a shower and show up and dinner, all prim and proper again. The thought made your stomach sink, because you had had fun for the first time in a long time.

You met Kun’s eyes, which were sparkling with a mischievous glint. Raising an eyebrow at him, you crossed your arms, “What?”

“We both have to agree”, he started, “That Mr. Bennet is the best character.”

Winter scurried along the hallways, clutching an envelope, hiding it under her apron lest she ran into you. Her nails dug into the paper, guilt welling up in the pit of her stomach. She stopped outside the door she had been summoned to

Knocking on the throat thrice, she took a step back, waiting for it to be opened.

A man opened it, narrowing his eyes at her, “Yes?”

“A letter for you sir”, Winter squeaked, “Sir Akira. From Mrs Osaki.”

Akira grabbed the envelope from Winter, swatting her away. The girl bowed and scurried off, not wanting to have anything to do with the contents of the letter. She had already been swayed by your mother enough.

Akira shut the door and locked it, tearing open the letter, desperate to get to it. He pulled it out, fumbling with the paper and reading it hastily.

Dear Akira,

I would first like to thank you, this wasn’t easy to do without you. Don’t worry, everything will fall into place, and no one will be the wiser. Y/n, my darling daughter, doesn’t know the whole story, only about the wedding, and we shall keep it that way. When our families unite, it shall all be sweeped under the rug.

I shall forever be grateful to you for helping me get rid of him. My debt is free I suppose now, as you read this letter our plan has been put into effect. In return for helping me you shall have protection and a new reputation.

Thanking you,

Mrs. Osaki

Akira sighed in relief, knowing his fate was sealed. He had been skeptical at first, when he saw how distant you were. You didn’t even give him an inch, and he suspected you knew what he-his family did and had done.

But supposedly you didn’t.

When your mother had asked him for his help, he was surprised. The Osaka family? Not happy? How could it be?

How could a wife have murderous intent as much as your mother did?

Folding the letter, he stuffed it into the pockets of his pants, pulling out his lighter and setting fire to the envelope. He watched the tongues of fire snatch onto the paper, bright yellows and blues emerging from nothing. Throwing it in the bin, he crushed it under his heel and pulled out a cigarette.

Kun walked into the room, rubbing his hair with a towel. His and Chenles rooms were connected to Akira’s on the cruise, so that he could check up on them. A frown appeared on the older man's face as he studied Kun’s bedraggled appearance.

Kun’s parents weren’t like Akira, they were respectable and wealthy nonetheless, but still dabbled in the darker aspect of things from time to time, not that many people knew of it.

“Why do you look like a wet rat?”

Kun scowled at this, “I went for a shower”, he said, “You look like a rat more than I do”

It was no secret that Kun, Chenle and Yuxi despised their uncle for his dealings and amoral nature. But of course, Kun didn’t know the whole story, he didn’t know everything, all the letters, the truth about you and your family.

Even you didn’t know.

The only reason they were there was because if the plan didn’t go through exactly as it had been planned, their family’s reputation would be ruined for possibly forever. It was risky business, one that was going to be fixed, no matter how vile and wrong it was.

“Get ready for dinner, and for goodness sake, clean up”, Akira instructed, ignoring the dig and gesturing towards the door that connected his room to Kun’s, “Be on time.”

His nephew obliged and left, leaving Akira alone. He took a deep breath and walked out into the hallway, travelling along it quietly so as to not attract any attention. He stopped outside a red door, opening it and travelling along the dark little hallway it led into. Opening the final door, he found himself in another room, one that was dark.

There were several boxes there, and a few suitcases. Akira’s, Kun’s, Chenle and Yuxi’s extra luggage. The boxes were not luggage though, they were Akira’s job. The dark side of things. He fished the letter out of his pocket and put it on the top of one of the boxes, next to the rest of the letters.

Leaving the darkness with the dark.

“You’re quite fun actually”, Yuxi said, chattering away to you during dinner. You smiled, returning the compliment.

You were grateful for her talk, which distracted you from the burning stare that Akira held on you, and Kun’s occasional glances. Not that you were against the latter, but it was slightly unnerving. Of course the two of you were much more comfortable with one another, but another feeling had settled in, a prickling on that settled in the bottom of your stomach.

Did you like it? You didn’t know.

Chenle indulged in conversation as well, you learned that he went to the same school your brother went to: Culture Academy. Apparently Kun had graduated from there just before he left for the cruise. Yuxi went to a finishing school, but you expected that, their family seemed the type to send their children to finishing schools.

You had graduated a few months ago as well, but from another high class school, while your brother attended Culture Academy.

“She’s terrible at water balloon fights”, Kun quipped, a smirk on his face as you glared, “Excuse me-”

“You guys had a water balloon fight without us?”, Yuxi asked, in mock offense, “And to think I actually trusted you for a moment”, she said, turning away from you and jutting her bottom lip out. “The betrayal.”

You laughed, “He dragged me, I had no say in it.”

They weren’t as cold as they had been when you had initially met them. It almost felt as if they were your friends. Taking a bite of whatever Winter had gotten you, you met Kun’s eyes, taking in the amused look in them.

Akira cleared his throat, “I assume you’ll be there for the dance next week?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What dance?”

“Instead of a regular dinner there is going to be a sort of dance”, he explained, “I expect to see you there.”

It was a command, not a request.

There was that constricting feeling again, you gave him a tight lipped, curt nod, looking away again. You hated being around Akira, he made you so uncomfortable, and even though you couldn’t avoid him forever, you would try.

He made you sick.

You took a sip of your drink, letting the burning taste trickle down your throat. You were barely past your first glass, not being a heavy drinker. Your mother had told you it was not respectable to drink too much, so you stuck to her rules. You always stuck to her rules, but god, you would’ve loved to drown the entire glass and ask for another at that moment.

Or throw it at Akira. But that probably wouldn’t have been very respectable either.

Winter walked up to you, tapping your shoulder timidly to get your attention, “Miss”, she said, leaning down to your ear to speak in secrecy, “Your mother has called.”

Pressing your lips together to avoid making a displeased face, you excused yourself from the table and followed your helper into the hallway, taking your phone from her. She gave you an encouraging smile as you began speaking.

“Mother?”

Her harsh voice brought you back down, “Y/n”, she said sternly, “Why did you not go to that dinner?”

You fisted your hand, clenching your jaw. Of course she found out, “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“So you tell no one?

“I wasn’t aware of the fact that everyone was supposed to know about my health”, you couldn’t help the bitter undertone in your voice. She didn’t care whether you were sick or not, she cared about why you skipped.

“Not everyone, just the Qian family”, she hissed, “Y/n focus. Duty.”

You knew there was no point in arguing with your mother, she was as stubborn as an ox. You could never be right against her.

“Yes mother, I’m sorry”, you said through gritted teeth. You could hear the smile on her face at your surrender, “Remember darling, you need to impress them”, she reiterated, “It’s for-”

“The good of our family, yes I know”, you sighed, “I’ll follow the rules.”

“Don’t just follow the rules Y/n, behave”, he tone of voice made you feel like a little girl. “You may not know it, but our family name depends on it.”

This took you aback, leaving you mildly confused. What did this stupid vile plan have to do with anything? Sure your family didn’t have the cleanest record (those scandals tainted it a little bit), but otherwise it was extremely respected all through Japan and other parts of the world.

The question sat at the tip of your tongue, but you knew better than to press your mother for answers. If she wanted to be vague, she would. Ending the call politely, you walked back into the dining hall, sitting next to Yuxi. Whatever momentary joy you had gotten from talking with them vanished, instead it was a reminder of your cruel fate, the bitter reality you had to face whether you liked it or not.

Why?

“You’re insufferable”, you declared, leaning against the railing, “Poor girl, you guys really made her jump into a pool?”

He laughed, “Yeah, you should have seen the look of anger on her face. And in full clothing too?”

You frowned, “You monster!”

“Hey, she signed up for it, she wouldn’t have gotten in if she refused”, he reminded you. Kun was currently telling you stories of his schooling at Culture Academy, particularly about a club he was in. You listened intently, enjoying yourself more than you would like to admit. He was definitely entertaining.

Maybe it was because you never experienced half the things he did.

You looked at the ocean, the sun shining down on it and sparkling. “I suppose she did”, you whispered, letting the words float about in the air as a silence settled upon the two of you. It was comfortable, you didn;t feel the need to fill it in. He took out a lighter and a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long slow drag.

“You smoke?”, you asked, unable to keep the surprise from your voice. You had never seen him do it before. The revelation was something you hadn’t expected.

Another thing your mother drilled into you: never smoke. It’s unladylike and very unbecoming of a person, and also because the news would latch onto it and create a scandal that was not needed. In general you had never seen the appeal of smoking.

He raised an eyebrow at you, nodding as if he expected you to know this. Almost as if he was bewildered with your surprised response. And he was, Kun was confused as to why you were so shocked with the fact. It was just a cigarette, nothing that terrible. Didn’t you know what Akira did-

Oh.

Oh no.

“Yeah, occasionally”, he said, brushing it off quickly, dropping the cigarette and crushing it under his heel, “Want to head back in?”

You nodded with a shrug, “Okay.”

He smiled brightly, and a fuzzy feeling made its way into your stomach. You returned the smile, pushing away the feeling away to the back of your mind, far away in a dark corner of your mind, simply because it wouldn’t be right. You couldn’t even afford to think that way.

Not with the arrangement that had been set up, that was for sure.

You followed him inside, another thought blooming in the same dark corner of your mind, no matter how much you tried to push it away.

God it was wrong on so many levels though.

“She got in”, Kun said, continuing his story from before, “It surprised everyone.”

You smiled, “I’m glad, poor girl, I hope she didn’t get hypothermia or something.”

Kun smiled, “She took my place as I left, you know, graduation and all”, he said, reaching his hand out and grabbing your own, leading you down.

“Your friends sound like fun”, you said fondly, even though you didn’t know them, “Especially that Hendery guy. Did he actually do that?”

Kun laughed, nodding, “He’s mad. I miss them”, his voice turned wistful, but only for a moment, before that pretty smile stretched across his face once again, “I have to tell you about the time Dejun…”

As you went back under the deck and the warmth of the hallways hit you, you decided you would deal with the feeling later. You decided to listen to him instead, liking the way his eyes lit up talking about his friends. You were starting to realize that you were now one of them, one of his friends.

That though stayed in the forefront of your mind, refusing to be pushed back.

And somehow, you didn’t mind.

Kun stepped into Akira’s room, eyes narrowed at his uncle. The tension in the air immediately raised tenfold.

“She doesn’t know, does she?”

Akira sent his nephew a questionable look, “What do you mean?”

Kun sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Y/n”, he said, your name rolling off his tongue easily, yet there was a sort of anger that settled into it. Why didn’t you know? You should’ve known.

Why did he care this much?

Akira sighed, “What about her?”

“She doesn’t know who you are, not the entire truth.”

Akira let the statement hang in the air, his silence answering. He leaned back in his chair, humming an idle tune. “You’re right, but what prompted this?”

“She saw me smoking”, Kun said, “And was confused, she definitely didn’t look pleased. Tell me, how would she react when she realizes the man she has to marry is a fucking drug lord?”

His uncle winced at Kun’s words, “I know, but she won’t ever know.”

This was madness.

Kun knew of course, of the plan, but he didn’t know the whole story. He knew you were to be married to Akira, an arranged marriage that had been, well, arranged by your mother. And Yuxi had confirmed you knew of it as well. You had never seemed too keen on it, and this worsened everything.

“Sit”, Akira ordered, “And I’ll tell you.”

Holding back a grimace, he complied, sitting opposite Akira. He waited for the older man to go on, wondering for a moment how it would be like to be in your shoes. You were around his age, and had to marry his uncle? The thought itself was mortifying.

“The Osaki family”, Akira started, “Well known, you’ve heard of them”, he didn’t wait for Kun to respond in any way, “They’re practically perfect, are they not? You’ve seen Y/n, you’re closer to her than I am. With her airs and graces, you’d think she’s perfect too, wouldn’t you?”

Of course Kun though you were perfect, but that's besides the point. He didn;t see how this made any sense.

“It’s all a lie Kun”, Akira said, “They’re unhappy, so unhappy. Her mother was a miserable, poor lady, forced to sit on the sidelines while her bastard of a husband ignored her.”

Wasn’t your father dead?

Akira cleared his throat, “They’re perfect on the outside, a dollhouse, but through the curtains, it's all a mess. She asked me for help.”

Kun frowned, “Y/n-?” “No”, he said with a smile, “Her mother.”

It was slowly coming together, a puzzle so horrifying Kun didn’t want to believe it. His uncle had done many horrible things, many illegal things, but fuck, he prayed this one wasn’t real.

This was murder.

“So I helped”, Akira’s voice went hoarse, “I helped the way I could. I slipped a drug into a package and sent it to her, one so strong that could kill.”

Horror. This was madness.

“The next day, Mr Osaki was found dead”, a slow sadistic smile stretched out on Akira’s lips, “And Mrs Osaka was overjoyed! She thanked me profusely for helping with her plan. She promised to repay me somehow for my kindness.”

Kindness. Crime. When had the line between the two grown so blurry? Kun was frozen in his seat, frozen in fear. In fear for himself and his siblings, in fear for his family for being related to such a monster. He feared for you, the unsuspecting girl who had walked into his life and brought out things from the shadows he wished he left there. The girl, who’s own mother had been the reason behind her fathers death.

Fuck it was so wrong.

He knew the world he lived in, the wealth and the riches always brought trouble, but never in his life had he ever foreseen this much trouble. The clock on the wall of Akira’s room ticked slowly, every second seeming like an hour. Kun wanted to leave, but he was frozen in his seat, glued there.

His curiosity had gotten the better of him. He needed to know more. What was the ending to this tragic tale?

“And this is my repayment”, Akira said, “I marry Y/n, and everything gets sweeped under the rug. I can start a new Kun, I don’t have to be this person. I know you hate me, but listen, this could change everything.”

Kun felt sick.

“No”, he muttered, “This changed nothing you…”, he studied his uncle's tired expression. Akira’s eyes held a triumphant glare, and that made everything worse.

“You sick man”, he whispered, getting up, “She doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve a fresh start Akira, you have blood on your hands.”

Akira groaned, “I don’t expect you to under-”

‘Good”, Kun said, “I’m leaving and I want nothing to do with you for the rest of this trip.”

“Don’t tell your little friend”, Akira sneered, “If you tell her I won;t be the only one affected. Her mother will be brought into the light as well, and you really think no one will suspect Y/n?”

It was a losing situation from all sides.

“She doesn’t know who I am”, Akira said, agreeing with Kun’s earlier statement, “let's keep it that way, shall we?”

Dearest Akira,

Thank you for sending me the drug, I’ve slipped it into his drink. He shall be gone soon, and I shall be free. My son will take his palace when he finishes school and Y/n will be yours. A lovely full circle. I won’t have to deal with a man I hate anymore, a man that pushed me aside for everything.

Once upon a time I truly loved him you know? I trusted him and I gave him my heart. He trampled on it and now all I’m left with is a shell.

He forgot I existed, I am but a placeholder.

Not for long.

Thanking you,

Mrs. Osaki

You sat on your bed, reading yet another chapter of your beloved Pride and Prejudice in silence, as Kun sat on the other side, looking at his phone and occasionally stealing glances at you.

The friendship the two of you shared was….odd to say the least. You didn’t have to talk, even the silence was enough. You enjoyed his company a lot more than you cared to admit. Turning the page, you decided to stop for the day, placing your bookmark in the middle and shutting the book, turning your attention to Kun.

He couldn’t help the guilt that bubbled inside him, even though he had done nothing wrong. It was the heaviness he carried around for possessing the truth, and was hit with the consequences everytime he looked at you.

“Yes?”, you asked.

He blinked, “What?”

“You’ve been staring at me oddly”, you clarified, “I’m wondering if I did anything to offend you.

“No, no!”, he said a little hurriedly, “I apologize, I’m a little out of it today.”

“Do tell”, you said, propping your chin up on your hand, eyes meeting his with an expectant gaze. He gave you his easy smile, “It’s nothing I promise.”

“I don’t believe you for a second, you’re terrible at lying”, you declared, “Oh come on, I thought we trusted each other?” You tried guilt tripping him into telling you, but he was surprisingly stubborn.

