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love1other · 1 year ago

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My person // Rosé

Soulmate au

Genre - Fluff

Words - 2,991

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In a world where everyone is destined to have a soulmate, they possess the unique ability to share thoughts, views, and emotions telepathically. However, prior to meeting their soulmate, individuals have no control over what thoughts are sent to their partner.

—------------

No one mentioned how painful it was to be hit full force with someone else’s emotions and thoughts all at once. Of course, you've felt your soulmate's emotions or have heard their thoughts before but it was usually one or the other and wasn't as profound as it is now.

Yet here you are in the middle of a target feeling like your head is about to burst looking at the most beautiful person you've ever seen.

You recognize her, I mean how can you not, she’s part of the current biggest girl group. Beautiful blonde locks cascading down her back, and honey brown eyes staring back into your own. You never in a million years would have thought Rosé of Blackpink was your soulmate.

You had a pretty good educated guess that your soulmate was involved in the idol world, but couldn't tell exactly what. You’d get glimpses of your soulmates' thoughts and realize they didn’t speak just English. Not gonna lie at first you were worried they didn’t speak English at all but you soon started hearing more of your soulmates' thoughts in English which you were really grateful for.

You have a hunch that your soulmate realized you only spoke English so they started purposely thinking in English so when one of their thoughts got sent to you, you'd be able to understand.

When images got sent over you’d see that your soulmate was in what looked like a dance studio and/or recording booth. There was a while where every day that was all that you saw from your soulmate or you'd only hear about how tired they were or how they needed to get steps right. You used to worry a lot about your soulmate but in the last couple of years it had calmed down and was more about food, traveling, and animals.

‘Beautiful,’ I hear in my head, realizing it's my soulmate- it's Rosé. I feel a lot of emotions too, right now I'm so overwhelmed I can't exactly tell if it's my own or hers. I can tell it's the feeling of elation, adoration, fear, and gratitude.

The fear is most likely my own, I really was not expecting to meet my soulmate today, especially in a target of all places, or my soulmate being a freaking superstar.

“Hi,” I mumble breaking the silence and our staring contest. Rosé smiles and my breath catches in my throat with its beauty.

“Hello,” Rosé says still smiling at me.

“So uh what brings you here?” I ask, and then immediately cringing, ‘common Y/n what was that? Could you be any lamer?’ I think and hear Rosé giggle, I panic realizing I'm not shielding my thoughts like we were taught to in school for when we do eventually meet our soulmate.

Rosé goes to say something but is interrupted by who I assume is her manager. They speak in Korean and while I did pick up trying to learn Korean for my soulmate it's still not that good and I could only catch small things like “schedule time, show, soulmate,” and that's about it.

It looks like Rosé is about to walk away and I panic, she can't leave just yet, we’ve not been able to properly talk, or exchange any information so we can talk later. And my chances of running into her again like I did today is very low.

Before I can say something to get her to stop she turns back around and smiles her dazzling smile at me again.

“If you could give me a couple of minutes to talk to my manager?” She asks placing her hand on my arm.

Tingles erupt everywhere her hand touches and goes through my whole body making me noticeably shiver. I’m almost embarrassed until I see the same thing seems to happen to Rosé, as she drops her eyes from mine and stares at her hand on my arm after also having shivered.

I feel better knowing I affect her as much as she affects me.

After a few seconds, Rosé brings her eyes back to mine and before I get lost in them like a sap, I nod my head at her, knowing I'll sound stupid if I try to speak at the moment.

Smiling once more and gently squeezing my arm Rosé retreats and walks back motioning for her manager to follow her.

After casting me one last look over her shoulder she rounds into a different aisle.

—---------------------

Holy shit I found my soulmate!

On top of that, it’s Rosé Park from Blackpink, I must have done some really good shit in my past life for my luck to be so good.

But common Y/n you can’t act like an idiot in front of her again.

When she comes back I’ll actually talk, and introduce myself to her.

You got this Y/n, don’t think about the fact she has millions of fans who love her, and that she’s friends with other very attractive and better off celebrities…

Okay maybe I actually can’t do this, I’m just going to disappoint her, I’m a broke college student who has no life, and ha- before I continue my spiraling I see Rosé making her way back to me.

“Sorry about my manners earlier, I’m Rosé,” She says extending her hand to me. I grasp it and discover it's the gentlest hand I've ever held.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“I believe I saw a Starbucks in this place, would you like to go and talk over a drink?” Rosé asks still holding my hand.

“Yes!” I quickly say

“I mean yeah sure that sounds good,” I try again not wanting to sound as desperate as I actually am.

Rosé stares at me as I try not to blush from my quick outburst, and then looks down at our still-enjoined hands. I withdraw my own after realizing we’ve been holding hands for our whole interaction.

Giving me another smile Rosé mentions for me to follow her, and we make our way to the Starbucks.

…. I'm so doomed

—-------------------------

Neither of us has spoken yet, after having grabbed our drinks and sitting down at the small table in the corner.

“You know,” Rosé starts and I look up from my drink.“I was starting to get worried that I’d be one of the unlucky ones who don’t find their soulmates until their 30s,”

“Especially considering I’ve turned 26 and the most common time to find your soulmate is between 20 and 25.”

Rosé takes a sip of her drink and then continues.

“But I realized you were younger when a couple of months ago I received the view of you blowing out a cupcake that had 23 on it. And was glad that you at least had another two years for us to find each other before we passed the timeframe where it became worrisome.” Rosé ends chuckling softly.

“Oh,” I mumble processing what she just said.

“Is it uncommon for idols to find their soulmates before 25?”

“Surprisingly no; It's usually just kept a secret until we decide to retire or think it's a good time to be more laid back in the idol scene.”

“That's understandable.” I fold my hands and place them on the table. “We’ll have to keep it a secret as well right?” I ask.

Rosé looks a little sheepish as she nods her head yes.

It surprisingly doesn't bother me, I usually keep my private life to myself anyway, and I’m sure I'll be able to tell my parents who will also keep it a secret.

However, I do realize one problem. She lives in South Korea, I live here in the States, and she's also currently on tour, we’ll have to do a lot of long distance.

Before I can voice my concerns Rosé reaches across and puts her hand on top of mine. “Is that going to be an issue? I know it's pretty unconventional, and-” I stop her before she continues, “It's not an issue, but I did realize something.”

Rosé nods her head for me to continue.

“We’ll have to be long distance for a while, I live here and am currently in school. You live in South Korea and seem pretty busy with concerts and such.” I look back down at my drink before continuing.

“And well I’ve heard stories of people not being able to make the long-distance work and just end up hurting each other,” I take a deep breath. “I just don’t want to end up burdening you.”

“That won't happen.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because I’ve been dreaming about meeting my soulmate since I can remember and I won't let anything jeopardize us,” Rosé states gently squeezing my hand.

I look back up at Rosé and see the sincerity in her eyes.

"Okay," I whisper, gently turning my hand to interlace our fingers, our palms touching as we hold hands.

—---------------

Rosé and I talked for a few hours before she had to leave to catch her flight for her next concert. We exchanged numbers and socials so we could stay in touch of course.

The hug goodbye was the most bittersweet, I felt so safe and loved in her arms and to know it would be a while till I saw her again was just devastating, as was the emptiness I felt after she left.

We stayed in touch for the next 4 months of her on tour, we Facetimed, texted, and talked on the phone every single day, even with the different timezones that occurred we found a way.

We also got better at learning how to share specific thoughts, views, and emotions, with one another. I learned Rosé loved anything animal-related so I tended to share views of cute animals I saw around my campus.

Rosé would send views of the different foods she ate, as well as the view she saw during her concerts, it was an exhilarating yet terrifying view that made me realize that I possibly have stage fright.

I got to meet her members, they usually liked to tease her while she was on the phone with me, it was adorable how shy she got.

But each one of them would pop up during one of our facetimes and would talk to me and ask questions about my day, it was nice and made me feel less intimidated by them.

Even Jisoo who struggled more with English would attempt to communicate with me and it worked with her limited knowledge of English and mine of Korean, which I picked up learning again and she took to helping teach me.

Rosé and I learned so much about each other and I could feel myself falling in love with her. Yet I still missed her even with us talking every day, I miss her touch that I only felt for a short time, I missed the safety I felt in her arms, and I missed seeing her eyes and smile in person and not through a phone.

So I decided to fix it.

I booked a flight to South Korea for her groups encore concert and was able to snag a ticket to the show.

I contacted Jennie and asked her if she would be able to get me backstage so I could surprise Rosé and she excitedly agreed. However, she ended up going a bit overboard by upgrading my simple back middle row ticket to that of a front row ticket.

She also was able to upgrade my economy flight to first class, which I told her was not necessary but she brushed it aside and said I deserved it for making Rosé so happy and for the happiness I will bring her with the surprise.

—-----------

The flight to South Korea was long, partially because it was hard to sit still as I was so jittery. I land with enough time to check in at my hotel and then head to the venue to wait for them to open the doors.

I make it to my seat with a 30-minute wait period left before the girls start. I’m so nervous and excited that I fear I’ll lose the shield on my emotion and Rosé will feel it and question me. I’ve made sure to play it cool and not let her know I’m here which bothered me a lot having to lie to her, but it’ll be worth it in the end.

The show starts and everyone is amazing especially Rosé who my eyes have been on the whole time. She looks and sounds absolutely immaculate. After a few songs, they walk to the front stage, introduce themselves, and talk about the show.

Rosé is to the left of me and finally seeing her up close after so long has butterflies going crazy in my stomach. Gods she is gorgeous and I question every day how I got so lucky to be her soulmate.

Rosé finishes talking and now Lisa has started. I’ve worn a mask so as to not be immediately recognized but I think now's the time.

I usually make sure I don’t send Rosé any images during her shows but this is the only way I can think of to get her attention. I send her exactly what I’m seeing right now, which is her in all her glory.

Rosé seems to zone out for a second and then immediately looks to the section I’m in, I take off my mask as the fans around me are screaming her name.

Finally, we make eye contact and it’s like it’s just us in this arena that’s filled with thousands.

Emotions rush through me: surprise, glee, awe, and adoration.

Reality of where we are hits and I notice that Jennie is now talking and seems to be nearing the end and they’ll have to go back to performing.

‘I’m excited to see the rest of the show, I know you’ll kill it.’ I send telepathically to her as Jisoo introduces the next song they are going to perform.

Rosé gives me the biggest smile possible and sends me a wink before going to her place for the song.

The fans next to me go absolutely crazy afterward and I don’t blame them, because holy shit her wink left me in a daze.

—————-

Throughout the show, Rosé would make as much eye contact with me as possible and was definitely showing favoritism to my section.

The other girls caught on to my being here, Jennie or Rosé having told them, and they would also come over a lot to wave and send me knowing smiles.

The encore was my favorite, during As If It’s Your Last, Rosé came and sat down right in from of me and kept eye contact, it’s like I was being serenaded.

‘Wait there and a guard will come and escort you to the back.’ Rosé says as she and the others are leaving the stage.

I do just that, I sit in my seat and recall the look in her eyes when she first noticed me. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it or this show.

After about 15 minutes of waiting a guard and the manager I saw with Rosé with when we first met came and took me to the back.

It’s very chaotic, with people running around and others celebrating, we make our way past everyone and make it to what I assume is their dressing room.

I go to knock but Kim, Rosé’s manager who had introduced herself, opens the door and says I can just go in.

Walking in I was not expected to be immediately tackled into a hug, from the tingles erupting all over me I knew it was Rosé.

“This is the best surprise ever!”

In response, I just wrap my arms around her and hug back with just as much enthusiasm.

We stay like that for a while. I relish the feeling of safety and care that her arms bring me.

“I’ve missed you,” I say leaning back to see her but still keeping my arms around not wanting to let go anytime soon.

Rosé reaches her hand down and interlaces our fingers “I’ve missed you too.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Well I was able to convince my professors to let me finish the last of my assignments and exams online for the rest of this term, and then I was thinking of applying to the international university here.” I squeeze Rosé’s hand gently, “so for a while I suppose.”

Rosé then does something unexpected, she leans forward and places her lips on mine oh so gently. I stand still in surprise for just a moment, my heart racing, before I gently placed my hands on her hips, pulled her closer, and eagerly kissed back with passion and intensity.

Rosé reaches up and cradles my face, her tongue running across my bottom lip asking for entrance, which I abide parting my lips with a content sigh. I get my first taste of her and I’m overwhelmed completely, her taste, her smell, and the feeling of her pushed up against me has my heart doing summersaults.

Before we can continue there's a cough heard and we pull apart both lightly panting. I don’t yet acknowledge the person who coughed I just stare at Rosé, lips slightly parted and swollen, her gorgeous eyes dilated and screaming with want.

I can’t hold it in anymore.

“I love you.”

Rosé gasps as she searches my eyes before rushing forward and kissing me again. There's an annoyed grunt from somewhere but I don’t care, I’m kissing my soulmate, my love, my person.

#gxg #blackpink rose #park roseanne #rosé #blackpink imagines #kpop

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nemukurastudio · 7 months ago

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How would the characters react to someone who's pretty touchy, like someone who really likes physical touch? (with consent of course), and sometimes being a bit teasing/overstimulating with their touches?

(I'm just very physically affectionate ;-;)

Ansel

This can depend. Ansel in his waking life was completely fine with any amount of physical affections even though his love language isn't physical touch. He was mostly used to people who would sling their shoulder around him if they were his height or having people link arms with him. Now he's dead, it's a bit different due to the lack of physical touching he does with someone. He relishes any physical content and it won't bother him much at all. If he's had just way too much, he can simply phase off.

Rosé

As someone who’s love language is physical touch, she’s probably the most comfortable with being touched a lot of the time. Though funny enough she could also be the first one to be tuckered out if touched for a very long time. Her introverted nature’s like that. She'll feel guilty and sheepishly say she's had enough or try to be smooth and simply just squirm away from the touch.

Dime

He may not look like he’d be annoyed or would hate it but he doesn’t mind them at all. It’s very unlikely he’s even going to say he’s had enough touching. You’re better off paying attention to his actions than his words. If he seems to be shifting a bit more than just to be comfortable, he’s probably had enough.

Colin

Colin’s pretty touchy to begin with so he wouldn’t entirely mind if he was subjected to a lot of touching. Even if he’s tuckered out, he endures it pretty long. If he’s really had enough then he’d say something. He has a similar thing with Mace where he can be a little invasive with personal space but he’s quick to remove himself if you don’t like it. He only has issues with a personal bubble if it’s a stranger around him anyways so having you being touchy isn’t a problem.

Side characters are below the cut!!

Mace

Mace has a problem and it’s called having no personal space. If they’re able to just tackle you when they see you, you have freedom to do the same. You may have to be careful around their affection cause they’re reciprocal and it hurts a bit. One hug from you is a bear hug in return from them. If they've had enough, small warning, they will and might push you.

