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tenkobitch · 17 days ago

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𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦

Kira (OC) x Shoto Todoroki

Genre: Slow burn, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, tragic backstory, heroes

A/N: 'm slowly getting back into writing. Sorry for the long wait, school and writing blocks really took over my mind.

Word Count: 2.1k (2,109)

Warning(s): Mentions of excessive scratching

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫? 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧...

𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚: 𝐀 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐅𝐎 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐅𝐎'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

~Kira~

I could barely sleep because of how giddy I was to talk to Shoto again. He told me we would have a chance to talk at 11 a.m., but I couldn't calm myself down enough to rest. When I did finally manage to fall asleep, I was very rudely woken up by the only other man in my life that I'd like to sock it to.

Tomura.

I peek over my covers with blurry eyes, only to have an ugly smile meet my sight. I flinch, but I know better than to scream out of surprise. Tomura would misinterpret it like he always does. When he confirms I'm awake, he pulls away my blankets enough for my face to show. With my face uncovered, I now see that Kurogiri is also in the room, hovering in the doorway. I hold back a huge sigh because I know exactly what's going to happen.

“Why are you here?” I deadpan. Tomura laughs as if I made the funniest joke ever.

“Well, aren't you lovely in the mornings!” Before I can question him anymore, he's forcing me out of my bed. My warm, comfortable bed…

“GET YOUR DIRTY CHOPS AWAY FROM ME!” I go limp to hopefully make it harder to push me out the bed, but he's way stronger than he looks. I fall off the bed with a thud. Tomura comes back around the bed and stares at his handy work. He wipes his hands clean like he finished a job well done. I growl in frustration.

“Even when you're mad at me, you're still a sweetheart, aren'tcha?” He gives me his beautifully ugly smile that gives away all he has planned for me. I push myself off the ground and forced myself to stand, despite the throbbing on my whole right side. Kurogiri coughs, returning my attention to his hovering form in my doorway.

“I don't believe we have ample time to fool around any longer, Young Shigaraki. We need to bring Kira now.” I tilt my head.

“Shut up, Portal Man! I just wanted to have a little fun with Kira before we tortured her a little.” Tomura looks at Kurogiri as if his intentions were obvious. My eyes widen, involuntarily giving away my fear. “Oh relax. We're not gonna actually torture you.” He makes his way past his servant, muttering another sentence under his breath.

“It'll probably be torture either way you see it, though.”

With that, Kurogiri beckons me to the main area, not waiting to see me follow. I pause to see the both of them a fair distance away before I scramble to grab Shoto’s – I mean my phone. I slip it into my pants pocket and quickly put on my boots. I follow after the two villains whether I like it or not.

For the most part, I keep myself composed enough to not appear suspicious. I am having a hard time holding myself back from questioning the two men leading me to my doom, but I held on until we got to our destination. Thanks to Shoto, I was able to figure out a lot about how to use my phone. I turned on my location in case he needed it, but I sure hope it doesn't come to that scenario.

We make our way into a beautiful field full of flowers and long grass, get there was nothing else in sight. I turned to my kidnappers and stood tall.

Explain.

Tomura’s skin was littered with goosebumps.

“I forgot you could do that whole mind thing!” Tomura breathed out as Kurogiri prepared to start… whatever was happening here. I walked after him and questioned him more.

Kurogiri!

“Kira.” He continued setting up, not turning around to respond. “All For One has requested I set up a test area to see where you can improve on training.” He used his portals to pass cement blocks and large planks of wood through for the training course. Tomura was gestured to move aside as Kurogiri did this, which made me only a little bit confused. Why was he here if he's just gonna be a sack of nothing.

Kurogiri could read my thoughts, unsurprisingly, because he whipped his head in my direction. I swallowed my laughter, but we both knew what I was thinking. Tomura was now the one confused.

“Whatever kind of sign language you guys got going on is freaking me out.” He walks toward me and flicks my forehead. I yelp, holding my head in pain. “Quit it. I'm the boss here, not you!” I nodded to avoid another flick. But knowing him, he was bound to find an excuse to flick me again. Kurogiri coughed once more.

“You're wondering why you're here, hm? Well, your job is to help me set up the course.” All composure I had jumped through a window because the next thing I did was let my jaw drop.

“I'm… I'm supposed to set up my OWN test course? How does that make sense? Isn't the whole idea of it supposed to be a surprise test?” I shook my head. If Kurogiri made me do this, I'd miss my call with Shoto. And if I missed that call, I don't know when we'd be able to speak again. I'm under the impression that Shoto is a very busy kid, given how much muscle he already has for a 15 year old. But Kurogiri wouldn't let up.

“I simply can't do this all on my own, and I'm under no orders to make Tomura do anything… strenuous.” I think the world officially hates me. Just when things started to look up, I'm hit with THIS.

Well, there's only one thing I can do.

“...”

“SO?”

“Alright, I'll do it!” Kurogiri gave me the same expression he always wore, but I could tell he was pleased.

“You may step into my portal. Let's get to work.”

I wiped the sweat off my forehead as I stared at my work. It was done. My training course was completed. I'm about to ask what the time is before I remember I can create a watch. I use as little energy as possible to make a watch big enough for me to read.

10:55 a.m.

Holy crap. I actually made it before Shoto's call! But, this now poses another problem…

How will I answer his phone call with this numbnut and Kurogiri watching me? Before I can think too much about it, Tomura pats me on the shoulder.

“You did good out there, kiddo. I'm proud of ya.” I shook his hand off me and turned fast enough to scare him a little.

“What is your problem? One day, you're mad at me, and the next, you're acting like we're the best of friends! I haven't even gotten over what you said to me before.” I cross my arms to emphasize my seriousness, but this also gives me an excuse to check the watch on me wrist.

10:56 a.m.

The white haired man – or should I say boy – looks me up and down. He tries to compose himself seriously, but he immediately gives up the act in favor of pouting. Exactly like a little kid. Sighing, he gives me his piece.

“Look, I'm going through a lot, and I've been taking it all out on you. It's just…” His leg bounces up and down anxiously while he begins to scratch his neck with a fingernail. “All this talk about you wanting to leave makes me mad. I know you don't like it here, and I certainly didn't like it either. But you're young, you wanna be rebellious!” He starts to scratch with three fingers, and then his whole hand is involved. It's honestly a little disturbing to watch.

“And instead of putting all the rebellious energy against Sensei, you should put it towards him! You should prove to him that you're willing to do anything to become a villain. If you're gonna fight him on something, let be on how good of a bad citizen you'll be!” His voice goes shrill as he takes off his gloves and continues scratching like he's sharpening his claws. I feel like throwing up. I check the watch.

10:57 a.m.

“Fine.” I sigh, giving up on arguing with him. His scratching stops momentarily as he pats attention to what I have to say next. “I know I've been acting like a real dog lately. And you're right. I should be putting my energy in the right direction.” Tomura's lips twitch upward. I've got him hanging on every word I say. “I guess, what I'm trying to say is,” I grab his arm with his exposed hand, discreetly slipping his gloves back on while he waits for what he wants to hear.

“I'll do better. For you. For my father. For everyone.” His lips curve into a smile; a smile I used to love to see on him. But now, I want nothing more than to smack it off his face.

But instead, I smile back. The watch reads:

10:59 a.m.

“Kurogiri, would you mind portaling me to a bathroom somewhere? I really gotta go.” He shook his head.

“I'm not allowed to let you go. Not to a public bathroom, anyways.” He said in monotone, but I could feel his regret to not let me go. I sighed and pinched my nose dramatically.

“Can I at least go in the woods over here? I don't think I can make another trip back to the base.” Kurogiri looked to Tomura for guidance, not because he couldn't make the decision, but he could see the gears turning in the boy's head. The nineteen year old shrugged.

“We'll hang here and admire your work.” I nodded gratefully as I gave the taller male a side hug. I sprinted to the trees and quickly found a private area. As I squatted behind a giant tree, I checked the watch.

11:00 a.m.

And I could almost hear the phone ringing… if I hadn't turned the sound off. I slipped the phone out and answered it immediately. My deep breaths were all I could hear before Shoto finally broke the tension.

“Are you alone?” I nodded, but then remembered that he couldn't see me. I give a sound of affirmation. “That's good to hear.” He gives me a relieved sigh. I could hear him shifting on his end, probably trying to hide away from sight as well. “I will be quick. I assume you're busy and need away from the phone ASAP, right?”

“Yes, please tell me what you've got.”

“Alright.” A momentary pause. “Here's what I'm going to do…” I held my breath, anticipation ready to stroke me dead if I waited any longer.

“We're going to kidnap you.”

…

“Huh?” Okay, maybe I should've known better to become friends with a stranger that I barely know. “Wait, who's ‘we?’”

Shoto took in a long breath before continuing.

“My sister and I. We're gonna meet at the bookstore just one more time. When you get there in 2 days at 3 p.m., you're gonna wander around for at least 10 minutes. I've hired someone to watch you so your bodyguard gets suspicious. When your bodyguard checks out who's following you, Fuyumi and I are going to take you out.” I blinked. And blinked. I couldn't come up with a response.

“Shoto, I'm sorry, but this seems like a bad idea.” I could hear him let out a huff, but he sounded like he expected my response. “I don't mean to be skeptical, but I don't know how this would work. What if my bodyguard doesn't notice a thing? What if they notice you sneaking me out?”

“Well, good thing I used my old man's credit card to buy that pepper spray.”

…

“Shoto, I might not know you that well, but you have probably lost your mind.”

“I will be completely honest: I don't have any better ideas to get you out as soon as I can. If this does fail, I will have to get the heroes involved because you're probably going to be kept under lock and key after.” I hear more shuffling noises as the dual haired boy lowers his voice. “Can you trust me?” I think for a good second. What if this fails? What will Da Da do after finding out about my attempted kidnapping? Will I be safe? Will the heroes take my father down and save me?

“Yes, Shoto. I can, and I will trust you.”

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

#fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha #angst #slow burn #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #todoroki shouto #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #bnha #bnha fanfiction #oc x character #character x oc

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enruint · 2 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, a curtain of pale grey embraced the two like a lost lover, the droplets much like watery pearls rolling across skin &. soaked clothes ━━━ desperately holding on ( much like them, oh how it was like them ). and from between these strings of dewy pearls, reflected in each and every glassy drop was an expression poets would call pure tragedy, a bittersweet melancholy: love did not exist without pain, only those stories would ever be told. rain drops clung to dark lashes, had long kissed crimson touched locks, clinging to celestial visage. however what peered across the silver waterfall that separated him from taiyou and yet caged them in was blazing gold. how it always flared up with a certain glow when they caught the sight of the slayer. how it longed, how it grieved for the thing that died between them yet continued to dig itself upwards from a grave filled with red camellia's.

for that's what they were: red camellia's ━━━ a devotion, eternal adoration, love but it was doomed to wither but even in that rot would they not be together ? had they not seen each other torn apart, clawed at each other, brought each other to the brink of death numerous times ? they were not lovers. they were enemies. they were destined to be together. they were fated to never be happy. the blood that covered them before, whether inflicted by each other or something else, it was slowly carried away by the water that poured from the dark heavens. a stream of red, pooling around their feet, a crimson river that carried their foolish hopes and harsh realizations. they're inches apart from each other, breathing each other's air, feeling each other's warmth in this cold. mathieu feels taiyou's hands settling upon chest, fingers wrapping around the lapels of his ordum's uniform, watches how azure blue, from behind spun gold, dips down before it raises to meet his gaze.

mathieu barely blinks as if the mere image of @holyscorch would disappear if he'd do so. own arms move forward, guided by something far greater than himself ( was there anything greater than this celestial angel ? taiyou. his love. his ruin ... ) ━━━ gloved hands settle upon the slayer's waist, fingers pressing into clothing and flesh. they were at home there, they always were. head is dipped slightly, tilting to the side, curiously watching taiyou ━━━ and he hears it loud and clear.

❝ i love you. you don't have to say it back. ❞ prompt, accepting

he entertains the thought of heeding their request for what good would it do if he'd even say it back ? it mattered little that mathieu felt the same. he'd betrayed taiyou over and over again, intent to kill him and his family, intent on turning this whole world asunder and shape it in an image he so desired. he'd taken that beating heart and squished it between fingers, crushed it &. allowed the wind to take it away. yet, yet here within the comfort of the cold rain and the street lights glowing dimly in the distance, like faded stars descending to witness a story meant to ever only end in tragedy. lips part to speak, words however don't leave throat, silence permeates the space between them. he won't say it. for taiyou's sake he won't. he only leans forward to press lips harshly together: tasting the rain, the tears taiyou tried to conceal and a longing that tore him open.

could taiyou feel it ? could he hear mathieu whispering that he loved him ? or did he only hear the thunderous beating of his own heart and the equal thumping of the droplets dancing upon the pavement. a rushing river of red and grey. from concrete perhaps flowers could grow but here only those red camellia's would softly bend in the wind, they would bow down &. eventually petals would seek freedom and it would die: but never would it leave it's stem, forever entwined they would be. taiyou and mathieu were red camellia's: eternally cursed souls, to be together in spaces they couldn't be and eventually wither away. he merely presses lips harder against opposite pair, pushes his lover (?)'s body firmly against him and eagerly devours him so. here in the rain, here in this cold embrace he was allowed to say 'i love you' but chose to stay silent instead.

#answered❟ mathieu ✧#verse❟ main: city of end / the golden abode ✧#holyscorch #dyn❟ mathieu &. taiyou / tba ✧#me: oh i am gonna lock in this weekend and get to it!! and look at me now lit sitting down for this #inSANE!!!#whatever braincells i had i used for this and it's for a good cause if i say so myself #every time i think about these two and their journey and how it will NEVER end well i just need to sit down #fucked up people being in fucked up love with each other so true #realizing .... there is actually no dialogue in this. wow JHDKS its fine i like it like this. more impactful #anyway i'll be thinking about this ....

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moistvonlipwig · 7 months ago

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Seeing as you reblogged it again: TV show of your choice for the gen relationships ask game

ok i will do *spins wheel* once upon a time !

My favorite parent-child relationship: Regina & Henry my beloveds.....she loves that kid so much and he loves her back <333 OUAT is literally the story of THEM!!!

My favorite sibling relationship: Okay but [Wish] Hook perpetuating the cycle of abandonment his father started by killing said father and orphaning and abandoning Liam II mere days/weeks before wising up and choosing to stay with baby Alice......Brennan doomed the fuck out of all his sons and then Killian doomed the fuck out of his baby brother because Liam II just wasn't quite enough for him to change. And then Liam II grew up to be just as angry and vengeful as he was. The cycle repeats!!!

