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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years ago

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if I can never give you peace — zero || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count (chapter): 5.8k

Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers, heavy on angst, slow burn, eventual smut

Warnings & Tags (chapter): Descriptions of Violence, Tension, Dehumanization and general poor treatment of hybrids

A/N: So I have two modes and those are tooth-rotting fluff and angst feast. This is... not fluff. I hope you’ll enjoy this first installment and introduction to the series, and I will see you soon for the next one!

Your eyes follow Jungkook’s every step as he walks through the crowd and enters the cage that serves as a ring. He doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re watching. You’re always watching. You’re standing in your usual corner, from where you make sure everything goes smoothly. Two tall, muscular men stand on either side of you. They look like they’re your bodyguards, but really, they’re here to handle him if he tries to do something. To everyone in the room but the two of you, this looks like every other fight night since the very first time he came to the Circle.

You’re too far for him to smell you, especially over the crowd of excited, sweaty men, but if he did, he’s sure he would pick up on the bitter scent of anxiety, would hear your heart beating a little too fast. He’d say you’re lucky the guards aren’t hybrids, but he knows that’s not the case. You never count on luck. Everybody knows that. That’s what makes you so good at your job. That’s what might just save his life.

He glances at you, finds your eyes glued on him, and gives you a smirk, which reveals his abnormally pointy teeth for a rabbit hybrid. It’s been over a year since they’ve been sharpened for him, to make him look more threatening. You’re used to them, but he still sees you swallow. For the first time he wonders, vaguely, if you had any say in that. You’re the one he meets with nowadays, but you’re not his owner, after all.

Your eyes leave him to look at his opponent. The man’s taller and has broad shoulders, he seems to have some training based on his on-guard position, and he’s older than him. You couldn’t find many informations on him, but based on his attributes, he’s probably some kind of dog hybrid.

You both know he doesn’t stand a chance.

“On my left,” the announcer roars, “some fresh meat! I give you… Jin!”

There are enthusiastic shouts, and the man shoots nervous glances around him at the crowd all around him. It’s clear that he isn’t used to that type of setting, and you feel an unexpected wave a guilt in your chest. He’s going to get destroyed tonight, you’re sure of it. You’re the one who suggested that Jungkook should fight a newbie, for the show. You don’t regret your decision, but you don’t feel good about it either.

“And on my right! The man who needs no introduction, who has won thirty! Two! Fights in a row, I give you… Jungkook!”

The crowd goes hysterical, and the hybrid facing him winces again. If he thought he had chance before that, it’s clear that he doesn’t anymore. You wonder if he’d heard about Jungkook, if his owners had prepared him well enough, if whoever owned him was betting against him. You wonder if he’d just been told he would be fighting a rabbit hybrid and assumed he would be fine.

Jungkook’s long ears are flat against his head, carefully tucked under a headband, and without those, he doesn’t look like a rabbit hybrid, too tall and broad-shouldered. Then again, he had never really been your typical rabbit hybrid.

Truth was, you had been relieved when you had been assigned to working for the daughter of Mr. Xanders. Your whole life, you had known you would end up here. Your dad had worked for the Family since before your birth, and though it was clear your mom disapproved, she had never held any illusion that you would escape it. If anything, you were the sacrifice, a way of making sure your siblings wouldn’t be forced to work for the most powerful crime family in town. That was, if you did good enough.

Getting assigned to the girl who was nicknamed “the Princess” was both a blessing and a curse. It meant you got to stay away from most of the illegal stuff, as the girl was notoriously sheltered from all of that by her father. However, it also meant that you had to basically babysit the spoiled seventeen years old, despite her being only a few years younger than you. You had dressed as professionally and sternly as you could, adorning yourself in a dark woman’s suit, but she hadn’t seemed impressed.

That was how you found yourself here, at an auction for rare hybrids. You thought the whole thing was grim — oh, how naive you had to be back then, to think this was bad — but you had obeyed orders without batting an eye. You had to do this right, and this was a pretty easy job, after all.

You gritted your teeth silently as various hybrids were brought on stage, exhibited and bought, one by one. The status of hybrids was a complicated subject in the country, always had been, but you had grown up in a poor area, where a lot of hybrids lived freely, and the idea of owning what you knew to be a person made you sick to your stomach. At least the Princess hadn’t said a word the whole time you’d been there, and you had hopes that you would leave without — God — buying someone.

Naive. So damn naive.

“I want this one,” the girl had announced decidedly, pointing at the stage with a movement of her chin.

Shit.

You looked at the stage. There, the auctioneer was highly praising the hybrid who had last been brought on stage. A surprisingly tall and muscular rabbit hybrid, with fluffy black hair and long ears falling on either side of his head. He was shaking slightly, sending terrified looks around him, and your heart tightened in your chest.

Naive and soft.

“Are you sure?” you asked, and the girl rolled her eyes.

“Do your job. Get him for me.”

Numbers flashed in your mind, the exact amount of money you were allowed to spend clear as day. It made you feel a little better, for a second. This was what you were good with; numbers, facts, informations. If you thought of the hybrid as just that — a number, an element to compose with — you should be able to do what you were supposed to do. Do your damn job, and ensure your little brother never ever had to work here, because they wouldn’t be as kind to him.

You took a deep breath, and, after a few people had already considerably raised the price, you made your bid.

Jungkook walks to the center of the ring, arms raised high. He’s good at giving a show, good at most things, actually. He looks good here, confident, knowing exactly what he’s worth, and he’s nothing like what he was that first day. There is absolutely no fear on his face as he fists the air and people shout for him. Instead, he seems to be positively thriving on the attention he’s getting.

He’s a favorite here, because he always gives people what they came for. He makes the fight last, makes it theatrical, with twists and impressive moves. It’s been a while since he’s struggled in a fight, really struggled, which has made it easier. You recognize you’ve played your part in that. You have your word to say when picking his opponents, and you don’t want him to— well, to die, or to be too badly injured.

You know it’s not much. You know no matter what you tell yourself, that’s not protecting him. You know you should have acted a lot earlier.

But you didn’t.

They gave you Jungkook as soon as the payment was confirmed, which didn’t take long. People were fidgeting in the room, careful not to stare too long at the Princess. They knew who she was, of course. The bodyguards and your ghostly presence, one step behind her, did not do anything to soothe their nerves. No one actually knew you back then. You hadn’t earned your reputation of efficiency, no one had called you a cold-hearted bitch yet, though that would pretty much become your identifier, but you were still somewhat unnerving, with your stillness and your all black attire.

Which was why you never tried to add color to it.

The Princess seemed to be in her element, not bothered by the silence and people’s obvious fear of her, even for a second. Instead, she was watching her acquisition. The hybrid — Jungkook, you remembered, because you’d heard his name after winning the auction — was staring at the floor, stealing glances at her every once in a while, before quickly looking away again. He was clearly shy, and terrified, and it looked like the Princess liked that.