Sage

Oddly enough, despite Sage’s extroverted nature, he’s not the most physically versed for a long period of time. This was mainly cause of having to deal with Mace growing up and he was mostly the target of their torment so he got and gets tuckered out easily after an overwhelming amount of touching. He's still be polite if he's had enough touching.

Saffron

Opposite to Sage, Saffron can handle more of the touching even with Mace growing up. This was mainly cause she did have good control of them and when she had enough she was able to tell them to stop pretty easily despite their rambunctiousness. She'd be gentle but firm if she's had enough of touching or simply just gently push you away.

#yours truly vn #letter from you #about ansel #about dime #about rośe #about colin #about mace #about saffron #about sage

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cleverhottubmiracle · 9 days ago

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norajworld · 9 days ago

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ellajme0 · 9 days ago

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chilimili212 · 9 days ago

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oliviajoyice21 · 9 days ago

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chaoticor · 2 years ago

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some BOB posting today!!

- with his background of being a noble, Bob knows money and has lots of heaps of it, disconnected to the Blue Pegasus. Though he ahs used personal funds for the guild since the beginning, he doesn't need to anymore since his guild generates wealth on its own now. The Ainley’s claim to fame is the wine vineyard they own and tend to and their wine, Dew Drop Vineyeard. Dew Drop Vineyard is an excellent Firoian wine, known for flavor and the main advertisement is that it’s made from “morning magic”.

- Dew Drop Vineyard is the wine used in Blue Pegasus as well as other places around. It’s considered a high caliber wine. They do red, whites, rosé — a lot. Their white sparkling wine is what Bob uses in his famous Mimosas.

- Bob handles the Ainley estate himself as well as the Vineyard operations and Blue Pegasus. He had assistants for the second two, the main assistant for him at Blue Pegasus right now is Hibiki.

- Bob is not a big fan of Fiore’s government. A lot of that is the current political situation post war. In my main verse for all muses, the war was an invasion of Fiore only since Zeref’s target was in Fiore. Also, the Grand Magic Games and what it really was being revealed did not sit well with Bob, as the monarhcy makes these huge decisions which affects all the populace and uses its magic citizens without their knowledge. This is not a well known fact that Bob has no love for the monarchy, as he has not told anyone what he thinks but quietly pokes and prodes to close confidants.

- blue pegasus also has uhhh five christina’s coming....some being rebuilt post-war. nothing too closely to look at!!

- speaking of, his position as nobility is part of the reason why the firoian government has allowed bob to have Literal War Machines for his guild (despite the no guild war rule). he used his own influence in politics with the right nobles enough that no one really bats an eye at what he’s doing.

#secret keeper: hc #i will elaborate on some more things later but here is a basis of things ive been thinking and im finally writing #i will post another BP hc soon

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Six (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: We find out what happened to Rosé, and the Games continue.

A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible feedback on chapter five!! It made me so happy to see and I’m so glad how people enjoyed it. I’d really appreciate hearing your thoughts on this chapter as well!

Denali chokes back her scream as Rosé collapses, not wanting to give away their position. All the teams have targets on their back now, the danger even higher. And Rosé is motionless on the ground.

“Rosé, wake up. Please wake up.” She shakes her shoulder, mind running through a hundred possibilities. It can’t be because of the rain, or Denali would be affected too. Probably not poison either; they’ve been eating the same things. Whatever it is, she needs Rosé awake. Denali taps her cheek, dimly registering that Rosé shouldn’t be this warm. Her green eyes slowly blink open, and Denali loses herself in them for a second.

“What…happened?”

“I think you fainted. Or…” Denali trails off when she smells smoke. Thick gray clouds of it blot the sky, and where there’s smoke, there’s… “Fire. Oh, shit. Fire.”

A tower of flames writhes toward them, licking at the trees and filling the air with the scent of burnt pine. The fire is too large to be natural–figures the Gamemakers didn’t even wait five minutes after their announcement to unleash something.

Denali scrambles for their stuff, tugging Rosé’s arm. “We gotta go, we gotta go now.”

Rosé winces as she staggers to her feet.

“Can you run on that leg?” Denali asks.

“Do we have another option?”

It’s a fair point, and the flames are close enough to feel their heat. She puts her head down and runs, Rosé trailing behind her. They need to find shelter, somewhere safe enough for Rosé to rest. They’re not far from the mountain, and there has to be a cave or crevice they can hide in. They just have to get up there.

They sprint across a valley with the fire just feet behind them, and the only good thing is that it protects them from other tributes–no one can attack them with a wall of fire in the way. They trudge through weeds and gnarled roots on the mountain passes, Denali wordlessly catching Rosé when she stumbles, beating out the dying fire. A slit opens between two rocks, so small Denali’s trained eyes hardly see it. It’s big enough inside for both of them, and Denali’s shoulders loosen slightly. They should be safe for a few days, probably more if she disguises the entrance better. There’s even a stream nearby.

Rosé collapses against the wall with a gasp. Her face is ghostly pale and twisted in pain, her body drenched in sweat as she trembles.

The pain probably made her faint, but Denali thinks of how hot she was, and her heart sinks with what she doesn’t want to acknowledge. Their first aid kit didn’t have antibiotics, or a needle and thread—the Gamemakers wouldn’t make things that easy—so Denali had just rinsed the wound and wrapped it tight. Maybe it wasn’t enough.

Denali kneels beside her cautiously. “I need to look at your leg.”

“No.” Rosé clamps her hands over the wound with a wince. Denali isn’t sure if Rosé doesn’t want to admit that something’s wrong, or if she’s afraid of getting medical help from Denali. Denali isn’t a doctor by any means, and part of her wants to leave Rosé alone, pretend everything is fine, but she can’t.

“Rosé, you fainted.”

“Only a little,“ Rosé mumbles. "It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

There’s a hint of fear in her voice, and Denali softens. “I just need to check it, okay? I’ll go slow. And I used to hunt, remember? I’ve seen dead animals a lot worse than your leg.”

“Denali Foxx, did you just compare me to a dead animal?” Rosé asks in mock outrage. Her hands ease off her leg, Denali’s humor relaxing her like she hoped it would.

“Well, let’s hope we can avoid the dead part,” Denali says. “The animal part was spot-on, though.” She carefully moves Rosé’s pants down, grateful for her undershorts because Rosé’s bare skin is not something Denali can handle right now. She unwinds the bandage, her stomach churning once the wound is uncovered, red and inflamed and oozing at the edges. Denali knows, and the red lines streaking up Rosé’s thigh confirm it.

Blood poisoning.

“Oh,” Rosé says quietly. “Fuck.”

—

“Okay, don’t panic.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one panicking,” Rosé says. She sits against the cave wall, slowly getting her breath back while Denali paces.

Denali stops, wringing her hands together. “I saw leaves that draw out infection by the stream. I’m gonna get them. Stay here.”

“Not like I can go anywhere.” Her leg is throbbing, and moving will only make things worse.

Denali grimaces and heads out, desperate for a purpose, for something to help. Rosé knows the leaves aren’t enough to fix her infection; she needs real medicine from the Capitol. She has no idea what it would cost a sponsor to send it, because that kind of medicine isn’t a possibility in District 12, where the default prescription is drink some whiskey and sleep it off. If something’s really wrong, you usually don’t make it.

Denali rushes back in with a bundle of green leaves, crushing them up and making a paste with water. It’s not enough, but it can’t hurt, and Rosé won’t upset Denali when she’s trying so badly to help.

Denali’s movements are frantic, nothing like the measured motions for stringing her bow, and she almost drops the paste.

“Hey,” Rosé says. “Let me put it on. Your hands are shaking.”

“Yeah, because I care about you, you idiot.”

Rosé would make a snappy comment, but she sees how much Denali is shaking, how her eyes are wide in genuine fear. Denali really cares about her, and Rosé has a rush of affection for her.

Rosé gently takes the mixture from Denali. “I’ll do it, okay?”

Denali laughs bitterly. “You’re the one who’s–”

Rosé cuts her off before she can say how bad things are. “I’m gonna be fine, okay? This isn’t how I’m going out. I’m not going out at all, but if I do, I’m going out fighting, with my sword in my hand.”

Denali nods shakily.

“I’ve got some of the steadiest hands in the district,” Rosé continues, hoping to soothe Denali’s fear. “Cake-decorating hands, baby.” It slips out before she can stop it, and any worries are stopped by the fact that she should be saying this, should sell their romance for the camera. But none of this conversation has been for that; every part of it was real for Rosé; her need to soothe Denali, take away her fears, her insistence on making it through this. Denali must know it’s real too, because she’s smiling now, and she actually laughs, Rosé’s heart lightening at the sound.

“Too bad you can’t pipe icing at the tributes,” Denali snorts.

“Laugh all you want. I guarantee I could take someone out with a piping bag,” Rosé says. Her own laugh is strangled by muttered curses as the paste stings on her wound, but swearing is all she’ll allow herself. She won’t whimper like a baby in front of the Capitol, and she won’t add to Denali’s worry.

“What was it like, working at the bakery?” Denali asks, throwing her a line, a distraction, and Rosé takes it.

“It was…it was fun, really. My dad did the cakes, my mom did the breads. Me and Jan and Lagoona helped.” She rolls her eyes and smiles. “We mostly just played and tried not to get in trouble. When we were a little older, we’d make the cookies together, and my dad started showing me how to decorate cakes when I was ten. I still remember the first one I did that was good enough to sell. White icing with little pink and yellow roses. He let me put it in the window and everything.”

Rosé tries not to think of those days, of how happy and carefree they were, because it only makes the fact that days like that are now hard to come by hurt that much worse. But maybe it’s okay to tug memories over her like a blanket. She remembers running around the kitchen playing tag with her sisters, their father shaking his head fondly. She remembers the smell of yeast, watching her mother knead the bread over and over, mesmerized by the rhythms. She remembers the squishy piping bag in her hand, her father guiding her along, how he always said what a good job she did.

On her good days, when she leaves the house, she goes right to the bakery, soaking in the sweetness as golden and warm as the pastries her father makes. If she’s really up for it, she’ll even grab a bag and decorate a cake, the world fading away as she makes flowers out of butter and sugar.

“That’s really nice.” Denali smiles as she hands Rosé the bandages from the first aid kit.

“Yeah.” Rosé winds it around her leg, grateful to have the wound hidden again. It’s fine. She’s fine. She just has to outlast it until she and Denali are the only ones left. They can still win. “We should have a victory cake after we win.”

Denali leans in with the medical tape, her touch gentle as she tapes the bandage in place. She’s so close that their foreheads almost touch, and Rosé stares at Denali’s focused brown eyes, all the air knocked out of her lungs.

“Thanks,” she manages.

“No problem.” Denali smiles. “And I’m holding you to that victory cake.”

—

Denali tries, as hours blur into days. She tries to stay hopeful, to not let Rosé see how worried she is. Denali shouldn’t even be this upset, this stressed; Rosé is the one with her leg cut open and an infection burning through her, yet she’s calm and Denali can’t sleep because she’s afraid something might happen to Rosé while she does. She knows the odds, knows how bad things are, but she tries to ignore it. She tells herself it’s natural to worry about her teammate, but she hasn’t been this worried about someone since her father died and her mom couldn’t get out of bed. She hasn’t been this close to anyone since then either, but being thrown into the arena like this, trusting each other to survive, has brought them closer than Denali could have imagined. She’s grown to really like being around Rosé, hearing her laughter, watching her eyes soften when she tells stories about the bakery. She doesn’t want to lose her.

Losing Rosé would put Denali at worse odds, anyone can see that. But Denali doesn’t see her as just an ally anymore, and losing her would be losing a friend. A friend who’s been with her through the arena, who understands feelings Denali can’t even put into words. She won’t lose her. She can’t lose her. If anyone is stubborn enough to outlast an infection, it’s Rosé, and Denali lets the thought give her hope.

“How are you feeling?” Denali asks when Rosé wakes up.

“Fine.”

Denali touches her forehead gently, Rosé’s breath hitching at the touch. “You’re still pretty warm. I found some painkillers in the first aid kit. Nothing major, but they can’t hurt.”

Rosé nods, accepting the pills with some water. She becomes a bit more herself when they kick in, her eyes losing the shadows of pain and lightening up. Denali hopefully offers her breakfast, but Rosé shakes her head.

“Not hungry.”

Denali winces. It’s not a good sign.

“Not an option. If we’re gonna win, you need to eat.” Denali digs through their bags again, offering Rosé dried meat and apples like she didn’t refuse them five seconds ago. They need something light, something easy on her stomach. “If we had soup, do you think you could eat that?”

“Probably, but do you think soup is just gonna drop out of the sky–”

Something clangs at the mouth of the cave, and Denali finds a silver canister attached to the parachute. She unscrews the top and smells savory broth and vegetables. Clearly someone agrees that Rosé needs to eat, and she thanks their mystery sponsor.

Rosé snorts. “I’ll be damned.”

—

Soup keeps arriving, and Rosé keeps fighting. She does her best to eat, to keep her composure so Denali doesn’t worry. Denali’s only getting snatches of sleep, every second focused on Rosé, and Rosé doesn’t want to give her too much cause to worry.

Aside from the dull pain and the fever clinging to her like fire, it’s not so bad in the cave. It’s like their own little world, far away from the arena’s dangers. Just her and Denali, together like at the Training Center. Denali peeks her head out each night to hear the anthem and see if anyone’s died. So far, just the man from District 9. There’s still five tributes left, and Rosé knows something has to draw them together eventually. They both hate sitting here, being helpless, wanting so badly to go out and end things, but they can’t. Rosé can’t even sit up without getting so dizzy she almost loses whatever’s in her stomach. It’s her fault they’re stuck here, and she burns with guilt that she might cost them the win with her stupid infected leg. If someone would send the medicine, she could manage. Her leg would still hurt, sure, but she could power through long enough to get her and Denali home. Why hasn’t anyone sent it yet? She’s grateful for the soup, but surely someone in the Capitol can afford the medicine, and surely they would have sent it by now. What are they waiting for?

Maybe because Rosé is just laying on the cave floor like a baby, and they want to see her do something that’s worth the money they’d spend. Proof she’s worth dipping into their pockets. Deep down, she thinks they want more of the love story, more reason to watch them. Would kissing Denali be enough? Announcing her love? It’s terrible to do that to Denali, though, terrible to use her to stay alive. We’d be using each other, Denali said ruefully, but this feels like too much.

So Rosé talks instead.

She talks about the bakery, about the time Jan tried her own cake recipe and the thing was burnt outside and raw inside, or the time Rosé and Lagoona kept flicking flour at each other until they looked like ghosts. Denali laughs and laughs, and Rosé is grateful she’s let these stories out, grateful to share them with someone besides her sisters. She can’t remember the last time she talked this much, and even if it exhausts her, she keeps going. Because if she’s talking, Denali knows she’s okay.

“What was it like? Learning the woods stuff from your dad,” Rosé asks, hoping Denali doesn’t notice how her words slur.