“Do we now?”

“You wound me”, you muttered dryly, “Alright I won’t press you for answers.”

“Thank you for this kindness, oh Lady Y/n”, he said, making a show of pretending to curtsy, which was comical since he was sitting. You couldn’t help the amused smile that made its way to your face at that.

You stood up, placing your book on one of the side tables, brushing down your pants, “We need to be at the deck in five minutes, so I suppose we should make a move.”

He followed suit as the two of you made your way up to the deck. The dinner was out there tonight, so it was bound to be a little bit more casual than the usual dinners in the dining room. This also meant that you didn’t need to sit with the Qian family, which was a mix of relief and disappointment. You liked Kun and his siblings, but at the same time…

Yeah.

The night was a little chilly, so you had pulled on a sweater, finding a table and taking a seat, watching as Kun walked over to his own family, looking stiff. You took the menu from Winter, eyes scanning over the food.

“Ahem.”

You looked up from the menu, only to be met with Akira’s disapproving gaze. “Y/n”, he greeted, “How are you feeling today?”

You swallowed your contempt, forcing a tight pained smile, “Very well, thank you Akira.”

“I’m glad, then why don’t you sit with us?”

Your lips twitched as you tried to think of a way to get yourself out of this. “I’m quite fine here, thank you for the offer.”

He smiled widely, leaning down to your eye level, resting his elbow on the table and effectively capturing your attention. “It wasn’t an offer, sweetheart.”

The nickname made your skin crawl, as you reeled back, “Akir-”

“You will sit with us”, he said firmly, “What would your mother say if you refused?”

Your eyes widened as you realized he knew, fingers gripping the menu. He knew how your mother was and fuck, him knowung that scared you even more. Clearing your throat, you pushed all your confidence into your voice, “I’m quite comfortable here Mr. Qian.”

You didn’t use his first name, you used the family name, hoping to settle the argument, to show that you were not moving.

He took the menu from you, “Come along Y/n, its for the be-”

“Let her be.”

Akira turned around, facing his nephew, “Kun”, he said, voice falling into a tone that screamed it was a warning, “I am not talking to you.”

“But I’m talking to you”, Kun narrowed his eyes at Akira, “She wants to sit there, let her sit there. She is not obliged to follow your every instruction.”

Akira sighed, glancing back at you and smiling sickeningly sweet, inclining his head and walking away, going under the deck. You let out a sigh of relief, looking at Kun who looked oddly guilty.

“Thank you”, you said, “I could’ve handled it, though.”

“I know you could’ve”, he acknowledged, “I just felt like stepping in and helping.” His explanation was curt as he pulled out the chair opposite you, “Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all. I suppose you’re wondering why I let you sit and wanted nothing more to do with your uncle?”

“I’m not”, he said, “I know what's happening there. And the position you’re in, better than you do.” A sad smile stretched out on his lips(not that you were observing them or anything), leaving you slightly bewildered. What did he mean by that?

You studied Kun, his attractive features and dark eyes. They looked like they held a secret, one you couldn’t figure out.

“Why did you help me?”, you asked again, meeting his eyes. He held your gaze for a few minutes, before they dropped to your lips for a split second. You held your breath, waiting for his answer, and mildly overwhelmed.

Did he feel the same way you had been feeling lately? Why did the prospect of that make you feel elevated? Fuck, you couldn’t think like that, it would ruin everything-

“I can’t tell”, he muttered, “I just care.”

The truth chases a lie with fervor, no matter how small. Like a lover in the night, chasing its partner with passion even in the darkest times.

You observed yourself in the mirror, studying the black dress you were wearing. It had a gold trim at the edges, and lace at the back, giving it the perfect combination of classy and scandalous.

Winter took a step back, curling iron in hand as she marvelled at her own handiwork, a smile adorning her pretty face, “You look lovely Y/n!”, she praised. You really did look lovely, the picture of what you were always supposed to portray: perfection.

“Thank you Win”, you smiled at her, “why don’t you wear one of my dresses tonight?”

Her eyes lit up in surprise and confusion as she placed the iron down, shaking her head, “Oh I couldn’t Miss, I’m a part of the staff, I will be helping out for the evening.”

“You don’t want to pretend you’re not just for a few minutes? You can change after fifteen minutes and go back to your work”, you enticed her, wanting your friend to have some fun.

She hesitated, “No miss, I could get in trouble.”

“Alright”, you relented, standing up from your seat and turning to the door, “Thank you Winter”

“Your very welcome miss, now go, the Qian family is awaiting you.”

You nodded, walking into the hallways and following the few people who were already going to the dance.People of repute, people who would look at you and incline their heads respectfully, as you did for them. They were from your world, after all, everyone was rich and important.

Standing outside the doors, you took in a deep breath and walked in. The hall had been decorated, changed drastically. The tables had been pushed to the sides, for the seating, and the center was left as the actual dance floor.

You walked over to the tables at the side, greeting a few people you knew. You spotted Winter standing at the sidelines with the staff. On reaching the refreshments table, you took one of the glasses of champagne and brought it to your lips.

Jazz music played as couples took the floor, swaying to it. You watched the Qian family, noting that Akira was looking for someone, probably you. Turning your back towards them, you took another sip of your drink. You looked at the starters that had been placed out for the guests, wondering what your mother would think if you took a plateful and sat alone in a dark corner eating. The picture of her horrified expression was enough to tickle you.

Distracted within your own thoughts, you failed to notice Kun standing next to you, an amused expression on his face as he watched you. To him, you looked absolutely breathtaking in your dress, even more so than usual.

“Y/n”

You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion of your thoughts, facing the man. He was dressed in a suit, hair done slightly messy, but on purpose. His dark eyes met yours, amused as he smirked, “Hey.”

“Hey”, you breathed out, snapping out of checking him out. He looked extremely attractive tonight, a thought you couldn’t shake off. “Kun.”

He nodded, inclining his head towards the table, “I’m sure the refreshments are extremely interesting but”, a slow grin stretched out on his lips, “Would you like to dance?”

You suppressed your own smile, nodding and taking his hand he had offered you. Kun led you to the dance floor, a little off the centre so you wouldn’t be seen easily. Resting one hand on your waist, the other grasped your own, bringing it up mid air. He took the first step behind with you following him as the two of you danced.

“I’m not great at dancing”, he confessed, “So I have to warn you, I’m running off ballroom dancing class from school when we had our Formal Dance.”

You smirked, “Do you want me to lead or something?”

“Only if you twirl me”

You laughed at this, “Alright, brace yourself.”

He gave you a horrified look, “NO, nevermind, I’ll twirl you instead”, he muttered, retrieving his hand from your waist and raising the other so you could turn gracefully. You didn’t make any attempt to bite your giggled away at this, turning and facing him again, back into your former position.

“That was actually quite fun, wanna try?”

He gave you a look that screamed ‘really?’, shaking his head, “I thought we established that I was fine without twirling.”

“But-”

“No”

“Fine”, you made a show of being upset over it, saying something about he was missing out on his youth and that twirling during ballroom dancing was one of the few fineries of life he would never experience if he didn’t do it right now.

That, for some reason, still didn’t entice him.

Oh well, his loss.

You bantered lightly, as you swayed to the music together. You melted together almost, in the midst of your laughter and smiles. You felt so comfortable with him, but every moment you felt like that seemed like a curse, reminding you he wasn’t what you were there for. Whatever you felt towards Qian Kun was wrong, so wrong.

He led the two of you off to the side, away from the dance floor, still in each other's arms for some reason, even though you had finished dancing. He lifted your hand, twirling you once again just for the effect and grinning.

Once you faced him, you realized how close the two of you were. His hands were on your waist anyways, one of your hands was around his neck. Your other hand was intertwined with his, making the contact seem even more intimate.

The smile melted off your face as his eyes flickered to your lips. It was as if he had read your mind, and you wished he'd do it again. You wished he woul-

He leaned forward hesitantly, and in that dark corner of the dining hall, while the others danced around, while Akira looked for you somewhere, behind the tables and everyone, Qian Kun kissed you.

It was a timid kiss, his lips barely brushed against yours, before he pulled away, blinking at you. You stared back at him, equally as surprised, but not in a bad way. He dropped the hold he had on you, but kept holding your hand, as if he was figuring out what to think.

You grew slightly impatient with this, leaving his grip and cupping his face, bringing him back into a kiss. This one was much less innocent, it didn’t feel like he was exploring something for the first time. It felt real, and it felt right.

“Not here”, he muttered softly against your lips, pulling you along with him, out into the hallways. You followed him, giddy from the kiss, giddy from the fact that you had even kissed him. How did that happen? When had that happened? The incident that had taken place mere seconds ago seemed days old, almost as if it had happened several times before.

You wanted to kiss him again.

Resisting the urge to stop him right there and there, you let him lead you to wherever. He stopped outside a red door, almost rust in colour, hesitating for a moment, before he seemingly decided to fuck it all and opened it, pulling you into the little corridor it opened into.

He kissed you again, once, twice, thrice, until you lost count. Pushed up against the wall, your senses seemed to heighten. The low buzz of the cruise ran through you as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. All the banter, the teasing, the way he would trap you with his words had built up to this.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

The only way you could describe the kisses was breathtaking. You felt as if you were struggling for air, yet you didn’t want to pull away. Your lungs screamed for air, but you didn’t want to heed. You didn’t want to break the spell he had put you under. You liked the burning feeling, the way his lips felt against yours, the way his body felt against yours. Drowning, you were drowning but fuck, you wanted no one to save you.

You wanted to drown.

He pulled away finally, letting you suck in a breath.

“This is wrong”, you whispered, and he nodded, agreeing, “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it again.”

He took a step away from you, studying your features. You leaned against the wall, letting the silence overtake the two of you. You breathed heavily, making up for the air you had lost, albeit willingly.

Footsteps.

Soft footsteps made their way down the hallways, you could hear it. Kun looked alarmed, glancing at the door, “Wait here.”

You frowned, but nodded as he left, closing the door after him and supposedly speaking to someone in hushed tones, further muffled by the barrier between the two of you. You sighed, looking along the corridor you were in at the moment, walking to the end and opening the other door, lest the person he was speaking to burst in and found themselves in a very awkward situation.

You found yourself in another room, one that was dark. Using your sense of touch, you managed to navigate around it, noting that there were suitcases and boxes. You stumbled into one, wincing slightly as a sharp pain travelled through your shin. Using the box to steady yourself, your eyes were drawn to the little labels on the sides of them.

Squinting, you brushed over the names, trying to make out what they were.

Qian Akira, cocaine.

Reeling back, you blinked. Were those drugs? Looking at a few other boxes, you had forgotten about the pain in your leg as horror filled your senses, reading the names of drug after drug, all with the Qian’s names on it. The man you were being forced to marry was a criminal.

You had been thrown into a trance of some sort, a trance of absolute dread. For some reason you couldn’t look away as you kept reading, realizing that whatever was happening was much more serious than you had thought.

The next box had a few papers on the top of it, kept haphazardly one on top of the other. Letters of some sort, envelopes and receipts. You picked one up, eyes scanning over its content, or whatever you could make out in the darkness.

Dear Akira

It’s set in stone! He’s gone, thank you so much. I promise you that this time next year you will be with my Y/n and everything will be solved.

Thanking you,

Mrs Osaki

The sight of your mothers handwriting and her name at the end of the letter made you sick. The other letters were much like the first, each one releasing more and more information, letting you piece together its words to form a cohesive thought.

Fuck.

You dropped the letters, breathing going heavy as you heard more footsteps. Someone was entering the room, they were coming inside and they would find you. You weren’t supposed to be here, you could tell by the way you had been written in the letters.

You should have listened to Kun when he told you to stay where you were-

Kun.

Oh god.

The room seemed to close in on itself, the stacks towering above you. You felt trapped, claustrophobic and disgusted. Disgusted by the fact would ever put you in such a repulsive situation. You ran your fingers over the dust covered boxes, reeling back at the names and information that was on them. Bile rose to your throat as you choked back sobs.

He was responsible for it all, all the misery that had been thrown upon you, the odd requests all made sense. This wasn’t an innocent union, it was an elaborate cover up, and you were the leverage.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you staggered back, leaning on the wall behind you for support. Shouts echoed from the other end of the dark room, and your breath hitched in your throat in fear of being caught.

Shutting your eyes and clamping your hand over your mouth, you counted to ten in your mind, praying that whoever it was wouldn;t find you. The voices resided, the footsteps growing farther and farther. You opened your eyes, only for them to widen in a mixture of relief and fear.

“What are you doing here?”

Fuck.

Kun had made a big mistake, he had led you to the worst possible place he could have taken you in his daze. He had gotten distracted by you, and now he had to deal with the consequences.

If he could fucking find you.

After thwarting Akira’s attention by telling him you had gone on the deck for some fresh air, he returned into the corridor, before realizing it was the one place he wasn’t supposed to take you.

And you were nowhere in sight.

He looked around in alarm, before Akira’s voice called out again, “What are you doing Kun?”

He turned around, “Nothing, just checking, I want something from my suitcase,” he said quickly. His uncle narrowed his eyes at him, “And what is that something?”

“I left my book inside the suitcase, and I’m not interested in the dance so I thought I’d go read.”

“Y/n is not on the deck.”

“Am I supposed to keep tabs on her?”, Kun bit back, “She’s probably back at the hall Akira.”

Akira raised an eyebrow at Kun, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, young man, but I don’t like it”, he said, raising his voice. Kun felt like a little kid again, even if his uncle was just ten years older. Clenching his jaw he stood his ground, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Akira left Kun alone, deciding that he wasn’t worth it.

Kun walked into the room, looking around for you, praying you weren't there. He walked to his suitcase, and narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the outlines in the room.

He heard something shift, and turned on his heels, squinting. He could just about make out your figure standing in the corner, hand over your mouth, eyes squeezed shut. You trembled slightly as you stood there.

He walked over just as you opened your eyes, to meet his own in horror. You were definitely shaking, lower lip trembling in what looked like fear as you tried backing away from him, even though you were already against the wall.

“What are you doing here?”

He took a step forward, reaching out to hold your hand, eyes shrouded in concern at your state, but you shrinked away. “Don’t.”

“Y/n-”

“No”, your voice was shaky, “Stay away from me.”

Your mind was a mess, thoughts racing. You felt used and exposed, so vulnerable. Everything you knew had been a lie, you had been betrayed. Just a few moments ago you were happy, now everything you knew had been shattered, including your own heart.

“You knew didn’t you”, your voice broke in the middle, “You knew.”

Kun’s fake smile melted off his face as he realized what had happened, taking a step away from you. The tears in your eyes made their way down your face as you sucked in a breath, crouching down with your hands over your ears.

All you wanted to do was block all of it out, block reality out and not think of it, but that was hard when reality was staring back at you with a guilty expression.

Suddenly everything clicked into place, why he had been so nice, why he kept helping you. I was all out of guilt, everything was a fucking lie. Half truths and twisted words, secrets and scandals.

It was sick and twisted and you had fallen into the trap unwillingly, and didn’t know how to get out.

You rocked yourself slowly, trying to compose yourself amongst the madness. You wanted to scream, to cry and tell Kun that you hated him, that you wanted him to leave and never talk to you again. Maybe that’s what hurt worse, the fact that you were attached.

You had trusted Kun, you had fallen for him like the idiot you were, only for it all to come back for you, slapping you in the face. You felt so stupid for letting yourself believe anything good would come out of this. You should have listened to your conscience when it told you this was wrong.

But this...this was worse than wrong. This was murder. The betrayal of it all hit you hard, and it took all of your willpower not to fall over and give up.

“It was all fake”, you muttered, “all of it”

“Y/n I-”

“You were pitying me”, you spat, “You knew and yet”, sucking in a breath, you swallowed the lump in your throat, ignoring the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach, the hole that seemed to have been ripped out from your chest. “You still played me.”

Kun pressed his lips together in a tight line, regret eating away at him. Of course it wasn’t all for his uncle, but you wouldn’t listen even if he tried. You were much too distraught, too far gone for that. Instead he composed himself, leaning down and resting a hand on your shoulder.

“We need to get out of here.”