When they handed the leash to her, she was quick to clip it on his collar, and you held back your disgust. Your mind went to Mark, a kind golden retriever hybrid you had grown up with, and the idea of him being collared like that almost made you retch.

But, of course, none of that could be seen on your face. You had been told that you had the perfect poker face, unreadable at all times. In moments like this, it was a true blessing.

“Hello, Jungkook, I’m Anna, and I’m your new owner. I’m going to take good care of you.”

Then Jungkook looked up at her, briefly, and an adorable smile curved his lips.

You knew then that this could only end in pain and heartbreak.

Once Jungkook is done, he turns to face Jin. The other hybrid looks like he wants to run away, but even if he tried it, he’d be pushed right back in. So he does the smart thing, and prepares himself for the fight, lifting his hands to protect himself. Jungkook does the same thing. There is a brief moment of silence, everyone bracing themselves for what is to come. Despite his earlier display, Jungkook is deathly calm now, every muscle in his body ready for action.

The second the bell rings, Jungkook is moving, so fast he’s almost blurry, and you have to avert your eyes when his fist connects with the other hybrid’s chest.

This all feels like it could have been avoided.

A relationship quickly developed between the shy bunny and the Princess. You didn’t say anything about it; that wasn’t what you were here for. A baby-sitter, sure, but not a chaperone. Anyway, it seemed like Mr. Xanders wasn’t too worried about that, and his daughter was free to do whatever she wanted as long as she didn’t get pregnant. You supposed a hybrid was the perfect choice for that, with how rare it was for them to have children with a human. It could happen, of course, but it was highly unlikely without medical assistance.

Still, you weren’t sure you liked the relationship all that much. It just felt like Anna had so much power over him. He was a couple of years older than her, since selling hybrids under eighteen was technically illegal, but it was clear from the very beginning that he had been sheltered and didn’t have much experience in— well, in any areas. A sickening feeling told you that had probably been done on purpose by the people who had raised him. You were well aware of what rabbit hybrids were usually bought for.

You watched, silently, as they got close, as Anna’s hands started to easily find Jungkook’s, as Jungkook started to rest his head on her shoulder, to scent her, as he fell in love with her. Today, maybe you would have been annoyed at the sight, annoyed by his innocence, but back then, it only made you sad.

You were also there to see Anna grow bored of him. It didn’t even take her that long, no more than a couple of months.

When she insisted on going to another hybrid auction, and asked you to bid on someone else, you knew that it was over.

“Get him to fight,” Mr. Xanders told you dismissively at a meeting you had with him. “I want the money he cost me back.”

“He’s a rabbit hybrid,” you had said, frowning. “He’s not exactly the fighting type.”

“I didn’t tell you to make him win,” he scoffed. “I don’t care if you have to bet against him. Get my money back. After that, I don’t care what you do with him.”

You didn’t realize then that that was a ‘promotion’, and that this meant you would start working in illegal settings. All you knew was the painful weight in your chest at the idea of sending Jungkook to his death. You had kept away from him, not trying to create any bonds with him, but he smiled politely and kindly when he saw you.

God, he was in love with Anna. You were sure he had noticed her losing interest in him, but you also believed he held out hope. This could— This would probably be crushing for him.

So you took the matter into your own hands. You didn’t just sign him up for an upcoming fight, but you also found him a trainer, the best you could.

“Does Anna want me to learn how to fight?” he had asked you, big brown eyes looking at you, when you had told him about the training. “So I can be her bodyguard?”

“My orders don’t come from Anna,” you’d answered, trying to stay as distant as possible.

“But will she— Do you think she’ll like me again, if I learn to fight?”

No. You thought Anna had gotten everything she wanted from him.

“I don’t know,” you had answered. You couldn’t. You couldn’t do it.

The first fight had been brutal. Devastating, in fact. Jungkook had been training, and you’d been told he was good at what he was doing, but, as a newbie, he’d been sent against an expert fighter — “for the show”, you’d heard, the exact same thing you would use as well, years later —, and you were later told he was lucky he’d made it out alive.

You stayed next to him in the hospital room. As a hybrid, he healed quickly, but he still looked terrible, body marred with black and blue, lip busted, and black eyes. When he woke up, he looked around the room, every movement he made clearly painful, and you knew, at his expression, that there was only one thing he thought about in that moment.

Anna wasn’t there.

You would never forget the look he gave you then. The way he set his jaw, the way something hardened in his eyes.

“Get out,” he had said, and you were pretty sure he had meant for it to sound aggressive, but he wasn’t good at it yet, so it was more pleading.

You had gotten up, made a move to— to pat his shoulder, to do something, but you had refrained and your hand had fallen down to your side.

“I’m sorry,” you had said, and you had left him alone in there, with his broken hopes and heart.

That night was the first and last time you considered leaving your job.

But there was no quitting, where you worked.

In the ring, of course, Jungkook is good. He leaves an opening for the guy to place a few punches, ones that can’t hurt him too much. The crowd is delirious, bets are being placed. There’s a rumor that Jungkook was injured at the last fight so tonight could be the night where he loses his title, couldn’t it? The first round is coming to an end, and he doesn’t seem to have done much so, surely, he’s not going to be able to end that guy by the third, like he usually does — and if he does, hey, at least they’ll have had one hell of a show.

The three rounds thing is something you asked him to do after an organizer told you people needed that to feel they had gotten their money’s worth. You had told Jungkook, and he’d growled an answer, but he had never won in less than that since. For all his obvious hatred of you, the organization, and everything that surrounded him, he didn’t actively oppose you most of the time. He had tried to run away, twice, but when those attempts had failed, he had seemed to realize that it was just easier to go with the flow.

When the second round starts, though, he goes wild. His bare feet are light on the floor, his fists quick and precise. He doesn’t leave anything to luck either. Every punch lands exactly where he wants it to, when he wants it to. He dodges his opponent’s attacks easily, and he sees in his eyes the moment when the man realizes that he’s not winning this. He sees confidence turn into surprise, then into fear, and it only makes him want blood.

His right hook hits the man in the jaw with all the power he can put into it, and this time you don’t wince. You’ve gotten used to the violence now — it always takes you a while — and you’re mostly impressed at how good Jungkook is.

But that’s exactly why you’re in this situation, isn’t it?

“We should put him down,” Mr. Xanders said, with the exact same dismissive tone he had used years ago to tell you to make Jungkook fight, and you looked at him in disbelief. Surely, surely, he didn’t mean—

“I really disapprove of that solution, dad,” Anna said, shaking her head, and you realized he did.

You had been surprised by Anna’s presence, when you had walked into the office. You hadn’t worked for her in a long time, having graduated to far worse things. You had served your purpose, you supposed, made yourself practically indispensable when it came to the organizing of the Family’s business, as you knew the workings of the Family in and out, both legal and… less legal aspects. No one had ever said anything about your siblings joining.

“He attacked someone,” her father simply shrugged.