Denali grabs a piece of cloth she’d cut from the sleeping bag, dips it in water, and rests it on Rosé’s forehead. She gets water from the stream each morning, and though it’s barely cool anymore, it’s heaven against Rosé’s hot skin, and she sighs in relief.

“It was…quiet,” Denali says finally. “Peaceful. He was always in the mines, so it was the only time I got to be with him, really. He didn’t talk much, but he was there, and it was enough. He would show me all the flowers and plants and tell me these rhymes about what was safe to eat. And he showed me how to use his bow. It was bigger than me the first time we practiced.” Denali smiles, and Rosé does too, heart warming at the image of a tiny Denali holding up a bow twice her size. “It felt so right in my hands,” Denali continues. “He drew targets on the trees until I got them all, and then he’d have me aim for certain leaves. Everything I can do with my bow is from him.”

“He taught you well.”

“Yeah. I–sometimes I wish he could’ve seen how good I got with it. I wish he could’ve seen me win,” Denali says sadly.

“He’d be proud of you. I know it,” Rosé says, touched that Denali trusts her this much, that she’s shown this part of her.

There’s a lightness in her eyes Rosé doesn’t think she’s seen since Denali was a kid–the kind of lightness Denali was rarely without as a kid. It was why Rosé had sneaked cookies in her bag years ago, trying anything to ease the sadness. And being with Denali now, closer than they were as kids, closer than Rosé has been with anyone besides her family, makes her ache to do it again. To be there for Denali’s pain and sadness, and do her best to lighten the load. To maybe let Denali do the same for her. Because all this–spending time with Denali, being on her team–feels so right. They’re the perfect team, and they’re both going to win, and go home. And if–when–they do, Rosé won’t lose Denali again.

When she first got home after her Victory Tour, she spent most days in her room, tired yet fighting sleep because of what she might see, the excitement of her return crushed by the weight of what she had to do for it. She was cold to her sisters when they tried to help, cold to Denali when she tried talking to her. She isn’t proud of it, and while she fixed things with her sisters, she never formally did with Denali–she just let them drift, though she forced herself to work extra hard when she mentored Denali. Surviving the Games could have reunited them, but Rosé let it push them further apart, because it was something she didn’t want to share with anyone–especially not someone she cared about. But she’s sharing it with Denali now, and she’s grateful to. And when they go home, she won’t let them drift. She’ll work to keep Denali in her life, to go outside more, to appreciate what she has.

“Do you want more soup?” Denali asks, once more desperate to help.

“No.”

“Just a little more?” Denali pleads. “Please? For me?“

Denali’s eyes are too much for Rosé. “Anything for you,” she says, and even in the cave, she can see Denali blush. She eats three more spoonfuls, then turns to Denali. “Can you do something for me now?”

“Anything.”

“Get some sleep, Denali. Please. I’ll be okay, I swear,” she says before Denali can protest. “You need to rest.”

“But–”

“I have my sword. I’ll wake you if anything happens. I’ll be fine for a few hours.” Rosé fixes the sternest look she can muster, and Denali finally gives in.

“Don’t let me sleep too long,” she says, slipping into the sleeping bag. Her breaths even out in minutes, and it tugs at Rosé’s chest how much Denali is exhausting herself to look after her. The stress of the arena slowly leaves Denali’s face in her sleep, and she could be nine again, curled up in her sleeping bag for a sleepover with Jan. The determined kid who used to protect other kids from the class bully and beat the older boys in races during recess. The determined woman who’s been there for her since the reaping, who didn’t give up on her and helped her fight again. Who makes her want to live again.

Rosé grips her sword tightly as she watches Denali sleep, and when Denali lets out a little sigh, it occurs to Rosé that if she were to confess her love, it might not be a complete lie.

—

Hours after Denali wakes up, things take a turn for the worse. Rosé is too weak to feed herself, and turns her head away when Denali offers her soup. Her skin is so hot she instantly dries out the cloth Denali puts on her forehead. She slips in and out of consciousness, her sleep full of whimpers for her sisters, and Denali vows not to mention it to her.

“I’m sorry,” Rosé croaks. Her eyes are closed, and Denali isn’t sure she’s fully awake.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Denali says, trying to keep the worry from her voice.

“Your mom’s…necklace,” Rosé says. “We nev-never went back.”

Right. They were supposed to go back that morning, but the announcement came, and Rosé collapsed, and then the fire arrived. Denali had forgotten about it in the chaos.

“It’s not your fault,” Denali says quietly. “That fire came, remember? We couldn’t have gone back anyway.” She bites her lip. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You got hurt saving me, if I–”

“Don’t,” Rosé says. “Not your fault.” She wheezes, the talking taking too much out of her. “Maybe you should go on without me.”

“Not a chance in hell,” she growls so fiercely that Rosé doesn’t even attempt to argue.

Rosé grunts as she reaches for her jacket, and her shaky fingers unclasp the lion pin and offer it to Denali.

Denali’s heart sinks. “Rosé, I can’t take this, it’s your sister’s.”

“I promised Jan I would bring it back to her. Denali, if I can’t make it, I need you to make it. I need you to bring this home to her,” Rosé says seriously.

Rosé would never give away the pin–the promise–unless she was really worried about being unable to keep it, and Denali blinks back tears of helplessness.

“No–no. Don’t think that, Rosé. You’ll bring it to her yourself,” Denali says. She can’t even consider bringing this pin to Jan, can’t even consider that Rosé won’t be with her. The past weeks with Rosé have only left Denali certain that she never wants to be apart from her again.

“Just in case. Promise?”

Denali knows Rosé won’t take no for an answer, and she doesn’t want to upset her. “I promise.”

“Good.” She sleeps again, and the pin sits like lead in Denali’s pocket.

—

By night, Rosé’s forehead burns Denali’s hand. Denali helplessly watches her toss and turn, like she’s trying to get the heat off her. God, Denali was so stupid. She seriously kidded herself that Rosé would magically get better. Rosé’s held out longer than most, but blood poisoning isn’t something you get better from–not without serious medicine.

Denali’s no stranger to pain or misery or suffering–her own or someone else’s. But she watches Rosé sweat and shiver and she can’t bear it. Rosé used to give them piggyback rides even when they were too big, hiding the backache with a smile. When Jan forgot her homework, Rosé ran home and back, handing Jan the work just as the bell rang. When an older boy kept bothering Lagoona, Rosé threw herself between them, firmly standing her ground until he left her alone. She was a hero to her sisters, to Denali, though now Denali knows Rosé isn’t so much a hero as a woman who’s made mistakes and is just trying to survive. Rosé should be home with her family, piping beautiful roses on cakes. Not thousands of miles away, suffering on this hard cave floor. It hurts Denali to even look at her. It should be Denali trembling with fever and pain. Would be Denali if Rosé hadn’t taken that hit for her. This is all Denali’s fault. How could she spend so long preparing for a fight and be too slow when the attack finally came? All the dreams of them going back home, of inviting Rosé over for breakfast, of taking her on walks in the woods, are slipping through Denali’s hands.

No. She’s not losing Rosé. She turns the lion pin over in her hand. What had Rosé called it in her interview? A symbol of love and home, Denali recalls, and more tears sting in her eyes. This is the one of the most important things in the world to Rosé, and she gave it to Denali, wanted to give her this piece of love and home. She trusts Denali to bring it home if she can’t. She trusts Denali, period, when she hasn’t trusted anyone in years. And Denali trusts her. Trusts her in the arena, trusts her in this cave, trusts her to talk about her family with. Rosé isn’t going home without this pin, and Denali isn’t going home without Rosé. There has to be a way to get the medicine. What if she–

Rosé coughs, her brow furrowing in pain.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Denali says quietly, for Rosé’s benefit as much as her own.

Rosé stills, opening glassy eyes. “Jan?” she asks hoarsely, and Denali’s stomach drops. The fever is high enough to mess with her brain—what if it’s too late even if she can get the medicine?

Denali hesitates, heart in pieces, wondering if she should play along or tell the truth. If she plays along, Rosé might get upset after realizing she’s lying. But denying it might upset her even more, and Denali can’t hurt her.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s Jan,” Denali says. She strokes Rosé’s hair and hums the lullaby Rosé hummed to Finn, and it’s not quite right, but it soothes her anyway.

For a few minutes at least, and then she stubbornly opens her eyes.

“You’re not Jan,” Rosé says, and before Denali can wonder if she’s mad, she smiles. “You’re Denali.”

Denali blushes. “Yeah, I am.”

Rosé looks at her in wonder, a shy smile on her face. “Denali, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

Blood roars in Denali’s ears, her heart racing. What the hell is Rosé doing? She must still be delirious, she doesn’t know what she’s saying–

“I’ve loved you for a while,” Rosé continues, her eyes clearing a little, her voice sincere. “And you’re so special to me that I want you to know. I want everyone to know.”

And then Denali understands. Rosé has mustered up one last plan to get the medicine. A love declaration on live television. If this can’t get a sponsor’s sympathy, nothing can, and Denali has to play along. This is the game, it’s what they agreed to, so why does it feel so real, like at the interview? Why does part of Denali want it to be real? It’s just a game, she tells herself.

“I…I know, Rosie. I know you love me.” Why can’t she say I love you back? Rosé’s damn life is on the line, but the words won’t come out. But maybe she doesn’t need words. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Rosé breathes.

Denali holds her breath as she leans down to meet her lips. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t imagine this before. She was eleven when she realized she wanted to kiss girls, and so what if her fantasy kissing partner had red hair and green eyes? It was just her imagination. Nothing real. And Denali doesn’t know if it’s real now, but she’s doing it.

Rosé’s lips are fiery, but soft and delicate. Denali knows this has to be believable, so she runs one hand along Rosé’s arm, the other stroking her sweaty hair. If Denali’s heart was racing before, it’s running a sprint as the kiss deepens, and she feels more alive than she has since the fight in the clearing. It’s been so long since she’s kissed anyone, touched them so tenderly, and she wants to do it again and again. But she shouldn’t enjoy it this much, because it’s just a game, right?

Right?

She doesn’t have time to think, because a clanging at the cave mouth announces the arrival of their saving grace.

—

Denali tears the lid off the container. Inside, there’s a syringe, a needle and thread, bandages, and painkillers. Denali grabs the syringe, whispers an apology to Rosé, and sticks it into her arm.

Rosé, falls asleep seconds later, exhausted from the talking and the kiss. Denali isn’t sure if that’s good or bad. She assumes the medicine is a fast-acting Capitol creation, since she only needs one syringe. But how fast? Minutes? Hours? She doesn’t know how much longer they can hide here before the Gamemakers force them out.

Denali sighs. She might as well stitch the wound properly while Rosé is asleep. For the first time in the cave, her sleep is peaceful, and Denali feels a rush of gratitude. The lines of infection are already fading, and she stitches the wound with new hope, tinged with anger. All that work, all that suffering, for one little syringe. How could the Capitol have something that practically works miracles and make it so hard to get?

“Rosé McCorkell, you better wake up soon,” Denali says. “Because if you die on me after all this, I swear I’ll bring you back just to yell at you! I–I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life! I’ll–”

“‘M pretty sure I’d be haunting you, since I’m the dead one.” A wide grin crosses Rosé’s face as her eyes ease open.

“Rosie, you’re–”

“I’m okay. I feel like shit, but I’m okay.”

Relief slams into Denali, filling the cave with joy, and she cups Rosé’s cheek gently, feeling that she’s alive and okay. Denali isn’t going to lose her.

“Thank you, Denali,” Rosé whispers, and Denali knows how much she means it.

“We look out for each other, remember?”

Rosé nods as Denali helps her sit up. They eat the last of their food, making a plan to wash up at the stream, find food and water, and re-enter the arena.

Five tributes. That’s all that’s between them and the train home.

“One more thing.” Denali carefully re-pins the lion on Rosé’s jacket, ignoring how the touch reminds her of the kiss–just a game, just a game. She’ll have to deal with the kiss at some point, but not now. “Let’s go. We’ve got a game to win.”

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #hunger games au #angst #hurt/comfort #ever in your favor #athena2 #tw blood #tw injury #concrit welcome

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tiaragqueen · 6 years ago

Text

Bun Bun: Prologue

Chapter 1

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[Edited]

“In the beginning, some people try to appear that everything about them is "in black and white," until later their true colours come out.” - Anthony Liccione

“The execution shall begin!”

It was such a simple sentence; one that most people wouldn’t think twice about. In fact, many of them enjoyed watching the executioner beheaded criminals' heads. It was like a personal amusement for them; something that invoked satisfaction and, possibly, sadistic pleasure. The criminals' expressions varied from one person to another. Some terrified, some wailing, some struggling, and some emotionless.

You didn’t judge people's preferences, though. Had you were in their position, you would certainly get the same satisfaction from seeing an evildoer disappear from this world. It wouldn’t change much. Crimes would definitely still exist - it was an intrinsic part of life and essential for laws to stay active because, without crimes, the police force would be useless - but at least it would discourage one person from acting on them.

But this was different. Someone that you knew, someone that you were more than acquainted with, someone that you used to love, was the convict today. Watching the person, who had been an important figure in your life, being beheaded wasn't the same as watching an ordinary criminal.

Your palms were clammy underneath the white gloves, and you contemplated the possibility of returning to the castle without anyone noticing. The execution had yet to start, but you were already dreading it more than listening to the court's decision regarding his death penalty. You were supposed to be anticipating this. Heck, you had even promised to your parents that you would attend. For the first time in twenty years, you were about to witness a cruel death with your very own eyes.

So why were you hesitating now? Did you still have some feelings for him?

No, you shook your head. Of course not. It was impossible. Ridiculous. Any lingering sentiment that you had for him died the moment you discovered just how malicious he could be. The betrayal and disbelief had stained the rose-colored lens who your naïve self had adopted during earlier years due to the circumstances you were in. Safe and sound. No crime or rumors ever reached your innocent ears, and your parents had made sure that you wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the executions that occurred regularly.

You had been in the dark for as long as you could remember. And had he didn’t show how terrifying an ordinary person – a gentleman – could be, then you would have lived up your day believing that the world was all rainbows and sunshine. Because why would you be evil, when you could spread kindness instead?

Well, clearly not anyone shared the same opinion as you. Some people were just determined to achieve something, and you had never expected that you would be the target of that dogged determination. Sure, you were a princess and many envied you, but to be desired to the point of obsession?

Sometimes, you just wanted to rip the stupid tiara from your head and pretended that you were an average peasant for once. But who were you to get that privilege? No matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you wished upon the sky or the falling star, you could never be one.

However, you kept hoping that maybe – in another lifetime, where everything wasn’t so complicated and strict and more manageable – you would be an average peasant that you always dreamed of.

For now, you just had to deal with him. The one person who had scarred you for life and opened your eyes to the brutal reality. That absolutely anyone was capable of corrupting and be corrupted. Although you weren’t sure if you were ready to see his face again. How could you not? It's been a long time since the last time you saw him.

Was he okay? Did he get torture in there? Had the reform for even the slightest bit?