The harshness of the statement made it worse. You looked up at his serious face through your hazy eyesight, wanting to push him away, but neither did you want to be alone. He sighed, helping you up to your feet, “We have to go or they’ll find you here and it won’t be pretty.”

Taking your hand in his, Kun pulled out of the room, raising a hand to his lips, silently telling you to keep quiet. “If you don’t want Akira to find you here, go straight to your room, say you were sick.”

He was pity helping you again.

You nodded, sniffling slightly and pulling yourself together again, rubbing your arms. You hated it, fuck, and that moment you hated your own mother. You hated the fact that you had to depend on the boy who betrayed you. The boy who you kissed, and was willing to forget that it was wrong, until the world crashed down upon you.

Walking with you, he decided to part ways where the two hallways met, repeating his instructions from before, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, before walking away in the direction opposite where you were supposed to go.

How had so much gone so wrong so fast?

Locked.

You were locked away in your room, refusing to get out of it. The only person you let in was Winter, who came in with meals and other information. You ignored every one of Akira’s presents, declined your mother’s calls and avoided the rest of the Qian family like the plague.

It was like you had spiralled, down into this hole you couldn’t climb out of. Your father was dead, it wasn’t natural. He had been killed and you were amongst the murderers. Your mother had worked with them.

Your brother was back home, going about his life as usual. The world revolved as it always did, but yours has stopped.The little bubble that you had lived in for most of your sheltered life had finally burst. You had been thrown into real life before you could even say anything about it.

Knock!

“Come in”, you said, watching as Winter entered with a plate and her own phone, “Y/n”, she greeted you, with that same funny formal tone, “It’s your brother”

She handed you her own phone, and you frowned. Why hadn’t Shotaro just called you? Why had he called Winter?

Brushing those thoughts aside, you held the phone to your ears, “Taro?”

“Hey”, he said, “hold for a second, would you?”

You didn’t reply, patiently waiting for him, but instead you were greeted with another voice, a voice you definitely didn;t want to hear.

“Darling.”

Your throat seemed to close up, mouth going dry as you gripped the phone even tighter, looking at Winter in alarm. She looked away, and began setting your things straight on the little table next to your bed.

“Mother.”

“What has happened to you?”, she asked, voice cutting through any thoughts, “I thought you understood the gravity of the situation. I have told you countless times-”

“I understood what you told me before I found out I was a pawn,” your voice was remarkably steady, almost scarily calm as you leaned back, “I don’t care anymore.”

“Y/n”, your mother warned, “I told you, our family name depends of it, even if you don’t how how or why-”

“I do know”, you interrupted her smoothly, “I know that my mother is an amoral bitch and the fact that you killed father, without thinking of the feelings of her children, and went on to throw her daughter into a dangerous position.”

You were met with the static from the other line. Had you finally won? Your mother stayed silent at your sudden outburst.

“How did you find out.” It was a question, but it came out as a statement. That helplessness returned, your level headedness disappearing all of a sudden. How could she be so insensitive? She didn’t care at all.

“Doesn’t matter”, he continued, “Now you know it's imperative you marry Akira, or our secrets will be exposed and the family name will be tainted. This also saves the Qians.”

You fisted your hand, spite coursing through your veins. Fuck, you were so angry, angry at your mother for never doing your job, for expecting you to comply with her twisted plans. You were tired of playing along, you were fed up of being perfect, or at least, fed up of portraying that image.

“I hate Akira”, you said for the first time out loud, making them real. You despised him and everything he was, and the new information you had gathered about him had just made you hate him more. You wished you had never met the Qian family, Akira, or Chenle, or Yuxi, or Kun-

That was a lie. You didn’t regret meeting Kun, you regretted trusting him. You regretted not listening and going into that room. You regretted so much, but you regretted knowing the truth the most.

You wanted to live the lie again.

“And I don’t care if you get in trouble mother, you deserve it.”

“It’s not just me Y/n”, she said, “It’s the Qian family as well, and it’s you and your brother.”

Shotaro.

“He still doesn’t know?”

“We’ll keep it that way. He’s still in school.”

Pursing your lips, you sighed, “I don’t want this”

It was as if she knew she had hit a weak spot, she could feel your resolve wavering. “Do it for Shotaro, if no one else. He hasn’t met life yet.”

You couldn’t understand how she was so cool about it, how she didn’t seem to care that there was blood on her hands, blood of her husband and no less. You supposed crying and screaming wouldn’t accomplish or change anything. This was your reality, and you just had to accept it.

Clicking off the call, you handed Winter’s phone back to her, burying your head in your hands. Decisions, decisions.

Winter stood there with a pensive look, biting her lower lip, before sitting down next to you, “I’m sorry Y/n, but what is troubling you?” Her soft voice mixed with the concerned look on her face was enough to make you break, leaning into her as tears built up in your eyes. She wrapped an arm around you, keeping you steady and holding you up.

She figured she owed you as much.

“Everyone I know has destroyed me”, you whispered hoarsely, choking back a sob, “They’ve either betrayed me or destroyed me and I’m so tired.”

“Who has done so?” She asked, rubbing your back comfortingly, prompting you to go on without actually asking you. You took in a shaky breath, thinking of everyone that was to blame for your misery.

“My mother”, you spat, “Akira, Kun-”

“Kun?”

Sucking in a breath, you nodded, “Kun. He-he knew. He knew and he still led me on, fuck I feel so stupid”, you laughed at the bitter irony, wiping away your tears, “And the thing is, the fact he did it hurts much more than anything else.”

“And why is that?”, Winter whispered.

“I trusted him”, you said, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would help somehow, “I liked him, I gave him my trust, even when it went past my duty.”

Duty, you were starting to realize, was slowly destroying you and everything you held dear.

Yuxi raised her hand so that the light fell on it, the pretty red nail paint glowing as she inspected it. Her right hand was a little messier than her left, she decided she would fix that later. Her hair was perfectly straightened, not a strand out of place, she looked perfect. Her appearance paired with her pretty airs and manners made her slightly intimidating, a little better than the rest.

Finishing school had been fruitful afterall.

Clicking her tongue, she dropped the act, sitting on her bed, hunched over her phone as she scrolled through her messages, catching up on whatever she was missing back home.

Truth was, she didn’t want to get on this cruise, none of the Qian siblings did. Spending time with their uncle? They hated the few dinners they had to tolerate anyways, but a whole three months? That sounded like torture, a torture they were enduring at the moment.

Akira had insisted, saying it would be a good experience for them now that they were adults, well, except Chenle. The boy was still sixteen, but was very much on their level. Their parents had unfortunately agreed, and so they found themselves where they were.

Kun walked through her door and into her room, pacing around, before taking a seat next to Yuxi and looking at her expectantly.

“What?”

“I fucked up”, he confessed. His sister wondered if he was waiting for her to ask the question just to dump that on her.

“Thank you for that eloquent explanation”, she said, “Mind telling me exactly how you did the fucking up?”

He sighed, running a hair through his hair as he leaned against the headrest and told his sister the whole story, from the arranged marriage (though she knew this), Akira’s plan and what he had done, to the kiss and you finding out. Yuxi listened intently, placing her phone aside as he went on.

Once he reached the end of all the events, Yuxi looked pensive, confused almost. “I’m not sure there’s anything you can do to fix this,” she said truthfully, “It’s royally fucked up and I don;t want to have anything to do with our uncle dear ever again.”

“You’re telling me”, Kun groaned, “I feel terrible, and I didn’t even do anything.”

“You did do something”, his sister said, walking to the little table and picking up her little bottle of nail paint, “You stayed silent.”

Winter burst into the kitchen, walking over to the drink area. She inspected them, figuring out which one was yours, and which one was Kun’s. Producing a small vial of some sort of liquid, she took the two drinks and placed them on the counter opposite, opening up the vial.

Guilt had been eating away at her for weeks now, especially when she realized that there might be more to the story than she thought. She had complied with your mothers orders, but now she didn’t care.

Heesung walked into the room, “Idiot, what are you doing?”

Winter ignored him, putting a few drops in each glass and mixing them in. Heesung took the vial from her when she kept it down, inspecting it, “What is this?”

“Took it from the luggages”

“You stole? You could get fired!”

“I know that!” She snapped before sighing, “But I stole it from a criminal, so it’s even.”

Heesung raised an eyebrow, lowering his voice, “The Qians?”

Winter nodded, “A drug.”

The boy wondered if he should ask, if it was worth it to do so. Winter took the glasses and placed them back on the tray, turning back to Heesung, pointing to them. “Kun and Y/n. These two glasses are for them.”

“Right. Why should I listen to you again when you’ve spiked their drinks?”

“Because”, she said, “What you’re holding is an infatuation drug.”

Heesung snorted, “So it’s a love potion? I knew you were a romantic Win, but you do know she’s marrying Mr. Akira right?”

“Not if I can help it”, the girl muttered, “She doesn’t deserve it, and is in love with someone else. And it’s not a love potion, it’s a drug.”

Rolling his eyes, the waiter picked up the tray of drinks, “So it’s a love shot then”, he asked, proud of his pun, “And I suppose you think it’s Mr Akira’s nephew?” Still, he pushed the two glasses a little away from each other so he remembered what he was instructed to do. He still thought it was ridiculous though.

“It is, she told me herself, well not that bluntly, but I know it.”

Heesung pinched the bridge of his nose, “And what if your meddling backfires?”

“Wouldn't change a thing., everything is fucked anyways”, she said, “I just want her to have one thing going right for her.”

Winter took the vial back, stuffing it into the pockets of her uniform and straightening out her apron. The smell of whatever was cooking wafted through the air as she composed herself again, “See you later Heesung, don’t mess up the drinks.”

Winter hoped her meddling would pay off

You walked into the dining hall, head held high as you made eye contact with the Qians. Akira gave you his sickly smile, Yuxi with her worried gaze and Chenle still oblivious. Kun looked confused as he watched you approach the table, taking the seat you usually did, before the entire truth came out.

Sitting down, your eyes flitted to Kun’s before you looked down at your lap, plastering on a fake smile and looking at Akira, greeting him.

“I take it you're better?” He asked this, leaning forward, “You must have been really sick, staying away for so many days. It's been a little over a week?”

You nodded, “Yes, I apologize for my absence.” You realized someone, probably Kun had covered for you. The waiter approached, handing everyone their respective drinks, before bowing and leaving.

You raised the glass to your lips, inspecting the table, eyes meeting Yuxi’s who averted her gaze immediately.

She knew too.

Suppressing a scoff, you decided to address the elephant in the room and announce what decision you had come to. You still weren;t completely happy, but it was better than nothing, and you had stood your ground against your mother, who finally agreed, albeit begrudgingly.

“I revoke our little arrangement Mr. Qian”, you said after clearing your throat. He raised an eyebrow at this, a sliver of panic visible in his eyes, “And why is that?”

“I know”

Those two words had held so much, his eyes widened as he stared at you dumbfounded. That dumbfounded expression morphed into one of misplaced anger. “You are not the one to say that.”

“Yes I am”, you said cooly, “I am the one getting married, well not anymore. My mother has agreed and I want nothing more to do with you.”

He clenched his jaw, visibly trying to control his anger. “A deal is a de-”

“Alright, I’ll tell you why you should agree”, you said with a mocking smile. Somewhere in the back of your mind you began to feel slightly drowsy, but you pushed it away, looking at Kun once more.

You didn’t want to look away.

The two of your eyes locked and it felt like you were falling. You could almost feel his lips on yours, his hands on your wait, the way he kissed you-

You snapped back to reality, looking away.

“I have a message on the top of my fingers ready to be sent right now”, you said, “To the police about your little dealings and the fact that you killed my father”, the words rolled off your tongue easily, almost as if you were talking about something as mundane as the weather, “And then you’ll be ruined.”

Akira paled, and it was clear who held the ropes over the conversation now. You decided to give him proof, raising your hand that held your phone, finger hovering over a number.

“But this can be avoided! You see, just call off the deal”, you took another sip of whatever the waiter had given you, mind going ever so slightly fuzzy once again. “And I’ll keep silent. No one will ever know.”

He clicked his tongue, “You were my repayment.”

“I know, I was a prop hmm?”, you said, “Not anymore, call this off right now Akira.”

He sighed, as if he knew he had lost. There was no point in fighting anymore. “We’re done”, he said finally, and you smirked in triumph, taking another sip of your drink, “Thank you.”

Winter came around with the food, looking suspiciously at you and Kun, before walking away. You sighed, that feeling of blankness returning. You still had to deal with Kun, of course you did, but you didn’t want to do so now. That would make everything messy, but fuck, for some reason all you could think about was the way he kissed you.

This was bad. You had to stop.

You looked at your food, pushing it away and getting up, sighing, the adrenaline from confronting Akira. Did you expect to win? No, but now that you had, your head swam as you got to your feet, glancing at Winter, nodding your head slightly.

“Goodbye”, you said, “I have no business with you anymore.”

Leaving your dinner and the table, you walked into the hallways and sighed in relief. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and you could finally breathe again. You made your way to your room, before stopping outside a door, freezing in your place.

That door led to the hall where you and Kun had that water balloon fight. You took a step towards it, placing your hand on the knob, but not opening it. You didn’t want to open it, just wanted to reminisce.

“Trying to run away from us? Or me? Because you’re still slow.”

You whipped your head around, meeting Kun’s gaze, “something like that.” Your voice was cautious as if you were walking on nails. As if you weren’t trying to not stare at his lips.

He leaned against the wall, staring at you as if he was trying to crack a code. His mind went fuzzy as well, the drug taking effect as it had for you. But both of you were fighting against it, desperate to win.

When did winning come at the cost of losing everything you loved?

Loved?

You bit your lower lip, averting your gaze. The tension in the room had risen tenfold, the way the two of you tried to navigate the gray area you had fallen into.You wondered why the world couldn’t be simple, black and white. Why couldn’t it be bad and good? Why did it have to be so complicated?

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. You snapped back to attention, forcing yourself to get out of your little headspace. Looking up, you met his eyes, and by god, you had never regretted doing anything more than that.

His eyes, they were dark, voids of nothingness. They didn’t sparkle like they usually did, shining in the light. Instead they were like pools of ink, no light let in. Gone was the smirk you were so used to.

“I know”, you said simply, realizing it was true. You acknowledged the fact that he was sorry.

A bitter chuckle fell from his lips, “I hate myself for not telling you the moment I found out, but everything was so-”

“Messed up?” You finished his sentence, giving him a crooked smile, “Yeah, I get it. It’s all over now though”

“Over”, he repeated, “Right.”

Silence.

“I don’t want it to be over”

You looked at him, a sigh escaping you, “Kun-”

“You’re you, and I don’t want to lose you”, he said bluntly, “You can hate me-I hate myself, but I don't want it to be over.” You began to feel drowsy again, all you wanted to do was walk away and forget the past two months, because now you were attached. Emotionally.

“But I understand if you want nothing to do with us, with me-”

You took a step forward, leaning towards him and pressed your lips to his, mind going completely blank now. You wanted to melt into him, as he kissed you back in surprise, to forget.

You couldn’t do that.

He cupped your face, kissing you again. There it was that feeling, that feeling of drowning. Make it stop, stop, I want to breathe, you thought, before giving up. You liked the breathlessness, even if you tried not to.

Pulling away, you looked at him one last time, before pushing yourself off of him, away from the door that led into the hall, away from him. Kun watched you walk away, down the hallway, before you turned the corner.

And then you were gone.

You leaned against the railing of the deck, watching the water below you. The ripples were somewhat soothing, as you hummed an idle tune.

“Y/n Osaki”, you turned around to face the owner of the voice, Kun himself. He smiled taking position next to you, “Remember when I said I didn’t know who you were?”

You chuckled nodding, “Yeah.”

It had bewildered you at the time, the way he pretended he didn’t know who you were. Now you wished he really didn’t. That seemed so long ago.

It had been a week since the confrontation, a week since the last kiss. The effects of the infatuation drug had long worn off, but what was real was left behind. All the drug had done was amplify it. You didn’t see the Qian family much after it, making a point to avoid them. You didn’t have a reason to see them anyways, you were done.

Yet you still had unfinished business.

The cruise was coming to an end anyways, so what was even the point? Your life would go back to normal like nothing had happened, even though your world had been ripped apart and was holding itself together by threads.

Kun cleared his throat, “We need to talk.”