“If I may, Mr. X, it was after a fight and the man was being really aggressive after he lost the money he’d bet against—”

“I don’t care,” he said, waving his hand like you were just an annoying fly. “He attacked a human. We can’t have our hybrids doing that, otherwise it will just be chaos. You’re smart enough to know that.”

You swallowed. Something inside you was screaming. You had long shut down any form of moral compass, but it seemed like Jungkook always awoke the last remnants of it. You were pretty sure he despised you now, and you didn’t blame him for it. But, just like what you’d thought when Anna had bought him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this just wasn’t right.

“I understand, sir.”

“That’s a horrible thing you’re doing, dad,” Anna insisted. “I thought you’d try to at least reason with him, (Y/N).”

That wasn’t your job. You knew when your opinion was asked on those things, and now was not one of those times. You also knew that you hated that she called you by your first name, like the two of you were friends, and you didn’t say anything about that either.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Mr. Xanders said warmly, like he had just refused to buy her an expensive toy, and not condemned a man to death. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Anna sighed and rolled her eyes, and you assumed she’d probably stay mad at him for a while. But not too long.

Your heart was beating so loud in your chest you barely heard Mr. Xanders dismissing you, and you were relieved to be left alone when you walked out. There was only one thing you wanted to be thinking about now.

How were you going to save Jungkook’s life?

Jin hits the floor and doesn’t get up. It’s not an actual knock-out, because he’s still moving around, but Jungkook doubts he’ll even try to get back on his feet. The guy seems to be smart, he probably realizes that that would be suicide. Another minute with him on the ring? Nah. That would be a really, really stupid thing to do. Jungkook’s knuckles are bleeding — he doesn’t think they’ve been intact once in the four years he’s been fighting — and he’s pretty much unstoppable, right now.

He lets the referee grab his arm and lift it in the air as the crowd screams. They’re particularly loud tonight, because he won in two rounds. It’s not really a surprise when they force the entrance of the cage, flooding it, and Jungkook looks for you, almost instinctively. When he finds you, your eyes are on your phone. You look like you couldn’t care less about what’s happening around you, and he knows you do genuinely dislike the fights. You’ve never made it a secret. You’ve never taken care of the other hybrids owned by the family who participate, either. He doesn’t know if he’s your burden, or if you’re the one who chooses to still do that. Before, he wouldn’t have doubted it. Now… He’s not so sure.

Your eyes flicker up to his for a second, and you nod, imperceptibly. Your heart is probably beating as loud as his right now, though for different reasons.

Jungkook examines you, takes in how out of place you are in that environment, immaculately dressed, small glasses on your nose, hair pulled back, and lets himself be amused by it, one last time.

And then he’s gone.

You only visited Jungkook when there was about to be a fight, and it was clear he really didn’t like it when you showed up. You always seemed to be interrupting him, whether it was a training session or a work-out. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him do something other than those two things. You didn’t know if he had anything else.

You brought some food from a restaurant he liked, as you usually did, and got some things for the guards who would be around. That wasn’t as usual, but you had done it before, so hopefully it wouldn’t make anyone suspicious and it would allow you to have some privacy with Jungkook.

He sat down opposite from you, immediately diving into the food you’d brought, and you watched silently. His shoulders were tense, never completely down but, though he would hate to admit it, he was more relaxed around you than around anyone else. It said a lot about his life, about how desperate he was for any form of companionship, that the way you told him about his opponents almost made him feel like you cared about him. It said a lot that your presence comforted him, and it was pretty pathetic, if you asked him.

“So, who am I fighting?” he asked while eating. He never bothered with his manners when he was around you.

“A newbie,” you said. “Some fighting training from what I’ve gathered, but he shouldn’t be an issue.”

He growled. The sound was unnatural for a rabbit hybrid, but he had mastered it over the years. It was a good way of intimidating people.

“Really? I thought I told you I wanted a challenge.”

You didn’t reply immediately, and that made him look up at you. When he did, you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, hesitant. That was completely out of character. Then, you made up your mind, and your expression turned back to the unreadable one he was so familiar with.

“Keep eating, and don’t raise your voice” you ordered.

He lifted an eyebrow. Normally, he would have done something like folding his arms and waited for more, in a defiant attitude, but this was you. You would never do something like that just to assert your power over him. He hated your guts, but that was one thing he could say about you.

“Mr. X is going to have you killed because you attacked that man at your last fight.”

There. Direct, to the point, not a useless word — though you couldn’t bring yourself to use the words “put you down”. Jungkook froze for a half a second, than resumed his eating, albeit slower than before.

“It was all good as long as long as I brought him money, but he doesn’t want any trouble for it, huh?”

His voice was bitter and low, barely more than a rumble. You were confident no one was paying attention to you, since the guards ate in another part of the house and no one cared about what you were saying. They could see you through the picture window, but they couldn’t read lips. Still, you lowered your voice as well.

“Win your next fight in two rounds,” you said, instead of answering him.

He shot you a dirty glance.

“Do you really think that’s what I—”

“That should get the crowd to lose their mind,” you continued. You had gone through all the possibilities in your mind, over and over again. This was the one that was the safest for you and your family, while giving Jungkook a reasonable chance of survival. “When that happens, you’ll use the hysteria to leave through your opponent’s entrance.”

This got his attention, and he stopped trying to interrupt you, finally focusing on your words.

“I can probably get you somewhere between five and ten minutes before everyone finds out you’re missing.”

He scoffed.

“That’s very generous of you.”

“I also won’t look too hard for you,” you added, because you would obviously be in charge of that as well. “So as long as you don’t do a terrible job hiding, we probably won’t find you. Stay away from hotels, and don’t get noticed.”

Jungkook stayed silent for a while. He didn’t look at you, jaw set, and you were pretty sure he was weighing the pros and cons of your plan.

“I don’t know if there’ll be another chance,” you told him truthfully. “They want you gone after the fight.”

The silence went on a little longer, before Jungkook spoke again.

“Anna’s said yes to that?”

You didn’t miss the way his voice faltered on her name. You didn’t think he had spoken to her in years, but he still had a soft spot for her, and being reminded of it always made you sad. You had accepted, a long time ago, that life wasn’t fair, but that was particularly true when it came to him. None of what had happened to him was fair. The shy boy with the wide eyes you’d helped buy at the auction deserved better. You didn’t, probably deserved every single bad thing that had happened to you, but for him, you wished you had done something — anything — differently. So you wouldn’t be faced with a jaded, cynical version of that boy right now.

“She opposed it, but her father is still going through with it.”

“So she didn’t oppose it much.”

You didn’t answer that. It was true, and you both knew it.

You glanced at your watch. Your time here was almost over, and you had a lot of responsibilities.

“Will you do it?”

Jungkook glanced at you, eyes wary.

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth? You could just do that so you could have me killed and say I tried to escape.”

You shook your head, almost amused by the possibility.

“I would gain nothing from doing that, and if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t go about it that way. Will you do it?”

This time, he nodded. He didn’t trust you, but he thought you were telling the truth on this. So following your plan would be just as well.