A tall young man, in his early twenties, climbed up the wooden stairway to the platform. Despite the two guards who were trailing close behind, and the townspeople who immediately threw insults at him like there was no tomorrow, his face remained stony. His body was much skinnier, to the point where you could see the bones protruding from the once bulky skin. His hair was dirty, littered with some dust that hung on the dark locks. Yet, his eyes were still cold as always. They reflected the derisive and angered faces of the townspeople like a deceptive mirror that showed their true, rotten selves.

It was through those eyes too where you learned that not everyone was as kind as they appeared to be. That they only acted cordial either for the sake of gaining your favor or out of courtesy.

And he had been one of them as well, although he insisted that his kindness was ‘real’. You knew you were fully aware, and you acknowledged it. The sincerity and affection that lit up his hollow irises whenever he saw you was far from fake. You can never be as happy when you meet someone unless you truly like them, especially in a royal world where everyone is pretending to be someone they're not.

“He looks worse now,” you heard Rosé whispered beside you. She clutched the hem of her black apron, nervous about being in the same area with him although he was standing a good few meters away from her. Her fear was warranted, however, given his infamy in your kingdom.

You threw her a glum glance, silently agreeing with your personal maid. You had no doubt that he often refused to eat if not the guards having some sort of a personal grudge against him.

“I won’t eat,” he’d said during your first and last visit to his cell. “I will show you how much you turn me into this way.”

It was unfair of him to put the blame on you because obviously, you couldn’t control other people’s feelings. But you knew that you had influence to this sudden change too, not that you would admit it out loud. It would only prove his statement - thus feeding his ego - and that was the last thing you wanted to hear from him.

Jungkook stood with a hunched back in front of you, glassy eyes staring off the distance. What he thought about was a mystery, but you were sure that he didn’t repent on his sins or pondering over his inevitable death. In fact, you could safely say that he enjoyed being a criminal.

That was just another proof of how messed up he was on the head.

“Is there any last word, Jeon Jungkook?” the executioner's deep voice boomed.

A hush fell over the boisterous crowd as they waited for his last answer. The last response that would either strengthen their convictions over his unforgivable actions or convince his innocence, however ridiculous it might sound. Regardless of his sudden decision to show a bit of humanity within him, Jungkook couldn’t miss the blade that glinted menacingly under the sun; the 175 pounds blade that would soon become the end of his life.

If he had any, that is.

Your breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on yours. His gaze was heavy, meant to condescend you despite your higher position. Like you were nothing more than a delicate doll to be dressed in pretty dresses and shoes. Somehow, you had a ridiculous hope that maybe he would overlook you within this sea of raging people.

But of course, nobody can miss their loved ones even in a desert. It’s hard not to.

A smirk graced his pale features, and you visibly tensed up. Despite his lanky figure and hollow cheekbones, he remained the same attractive boy you had met in the past. “I shall see you soon, Your Highness.”

It was a promise, one that he would definitely carry out one way or another. How? You didn’t know. He would die within minutes anyway. But Jungkook wasn’t one to go back on his words, regardless of how ludicrous or absurd they might be.

So, maybe, he believed in another lifetime. Just like you.

Rosé gently grabbed your forearm in a comforting manner as you both watched the executioner raised the rope that held the weighted blade. There was no hesitation, no reluctance, and no lingering movements when Jungkook bowed down to place his head on the lunette. He was like a dutiful child, ready to face whatever consequences that befall him.

And without further hesitation either, the executioner released the rope.

You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing the blade fell with a thud. Rosé whimpered as she hid her face on your side, unable to witness the cruelty of his death as well. Tears leaked from your eyelids and left wet trails along your powdered face. You didn’t know why you were crying when you should be happy that he was dead now.

Perhaps, deep inside, you still harbored some feelings for him. You just refused to acknowledge them. But it was impossible, right? It had to be.

After a few minutes, Rosé slowly withdrew from the awkward side hug and you braced yourself to see it in person. Bile rose to your throat as you bit your bottom lip to suppress a sob from escaping.

Jungkook’s head laid on the ground, facing you. His eyes, although lost their sparks of life, were tender. Like the eyes of a lover who loves their significant other so much they’re willing to give the world for them. His warm gaze, which usually turned ice cold to other people who he felt was bothering you, sent an imaginary stab into your chest.

Why? After all the immoral actions he’d done, he had the guts to stare at you like this? Like you were his whole world, and he was the little stars that have lights on to your otherwise dark life?

Why? Why did he still love you after you rejected him repeatedly?

And most of all, why did his death hurt you so much?

You gripped the cold steel of your parasol and silently wept against your chest. You might be mourning over his death or the doom that had befallen him the moment he met you. Nobody knew. Nobody could bring themselves to care. All they wanted was for him to perish.

And granted was their wishes.

“Jungkook...”

#yandere bangtan sonyeondan #yandere bts #yandere jeongguk #yandere jungkook #yandere jjk #yandere kpop #yandere kpop au #kpop yandere au #kpop yandere #yandere bts au #yandere bts series #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #networkbangtan #jungkook x reader #yandere jeon jeongguk #jeon jeongguk x reader

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possibilistfanfiction · 7 years ago

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Sutton D Brady is an actual angel on this earth thats all i really have if you want to do something with that

[ok honestly this is like five times sutton accidentally is a third wheel on a date w kat & adena + one time she isn’t (she hangs out w kat as her best friend pls don’t be weird pls do not) lmao poor sutton but don’t worry its cute]

you don’t really realize that kat had invited you as a third wheel on this date until it’s too late. you had had a really slow day at the office and kat had made up some excuse for both of you to have to leave, which you don’t think oliver or jacqueline had really bought but it’s a beautiful day and you had been a little down that morning about richard—it comes and goes, who knows why you were sad today—anyway.

kat takes you out for a late lunch somewhere in north bedstuy that serves southern comfort food and when you ask her how she knew about it she just shrugged, smiled, got you a bottle of rosé to share.

you’re definitely a little day drunk and feeling a lot better, because kat had made you laugh a lot with distracting dumb stories and reports from this focus group she’d had to run, and you walk to the C afterward so you can go to the piers and get ice cream, even though you’re so. full.

you’re almost at ample when you see who you’re 99% sure is adena from a distance, and kat grins, this huge smile lighting up her face.

it definitely is adena, who is in a pretty hijab and these killer flowy dark green pants, and kat gives her a quick kiss.

‘i was nearby at my friend’s office in dumbo,’ she explains. ‘i hope it’s okay?’

she genuinely says it like a question, like she would leave if you said no, and kat scoffs but adena looks to you.

‘it’s definitely okay,’ you say, and it is, because you want to spend more time with your best friend’s girlfriend; from what you can tell, kat is definitely in it for the long haul. ‘i’m glad we get to hang out.’

‘me too,’ adena says, and asks about your day. kat jumps in so you don’t have to tell her how you’re ditching work because you were a little upset and you could hug her for it, but she’s holding adena’s hand and they walk beside you, both paying complete attention to you, but their hands are linked and they’re quite literally the most beautiful couple you’ve ever seen, you’re pretty sure. it makes you ache a little more but adena buys you all ice cream and you sit at pier three in the gardens and the city is beautiful behind you; it’s quiet.

kat licks melting ice cream off of adena’s hand and it makes adena roll her eyes and it makes you laugh and you definitely realize this part of your day was absolutely a date.

but then, after you’ve finished your ice cream, adena leaves to go do some editing on a shoot she’d finished last week; she kisses kat goodbye and gives you a tight, heartfelt hug.

‘good to see you, sutton,’ she says.

‘yeah,’ you say, ‘you too.’

kat is a little stunned watching adena walk away, you think, from her wide eyes and dumb ass little smile.

‘i’m definitely falling in love,’ she says.

you laugh at your friend and she helps you up and then shoves you a little, cheeks turning pink.

‘you’re absolutely already in love,’ you tell her, wrap your arm around her shoulders as you walk toward high street.

‘yeah, i guess.’

‘you are.’ you bump her hip and she smiles. ‘it’s great though, kat.’

she lets out a deep breath and goes to hold your hand, but you swat it away. ‘i don’t know where that thing has been.’

‘i’ve washed my hands today, sutton.’

‘ah, so you have had sex.’

kat lifts a brow and strides off in front of you. ‘i like to start my mornings with cardio, what can i say?’

‘you’re terrible,’ you grumble, but it’s fond and you and kat fall asleep on your couch once you get home, trying to get through the staircase in like your fifth attempt.

you wake up to jane taking a series of pictures of the two of you and you groan and kat just burrows into the pillows.

‘she’s tired,’ you explain, ‘from her sex fest this morning.’

‘whatever,’ she says. ‘be jealous all you want.’

it’s very clearly a date to you this time about ten minutes in, even though this is the most ridiculous date ever.

all you had wanted to do was get bread, milk, eggs, and ginger beer from trader joe’s and you were already near downtown brooklyn anyway, because jane had some weird work drinks thing at kimoto and you could both just take the train back from hoyt. you had been at target with kat because it’s like the most pleasant dissociative episode ever, each time you’re there, and somehow adena finds the two of your in the middle of the home decor section, kisses kat hello and then manages to find the ugliest mirror you have ever seen in your life, which had made you both laugh.

you’d met jane in the grocery store and of course the line is long as shit, and kat and adena wander off to find halal chicken nuggets, apparently, and you and jane watch them with a synchronized sigh as the white dude with dreads in front of you fumbles with his kombucha.

‘did they just turn a grocery run into a date?’ you ask.

‘kat has been on a melodrama loop lately. you know, hard feelings.’

‘i honestly thought that was because of liability.’

jane waits a beat and then lets out a big laugh, a good laugh. ‘incredible,’ she says. ‘what a drag.’

you shrug. ‘what can i say? the library is open.’

kat and adena come back and kat says, ‘paris is burning,’ dramatically and with absolutely zero context.

they’re holding hands and have found the halal nuggets in dramatic fashion because the box adena’s holding is gigantic.

‘we were reading you,’ jane says.

kat rolls her eyes. ‘about what?’ she asks. ‘i’m perfect.’

‘chaotic neutral big dick energy,’ you say.

kat grins and adena laughs.

‘that’s not a read,’ kat says, and you and jane have an unspoken agreement, you’re sure, to never tell kat about how you know she’s really terrified she’s going to fuck everything up with adena because you can see what sh’e listening to on spotify—blond and ctrl and melodrama, yikes—so you let her have it.

‘here, ms big dick energy,’ jane says, handing over the ginger beer which is admittedly a little heavy. ‘hold this.’

kat sighs and hefts it up like she’s doing a bicep curl only her arm shakes a little and it’s adena who laughs first.

you and jane grin and start laughing too and it’s not the worst date ever, you guess.

you’d definitely made plans to watch nanette with kat at 7 pm thursday night, because you’d seen it and you knew sacrificing your own tears a second time would be vital because kat’s really been through a lot of ‘identity politics,’ as jane calls them, the past few months, even though she acts like it doesn’t affect her very much.

you’re sure these were your plans because she’d put them into your phone herself, so you’re a little confused as to why she’s not answering her door and you’re holding a bottle of wine and a bag of truffle butter popcorn you’d stollen from a shoot earlier and it’s hot as shit in her hallway.

when you try the door, though, it’s unlocked, thank god, even though you’re a little worried, so you go in.

you are, sadly but also hilariously, not surprised when you see kat completely naked in bed, her computer propped up next to her kind of clumsily, and her head shoots up in your direction and says, ‘shit, adena, i’m sorry, i gotta go,’ and slams her computer shut.

you start to laugh and she tries to wipe her hand on her sheets without you noticing and scrambles around to find a pair of underwear.

‘i’ve seen you naked, like, a thousand times,’ you say, getting out wine glasses, because you’d definitely just walked in on your best friend having facetime sex with her girlfriend but honestly you’re surprised it’s taken you this long at this point. ‘don’t hurry on my account.’

kat throws on a t-shirt and walks over to you, a little smirk on her face. ‘i lost track of time.’

‘you sure did.’

she laughs because you’re smiling and goes to grab a handful of popcorn.

‘are you kidding me?’

‘i’m hungry.’

‘wash your hands, kat.’

‘it was the other hand, i swear to god.’

you lift a brow and she grumbles but dutifully scrubs at her hands while keeping eye contact with you. the back of her hair is coming out of its bun and her cheeks are flushed and she dries her hands with a flourish. ‘happy now?’

‘not as happy as you.’

kat has the courtesy to blush even more. ‘adena’s been gone for two weeks shooting in indonesia—’

‘—oh, we know—’

‘—so i just, you know, missed her.’

‘gay.’

kat huffs. ‘i’m bi.’ she thinks to herself. ‘queer?’

you kiss her cheek, start to pour the wine. ‘i can’t believe i crashed a date when your girlfriend isn’t even in the country.’

kat takes the glass of wine you hand her and lifts it in a toast. ‘i’m sorry.’

you shrug. ‘don’t be. i’m glad you’re happy.’

you clink glasses. ‘me too.’

you sit down on her couch and she grabs popcorn and this time you don’t mind.

‘this is going to ruin your mood for sure, though.’

kat sighs. ‘so i’ve heard.’

you’re both crying by the end and kat burrows into your side, sniffling.

‘stay here tonight?’

‘buy me coffee in the morning,’ you say, even though you have a full outfit for tomorrow and all of your makeup in your bag anyway, because you know her.

‘breakfast too, even that disgusting sandwich with sausage if you want.’

‘deal.’

kat smiles a little and you go to get in her bed wearily before you remember exactly what activity she was doing earlier.

‘change the sheets first, kat.’

‘i’m so tired,’ she pouts.

you raise your brows.

‘so sad, sutton.’

you stand your ground and she rolls her eyes and stomps around but you help her change the sheets.

‘i love you,’ she says, once you’re both situated.

‘i love you too, kat.’

‘you’ve been, just, really important to me in all this, really good, you know that?’

‘yeah,’ you say. ‘i’m the best.’

you wake up to pee in the middle of the night and it’s like 2 am but kat is texting adena, you know, because she’s turned over in bed and there’s a little light radiating from her phone. you don’t say anything because you understand mostly but maybe a little you don’t, and she puts away her phone.

‘time difference,’ she says, and you know it’s about comfort and love but you let her have it.

‘tragic.’

‘she’ll be home in a few days.’

‘great,’ you say, ‘because i really don’t think facetime is fully doing it for you. you’ve been a tightly wound pain in the ass to all of your interns lately.’

you’re both a little delirious so you end up laughing and it’s warm and safe and you fall back asleep.

you’re walking back to kat’s apartment from chelsea, where you’d been to see adena’s latest gallery show—which was really stunning and featured your best friend, a lot, so you cannot wait to tease her later—and they’re holding hands and they keep kissing, light little kisses and it’s cute and really sweet and you love them a lot.

jane is talking about the paintings that were at the show too and it’s a beautiful night, a little chilly after a rainstorm, and it’s late, but there’s really no place you’d rather be.

it’s awesome and peaceful and sort of perfect until some random dude walks past the four of you, takes one look at kat and adena, and says a word that makes adena grit her teeth and jane stiffen and you’re absolutely positive kat is going to get into a fight when she turns around immediately.