“We’re talking right now”, you said, avoiding the heavy meaning in his words.

He sighed, letting it drop for a second before speaking up again, “I didn’t know myself until I asked Akira”, he said, not specifying what exactly he was talking about, but you already knew. “I asked him if you knew who he was and he told me the whole story, and I was….”, he trailed off, searching for the correct word, “horrified.”

“I believe you”, you said softly, “I’ve forgiven you.”

You haven’t forgotten though, you doubt you could ever forget something like this.

Kun didn’t know if that made him feel any better, but he knew he had to get it off his chest. He wondered how he could get you back. You seemed cold again, like the day he met you, closed off and wary of everything. You had a right to be, but he wanted the Y/n he had grown accustomed to, back.

“So”, he said, “Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth Bennet?”

“I thought we agreed on a truce?” You let a smile slip, amused. He grinned, “We did, but I have to know.”

You thought for a second, before inclining your head with a sheepish smile, “I’ll eat my words Qian Kun, Mr. Darcy has grown on me.”

“I’m glad. I won after all”, he said childishly, and you couldn’t help but scoff. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Why don’t I tell you something? Infact, I’ll say it in the words of Mr. Darcy himself”, he declared, “I found myself in this mess before I could do anything about it Y/n, and I can’t take what has happened. I cannot fix on the hour or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It was too long ago, I was in the middle before I knew it had begun.”

Your eyes softened as you shifted closer to him, meeting his own. Yours sparkled with mild amusement as you slipped your hand through his, “You do know that’s how Mr. Darcy tells Lizzy he loves her, right?”

“Is it?”, his eyes held the same mischievous glint yours did as he raised your held hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “I suppose it’s fitting then.”

And then he kissed you properly, fingers intertwined, wind in your hair.

Were you happy? Not entirely, not yet. You still had duty, you still had to bear the weight of your family name. You had to live with knowing your mother was responsible for your fathers demise, you had to keep it a secret for Shotaro. You had to be perfect.

No, you weren’t happy, but you were getting there.

fin.

#neoculturecafe #kpopscape #nctcreations #nct-writers #czennet #kun x you #qian kun x reader #nct kun x reader #wayv kun x reader #kun #qian kun #nct kun #wayv kun #wayv fanfiction #nct fanfiction #wayv #nct #qian kun fanfiction #love shot

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lovelucybradford · 3 years

Text

I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time). One

Tumblr’s hottest new Derek HalexOC fic is “I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time)”. Fueled by one too many rom-coms and the author’s thirst for Tyler Hoechlin, this fic has EVERYTHING: childhood friends to lovers, fake engagement, mutual pining, Derek Hale’s family alive and well, and SLOW BURN (oh so slow).

One: get me with those green eyes, baby.

“Yo Rosie, you better go over there. Cinderella’s about to steal your man,” Stiles commented nonchalantly, sipping on a Coke from a paper cup. He was trying to hide his smile, but Rosalie could see right through him.

“Shut up, Stiles. He’s not my man.” Rosalie rolled her eyes, but didn’t stray her focus from Derek, Cinderella, and her niece, Charlotte. The young girl who was playing Cinderella couldn’t be older than twenty-one. (Way too young for the man.) Sure enough, she had her dainty hand on Derek’s bicep, likely commenting on his muscles. (That had happened with Ariel, an hour before. To which Rosalie thought that she’d be able to fill out those seashells much better.)

Derek laughed, scratching the back of his neck—a sure sign that he was uncomfortable with all of the attention. It had been his tell for as long as Rosalie had known him—verging on twenty-five years, give or take the time that they’d spent apart in college and Rosalie’s four-year stint living with her father’s family in New York City (a mistake, big mistake).

That had been a change; Derek used to eat up all of the attention from women when they were younger. A lot had changed with the two friends through the years; lovers had come and go, lessons learnt the hard way—but the one thing that hadn’t changed was their connection to each other. No one quite understood Rose the way that Derek did, and she’d like to think that nobody understood Derek like she did.

Charlotte pointed one blue-painted nail towards her aunt, and suddenly all eyes were on her. “Auntie Rosie! Come here!” she called loudly.

Rosalie obliged, excusing herself from Lydia and Stiles to join Charlotte, Derek, and the princess. Cinderella smiled kindly at Rosalie, eyes briefly flicking up to her hair. She turned to Derek and asked, “Is this your princess?”

To which Rosalie flushed a bright shade of red. Cinderella was likely referring to Rosalie’s elaborate updo. Her red hair was covered in green glitter, complete with a sparkling, emerald-encrusted tiara. Charlotte, ever the shy child, had been nervous to go to the Bippity Boppity Boutique by herself, and convinced her aunt to play along. So, Rosalie had gotten the works, and Derek and Stiles teased her incessantly all day. She didn’t mind, really. She’d do anything for the kid, whether that be to sell her soul or literally become her childhood moniker.

Derek chuckled apprehensively and ducked his head. Charlotte answered for them both, giving Stiles Stilinski more fodder for his jokes.

“Yeah! This is my Auntie Rose. Uncle Derek calls her princess,” Charlotte smiled proudly. In the distance, Stiles guffawed, and Lydia leaned her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Likely hiding her own laugh, for Rosalie’s benefit.

Rosalie stumbled over her own words. “I…um…childhood nickname. Anyways, Char, do you want a photo so the nice people behind us get a chance to meet Cinderella, too?”

The four posed for the photo, Derek and Rosalie on either side of the princess and Charlotte, curtseying, in front. Lydia snapped a quick photo on her own phone and on Rosalie’s. Then, Rosalie graciously thanked Cinderella and the photographer, eager to get the hell out of the awkward situation.

Derek swept Charlotte up on to his shoulders, giving a polite nod before he turned to leave as well. Cinderella tapped him on the arm, and added, “Have a magical day! Your girlfriend is beautiful.”

Rosalie lost her footing at Cinderella’s words, almost crashing embarrassingly to the floor if it weren’t for Lydia’s supportive hand on her wrist. She let Lydia lead her out of the building, feeling quite lightheaded all of a sudden.

The sun had set in the near hour that they had waited to meet the princesses. The stars in the sky sparkled above, bringing a whole new sense of magic to ‘The Most Magical Place on Earth’.

“Oh my God, this picture is so cute. I’m def posting it on Instagram,” Lydia said, smiling down at her phone. She moved closer to her cousin so Rosalie could see the photo as well.

Rosalie cringed. “Um, no you’re not.” Charlotte looked adorable, as she always did. Rosalie, well—Rosalie looked exactly as she felt in that very moment. The pink in her cheeks perfectly matched the tapestry behind them, and she couldn’t blame that shade of red on a blossoming sunburn. And Derek—he looked like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed with a tight-lipped smile. Even when mortified he still managed to look gorgeous.

It hurt Rosalie’s heart just a little bit to think that Derek was mortified because someone thought they were together. But she buried that feeling once she saw Stiles saunter towards them, Derek and a chattering Charlotte in tow.

“Too late. I already did,” Lydia announced, lips tilting into a playful smile.

“Already did what?” Derek peeked over the women’s heads.

He groaned loudly, making Charlotte laugh. “Please tell me you didn’t just post that on Instagram. God, Laura’s never going to let me live this down.”

Rosalie tilted her head upward and smirked at her best friend. “Just wait until I tell her that you got hit on by Cinderella.” She laughed at Derek’s flared nostrils and pursed lips. He smacked her on the shoulder blade with the hand that wasn’t supporting Charlotte, who was clutching Derek’s black baseball-cap covered head with both little hands.

Charlotte tilted her head, befuddled. “What does ‘hit on’ mean?”

Rosalie and Derek stayed silent, neither one wanting to answer. Stiles replied for them, winking up at the little girl. “It means that Cinderella liked your Uncle Derek. Anywho, I’m thinking that we hit that Millennium Falcon ride.”

Rosalie checked her phone. “Can’t, Stiles. We have to head to dinner.”

Stiles sighed. “Please God, tell me your father won’t be joining us, Rosalie. I already have to deal with him for a whole week. If I have to spend more time with him than that, I might chop off my arm with a lightsaber.”

Lydia checked the map, and the group began their trek towards the restaurant.

“What’s Stiles talking about?” Derek asked as he hiked Charlotte further up his shoulders.

“The Martin Family Reunion,” Lydia commented, looking pointedly at Rosalie. Rosalie, who had forgotten all about it. And furthermore, forgotten about the little white lie she’d made when she RSVP’d. “A weeklong cruise hosted by Rosalie’s father.”

Lydia pursed her lips, green eyes flitting back and forth between her cousin and the path in front of her. “The one that Drew will be at… with his new fiancée, Ashleigh.”

The mention of the two made Rosalie sick. It had been a blow to Rosalie, when she’d seen that Instagram post on her sister’s profile. She was stupid to think that it couldn’t get worse than her ex and her sister sleeping together behind her back. Then they had to go and get engaged, a sure reminder to Rosalie that Drew, the one love of her life, would never really be gone from it.

“Gross,” Charlotte said. “Drew the Douchebag.”

Rosalie’s mouth gaped in repulsion. She glared scoldingly up at her niece. “Charlotte Marie Martin, who told you that?”

Charlotte had the nerve to not look guilty at all. She innocently smiled back at her aunt. “Daddy… and Uncle Derek.”

Rosalie turned her glare to Derek, whose shoulders were shaking, and not because of the weight of the five-year-old perched on them. “You’ve never even met Drew,” she hissed.

Derek kept his gaze straight forward. “I didn’t have to, not with what he did.”

“Can’t argue there,” Stiles chimed in, and Rosalie smacked him on the back of the head.

Derek stopped, and Rosalie thought he was going to apologize. Instead, he crouched down. “Ok, Charlie. Why don’t you walk with Auntie Rose for a while? Uncle Derek’s shoulders hurt.”

Charlotte clambered off of Derek and into the welcoming hand of her aunt. Rosalie couldn’t stay mad at Charlotte. It wasn’t her fault that Rosalie’s brother let things slip. Charlie just mimicked what her father said.

Rosalie didn’t speak the rest of the way. She was too angry with what Derek and her brother had been saying behind her back. (Even though she knew they spoke the truth.)

“Rosalie? Lydia?” came a call from behind the group. Rosalie didn’t have to turn around in her beach chair to know who it was. She shifted the sleeping little girl in her lap slightly so she could sink down in it, ducking her head.

Derek snorted a laugh. “What are you doing?” His stare flickered between Rosalie and Lydia (who was in a similar position in her own chair), green eyes full of amusement.

“I’m invisible. I’m not here. I don’t exist,” Rosalie whispered, eyes scrunched shut and wishing it into reality.

Derek crouched, meeting Rosalie’s line of sight. “Why are we hiding?”

“Shh!” she shushed him with a finger to her lips. “You remember my crazy Aunt Susie?”

“Your dad’s sister? The one who looks like the female version of Donald Trump?”

“Yes. Also known as the family gossip. She will undoubtedly say something shitty about Drew and Ashleigh’s engagement.”

Derek scoffed. “Fuck them.” As an afterthought, he added, “You know what, fuck her too.”

Rosalie swatted him on the forearm. “Children, Derek. There are children present.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say it that loud… and the kid is asleep.”

“Yo Lydia, Rosalie, Derek. I’m back with the contraband.” Stiles weaved between chairs and the standing crowd, arms full of paper drink cups and soft pretzels.

Lydia kicked him in the shin. “Shut up, Stiles.”

Stiles looked amused. “Why are you whispering?”

“Yoo Hoo! Rosalie Anne! Lydia Isabella! You can’t hide from your Aunt Susie!” Rosalie’s aunt yelled, words slurred with her southern drawl, and likely a bit of alcohol.

Stiles’ eyes widened, and he too ducked down. “Forget I asked.”

A slim, bony finger poked Rosalie on her bun-topped head. Aunt Susie shuffled around the chairs to stand in front of the group. With no escape in sight, Rosalie and her friends sighed and straightened themselves up.

“Oh, my,” Aunt Susie chirped, grabbing hold of both Rosalie’s and Lydia’s cheeks. “Look at how much you two have grown!”

Rosalie smiled kindly, as she was taught to do from a young age. She hoped if she obliged in conversation, then Aunt Susie would leave quicker and they could enjoy their night in peace.

Aunt Susie’s smile fell when her eyes swept over Lydia’s boyfriend. “And Steve…nice to see you again.”

Stiles scratched his chin, mumbling, “It’s um…Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

But Aunt Susie paid no mind. Her attention was completely on the man that sat to Rosalie’s left. Her eyes scanned him, seemingly sizing him up. Or checking him out. Likely the latter, Rosalie thought, knowing her aunt.

“Well, Rosalie. Who’s this?” she drawled, looking quite like a cat watching its prey.

Derek straightened out and forced a smile. He held out a hand for her to shake. “Derek Hale, ma’am.” Derek’s mother had instilled politeness in her son, even if he didn’t like the person. And Rosalie knew that Derek wasn’t fond of Rosalie’s father’s side of the family.

She took it, shaking too enthusiastically. A sense of recognition washed over her plump face, and her hand stilled. “Derek Hale… little Derek Hale? Why, you’ve grown, too. When was the last time I saw you? Ten years ago?”

Derek smirked, fire in his eyes. Rosalie prepared herself for the inevitable shit talking, already planning damage control. “Actually, it was fourteen years ago. At the second wedding of Jason Martin. When your brother married his mistress and left Rosalie, Levi, and Ms. Hart.”

Stiles snorted noisily, placing a hand over his mouth to cover up his laughter. Lydia cracked a smile, too. Rosalie kicked Derek, hard. Well, as hard as she could with a child still sleeping soundly on her lap.

Aunt Susie’s mouth opened and closed in shock, for once at a loss for words.

Charlotte woke at just the right time, deterring the awkward silence. She stretched and yawned loudly, then sat up in Rosalie’s lap. Her tiara was crooked, and her eye makeup was smudged, but she still looked cute. Rosalie wished she looked that nice after sleeping in her makeup.

“Aunt Susie!” she cried at the sight of her great-aunt, wrapping the woman in a hug. Ah, childhood innocence. Charlie didn’t know what the real world was like, what her extended family was really like, and Rosalie preferred to keep her naivety.

Charlotte easily engaged Aunt Susie in an excitable conversation. Rosalie, eerily conscious of eyes on her, shifted her ring between the fingers of both hands. It was an impulse buy, the vintage sapphire with the white gold band. She’d seen it on display in one of the shop windows and absolutely had to have it, even if it was way more than she’d ever spend on herself.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you on the cruise in a few weeks.” Aunt Susie turned to leave. Her eyes caught something, and she halted, wide-eyed.

“Oh, my stars,” she commented, hands on her heart. “I… I thought after Drew you were a hopeless case, but…”

Rosalie couldn’t comprehend why her aunt was getting choked up. And the ‘hopeless case’ comment stung more than she would have liked.

Sweet, sweet Charlie reached up to dry her great-aunt’s tears. The damage was already done—white tear tracks contrasted starkly with the tangerine of the older woman’s self-tanner. “What’s wrong, Aunt Susie?”

Aunt Susie, so overwhelmed with emotion, didn’t register the little girl’s words. Instead, she grabbed Derek’s hand. It hung limply in hers. Derek looked alarmed. “Oh, Rosalie’s father will be absolutely thrilled to see you… both of his baby girls… first Drew and Ashleigh…”

Aunt Susie shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with the bottom of her red Mickey Mouse t-shirt.

With her resolve back, she straightened. “Well now, please tell me you’re coming on the cruise?”

“I, um…” Derek stuttered, looking to his best friend for help. Rosalie had no idea what was going on either, and just shrugged in response.

“Well, you absolutely must go now! Of course, Lydia and her wild boyfriend are coming--”

Stiles quietly muttered something along the lines of “I may be wild, but at least I’m not one step away from the loony bin, lady.” Rosalie leaned her elbow on the armrest and laughed into her palm.

“--and Rosie, you absolutely have to bring your fiancé,” Aunt Susie pleaded, looking straight at Derek.

Rosalie couldn’t look at him. She froze, stock still, staring in horror at the sapphire ring that had migrated from her right ring finger onto her left. Where an engagement ring would go. And her new piece of jewelry sure as hell looked like an engagement ring.