My favorite family relationship (other): Regina and Snow's relationship is so incredibly difficult and complex and deep. They know each other better than anyone else does and yet there are parts of each other they still cannot hope to grasp. And there's still so much love there despite everything. I'm obsessed with them.

My favorite friendship between two people: The Wish Hook & Regina friendship that is sprinkled throughout S7 in brief moments and implications haunts my brain. But in terms of friendships that were actually fleshed out in canon, I do enjoy Regina and Emma's relationship despite my problems with Emma as a character. Oh and I also like Regina's friendship with Archie. He's a terrible therapist but he's not a bad friend.

My favorite friendship between a group: Regina and her BFFs the Charmings who are all, to a one, obsessed with her and would kill for her, even though she has tried to kill most of them before on multiple separate occasions. Snow and David and Emma said that's my bestie Regina right there, attempted murder is nothing in the face of our bestieship, and they were so real for that. And you know Baby Neal will almost certainly feel the same. I also really like the S7 squad, I thought that was such a fun oddball group.

My favorite mentorship: The Rumple & Regina relationship and then the Rumple & Alice relationship as a reflection of that relationship are so......like he abused Regina for decades and molded her into a weapon out of spite for his enemy/ex-lover i.e. her mother but he did care about her deep down and she eventually was able to name what he did to her but she still loved him and wanted him to do better but also she still hated him and wanted revenge against him because how could she not. And then years later he stumbles upon the daughter of his other greatest enemy and he almost uses her to free himself of his evil impulses, which she is destined to do so it's basically a fate-approved solution, but he stops himself and says no, that's not fair to her, I need to stop imprisoning teenage girls in metaphorical towers. Like......the layers to that!!!

My favorite rivalry: [Wish] Hook & Rumple spent centuries doing the "recognition of the self through the other (derogatory)" thing and they were so iconic for that, although to be fair they were even more iconic for finally letting it go in favor of "recognition of the self through the other (affectionate)."

My favorite hatred/antipathy: Whatever Snow and Cora had going on was so toxic and complex and full of hate. Juicy as hell. <3

My favorite potential relationship between characters who never talk in canon: Okay I guess Regina & Marian TECHNICALLY talked once before Regina ordered her execution but can you imagine if Marian had actually come back to life through time travel shenanigans instead of it being secretly Zelena all along and she and Regina got to have real conversations and develop a real friendship.......that would be so good. 😔 OUAT S1-6 give a fuck about women of color challenge

#had 2 clarify wish hook because og hook's arc is bad and as a result his relationships are bad. lol #yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere #and it's the story of us

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darkyouthgentlemen · 5 months ago

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arcane's final

Well, well, well... it’s the finale, and I’m not okay. Let’s break it down.

BE AWARE: SPOILERS AHEAD! (and srry for my english)

Ramblings about the last 3 episodes in the chronological order:

Vi seeing Lois as a Wander figure was gut-wrenching (especially considering what is going to happen in the last episode 😢)

Caitlyn’s brutality on Maddi oh ... for a moment I felt bad for her but as turned out, Catelyn's attitude got justified.

Jinx apologizing for C's mom? Meanwhile, Piltover soldiers — and Caitlyn herself — choose blood and felt that means justify the goal. The layers of moral grayness are SO much.

Jayce’s thinking: "Magic = Hextech = Arcane = Doom." Does he think all magic users are destined to destroy the world? And wait—could Mel somehow be tied to Arcane? (I’m spiraling.)

Powder/Jinx is the same across universes: pouring into others cups but never for themselves. Always feeling unworthy. It HURTS.

Silco hallucination: “Walking away” doesn’t HAVE to mean suicide, girl! And the glowing Hextech-blue eye? WHAT IF Silco is more than a hallucination—a ghost, maybe tied to the Arcane underworld? That scene gutted me. Silco comforting Jinx in his own twisted way even from underworld—I NEED TO BELIEVE THIS.

she just kept them there all this time…. Girl don’t close it!!!! you can do so much more

Viktor’s transformation into the Herald: it was terrifying. And overall this transition? From him wanting to create a perfect world, where the whole world being his some creepy doll-house and now he wants to eliminate the whole world.... it escalated pretty quickly (sure your lover not being very accepting of your new life direction and wanting to assasinate you isnt very motivating thing but still Viktor’s journey hauntingly tragic).

Oh and Zahnites’ epic entrance: ICONIC. It felt like there wasn't enough accent given to this moment or it can be my own feelings but still, it would hve been great to see more interactions about it. And Viktor’s entrance? Literal angelic imagery. His design is nightmare fuel in the best way.

Remember when Jinx dreamed of flying in the first episode? she made it evetually. Those days feel peaceful now

Sour Honey Iced Tea: What even was that?! Will it matter in the future? like getting your mind prepared to get wiped out? I NEED ANSWERS.

Ekko’s so much MC and the way writers implemented the time-travel ability was so beautiful. and those 4 seconds mattering so much in the finale.

I love the artists behind this design...

First time deing his eyes with the not-blurred pupil in forever, and he looks utterly shocked. My BABY

“Now all I want is my partner back.” Girl, I’m crying on the floor o(TヘTo).

"Why do you persist after everything Ive done?" his face is just

Victor and the Void: So the Void wasn’t manipulating him? It was all his choice?! or no??? a little confused by this part. But if it really was all Voctors choice the I guess friendship and forgiveness are a real thing that saved him? MY HEART.

Meanwhile, girls are in PTSD spiral. 💔

oh that hurt

Oh, and they DARED. Of course, they gave us another bittersweet trauma-filled father-daughter moment. Thanks for the tears.

Pretty much represents how we all felt at that moment

A season ago, who would have thought

In these series everyone's story gets to be told. You made it Singe,

What is this???

Caitlyn calling Jinx by her name? It’s a turning point for her and for us—an acknowledgment. Girls have a lot of stuff to do

I could keep screaming, but yeah. This finale hit like a freight train. Bittersweet, devastating, and absolutely perfect.... They are not going to leave us without any continuation, right???

#arcane #arcane finale #arcane season 2 #total mental breakdown #some thought's spiraling

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cto10121 · 10 months ago

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R&J Clown Takes Round ♾️ Part 14

Featuring a lot of recycled clownery, some comments on the recent Jamie Lloyd production, which looks to be a mess of clownery as well, and R&J being such a ~~light-hearted comedy. On nom nom

Tag yourself, I’m “a critic second.”

I like how Clown OP had to act like the Chorus’ very flattering and romantic description of R&J was a literal prophecy. 🤣 Like R&J were some Lord of the Rings-esque fantasy novel.

So “star-crossed lovers” have nothing to do with R&J being destined to fall in love. It literally means “crossed by the stars.” As in, the forces of the universe hate their guts and fucked them over. This idea is repeated with the Friar saying that Death is “enamored” with Romeo’s parts (the French musical as always picked up on that brilliantly) and that he and Juliet are “wedded to calamity.”

You said it, Clown OP! Fuck *checks list* Titanic, Casablanca, Pyramus and Thisbe, The Fault in Our Stars, Brokeback Mountain, Moulin Rouge, The Bridges of Madison County, The Notebook, The English Patient, and all of dem cats. No one on this earth has ever or will ever think of these as love stories!!!!

“The families weren’t paying attention—” The Capulets tried to marry Juliet off because she “wept immoderately” for Tybalt’s death. Because she felt sad for the death of her own cousin. Before that they kept Juliet under almost constant supervision, and Juliet herself is called for at least three times.

The only accusation of neglect that may ring true is the Montagues, who are so hands-off they have to get freakin’ Benvolio, their own nephew, to find out about their own son. Even so, they seem much nicer than the Capulets. Lady M died of heartbreak over Romeo’s banishment and even in his madness Romeo made sure to let his parents know via letter of his intentions.

“R&J Is A Comedy!!1!!1” Round ♾️

So this is what happens in the “light-hearted” first half of the play before Mercutio’s and Tybalt’s deaths that these clowns insist is a comedy:

Sampson and Gregory joke about killing and raping Montague women

Tybalt threatens to murder Benvolio and attacks him

The Prince threatens to execute anyone who disturbs the peace again

Romeo talks about how Rosaline has sworn never to have sex and what an awful waste it is that she won’t open her legs to that sweet golden cum 😔

Capulet thinks Juliet is too young for marriage, but Paris cheerfully says that younger girls than she is (13-14) are already “happy mothers” 🤢

Lady Capulet tells Juliet that she was around her age (13-14) when she had Juliet—so that makes it a-OK to get her married!

The Nurse reminisces fondly about the time her husband joked about two-year-old Juliet having sex eventually when she gets smarter. Not older. Smarter. 🤮Oh, and she also casually drops the fact that the Capulets left Juliet with the Nurse and said husband while they were in Mantua doing fuck knows what

Mercutio’s fantastical Queen Mab speech becomes dark really quickly as he talks about raping virgins

Romeo has a presentiment of his untimely demise…which eventually comes true

Juliet worries that their love will be “like lightning”—here and gone before you know it

The Nurse believes Paris is hotter/better than Romeo for Juliet, which makes Juliet mad, foreshadowing their rupture

The Friar gives a dark warning in his famous “These violent delights” speech about the longevity of too-swift love

I think it’s obvious that there are attempts by Shakespeare to 1) satirize the feud and violent Veronian society and its gender roles and 2) foreshadow Romeo and Juliet’s death and set up the tragedy re: the Nurse’s betrayal of Juliet.

Just because a tragedy isn’t all doom and woe for 2 hours doesn’t mean it isn’t a tragedy. There is the danger, yes, of a production being 100% intense 100% of time; the dark comedy/satire is very much necessary from a thematic standpoint. I reckon that was the fault of this Jamie Lloyd one. But I read this shit when I was 10 and Mercutio’s and Tybalt’s deaths didn’t surprise me at ALL. It was an “oh shit” moment, sure. But I definitely understood why it occurred and I was not surprised. A good R&J production should have that same feeling.

#romeo and juliet #rj clown takes #r&j clown takes #the comedy thing is so increasingly ridiculous #the foreshadowing is not subtle #and verona is painted like such a clusterfuck #mercutio increasingly gained red shirt tendencies as the play went on

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gellavonhamster · 2 years ago

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reading the post-vulgate, part 1 (the merlin continuation)

"The eldest was called Gawain, the second Gaheriet, the third Agravain, and the fourth Guerrehet" no fucking way they're in a different order again. When will it end

if Merlin knows everything that will happen, why does he go on about how he won't tell Arthur who the knight destined to destroy the kingdom is because he doesn't want to kill a child? A lot more children are going to die because this bitch is refusing to be specific

finally Yvain is Morgan's son again, this was Bothering me

Mordred hit his head as an infant so hard that the scar remained for all his life. This is potential for his brothers making jokes in the vein of "and that's why he is like that" later

in this version, the father of Sagremor the Unruly is also called the Unruly, making it their surname, I guess, which is funny, even though at a later point in Chapter 59 the narrator changes his mind and says that it was Kay who gave Sagremor this nickname

big fan of the fact that Mordred and Sagremor are raised together - there's something cute about a doomed-by-the-narrative goth and a reckless fun guy being childhood friends. And then one of them kills the other :)))

oh, the May babies are rescued in this one! Nice

brief glimpses of some fairy drama as the lady who was girded with the sword that Balin could remove "owed allegiance to the lady called the Lady of the Isle of Avalon" and the one that wanted her killed for killing her father was the one that helped Arthur take Excalibur from the hand in the lake

"In this place will meet in battle the two most faithful lovers of their time" sounds like Lancelot and Tristan will be each other's lovers and the battle in question will be their meet-cute

"For [King Lot] is the one in my land in whom I would have trusted most in great need, and for whom I would have done most" buddy, you slept with his wife.

Gawain is eleven years old when he swears to kill Pellinor for killing his father! And the adults at the funeral praise him for such noble intentions! God!!!

yesss this version supports my headcanon that Yvain's animal-befriending powers are a result of Morgan experimenting with various magic while she was pregnant with him

seriously, would everything that eventually happens had ever happened if Merlin wasn't walking around telling people "you will kill him, and you will kill him, and one of these two boys you're raising will kill the other", thus making everyone think it's inevitable?

you know what would've made reading this easier and more enjoyable? If I cared about Balin

according to this one, there should be 150 Knights of the Round Table

I like that Guinevere is being referred to as "valiant"

"for no adventure that may happen, unless mortal peril is to come of it, may a knight who is sitting at table stir before he has eaten" is a good custom, more contemporary jobs should follow it

Tor's mom is great (loved it when she rebuked Merlin and everyone laughed) and I can't wait for Gawain to kill Pellinor

Kay being described as "a good enough knight, but not as good as the others" lmao

my brain refuses to perceive young Bademagu. This is a middle-aged man with (at least?) two adult children

“Now come forward and see a king’s daughter wield a sword” is one hell of a line

yelling @ the maiden/mother/crone ladies making fun of Gawain being short

I imagine Gaheris here speaking in a very patient voice that simultaneously verges on hysterics because he's so fucking exasperated

I thought this text might change my opinion on Gaheris for the better, but then the matricide part came, with "But it was his opinion that the lady should be blamed and humiliated" and "Then he put his hand on his sword and wished to kill his mother, but he would leave the knight, because he seemed too handsome and valiant, and he was disarmed", and nope, still hate that guy

like what the fuck is WRONG with you!!!

oh I am seething right now

"for they were tired, although they had not yet done anything" meeee

#gella talks arthuriana #talk talk talk #arthurian legends #arthuriana #merlin #yvain #morgan le fay #mordred #sagramore the desirous #gawain #gaheris

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justyouraverageweird · 9 months ago

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star-crossed

précis: tragic lesbians let’s goooo

a word to the wise: doomed yuri :( (you asked for it lol)

letterbox: write doomed yuri (@cult-of-yuri)

yet another attempt with the same outcome, weaved by the strings of fate. just like before, with all the other times she tried to tear that destined tapestry. that didn't change the fact that the wounds bled just as much.

or,

women kiss kiss fall in love and it’s happy and sappy and honestly kinda cringe but they’re sooo cute together that people decide to just smile and nod and scream internally about how they’ll never have a love life like these two

golly I sure hope nothing bad happens to them

oh no oh dear

whaaaaaaaat???

A hand reached out and grazed her cheek, like many times before.

By second nature, she put her own hand against silken skin and leaned further into the warmth it provided, staring at her beloved.