‘what the fuck,’ she says, and you’ve seen kat angry and you’ve seen kat hurt and you’ve seen kat genuinely confused and this is all of those things at once, which is. not great.

adena tugs on her hand. ‘kat,’ she says, and from the immediate weariness in her voice you can tell this is certainly not the first time someone has called her a slur. it makes your heart ache and jane is so tiny but she’s already stepping between kat and the dude, and you do too.

he doesn’t seem fazed at all and says it again and you swear to god kat is about to lose her fucking mind and you feel furious too, but it’s not safe for any of you to get into an actual physical fight with this dude and you’re also really fucking terrified.

‘kat,’ you say, tug on her shoulder hard. her jaw clenches and she swallows and then says, ‘fuck you,’ at the dude and to your relief turns around.

adena takes her hand again but it’s not the same gentleness they’d had just a few seconds ago, because mostly she just pulls kat down the street quickly.

jane is absolutely your favorite person in the world because she stands her ground until you can tell they’re far enough down the block.

‘i’m going to call the police,’ jane says, her phone already on 911, all she has to do is press call.

the guy narrows his eyes, looks at her brightly lit phone, and turns around, starts to walk away quickly.

‘oh my god,’ she says, puts her phone in her pocket and you hold her hand immediately because it is shaking.

you both take a few deep breaths and walk toward where kat and adena had gone, and you’re really not surprised when you see kat pacing back and forth around the next street corner, holding her phone in a white knuckled grip, while adena just stands calmly, quiet.

she sees the two of you and launches into a hug and she’s crying and shaking and it makes you really fucking sad and really fucking angry that her life is going to have shit like this in it.

none of you says anything and you go back to her apartment and open a really good bottle of whiskey her parents had gotten her for her birthday and you and jane busy yourself making sandwiches for everyone while kat and adena talk quietly in the corner.

you glance over and kat brushes some of adena’s hair behind her ear and adena rubs her hand under kat’s eye, wiping some tears. kat takes a deep breath and kisses adena deeply and you and jane wait for, like, a full minute before loudly announcing that you’re done with the sandwiches and would definitely like to do a shot.

it gets a laugh out of kat and adena smiles in thanks at the two of you and you get drunk watching every single hayley kiyoko music video on youtube.

the next day you and jane get to work before kat and the little rainbow flag fits perfectly in her mason jar of styluses—weirdo, but you let her have it—on her desk.

you meet her in the lobby thirty minutes later and buy her coffee and you’d left late last night sufficiently drunk so you’re all hungover but you hug her tight and you and jane watch when she goes to her desk.

she smiles, soft and tender and big, and looks over to the two of you.

jane winks and you do finger guns and you hear kat laughing as you walk toward the fashion department.

you don’t realize that kat took you to a queer night at union pool until you’re there, but you honestly don’t mind at all because not one person has touched your ass or just assumed you wanted another drink.

kat and adena hang out with you long enough that you and kat finish two drinks and then kat’s eyes start drifting down to adena’s boobs and adena’s hand snakes around kat’s back and you laugh and tell them to go dance, that you’ll be fine.

and you definitely are totally fine, because someone super cute—reggie, you find out—comes up and sits next to you, buys you another drink after they’ve asked if you want one.

you’re verging on drunk but suddenly you remember some fucking soliloquy kat had gone on the other day after a queer panel jacqueline had had her speak on while you were all doing face masks before grey’s anatomy and so you ask, ‘hey, what are your pronouns?’

reggie smiles and says, ‘they/them,’ and you nod.

‘cool,’ you say. ‘she/her.’

distantly you think kat would be really proud but reggie smiles at you and asks if you want to dance and you try to find kat and adena for a second but you have no idea where they went off to, but you definitely do want to dance.

it’s fun and reggie is handsome and has braids that might be even better than kat’s—you’d never tell her because she wouldn’t talk to you for, like, a day probably—and tomboy by princess nokia comes on and it’s fun and you’re laughing and you’re sure your best friend is living her best fucking life because you have heard this song more times in the past two weeks from her spotify than you have in years.

reggie grins and it doesn’t feel odd at all to kiss them, because you’re dancing and it’s sexy and you’re having fun. you dance some more and go to the bar to get some water, eventually, and kat finds you there, her lipstick definitely more adena’s shade now than it was before they went off somewhere and adena is trying to fix her hijab.

they’re ridiculous and in love and kat grins at you while she closes your tab and you’re really fucking tired but you get reggie’s number before you head out with your friends.

‘who was that?’ adena asks, squished between the two of you in the back of a lyft but she’s resting her head on kat’s shoulder and they both look far too sated for having just danced.

‘reggie,’ you say. kat winks. ‘they’re cute.’

kat reaches across adena to give you a high five and then definitely performs a very clumsy and incredibly obvious boob graze on her girlfriend and they make eyes at each other and you clear your throat for posterity.

you don’t mind at all, though, really, not even a little bit.

shit with your mom has been fucked up and exhausting and dating is fun but kind of lonely, really, and it’s so nice outside but jane is knee deep in an article about neighborhood segregation and public school districts and you’re just.

a little achy.

kat texts you and asks if you want to go to prospect park for a picnic and you almost say no, because you fucking love adena but they’re so in love and so happy sometimes they just make your loneliness worse, even though that’s a shitty thing to think—they do.

but you say yes because you definitely need to not watch dark tourist all day and you get ready and are remarkably there on time even with delays on the Q.

you’re surprised when kat is waiting for you by herself, lounging on a bench near the market with sunglasses and an actual, honest to good book.

‘hey,’ you say, and she stands to give you a hug. ‘where’s your girlfriend.’

‘i don’t do everything with her,’ kat says. ‘but she’s at her office today. she got nominated for some big award and instead of wanting to celebrate she just went right back to work.’

‘ah, so that’s why you get along so well,’ you say, take off in the direction of your favorite bread stall. ‘workaholics.’

kat scoffs and pushes you but she doesn’t bother to argue.

‘so i’m second choice, then.’

you say it as a light joke and you don’t think that at all but you’re in A Mood and it comes out more serious than you intended.

‘what?’ kat says, grabs your arm and turns to face you, flicks her sunglasses up. ‘you’re never my second choice, sutton. i love you so fucking much.’

you sniffle and you hate that you’re going to cry all of a sudden and kat frowns and pulls you into a hug.

‘i’m sorry if i’ve ever made you feel otherwise.’

you shake your head into her shoulder and your, ‘you don’t, you haven’t,’ comes out a little muffled but you feel her nod so you know she heard.

‘okay.’

you sigh and back up and wipe under your eyes. kat still looks concerned so you shake your head. ‘just—stuff with babs, dating sucks, all of that.’

‘yeah.’ she heads toward the bread stall too, even though you hadn’t said anything.

‘do you want to talk about it?’ she picks out an olive oil and rosemary loaf and you really fucking love her.

‘not right now,’ you say.

she nods. ‘well, i brought champagne.’

‘incredible.’

you buy cheese and fruit and walk to a place near the lake, lay out the blanket kat had brought, one she’d gotten in peru, which makes you grin because you know she’d thought of you and jane and your picnics when she’d found it.

she talks about her latest project at work and you lowkey want to inform her that she’s an influencer now but she’s a little arrogant enough already honestly so you just let her have this one. you make little sandwiches and you make her put sunscreen on even when she whines about it because the UV index is 10 today and jane would kill you both if you got sunburned.

you lay down and talk about music and the actual paper copy of a book she was reading and how she might want a tattoo and you pet like six dogs and eventually you sit up and grin.

‘this is wild, but we’re already on the Q so do you want to go to coney island?’

she laughs and shrugs. ‘why the hell not?’

you gather your stuff and she leans against you on the train, sundrunk and exhausted, and you’re both sweaty and not at all glamorous and this is exactly what you needed.

she patiently stands in line with you at nathan’s and only moderately complains about all the tourists, and you’re both in denim shorts but she stands with you in the ocean eating her hot dog and laughs when you take a boomerang and you walk back to the train eventually, so tired and much, much lighter than you’d felt this morning.

you ride together and are quiet, and it’s easy and you’re both way more grown up now, but you’ve been best friends for five years and you think you’re really fucking lucky.

she gets ready to get off at canal, before you at 14th, and gives you a weirdly positioned hug—you’re still sitting and she’s stood up—and it makes you both laugh.

‘that was the best day,’ she says. ‘thanks.’

‘have fun celebrating tonight.’

‘are you kidding? i’m so tired i’m just going to watch dark tourist and go to sleep.’

you laugh. ‘love me some good problematic binge watching.’

kat grins. ‘always.’

the train comes to a stop and she waves. ‘love you, sutton.’

‘love you too, kat.’

#kadena fic #possibilist #SUTTON BRADY #we love her so much what a Good Kid!!!!!!#olivia !!!!#got some bi sutton vibes in there for u you are welcome #mercury is in retrograde in 3 days but kat is always in mercury retrograde im p sure

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fullmetalirin · 6 years ago

Text

Fullmetal Alchemist: Return to Liore (OG 39-42)

I've gotten tired of the slow pacing. We're covering the whole Liore arc in one go!

Fullmetal Alchemist Episode 39: "Secret of Ishbal"

On the train ride to a military base near Lior, Mustang is dismayed to discover that Kimblee is a part of the force and has been reinstated as a state alchemist by Archer, who has been promoted to Colonel for this operation. The Elrics and Marta arrive in Ishbal, and are surprised to find that only ruins remain. There, they discover that 2nd Lts. Breda and Havoc have been spying on them, and they are brought to Mustang, who puts the Elric brothers under his supervision. At dinner, Mustang shows Ed an aerial view of Lior, which reveals that Scar, who has been dragging a giant rock around the city, gouging the earth, is creating a giant Grand Arcanum transmutation circle, which upsets Ed. Ed then goes to Colonel Archer and asks to go undercover into Lior to investigate the area for the military. Archer agrees on the condition that Al is left behind so Ed does not have the will to "go AWOL". He then leaves after giving Armstrong his silver pocket watch.

Winry doesn't want to tell Ross and Brosh any details, just vaguing that something's up with the military. Is she afraid they'll be targeted if they know?

Cartoonface when Winry tells Sheska she'll have to leave her books. I feel like Winry is carrying the plot okay, but Sheska is really dragging her down with all the awkward comedy.

Cartoonface with Al when Martel pulls a knife on Ed. Not the time.

Martel is okay with Ed killing Greed because she figured he wanted to die. That's a bit convenient.

Martel makes a quip about eating snakes being cannabilism, which is a little clever.

There's a short gag when Martel is offended when Ed calls her old. Not necessary.

We see the animals the chimeras were fused with during the flashback.

I'm not sure what Martel's reveal adds, honestly? The official inciting event was already orchestrated by Envy, if memory serves. The reveal that they incited Ishbal with an earlier attack seems redundant, and also a lot less meaningful than a single small action causing this huge avalanche.

Archer actually moves for his gun during Ed's obligatory shortness freakout gag.

Ed is hogging all the food when they eat.

Ed confronts Mustang over hiding Liore's situation from him. He feels responsible, but Mustang said he'd get too emotional.

Ed meets the bartender from the first episode when he returns to Liore. We end with Lust and Gluttony overlooking the area as they did in episode 2, before Ed runs into Scar. Meanwhile, Martel sees Kimblee and attacks him. Double cliffhanger!

I will admit that the leadup to this seemed pretty pointless – if it's common knowledge that Ishbal is in ruins, why are the Elrics surprised, and what did they expect to find there? The driving question of the past few episodes ends up leading nowhere. If the real action was taking place in Liore, the plot should have taken them there sooner. Still, things are starting to move again. I'm particularly liking that we're finally getting teeth to the threat that Ed will be forced to serve the military in the event of another Ishbal.

Fullmetal Alchemist Episode 40: "The Scar"

After arriving in Lior, Ed finds his old acquaintance Rosé, who is now called "Holy Mother" and unable to speak. He also runs into Scar, and the two of them begin battling in an alley, to be interrupted by Lust and Gluttony. Al and Marta are shocked to find Kimblee at the military base, and Marta, acting out of rage, attacks Kimblee, and after a failed attempt to injure Marta by sacrificing a soldier, Kimblee finds himself fighting Al, who is protecting Marta. The battle is broken up by Mustang. Scar reveals his past to Ed, at the insistence of Rosé and Lyra, who is acting as Rosé's voice. Before the war, Scar's brother lost his fiance due to a fatal illness, and tried to use alchemy to bring her back, but instead created Lust. His brother then went on to create the Philosopher's Stone, and it is revealed where Scar's tattooed arm comes from, and the X-shaped scar on his face. He then reveals his plans to use the Grand Arcanum to create another Philosopher's Stone, but not by sacrificing the people of Lior, but by sacrificing the soldiers of the military. Führer Bradley arrives at the military base, and has a private conversation with Kimblee, where he is given the instructions to go into Lior and cause trouble, and return with Ed's dead body. Marta overhears this and also discovers that Bradley is actually Pride, the seventh and final homunculus, whose Ultimate Eye is hidden under the eyepatch. She encounters Al and hides inside him, but Bradley comes and sticks his sword inside Al, tragically killing Marta.

Al stops Martel from killing Kimblee. Kimblee promptly throws a people-bomb at them. Al is an idiot.

Al saves Martel by grabbing her and jumping from the balcony, but… Martel is still landing on armor, that's gotta hurt.

Kimblee gloats about Martel and Al not being people, and Al fights him. He pulls out chalk to draw a transmutation circle awfully quickly, and raises pillars of stone. Kimblee immediately turns them into bombs, but Al seals him in a box, trapping him in the explosion. What happened to not killing people, Al? Kimblee conveniently survives, somehow. Mustang shows up and does not do anything despite Kimblee explicitly telling him he plans to kill Al.

Ed learns Scar killed Nina and gets angry, saying it's not their place to decide things like that.

Ed foils Scar's destruction technique by changing the metal in his automail. Shouldn't that mean Scar ought to have trouble with chimeras, too? Of course, he not only tells Scar this, but also confirms that this is messing up his automail. No, Ed, stop being dumb.

Scar manages to grab Ed's flesh arm. Ed tries to slash him, but is stopped by the homunculi. Ed spews hot steam at them, and is surprised when they regenerate.

Scar takes out the locket he dug up, which makes Lust BSOD.

We get the full flashback with Lust and Scar's brother. It seems he did use her corpse as a base, but still produced a mess. Judging from where the blood is, it appears he lost his reproductive organs? So a male version of what happened to Izumi, though he seems a lot more functional than her.

Dante-Lyra pretends to be surprised when Ed reveals where homunculi come from. She then freely divulges that Dante created a homunculus too. Why?

Ed deduces that someone must be collecting and aiding the homunculi, since they're in no condition to do that on their own when they're first created. Dante-Lyra is suspiciously silent on this.