“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED?!” Charlotte squealed loudly, clasping her hands in glee.

Rosalie was about to deny it, let the little girl down easy, when Charlotte began to cry.

“Char, why are you crying?” Rosalie asked, voice shaking. She couldn’t look anywhere else but at her niece, heart beating heavily in her chest.

“I’m just… I’m so, so, happy,” Charlotte sniffled. “I love you so much, Uncle Derek.” The little girl climbed over Rosalie and hopped into Derek’s lap, engulfing him in a huge hug. Derek didn’t hug her back, but only for a miniscule moment. He shook his head, coming to his senses, and then wrapped his arms around the girl, patting her back stiffly.

“You didn’t tell her?” Aunt Susie asked Rosalie, accusingly. Rosalie looked to her right for help. Stiles and Lydia were silently sharing a soft pretzel, looking just as stunned as Rosalie.

“No… um, we were going to tell Charlotte during the fireworks. Right, Rosie?” Derek mumbled, saving face. Rosalie thanked him silently for his quick wit.

Rosalie’s head whipped in the opposite direction. She met Derek’s apprehensive eyes. It was almost as if he was asking permission, like he actually agreed to go along with this whole charade.

It was the perfect ruse if Rosalie could ever think of one. A month ago, she’d drunkenly RSVP’d with a plus one to the family reunion cruise, as a way to save her pride and spite her family, who likely thought that she’d come alone and pine for her ex.

No way in hell, she’d thought. Even though there was no one in her life that she could even remotely think of to bring as a date. Derek was out of the question, before…

But now…

She subtly raised a brow, wordlessly asking, are you sure?

Derek subtly nodded back, lip quirking in a reassuring half smile.

Rosalie cleared her throat and straightened herself to her tallest seated height. She wasn’t confident at all, so she was going to fake it till she made it. “That’s right. We were going to wait until the fireworks, make it more magical for Charlotte.”

The speakers on the green lamppost next to them announced that the show was starting. Aunt Susie left them all with a wave and a ‘see you soon’.

No one spoke during the show, except for Charlotte, who was oblivious to the mess that she’d inadvertently got them into.

“So, I guess you’re my fiancée now,” Derek joked, lightly shoving Rosalie in the side. She smiled shyly up at her best friend. Amusement shined in his eyes. He wasn’t mad or appalled like Rosalie suspected him to be. Thank God.

“I, um, I guess I am,” Rosalie replied, swinging her now free arms beside her. Stiles had taken over the task of carrying a sleepy Charlotte to the car. He and Lydia trailed behind them, whispering. Likely about Derek and Rosalie’s… predicament.

“Dude, you two are fucked,” Stiles said, appearing suddenly on Rosalie’s left.

“So fucked,” Lydia affirmed after checking to see if Charlotte was still sleeping.

Rosalie couldn’t help but agree.

#derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x oc #teen wolf #tyler hoechlin

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illyrian-lover-flower · 3 years

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The chosen forest keeper 9

You are no fawn, you are a caged beast

Word count ~5.9k

Mellow hues of light caressed her face as the soft melody of buzzing life lured her in, in the land of the waking. A dreamless sleep laying forgotten and abandoned, like a hurt dog, behind her as she left the realms of darkness and death long ago this night. The lazy caress of warmth stroking her face ever the softest as she slowly stirred awake, opening her eyes ever the littlest of bits, like all those vibrant blooms in summer and spring did, when the sunshine invited all these shining colours to a dance of the rainbow. But she was not able to thrive in those warm rays of life, like those graceful petals, as she herself was slowly squished to death. An Illyrian- heavy as the Cauldrons black void, that once settled around her being and sucked away her mortal life, like the air was now pressed from her lungs- pressed down on her.

Panick slowly rose in Elain's waking body, as she tried –and failed- to wake up the still snoring Illyrian, that lay sprawled, like a carefree little baby, atop of her. Fersia might have been unbothered, but Elain was far from calm, as all those old pictures, ancient words and awful smells from last night rose once again in her, by the pure feeling of her heaviness. Letting the seer lose the grasp to reality once more as her tender fingers scraped at the skin of the female frantically, in a desperate attempt to wake her, but Fersia did not move. The fearsome female was not the one that shook as the world was torn from her again and the soft light of dawn moved to a suffocating darkness.

A gaze of blazing caramel, that watched over every being, gleamed in the eyes of the jaybird as it flew across the golden field.

Blood rained down its brown wings, on each vibrant yellow petal and luscious green did it land like

A never stopping rain of red tears, as those delicate wings of the graceful bird

Boomed through the air like a mighty flap of Illyrian wings.

Screams and fire sizzled where the blood was to meet the living and slowly, like the void of the cauldron, did it suck each remaining drop of life away.

“Fersia! Please wake up! "pleaded Elain’s strangled voice through the air, once the world around her –gleaming from morning light and quiet from the night's darkness – slipped back into her wavering gaze. Heavy tears, as grave as each ruby droplet of blood that ran down from the birds' feathers, slowly crawled down her cold cheeks –leaving a searing trail of desperate cries of help in their wake- as her friend did not notice the fading colour from her face. Only when the heavy Illyrian had heard the plea of her friends' voice, did she slowly sit up –lifting her heavy head, in a lazy peek, as if she were a newly made butterfly, that now saw the world in a different perspective as she crawled out of her cosy cocoon of sleep, away from Elain’s now heaving chest. Relieve flooded the seers entire being, like a sudden burst of sunlight after a heavy rain storm, as she was to have her space again “Thank the mother.”

“What was that?” echoed the tired voice of Fersia through the silent little hut, still oblivious to the knowledge that she had nearly guided the seer into another part of this new world – one where ghosts sung and air was a none existent asset. “Oh, it was nothing.” crocked Elain out, as her delicate chest heaved for air.

Calm. Peace.

She thought as those drowsy eyelids sunk down again, luring the soft colours of dawn into an eternal grave of blackness. A blackness she felt all too familiar with, a blackness that had already tugged at her very being ever so gently, that she could not help it but to adore this wonderful feeling of calmness and peace that settled inside her like a sleepy cat, that slowly crawled into her lap and decided to take its rest there.

A smile tugged at the seers' lips, as this calming feeling, changed the place with the void of dread.

She knew it was a feeling of momentarily easiness, but she would savour the sensation of it as long as she could and no prying pair of eyes that rested on her form could make her lose this steadiness.

“What is it?” mumbled Elain still, as those heavy forest eyes did not want to leave her.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” echoed Fersia her words from before, sleep still dripping from her voice as she plopped down once again on the seer. This sharp chin of hers resting on the delicate chest of the fawn, as the Illyrian wanted to settle for sleep once again “You make me lazy...” droned her voice through the heavy bones of her friend, who could not help but to giggle at her. “Oh, really – I had thought you were always lazy.”

Fersia merely harrumphed at her sweet mockery and rolled on her left side, her heavy arms slung around the delicate curve of Elain's hips, as she was to rest in the strong one's arms. And again, could Elain not help the giggle, which's sound came close to the sweet smell of honeysuckle, as the Illyrian insisted on sleep – seemingly oblivious to the rosy colours of dawn that slowly melted through the sky like honey into milk.

But yet Elain could not be bothered to press her to join her in the dance of the waking, as she knew that she had very urgent matters to attend, but the seer did not want to face them yet.

Did not want to face a river of blazing red blood, that slowly crawled down the black walls like pitch, while she could have golden calming peace that made her feel save in this world. A feeling she rarely had, as she knew that all of her family had a target, as large as the sun, on their backs and even though hers might have not been as big and blazing, it was rather dark and the size of a large plate – she still knew it was there. Resting on her back and mocking her with the knowledge that she would always be the damsel in distress, someone who she hoped she could get rid of, but apparently, she did not want to lose the picture-perfect frame of innocence in which she had locked herself for her family.

The urge to prove her family with all her grace, that she would not be in the need of training, slowly drifted her apart. Fragments of her soul slowly crawling far from each other –just like the continent and Prythian once had.

Elain knew that the target would never be gone, would never vanish and would never stop mocking her, but still she could not help as to think that this plate on her back – had lost its voice once Fersia had brought her here. Gifting the seer, the greatest of things she could have ever asked for – a new life.

A life in which she would not have to pretend, a life in which she could act and do however she felt, a life in which she had a choice – a life that she chose.

And Fersia, the one who was so much like both of her sisters, was the one to bring her here, as she freed a little budgie from its golden cage and Elain was sure to show the female, that the bird she set free would not stay a helpless little budgie, but that she would spread her wings and turn into a mighty eagle, proving all of those who live here just how much she had wanted this, how much she wanted to improve. And now was the right time to spread those still delicate wings, as she shook the silently snoring female awake.

“Fersia, come on – we have to go to your Mother. I think it are urgent matters we have to attend.” “Ugh … fine.” complained Fersia, but she still crawled her way out of bed. Striding to the dark bath chamber like a lazy cat, as each of her steps had a soft sway to it. Those naked feet of hers touching the membrane of her wings ever the briefest as those mighty fins were pulled to the floor by gravity.

The seer gently shook her head at her, like the heads of her flowers would do whenever wind was to dance through them. But she was no flower, she would become a steady and mighty tree, a powerful eagle and a female who deserved the love of the Cauldron – as much as she despised that thing, as much did she want to prove that she was suited for the gift that was given to her.

Her times of disappointment lay long forgotten behind her, even if the one she would disappoint would be the thing that crafted every vein, through which hate cruised for it, in her being.

It was time for Elain to rise.

And only for Elain, not the Archerons – she knew she had given that name away the moment she stepped over the cliff and was caught by Fersia again. The only things that fell this day were her ring of iron, through which the connection to the mortal lands meandered, like the Sidra through Velaris, and her name. Archeron, she would no longer carry this name. Would no longer shoulder the burdens this name had brought – false expectations, false smiles, a mate –as sweet and charming as he was- she had never asked for and a life full of lies. She would no longer carry these lies, as she knew that here, they were no burden anymore. Here no one, besides Fersia, knew her name, though not even the though Illyrian, who changed in the bath chamber, knew of her existence as the middle Archeron – sister of the High Lady, Cauldron blessed and loved, and sister of the fierce female that caused havoc in Windhaven.

Not even Fersia knew of that. She only saw Elain as the sweet healer who had fiercely insisted on taking care of the wounds of a half-dead Illyrian, who hissed at her to take her filthy hands away. And Elain did not feel like as if she had to change that, after all, Elain Archeron was dead. The only one who remained was Elain.

Elain the fawn, healer and flower grower.

No sister anymore and only the slightest bit of Cauldron loved. She was her own now, and was everything she ever wanted to be – an easy female, without the eyes of Prythian on her back, as she was expected to act like the helpless, sweet older sister of the High Lady of night, she was expected to be the gentlest of them all, the one with the fairest of beauty that even the Cauldron had bend before her and had gifted her its love.

Now, no pair of eyes would trace her, only the lost Archeron, but never her –Elain, the real her.

And here, where she could crawl out of bed and dress herself in the plain dress of ivy green, she could be the person she always wanted to be. Layers of cotton meeting her slender legs, as they were to dance around them as she slipped the skirts over her naked legs, like she once had slipped her masks layer for layer over her true self. Elain smiled at the feeling of the plain fabric, of the inconspicuous design of the whole dress, so light against her skin, compared to the burdens she had placed each morning upon her shoulders as she slipped under these masks.

It was so different to what she wore in the river estate, that her sisters might as well had mistaken her for another person, if they were to ever meet again.

But something had wondered the seer, once she pulled the long, green shirt from Fersia, over her head. It was not the cold, that slowly waved against her naked chest, that had wondered her, but the small crown, that glowered dark and threatening on top of her left breast. Elain slowly pulled the green fabric of the shirt in front of her chest, as to cover up most of herself, while she slowly traced the crown of thorns with her free hand. Her fingers were a caress, that moved over the peeks of thorns, like the sun over her once so beloved rose bushes. Though it did not seem like sunlight would ever want to caress this crown of black ink, as a small mist of shadows chased away the light and befogged her delicate fingertips in a mellow mist of black.

This marking threw Elain a bit off, but the amazement for the dark circle of thorns, that wrapped around her thundering heart, still overweight it. But this sudden trance snapped like a breaking rubber, once she heard Fersia curse aloud in the bath chamber.

Looking up from the trace of thorns, like a caught fawn, did she slowly put on the rest of her clothing with hazy fingers and rushed to the origin of Fersias cursing, only to find her sitting on the remaining's of the small stool Elain had only seen yesterday, standing a bit old and used, beside the sink.

The stool looked even smaller now – squished and destroyed into pieces – under Fersia’s heavy form, that sat still baffled among the remaining's – such clear confusion written across the normally grumpy female, that Elain couldn’t help as to give way to the warm bubbly feeling inside her chest. A lough, as golden as honey, spilling like water from her lips as she held onto her stomach. Fersia could only laugh with her as she watched her lovely Goldenrod shake and cry from laughter, not even the slightest bit of rage had simmered inside the Illyrian as her friend suddenly burst out laughing – like it normally would have happened.

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

The rest of the morning, sweet and golden, like it hadn’t been since centuries, glowed warm over the deep green tip of the large pine trees, simmering from gentleness and warmth throughout all their breakfast as they slowly prepared for the visit to the Mother.

Somehow Fersia doubted that the mighty female would even want to see the intruder again, before she would send her off and far away from their home –if not even kill her in an accident before she was able to leave. It send chills down the Illyrians mighty body as Elain herself, did not seem fond of the idea to meet the frightening female from yesterday again, as they marched slowly through the mud of her little Village. Whispers and hushed voices following them like shadows the sunrays, as they were to finally stand in front of the giant hall again, dark and threatening did it savour all the light that was to meet the dark surface of the stones – just like it did since centuries, perhaps even millenniums.

No one, not even the Mother, was sure of the age this place harboured – yet everyone amongst their kind knew, that this hall was cruelty incarnate, as not even the mightiest of Illyrians and War-lords wanted to encounter this place in their nightmares. Deeming it as a bad omen whenever they did – and mostly they were right. Plagues, foreign soldiers marching among their ground or just a bad harvest, were all such things which could happen once they were to encounter this place in their dreams. Most were able to escape those heavy dark gates in the fort of dreams – though they remembered this place with the same misery as Elain now, as she eyed the heavy doors again – while others did not have the chance to talk about what they had seen. Fear having caught their heart in an eternal run as this place sucked their life away, like a mosquito drank blood.

Fersia could only hope that today's visit would be different than yesterdays, as she slowly opened the gates to the castle of nightmares again, careful to always have an eye on Elain once her booted feet stepped tentatively over the dark threshold.

“Come on, Goldenrod, you should already be familiar with the way.” tried Fersia to encourage her friend into walking. It was a feeble try to get her sweet flowers smile back, who merely took her outstretched hand again, but somehow Elain still tried to give her a faint smile – a weak dust of her normal golden beam- but it was still there. Her will – her silent bravery – was still there, and Fersia would try her best to let it stay where it was, or even grow, as she dragged her once again through the greedy stomach of this dark serpent of a house, until they were face to face with the door, as tall as a mountain. High and threatening did it lurk in front of the threshold of fear, her Mother waited – with bloody red lips – behind those wings of cold darkness, like the devil in hell awaited, with each passing moment, a crippled soul he could torture. Sadly, it was the same with her Mother, though Fersia could only hope – at the depth of the roots of these grounds – that she would have mercy on Elain.

After all, Fersia wasn't able to pin point the seers reactions too, if anything was to happen. She always seemed happy, most often did this far away gaze fog over her eyes – a wisdom, far beyond her years, taking over this sweet dainty body of her friend – too, but sometimes – sometimes there lurked hurt and something far more dangerous behind her eyes. A storm of rage and hurt seemingly turning this calm land of earth, in her eyes, into a swirling storm of sand. Darker and lighter specks of brown flying around in her irises, as if they were a mirror to her soul – showing the outside of her inner war – while she stood rigid as death in the vibrating song of the sunrays. Not even a strand of her, normally, so bouncy hair dared to move, whenever those emotions swirled through her, as if they were afraid, that if they would only meet her eye – they would be torn to pieces.

Perhaps this rage, and quiet storm, would rise like the sun this morning did – bright and warm- though she assumed, that even though Elain’s rage might be of a blinding light, but it would never be warm. Hot and searing, would her rage burn flesh and blood from the bones of her opponent.