“Good. I’ll see you for the fight.”

This would have been a good moment to wish him good luck, probably, but you didn’t do luck, so you didn’t say anything. You gave him a quick nod, gathered your things, and then you were out.

You didn’t think to say goodbye.

“We’ll get him when the crowd’s dispersed,” one of the bodyguards says, and you hum noncommittally in response, eyes on your phone.

Moron.

If these two were the ones you usually work with, they would know that your usual protocol is to go get Jungkook as soon as the referee’s lifted his hand up. That way, you can get him out as quickly as possible and you don’t have to worry about him getting mobbed. But you’ve changed your team the day Mr. Xanders asked you to ‘put Jungkook down’, so they have no idea. It’s been a week since then, which shouldn’t make it too suspicious. Hopefully.

When the crowd does move enough to see what’s going on in the cage — three minutes — one of the two men says, voice worried, “Hey, can you see him?”

Your head snaps up and your eyes scan the room. You’re relieved to see that Jungkook’s nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?” you ask urgently, and the men seem to shrink under your glare, exchanging worried glances. You roll your eyes and sigh. This may be your plan, but they’re still acting incompetent. Which is good for you, sure, but the perfectionist in you is annoyed.

“You two should pray he’s in the changing room,” you spit out as you march towards it. It takes some struggle, because the crowd isn’t exactly calming down, but it’s not too long.

Of course, Jungkook isn’t in the changing room. It was a bad idea to go look there anyway — usually you would probably have already informed everyone that he had disappeared — but these two don’t seem to realize that.

“Go search the fighting room,” you order, “make sure you haven’t missed anything. Then check the surroundings. I’ll stay there. Let me know if you find something.”

They practically run out, and you allow yourself to sit down. This isn’t even dangerous yet. If Jungkook’s done that part correctly, he should already be too far for them to find him. As far as you’re concerned, you’ve bought him — you check your watch — seven minutes. But even if you don’t doubt him, you still feel terror at the idea they could catch him. You don’t know what would happen then. You don’t want to think about it.

The seconds tick by. It’s been almost exactly ten minutes when your phone rings.

“Hello, Miss—”

“Do you have him?” you bark.

There’s a silence.

“I want an answer!” you snap.

“No. I’m sorry. We’ve lost him.”

You hang up immediately and start to dial another number to let people know Jungkook’s missing.

But, before you actually call, you let out a brief sigh of relief.

This just might work.

You get home late the following night. When you do, you’re absolutely exhausted. You’ve had a terrible day, unable to sleep a wink, and you got thoroughly chewed out over Jungkook going missing. You think Mr. X was suspicious of you, because you basically don’t fuck up, ever, but then Anna started to wax poetics about how “Jungkook was a soul who wanted to live”, and you don’t think he bought it, but it at least got his mind off of you.

You doubt he’d get you killed over that, it just isn’t worth it and you’re pretty valuable, but it would be much better if he didn’t think about it too much.

You’ve organized the searches, pretty sloppily in your own opinion. Of course, it’s possible that they could find him, but if Jungkoook does his part, everything should be okay.

You remove your shoes with a groan when you walk in. You usually never regret wearing heels, thankful for the centimeters they help you gain, but tonight you definitely do. Keeping them on for two days was not how they had been intended to be used.

Once they’re off your feet, you painfully walk to your kitchen. All you want to do is to make yourself a cup of tea before going to bed, but you stop yourself before grabbing your kettle.

Something feels— off. You’re probably the only person who could notice it, because you’re so obsessive with everything that’s in your home, but you just can’t miss it. It’s not much, just some items that aren’t where they should be, or that were moved a little to the side.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you hesitantly grab a knife from your kitchen drawer. You don’t think that would do anything, if someone was in your apartment right now, because you can’t fight and, considering the people you work for, you’re pretty sure if someone wanted to kill you they would, but it makes you feel better.

You make your way through the living-room slowly, heart hammering in your chest. You check the bathroom, first. No one’s in there, but it’s clear that whoever was there used it as well. He didn’t put your toothpaste back where it belonged.

That only leaves your room. You walk in, carefully, to find it empty. Your bed’s done, though not exactly how you do it, and that confuses you. At least until your eyes find the necklace that’s on your bedside table.

It’s the identifying tag Jungkook wore around his neck for fights. You reach out for it, in disbelief, and that only confirms what you thought.

A laugh bubbles in your throat, and you just can’t hold it in. It escapes your lips, breaking the silence that always reigns in your apartment.

Here. He was here, in the eye of the storm, while everyone was looking for him. You have no idea where he is now, but this makes you feel like he’ll be fine. Clearly, he is a smart man and he has resources.

You fall to the ground, lean against your bed, holding the tag in your hand. You give yourself a second. That’s more than you usually get. It’s a second to close your eyes and feel grateful and happy about what happened, a second to think that perhaps not everything is dark and terrible in the world.

A second, because Jungkook made it out.

And then, you open your eyes, and you come back to your reality, which is that you’ll be working for the family tomorrow, and the day after that, and probably for the rest of your life. There’s no out for you. No hope.

But at least Jungkook should be fine. You’ll never know about it, because if he is, then you’ll never hear about him again.

If you ever do, it will only mean bad news.

Thank you for reading! I hope you’ve enjoyed this first chapter and feel free to let me know if you would like to be tagged for future ones!

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook #jeon jungkook #hybrid jungkook #candywrites

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blueprint-han · 4 years ago

Text

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay skznta event, written for @stayndays !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it! ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”.

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them.

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock.

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.”

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose.

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date.

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too.

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter.

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it.

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion?

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own?

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

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crispycrimebrulee · 4 years ago

Note

Okay so I totally just stalked your blog and I loved the adult trio wedding thing, so can I have Kurapika and Leorio’s reaction to you walking down the aisle for the first time?

im very much in a wedding mood, im honestly starting to miss going to weddings, sigh

Leorio

Although Leorio isn’t bawling his eyes out, he’s very much glassy eyed

Glassy eyed and absolutely dumbstruck, because it’s hitting him all at once with you walking down the aisle and all his friends getting to witness this happening and mostly you looking absolutely stunning-

I mean sure, there was a practice walk down the aisle during wedding rehearsals, and he figured it would be easy, considering at the time you were in casual clothes but now? Dressed to the nines, the light hitting your perfectly and the music and youre just radiating such stunning energy, now he’s like WOW this is NOTHING like rehearsal!!

Falling in love all over again~

Are his hands a little sweaty? Probably

The song he’d pick for you walking down the aisle (imo, at least) would be Beautiful by Bazzi, but just the instrumental version!

His vows do a lot of mentioning on keeping you happy and taken care of, and they’re a little long? He’s probably written them out a handful of times, trying to get the words right

I am very much in a wedding mood so how about….the whole wedding???