Flashback to Kimblee attacking Scar. He gave him his scar and blew up his arm due to choosing to blow him up a piece at a time – a bit forced, but not out of character. Not sure how Scar's eyelids survived, though, since the scar passes over them.

Scar's arm absorbs Philosopher's Stones in an attempt to complete itself. If we accept that the tattoo is a special type that can absorb souls one at a time, that checks out.

Ed pieces together that Rose was raped by the military. I've heard this come up a lot as an example of why OG is misogynist, and I honestly think that's incredibly uncharitable and reductive. I mean, for one thing, we're not shown it and we're not even explicitly told; if this was really just some sadistic male fantasy, we'd be wallowing in it. But, well, this is the kind of thing that happens during war. If you're going to write a story about the evils of the military, it's not wrong to follow that to its logical if awful conclusion. Pretending everyone in an occupied territory will be fine until the heroes conveniently arrive, as Brotherhood does, is just incredibly ignorant and dishonest. If a story wants to criticize military culture and imperialism, it has to show what that actually means.

Martel holds a knife to Bradley's throat but stupidly does not kill him. She wants him to revoke the orders, but he just met in secret; if she kills him now, the orders won't go through. It's not like it would even affect the plot if she did, since he's unkillable and we're about to reveal him as a homunculus anyway.

We see Bradley effortlessly dodging Martel's lightning-fast attacks, which is a far better demonstration of the Ultimate Eye than what we got in Brotherhood, in my opinion. Bradley also has a scar under the eyepatch.

Bradley kills Martel the same way he did in Brotherhood, but there's no blood on his sword, for some reason. He covers it better by saying he thought Martel was threatening Al.

Hm. I do like that Martel gets to stick around longer than in Brotherhood, but she doesn't really do much more, and still dies pretty stupidly (though her more rational motivation is an improvement). I do think this is a much better place for the Bradley reveal, though. It happens way, way too early in Brotherhood – knowing the evilness goes straight to the top only a quarter of the way through the story kills a lot of the mystery and makes the narrative pretty black-and-white. OG has taken pains to hide Bradley's connection to the villains even as the evidence has piled up against him, giving him plausible deniability and a seemingly benevolent relationship to the characters. This is timed well as a climactic reveal showing us that no, the homunculi really do control the entire government. And it's paired perfectly with Ed informing us there's someone else pulling the strings, too!

Fullmetal Alchemist Episode 41: "Holy Mother"

Scar, speaking for Rosé, tell the people of Lior to lure the military into the city, but not to provoke them. Kimblee, with a group of chimeras, attack civilians in the city, and Scar instructs the civilians to leave the city, so that he can create the Philosopher's Stone when the military arrives. Ed sends a letter to Mustang explaining all that's happening in Lior, and advising him to keep the military from entering the city. Mustang and his group learn about what happened at Laboratory Five in Central, and how a Philosopher's Stone is made. Mustang tells Alphonse to go into Lior and find his brother. Archer prepares to assault the city of Lior, but is ordered to wait by Bradley. When Lust asks Pride why he told Archer to wait, he said he was acting upon their master's orders. Angry, Lust decides to go into Lior alone so she can help Scar create the Philosopher's Stone. Ed and Rosé help the civilians exit the city of Lior, and Wrath and Sloth confront Ed. Wrath's weakness is revealed, and Wrath then attacks Rosé, who manages to speak and call out to Ed to get his attention. Scar confronts Kimblee, and they begin an alchemic battle, causing more destruction in the city. Alphonse intercedes by trapping Kimblee, but he escapes and uses his alchemy to begin transforming Alphonse's armor into a bomb.

We open with Ed seeing the graves of everyone who died in the uprising. Ed is overwhelmed by guilt.

We flashback to discover Martel did successfully tell Al everything. Not sure why we couldn't have done that last episode.

Ed has been imprisoned. Dante visits him, and says "we humans" are weak. Ed says she smells weird, and Dante passes it off as perfume. So she's already begun to rot. Ed says he doesn't like the smell. Foreshadowing!

Ed sends a letter telling the military to stop the assault, preventing Scar from getting his ingredients. The homunculi convene and tell Bradley to do it anyway, but he says Dante has ordered him not to. I presume she gave the messenger another letter for him. Lust points out the only reason they're following Dante is for the Stone, so she's going to help Scar do it anyway.

Back in Liore, Dante insists they should make a break for it and tell everyone what happened here. Ed says it'd just become another story of a failed Philosopher's Stone, so he won't. Dante looks irritated at this, so I guess that's what she was hoping for.

Sloth delivers Wrath but does not reveal herself to Ed.

The cry of Rose's baby makes Wrath flip out.

Ed argues that homunculi are nothing but illusions who falter in the face of the real thing, which I think is nice imagery.

Wrath says he has no weakness, since his own body was used as ingredients for his resurrection. I guess homunculi have better memory than human babies. While this does address a neat loophole, it does raise the question of why it's a unique case – I should think that using the corpse ought to be the first thing anyone would try.

Al arrives to stupidly insist everyone stop fighting. Kimblee uses the opportunity to transmute Scar's arm into a bomb, so Scar tears it off. Woah. I don't like the way the blood from his stump is animated, though; looks too goopy. And shouldn't he be bleeding out, since there are vital arteries in the shoulder?

Scar runs Kimblee through, but he somehow survives long enough to throw Ed's pocketwatch at Scar. Ah, that's clever; he learned the absorption incapacitates him earlier. And this also explains why Cornello thought the pocketwatches let you transmute without a circle, actually! If they used to stuff red stones in there, that would actually be true.

Oh, Sloth does appear to Ed. She accuses him of making her wrong, which makes him BSOD.

Rose echoes Ed's own advice at him, which is a nice callback. It's actually pretty appropriate, since Ed is collapsed.

We get a bunch of still images for the final sequence, but they're intercut with proper animation, so I presume it's for coolness rather than lack of budget this time.

Fullmetal Alchemist Episode 42: "His Name is Unknown"

Al's armor is slowly transforming into an explosive compound following Kimblee's attack. With Ed helping the Liorites escape, Scar is the only one who can help Al. Scar then proceeds to turn Al into the Philosopher's Stone. Seeing that Kimblee had been killed by Scar, Archer orders the military army into Lior to take him down. After multiple gunshot wounds in protecting Lust, Scar takes his last breath and transmutes the whole city with himself and the soldiers inside. Upon seeing the destruction, Ed races to find Scar. Finding his brother alive, Ed soon realizes what Scar has done. Lust then appears, instructing the brothers to start running; that they will soon be sought after.

Animators didn't bother drawing an exit wound for Kimblee. Boo. The blood spot is also higher up on his body, in a place where it should have been immediately fatal.

Al says it's hard to talk. Ed was worried about messing up the blood seal when he repaired him earlier, so it could be that any alteration to the armor messes him up.

New, and final, OP! Kind of an odd to do that in the middle of an arc, but okay. The visuals are quite good – we get a shot of Hoenheim, a prominent shot of Dante-Lyra, and a lot of battles with the homunculi. I think I liked the previous one's melody better, though. Looking at the lyrics, the OPs do seem to follow an interesting theme: the first one is about destroying memories, the second one is about never looking back, the third one is about holding onto memories, and this one is about the dissonance between memories and self-actualization.

Sloth undulates under her clothes while she's luring Ed, which is really creepy. I wonder if she has trouble staying solid.

Sloth changes her clothes into a sexy dress. Nooot necessary, though it's ironically pretty visually similar to Brotherhood!Sloth's overalls.

Dante informs them that homunculi have more than one life, so they'll be back. And how would Lyra know that, hmmm?

Archer says there is no military without evil or corruption.

Scar turns Al into the Philosopher's Stone to save him. I'm a bit confused as to why, though; what has Al ever done for him? Scar put a lot of work into this for the same of stopping the military, but now he's just willing to abandon that for Al's sake? He should also be able to amputate the affected area, like he did for himself.

Scar successfully lures the military to attack using himself as bait. I like that it's implied Lust is helping him, as he shouldn't be able to carry Kimblee's body without arms.

Ah, Scar explains he's helping Al because he sees himself in the Elric brothers. That still feels a little weak, I mean they've done nothing but fight him and try to impede his very justified goals. I can see what the writers were going for in trying to draw parallels between them, but I think this needed more time and interactions to make it develop properly.

Unfortunately, he then goes on to say he doesn't care what the Elrics do with the Stone now that he's given it to them, which makes less sense. He was already the victim of a Stone-amplified massacre; isn't he afraid they'll give the Stone to Amestris and make them even stronger?

Lust asks Scar's name and we get the same line from BH 15 about him forsaking it. Much better placement here.

Liore is completely vaporized after the transmutation, which seems a little odd, but it fits. I guess it was dragging in all raw materials.

New ED. It's strangely slow and contemplative, though not to the same degree as the last one. I still like the second one best. There is a shot of everyone who's died – Trisha, Nina, Hughes, and Scar – which I think is a nice detail for the final stretch, especially as this upcoming arc will be about the heroes confronting their flaws and mistakes.

Conclusion

All right! It's taken a while, but the original plot is finally in full swing. The quality of the early episodes gave me motivation to stick through the slow parts, and now that faith's been rewarded. Look at all the stuff happening! Bringing the story back to where it all began! People facing the consequences of their actions! Resolution to the longstanding mystery of Scar! The heroes actually doing stuff! Major characters dying! And to top it off, the heroes have finally attained the goal stated at the start of the story: the Philosopher's Stone. But the question remains: What will they do with it now, and what comes next? Like the Fifth Laboratory, this feels like a true culmination of all that has come before, while still leaving room for the future. We've been left with many questions and answers. This is how it's done!

I also prefer this resolution for Scar over what he gets in Brotherhood. That may sound strange or sadistic, but… getting to kill Hitler and then live happily ever after just feels too neat to me. Maybe I'm weird, but, and I'll talk about this again at the end, outcomes that are too happy just make me reject them as fake. In reality, people in Scar's position typically do not survive the revolution. They don't get to be in the perfect position to avenge their people and live to fix everything afterwards. They're lucky if they can accomplish anything before they're inevitably gunned down. But Scar did! Scar succeeded at his plan. He wiped out a huge chunk of the military, saved the Liorites, and completed his brother's work. It came at a high cost, but it's a cost all revolutionaries have to be willing to pay. His resolution in Brotherhood is: I will direct my anger at the right person and be the good scary black man. His resolution in OG is: I will die to stop this. And, everything's subjective, but I find that a lot stronger, and more real.

Additionally, I think there's something to be said here that Scar does what the heroes were too afraid to do. We saw this as early as episode 7, when he gave mercy to the pained Nina when Ed froze up at the risk. Ed spends this arc trying to stop Scar, but can't really give a good reason why. You can waffle over if every rank-and-file of the military really deserves it, but the fact remains that Amestris' military is evil, and turning their own methods back upon them is a powerfully ironic revenge. Scar is in many ways a truer hero than the Elrics, willing to make real sacrifices instead of demanding the world let him have his cake and eat it too. Equivalent exchange, eh?

But he's not here to bail Ed out of his indecision anymore. From now on, Ed's going to have to make the hard choices on his own.

Oh, and, after all that stuff in Brotherhood, I am also perversely amused by how sidelined Mustang is here. This was Scar's show, and the writers knew better than to dilute that by cramming other characters in where they weren't wanted.

I did have several nitpicks, but I feel that they really are nitpicks, rather than things that truly break the story. I can't get a good grasp on Al's motivation, but his involvement isn't very important, so it doesn't feel like an idiot ball is necessary to move the plot. (It also pleases me how his constant insistence on absolute pacifism just ends up screwing everything up far worse – intentionally or not, that's a good refutation of the philosophy. See my other favorite anime, Trigun, for more on that!) Scar's motivation for turning Al into the Philosopher's Stone is a little weak, as are the mechanics of how, exactly, it's supposed to undo Kimblee's transmutation, but everything else is so wonderfully done that I am willing to give it a pass, especially given how many options it gives the story going forward.

#fullmetal alchemist #fma #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma 2003 #liveblog

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diveronarpg · 7 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, TYRA! You’ve been accepted for the role of BIANCA. Admin Rosey: Be still, my heart! For you, Tyra, have created a storm in it -- a storm of utter adoration and devotion to our beloved Brigette of Verona. They are hard to capture, something ethereal but something horribly, horribly real. I honestly thought it would be awhile before anyone would grow to love our dear Bianca, but you have them down to a T. The sample that you provided sealed the deal and the plots you had in the works were merely the icing on a devilishly sweet cake. Take care of them for me, will you? Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Age | 20

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | i just copy-pasted my this from my old app. I’m a college student and things can sometimes get super hectic for me, especially when I try to avoid studying and then I end up with so much work to do. But all in all, I think I’m a pretty active person and when I love a muse, there’s nothing that can stop me from playing them.

Timezone | gmt+2

In Character

Character | Bianca

What drew you to this character? | The mankind is poised midway between the gods and the beasts and while Brigitte wants to believe that she’s a god, there’s no doubt to me that she’s a true beast in an expensive and ornate disguise. Every good story needs an antagonist and it truly appears like Brigitte fits that role so well in Verona. You already know how much I adore strong women, but I wouldn’t technically call Brigitte strong. Brigitte is wicked and clever and once you mix that with her background you get a real ‘bad bitch’. Yes, I had to write that, because Brigitte is a definition of a spoiled princess whose ferocious appetite can’t be satisfied. She always wants more, more and more! She’s so greedy, but also ambitious in my opinion. I feel like that greed and all the riches are slowly devouring her on the inside. It’s a curse of all the wealthy people, but once you have the whole world served on a silver platter, you really start wishing for more - daring to challenge the Gods themselves. The hearts of others, love, adoration, jewelry, money - it’s not enough. She could devour the whole Verona and it still wouldn’t be enough. Those are the reasons that simply made me love such a bad person and perhaps loving someone so rotten and spoiled should make me feel guilty - but I don’t feel any guilt at all. She is rotten and I see that when I compare her to her sister - Katarina helps others, the part with birds just shows that she does have a sweet heart, but Brigitte only brings trouble and has the potential in her to wreak havoc in Verona. Katarina would help a wounded animal, but princess Brigitte would simply turn it into a lovely fur coat, after all the princess always gets what she wants. All of her imperfections make her perfect for me. Brigitte is also so cunning and the way she plays with people makes me respect her even more. Others have their fists and pistols, but Brigitte has her golden curls, pearls and sweet words. She’s the thorn in probably many eyes, but she lives her life to the fullest. Plus, who doesn’t love rich bitches who are ready to sink their teeth in the flesh of their opponents? And my god, this little wolf surely has big teeth.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | ( future plots always make me a little nervous because I’m an indecisive person and I never know what sort of idea could come to me the very next morning. )

ー let’s start with her darling sister. I want her to get under Katarina’s skin so much that basically Katarina gets a desire to arrest her. I don’t think she’ll ever let her sister live peacefully. It’s a secret feud, but Brigitte would do all in her power to probably sabotage her own sister. Let it be known that she is the only one their family loves. I think this constant bickering would be good for her, as it would keep her on the edge of her seat and make her wish to always keep improving herself. Her sister should always keep one eye open, even when she sleeps, because Brigitte is one malicious girl.