It was a strength she rarely showed, yet it was there, and those who dared to step into this field of a brooding volcano would be sure to burn themselves to death, as the seer would roast them. Something the Illyrian would have loved to see, with every fibre of her being, if she wouldn’t have known that on the receiving end sat her Mother, who already was a brooding volcano when she was not angry. But now, all they could do, was to wait and see, how these two opposites would face each other.

When Fersias knuckles, heavy as stone, drummed quietly against the door, she expected Ria and Derna to open it from the inside, as they did not stand, stiff as a salt pillar, next to each dark wing that led to the stomach of the serpent like house, but no one seemed to have heard her, as those heavy doors did not open up. And so, Fersia pushed the door open herself. Those calloused fingertips of hers, already blind to the touch of searing warmth, which meandered through the stone gate.

Her feet were not even past the threshold, when her Mothers voice, roaring and mighty, met her rounded ears “Fersia! I wish to speak to our guest alone!” “But … ““I will not hear any further complain” her voice dripped of command and consequences if she was to disobey “You are to leave this instant! I remember that your training is calling for you.”

Fersia could do nothing but growl – her wings tugged in tightly as she tried to protect herself and the female behind her – as she did not even see a glimpse of the female sitting proudly atop her century old throne. Of the age of this thing Fersia was certain, it was built by her mother – the one who used to love and care for her – during a darker time of history, a time where she still was an innocent Illyrian, one that followed and never second guessed a decision – like she did now. Everything inside of her screamed to stay, to further block the path to the female on the throne, but she was to obey, as a searing wave of magic had hit her face.

Growls were the last thing that were exchanged between the two females, as the fawn was led into the territory of the huntress, but now Fersia could do nothing more.

If she was to disobey, they were both in trouble, considering that she was most likely to be killed and Elain left open as a prey to the rest of their tribe, like this, there was still a small chance, which promised a chance of life for the two of them, as her Mother was known to often make rushed decisions, but never too recklessly – and killing a stranger, without the knowledge of heritage, was a danger not even she would summon.

And so, it was up to her sweet Goldenrod to decide over her fate, as the Illyrian was to leave her behind a slamming door – her feet already stomping through the great hallways – as she could not change the queer feeling inside her guts, that not only the gate to the world of nightmare had closed.

__________________

It was again there, the feeling, searing and lurking had it waited for her and jumped her the moment she crossed over the threshold. As tentative and shy her step might have been, the magic had identified her once again, and where it was biting and searing yesterday, it seemed snuggly and warm – almost like a cat, that purred for her attention – as she moved through the serpent's hallway today. Quietness seemed to have ensued every step, she and Fersia made, until she was to hear the exchange of growls.

Growls, deep primal sounds, that was all she heard, as the words seemed drowned out by the fuzzy warmth of the red fur stola of magic, that wrapped itself around her head. And then, the next thing she knew, she stood alone in the dark hall.

Torches – just like yesterday – danced and licked with their warm light at the sleek stone walls of a black darker than any nightmare as they were to lighten up the stuffy room. Heat, sizzling and hot, radiated through the air and waved even up to the tapered ceiling, but the heat did not come from the fire, no.

Eyes, as blood as the red of the setting sun, glowered in the dark at her. Marking each quiet shift and uneasy twist of the fawn as possible hint of what she might do next – it almost felt like as if this female, mighty and powerful, harboured the fearsome sight of the future too. Though the Illyrian would have not needed it in order to scare someone, if Elain was honest – at least not for her. Her stomach, as filled as it was, already dropping at the sight of pure colour that radiated through the room and off of the female, in flowing waves.

Skirts of blood red chiffon dropped layer for layer, from the dark leather banter around her chest, like a wave of blood, that slowly – almost agonisingly- ran down her tanned body and pooled, once again, to a puddle of blood at her mighty feet. Everything of this female felt too powerful, too frightening, too … wrong, from the tip of her sharp, golden glowing talon – atop of her broad wings- to the devils' smirk on her red painted lips, that showed off those white fangs, and her whole posture. The way she held herself –head high and chest rigid- she knew who she was and what her power could do and Elain was just a little mouse, that walked into the home of the serpent. She didn’t even think of it as necessary to put on her crown (she surely must have head one) for her.

“Greetings, dear Goldenrod.” echoed her voice through the dark hall, setting fear running inside her heart, as the Illyrian beckoned her, with a strong hand, closer. If the seer was tentative before, then what was she now? What was not even a dust from the security she felt before? What was she now? Nervous, frightened?

She didn’t know, but one thing was for sure, this nickname- sweet and caring as it was- felt wrong in her ears, from the females' tongue, as if the power in her voice – the pure might- made the name sound toxic, not healing – like it always did whenever Fersia called her by the name of the sweet flower.

“Elain.” echoed now her grave voice through the room, no fear trembled through her name as she spoke and the female merely lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, Elain” she emphasised “I assume Fersia hadn’t told you much about me.” She didn’t even wait for the fawns answer as she rose from her throne, a mountain of a female, that was the one who stood before her, as she slowly – almost predatorily – strolled down the little pedestal and stood still and unwavering, like the sun, in front of Elain. “I am Kasedja and I am the Mother of the Angisciri-tribe.”

Her wings, colourful as any kaleidoscope, shone lilac and reddish down on the seer, once she had flared them brightly, though it was only a distraction. One Elain could have foreseen, if she wouldn’t have been that adamant with keeping her visions untrained and in raw power, but she hadn’t and now the result was this: a hand, with the grip of a crow's claw, tearing red streaks into the skin of her pale cheeks, over which the dust of freckles was powdered, while her red painted mouth whispered almost searing words into the pointed tip of her ear, “And you, little fawn, are not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

“I don’t even know what you are talking about!” growled Elain at her, anger knitting itself through the pale skin on her face, as she narrowed her eyes at Kasedja –who seemed to have never heard of private space. She knew it was unlikely for her to be angry, to have such a primal noise even exceed in the quietest of ways over her lips, but she tried to start a new, which also meant to try out these new aspects of herself she had discovered. Such colourful aspects, which were yet dusted, as she had to explore these emotions, she had buried a life time ago in a human body.

Kasedja only laughed at her, as she started to stalk like a cat around the room – quiet mischief dancing in those eyes that set her stomach churning “Well, Elain, I am wondering – if you plan to stay here, how long do you plan on fooling my second in command, for how long do you want to keep lying to her?” the Illyrians voice was low, dripping from silent mockery and a smirk Elain couldn’t make out, as she had turned her mighty wings towards her, while a Torch – next to her throne- had woken more interest in the Mother, than in Elain. “I am not fooling anyone!” “So, now you are fooling yourself too?” mocked her mighty voice.

And even though Elain did not want to believe this, did not want to listen to these words, she still knew that Kasedja was right. She had lied to Fersia, plenty of times, had hidden the truth from her – already more times than the seer lived years- and just now she knew, that if she would keep on doing this, she would lose her only friend she had now. She wasn’t able to go back to Velaris, Elain knew that if the hurt looks of her family – due to her behaviour – washed over her, that the churning tides and sharp stones in the sea would have hurt her less.

She could only stay here, here where she wanted to build up a life, she had chosen to build for herself. But still, Elain might have given up the name Archeron, yet she didn’t lose her stubbornness, which was just about to break through the layer of self-control, like a diver through the water surface.

“You are one to talk! How many of your people know of what has happened inside the forest?!”

Kasedja turned in a raging cloud of red, before she stomped – fast as a lightning- through the mellow golden light of the fire over to her. “You better keep your mouth shut about things you have no clue of!”

Elain huffed a hot cloud of air out and into the room of blazing fire filled with nightmares, as she looked into the churning eyes of the female that stood, shaking from rage, in front of her. “I know what you are trying to do.” echoed her voice solemnly through the buzzing air, but Kasedja did not even want to acknowledge the delicate high fae anymore as she rolled her eyes and threw a lose strand of her ink black hair, in a lazy movement, over her strong shoulder. “Do you?”

The seer tried to ignore the searing wall of hurting words that slowly build itself brick for brick up in her -ready to break the steeled surface of self restraint Elain had crafted over the years inside of her- but that steel was too hard. Had withheld already too many searing words, as that these words could have been of any difference to this cold surface. “I can at least imagine.” spoke the seer with a steeled spine. Words, as soft as the petals she loved oh so dearly, would not spill from her mouth anymore, as she knew that a prettied-up truth was a half lie too, and Elain decided she did not want to feed those pretty lies to anyone anymore.

No guilt would sliver down her cold spine, making her aware of the words she just spoke, anymore. The truth often hurt, but it was better than a soft lie that could catch up any day to someone – a brick, rocky and hard, meeting the softened head of someone who was told the wrong thing.

“You try to protect your people.” Elain held her small, straight nose a bit higher as her pale hands fisted the soft fabric of her green dress “You are their Mother, and as their leader it is your duty to protect those who bow to you, which are all these females here – even those who died bowed in front of you till their last breath. Yet you deny the truth! You seek lies in order to prevent your people from asking what had happened to their beloved ones. You keep telling yourself you do this to protect and not hurt them, but do you really prevent them from hurt and not just yourself?”

“How are you supposed to know of this!” hissed Kasedja at her, as she started to walk on heavy feet, with clanking boots, like a hungry tiger, in front of her throne, this strong –almost arrogant face of hers- twisted in a landscape of rage “You are a nobody! You have no idea what it means to protect, what these people have for connections with one another! You, Elain, are just some happy-go-lucky kid, who got chosen by luck! I do not need your advice – like you said it, I am their Mother and I decide that we do not need your help!”

“Those Illyrians are dying and each of you is in grave danger if you keep being oblivious to what is happening outside there! You have to talk to them –with honest words- they are your family after all, if you won’t tell them now, they might never trust you again.” Her desperate, almost pleading, voice rang through her own ears like a shill screech, that transported her many months back. Months in which she had to plead for something which was rightfully hers – her freedom.

It was a walk, a simple stroll through Velaris, she wanted to make, but she was locked away into the grand river estate. Feyre and the rest of the Inner circle, had left in the wake of dawn, when even Elain still tossed and turned in her sheets, for the Court of Nightmares – having let her behind once again. If it would have only been that, Elain would have had no problem,she was used to being left behind, but she was left in the house. No open window, no door, had let her past into the world of mother nature. Her garden had been in full bloom this day, but she was left to watch those flowers from afar, as she hammered against the invisible barrier, which honed her with the delightful beauty of her garden. Back then she had not been able to hear the dull sound her fist had made, whenever she set the surface rippling, but she heard those cries that had left her, had felt every screech like a fire in her throat as she begged to be let out, but no one heard her – no one came for her. She had been locked the entire day and the entire day did she spend pounding and crying against the cold wall that seemed to laugh at her, as she sank onto the cold tiles of white marble.

It was the same with these people – they were locked away from the truth and the chance was high – that just like Elain never truly forgave Feyre- they would never be able to forgive those lies which were spoken by their Mother, but apparently Kasedja did not want to hear of this as she firmly stated “You are not to get your filthy fingers into the business of my tribe, I do not need the advice from a beast! Get out and be glad I’ll let you stay here! But I swear, if one word moves past your pretty lips –I'll cut out your tongue personally.”

“I am no beast -” whispered Elain merely, as she followed the order with heavy eyelids and moved to the grand entrance again. It was no use – she could not convince a rock to move- it was better to let the headstrong Illyrian be, as to get herself into more trouble than she could afford, yet she could not withhold some of the searing words, which moved past her barrier of steel as mere pebble stones: “I was merely fed up with pretty lies.”

“Yet you still have their shattered lives in your claws, beast.” honed the mighty voice of the female through the searing air a last time, as Elain squeezed herself through the tight gap between the dark wings of the broad gate.

___________________ previous chapter | next chapter _________

Dear Jesus Christ, I am so, so sorry I havn’t posted the chapter in time, but I still hope you liked it😊 And as always, theories are always welcome as well as general feedback.

Oh, and before I forget it - can I please call each of you out! There are already 100 hundred of you following me😘😘🥰🥰 and I can’t decribe the feeling of sheer happiness inside me( I am just one big shiny, happy rainbow right now😊) Anyway, I am planning to do something as a special piece of writing and I can’t wait to share it with you.

I hope you have a nice day/night and again hope you enjoyed

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49 notes · View notes

01sentencereviews · 2 years

Text

the rosie o'donnell show (+ all aboard! rosie's family cruise), my life on the d-list, the real housewives franchise (more specifically, rhony), american idol (seasons 1-5 mainly), laguna beach (particularly season 2), the hills (the LC seasons only), jersey shore, twin peaks, lost + heroes + desperate housewives (aka any network drama i watched with my mom during middle/high school), summer heights high, girls, looking, the o.c., the 2009 VMAs, flavor of love, i love new york, vh1′s “i love...” series, britney and kevin: chaotic (didn’t actually watch in full until quite recently but those images permeated in my brain long before), barefoot contessa, the game show network, nyc prep, project runway (original bravo run only), top chef (specifically san francisco, LA, & chicago), work of art: the next great artist, the secret life of an american teenager, LiamKyleSullivan’s youtube channel, don hertzfeldt's rejected, ~teen girl squad~ (homestarrunner.com), salad fingers, beyond the trailer [during the indie moguel days], broad city, ChronicGamerGirl, full house, hey arnold!, courage the cowardly dog, american horror story: asylum, america’s next top model (i fell off after season 10), rupaul’s drag race.................

#formative 'television'#...for ME!#for better or worse #that's my opinion!!#personal

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moonshotsx · 3 years

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hope you're not fed up with hurt/comfort! rosie feeling insecure about her body after birth but denali and mari comfort her and make her feels beautiful!

tiger stripes club 💞

—

They were on their first vacation since Maysie was born.

The cruise’s pool was overflowing with people, everyone trying to get cool by jumping into the cool water.

Everyone but Rosé, who was currently laying on the deck chair under the umbrella.

She did want to join her wife and kids but had never realized just how self conscious she had become after giving birth to Maysie.

The faint lines that now adorned the sides of her body felt unbearable.

She waved at her family when Maribel called to let her see a cool trick she had learned from some other kids at the pool.

She sighed heavily when she saw Denali comeback to sit next to her, Maysie half asleep in her arms.

“At least, she’ll be asleep for a couple of hours,” she commented, readjusting the tiny bucket hat on the baby.

She stopped to take a loo at her wife, “Is everything alright, Rosie?”

The redhead knew there was no point in lying, “It’s just that I haven’t felt, you know, amazing about my body after having May,” she confessed, lifting her sunglasses to look at the brunette, “I know it’s stupid, I literally grew a baby inside me but seeing those stretch marks appear and knowing they won’t go anywhere doesn’t help”

Neither of them had noticed Maribel had come back, hair still dripping from the pool water, “What are stretch marks?” she asked curiously.

“Those light lines across your mama’s stomach, a lot of people got them, myself included,” Denali explained.

“If many people have them, why do you not like them?”

Rosé was taken aback by the honest answer, “I don’t think they look really nice on me”

“But they are like tiger stripes! Tigers are cool and strong, just like you, mama!”

She looked at her daughter, feeling her heart flow with love at the genuine excitement of her daughter over something she deemed a flaw, “You do have a point, princess”

The redhead took a deep breath, setting down the book that was hiding her stomach, “So, what about that jump you wanted to show me?”

Maribel’s eyes lit up as she took her mama’s hand, dragging her into the water.

Denali smiled as she took the camera, taking a pictures of her girls in the water while Maysie slept happily on her chest.

#fic prompt #rosenali

15 notes · View notes

saylors-universe · 3 years

Text

All Hands on Deck, three

Rowaelin cruise trip AU

Masterlist here

word count: 5794

[Warning: explicatory language, references to sex]

[This is an interactive story! I will include Authorʻs Notes throughout the chapters to inform you when to start a particular song that you can find here in the All Hands on Deck playlist (Also can be found on the masterlist). For the best experience, listen with headphones, AND FOLLOW ALONG WITH THE STORY. Please try to use your imagination when listening and reading - live through the words. Have fun :) - Saylor]

DAY 2 - AT SEA - “Ping-Pong Competition from 12-3pm on the Sports Deck”

Aelin wakes with a throbbing headache and a searing pain from the bright light seeping into the cabin from an unfamiliar, large window with an amazing view of the open ocean. Sheʻs never been good with hangovers but this one surely takes the cake of being the most painful. She reaches her arm across her bed, trying to find her phone to see how late it is, but her fingers get tangled in a messy mop of brown curls. Shit. Finally more awake and aware, she looks over to see a tanned, defined and toned back. Trying to assess more of the situation, she sits up and gazes around a large, more homey cabin, which she determined definitely was not hers. What the fuck did you do Aelin. She racks her brain, trying to compile a report of events from the previous night.