Somewhat a simple wedding, very much a classic/formal one with all its bells and whistles

Theres surprisingly not a lot of people there; your family, his med school friends and his non-med school friends, and a handful of other special guests

Also to note, his suit is fitted and black, and he’s got a flower from one of the wedding bouquets in his pocket as a little pizzazz

That First Dance is gonna be something

He had a little trouble grasping it during rehearsals, and it shows just a little bit

He likes having one hand on the small of your back while your head rests against his shoulder, and he picked a very soft piano song for it

Cutting the wedding cake ( a white and gold lemon cake with some flowers decorating the side ) is his confirmation of a (hopeful) forever with you. Sure, proposing and the wedding is confirmation enough, but getting to cutting this cake almost seals it for him

He keeps it class throughout the whole wedding, except for the after party, or at least the later part of the reception

He’s telling your family about all the wild stories from when he took the Hunters Exam, and making sure your family is well aware that he can keep you out of harms way

After the whole wedding, knowing you survived that epic day….he will call you nothing but “my wife/husband/spouse” for the next 2 weeks. Y/n? y/n? You mean “I have to run that by the wife”, “let me call my husband first”, “I’ll let my spouse know”

Please refer to him as your husband, he’ll be grinning for the rest of the day

Kurapika

Kurapika took his contacts off for this, whats the use in hiding the emotion?

Not that...yknow, his inability to keep tears from trailing down his face is indication enough

Coupled with his eyes glowing red, being locked on you as you come closer, he has to keep himself from running up to you and carrying you bridal style for the rest of the way

As soon as you stand near him on the alter, his hands are on your face real gentle like, almost as if he’s making sure you’re real

Think about it!! After everything he’s been through in his life, plus you coming along and making the days a whole lot better, you never giving up on him day in and day out, plus you agreeing to marry him, the day finally being here, the natural sunlight and the flowers and everything else, he’s smitten and he’s thanking each and every one of his lucky stars that you picked him

His vows consist of mentioning how youre a blessing to him, and how nothing would stop him from protecting you, and always reminding you what you mean to him, and how he believes in A Forever if it means he gets to have a Forever with you :’)

This is an outdoor wedding, in the middle of a flower field in spring, when its not too hot and not too cold, perfect enough that an outdoor wedding can happen

Almost like a garden party theme mixed with traditional aspects (traditional ranging from your culture, his, and a classic wedding) and it all comes together quite nicely

A decent sized guests list; your family and his with ample space for seating and dancing

At this point in the event, your first dance happens when the sun is setting, giving you perfect golden-y mood lighting, with some impromptu folk music

He’s practiced well for this dance, and he leads it the whole way, occasionally placing little kisses on your forehead, as well as squeezing your hand while the two of you dance

The cake is both of your favorite colors, with one tier being your favorite cake type and the other tier being his, because he didnt want to try and split the decision of a cake

The wedding doesnt stay out too late, and the two of you are home before midnight

Cue him staring at his hand all day when you two wake up the next morning, his eyes moving from your wedding ring to his, still taking in the whole reality of this marriage thing

Referring to him as your husband takes some getting used to on his end, it’s always a little shock like “right...thats me” :’)

130 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Text

(miraculous asks)

Anonymous said:

Oh My Gosh!!!! I was just thinking about Party Crasher and man I hate how they had Ladybug get captured for the men to save! It's a continuous thing you see in media: strong heroic woman gets put in peril so that the men can shine. I didn't even realize it until you said it! I get that it was probably meant to be a "role reversal" of Chat always getting kidnapped or brainwashed for Ladybug to save, but the fact that this is the "guys' episode" it read like "well damn, we can't have the guys be strong if a girl is in the way; let's have the girl get captured so the boys can prove their worth by rescuing her!".

At least in Sandboy, Ladybug was still competent and came up with the plans, but this?! It makes me sick, and it's all too easy to fall into these traps; even Kim Possible did it! In my magical girl story, the heroine does get put in a magical coma and require someone to bail her out, but it's her female friends AND her boyfriend who save her, so it's not just a girl being weakened so a boy can be powerful, especially since said boy actually does a minority of the work required to save her; the focus is on the female characters so it's her girl friends who do most of it. I still ended up scrapping that side plot anyway, and do you know why? Because regardless of who saved her, I still didn't want my female protagonist to be put in distress at all due to the unfortunate implications! Needing help in a fight? Sure. But outright being captured or kidnapped? Nah fam.

I was honestly thinking about that when the first episode came out. Like, they could’ve just had Marinette NOT SHOW UP in time so the guys take care of things, which at least gives more of a message that Paris wouldn’t go to hell just because Ladybug is a little late or something.

And yeah, the “boys squad episode so gotta toss the girl out” is... sigh.

Anonymous said:

I think the writers were trying to show Chat angsting to show his regret instead of an actual apology. Still doesn't explain why Aeon didn't bring up her death afterwards. Did Olympia delete that from her memory banks?

I guess? :|

I don’t know why Chat can’t just apologize without fishing or trying to earn sympathy. Like JUST SAY YOU’RE SORRY, DAMMIT.

Anonymous said:

If you haven't read Maribat, then you won't regret it. I am not in the DC universe but I started reading it and WOW. Literally every single time Marinette is a badass queen and gets her complete revenge and is actually happy! Even if you absolutely love Lukanette (which I have nothing against) you should totally try it.

Appreciate the comment, but I find it hard to ship other Marinette ships outside of Lukanette. Ivanette is a very loose exception and it’s not like I ship it hard or anything.

Anonymous said:

Despite not being a Lukanette shipper I love you. Why? Because you amazing, so right in literally everything and I love you <33

gkdfjgfdngjkfdg thank you

bat-anon said:

The NY Special made it so that Max is literally the only Black/Brown kid that doesn’t exist to make Love Square happen and that just makes me hate it even more.

I wish you didn’t make me have this realization because I hate it.

At least Delmar existed in the New York special???? I guess???? I dunno, I’m trying here, I don’t recall him doing anything love square centric.

Anonymous said:

I honestly don't mind Alix's outfit as Bunnix! I feel like it fits her, plus she's an adult so its not much of a problem, not saying it can't be improved however. I DO have issues with the designs for the underage girls outfits however....those are very sus

Yeah, the problem I take with Bunnyx’s is that it’s a bodysuit. If there was just more definition, like having actual boots, I wouldn’t complain as much.

Anonymous said:

I actually just really like the idea of the new bee being a genuinely nice person who becomes friends with Marinette. Not exactly close friends (since I like the idea of friendly working relationships without actual personal stakes in them). I also enjoy the idea of the new bee having some small animosity for Chat Noir- just because their personalities aren't the greatest mix. I also think that it would make sense for the miraculous of subjection to be at odds with the miraculous of destruction

Full agreement but we know how much the writers are resistant to have characters go against Chat.