Indeed, it was not a groundbreaking revelation or a once-in-a-lifetime event. Nonetheless, it never failed to rekindle something within the young girl, bringing her into an almost feverish stupor and flooding her heart with a sudden torrent of emotions.

A rush of nervousness. A dose of adrenaline. A whisper of doubt. A glimmer of hope.

Apprehension. Euphoria. Uncertainty. Reverence.

Love.

Alas, it seemed the only emotion that currently permeated through her core was terror.

"Don't do this to me," she exclaimed urged begged.

"Don't you dare. Don't—Just—" A traitorous sob came out of her lips. "Please, you can't leave me. Not again."

Oh, how cruel was her dearest.

How cruel was she for possessing her entirety, consuming all her will and thought, only to don melancholic eyes and a feeble smile whilst seizing her heart and wrenching it taut and aching and bleeding, without hesitation or reluctance, just flowing and seeping through—

Her lover's shirt, even as she practically submerged her other palm with that grotesque red in her efforts to apply pressure and bandage with what she had, the wound refused to stop bleeding—

She almost didn't catch it, but in all honesty there would never be a world where she dared not stop and listen to the sound of her dear's voice. It was a melodious timbre of sunlight, birdsong, and everything in between. Now however, that heavenly voice seemed adamant on spewing out the most vexing things.

"Stop it," the heavens murmured. "You have to leave—"

"No," The devotee snarled.

"They're still after us—"

"We'll deal with them later. You're the main priority right now—"

"HOMURA!"

Homura stopped.

That was the first time Madoka ever raised her voice at her.

"Please...I don't want this anymore. I don't—I don't want to see you suffer anymore in vain."

A rueful laugh sputtered out from Homura's mouth. "Then what shall you have me do?"

"...Stay.

That's all l...ask..."

Her darling's rosy eyes filled with tears. Instinctively the dark-haired girl went to wipe them away, but she found her unblemished hand intertwined with another. She looked away, blinking back tears, and yet Madoka's hand turned her head and so she was caught in her lover's gaze again.

It must have been mere seconds. Minutes…felt like centuries. She did not know. The passage of time held no worth for her, fruitless as it was.

But she knew that even eternity would not be enough, for it was all too quick and all too soon.

Warmth left the hand that graced her form.

Like a leaf straying from the branch, like rain descending from the skies... the hand fell to the ground, and with it all reason to live.

The goddess had forsaken her acolyte.

No.

She knew better than that.

The acolyte had failed her goddess. And by due punishment, the disciple shall never be graced by her deity's presence again in this lifetime.

She no longer adhered to religion. And yet, she cast her eyes above and cursed out whoever would listen, for what was perfection and divine incarnate was taken from her once again.

"Have I not done enough?" The girl demanded. "Have I not given enough? WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"

She screamed and shouted and cried out until all was left of her was a husk, an empty shell, and even then.

The gods did not answer.

Well.

The girl's eyes narrowed and her heart hardened to stone. As solemn as one would in a ceremony, in sacred rituals and sanctimonious matrimony...Homura pressed a kiss to her love's forehead and gently closed Madoka's eyes.

There would be time for mourning. There would be time for a proper send-off. But now...

The echo of footsteps emerged from behind. Unsurprised, she turned her head to the herald of girls marching their way.

The so-called heroes that failed them.

And so, just like many times before, the faithful devotee did everything to reach for her goddess against all odds, no matter the cost.

And so the cycle begins once more.

#tara fanfic #thank you for the request!#anyways this was supposed to be a crack fic #it wasn’t even supposed to be a fanfic #just a funny dumb excerpt for lols #then BOOM #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica #madoka #homura #madoka x homura #angst #doomed yuri #i have no idea what happened but it’s hours in and i—#just to be clear i have never watched pmmm hahhahah i tried.

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dangermousie · 2 years ago

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OK, continuing...

I confess I cried at the two old people who were killed, the way they still wanted to be reborn together and the way she wanted to be born to be able to talk and he to be a wealthy farmer but the other person was all “no you are perfect the way you are.” My heart.

And this is how NGM finds them, all frozen together. His face. NGM is such a good actor!

At the burial, he says this:

But he is clearly a person who says pragmatic things and hides his heart but he shows his care through actions - because he does not give two hoots about the king and abstractions of duty but he will avenge the old man he liked. He is neither cowardly nor selfish; he just does subscribe to their society’s ideas of what matters.

Meanwhile we see GC undergo her own trial by fire and she is SO amazing. She is the one who takes charge, she is the one who buries their traces, she is the one who delivers the baby after SFL faints from the blood. Just as ML, there is a streak of survival practicality and toughness in her a mile wide. But she is still so young and her horror as she has to steal a dead person’s clothes to keep the baby warm. She will not break but she hurts, oh she hurts.

And then SFL gets attacked and GC kills the would be rapist. God. But what strikes me is SFL worried that even though she is “pure” people would not believe her. That societal principle has added another layer of horror to the women - not just the horror of rape, but the horror of accusation of same even, of no life afterwards.

I love GC - because despite all their petty rivalry over SML, when it counts she is so THERE.

This is a mantra for her, isn’t it? As if she can make it true through sheer force of will.

And the way they trudge through the mountains, starving, with GC carrying the woman who just delivered on her back. The way this drama hammers how suddenly it all changed.

The scene of NGM charging that unit with captives, to avenge the old man. I love how deadly he is, but also the sheer insanity it would take for him to just to go, at a dead run, towards a whole unit of soldiers. Good Lord. (And once again, he is the only one we see actually doing something useful with his sword - not doomed charge to rescue a figurehead, but actually not just vengeance but also freeing the captives.)

Poor GC at the end of her rope, dreaming of a man she is destined to be with, because she wants someone, anyone to come back to take care of her.

When she sighs that she is so tired. My heart! She is so young. And then she wakes up and sees a man walking up to her but this is not a dream lover but yet another monster intent on murder and rape. And I went the way she shifts from dreamy eyed to hard.

And she gets out that dagger NGM gave her (I love that it’s been so useful - to cut the umbilical cord, to fight etc) but of course she and the other women are overwhelmed by the men and no matter how hard she fights it seems futile until...

I love his surprise but also yes, in this time forget love (tho it’s clearly there), you need a man who is competent to save you.

I died at the way she warns him a man is coming for his head!

I have swooned into paradise at how he asks her after he kills the guy.

She worried about him!!!!

The fact that he can tease and take delight in and pounce on this under these insane circumstances - this man is a keeper (and a hardened fighter unlike the scholars.)

The preview for 5 has slain me. I need it noooow!

OK, this is My Dearest ep 4 post that I am going to reblog so as to add caps and get around cap limit. Man, new tumblr sucks but proper post coming shortly.

#kdrama #my dearest #ahn eun jin #nam goong min

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timmymyluv · 3 years ago

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yoyoo can u write something about timmy and the reader doing that wired autocomplete video and they’re secretly dating thanks hehe

ofc!! so sorry this took so long but i wanted to really write it when it felt right and i could do it justice <33 hope u like it

i imagined timmy and reader would star in a film ver of the (let others wage war) series not exactly but the historical couple it was based on with a happy ending yk so please enjoy!

“Hey guys, I’m Timothee Chalamet.”

“”And I’m (Y/N) (L/N) - and this is our Wired autocomplete video.”

“(Y/N) and I will be answering questions that you have been searching about us on the internet.”

Sitting next to him in identical folding chairs, you were both dressed more semi-casual than you did at the beginning of your promotional tour for your new movie.

A period piece about doomed royal lovers, and the second chance they were given for their happy ending - true or not, it was an instant hit not only among niche filmgoers but the general public got word of the Oscar buzz that surrounded your movie.

Playing the young Dowager Tsarina Maria Feodorovna, mother of the doomed, tragic Tsar Nicholas II whose family perished under Bolshevik imprisonment. Exploring her rags to riches youth, from an impoverished fourth daughter of a cadet, untitled and penniless soldier prince to daughter of the King of Denmark.

Timothee played your handsome, sensitive and intelligent young prince and heir to the throne - Tsesarevich Nicholas Alexandrovich, successor to the Imperial Russian throne. His character fell in love with your character from a portrait before meeting her, head over heels as your character reciprocated that before his untimely death months before the wedding could occur.

As the older Tsarina reminisced on his death anniversary fondly long after his death, your character wakes up back in her youth, unmarried and hours before the arrival of the Russian royal family to visit the Danish royal court.

Most of moviegoers were familiar with your character as the grandma of the infamous Anastasia, mythically believed to have survived the assault on her family, so they were impressed and thoroughly interested in this deep dive of an unfamiliar side of her youth, destined with thrills, intrigue, gorgeous gowns, balls, romance and unspeakable wealth and opulence.

Mere days before the announcement of next year’s Oscar nominations, the film and your respective PR teams amped up your promotions under the public eye to really campaign that both of you would helm the film’s nominations, as murmurs erupted around film critics that all four acting categories from your film would be top runners for the season.

Your characters were clearly the heart of the film, heavily building up your chemistry with him that was evident even from the first chemistry test. If only they knew, you both started dating shortly after rehearsals concluded and you were well into filming.

“Does Timothee Chalamet __” You pick up a board underneath your chair, craning your neck to read it before peeling off the first search terms’ sticker.

“Does Timothee Chalamet read - god I hope so.” Timmy reads from the board, mocking how offended he was and you couldn’t help but giggle along with him.

“Well if you watched the film, he sure had to read a lot to know the long lines he had for the character.” You try to defend him with a joking tone.

“Alright next up, Does Timothee Chalamet write songs - Yes I’ve tried writing songs before without too much success clearly, which is why I’m here.” He comments snarkily, shrugging his shoulders.

“I really like Statistics and oh oh- Hell’s Kitchen is so underrated. Please listen to his soundcloud -hey!” Excitedly jumping up on your seat, he dives in trying to yank the board off your arms and puts his palm over your mouth so you’d stop talking, to no avail.

“Hey- stop that! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Timmy can’t help but giggle at how fond he is of you and how you aren’t really making fun of him, but trying to hype him up about a time he doesn’t want to remember.

“ What does Timothee Chalamet do? That’s a great question. I wonder the same thing.” You banter with him playfully as he looks at you incredulously with a quirked eyebrow.

“We clearly play dress up and dance - And pretend to fall in love.” He speaks nonchalantly, though you don’t miss the pronounced intonation on ‘pretend’ that you’re sure won’t be noticed by anyone, other than the shippers vigilantly watching both your every move.

“He keeps stepping on my feet, on purpose, during the waltz scenes. It was better than the rehearsals at least, but I had lots of fun with this guy. Couldn’t have a better Nixa to my Minnie.” You get all sentimental, brushing your knees against his as the crew members coo in penchant for you two.

Sharing a knowing look, you both break out into laughter, knowing you’ve both made plans towards moving in an apartment together and adopt a dog or cat soon, but for now it was your little secret. The private world only you two existed, and an oath unknown to the public eye.

You didn’t want to wave around your relationship to get in the way of work, and draw the boundaries between your personal and work lives. Yet when you kiss him on the lips passionately as the crowds cheered when you were announced Best Actress, the internet went crazy with the revelation.

Maybe they knew, maybe they had an inclination - but at least you had the first year all to yourselves, sans your immediate friends and family. Both coming home with golden statues that night, you couldn’t ask for more.

Your characters were tragically separated by sickness, and had their chance in being happily in love together. Your film indulges in an utopian timeline where everything went as planned, and the audiences loved it. So - maybe life imitates art?

#timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet scenarios #timothee chalamet #requests

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suna-reversed · 4 years ago

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Sukuna Ryomen x reader

the VI acts of falling in love with a curse

tags/warnings- mentions of blood and violence, major character death!, reincarnation, suggestive themes but no smut, historical AU, soulmate AU

you can consider this an AU fic for “in your arms tonight”

quotes taken from Anne Carson, Natalie Wee, Nikka Ursula, Richard Siken, Madeline Miller

i. the beginning

“it’s rotten work”

“not to me. not if it’s you”

“you are a fool.” his laugh is bitter and dry.

“and you are my salvation.” you whisper.

the facade of mockery on his face fades, all that remains is the destruction, like the ruins of a town plagued with war, still burning with the impending threat of the actual doom that is to come.

“you do not know what you are asking for, it may-” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “...it will- destroy you.”

“destruction is all that I’m familiar with.”

and that is all he feels in his chest, the exploding of dynamites and landing of missiles as the wall he’s built around him comes crashing down with one simple gesture.

he cannot help but move his lips against hers.

ii. the unbecoming

“like any unloved thing, I don't know if I'm real when I'm not being touched”

sobs rake through your body, as you cling onto the white fabric he always wears with all your life. he brings his hand up to caress your cheek but you flinch. his eyes darken with a look of maddening vexation.

he tries again- and this time, you ease into his touch. his heart clenches as you look up at him, fear in your eyes, the sight of the bruises littered across your cheek making him clench his fist. he brings his lips to the top of your head, gently mumbling,

“who did this to you?”

you say the name and he is already halfway apart from you, ready to annihilate the one who caused his petal such harm. but there’s a tugging force on his sleeve, catching his attention. all the ire in his mind fades away as you crawl over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle,

“please-” you sniff, fiddling with the cloth clenched in between your fingers,

“just hold me.”

he almost laughs at how she thought that he could ever deny her.

iii. the spring

I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

“what are you doing?” your small giggle echoes late into the empty forest.

the side of his lips simply twitch up as he continues his ministrations, hands expertly wringing through your hair as he presses down kisses against the nape of your neck every now and then.

you relax back into his chest, looking over the view that the hill you sat on top provided you with. you know you have to leave before anyone finds out, but you can’t help but savour all the time you can get.

you both walk down together, his large hand encasing yours, rubbing circles onto your ring finger and you feel your face heating up. you catch your reflection in the pond and a gleeful laugh escapes you as you throws your hands around his neck. and perhaps love like this is unheard of, but it is love nonetheless.

he cannot help but feel his heart flutter as he sees her keep the flowers he braided into her hair throughout the day.

iv. the ruination

“sorry about the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine.”