She recalls putting on her sexy, red party dress, which she located on the ground by the cabin door. She remembers drinking way too much, more than she normally allows herself. Why would I intentionally over do myself like that? Then like a brick to the head she remembers the reason, Rowan Whitethorn. Rowan had been there. Rowan was here. On this ship. In a band. What is he doing here? And what other poor decisions did she make last night in spite of his presence. Or on a more pressing note, who is this stranger lying next to her? She vaguely remembers a night of music, annoyingly loud shrieks, and many, many alcoholic beverages. She can recall dancing with Manon who replaced herself with a tan, attractive and very unfortunate bystander. A hazy memory resurfaces of her night dancing with this man, or to be more technical, dancing on him. She recalls passionate, drunk kisses, and a long make out session on the trip to his room behind the shipʻs bridge (command center). Brief moments of ecstasy and pleasure from the night with this stranger flash through her mind.

Connecting the dots, she slowly slips out of the bed and looks around, and gathers her shoes and phone. She picks up her dress on the floor and slips into it in a much easier and faster manner than she had the previous night. She spots her key card under the bed, on the side of her one-night stand. As she reaches for it, he fusses and drearily opens his eyes. She quietly chokes as she really takes in the man. He was wildly attractive, his honey brown eyes matched his chestnut locks, now messy with bed head.

“Hey you,” he greets, his voice heavy with sleep. His lips curl up in a mild grin, a grin that Aelin would have found completely adorable if she had known who he was and not been in this particular situation.

“Hi.. um”

“Sam,” he offers.

“Hi, Sam. I, uh, I have to go meet my friends for breakfast, so uh, maybe Iʻll see you around, I donʻt know, Bye!” she spouts before rushing out the door.

After successfully making it to the elevators, she leans against the back wall and sighs deeply. She takes on the walk of shame, heels in hand, and travels down her hall suddenly feeling very small. She passes a family and a few other passengers and canʻt help having a paranoid feeling that everyone was staring at her. Making it to her room, she enters and is greeted by Manon, Lys, Aedion, and Elide all crowded in the room. Feeling their weighted gaze and curious looks she ignores them and face plants on her bed.

“Fun night?” her cousin questions.

“Coffee first,” Aelin mumbles into her pillow.

“Freshen up and weʻll go see if Emrys has any,” Elide advises.

Aelin mumbles something into the pillow that sounded like a defeated agreement. She reluctantly leaves the comfort of her bed and takes a much needed, warm shower, washing the residue of last night off. Once she felt clean and somewhat normal, she put on some comfortable grey sweatpants and a short, black cropped tank top. She styles her wet hair in a quick braid and reconvenes with her friends in the main cabin. The group makes the trip to the Lido deck and find some empty seats at the food bar.

“Just in time my friends, we were just about to close up the omelette station,” the cheerful Emrys addresses the group. Luca goes through each person, jotting down their orders and finally gets to Aelin.

“Whatʻll it be milady?” the young chef asks.

“Just coffee please, thanks Luca”

“You got it,” he returns with the coffee pot in hand, filling up the mug he placed in front of her. She pours a concerning amount of sugar into her coffee and when sheʻs satisfied she takes a few sips. A dirty moan escapes her mouth, finally extinguishing her hungover pains, the rest of her party, including Emrys and Luca just stare at her in question.

“What,” she asks innocently, “this is really good coffee,” she defends.

Aedion lifts his brow in questioning, “so what happened to you last night?”

The whole group stares her down in interrogation. She breaks under the pressure, “Really itʻs Manonʻs fault, she told me to go out and have a one-night stand,” she was aware that Aedion informed Lysandra about her breakup with Chaol, Manon probably spilled to Elide, “plus seeing Rowan last night was a shock, so I donʻt know okay, I freaked out, and I got drunk, and I slept with someone, okay? there it is.”

After a few seconds of silence everyone bursts out laughing, one after another. Lysandra wipes her eyes, wet from crying with laughter.

“Finally,” she laughs again, “geez Aelin you were so wound up, we were all praying for you to get laid, we were just worried you got so wasted that you passed out and fell overboard or something.”

“So whoʻs the lucky guy?” Elide pries.

“I donʻt know, he said his name was Sam?”

“Sam Cortland?” Emrys interrupts, listening to the tea.

“I donʻt know, we didnʻt get to a last name basis, I donʻt even think he knows my name.”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, tanned, muscular, about ye high,” he puts his hand about six inches above his head.

“Yeah sounds about right”

Emrys and Luca share a look with each other and then break out in more laughs, nearly dropping to the floor in continuous giggles and labored breathing.

“My dear, you spent the night with THE Sam Cortland, a co-captain of the Ellywe Voyager,” Emrys finally reveals after calming down from his laughter high.

Her face goes pale, draining of all color, processing what she had done.

“I slept with the fucking captain!,” she said a little too loud for nearby ears.

“One of them, Iʻm pretty sure he wasnʻt on call last night”

Everyone immediately falls into fits of laughter once again, which she did not find amusing or hilarious at all. Manon, who almost never shows emotions, could not contain her tears of laughter, nearly dying of her questionable cackling. Aelin zeroes in on her, brows furrowed, eyes glaring in a manner that would have terrified anyone else, but not Manon.

“Iʻm going to kill you.”

“Iʻd like to see you try babes,” Manon snickers even more.

As the rest of them finish up their breakfast Elide asks if they want to head to the music room and practice for tonightʻs show, and then if they have some time, hit the pool before their performance. They agree with the plan and get up to leave.

“Iʻll be there soon, I need to finish my coffee and process my existence for a little while longer,” Aelin jokes, just needing some time to collect her thoughts.

Noting her tone, Aedion hangs back for a couple seconds, “your not still sad about Chaol are you?”

“Oh god, Chaol. I forgot about that,” she did, she had successfully forgotten about him and their breakup. She had forgotten the pain he had caused her, it was replaced by confusion and emptiness, that was temporarily healed last night. “Iʻm good, really Aedion, I feel much better.”

“Youʻre sure?”

She nods and then hugs her protective cousin. He shuffles off and catches up with their friends, abandoning Aelin in Emrys and Lucaʻs warm company.

“So the captain huh..” Luca makes conversation.

“Ugh,” she cries and drops her head into her hands, which causes Luca to chuckle a little more as he wipes down the counters and continues cleaning up from their breakfast mess. He gathers the dishes and takes them to the back to wash with Emrys, leaving Aelin to her coffee and thoughts.

“Hey stranger,” a deep, firm voice called behind her.

Gods, oh gods no. She turns expecting to see the captain she had spent the night with but no, whatever higher powers there was, they definitely had a bone to pick with her. Instead of the brown eyed brunette acquaintance, a tall, muscular and tanned man with flowy, silver locks and piercing, pine green eyes stood with a familiar, soft smile and dimple creasing his cheek.

“Rowan,” she said sounding surprised, “Hi.” She offered him a hug that not only felt unnatural, but extremely awkward and he takes a seat at the bar stool next to her.

“I canʻt believe itʻs really you. Wow, how long has it been, what eight, nine years?” She knew exactly how long itʻs been; eight years, six months, and ten days since her heart was shattered and since they had last laid eyes on each other. She shouldn't know how long itʻs been but she did.

“Um yeah something like that,” he knew just as long as well, all the way down to the hour, but heʻd never tell her that, “I thought that was you I saw last night, you look... really great Aelin,” understatement of the century, he thought to himself.

Her body betrays her and a soft, rosy blush appears on her cheeks.

“Thanks, you look great too,” ʻYou look great?ʻ you idiot, he looks so good, like sex personified, her eyes may have spent a little too long lingering his body when assessing him again.

“What are you doing here?” they both ask at the same time, then laughed.

“Iʻm in the band, playing for the cruise,” Rowan starts.

“Me too,” Aelin stammers, “well in the other one I guess.”

“Youʻre in Elideʻs band?”

“Mhm,” she nods, taking another sip of her now cold coffee, “youʻre in Lorcanʻs?”

“Yeah. Wow, small world.”

“Iʻll say,” then she chuckles, “you guyʻs were amazing last night,” she adds.

“Thanks, I hear you guys perform tonight, right? Iʻm looking forward to it”

“Yeah, speaking of that, I better head to practice, theyʻre expecting me,” she swiftly downs the rest of her coffee, yells to Emrys and Luca in the back thanking them for breakfast, then turns back to Rowan, “it was good seeing you.”

“Yeah, you too,” he lifts his arm, hand resting behind his neck, “Could I possibly see you again, sometime?” he asks, not realizing how the question would affect her.

“Maybe,” she promises and then flees off to the Promenade level, where Elide had informed her the music room was. She passes through the beautiful ballroom with the lonely grand piano, just begging to be played.

After a few wrong turns, she makes it to the music room where her bandmates are nearly finished setting up. “I just ran into Rowan,” she confesses, struggling to slow her racing heart and short breaths.

“You okay?” Elide comforts, swearing she had no idea her Rowan Whitethorn was the Rowan apart of Lorcanʻs band.

“Yeah I think Iʻve just experienced enough shock and bad decisions for a lifetime,” she takes a few deep breaths and calms herself, “have you guys decided on the set for tonight?”

Lysandra answers, “we think so, we really want to show the guys up and go big tonight you know? So how about we open with Rooftop, go into All Stars, and ...” she plans their set and the rest of the girls agree, stoked for the energetic and fun show ahead. They prepare their instruments, Aelin with her bass, Elide and Lys with their guitars and Lys also on the keyboard, lastly Manon on drums and sound board. Queenʻs Court started as a rock alternative band but they learned other styles and adapted pop, and edm as well and incorporated the different styles within their writing. They played a few clean run throughs and felt satisfied for the show later that night. After practice they packed up their instruments and notified the staff they were ready to have their gear brought to the stage and set up, which they took care of.

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

NIGHT 2 - AT SEA - “Come check out the ʻQueenʻs Courtʻ Live on the Sky Deck at 7pm”

Finishing their practice earlier than expected, the girls decided to return to their rooms and change into their swimsuits to dip in the pool before their show. Elide alerts everyone that she invited Lorcan so there would be a possibility of his friends joining, an addition Aelin didn't completely object too. She told herself that seeing Rowan again wouldn't be the worst thing, plus if the two bands were going to be sharing stage time, they might as well get to know each other.

With the extra audience in mind, Aelin picks out her most flattering, vibrant green bikini that showed off her sculpted, sexy figure, not leaving much to imagination. Manon chose a pretty, black bandeau top and matching bikini bottoms. Aelin puts on a white, mesh bathing suit cover up mini-dress that only showed off the bikini more, and Manon a deep red, mesh skirt, tying the black and red ensemble together. Together they recite their self confidence mantra: I am Hot. I am Sexy. I am Badass. I am That Bitch. and they grab their keycards and head up to the pool to meet their friends.

They run into Lysandra and Aedion on their way out and traveled to the Lido deck together. Sure enough, The Cadre had decided to join the Queenʻs Court on their little pool get together. The men she recalled from the show last night had already been in the pool, swimming and fooling around, when they had reached the deck. They had been the only people on the deck, everyone seemed to have been at dinner, a perk the bands have not taken advantage of yet. Lorcan and Elide who stayed in their corner of the pool, were the first to greet them. An unfairly attractive, shirtless and sculpted man with beautiful golden hair hops out of the pool and greets the newcomers.

“Ladies,” he acknowledges as he grabs his towel off an occupied sun tanning chair. “And bro,” he shakes Aedionʻs hand who takes it firmly.

“Please, call me Aedion.”

“You got it, Iʻm Fenrys, and thatʻs Connal,” he points to the dark brunette man laying on the nearby tanning chair with his towel, who looks nearly identical to him, besides the hair. “And you beautiful ladies are?” They each go around introducing each other. After getting acquainted, Aelin looks at the pool and gasps at the sight of a shirtless, wet Rowan exiting the pool, water dripping down his muscular figure and defined abs and chest.

“Rowan,” he introduces, “how you doing?”

Lysandra leans in to Aelin and whispers near her ear, “ Oh. My. Gods.”

Aelin wacks her arm, as if defending herself from being caught, and Lysandra just giggles and grabs Aedion to get in the pool. Rowan grabs his phone and syncs up with the pool deck speakers nearby and starts a playlist.

[A.N.] You can play “Temple” by Preston Hutto now if you want. I will not be following along with the lyrics, Rowan just plays this song and sets the vibe for their afternoon. Find playlist here.

They managed to make it to the pool just in time for sunset. The entire sky lights up with beautiful hues of orange and pink. Manon and Aelin take base at the deck railing, watching the mesmerizing natural art. The activities director, Dorian, walks by, making last minute checks for the show.

“Hey you guys, beautiful isnʻt it,” he startles the two, taking their attention from the sky.

“Dorian, hi,” Manon says, a little higher than she normally talks.

Understanding that they have already been acquainted, Aelin reaches out a hand for him to shake and introduces herself. She notices the two starting to hit it off, talking about some time they shared the previous night, and she takes the hint and excuses herself.

She takes off her mesh cover dress, leaving it with her friendsʻ towels and belongings on a sun-tanning deck chair and struts to the pool, taking a seat on the pools edge and dips in her feet. Before too long, Rowan approaches, taking his place seated next to her.

“Hey you,” “Hey yourself,”

As if no time had passed, the two click once again and try to catch up as best they could, starting with their band stories and recent events. Rowan, who was more private with his business than most, always felt completely comfortable and vulnerable with Aelin, exposing his deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings. He shares with her his past, his experience dropping out of college and instead finding work in construction, where he reconnected with Lorcan and met Fenrys and Connal. He shares about his relationship with Lyria, how he was preparing to propose, when they had irresponsibly gotten into a severe car crash and she passed away. He admits to falling off the deep end, in a wave of depression and rage, a place Lorcan and his two other bandmates pulled him out of. He revealed how their music saved him and brought him out of a miserable, guilt-ridden existence.

As instinct, she lays a hand on his bicep and makes soft vertical motions, soothing and comforting him. She takes her turn, sharing how they organically came together through their roommates, one day discovering that they each were musically gifted and decided to combine their talents. She tells about her discovery her cheating ex boyfriend and her late night fiasco with the shipʻs captain. Rowan laughs about the captain situation but Aelin could see through the mask, and noticed a hint of displeasure. She takes a turn sharing her deep rooted feelings, feelings that she had not fully shown her friends. She shares how she had been feeling broken and empty in recent months after losing her parents to illness, she shares a similar story of how writing music had helped her deal with her feelings.

Moving into the pool, where each couple held their own corner, Aelin and Rowan continued to share their stories, many of which were embarrassing, and got the other to laugh hysterically. What felt like no time at all, had actually been forever. Elide pointed out that they lost track of time, and had to be on stage in five minutes. The girls assembled and decided to just perform in their swimsuits, agreeing that it was just as provocative as what they probably would have prepared.

After somewhat drying off, The Cadre boys + Dorian escort the Queenʻs Court girls + Aedion up to the Sky deck and backstage.

...

“Donʻt set the bar too high, alright ladies, we guys still have to make a living somehow,” Fenrys teases.

Rowan takes his chance and pulls Aelin aside. “Break a leg out there,” he cheers for her. She just returns his wink from the former night, and he quite literally feels his heart skip a beat.

The shirtless, still mildly soaked, men find their place in the large audience, towering over many of the nearby fan girls who canʻt help but stare and gawk at them. While their attention was on them, his attention was solely on the blonde beauty in a green bikini. The beautiful women take the stage. The crowd roars and Rowan can feel the already wild energy from the group and itʻs fans.

He watches like a hawk, as Aelin grabs the front microphone.