Anonymous said:

Not gonna lie the scene where the girl squad gets akumatized almost makes it seem like they got akumatized on purpose, similar to Manon in Puppeteer 2(although she was a little kid who was probably just imagining she could enact revenge). And why can't they have a uniformed design, like they're a team but wear different colors, similar to the Sailor Senshi(like, Alya's the leader and wears orange, Rose wears pink, Alix wears green, Juleka wears purple, and Mylene wears yellow). It's so boring.

Mood.

Not to mention that WE ARE SO TIRED OF THEM GETTING AKUMATIZED INTO THE SAME AKUMA.

AT LEAST PALETTE SWAP THEM.

Anonymous said:

Relating to the Didn't Need Burrows and Treatment of Marinette bingo cards, have you considered making one for whenever the show fails at girl power? It could say things like "sexualized frames of teenage girls" "boy tells girl what to do" "girls don't get to keep Miraculouses", and "girls are forced to apologize whenever a situation goes wrong". And in the center, it could say "Don't show this to your daughter!"! Lol! What do you think?

lol I feel like I have enough cards, otherwise I would.

Anonymous said:

I saw another post that talked about Miraculous New York, and they theorized that it was rewritten to focus more on Marinette and Adrien in order to get viewers invested in the Love Square again after more people started to lose faith in the ship. Do you think that's a possibility?

I think so. The whole special comes off as trying to reassure love square shippers because of how hard it goes for him. I cut out Marinette’s crushing and it cuts like 18% from the episode, meaning it’s even worse than Season 3 (15%).

Anonymous said:

Maybe the point of the [break-up episodes] is meant to discourage people from shipping Lukanette and Adrigami too?

Spoiler alert: didn’t work.

Anonymous said:

Are we not gonna talk about how in one ask, somebody legit said "(long dreamy sigh) Viperion"? Like same.

RIGHT????

Same.

Anonymous said:

Ml fandom: I hate how Ladybug keeps secrets from Chat Noir! He sacrifices himself for her all the time and she never appreciates him for it! He has EVERY right to get mad at her!!

ML Fandom when Chat Noir does the same thing in the special: ....Wow Ladybug was way to harsh on Chat Noir!! She doesn’t appreciate him at all!! Shes so mean to him!

i hate it

Anonymous said:

Idk if it's just me, but a majority of the fandom is split in two; it's never one or the other "MARINETTE SUCKS AND IS A HORRIBLE PERSON GUARDIAN MARY SUE WHO SEXUALLY HARRASSES" or "ADRIEN SUCKS HE WAS NEVER ON MARINETTES SIDE" but im personally on the latter, but not to that extreme. i hate videos bashing marinette and then never acknowledge adriens faults

Yeah, the fandom gets more divided as time goes on because of the writers trying to increase the drama/tension.

Anonymous said:

I am PERSONALLY offended they gave Luka the snake miraculous. Snakes have such a negative connotation. A lot of people insult Lila by calling her a SNAKE. And now those ML writers DARE insult the best character in ML?! HOW DARE THEY!?????

I adore Viperion but I agree that I first heard he was getting snake and was like, “BUT MY BOI???”

It gets awkward too because other animals like the pig have negative connotations, like how Daizzi basically means “idiot/stupid” and they’re giving it to the freaking blond character, really???

Anonymous said:

I think that Ivanette would be even better if Marinette was plus-sized character.

I see why you’d think that. I just disagree because then it turns the ship into “let’s pair the heavyset characters together because they heavyset.”

Anonymous asked:

On the topic of romance failures and general series salt, my main issue right now is how the series puts so much focus on romantic relationships while failing to consider other levels of relationship or what they affect.

On the L² front I can completely buy Marinette being in love with Adrien. Most of the time she genuinely wants him to be happy and is ready to take a step back for him, however much it hurts. But in terms of romantic love? It. Is. A. Crush! But if we step back from the formula, what is there left between them? Their civilian relationship is held together by a “comedy” of errors and without that there is surprisingly little left. Well, besides two “best friends” desperately trying to make it happen because somehow they lost their individual characters and instead of being friends became matchmakers?

I too like Luka and Marinette together. Their relationship is pretty nice to see and all. But sometimes it feels like it happens in a dimension of its own, like the writers want to make the endgame clear in that the “sideships” can be easily cut out of the big “how they got together”-recaps. I especially miss reactions from and interactions with Juleka. She is Luka’s sister, Marinette’s friend, and IIRC someone aware of if not even a bit player in the great shipping game. She is in a prime position to step up and bring progress on all fronts: She can talk with Luka. She can either give Marinette helpful pointers or go “All in or nothing”, i.e. trying to make Marinette get her Adrien-feelings in order as she does not want her brother to get less than Marinette’s full heart. Similarly, she can counteract “friendly acts” and stop humiliating situations from escalating, or she herself can escalate them in the “All or Nothing”-scenario. Yet she remains basically a background character who gets little attention from the camera and almost no “non-focus identity”

As for Kagami, I may be too biased. *Any* positive Kagami/Marinette relationship is to me what Lukanette is to you. So naturally I have lots of opinions when it comes to her role ;) But can I just say that Adrien/Kagami is the weirdest ship for me? They have a few cute scenes and I think if they’d spend a lot more time together, they’d do each other good but I don’t know how they work. “No Hesitation” Kagami would lob Adrien’s head straight off with all his…everything. If we are meant to take Adrien’s love for LB seriously (and I guess we have to because how in the name of sanity is any form of the stated endgame gonna work otherwise???), how does Kagami fit into that picture as a girl who can hardly express emotions while Adrien is the definition of a guy who can not stop flirting or goes for all kinds of romantic gestures? Sometimes it feels more like a “social fit” and “Mommy/Daddy approves” kind of deal which is quite the shame! Normally I like these kind of relationships in fictions but they need a solid underlining or good development. One they haven’t and one the series has not been giving to anyone so far.

Yeah, the whole thing with the love square versus side ships ends up feeling extremely forced. Keeping Luka away and forcing Adrien into Lukanette episode are the biggest giveaways, basically a big fat sign that says, “We know Marinette would forget that Adrien exists if she hung around Luka for more than five minutes.”

AND YEAH, KAGAMI WOULDN’T PUT UP WITH ADRIEN’S GARBAGE. I liked Adrimi but it’s definitely more flawed than Lukanette.

Anonymous said:

Watched your opinion on the New York special and I agree with you. It was mediocre at best. It could have been something nice, like if they added Kagami and Luka, for example, so that we can get a bit of development from the new couples on season 4, so that it doesn’t feel rushed when they start dating on season 4. It could also be a good opportunity to see the other temporary heroes one last time, since Marinette technically has the miracle box.

They could have had an epic fight with the American Superheroes, maybe even giving the bee miraculous temporally to Aeon or Jess so that we didn’t need to see their awful and uncreative superheroes designs. It would have been nice if they made something more useful other than being characters that believe that Adrien and Marinette are “Meant to be”, like, we already got a ton of these already, couldn’t we get someone who didn’t feel something about this ship? It has so much wasted potential that I don’t even know how to start. Do you agree with anything I said?