“i-i’m so sorry- i tried to stop it.” he feels a wet trail of drops falling onto his neck, but he cannot tell if they’re from your tears or from the scarlet pouring through his mouth.

how did it come to this? the mortals who ravaged him were long gone. he knew he’d make them suffer until their last breath. but oh- why was his petal there? why did you try to fight against them only once they had already half battered him to death?

his head stayed lolled against your lap, eyes burning, the stench of blood thick in the air. the sky was all shades of lilac and alliums- was the sweet scent in the air from the flower bed his hollow corpse lay on or from the daisies in the hair of his precious dove?

he never thought love and betrayal would feel the same.

v. the rebirth

“this is the way the world ends / this is the way the world ends / this is the way the world ends / not with a bang but a whimper.”

your eyes are wide, face bewildered, but you remain quite as he tugs you out from the doorway of your husband’s house and through the forest- towards the top of the hill.

the light in your eyes seems to have burned out- your energy drained from the struggle and fight you had to put up with in the last few days- or has it been months? the ghost of your lover coming to wake you in the middle of the night feels like an act of liberation.

he does not fail to notice this. and oh does he make sure you know that he’s alive in flesh and bone as you’re splayed out across the green blades, his body above yours as he makes you see stars but it’s not the ones in the night sky.

your sweat drenched foreheads are pressed together and you’re smiling against his lips but tears continue to fall down your cheeks. he pretends to not notice how you don’t wrap your arms around him when you leave or how you simply stare through him as he tells you he’ll get you out of here.

he cannot help but laugh as he finds your body floating in the river the next day, laugh as he holds you to his chest, laugh as he braids the flowers out of your hair and tucks them into the vial he wears, and laugh as he walks away from the ruins of the village aflame.

if he was destined to bring ruination, he may as well rain his wrath upon all.

vi. the end.

“I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell. I would know him blind, by the way his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

his chest is hollow but his heart still stops as his eyes meet hers.

it is centuries apart and he barely feels the jerk of his opponent throwing him against the pavement, barely feels the knife slit through his throat. he’s laughing and he cannot stop.

fate has once again decided to play a sick joke on him. he is well aware of it as he rips off the arm of the man trying to make him bleed. is he naive enough to not know that gods don’t bleed?

she is talking to the vessel he encapsulates and it’s your face and your voice and yet, it’s a stranger altogether. there’s an unfamiliar familiarity in her eyes as he reveals himself but she doesn’t know him- so she stumbles back in surprise and he thinks this is where it ends.

but then she’s smiling, a smile as warm as the sun, and he know he’d do it all over again- he’d ruin himself a million times over for her, even in another lifetime.

Sukuna cannot help how his lips curve upwards as she tilts her head, eyes filled with curiosity and fascination as she says,

“so you’re the one yuuji’s been telling me about.”

Taglist- @bakugohoex @tsuki-kusa @laura-marie-16 @captainmads2092 @notpmaosan @madamlindsay @jotazinha @osmosly @p-each-y-day @mikiminaccch @lilshortcakess @saturnmoon @mahitochan @menaintshit23 @half-baked-biscuit

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna x you #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna ryomen #sukuna drabble #sukuna headcanons #toji smut

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alldayangst · 4 years ago

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love someone for loving you (Peter Parker)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Soulmate and uni AU.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x reader, Brad Davis x reader (for like, a second)

Warnings: Makeout sessions. Characters drink but they’re of age to do so in this fic. Peter says ACAB and if you disagree with that & can’t have a mature convo about it, then this isn’t the blog for you. This fic isn’t all the way accurate to the MCU timeline. Harry [Osborn] and MJ live in Queens. Betty, Flash, Ned, Brad, Peter and reader all attend NYU in Brooklyn.

Thank you for reading if you make it all the way to the end! Word count: 4.2K words.

Happy reading!

“You’re so fucking hot, y’know that?” You were making out with Brad in your dorm room, with the lights off. Brad was a nice enough guy. Had taken you out on a few dates. Told you your hair was pretty. Said he’d like to get to know you more. But you’re not as eager to take things further because something in your heart just knows he’s not your soulmate. And you’d like to wait a little while for the novelty to wear off before you did something you regretted and entered a relationship you’d known was doomed from the start. “So fucking hot.” Brad kissed along your neck, big sloppy wet ones that left saliva trails from his lips to your neck.

You didn’t like that kind.

And that was another reason you knew you and Brad weren’t destined, because your soulmate would just know what you like, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

It’s then that Brad tries to take your jumper off, but your soulmate tattoo is on your ribcage, and in this world, letting someone see your soulmate tattoo is probably makes you more vulnerable than getting naked in front of them. You try to pull your jumper down, but Brad doesn’t get the hint and tries again. You place your hands on his chest. “Not today, Brad.”

You don’t see Brad again. And maybe Brad was your soulmate because he led you to Peter. But Peter definitely wasn’t your soulmate, and I’ll tell you why you know that.

“Y/N!” Betty waved as you stumbled back into the party, shoes placed on improperly and no part of you subtle to what you’d been doing with Brad in your room just a few minutes ago. “Not you out of your room so early!” Your room door slammed behind you as Brad left your room, jacket in hand.

“Didn’t get any?” Betty made a fake pout at you, smoke breezing past her face as you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as you found yourself in a circle with two of Betty’s friends she’d had yet to introduce you to. Sometimes, you wished Betty was your soulmate, but Betty made it clear before you signed the lease that you weren’t her type and truly, you couldn’t see yourself being anything more than friends. And you were the best of friends. Meaning she’d always be the first to comment heart eyes under your pictures and tell you to get that outfit because your booty was doing the thang in that pair of trousers.

Things would just be easier, if they were easy.

But things weren’t handed on a silver plate for you like they were for others; where they’d been friends with their soulmates since childhood, or lived up the street from them or their soulmate saved their life or something else blindly obvious. And, desperate to find the gold in the treasure chest, you moved upstate to school at NYU. Because great minds and all that. You stood in perfect silence for a minute, chaos never ceasing to happen around you, before Betty decided to make the strangers next to her strangers no more. One shook your hand and said, “I’m Ned.” Oh. So this is who Betty had been raving about? Betty grimaced and placed her hands together to plead with you not to expose her consuming infatuation with her new boyfriend. In a bid to divert the focus, Betty patted the back of the slightly taller one next to Ned, with wispy brown hair and eyes like fresh, raw cocoa. “I’m Peter, nice to meet you.” He shook your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You sway your attention back to Ned with a smirk on your face, Betty clutching her solo cup a little too hard, her inner monologue begging you to knock it off. You knew Betty was going to get you back for this, but you needed somewhere else to fixate your gaze since you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to ogle at Peter. With Brad’s saliva on your neck and having only known him for all of twenty seconds, you weren’t sure if Peter would take to any romantic advances. You weren’t even sure if he’d met his soulmate. “So, I’ve heard a lot about you, Ned.”

“All good I hope.” Ned replies and the room glints with his boyish grin.

“Well-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and it was probably for the better. Betty grabbed Ned’s arm, vodka making tiny puddles on the floor, with a huge fake smile plastered on her face. In turn, that only gave you a great, genuine smile, loving to tease your friend. “Baby! We should go to another side of the party!”

“What about Peter?” Ned’s voice was getting lost in the jungle of party goers. “Peter can come.” Peter turned to go follow his friend, but not before mumbling a low, “See you around, Y/N.”, snaking his arms around your back, pulling you in for a quick hug. “See you around, Peter.”

He didn’t reply. Peter could only give you a thin lipped smile, packaged with a lazy half-nod before he was absorbed by the population around him, just as his friend was. And you cursed yourself that night for not taking your chances and saying more.

History was an 8am class, your only class in the morning. You woke with a a dull ache in your head and a dark mark on your neck that lasted longer than your relationship with the guy that gave it to you. The last thing you wanted was to run into Brad. But destiny offered you the next best thing.

“Oh. Hi, Flash.” You attempted to cover your face with your copy of Romeo & Juliet - if your soulmate was here, the last person you wanted them to see you with was Flash Thompson. Flash was walking backwards as you were walking forwards, unamused by his efforts to corner you. “Can we talk, Y/N?” Flash was Brad’s best friend, so you knew you were in for trouble.

“Can’t Brad speak to me himself? His mouth was working last night.”

“I can see that Y/N. Nice hickey.” You cringed, and Flash could tell he was running out of time to bemuse you. “Brad doesn’t want to bother you if you’re not interested-”

“Oh, so you decide to bother me instead.” You remark, and hop over a couple of steps so Flash had to awkwardly speed up.

“I just wanted to ask where you and him stood. Like, are you breaking up with him? I thought you had a pretty good thing going on.” His pace started to slow again as you slowly ascended up some of the last sets of steps. “I mean, seriously Y/N? What if you guys were soulmates? I wouldn’t wanna give up so easily.”

“That’s true.” You looked down at your sneakers. You hated this version of the world you lived in. Everything was driven by concepts, whether it be the concept of soulmates or the concept of time that left your campus filled with students five years older than they really were, or the concept of good and evil that spawned superheroes who you weren’t sure did more damage to the world than they gave back.

Overall, the concept of fate was once you had to always wrestle with. And you thought that maybe yours was standing at the top of the steps to rescue you from this conversation, ready to make Brad feel the trip of the guilt he and his friend tried to make you feel for not feeling the same way. “Y/N! We have class, c’mon!” Peter waved his goggles at the top of the steps, a knowing smile on his face as Flash looked up at him and glared.

Peter just had to steal his thunder on a sunny day.

You ran to meet Peter at the top of the steps. “Thank you for bailing me out. You’re a hero.”

Peter was startled. “Who, what, when, where, me?” He scratched the back of his neck and gave you an uncomfortable, stammered loop of laughter. “Hero? Not me. I’m just good ol’ Peter.”

You chuckled as you breathed out another ‘thank you’ and returned the hug Peter had left un-exchanged last night. “I’m guessing you have bio?”

“Guilty as charged. So what’s your major?”

“English Lit.”

“Oo, how long are you planning to work at Starbucks?” Peter remarked as he held to the main door open for you. “Peter?” He hummed in response. “Fuck you.”

You sat next to Betty in History, the professor droning on about something that made you question why you continued to take History, but as your best friend snatched your book from you, you were reminded. “Star crossed lovers, eh?” Betty skimmed through the fights and the love scenes that all culminated to the uncertainty whether Romeo and Juliet were even supposed to be together.

“Seems like you and Ned these days, huh.” You couldn’t believe that it had taken Betty three months to allow you to meet Ned, nevermind his cute friend. Ever since the ‘boyfriend’ label had been slapped on their little love affair a month and a half ago, you were beginning to see less and less of your best friend. It felt like two people paying for a single household, and with your lease ending in a short time, you worried Betty would almost evaporate from your life completely.

“Almost.” Betty tried to keep it hush, sheepishly grinning, but gave in completely in record time. “We said we’re gonna show each other our tattoos tonight!” She squealed, another student shushing her from the row above.

“Woah, that’s big!” It genuinely felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You realised you’d never gotten as far as Ned and Betty without either you or you partner showing your soulmate tattoo; and when they were never the same, you broke it off. “What if they’re not the same?”

“They will be.” Betty smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

Two loners getting together was never a recipe for success. Betty had given over your number to Ned, who handed it over to Peter, who’d texted you asking for you to come over: ‘wanna make it up to me for this morning at the steps? my bestie is with your bestie, so u wanna get pizza? do you like pineapple?’

Sure enough, you were over at Ned & Peter’s within ten minutes, Peter swinging the door open dressed in a tight red and blue top, a hoodie sparsely covering it, with an overexcited greeting of “Mi casa es su casa!”

The energy wasn’t returned. Not just yet. You had to be sure of something first. “Don’t tell me that there’s an American flag top under that hoodie.” Peter looks down at his Spidey suit which he’d completely forgotten he had on between scaling the ceiling in anxious anticipation of your text back. “Having such a boner for the USA is kind of a turn off.”

Peter started cussing under his breath and quickly turned to zip his hoodie all the way up. When he turns back to you, it’s word vomit. “I’m not saying I don’t love this country, I mean, I love Queens. I mean-”

You raise your eyebrows, curious to see where Peter would go with this. “The NYPD fucking hates me,”

“And what would they want with your little ass?” You walk into the apartment. He’d never admit it, but Peter kind of likes the way you bust his balls. It puts him on the spot, makes him want to tell the truth to you about who he really is.

“I mean, I can’t really say-”

“OK. I don’t wanna be an accessory to anything so,” You laugh. “I won’t push. ACAB.” There’s a thud that follows you closing the door.

“I agree. ACAB.”

A few hours pass with Peter and he’s beginning to unravel. He shows you the photos he’s taken over the years, several of them featuring a fair haired boy you’d never seen around campus before. “Is he your soulmate?”

Peter nearly chokes on the coffee he’d prepared for himself. “No. Harry? In his dreams.” He sets his mug down. “No, uh, that’s my friend. He lives back home in Queens.”

“You say back home like Queens isn’t a 10 minute drive from where we are.”

“Yeah. But it’s not right here.” You weren’t sure if you’d bruised Peter’s feelings, so you move onto another photo. There’s a polaroid that makes a thin pile with another on the table.

It’s the New York City skyline, from all the way up.

“How’d you get a photo from all the way up here?” Peter grabs the photo underneath it, but not before you catch a glimpse. The glossy paper is adorned with an image of a beautiful girl, black necklace around her neck, the scribbles underneath her photo reading ‘MJ, Pre-blip’.

You think this girl is too gorgeous to just be a friend.

But judging by the way Peter reacted when you suggested Harry was the same, you kept quiet. He didn’t want you to see it anyway.

“I’m really sticky and I climb up walls.” Peter being Peter is relieved he told you the truth, even if you didn’t know it.

“You’re weird, kid.” You thought you were being smooth, but you couldn’t help the way you look at his lips like they hold the answer to every question you’d had in your life.

“Uh-huh. But you like a bit of weird. Maybe Brad was too square for you.”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

And then when you and Peter kiss, you suddenly understand what poets mean when they call your lips jigsaw puzzles, because yours and Peter’s slot perfectly together. And you get why there’s all these love songs on the radio, and you feel the Earth shift in your mind and you just know this is the unmistakeable indicator that Peter is your soulmate. Another reason you and Peter are destined, when he goes to kiss your neck, it’s like soft little hot touches.

You liked that kind.

And a soulmate would just know that, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

Peter rests his forehead on your own, lips swollen. “I don’t want to go anywhere, don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You and Peter cuddle for the rest of the night on his sofa, Ned and Betty doing the same on yours. And the novelty picks back up like clockwork.

“Peter? What if we aren’t soulmates?” you groaned, Peter’s hand on your head, keeping you snug to his chest. You and Peter had been dating close to two months now, Ned and Betty moving to five. In any other relationship, you would’ve called this phase The Ticking Time Bomb. You toyed with the black dahlia that sat perfectly between his pecs. Peter had been to Queens last week. He’d retrieved his necklace from the girl in the photo, MJ. She was an old friend, he said. Him and her? Not meant to be. Maybe in another life, he’d say. Another timeline. Then he’d gesture between the two of you. This. This is meant to be. Us.