ー a test of patience and loyalty would also be quite intriguing to see. Brigitte is that type of person that is ( in the end ) only loyal to herself and she does everything for her own personal gain. So, perhaps it would be nice to see her doing something that could come across as being disloyal to the Capulets? Maybe it could appear that she’s a bit too close with some of the Montagues? How would they react to that? She plays so much, but what if she gets all caught up in the game?

ー the next one belongs to Cyrus as they’re a match made in hell. Exploring their friendship/relationship is something that needs to happen. I do want them to get in trouble, but also cause so much trouble! A part of me believes that she’s very reckless and that if it ever comes to that, she’d support Cyrus and all of his decisions - especially when it comes to reclaiming his throne. Wouldn’t that make her his accomplice? But also a queen of the city? - And isn’t that the closest thing to a god? Watch them turn Verona into nothing but ashes, they’ll watch it burn like the Library of Alexandria.

ー of course, I had to include Vivianne. While there’s no mention of her in Brigitte’s biography or connections, I think it would be so fun to explore their dynamic. Vivianne is the underboss and well Brigitte has to technically respect her, but I feel like that would only be a mask. In fact, she only supports her son and it’s quite clear that they don’t have a good relationship. So, how would Vivianne react to one of her soldiers being so close with her underdog son? Please let the drama unfold.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | This question is tricky, but I wouldn’t be too worried about Brigitte! Mostly because I have a feeling that she would come back to haunt everyone. ;)

In Depth

In-Character Para Sample:

Every city had its poisons and rotten apple, and for that reason dear reader, Verona had Brigitte. But she, oh she wasn’t your typical rotten fruit. No, she was dipped into gold, an apple that even Snow White herself would pick in a basket filled with plenty of others. She truly looked like the sweetest apple, but underneath that layer of opulence and charm was hidden a sour disappointment. Never trust just your eyes.

She entered a splendid banquet room dressed in a red lavishing Versace gown - but wasn’t their symbol Medusa’s head? It was a strange coincidence but my darlings - to kill this gorgon you would have to bring Perseus himself from the dead! Around her neck she wore no necklace, for she had two most beautiful and mesmerizing sapphires right above her nose - and just like Medusa, she could stop a man or a woman in their tracks and bring them to their knees with just one mischievous look. Blessed were the beautiful ones, for everyone adored and showered them with affection. Her abundant golden hair cascaded down her back, creating a holy image of a crown upon her head.

Among such a big crowd, she still managed to swiftly find her favorite and gullible targets - gorgeous men and women who would practically beg her to listen to their deepest secrets and fantasies. However, the biggest satisfaction came in the form of a realization that her darling and surely forever jealous sister wasn’t there. With a glass of the finest french champagne in her hand Brigitte made her way through the crowd, casually pushing people aside and making them look directly at her - she truly wanted them to take a good look at her, wanted them to admire her beauty and even fantasize about her. Plant a seed of a pretty illusion and watch it grown into a wild obsession. That was the perfect trick, wasn’t it? Leave them wanting for more. However her true charms and faux sweetness was saved for someone else, her darling targets.

First came a man dressed quite formally - however the bow tie around his neck almost looked like it was smothering him. Nevertheless he still managed to plaster a sweet smile on his face for the lovely Brigitte, filling his sight with every inch of her mesmerizing face. He was surely twice her age, but by now creepy men were just the norm for this Italian gem.’’Brigitte, my darling. It’s such a pleasant surprise to see you here.’’

She tossed him a coy smile, nodding sweetly like a little fool.’‘But Verona is my home, monsieur. I should be the one that’s surprised. However, I do have to agree with your words and the pleasure is all mine.’‘

‘‘Brigitte, ah please you’re far too–’‘ She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she placed her index finger over her own peach painted lips and said,’‘In the presence of a man like you I have no choice but to speak the truth. My hearts doesn’t let me tell lies.’‘Her words were too good to be true, but he still believed her. Completely bewitched, he sought to pull her close but she spun laughing from his grasp.

‘‘You’ll have to give me a tour around Verona one day. I would be the happiest man in the world with you as my guide. I’m certain I could learn so much about you. What is your favorite place in Verona? Perhaps, we could meet there?’‘

She batted her long eyelashes at him, rosé blush slowly painting her porcelain cheeks. Dear Lord, she could even blush on cue - and such great talent undoubtedly made the best thespians in fair Verona envious. ‘‘My favorite place in this city… is wherever you are. I believe that when you’re in a great company, even the most dullest places can become beautiful. ‘‘

‘‘Oh Brigitte, you flatter me too much.’‘

‘‘But if I had to pick one, the Phoenix and the Turtle cafe is the one I’d gladly pick for a pretty meeting. They serve the best coffee in all Verona and I simply can’t get enough it of.’‘Lies, lies, lies. Brigitte actually loathed coffee, the taste of it was beyond awful and even sweets and cakes mixed with coffee were something that she always avoided. But she knew that her darling target adored coffee and so for the sake of her great performance, she had to lie. There were other places, too of course. Like the stunning cathedral of Verona, but she wasn’t an ideal example of a good believer. Even as a child, quite peculiar thoughts had plagued her mischievous mind. Imagining her own face upon the stained glass windows ( high above the commoners, glowing so holy ) - was a far more satisfying option than actually praying with her parents. Perhaps her own mind was the prettiest place in all of Verona.

‘‘Brigitte, then we must meet soon.’‘However, she stopped listening to him when she noticed another target, one that was far more important to her. ‘‘And we shall, but I must go and greet my other friends now. Until we meet again.’‘She bowed her head slightly and moved closer to the man, leaving a soft kiss upon his left cheek. God, he even tasted like sweat. Luckily, her other target seemed to be much more refined and in a better state.

The woman wore a beige dress that somehow made her black braided-hair stand out so well and even from a far, she left a trail of lavender scent behind. She looked unapproachable, almost stone-cold and no man had succeed that night in striking up a conversation with her that lasted longer than two minutes. However, Brigitte, like a true clever snake, knew her weakness and she just waited for the right time to strike.’’Do my eyes betray me or am I truly in the presence of Aphrodite?’’ Overly saccharine words fell from Brigitte’s lips, but she knew exactly what she was doing.

‘‘ Brigitte?’‘ The woman’s eyes lit up with excitement, scanning Brigitte’s gorgeous body from head to toe. Everybody always had the same tendencies. ’‘But my eyes don’t betray me. And how could I forget your eyes?’‘ They both chuckled in that moment, playfully observing each other.’‘Well they say my sister has eyes green like the American money and while I think that’s a beautiful comparison, most claim that my eyes are as blue and clear as the Aegean sea.’‘

‘‘They are not wrong, my dear. Aegean sea is the most beautiful one. It’s no wonder people wish to compare your eyes to it.’‘

‘‘You are far too kind, but I have to admit that my heart skips a beat each time when you speak.’‘Those who actually believed Brigitte only had one thing to worry about - their precious lives! ( But if you’re foolish enough to trust her, isn’t that what you actually deserve? )

‘‘Would you like to join me for a walk? I can’t breath here, but I don’t wish to go alone.’‘The snake with the golden hair inquired, never once taking her gaze off the other woman. Her eyes held so much power that they could devour people. A killer cobra, she was nothing else.

‘‘How could I turn down such beautiful company?’‘

…

The two women strode alone, not daring to touch each other. It was upon Brigitte to make the first move and for the sake of victory, she did exactly that. She gently rested one hand on the other woman’s upper arm, tugging her slightly toward herself. And in just one moment, she pressed her lips to hers.’‘You’re as sweet as the finest Italian honey.’‘Brigitte whispered, giving her own lips a new shade with each kiss.’‘I’m a little bee and I wish to drown in all of your sweetness.’‘In the wilderness, most snakes had the same approach when it came to killing their precious prey. ( Locate them, distract them, sneak up on them, wrap your body around them and enjoy in your delicious little meal. ) She was the favorite Du Pont daughter for this exact reason. She wasn’t a wild lioness that roared at every target like her foolish sister, but a beautiful serpent hidden beneath the most beautiful roses, always waiting for the right moment to strike.

‘‘Brigitte, I…’‘She shushed her with another passionate kiss, delivering her deadly blow.

‘‘Come, I’ll take you to my room. There, you can tell me anything you wish.’‘

And they always did.

Sometimes death was as sweet as a lover’s kiss. Confess your sins to your favorite god who carries the name Brigitte.

Extras: /

#accepted: bianca #accepted

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marinette-sky · 8 years ago

Text

Cigarettes and Leather Ch. 6

Time to spice up the story with some good ole' fashioned romance! Or, A.K.A, people who mistake their feelings of attraction as friendship! It's subtle, and it's in the context, but fear not! The build up will be worth it ;)!

I'm trying to speed things up a bit to get to the good stuff (like in the next chapter), so from here on you might see a spike in time skips to keep the ball rolling and the plot flowing.

I might have the next chapter out by next Thursday(?), or sooner depending on my mood.

Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary: Adrien swallows his pride and asks Marinette to help him investigate the crime against Ivan and Kim. Chat Noir and Ladybug discuss the turn of events from their last meeting, and things do no go as planned.

Word Count: 4,106

Rating: T+

Adrien shifted awkwardly to one side, digging his hands deeper into the recesses of his jacket pockets. He felt out of place in the living room of the Dupain-Cheng household, his usual rugged appearance largely contrasting with the rosé and white themed décor of the space. It was a far cry from what he was used to seeing in his own home considering his father’s love for white walls and linoleum floors with black granite accents. Sabine had encouraged him to ‘make himself comfortable’, but he was almost reluctant to ruin the pleasant image of the room by claiming a spot on their champagne pink couch.

Too much has happened for me to feel at ease anyways.

He listened to the sound of Sabine banging on what had to be Marinette’s bedroom door, trying to decipher what she shouted before he heard her push something heavy open. A feminine voice responded back, and the ceiling creaked with the weight of someone moving around above him.

I came here for one reason, and one reason only…

Sabine materialized at the bottom of the stairs with a strange smile that wasn’t quite like the one she wore when she first greeted him. While he found it almost unsettling, Adrien quickly brushed the feeling aside and squared his shoulders. His main concern had just rushed past the giddy woman and stopped a few feet short of where he stood.

…Marinette.

“You’re okay…” Marinette spoke aloud with a relieved sigh, her intense stare panning the length of his body.

Adrien couldn’t help but notice the frazzled state his friend was in.

Her pig-tails were lopsided and frizzy, the red hair ties placed at different lengths on each sides. The blazer she sported was slightly off, despite the obvious effort that had been put in to iron it. Her skirt was ruffled in areas, even with the pleated design to keep it from crumpling. One of her socks had smudges of ink on it.

She looked as discombobulated as he felt.

“Yeah.” Adrien nodded, the word sounding laden and foreign as it rolled off his tongue.

Liar.

Just tell her what you came for.

Adrien glanced fleetingly at Sabine and frowned.

Marinette mimicked his expression.

“I need to talk to you. Alone.” He kept his voice low, pleading almost. “It’s about what happened.” All the bravado he had gathered on the trip here seemed to fall through the cracks of his tough exterior like sand. Just the mere acknowledgement of the incident was enough to send him spiraling into the depths of despair while simultaneously bringing his blood to a boil.

Judging by the look on Marinette’s face, she understood what he was talking about.

“Okay.” She said simply, her tone all but sepulchral.

She twisted around to address her mother, who he suspected had hung back and let them talk out of motherly politeness. The woman, now concerned by their solemn demeanor, lifted her chin to attention.

“Mama, do you mind giving us some privacy? Please?” Marinette requested quietly, holding Sabine’s gaze for a few moments.

An unspoken conversation passed between them before the ladder broke the silence.

“Of course, sweetie.” Sabine agreed hesitantly. She took uncertain steps towards them, and Adrien could practically see the worry lines in her forehead deepening.

(Who could blame her? I wouldn’t want my cute daughter to be alone with some guy they didn’t know.)

She stopped and pecked a kiss on Marinette’s cheek, squeezing her shoulder in a comforting way. Adrien knit his brows in discomfort; he was unversed when it came to witnessing such open displays of support and affection in light of the fact that he ceased receiving that luxury when his mother disappeared.

So unversed, apparently, that he flinched when Sabine patted his arm nicely.

“It was nice to meet you, Adrien. I’m guessing you’re the one who Marinette has been texting so often?” Sabine remarked warmly, catching Adrien completely off guard.

Oh. He thought, the crisis at hand momentarily forgotten. Heh.

“Mama!” Marinette hissed, turning pink. “Really?!”

The older woman smirked and whisked down the winding stairs that lead to the bakery without another word, the younger continuing to make indignant sounds after her. It was sort of endearing.

“Hell, darlin’, do you not text anyone else except me?” Adrien teased dryly once Sabine was safely out of hearing range, allowing himself a small grin. “I’m flattered!”

Marinette whirled around to face him, lips puckering into an embarrassed pout.

“No! I text everyone an equal amount, thank you very much.” She scrunched her nose meticulously and crossed her arms.

“But you still text me more, right?” Adrien chirped, removing his hands from his pockets to reveal a lighter and a cigarette pack. “Right?”

“I won’t tell. I guess you’ll have to live in suspense the rest of your life.” Marinette retorted cheekily, laying a hand over her heart. “How tragic.”

“Oh, indeed.” Adrien conceded, and just like that their banter hit a blissful lull.

Well.

The male absently knocked a cig from its encasement with his palm, holding it between his index finger and thumb. He tucked the pack back where it came from, disturbing Plagg in his hiding place. He knew well enough that Marinette would refuse if he offered her one.

I sure as hell need one right now, though.

Especially after what has happened…

Adrien began to remember his purpose for visiting and sobered up quickly. Their light-hearted atmosphere shriveled up like a leaf in winter the moment the end of the cigarette caressed his lips.

“May I?” He gestured to the lighter, waiting for Marinette’s approval. She grimaced, but nodded anyways.

Adrien took a few seconds to light the other end of the cig, sighing contently as he breathed in the smoke and watched it escape back out through his nostrils. This went on for a full two minutes before he spoke again.

“Sorry, I needed to relax a bit first. The whole Kim and Ivan situation has got me feelin’ like shit.” Adrien began roughly, coughing around the lump in his throat that definitely wasn’t residual tar from his smoking habit.

God, this is harder than I thought.

“You’re not alone, I feel just as bad.” Marinette sympathized, looking too guilty for someone who had nothing to do with the crime. For some reason, his heart ached painfully from seeing her crestfallen expression.

I should be the one wallowing in self-pity, not Marinette.

She’s too compassionate for her own good. Another voice echoed. And you’re not.

“…” He let the quiet surround them for a few more minutes, because talking about what happened was so damn hard and his request was too damn much to ask of someone. Damn his father for raising him to be this emotionally constipated for the benefit of his modeling career!