I agree, yes. They could’ve easily thrown Luka/Kagami into the mix (or had Marinette/Adrien stay behind while flipping perspectives or something; flawed but they could make it work).

Anonymous said:

I'm rereading ladybugout and wow... the moment of silence after "chat deserves that kiss" gets me every time. Everyone stopping and just staring because wow he really just said that

Me whenever Chat Noir opens his mouth in the show.

Anonymous said:

I saw the Backwarder post you just talked about and yes, it is so totally ridiculous. They forgot another thing, though. Miraculous isn't just about comedy, action, and romance, it's about embarrassing Marinette. And the fact that almost everyone in the comments was acting like the medicine scene at the end was funny was just stupid and saddening to hear or read about, because it shows how people have been conditioned to hate and rally against Marinette without even realizing it. Granted, there was one lady who said it reminded her of her husband, so I guess that's okay(but all it means is that Adrien will be Marinette's--aka "his lady's"--husband like eeerrrgh!). And there was one person who said they liked that Juleka's advice because "If you're friend isn't willing to commit crimes for your happiness, is she even your friend?". But everyone else liked the ending. And I don't get the person who said we got "Subtle progression with Adrien and Marinette". We're right where we started.

Weeeeell, I understand the “comedy, action, romance” comment because all of those basically boil down to embarrassing Marinette or invalidating her. Comedy and romance goes without saying while action involves her dealing with Chat “Nice Guy” Noir.

Anonymous said:

Is it just me, or does Snow White's "Red Shoes" form look a lot like Marinette. I know, I know, Marinette is Chinese and Red Shoes is Korean, but they still look strikingly similar. They're bodies are really similar, too, but that might just be because animation tends to use eerily similar body types for its female characters on a whole. It's sad and it makes me think of how cute Marinette would be if she was fat. I also think Snow White was cuter than Red Shoes but that's kind of the point.

I think it’s the body type thing but that’s just a guess since I didn’t immediately make the connection.

I agree that Snow White is cuter.

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one who's never liked "destined to fail" characters? Basically this is when characters aren't allowed to be good at/succeed at something or else the whole universe will somehow fall apart. Think of how in The Amazing World of Gumball, if Richard gets a job, the world will be in complete and utter chaos. So he's better off as a lazy, bumbling dad. In Phineas and Ferb, Candace is always trying to rat out her younger brothers but if she gives up or succeeds something bad will happen.

TV Tropes put it the best: "Not only is she not allowed to succeed, but she's also not allowed to stop trying!"(conveniently under the Cosmic Plaything trope). I just don't like it because it shows that the writers just want to lead them on with the promise of success then snatch it away at the last minute. And now we're back at Miraculous Ladybug, where Marinette is humiliated every time she doesn't sign a gift that's for Adrien, and yet when she does, everyone in Paris DIES. Except for...HIM.

you: *mentions Candace*

me: [a million awful flashbacks]

Also, yeah, it’s so hard to watch, especially in “Chat Blanc” because it’s like, “Oh, you want to give a gift to a boy and you dArEd to use your powers for it? Congrats, but everyone else is DEAD and you can hang out with him as much as you want! You’re welcome!”

Anonymous said:

I think it’d become a “faintest idea blackout card”rather than a bingo.

(referring to my “Faintest Idea” card)

We’re getting there.

darkmoonravewolf said:

I hate that everything on that list could happen and very likely will

(referring to “Didn’t Need Burrow”)

Yeah, and it makes me sad :’)

Anonymous said:

That’s be real here. Miraculous ladybug is not a show about Marinette; Miraculous Ladybug is a show about Adrien. Adrien is the real main character.

Notice that when they focused on Adrien in “Lies,” they only cut back to Marinette (IN A SCENE THAT CAN’T EXIST) to have her fawn over him.

Anonymous said:

Is it just me or are Lady Noire's eyes huge? Maybe it's just the green but they seem way bigger than Marinette's

I’m not sure, but considering Rena’s facial structure being different from Alya’s, it wouldn’t surprise me.

asexual-individual said:

With what you've said about Adrien lacking a reason to exist outside of development for Marinette and Gabriel, I have to wonder how different the show would be if Chat Noir's identity was also kept from the audience. Adrien would still be there as himself, but he only gets as much focus as Alya, and Chat Noir's identity is treated as a mystery (a Tuxedo Mask type mystery, but a mystery all the same).

I see what you mean but it might cause Adrien+Chat’s screentime to feel excessive once the reveal happens, because suddenly their screentime gets combined and it’s like, “oh wow so the combined screentime is his then.”

Anonymous said:

I know that the kwami's really only exist so we can hear our protagonists' thoughts outloud (like what the Coraline movie did with adding Wybie to the story). But honestly, what's the point in having magical gods in the jewelry if you're not going to do anything with them?

Marketing with “cute” side characters.

guisendisguise said:

It's funny, originally, I had shipped Marichat in the sense that Chat and Mari start hanging out and both fall in love with the other's supposedly less perfect, more real selves. Then Luka was introduced and I ended up putting both lukanette and marichat at the same level. Then S3 hit and killed any love I had for Marichat. The writers themselves killed the Love Square for me. At this point, it's very clear they are living in a delusion where the Love Square could ever work narratively without Deus ex Machina or Deus Lo Vult (God wills it). Basically, they've gone past scraping the bottom of the writing skills barrel and are now shoulder deep in the hole they dug thru the bottom of said barrel. I'd like to point out that the bottom of the barrel is writing poop and now they're digging thru the useless plastic landfill the barrel was sitting on top of

Uggggh, yeah. Any appreciation I could’ve had for Marichat died in “Weredad.” I already didn’t like Adrien/Chat and then “Weredad” just showed his complete lack of... well, ANYTHING.

cosmostellar said:

Honestly feels like MLBs writers are going based off the "JUST IMAGINE EVERY POC CHARACTER YOU'RE WRITING AS WHITE" instead of, yknow, fleshing them out while developing them also in the context of their cultures and giving them these little things that the audiences who belong to the same minority can identify with. I don't mean "have Marinette walk in qipao 24/7" bcs thats just... bad on its own but man, /some/ casual acknowledgments of her culture would be nice.

Reading the sentence “JUST IMAGINE EVERY POC CHARACTER YOU'RE WRITING AS WHITE” physically hurts me.

Anonymous said:

Ok, I've always thought that Chloe was robbed of redemption (they held it in front of us, but then jerked it away while Astruc says, "She's irredeemable! We thought she was redeemable, but she wasn't :)!" What are your thoughts! Also, I just recently found your blog and I really like it :)

Thank you!

But I have no sympathy for bully characters, so I didn’t want Chloe redeemed. Maybe I’m still bitter about my own bullying experience, but I just wasn’t here for Marinette being forced to forgive Chloe, which is basically what they did until they backpedaled.

The time spent on her was wasted though and that I can agree on.