Peter shrugged. “What if we weren’t?” Peter had an almost permanent bandage on his ribcage, exactly where your soulmate tattoo was. Where and how Peter got injured was a mystery to you, and he’d never dare tell you no matter how much you pushed. It almost made you wonder if he was keeping any more secrets from you.

You propped yourself up, both hands on his chest.

“I couldn’t move back in with Betty. She and Ned are soulmates, they need their privacy.”

“Who said you’d ever to move back in with Betty?”

“I couldn’t afford to live by myself, Peter. Not everyone had a Stark internship in high school.”

“Who said you’d have to move out at all?”

“If we’re not soulmates-” Peter moved your hands from his chest and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you in for a loving kiss. “What have I told you? You and me, we’re meant to be. Us.”

But you didn’t have the tattoos to prove it.

You and Betty were sitting in History class, ignoring the professor’s droning as per usual. Betty had this beaming smile on her face and you were sure if she didn’t say what was on her mind soon, she was going to explode all over someone’s Henry VIII’s notes.

“Betty?”

“Yeah?” She shrieked with scarlet cheeks.

“Spill.”

Betty let out a breath. “Well, since you insisted.” You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend. “I think Ned might propose tonight!”

“I feel like you should be taking me out to dinner before you dump all this load on me.”

Betty’s eyes glazed over, obviously too excited to contain her emotions. “What about you and Peter? The tattoos must match up since you’ve stayed around this long.”

“Actually, I-”

Betty makes an O face at you, which told you she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “C’mon. You haven’t played I’ll Show You Mine if you Show Me Yours?” Betty was in awe. “Y/N! You must really like him.”

You did really like Peter. That was the issue. You weren’t ready to feel jaded if your tattoos didn’t match up like they all inevitably did in the past. You felt something different for Peter. Betty was right. That was why you stuck around this long. “Hey Betty, is my old room still my room if things between me and Peter don’t work out?”

“Of course, Y/N! I’m here for you til’ the end of the line.” Betty pulled you into a great, big hug.

“OK. Session dismissed.” Your professor echoed. “Everyone can go. Y/N and Betty, stay after please.”

You’d gotten kicked off of History, which was bittersweet. Seeing as History was Betty’s major, your professor had to keep her there - but he was sure ‘she’d flourish once you two were separated.’

You and Betty walked out of the main entrance, Ned and Peter both waiting for you under the shelter at the top of the steps. Seasons had changed. It was far from the summer day Peter had to spotted you on the way to class. “We’re gonna run in, drink some cocoa. We’ll catch you guys later.” Ned shivered as Betty re-engulfed him in his jacket she’d been holding for the scent.

Love was weird, but you wanted so bad to be a part of it.

You turned to Peter beside you. “And what are we gonna do?”

“Swinging.”

“Peter, I don’t swing. I’m perfectly happy in our relationship.”

Peter held onto your waist, your head nuzzled into his neck, not daring to look down at the city below you. This was the first time you’d ever experienced something like this, no doubt, but Peter was getting a strange sense of deja vu.

“Y/N!” You didn’t move from your place in his neck, but he knew you could hear him. “I love you. I trust you.”

“You’re-” You didn’t trust yourself to speak. “Fucking.” You opened one eye just to be sure you weren’t dreaming. “Spiderman!”

“I’m something more important: your boyfriend.”

Leave it to Peter Parker to get all sappy with you in the middle of the sky.

You opened both your eyes now. “What about my soulmate?”

“What?” Startled, Peter lost controls of his webs for a moment, and knocked his rib on the side of a building. Luckily for you, you were lower to the ground.

‘Injury detected,’ Peter’s AI, Karen, stated.

“Yeah, I know, Karen.” Peter stated.

“Is it right there, babe?” Peter nodded, sat on the concrete, and pressed the spider in the middle of his suit. You watched as it became loose.

Your eyes flickered to the bandage on his ribcage. Maybe you had your answers as to how Peter always seemed to be hurt, but you needed your ultimate answer. And it was behind the bandage. “Right here, are you sure babe?”

You were on edge. You weren’t sure what you’d do if fate didn’t allow this to be true. For the sake of your heart.

So you peeled back the bandage.

And you found nothing there but a series of bruises. Your heart was crushed. “Nothing, Peter. There’s nothing there.” You had tears in your eyes, and before long you were ugly crying. This wasn’t a case of the novelty wearing off. This was a case of the novelty being broken down ‘til it can’t function no more.

“That’s a good thing baby, maybe I just need to go to a hospital.”

“No, I mean it Peter! There’s nothing there!” You pull up your heart to reveal a half full shirt printed on your body twenty one years ago, this exact heart only belonging to one other person in the world. But it wasn’t Peter. Even though he had just told you he loved you. “Fuck!” Your voice became incomprehensible, drowned out in tears and squeaks of sorrow. “I’m so sorry, but we can’t see each other any more. T-there is someone out there for me. You need to understand.”

And, unsure if your legs would take you all the way, you made your journey to Betty.

When you made it to Betty’s, she stood in the doorway with a rock on her finger. You couldn’t see that, though, through your tear blurred vision.

“Oh, poor baby.” She immediately embraced you, with Ned circling to your side to group hug you. You sniff into her shoulder. “He’s not-we’re not-”

“My darling.” She pauses. “I’m hoping you got the first month’s rent.” She laughed and you laughed before she pulled you back in her embrace and allowed you to feel what you needed to feel.

It’s often underestimated how miserable you need to be in order to cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t even know you did until you woke in your old room, your old band poster replaced by a calendar titled ‘Ned and Betty Forever’ and you laughed because Ned and Betty hadn’t even known each other longer than than six calendar months.

And you missed your windowsill on which you’d perch and overlook the breathtaking view of Brooklyn, and the even more awe-inspiring view of NYU students hurling after one too many, especially after yours and Betty’s parties.

“Do you guys even clean this room?” You called out. “You got a serious case of cobwebs.”

Peter lowered himself to meet your view. You were about to draw the blinds on him, only to realise Betty and Ned had gotten them removed whilst you were living with Peter.

“Hear me out.”

“I have no choice.” You chew on the flesh of your cheek. “You took a while to find me.”

“You left me for dead.”

It was hard to beat that one.

“Peter, if you have something to say, say it.”

“I’m sorry.” he’s swinging upside down, side to side and it slightly amuses you to think he’s getting dizzy if the last three months were at your expense. “I know how much this soulmate bullshit means to you, and I kept you longer than you would’ve liked. I’m also sorry ‘cause I knew I wasn’t your soulmate from the start.”

You gasp.

“But I wouldn’t in a billion years say that either you or I belong to someone else. MJ is my soulmate, yes. I love her with all my heart, but I believe destiny can change in the same world where people disappear for five years. MJ moved on. I’ve moved on. Who cares about a stupid tattoo? People go to parlours and give themselves their own all the time. People get them removed all the time. I’m getting my black dahlia erased.” Your face softens a little bit at that, you guard slightly down, but you refuse to wave a white flag without first making your point.

You rubbed your rib cage. “I care.”

“Y/N, you’re smarter than to deny what you feel. You’re an English major, studying Romeo and Juliet. You understand the world better than I do, and I’ve been to 600 different versions of it. You have a heart half full on your ribcage and I have half a flower on my foot. Tell me, would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?”

You know the answer’s the same one Betty gave Ned tonight when he got down on one knee, the same response you’d give Peter if he was to ask you the same question, what you’d tell anyone if they queried if you’d go through what you went with Peter all over again.

You pull down his mask, and look deep into both of Peter’s eyes, and still him from swinging. “Love someone for loving you for a change.”

And you don’t have to say it, Ned and Betty hiss it out for you not so subtly from the windowsill in the livingroom. “Yes!”

So when you and Peter kiss, it’s not about novelties or concepts, fate or tomorrow, it’s just the beautiful bliss that is love, in this moment.

The unmistakable indicator that you and Peter are meant to be.

Fin.

Credit for the gif goes to: @/tomhollandnet

Masterlist

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diana--williams · 3 years ago

Text

Watched Movies-Series

Currently Watching

Kannada. Korean. Hindi 1 &2 English 1, 2, &3

English movies. Hindi Movies.

Hindi-Indian

The Family Man

Delhi Crimes*

The Fame Game

Bombay Begums

Masaba Masaba*

A Suitable Boy

Ghoul

Feels Like Ishq*

Made in Heaven*

A Test Case

Four More Shots Please!

Heeramandi

English

The Mentalist

11.22.63

Riverdale

The Shadowhunters

Teen Wolf

Quantico

The end of the Fucking World

Game of Thrones

Merlin

13 Reasons Why

Shadow and Bone

The Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina

The Vampire Diaries

The Originals

Legacies

Unorthodox

Bridgerton

The Witcher

Sherlock

Suits

Wanda Vision

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Loki

Hawk-Eye

What If

MoonKnight

Tiny Pretty Things

Stranger Things

Sex Education

Freud (German-Hungarian)

How To Get Away With Murder

The Wheel of Time

The Alienist

Supernatural

Euphoria

House of Dragon

The Nevers

The Time Traveler's Wife

The Witcher: Blood Origin

Lucifer

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story

The Summer I turned Pretty

V Wars

Bodyguard

Never Have I ever

1899

Carnival Row

The Sandman

Wednesday (~50th)

The Irregulars

Fate: The Winx Saga

Half Bad: The Bastard Son and The Devil Himself

The Queen's Gambit

The Imperfects

The Midnight Club

Warrior Nun

Luna Nera (Italian)

Lockwood and Co

Citadel*

She-Hulk: Attorney at Law

Ms. Marvel

Secret Invasion

Echo

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians*

Agent Carter

Agatha All Along*

Korean-Thai

2gether The Series (Thai)

Hwarang

Strong Girl Do Bong Soon

Boys Over Flowers

High Society

Kill Me Heal Me

Its Okay not to be Okay

Moon Embracing the Sun

Hotel Del Luna

The Heirs

He is Psychometric

Guardian

Dokgo Rewind

The King -Eternal Monarch

Descendants of the Sun

Love Alarm

Tempted

Suits

My Country: The New Age

Save Me

EXO Next Door

100 Days My Prince

Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo

Mad Dog

What's Wrong with Secretary Kim

Weightlifting Fairy Kim BokJoo

Lawless Lawyer

Legend of the Blue Sea

True Beauty

My ID is Gangnam Beauty

The Bride Of Habaek

Moorim HighSchool

Rookie Historian Goo Hae-Ryung

Her Private Life

A Korean Odyssey

Navillera

Kingdom +Ashin of the North

Tale of the Nine Tailed Fox

Nevertheless

Sweet Home

Vincenzo

The Tale of Nokdo

Squid Game

Extraordinary You

Start Up

Our Beloved Summer

Hometown Cha Cha Cha

My Name

Crash Landing on You

Flower of Evil

The School Nurse Files

Oh My Venus

Forecasting Love and Weather

Business Proposal

Love in the Moonlight

The Devil's Judge

Happiness

Sisyphus: The Myth

The Silent Sea

Dali and the Cocky Prince

Eve

Soundtrack #1

Romance is a Bonus Book

Extraordinary Attorney Woo

W -Two Worlds Apart

Sh**ting Stars

Alchemy of Souls

The Uncanny Counter

Bloodhounds*

Tomorrow

The Crowned Clown

Snowdrop

The World of the Married

Celebrity

The Glory

18 Again

Abyss

Summer Strike

Love to Hate you

King the Land

Bulgasal: Immortal Souls

The Secret Life of My Secretary (I loved you from the Beginning)

Mask Girl

Somebody

Doom at your service

Extracurricular

Gyeongseong Creature*

Destined with you

Sell your haunted house

Itaewon Class

Strong Girl Nam-Soon

The Fabulous

Little Women

Doona!

My Demon

Run-On

The Penthouse: War in Life

A Killer Paradox

Remarriage and Desires

Sky Castle

Taxi Driver* (~100th)

Crash Course on Romance

Signal

Black Knight

Death's Game

Beyond Evil

Anna

Hierarchy*

Doctor Slump

Revenant

See You In My 19th Life

Daily Dose of Sunshine

Mystic Pop-up Bar

When the phone rings

Love Next Door

The Judge From Hell

Moving*

Vigilante*

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faeroace · 3 years ago

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People had always told faer that fae would fall in love, that, one day, someone would appear that would make faer heart beat faster and faer knees go weak, and complete faer in ways that fae couldn’t comprehend. So fae waited.

And waited.

But no one who came along made faer feel that way. While faer friends described crushes, fae would listen baffled, but supportive. Phrases like, “Well, they seem nice”, became lifelines in conversations, “Oh, I like their...eyes/nose/smile” safe responses to pictures and proclamations of love. Fae didn’t understand, but fae tried.

“Don’t you worry, you’ll understand when you’re older.”

“You’ll understand when you fall in love.”

“Don’t worry your someone will come along.”

Fae had heard such declarations so often, fae’d never even stopped to question it. Of course, fae would wait, of course, someone would come along and sweep faer off faer feet. It would be just like the novels fae read.

Fae’d fallen in love with characters and concepts and worlds, fae’d swooned over declarations of love and blushed at kissing scenes. Fae’d read of doomed romances and fluffy meet-cutes, of raunchy lovers and pious hand holding. When it came to books and movies and stories fae understood what people meant by falling.

...it just...never happened off screen, or off the pages...

But people kept telling faer to wait...so fae waited.

Even when fae told people fae had never felt incomplete.

Fae waited.

Even after fae admitted fae didn’t think much about kissing or holding hands or sex.

Fae waited.

Even after fae explained that having a romantic partner sounded draining instead of desirable.

Fae waited.

And fae tried to fit in, even when fae knew fae didn’t have to. Fae chose crushes and went out, and flirted, and gathered phone numbers. Fae ignored how faer stomach twisted at the word “date” how faer heart ached before leaving the house and breathing became difficult halfway through meals. Because this was what fae was supposed to want.

So what if fae started checking the clock the moment fae entered the restaurant, counting down towards the time it would be polite for faer to leave? Even if fae liked faer partner. Even if faer partner was perfect in every way.

Fae were just missing a spark. The person across from faer just wasn’t the one.

So fae waited.

And dated.

And tried to make breath out of leaden air.

Tried to taste past the discomfort of being there with someone who looked at faer in ways that set faer skin crawling.