“Ellywe how are we feeling tonight,” the audience matches with loud screams and cheers, “really? thatʻs it? come on, I know you guys can get louder than that,” she baits the crowd. They accept the challenge and grow exponentially in volume. “Now thatʻs what I like to hear, Ellywe are you guys ready to party?” He thought it impossible, yet the audience got even louder in their joyful praises. “What do you think girls? I say we show Ellywe Voyager how we party in the Queenʻs Court,” more gleeful shrieks.

[A.N.] Play “Rooftop” by Skylar Stecker now, follow along, and let your imagination take you there. Find the playlist here.

- The house lights shine vibrant blues and reds all over the stage. -

Manon (soundboard): BUM-DID-DE-DUM-DID-DE-DUM-DA-DUM

Aelin: YE-AH!

- The crowd immediately matches the beat and starts dancing -

Manon: BUM-DE-DI-DUM-DA-DE-DUM-BUM-MI-DAD-DUM-BUDDA-DUM-DUMD-D-D-D-D-DUM

Aelin: YOU KNOW IʻM THROWINʻ IT UP [HEY!]

TO ALL MY GIRLS IN THE CITY [WOO!]

AND IF YOU ROLLINʻ WITH US [HEY!]

IT AINʻT GONNA BE PRETTY [WOO!]

WE ALWAYS KEEP IT ONE HUNDRED, HUNDRED [HEY!]

NO, WE NEVER GO ʻFITY [WOO!]

AND WE BE SHUTTINʻ IT DOWN [HEY!]

SO WHO COMINʻ WITH ME

OH, SOMEONE KEEPINʻ IT LOUD

LIVINʻ RIGHT HERE AND NOW

AND IF YOU DONʻT KNOW, NOW, WHAT IʻM TALKINʻ ABOUT

SAY, “OOOOOOOO-OOO-OOO-OO-OOO-OOOOOOOH”

WE GONNA SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOP [HEY!]

ʻCAUSE WE WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW

SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOP [HEY!]

IF YOU READY, COME ON, HERE WE GO

SHOUT IT OUT WITH MEEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA

THIS IS HOW ITʻS GOINʻ BEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA

WE GET IT GOINʻ LIKE, “BUM-DED-DE-DUM-DID-DE-DUM-DA-DUM

BUM-DE-DI-DUM-DA-DE-DUM-BUM-MI-DID-DUM-BUDDA-DUM-DUMD-D-D-D-D-DUM

BUM-DED-DE-DUM-DID-DE-DUM-DA-DUM

BUM-DE-DI-DUM-DA-DE-DUM-BUM-MI-DID-DUM-BUDDA-DUM-DUMD-D-D-D-D-DUM”

COME ON AND GET IT THE ZONE [HEY!]

WHY ARE YOU WAITINʻ? [WOO!]

AND IF YOU WANNA GO HOME [HEY!]

YOU BETTA WATCH WHAT YOU SAYINʻ [WOO!]

ʻCAUSE WE ONLY GONNA TURN THINGS UP, NOW [HEY!]

WEʻRE NEVER FADINʻ [WOO!]

AND IF YOU WANNA GET DOWN [HEY!]

IT AINʻT COMPLICATED

AAYE-AAYE

OH, SOMEONE KEEPINʻ IT LOUD

LIVINʻ RIGHT HERE AND NOW

AND IF YOU DONʻT KNOW, NOW, WHAT IʻM TALKINʻ ABOUT

SAY, “OOOOOOOO-OOO-OOO-OO-OOO-OOOOOOOH”

WE GONNA SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOP [HEY!]

ʻCAUSE WE WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW

SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOP [HEY!]

IF YOU READY, COME ON, HERE WE GO

SHOUT IT OUT WITH MEEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA

THIS IS HOW ITʻS GOINʻ BEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA

WE GET IT GOINʻ LIKE, “BUM-DED-DE-DUM-DID-DE-DUM-DA-DUM

BUM-DE-DI-DUM-DA-DE-DUM-BUM-MI-DID-DUM-BUDDA-DUM-DUMD-D-D-D-D-DUM

BUM-DED-DE-DUM-DID-DE-DUM-DA-DUM

BUM-DE-DI-DUM-DA-DE-DUM-BUM-MI-DID-DUM-BUDDA-DUM-DUMD-D-D-D-D-DUM”

UP ON THE ROOF WHERE THE PARTY HOT

TURNINʻ IT UP ʻTIL WE MAKE IT ROCK

TWO TURN TABLES AND WEʻLL NEVAʻ STOP

UP ON THE ROOF WHERE THE PARTY HOT

TURNINʻ IT UP ʻTIL WE MAKE IT ROCK

TWO TURN TABLES AND WEʻLL NEVAʻ STOP

OOOOOH-OOOOOH-OOOOOOOH-OOOOOOOOOH

WE GONNA SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOP [HEY!]

ʻCAUSE WE WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW

SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOP [HEY!]

IF YOU READY, COME ON, HERE WE GO

SHOUT IT OUT WITH MEEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA

THIS IS HOW ITʻS GOINʻ BEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA-EEE-EEE-EEEA

WE GET IT GOINʻ LIKE, “BUM-DED-DE-DUM-DID-DE-DUM-DA-DUM

BUM-DE-DI-DUM-DA-DE-DUM-BUM-MI-DID-DUM-BUDDA-DUM-DUMD-D-D-D-D-DUM

BUM-DED-DE-DUM-DID-DE-DUM-DA-DUM

BUM-DE-DI-DUM-DA-DE-DUM-BUM-MI-DID-DUM-BUDDA-DUM-DUMD-D-D-D-D-DUM”

- The crowd goes crazy and Rowan looks over to see Fenrys in complete awe, “I have never been so turned on,” he says which warrants a strong punch to the arm -

[A.N.] Start “All Stars” by Martin Solveig and Alma now, follow along, and let your imagination work. Find playlist here.

- Elide opens and Rowan can feel Lorcanʻs beaming pride for his fiance -

Elide: [T-TURN ON]

WE ALL STARS, WE ARE ONE

WE LIGHT UP THE NIGHT LIKE A BLACK SUN

WE ALL SHINE, WE ARE CHROME

AND WE ARE SHIMMERING

TURN ON, TURN ON [T-TURN ON]

- Aelin enters with the bass, and Rowan canʻt help but gawk in admiration, thoroughly impressed and blown away by her. -

Elide: PLAY IT LOUD, WE DONʻT CARE

AND DANCE LIKE THEREʻS NOBODY THERE

LIGHT UP THE NIGHT, YEAH

LIGHT IT UP EVERY NIGHT

ʻCAUSE WE ARE SHIMMERING

TURN ON, TURN ON. [T-TURN ON]

WE ALL STARS, WE ARE ONE

WE LIGHT UP THE NIGHT LIKE A BLACK SUN

WE ALL SHINE, WE ARE CHROME

AND WE ARE SHIMMERING

COME ON, COME ON, YʻALL

- The entire audience jumps in unison with the beat, itʻs a miracle the ship doesn't break and sink by the sheer force of everyones matter bouncing in sync. -

Elide: WE ALL STARS, WE ARE ONE

WE LIGHT UP THE NIGHT LIKE A BLACK SUN

WE ALL SHINE, WE ARE CHROME

AND WE ARE SHIMMERING

TURN ON, TURN ON. [T-TURN ON]

WE KISS AND WE DONʻT TELL

SPIN LIKE A CAROUSEL

DONʻT LIKE IT? GO TO HELL

Manon: THIS IS OUR FAVORITE SONG

Elide: LIGHTS ON EVERYBODY

WE PARTY LEGENDARY

HIGH ON SOUR AND FURY

TURN ON NOW

CALLING ALL STARS, COME ON

- The beat rises in anticipation, preparing the audience to go ape shit. -

Aelin: “Ellywe I better see you fucking dance!”

Elide: CALLING ALL STARS, COME ON

- The crowd did not hold back, including Rowan and The Cadre. Everyone in the audience jumped and danced in a euphoric high, completely enraptured by the Queenʻs Court. -

Elide: WE ALL STARS, WE ARE ONE

CALLING ALL STARS. [STARS]

CALLING ALL STARS, COME ON

WE ALL SHINE, WE ARE CHROME

AND WE ARE SHIMMERING

TURN ON, TURN ON. [T-TURN ON]

CALLING ALL STARS, COME ON

- Their fans go absolutely feral, shouting with pleasure and cheering “Queenʻs Court, Queenʻs Court, Queenʻs Court!” Rowans sole focus takes the heart of the stage again and he canʻt quite explain what his body does in sight of her in her element, and in that green bikini. -

[A.N.] Start “We Found Love” by Rihanna (feat. Calvin Harris) now, follow along, and live in the moment. Find playlist here.

- The music stars and the passengers on deck praise the idols on stage. -

Aelin: YELLOW DIAMONDS IN THE LIGHT

HOW WEʻRE STANDINʻ SIDE BY SIDE

AS YOUR SHADOW CROSSES MINE

WHAT IT TAKES TO COME ALIVE

ITʻS THE WAY IʻM FEELIN

I JUST CANʻT DENY

BUT IʻVE GOTTA LET IT GO

WE FOUND LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE

- The beat rises again and just as the beat is about to drop Aelin screams, “Everybody fucking jump!” and they all obey, dancing together with the music. Rowan catches her attention and shares a quick wink again. She smiles, kisses her hand and blows him a kiss, a kiss he catches, brings to his heart and playfully falls back like heʻs been shot by cupidʻs bow. -

Aelin: SHINE A LIGHT THROUGH AN OPEN DOOR

NOT THE LIFE I WILL DIVIDE

TURN AWAY ʻCAUSE I NEED YOU MORE

FEEL THE HEARTBEAT IN MY MIND

- Aelin plays with her hair and runs her hands over her body, an action that not only excites many in the crowd, but also does not go unnoticed by a silver haired, shirtless man in another band. Her gesture makes Rowan feel dirty, animalistic ways. -

ITʻS THE WAY IʻM FEELIN

I JUST CANʻT DENY

BUT IʻVE GOTTA LET IT GO

WE FOUND LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE

- The world slows around them and for a few brief moments, it is just Aelin and Rowan, eyes locked, souls conversing. -

Aelin: YELLOW DIAMONDS IN THE LIGHT

HOW WEʻRE STANDINʻ SIDE BY SIDE

AS YOUR SHADOW CROSSES MINE

WE FOUND LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE

- The beat builds, the energy growing stronger and wilder, the beat drops and the whole ship bobs with the sheer force of everyones dancing.

Aelin: WE FOUND LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE

WE FOUND LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE

- The audience yell cries of joy. -

[A.N.] Start “Canʻt Remember to Forget You” by Shakira and Rihanna now, follow along, and live it! Find playlist here.

Lysandra: I LEFT A NOTE ON MY BEDPOST

SAID NOT TO REPEAT YESTERDAYʻS MISTAKES

WHAT I TEND TO DO WHEN IT COMES TO YOU

I SEE ONLY THE GOOD, SELECTIVE MEMORY

THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL, YEAH

YOU GOT A HOLD ON ME

I NEVER MET SOMEONE SO DIFFERENT

OH, HERE WE GO

YOUʻRE PART OF ME NOW, YOUʻRE PART OF ME

SO WHERE YOU GO, I FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW

OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH

I CANʻT REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH

I KEEP FORGETTING I SHOULD LET YOU GO

BUT WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

THE ONLY MEMORY IS US KISSING IN THE MOONLIGHT

OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH

I CANʻT REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

Aelin: I GO BACK AGAIN, FALL OFF THE TRAIN

LAND IN HIS BED, REPEAT YESTERDAYʻS MISTAKES

WHAT IʻM TRYING TO SAY, IS NOT TO FORGET

YOU SEE ONLY THE GOOD, SELECTIVE MEMORY

THE WAY HE MAKES ME FEEL LIKE

THE WAY HE MAKES ME FEEL

I NEVER SEEMED TO ACT TO STUPID

OH, HERE WE GO

HE A PART OF ME NOW, HE A PART OF ME

Lyssandra: SO WHERE HE GOES, I [+Aelin] FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW

OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH

Aelin: I CANʻT REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH

Lysandra: I KEEP FORGETTING I SHOULD LET YOU GO

Aelin: BUT WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

THE ONLY MEMORY IS US KISSING IN THE MOONLIGHT

OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH

Lysandra: I CANʻT REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

I ROB AND I KILL TO KEEP HIM WITH ME

I DO ANYTHING FOR THAT BOY

IʻD GIVE MY LAST DIME TO HOLD HIM TONIGHT

IʻD DO ANYTHING FOR THAT BOY

Aelin: I ROB AND I KILL TO KEEP HIM WITH ME

I DO ANYTHING FOR THAT BOY

IʻD GIVE MY LAST DIME TO HOLD HIM TONIGHT

IʻD DO ANYTHING FOR THAT BOY

[OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH]

Aelin: I CANʻT REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

[OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH]

Lysandra: I KEEP FORGETTING I SHOULD LET YOU GO

BUT WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

THE ONLY MEMORY IS US KISSING IN THE MOONLIGHT

[OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH]

I CANʻT REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

Aelin: BUT WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

THE ONLY MEMORY IS US KISSING IN THE MOONLIGHT

[OH-OOH-OH-OH,OH-OOH-OH-OH]

Lysandra: I CANʻT REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

- The crowd cheers and applauds. -

Aelin: “ Thank you so much Ellywe for having us! We are so stoked to be here. This last one is called Vacation, letʻs go out with a bang, WE LOVE YOU, Goodnight!”

[A.N.] Start “Vacation” by G.R.L. now, follow along, and yea you know what to do. Find playlist here.

Aelin: WAS CRYING ALL NIGHT, I SLEPT UNTIL NOON

I JUST WANNA LIE, MY LIVING ROOM

Elide: I KNOW IN MY HEART THAT YOUʻRE NOT THE ONE

SO IʻLL JUST STAY HOME, WATCH VH1

Aelin: MY GIRLFRIENDS KNOW WHAT TO DO

THEY KNOW WHAT TO SAY

[Queenʻs Court : O-OH]

MY GIRLFRIENDS TO THE RESCUE

COME TAKE ME AWAY

Queenʻs Court: IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

IʻM GONNA LEAVE YOU BEHIND

IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

IʻM GONNA LOSE MY MIND

WITH SOMEONE NEW, NEW

WITH SOMEONE

Lysandra: I SIT IN THE FRONT, ROLL DOWN THE WINDOWS

WHEN OUR SONG COMES ON THE RADIO

Manon: I WONʻT FALL APART, I WONʻT SELF-DESTRUCT

NO IʻLL JUST REACH OUT AND TURN IT UP

Aelin: MY GIRLFRIENDS KNOW WHAT TO DO

THEY KNOW WHAT TO SAY

[Queenʻs Court : O-OH]

MY GIRLFRIENDS TO THE RESCUE

COME TAKE ME AWAY

Queenʻs Court: IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

IʻM GONNA LEAVE YOU BEHIND

IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

IʻM GONNA LOSE MY MIND

WITH SOMEONE NEW, NEW

WITH SOMEONE

- the music settles letting everyone reminisce and bask in the energy . -

Aelin: YEAH

LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA.

Manon: [girls letʻs go]

Elide: MY GIRLFRIENDS KNOW WHAT TO DO

THEY KNOW WHAT TO SAY [O-OH]

Lysandra: MY GIRLFRIENDS TO THE RESCUE

COME TAKE ME AWAY

Queenʻs Court: IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

[ Aelin: ʻCAYTION TONIGHT ]

IʻM GONNA LEAVE YOU BEHIND

[ Aelin: YOU BEHIND ]

IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

IʻM GONNA LOSE MY MIND

[ Aelin: IʻM GONNA LOSE MY MIND. TONIGHT. ]

IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

IʻM GONNA LEAVE YOU BEHIND

[ Aelin: LEAVE YOU BEHIND. ]

IʻM ON VACATION TONIGHT

IʻM GONNA LOSE MY MIND

WITH SOMEONE NEW, WITH SOMEONE NEW

WITH SOMEONE NEW, NEW

WITH SOMEONE NEW

- The night closes with loud praises and cheers from the wild audience. -

All Hands on Deck taglist:

@smalltddygothgf @booksbqueen @underworldboxers @live-the-fangirl-life @booknerdproblems @rowaelinismyotp

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