“…fuck!” He muttered, running his free hand through his already-messy blonde hair.

Chat Noir is so much better at this.

I’m just too prideful.

Gentle hands found his knuckle, curving around the underside of his fingers with the lightest of pressure. Warm skin brushed his cheek bone.

“Adrien, what did you want to talk about?” Marinette pressed, voice sharp and soft all at the same time. Under the scrutiny of her endlessly azure eyes, Adrien found the words that had refused to come out creep up his throat. When she caressed his hand fully, it all came spilling past his chapped lips.

“I have a big favor to ask of you. Like, a huge favor. Bigger than I should dare ask.” Adrien rasped, leaning into the friendly touch.

“No matter what you ask of me, I’ll still try my hardest to do it. That’s a promise.” Marinette gave a hint of a smile, giving him more courage.

Here goes nothing.

“Where Kim and Ivan were, where they were…there’s a bar near the crime scene, and I know the owner’s daughter. Can you go with me, this Friday night? To kind of investigate this mess, I mean?” Adrien rushed with his words, the hand holding his cigarette shaking from anxiety.

Marinette blinked in shock at him, her own hand falling back to her side.

“I feel like you can hold your own pretty well, and I feel I can’t ask anyone else to do this with me…and I just trust you for some reason. It’s no coincidence that Kim and Ivan were targeted, and I think I might have to do with me.” He took a quick puff of his cig to calm him nerves, accidentally blowing the smoke in his friend’s face; yet, she didn’t seem fazed.

“I-I…well, what about Ladybug and Chat Noir? Don’t you think you should leave stuff like this to them?” Marinette asked in a weird tone, her stare painstakingly neutral. Adrien noticed that whenever the topic of Ladybug and Chat Noir came up, Marinette became a different person; her shoulders tightened and she tended to avert her eyes from whoever she was talking to. Adrien thought it was odd to behave that way about individuals who saved lives on a day-to-day basis, but always chalked it up to shyness.

Not the time! A voice in his head admonished.

“Unless Ladybug or Chat Noir themselves demands that I stop, than I don’t think we should worry about them right now.” Adrien answered lightly, trying to divert attention away from his alter-ego.

Marinette brought a pale finger to her bottom lip, tapping on it thoughtfully. Where she compressed the plump skin, there was an obvious red mark left in her immaculately rounded nail’s wake.

“Why me? Why not ask Nino, or heaven forbid, Chloé to help you? I know Lila knows a few things about what happened, too.” She argued, forcing Adrien to look up from her lips.

What the hell would Lila know? Adrien made a mental note to pester his sly friend later.

“Because.” He motioned vaguely, cigarette smoke following closely behind his hand.

“Because what?” She was trying to be modest at this point.

He grinned wryly.

“Like I said before, darlin’, I trust you. My crew would just fuck things up, or anger the wrong person. I know you won’t make their mistakes, you’re too cunning for that to happen.” Marinette pinked at the ears from his compliment, fighting to keep her mouth from upturning in embarrassment. Adrien allowed himself to be pleased at the sight.

“Besides, you said yourself you would do your best to help me. Are you going to go back on your word?” He ventured so far as to tease, holding his cig between his teeth masterfully.

Marinette made a face at him.

“No, I like to keep the promises I make, thank you very much. I’ll help you, since you put so much faith into me.” She threaded her fingers in her air, sighing. “And even if not for you, my sense of justice would want to do it for Kim and Ivan. They may have gotten under my skin more times than I can count, but those two didn’t deserve this.”

“Agreed. For Kim and Ivan.” Adrien echoed solemnly.

A chasm of silence opened between them as they looked at each other, both mute with hidden thoughts that could not be voiced.

Adrien continued to smoke his cig, feeling slightly guilty for the scent that would settle on the furniture when he would eventually put it out.

Marinette peered over him in that curious way of hers, and he briefly wished that he was a mind reader if only he could know what she was thinking.

“Anything happen at school today? Didn’t have it in me to be in that hell hole this morning.” Adrien broke the quiet, shaking himself of inappropriate misconceptions that his train of thought would lead to.

Marinette appeared visibly exhausted at the mention of school, leaning towards him in the familiar way that Nathalie would whenever he bothered to ask her how an interview with a troublesome client went. Through the cloud of nicotine-smelling fog, he caught the whiff of freshly baked cookies that most likely clung to her uniform based on the fact that she lived above a bakery.

“Where do I even begin?”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow in dry humor.

“That bad?” He questioned.

“That bad.” Marinette nodded before diving into the shit show that was their homeroom earlier that day.

Tuesday Night

Chat Noir, for once, was early for patrol that evening.

He hovered on the outskirts of the rooftop of their meeting place, pacing back and forth before ultimately deciding to settle criss-cross on the ledge until Ladybug arrived. The harsh bite of uneven concrete dug into his rear, but Chat ignored it in favor of watching the moon usher away the lingering signs of the previous day. Although the night sky was overhead, brightly colored streaks of amber and violet chased the horizon line in lieu of the setting sun.

Adrien loved this time of day, when the moon became more prominent and the sun became a flurry of hues and contrasted the midnight sky with reds, oranges, and purples. And on any given patrol, he would try to savor such a relaxing and mesmerizing sight.

Yet…

With what has happened as of late, not even a bird’s eye view of the city and the sunset could calm the waves of anxiety in his head.

School had been terse and lonely, even with Nino and Chloé glued to his side practically the entire day. Alya, who finally realized he had developed a friendship with Marinette, had attempted to comfort their sad group (though to no avail). Everyone was on edge, understandably, because what happened to Kim and Ivan; plus, the perpetrator was still at large, so it could any one of them next.

But, the final nail in the coffin was when other students questioned where Ladybug and Chat Noir were, and why they didn’t stop the attack. This occurred in his philosophy class that he shared with Chloé, Alya, and Marinette.

Naturally, Alya and Chloé fought off the mounting accusations fiercely, defending their hero’s pride and credibility in a shocking moment of team work.

(“Ladybug and Chat Noir has saved us all countless times! Countless! They have gotten hurt for us! How dare you doubt their loyalty as the saviors of France!” Alya roared, slamming a fist on her open philosophy textbook.

“Ladybug and I are basically besties, and my bestie would have definitely stopped that criminal if she knew! Lowlifes like you have as much bravery combined as she has in her fingernail! You don’t deserve to talk about her that way, and Chat Noir too!” Chloé screeched at the class, the fire in her eyes ready to reduce anyone who made eye contact to ashes.

Adrien exchanged a look with Marinette, who smiled secretively to him, like if she herself was Ladybug, and was proud to have such vehement supporters.)

Guilt constricted Chat’s lungs upon remembering the fear and remorse on his peer’s faces, wishing with all his might that he could have prevented the attacker from ever existing. It was his duty, his required destiny, to keep the citizens of France safe. Ladybug and him were very serious about the burden put on their shoulders, which is the reason why an accident like this hasn’t come about in months.

Is it a coincidence that the people close to me were hurt? Should I really be that naïve?

If a thug had done this, the Mayor wouldn’t have been so freaky about publicizing the incident.

Could Hawkmoth know something about my identity…

He had voiced his concerns to Plagg, but his kwami brushed him aside quicker than usual, blabbing about how he was too paranoid. Adrien suspected Plagg knew more about the situation than he was willing to let on, but didn’t pester him anymore after that. Though it had only been a few days, he felt there was something much bigger in the works between the rising tension in his kwami and the inactivity of Hawkmoth.

He could only hope Plagg would tell him what exactly has been going on before it’s too late.

Soft footfall behind him indicated that Ladybug had arrived, along with the scattering of gravel beneath latex soles. He sensed her every move as she padded towards him, seating herself on the ledge as well. Their shoulders touched, and Ladybug gently slipped her hand in his for comfort. Embarrassed heat spread across his chest, yet Chat chose to ignore the fire in his stomach for now.

When he looked at her, the stare she gave him was startling intense.

“Chat Noir, we have a problem.” Ladybug began, “I trust you’ve heard about Lê Chiến Kim and Ivan Bruel?”

“I have, yes.” More than you know, he almost said.

“And have you watched the news lately?” Ladybug inquired, expression and tone anomalous. He dully noted that the iconic pig-tails she sported were messy and uneven, deviating from the normal stringent style he was used to.

Huh?

“Well…uh, yes? Kind of…father only lets me watch certain channels.” Adrien could only ever watch political debates and educative programs carefully selected by Nathalie that were Gabriel Approved™.

“…oh. So you haven’t heard, then?” Ladybug, in the dying light of day, paled so much that the tan dusting of freckles on her nose were starkly noticeable. “Chat, Nadja Chamack is building a story around us as the prime suspects of the crime. She did a briefing on Monday night, that damned woman making me look like the bad guy in out interview.”

His heart skipped a beat out of fear.

“Interview?”

“God…okay, let me fill you in on what happened to me the other day.” Ladybug then went on to recount her run in with Nadja Chamack, and their unsettling interview. Chat felt chills run down his spine when she told him about a mysterious outside source, flashes of the Copycat akuma haunting his vision. Additionally, she informed him of the Mayor’s sketching actions and the downward spiral of faith the populace had in them. Stuff he already knew, but details nonetheless.

But, this sounds different…could someone, like a civilian, be trying to frame us?

What is their motive?

By the time Ladybug finished her encounter, Chat’s head was spinning. How could so much change in the span of a single day? His talk with Marinette had left him hopeful, sure that her brain and brawn paired with his nefarious connections to underground Paris would upheave some dirt on their target. This entire ordeal would just make things harder for him.

“Ladybug, you don’t think anyone would fall for this ploy again…would they?” He whispered, the ice in his veins refusing to thaw.

“They have once, and they will again. At first, I thought it was some petty crime corporation that did this…now I don’t know what to think. The night that it happened, my kwami acted strange. She keeps telling me that she doesn’t know anything, but I know she’s withholding information.” Ladybug fondly caressed her earrings, tone downtrodden and worried. “What could be so dangerous that she can’t even tell me?”

“I don’t know, but my kwami has been acting like that, too. Whatever is going on, I have a sick feeling it’s all connected to Hawkmoth.” Chat thumbed his ring, pressing on the steely surface with conviction.

“I thought so, too. I did a lot of thinking yesterday, and I have reason to believe that Hawkmoth has teamed up with a willing akuma candidate. You know, civilian by day, akumatized by night? It could explain his radio silence for the last week.”

By god, she might be right.

“Yeah, you could be right!” Chat exclaimed, suddenly excited by the realization. “Heck, that mysterious source that Nadja Chamack has been talking to could be the accomplice! Ladybug, you’re a genius!”

Ladybug threw him a cheeky smirk.

“I know. Nice attention to detail yourself, because now we have a lead in this whole mess. Let’s make sure that bullshit story Nadja is building never sees the light of day!”

“Agreed, m’lady! You’ll be happy to hear that I’ve already committed to investigating outside the mask with someone.” Chat beamed proudly, the awful atmosphere from before lifting.

Our kwamis may not want to help us, but that didn’t stop Lady and I from coming up with a solid answer!

Ladybug perked curiously at his revelation.

“Really? Do you trust him? And is he trustworthy?” She prodded, leaning in slightly.

Chat couldn’t stop the blush from rising to his cheeks at her wrong assumption.

“W-Well, she’s pretty brave and kind, so yes I trust her. She’s almost as trustworthy as you, in fact. If you could meet her, I think you two would get along well.” Marinette’s gentle, but stern face bubbled to the top of his mind as he spoke. It was easier to think about her as Chat Noir than it was as Adrien, and he allowed himself to feel vulnerable as a result; the sensation was nice.

I wish Adrien could cope with emotions as well as Chat Noir.

Ladybug abruptly ripped her hand away from his, and Chat looked up just in time to catch the raw expression on her face.

What?

“She sounds dandy, but I would never want to meet her.” His partner declared coldly, standing up. “It could put both of our identities at risk.”

Chat jumped up, something dreadful curling around his heart.

“M’lady, it was just a thought. Don’t take it too seriously.” He watched as she briskly put space between them, assiduous in hiding her face from his.

She was fine when she thought Marinette was a guy…

Is she upset that it’s another girl…no, Ladybug would never be that petty…

“I would hope so! Since you trust her so much, I can only imagine what you’ve revealed to her so far.” Ladybug huffed, and crossed her arms slyly.

Did she just…

“What are you insinuating, Ladybug? That I would throw my secret away that easily?” Chat was beginning to get angry, something he never got with Ladybug. For the amount of respect and awe he held for her, he simply could not allow that reverence to overshadow the fact that she had just disrespected him.

“You said it, not me.” Ladybug sniffed.

Chat’s already short fuse became nonexistent.

“How dare you! I would never do that, not to myself, and not to you! Despite what you believe, I care about protecting who I am just as much as you! I can’t believe you have so little faith in me.” Chat was shouting, and didn’t care that someone might hear him. “What’s worse is that you don’t even know my friend, but you think she would tell everyone about my secret if I were to tell her! How can you judge her like that if you don’t know firsthand how much she reminds me of you!”

“Don’t you compare her to me, dammit!” She spun on her heel, jabbing a finger in his direction. “I’m just worried, okay?! We need to be on our guard after all that’s happened.”

Ladybug appeared as if she was about to cry, and from what Chat did not have the privilege of knowing.

“Yeah, well, it seems to me like you’re more concerned about yourself and how my actions could affect you. For someone who acts so selfless, you sure know how to be selfish.”

Ladybug stiffened at his comment. In the moonlight, he swore he saw something shiny fall from her eyes.

“Chat Noir, I think we should start patrol before both of us say something we might really regret.” Her voice was wavering, but the threat presented itself loud and clear: if he wanted to leave unscathed, this would be the time.

I see how it is.

“Fine. Run away from our problems like you do best, see if I care.” Chat waved his hand dismissively, gripping his baton in the other. “Maybe on Saturday’s patrol, you’ll be over this.”

She swiped at her watery eyes, sniffing loudly before turning her back to him. With her yoyo in hand, Ladybug leaped into the night air and promptly vanished from his line of sight.

Chat Noir did the same, vaulting in the opposite direction. Guilt pricked at his heart, though as Nathalie had told him countless times, ‘there’s no use crying over spilled milk’. Let bygones be bygones, he supposed.

Little did he know that Ladybug wasn’t crying because she was angry at him, nor from the fact that they had a petty fight; on the contrary, she was merely suffering from a broken heart.

Ahahaha...so not sorry for that ending. Just like canon Adrien is oblivious to Marinette's feelings, Chat Noir with canon Adrien's personality is oblivious to Ladybug's feelings for him (honestly Marinette and Ladybug in the show have a thin membrane separating their personalities, so they act the same in my eyes).

Next chapter will be centered around Adrien and Marinette's visit to the bar and crime scene, possibly with Marinette still feeling hurt over Chat's lady crush ;;;)))

#my writing #cal #cigarettes and leather #ml #ml badboy #ml badboy au #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction

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