Fae smiled and laughed in all the right places, turned down second dates and went home to collapse on faer bed and try to forget the gnawing feeling that something was wrong.

Fae just had to wait...right?

Faer partner was somewhere out there. Fae just had to kiss a couple of frog to find them.

But...so long as fae were waiting...maybe fae would start taking faerself on dates.

Fae went to museums and movies, took faerself on trips to parks and to those fancy restaurants fae always wanted to go to. Fae invited friends to dance classes, and art events, and dinners.

And fae waited.

But fae stopped saying yes to dates.

It wasn’t that fae weren’t interested, but because food tasted better when fae were alone and movies were more when fae weren’t trying to dodge hidden glances and trips to the park were so much more fun when fae could wander off without having to explain where and why.

And of course that might make it harder for faer destined partner to find faer, but love finds a way, right?

So, fae waited.

And fae began to take up more space. Laugh louder, dance down the aisles on solo trips to the store, ask questions at museum exhibits and ask librarians about the latest books. Fae traveled and sang when fae were home and brought a dog. Fae moved to a new place with a friend and planned vacations and watched silly movies.

And of course, fae were just biding faer time until fae met someone.

But maybe...just not anytime soon.

Maybe not at all.

Fae kept that hope locked away in faer chest. Maybe there was no one out there for faer at all.

Wouldn’t that be lovely?

#fae/faer #fae/faeself #short story #aroace #aromantic #asexual #romance repulsed #writing #am writing #neopronouns #faeroace

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ahgaseda · 5 years ago

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enough | six

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

It wasn’t until you stepped inside your condo that your heart began to calm. Arguing with Jinyoung still excited you like hell, made something reckless rush through your veins. The two of you were just as hot-headed and stubborn as ever.

Sometimes, you were desperate to get a reaction out of him. No matter how big or small. Especially when he was guarded, which was almost always. It was then you realized that regardless of how many years had passed, you and Jinyoung were still the same two kids wildly and hopelessly in love with each other.

It didn’t matter what was said and done, there would always be the push and pull. You would always find your way back to each other. Your fates were intertwined, destined to tangle despite the distance between you. In a way, you and Jinyoung were doomed to be stuck with each other forever.

With a shake of your head, you chuckled quietly to yourself. Less than an hour had passed and you already missed him. It was pathetic and deeply wounded your pride.

Striding toward the bedroom, you stopped in your tracks when Jackson proceeded to make himself comfortable on the living room sofa.

Brows stitching, you asked confusedly, “Um, what are you doing?”

Jackson glanced at you and flashed that grin of his, replying coolly, “Oh, Jinyoung asked me to spend the night.”

You rolled your eyes and retorted, “Why? To make sure I don’t fuck anyone?”

“Of course not,” Jackson scoffed. “Don’t be a brat.”

You snorted. Under the circumstances, only Jackson could get away with calling you that. Then, a dark thought crossed your mind and you asked, “Am I in some kind of danger?”

“Absolutely not,” Jackson said, like a seasoned politician. It technically wasn’t a lie, he reasoned. You were perfectly safe with him in the next room.

“Okay,” you sighed, knowing neither Jackson or Jinyoung would ever readily admit anything of that nature to you.

In the penthouse, Jinyoung sat pensively by the fireplace, a glass of hard liquor in his hand. He rattled the ice cubes before taking another swig.

Relentless and systematic, he had been undermining Jiwon. Turning his allies against him. Alerting his enemies to his moves. Jinyoung knew how to deal with potential threats, but that did nothing for the fact you were now in the line of fire.

Jiwon’s tactics had reminded Jinyoung why he stayed away for as long as he did, why he made sure to never link the two of you together. Until you forced his hand. It was a dangerous business, his line of work. And there was a reason why men in his position never kept lovers more than one night.

Jinyoung rubbed his forehead where a throb and ache were festering; a side-effect of thinking too damn long and hard.

He couldn’t protect you every minute of every day. You had a life to lead, a dream you had been working toward for as long as he had known and loved you. It wasn’t fair for him to control your every move, to make you live in a constant state of fear that at any moment someone could try to take you away just to punish him.

“I have to get out,” Jinyoung whispered to himself, running a hand down his face. For a long time, Jinyoung had been drunk on the power his status gave him. For once in his life, he had control in the hellfires that surrounded him.

But he wasn’t fireproof.

He could let it all go for you, couldn’t he? He wouldn’t think twice when it came to starting over for your sake. At this point, Jinyoung was ready to give up everything just for the chance to wake up next to you each and every morning.

The wheels were turning in his head. He mapped all the ties in his mind - the ones he would have to sever. Nothing could keep him tethered to this life. He would have to start from nothing.

When the phone rang and jolted him from his reverie, Jinyoung glared at the thing in annoyance, softening only when he saw your name and photo on the screen.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked gruffly.

You frowned and wished you could stare daggers into his face. “Well, hello to you, too,” you smarted back.

Jinyoung felt his lip twitch with amusement at your tone and said, “I can’t talk long.”

You were agitated by his dismissal of you, which could only mean he was in deep thought and not to be disturbed, but you would be damned if you let Park Jinyoung tell you what to do.

Getting comfortable in bed, you pulled the blanket up to your chest and huffed, “Fine. I’ll keep this short. Do you think we will ever be able to move past any of this?”

Jinyoung chortled. “I’m an insufferable grudge holder.”

It went without saying you knew that better than anyone. “And I run from my problems.”

Jinyoung’s wrath flickered and he snapped, “I was a problem?”

You flinched, playful smile vanishing from your face as emotion bubbled in your chest, and quickly stammered, “That’s not what I meant…”

“I know,” he interjected, heaving a sigh. Jinyong realized one of these days he would have to let that go, but for now, it continued to burn a massive, gaping hole inside of him.

You felt small, like a child begging for forgiveness after running away from home with her head hung low. “You weren’t what I was running from,” you countered softly.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” said Jinyoung. But I wish you would.

“Jinyoung, you saw me,” you replied, as if reading his mind. “Everyday I had to look you in the eyes and see how fucking terrified you were when you looked at me.”

Jinyoung remembered that, though he tried desperately not to. There were countless nights he tried to drown the image of you out of his mind, withering away before his very eyes. “We were in it together,” he whispered, hurt.

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. Yes, Jinyoung was always by your side, but he didn’t know the battles raging inside of you. He would never know the agony you felt. “I was the only one in that car,” you spoke firmly.

Jinyoung moved the phone from his mouth, stifling his rage. He would never forget the day he almost lost you forever, but even though you were back safe in his arms, he saw the light had faded from your eyes. The girl he knew and loved had left him.

At his silence, you were finally given the chance to say your peace. “I became defined by my trauma. I was dying inside little by little every day. I was losing who I was. The girl you fell in love with was fading away until I was just this shell of a person I used to be.”

Jinyoung swallowed the lump in his throat. “You had to get out.”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see. “I did.”

“I respect you for saving yourself, but I resented you for not saving me, too,” Jinyoung confessed, his voice nearly breaking.

Tears welled in his eyes. The hurt was festering inside him again. He relived the day you left him over and over until it was branded permanently across his memory. He waited for the pain to dull, to fade, but time never healed that wound.

“I wanted to,” you murmured, a tear escaping down your cheek. “When I came here I had a plan. I would work my ass off by night and go to school by day. I wanted to make a life for us and I wanted to be the girl I always dreamed of being.”

Jinyoung straightened his shoulders and buried his emotions as he always did. He couldn’t dwell on them. The more he did, the more the hole in his chest deepened. It threatened to rip him at the seams. “So, we went different ways toward the same goal.”

Your first instinct was to argue, but you mulled. “I guess we did.”

“You weren’t the only one who changed,” Jinyoung spoke in a low tone, rising from his chair to top off his glass. “If you were defined by your trauma, then I was defined by my anger. I let it put me on paths I would have never gone otherwise.”

You often thought of Jinyoung after you left. Did he tear the house to pieces? Did he scream and cry until his lungs gave out? You imagined he burned every picture that ever existed of you and him together.

“Jinyoung, I wanted to take you with me,” you started, biting your lip.

He swallowed down the liquor, gritting his teeth at the familiar burn down his throat, and continued, “I know, but I joined the gangs. That’s not your fault.”

“You did it because of me,” you insisted. “Because of what happened to me.”

Jinyoung paused. The image of you in the hospital - bloodied and bruised - had broken the last of the goodness in him. Jinyoung had danced with the darkness, flirted with the danger, but you leaving him on that driveway was the breaking point; the moment the dance ended and he let the darkness consume him.

“I had always known I would die for you if I had to,” Jinyoung finally said. “When I realized I was willing to kill for you, it changed me.”

“I regret it,” you whispered, face tensing with more tears. “I regret leaving you.”

“Don’t,” Jinyoung replied levelly, though he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms. “We are who we are because of the choices we made. Like it or not, we are all defined by the bad shit that happened in our lives.”

You sighed loudly, rubbing at your tears with a fist. “You’re right.”

He laughed in surprise and joked, “Someone get that on tape.”

You chuckled, relieved to feel the humor cutting through the tension. After a short pause, you told him, “Goodnight, Jinyoung. I love you.”

“Sleep well, baby,” he said, taking another gulp. “I love you, too.”

You hung up the phone and curled back into bed. The weight of his words kept you awake, haunted by the depths of their meaning and their consequences.

When I realized I was willing to kill for you, it changed me...

You swallowed, imagining Jinyoung’s hands dripping with blood as they came to settle around your throat. But you didn’t cry out in fear, you moaned in pleasure.

Shaking the imagery from your mind, you eventually drifted to restless sleep.

The next morning, you woke to your phone ringing. Heart thudding at the prospect of talking to Jinyoung again, all things considered, you roused yourself and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Excitement quickly dissipated when you saw the caller.

“Hey, Hoseok,” you answered sleepily. “How are you?”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he replied, apologetic. “I was calling to ask you that.”

You rose from the bed, stepping toward the window to see what weather to expect for the day ahead. “I’m okay. What can I do for you?”

Hoseok shuffled on the other line and he couldn’t find his voice for a moment, but finally said, “This is really inappropriate of me, but would you like to meet for lunch?”

“Sure,” you responded, brow furrowing. “Why would that be inappropriate?”

“Since we don’t work together anymore.”

You rolled your eyes at his concern and replied, “I still consider you a friend, Hoseok.”

Hoseok was relieved to hear that, but it only worsened his guilt. “I want to apologize and make things right with you. Is that okay?”

The awkwardness from the night before was still clearly present, but it did nothing to undermine the past four years of having Hoseok as a faithful friend and protector. You tried to put him at ease as best you could. “You don’t need to do either. We’re fine. But I’m not opposed to grabbing a bite to eat with you, for old times’ sake.”

“Alright,” Hoseok said, and you could practically hear his smile. “See you at the usual.”

“See you there.”

You hung up and looked at your phone for a moment. Jinyoung had accused Hoseok of having some kind of feelings toward you. Hoseok didn’t deny it, but he didn’t really say anything either. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Hoseok had done nothing but be good to you since the day you met him.

Stepping out of the bedroom whilst fastening your earring, Jackson glanced up and asked, “Well, where are you going all dolled up?”

The pleated skirt stopped just above your knees and the sheer white blouse was loose-fitting over your black tank top. It was supposed to be a beautiful day and you dressed accordingly.

“I’m going to lunch with Hoseok,” you told him nonchalantly.

Jackson’s countenance changed on a dime. It was the first time he used a heavy tone with you. “Is that wise?”

Preempting an argument, you countered patiently, “Jacks, listen. He was there for me when I had nothing and no one. Besides, he’s a bodyguard. He won’t let anything happen to me.”

Jackson’s gaze was stern, you almost faltered, but with a sigh, he relented, “I will be right outside the entire time. Non-negotiable.”

“Fine,” you said with a short nod, thanking him for his understanding.

Meanwhile, Yugyeom was thrilled to have something to do. He opened the back door to the Range Rover for you, whistling at your dressed up self. You waved him away with a grin and hopped inside.

Given it was still quite early in the day, the small restaurant was almost empty. You stepped inside, spotting Hoseok at one of the tables. He stood and greeted you warmly, waiting for you to sit before he returned to his seat.

“I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble with the boss,” you spoke quietly.

“Not at all,” Hoseok replied, waving away your worry. “Business as usual today. Some of the girls have been asking about you.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. You were grateful for the friends you made at the agency, but by the nature of the business, no one bonded too closely. “I miss them already.”

Hoseok shifted in his seat and began, “I, uh, asked you here for a reason.”

You assumed to clear the air, but something about his visible discomfort put you on edge. “Let’s hear it,” you said as the waiter set a glass of water before you.

Hoseok paused until the server was out of earshot to say, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

His eyes were heavy as they bore into yours and he spoke under his breath, “For what I’m about to do.”

Your brows stitched.

Hoseok withdrew a folder from behind him and placed it on the table before you. “You know nothing about Jinyoung.”

Your heart sank, but a wave of rage surmounted your disappointment. After a pause, you murmured softly, “I’m the only one that knows him.”

“You know the old him,” Hoseok told you with a shake of his head and proceeded to pull a photo from the file.

At the tiniest glimpse of blood, you slammed your hands down over his, eyes fixated to his face. You didn’t know you were capable of the level of anger surging through your body and your voice came out a low growl, “Hoseok, I’m warning you.”

Hoseok hesitated. You were seething before him, gripping his hands and keeping them on the counter, blocking the image from view. Slipping from your grasp and placing a hand over yours tenderly, he warned, “I don’t want you to get into bed with a man like that.”

You bristled and snapped, “Hoseok, I’m not naive. I know everyone likes to think I’m the little girl that’s just a plaything for a powerful man. Every girl in the agency gets into bed with bad men, worse men. The only difference is your feelings for me.”

Hoseok blinked.

Fear crept up your spine. Emotion gripped your throat tight. Lips trembling, you thought, Please don’t show me the monster I created.

Hoseok lowered his head, sighing loudly. Without another word, he pulled the photo from beneath your hands and tucked it back inside the folder.

Seeing him back down, you asked, “You know who told Seokjin about me and Jinyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“An interested party,” came a voice behind you.

As you turned, the man sitting blithely at the table behind yours had moved to your side. He spoke your name in greeting, a sinister smile plastered to his face, and said, “I’m Jiwon, a former employee of Jinyoung’s.”

“Disgruntled, it would seem,” you deadpanned.

“Why don’t you hand me that phone?” he sneered, glancing down at your lap and holding out his hand.

Your phone had been in your right hand, concealed beneath the table, and you were attempting to text without looking, hoping to get a message off to Yugyeom or Jackson or even Jinyoung, for all you cared.

Shifting your gaze to Hoseok, you noticed the shame on his face before he hung his head.

“No, I think I’ll hang onto it,” you replied, hiding your phone behind your back.

Jiwon exhaled loudly for dramatic effect as he sidled into the seat next to you, pulling a switchblade from his pocket. The bite of metal was suddenly cold against your waist, even through the fabric of your shirt.

You looked down at the blade and swallowed the lump in your throat. It all made sense now. Jackson staying over. Being hesitant to let you go to lunch. You were in danger. And now Jackson was right outside, but had no idea you were at a stranger’s mercy.

Bringing your gaze back to his face, you asked, “Are you going to stab me in the middle of a restaurant, Jiwon?”

Jiwon leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Believe me when I say I’ve done much, much worse.”

You believed him. Trapped between him and the wall, there was nowhere for you to run, no way to escape. With a frown, you handed him the phone without further resistance.

“What do you want?”

Jiwon slipped your phone into his back pocket and sang, “I want to open your pretty little eyes. Help you see the light where Jinyoung is concerned.”

You tried to stay calm, appearing unaffected. Instead, you feigned annoyance. “If you have a problem, take it up with him. I’m just his toy.”

“Nah, sweetheart,” he crooned, stroking a finger over your cheek. “You’re his baby.”

Everything about this man repulsed you and you tried to lean away, but the switchblade followed, staying pressed to your side. “Then, you know you should leave me alone,” you warned.

Jiwon took your threat in stride and said, “He started off small after you left him. Guns, drugs, women. Easy to imagine Jinyoung as a pimp, isn’t it?”

Your eyes burned.

“With patience and dedication, he ascended the ranks. Made a name for himself. He’s ruthless and rightly feared in the underground.”

You knew you were on the verge of tears, but above everything else, you couldn’t risk crying in front of this man. “Stop,” you choked out.

“Don’t you wanna know where all the money comes from? How he’s able to spoil his baby girl like he does,” Jiwon taunted, spinning a lock of your hair around his finger as he toyed with you. “Rich and powerful people have problems that can’t be seen or they will lose everything. Jinyoung is the one they call to fix those problems.”

“You’re lying.” You were adamant, but anyone could tell you believed him. You knew he was telling the truth.

“Am I?” Jiwon questioned, motioning to the table. “Look at the file. I got it for you. That’s a government official file. Everything they have on him.”

You looked at the manila folder before you and the next words out of your mouth surprised even you, “I don’t care. Whatever’s he done… I still love him.”

Jiwon cocked a brow. “Anything?”

“I can’t stop loving him,” you muttered in defeat. “I tried.”

Jiwon sighed yet again. “Oh, baby girl. If I can’t turn you against him, then I have no choice but to take you away from him.”

“Jiwon,” Hoseok warned. That clearly wasn’t part of the deal when he gave his cooperation.

“You’re done,” Jiwon shot back with a pointed finger.

Your eyes widened as Jiwon tugged harshly on your arm and you exclaimed, “Hoseok, you would rather I be dead than with Jinyoung?”

Jiwon pressed the blade to your side, glancing around. “Get up and walk. Don’t make a scene.”

A phone rang in the background. The owner of the restaurant answered and not a moment later, he began yelling to close down the shop.

“Shit, he’s on to me,” Jiwon cursed, leaping to his feet and hoisting you up violently. “Let’s go, baby bird.”

You struggled - it was your body’s natural instinct - and yelled, “If you’re just gonna kill me anyway, I won’t make it easier for you.”

Jiwon weighed his options. He needed you; you were the only card left to play, but you had no intention of going quietly. The situation was devolving. The restaurant cleared out. And Hoseok was starting to move toward you.

“Jiwon,” shouted a familiar voice.

You caught a glimpse of Jackson barreling inside before Jiwon released you, turning tail and running as his life depended on it. You staggered with adrenaline into Hoseok’s arms, pushing him away angrily.

“Hoseok, get out of here,” you snapped, trembling with nerves. “For the years you took care of me, I can give you this one chance. I may not be able to save you when he gets here.”

Hoseok gave you a parting glance filled with regret before reaching for the folder on the table.

“No, that’s mine. Remember?” you spoke under your breath.

Hoseok looked between you and the file, then he left without a goodbye or an apology.

Though you expected neither.

You grabbed the folder and hurriedly stuffed it into your purse, plopping down onto your seat and grabbing your untouched glass of water with a shaky hand.

The door opened and by the slow, drawn-out footsteps, you knew exactly who was coming.

Jinyoung slipped into the seat across from you, trying desperately to conceal the turmoil on his face.

“Are you…,” he began unsurely.

“Don’t,” you interrupted, refusing to look at him. Your blood was boiling.

Jinyoung exhaled loudly through his nose and respected your wishes. For a moment or two, you sat there in silence until you finished your glass of water.

“Are you happy?” you finally forced the words out. “Is this what you wanted?”

He frowned.

Gazing down at your trembling hands, you murmured, “You know, that day they kidnapped me, I swore I would never go through that again. If anyone ever tried to take me, I would fight like hell. I would rather die than be taken to whatever horror they had waiting for me.”

“Baby…,” Jinyoung started, wanting to silence you. This was dangerous territory for him. He couldn’t bear to hear anymore.

You set your jaw. “We both know what was gonna happen to me, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t stomach it; he never could. Even at the hospital, he refused to listen when the police tried to tell him about the men who had taken you and what their intentions were. The town had been descending deeper and deeper into depravity.

And even though salvation had come, you still lost a part of yourself. Your peace. Your joy. From that moment on, you stopped seeing people. You only saw danger.

Jackson rounded the corner, approaching swiftly. “Jinyoung, we got him. What do you want to do?”

Jinyoung looked at you for a moment. You still refused to meet his eyes. In fact, your attention remained fixated on your shaking hands. And he was overcome with hatred.

“I’ll be right back.”

You stood sharply in dissension and called after him, “Jinyoung.”

Your lover rounded on you, speaking darkly and slowly, “Sit.”

Everything in you resisted for the sake of your stubbornness and pride, but your body obeyed him without a second thought. The Jinyoung standing before you was an entirely different animal.

Your eyes lingered on his back as he stepped out of your sight.

Jinyoung ambled into the alleyway, devoid of expression as he approached the dead end. Jiwon was there on his knees, Jaebeom standing over him with a fist in his hair.

“Jiwon, I knew you were crazy, but I never thought you to be stupid,” Jinyoung chastised, taking your phone from Jaebeom’s outstretched hand.

Jiwon spat blood from his mouth. Jackson had not hesitated to inflict punishment on him when caught, resulting in the busted lip and broken nose. “I’m flattered,” he grumbled, obstinate.

Jinyoung slipped his hands in his pockets and drifted closer, appearing almost indifferent. The bloodied sight was pleasing to his eyes, fanning the fires of his rage.

“I admit, you had me for a moment, but all you did was wake the bear.”

“I already screwed you, Jinyoung-ie,” Jiwon taunted, flashing a grin of crimson-stained teeth. “I gave them every shred of condemnable shit I have on you.”

Jaebeom clocked a glance at Jinyoung. He knew what that meant. Jackson clenched his jaw, enraged.

Jinyoung didn’t flinch, didn’t bat an eye. “Then, I’m doing you a favor. There is no life on these streets for a snitch.”

Jiwon laughed. “No point in killing me. You’re going to lose her. I won.”

“I win,” Jinyoung replied. “I’m the one keeping my life.”

The blood drained from Jiwon’s face. The rebellion left him and he exclaimed, “Really, Jinyoung? You’re gonna kill me in broad daylight over this shit?"

Jinyoung glared and retorted, “I would gladly kill you in the middle of Time fucking Square.”

Jiwon whimpered. It finally sank in what a mistake he had made.

Jinyoung crouched down, his eyes scalding. He never made decisions out of vengeance, only strategy, only necessity. Which was what Jiwon had been banking on. But there was a first for everything. Staring his enemy in the face, he whispered, “You put your hands on my girl.”

Jiwon swallowed.

Jinyoung lifted back to full height and gave a single nod to Jaebeom. “Do it.”

Jaebeom pulled the gun from his belt and cocked back the chamber.

“Yugyeom, I swear,” you said sharply, yanking your hand from his grasp. Poor Yugyeom had been trying to usher you into the waiting car and failing spectacularly.

Jinyoung emerged from the alleyway and onto the sidewalk. You overlapped your arms, ignoring Yugyeom’s pleas. Jinyoung took one look at you and knew that you had far surpassed furious.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked loudly. “Why haven’t you called the police?”

Jinyoung dragged his feet to you, outstretching his arm with your phone in hand.

You took your phone, staring down at the screen and seeing your own reflection. It hit you. Jiwon was dead. Threatening you had cost him his life.

“Baby…,” Jinyoung began, ready to face your wrath.

You took a step back at his approach and cried, “What did you get me into?”

Jinyoung lowered his head.

You hissed, gritting your teeth, “This is exactly the life I didn’t want for us!”

“I know.”

That infuriated you. He never sounded so indifferent, so unaffected by something that shredded the fabric of who you were, but you knew he was only hiding. Jinyoung devoted all of his energy to appearing strong on the surface.

“I can’t do this,” you whimpered. “I can’t live in that kind of fear every day. You of all people know that.”

“Come here,” Jinyoung crooned, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck and tucking you into his arms, your face buried against his chest where you belonged.

“No,” you snapped, pushing him back and storming away, wiping your tears roughly with the back of your hand. You had no idea where you were going, just that you needed to get away from him.

Jinyoung knew that, too, and he trudged behind you, always a few steps in your wake. “Where are you going?” he asked, annoyed.

You continued down the sidewalk, aimless and in denial, and shouted, “I’m not doing this. I’m not going through this again.”

“Through what?”

You said nothing.

Jinyoung felt his heart sink somewhere into his stomach. He quickened his pace, grabbing your arm and spinning you round to face him. “Stop and talk to me,” he yelled, afraid.

“You’re going to make me do this all over again,” you spat, shoving his hands away.

Jinyoung was at his breaking point and though he never dared raise his voice at you, this time he screamed, “What the hell am I making you do? Spit it out!”

“Leave you!”

Jinyoung paused, stunned into silence.

You staggered, covering your face with both hands as the tears began to flow. “It killed me last time. It really killed me. I won’t survive a second time.”

Jinyoung frowned and his voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “Then, don’t.”

You shrugged, running out of energy. “What choice do I have?”

“You have me,” Jinyoung snapped, clasping your arms like he was about to shake some sense into you. “We have each other. That’s enough!”

You lowered your gaze to the road beneath your shoes. “I’m sorry.”

Jinyoung refused to listen, refused to believe for a second you would do this. “No.”

“Let go of me,” you whimpered, trying to pry yourself from his grasp.

Jinyoung was too strong and he held you with every fiber of his being. “I’m not letting you leave again,” he hissed bitterly. “I was young and stupid last time, but not anymore.”

What a fool you must have looked; standing on the sidewalk yelling at your lover like something out of a second rate drama. “Jinyoung…”

Jinyoung’s voice was filled with conviction, it seeped into the air around you to the point you could feel his fire inside yourself. “You said it killed you before. Well, it killed me, too! When are you going to realize we can’t live without each other?”

It was a poignant question. You knew the answer the moment you left him four years ago. Without Jinyoung, a piece of you was missing.

Jinyoung softened, only a little. His hands slipped from your arms, moving to cradle your face as he stared into your eyes with longing and devotion. “I don’t care if this way of life gets us killed in the end. At least, we will have been together. You would rather be away from me and safe than with me and in danger? That doesn’t make any sense. Your place in this life is with me!”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Then, stop all this bullshit about running away,” he growled. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared shitless, too. But I know what I’m doing now. I take care of you and you take care of me. That’s it. That’s the bottom line. Nothing else matters.”

You had no argument and even if you did, you wouldn’t use it. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. You never wanted to be parted from him again for an instant. He was where you belonged and you finally came to accept it.

But you couldn’t justify his way of life and you snarled under your breath, “You know why I hate the gangs. Why I hate everything about what you do.”

Jinyoung nodded and spoke diplomatically, “I know every reason why. I hate them for all the same reasons. But I learned a long time ago, if you can’t beat them, own them.”

You sighed and peered up at him with bloodshot eyes. The file in your purse felt suddenly heavier. “How many people have you killed?”

Jinyoung blinked, surprised by your question. But he answered without hesitation, “None.”

You tilted your head. “You have other people do it for you, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, and not very well. In fact, Jinyoung didn’t even try to change his tone. He knew you would see right through him this time.

“Don’t lie to me,” you pressed; unsure what answer you wanted out of him and knowing damn well nothing he gave you would suffice.

Jinyoung leaned in, slipping his fingers into your hair, and whispered, “I have never taken someone’s life with my own hands.”

That was enough for now. You just wanted to be in his arms. “Take me back to your place,” you ordered stubbornly. “I’m not sleeping alone tonight.”

Jinyoung studied your face and ultimately nodded. His heart was racing. He recognized your fight or flight response - you were ready to bolt. The memory of him chasing that truck down the drive flooded into his mind. You never looked back as he screamed your name, begging you not to leave him.

The car was eerily quiet as Yugyeom drove. You and Jinyoung sat together in the backseat, but there may as well have been a wall erected between your bodies. Jinyoung turned to you only once, seeing your eyes fixated on the window as buildings blurred by.

Jinyoung knew in that moment he had lost. He would wake in the morning and find you gone.

You felt a storm raging inside you; a constant conflict and collision of emotions. The hardest thing you had ever done in your life was leave Jinyoung and for what? He still became what you feared, if not worse. You looked back in regret, wishing you had stayed with him.

Jinyoung called your name.

You turned reluctantly toward him, but he was looking pensively at his hands.

“It was never your job to save me,” Jinyoung said gently.

“Of course it was,” you replied, a little too sharp.

Jinyoung shook his head. “You made the right choice, baby. Now it’s my turn.”

You rolled your eyes and angled back to the window before tears could stream down your face.

If the car was quiet and tense, the penthouse was much worse. Jinyoung had your study materials brought from your house and then ordered food, not that you had much appetite. Then, he locked himself in his bedroom and didn’t come out again.

You studied as best you could, occasionally stealing glances of his door. Yugyeom did his best to alleviate some of the stress, but his humor could only go so far. You spent the afternoon on the verge of tears as you poured over textbooks. In the evening, you indulged yourself with reruns on the television.

By the time night fell, the bedroom door opened and Jinyoung stepped out, looking quite disheveled. He had clearly slept most of the day away.

“Go home,” he told Yugyeom.

Yugyeom leapt from your side without argument. He had a penchant for rebellion and teasing, but even he knew neither of you were in a lighthearted mood at the moment.

You said your goodbyes and watched Jinyoung for an explanation.

Jinyoung cocked his head toward the bedroom and said, “Let’s go to bed.”

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him. You wanted to be angry, perpetually reminded of the day’s events and the folder in your purse that could very well hold the fate of your relationship inside. Standing up sharply, you stomped into his bedroom and Jinyoung closed the door behind you.

Jinyoung rifled for a white tee while you unbuttoned your blouse. Your eyes were on his back as you tossed the shirt away, tugging your tank over your head and unclasping your bra impatiently. Jinyoung faced you, failing to hide the way his attention fell to your naked breasts.

You pulled your skirt down until it dropped in a pile around your feet and there you stood in only your panties. Jinyoung bit his lip, pupils widening at the sight before him. You grumbled under your breath and held out your hand.

Jinyoung tossed the tee to you, which you pulled on quickly, and watched you clamber into his bed. You settled on the mattress and made yourself comfortable beneath his messy array of blankets. On your side, you closed your eyes and buried your face against the pillow.

It smelled deeply of him.

“Should I crash on the couch?” Jinyoung asked bluntly a moment later. He was trying to gauge just how angry you were at him.

Your fuse was short and you barked, “Get in here, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung didn’t hesitate to crawl into bed behind you, tucking to your back and curling an arm around your waist. It didn’t matter how furious you felt, being in his arms provided a feeling of safety and security you could never find anywhere else. When you were with Jinyoung, you were untouchable, invulnerable.

“I will never love anyone but you,” Jinyoung whispered into your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I need you to know that.”

“I know,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

Jinyoung flexed his grip, holding you tightly. He wanted to lose himself inside you, until only the good parts of him remained. If there were any left. Jinyoung knew he was far beyond redemption.

Not long after midnight, the emptiness of the bed woke you. Adrenaline snapped you to attention, threatening to keep you awake for as long as it took to find Jinyoung and bring him back to bed.

“Jinyoung?” you called out, striding to the bedroom door and expecting to see him sulking on the couch.

But then you heard a noise in the bathroom and stopped, approaching the ensuite and opening the door.

There, you found Jinyoung on the tiled floor, sitting across from the toilet as he proceeded to cry his eyes out. You took one look at him and collapsed, falling to your knees and reaching for him.

“What happened?” you exclaimed, flinching when he batted your hands away.

“Nothing,” Jinyoung snapped, covering his red face as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

He looked on the outside the way you felt on the inside - like a total, hopeless wreck.

“What is it, Jinyoung?” you asked frantically, attempting to take his cheeks between your palms. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jinyoung shouted, his voice reverberating off the tiled walls. “I dreamt the love of my life threatened to leave me again and I had no one to blame but myself!”

You fell back as if you had been slapped across the face. Blinking through your own tears, you studied Jinyoung and how devastated he looked. The facade he paraded himself behind had shattered into pieces and you were determined to sift through the ruins.

“I won’t leave you, Jinyoung,” you whispered tenderly, cradling his face though he looked away. “You were right earlier. We can’t survive without each other. We never could.”

Jinyoung tilted his head back, resting against the wall, and merely shook from side to side as if his entire body was saying no. He blinked slowly, finally meeting your eyes, and hissed, “I don’t believe you.”

Bristling, you snapped, “Well, kiss my ass then.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise before the slightest smile took over his lips.

Rising to your feet, you stepped over him and into the shower, turning on the water before returning to him. “Get up.”

He peered up at you and said nothing.

“I said get up,” you huffed, reaching down and grabbing him by the shirt with both hands.

Jinyoung allowed you to pull him up and drag him into the shower, but he growled your name in surprise when the cold water hit his skin. You held him tightly to you beneath the running water, both of you quickly drenched while clothed, and assumed he would try to escape.

You had no idea what you were doing. Naturally you had assumed the water would be hot, given how damned expensive his penthouse was. Perhaps you just wanted a diversion, something to alleviate the heavy emotions threatening to suffocate you both.

Jinyoung fixed his gaze to your face, looking positively annoyed, and both of you fell into laughter at the same time at how ridiculous this was. You were relieved to see him smiling, heart fluttering when he leaned his forehead against yours and let his hands rest on your waist.

Overcome with your feelings for him, you fell forward, colliding into his chest and smashing your lips on his.

Time came to a screeching halt. Jinyoung cupped your face and smiled against your mouth, pleased by the urgency of your kisses.

He indulged your tongue slipping past his teeth for a moment and then he was on you, tangling his fingers in your hair while capturing you in a kiss full of hunger. His body pushed against yours, backing you into the wall roughly. You cried out at the contact, but he silenced you with his tongue.

“Fuck, why am I still so in love with you?” Jinyoung groaned.

“I love you,” was all you could say, tears stinging your eyes.

Jinyoung leveraged you against the tiled wall, slipping his hips between your legs. His next kiss was gentle, his eyes open to see the heat on your face.

Water mingled from the shower into your mouths, but all you could taste was him. Every slow, calculated tease of his tongue had you reeling. Your heart was beating at a steady but accelerated thrum, anticipating what would follow these passionate kisses.

“Jinyoung,” you finally whimpered, running out of patience.

“Shh,” he quieted you softly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Just you and me, baby. Always.”

You hummed when his lips drifted to your neck, sucking at the base of your shoulder. You gasped in a breath, slipping your arms beneath his to sink your fingers into his shoulders. He was going to unravel you, you could feel it.

“Don’t stop,” you told him breathlessly, letting your head fall back against the tile and hooking a leg over his hip.

Jinyoung marred your beautiful neck, sucking and biting. Without a word, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and hoisted you up, carrying you into the bedroom. You panted softly against his ear, heart racing with desire and expectation. You thought at any moment your chest would explode.

Jinyoung set you down on the bed beneath him, hovering over you and returning his kisses to your neck. Every smack of his lips was wet on your damp skin, droplets of water still streaming down your bodies from the impromptu shower. Jinyoung pried your hands from around him and stood upright, dragging your hips forward to the edge of the bed.

You exhaled nervously, slipping a hand into your hair. Your face was hot. Your pulse raced. With his simplest touches you were ready to shatter into a million pieces in his hands.

Jinyoung grasped the hem of your shirt and pushed it upward until you sat up and made it easier for the garment to slip over your head. He pressed another kiss to your lips, trying to calm your racing heart.

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his fingers in the band of your panties and brought them slowly down your legs. You couldn’t help but squirm beneath his heated gaze.

Jinyoung roamed his palms down your soft thighs, kissing and tonguing his way down the inside of your thigh before giving a swift bite. You squeaked slightly at the sharp pinch of his teeth, but your core clenched with delight, betraying you entirely.

He traveled up your body again, cupping your face and kissing you hard. You held him desperately and moaned into his mouth, grabbing his shirt and yanking it off of him. Jinyoung parted from your lips with a chuckle and stood again, gazing down at you naked and bare for him.

You watched him begin pushing down his pants, meeting your eyes and whispering, “I’ll go slow, baby.”

All you could do was nod and swallow the lump in your throat. You dared not say anything. Part of you was convinced that at any moment he would leave you wanting as he had done so many times before. Your mouth watered when he discarded his pants and his hard cock came into view.

Jinyoung finally kneeled on the bed, grasping the insides of your knees and lifting your legs how he saw fit, spreading you apart. You lay there like you forgot how to function. You were entirely at the mercy of the overwhelming need for him inside you.

You gripped handfuls of the sheets in your fists, losing your mind with restraint. Jinyoung guided himself to your entrance, pushing the head inside and watching you tense beneath him.

Jinyoung smirked at your sensitivity and grasped his cock, slipping his shaft between your folds and coating himself with your wetness. He watched your reaction as he teased your bundle of nerves with the tip of his length.

“Jinyoung, inside,” you keened, your body taut with desire. If he only knew how badly you throbbed and ached for him.

Jinyoung propped over you, chest-to-chest, and kissed your nerves - and impatience - away. He teased his tongue in your mouth and palmed over your breast, rubbing his cock between your slit.

Then, you felt his hips shift and he penetrated you slowly, filling you at an agonizing pace. You had no choice but to feel every inch of him bottoming out. You pressed your eyes closed and moaned for all to hear, legs bending beside his hips.

Jinyoung let out a groan, sheathing himself inside your warm cunt. His lips parted with a shaky breath.

He was so big. You couldn’t fathom how he fit so perfectly, so tight without ripping you open. That first thrust was always the best, making your body shudder with pleasure as you stretched to accept him.

Jinyoung was not faring any better than you. His lips were back on yours, but he breathed heavily. You were a vice on his cock, kneading and pulsing around him with need.

You gave him a nod that you were ready and Jinyoung lifted, propping himself on his fists and drawing back his pelvis to thrust into you. You bit your lip and let your hands lay at opposite sides of your head. You stared up at him in reverence, whimpering after another hard smack of his hips.

Jinyoung glanced down, growling at the sight of your pussy stuffed full of his thick cock. He fucked you at a steady pace, pushing himself in and dragging back out.

It felt so good, even better than you knew it would. Your soft whimpers and moans filled the room, music to Jinyoung’s ears.

He only touched where your bodies connected and the sight was erotic. You bent your knees and angled your hips to accept him deeper, sighing loudly in ecstasy. Jinyoung watched your breasts bounce each time his cock drove inside your tight pussy.

You wanted to smile. Jinyoung was making love to you.

He had a penchant for being rough, dominant, but there were times he could be gentle. Jinyoung loved taking pleasure from your body and fucking you to orgasm, but for now he took his time, wanting to savor the feeling of finally being one with you again.

“Deeper,” you coaxed, voice raspy. “Harder.”

Jinyoung finally tore his gaze away from his cock disappearing inside your cunt to look at the hooded lust on your face. He brought a hand to your throat and gripped snugly, not enough to put pressure, but certainly enough to snare your attention.

“Take what I give you,” he growled, stealing a kiss none too gently.

You held his wrist, walls tightening at his total dominance over your body, and nodded your obedience.

Jinyoung was about to lose his mind. He could hear the wet suck of your pussy each time he pushed his cock inside. He knew he couldn’t last much longer. The harder he went, the faster he would finish.

The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Given the weeks of tension and the years of distance, you knew this would be fast. You knew he would make short work of you.

Tears slipped from your eyes. From pleasure. From emotion. You cried for the years wasted without him and for how complete you finally felt now that he was buried inside you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jinyoung crooned, reaching up to wipe a tear with his thumb.

You clenched your fists in the sheets beside your head. “I missed you,” was all you could choke out.

“I know, baby,” he said, running his fingers over your nipple before giving your bouncing breast a hard squeeze. “You feel so good. So warm and so tight.”

You moaned. He never slowed his pace, never fell out of rhythm for even a moment. Every inch of his thick cock kept pumping deeper and deeper inside you. You didn’t want it to end. He truly owned you mind, body and soul.

Jinyoung lilted his head. “You gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

“Mm,” you hummed. By his tone, it was not a request.

Jinyoung braced a hand on your hip, pinning you to endure his quickening pace. You shuddered beneath him, throwing your head back as the mattress began to creak from his roughness. He pounded into you, hitting that sweet spot and driving you insane.

“Jinyou…,” was all you could manage.

Jinyoung leveraged both hands on your thighs, throttling into you harder and harder, fucking you good until stars burst behind your eyes. He glanced down to see where your bodies met, where his cock disappeared inside your swollen pussy.

“Come for me,” he said darkly.

You cried out for mercy, body jolting from the intensity of his thrusts. Another hard smack of his hips and you were over the edge, back arching on the bed as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Jinyoung pinned your arms, wary of your fingernails, and watched your satisfaction with a smirk. Your cunt clamped down on him with a vengeance, making his movements stutter.

The moment you regained some of your senses, you pushed his chest, wrestling him off of you and shoving him to his back. Jinyoung watched you in confusion before grinning with pride, grunting when you straddled him and took his painfully hard cock back inside you.

You watched his mouth gape open, the smallest of moans lingering in his throat. You anchored your hands on his firm chest and bounced your hips up and down.

“F-fuck,” Jinyoung stammered, surprised at how eagerly you rode him, how tightly your innermost walls gripped every inch of his length.

You flipped your hair behind your shoulders and ground yourself down on his cock, wanting him to climax harder than he ever had before. The lines of Jinyoung’s face were tense and furrowed. He was holding back with every shred of strength he had. His chest heaved for breath and his body bobbed on the mattress with how rough you fucked him.

Suddenly, Jinyoung sat up with you in his lap, grasping your waist. “Stay still,” Jinyoung choked against your neck.

“But…,” you started confusedly.

“I don’t want to come yet.”

You giggled and sighed, “I won’t hold it against you.”

Jinyoung released a nervous chuckle and the sound made you shiver. By the weakness in his voice, you knew he really was on the brink of blowing his load.

Grinning, you kept riding him, grappling with his hands as he tried to get ahold of you. You arched your hips, pumping your velvet walls on his cock.

“Say you love it,” you whispered darkly, yanking at his hair until his attention was on your face.

He didn’t hesitate to pant against your lips, “I fucking love it.”

“Come deep, baby,” you spoke even softer.

The familiar swell and throb of him almost made you climax again. With a twitch of his cock, Jinyoung lost himself to pleasure and began to fill you.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung cried out, moaning with every burst of cum that painted your insides.

You held him tighter, shivering at the rapid hot and cold of his breaths on your neck. He overlapped his arms around you, squeezing with all of his might while gritting his teeth.

Jinyoung gave a final groan, utterly spent, laying you on your back and pressing you into the mattress with the weight of his body.

You roamed your hands across his sweaty skin; anywhere and everywhere you could touch. He was scalding against the pads of your fingers, like a raging fire burned inside of him.

Jinyoung stayed sheathed inside and pinned you between his muscly arms, gracing tired, wet kisses to your lips. “Are you okay?” he asked tenderly.

You offered him a nod, staring into the glistening black of his eyes. He looked so fucked out, you wanted to grin with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction.

“Say something,” he rasped, searching your face for an answer.

You raked your nails down his back, stopping only when your hands landed on his ass. “Catch your breath,” you warned playfully.

Jinyoung’s eyes flickered with surprise and arousal. Then, he smirked.

You took his lip between your teeth and tugged, and your voice was husky when you purred, “The night’s just getting started...”

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a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

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