Anonymous said:

Me: Writes a 1k rant about how the tweet makes no sense as the "mistake" is about motivation and not the critical plot. Also me: Remembers that in MLB the plot always comes back to the romance. Finally me: Wonders why he got involved with the series post-S3 when all the red flags were already everywhere.

Mistakes were made.

Anonymous said:

I'm semi-catching up on miraculous, and- is it my impression, or does Kagami rebel against her mother more in few episodes she's in (even though her mother's influences on her seem to be stronger in general), than Adrien in the entire show? I /know/ that I don't want to see Adrien free himself from his father w/ the desperation I want to see Kagami free herself from her mother and realize that the standards she's held up to are unhealthy and too strong.

Yeah, I’m way more invested in Kagami than Adrien.

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one confused about whether the staff stopped caring and half-asses the series or cares too much and over-produces the hell out of it?

Nah. It really feels like they secretly hate the love square so they have to keep forcing it.

Anonymous said:

ngl I haven't watched any new episodes since Chameleon and I've been getting all that Miraculous News via tumblr to avoid that Marinette Brand Second Hand Embarrassment™

Understandable.

Anonymous said:

If they aired the 6th one first WHAT WHAT HAPPENED TO LEAD UP TO THIS???? WE ARE ON SEASON FOUR WITH TWO SPEICALS, GETTING A THIRD, AND ANY DEVELOPMENT WE HAD HAS GONE BACKWARDS, SUCKED, OR STATUS QUO YO-ED AWAY!!!!! HOW THE HECK DO WE GET ADRIENETTE FROM FOUR SEASONS OF NOTHING?????? I USED TO FANGIRL AT THIS NOW I AM TERRIFIED.

Answer: We don’t get Adrienette. We get forced love square and rushed/fake “development” of it while being constantly confused as episodes air out of order.

Anonymous said:

im sorry But adrienette has been suck in this limbo of one sidedness for 3 seasons. neither of them have become closer, neither of them have confided in one another, but somehow people still ship it? at least luka was able to make a move on marinette lol adrien still repeats the same boring “shes just a friend” line. adrienette is a really boring ship.

lol don’t apologize, you’re absolutely right.

nahte123456 said:

Very minor bit of salt to throw to the pile, but can this show just decide on how strong Miraculous holders are? Yes it's a cartoon and not the focus but in the Furious Fu episode we literally get Ladybug dodging lighting and then Su who seems mostly human and is at least slower then Fu was outspeeding her. It's distracting trying to figure out what is and isn't a serious threat in this show.

The deciding factor in the strength of the miraculous holders is “whatever works for the plot.”

Anonymous said:

At this point the only thing I'm excited for concerning Miraculous Ladybug is when it gets a reboot in like, a decade with actually competent writers

Best case scenario is that Zag goes bankrupt and Disney/Netflix picks up the series and gives it to competent people.

Problem is that the love square has been ruined so badly for me that even a “good” version of it wouldn’t be something I’d be into, but still.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the problem with having all of Marinette's mistakes result in huge disasters (ex. Feast), is that is gives off the impression that teenagers aren't allowed to make mistakes. This show clearly doesn't like giving second chances to the protagonist, so why would life give one to you? Am I right, kids?

Exactly.

Marinette makes mistakes and suddenly the world is ending.

Anonymous said:

If your gonna watch the show, at least pirate the episodes so the writers dont get your support

Don’t worry, I have no interest in financially supporting the show.

Anonymous said:

ml in a nutshell: wasted potential, then giving themselves more potential, only to turn the rest of it into a dumpster fire

Yup, that’s it.

Anonymous said:

u know, when My Little Pony, Sofia The First, and fanfiction carries out character development, respect, romance, and the main plot better than the original show, especially when the shows mentioned above are aimed more at little girls and the original show is aimed at slightly older audiences... somethings wrong

*sigh*

And then it’s like--people will excuse the show because “it’s a kids’ show” and then I’m just “okay then, why are there actually good kids’ show?”

If shows get a pass for being for children then all childrens’ shows should just not try and be garbage since the standard is so low.

Anonymous said:

ive seen some cool fic ideas/concepts/reviews that made me think: ml could use so much more looking into how a character thinks in some situations. one fic i read had alya in chameleon (i know its been forever since the ep came out but hey) not question lila cus she thought: "hey, lb wouldnt befriend a bad person" w and added a plot line of lila making her think lb was cobsidering replacing rena rougue. like, just a few lines to make them seem better pls?

YES. Like, show us characters’ perspectives and why they’re rolling with the facts that they’re rolling with, otherwise they just end up looking like jerks.

We sort of got it in “Ikari Gozen” with Kagami but of course it was just to make Marinette look bad.

Anonymous said:

You know I’m honestly considering making reviews of this show and if I do I could create hour long rants about the show just from that mans twitter.

Yeaaaaaah, once you had in the Twitter stuff, it just becomes, “okay so this is going to add another hour or two then.”

Anonymous said:

Okay one thing that bothers me is how plain marinette's suits are despite being a DESIGNER. Her multimouse suit it just blocks of color and her ladynoir suit is just grey with green lines. I think the lines are supposed to represent actually clothes. Like the limes on the calves are supposed to make it look like boots but why not actually GIVE her boots. (Right, because she has to have a skintight suit unlike the boys who get some layers.)

THE SHEER DISRESPECT OF HAVING THE FASHION DESIGNER WEAR SUCH A PLAIN SUIT.

It also goes to show who really designs here, like oh, interesting, the girls get skin-tight simplistic bodysuits and the boys gets all the cool stuff--

Anonymous said:

I heard some people in my class saying they watched Miraculous Ladybug for the first time, and they were saying how good it was, and I was like: 'Oh you poor fools. You have NO idea what it's truly like.'

You know what they say: ignorance is bliss.

bat-anon said:

Isn’t it INTERESTING how in Frozer, Luka understands that Marinette is torn between her crushes and continues to support her even though he knows she probably won’t chose him, and in the exact same episode Chat Noir refuses to help save the city because Ladybug told him AGAIN that she wasn’t romantically interested in him? HMMM 🤔😑

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I’M REMINDED OF “FELIX” WHERE IT’S LIKE--THEY WERE CLEARLY TRYING TO SHOW HOW MUCH “BETTER” CHAT NOIR IS THAN FELIX, BUT LUKA WAS THE RESPECTFUL ONE.

Anonymous said:

You know what I want to see? An evil kwami, like they just want to commit crimes. No moral high grounds, just chaotic evil.

That’d be amazing just because I wouldn’t be able to take them seriously.

Anonymous said:

Watching S1 and S3 episodes back to back, it feels like reading salt fics at times, especially in regards to the L². Like, Marinette was happy about weird plans, she both needed and wanted the final push, and most of the time there was at least something coming out of it. Nowadays it just makes her sad, Alya and the girls act *against* her, and we get shipping for shipping's sake.

That’s a good point. The shift from Seasons 1 to 2 to 3 is rather noticeable.

Anonymous said:

I hate how Adrien's busy schedule seems to only matter when it's used to make Marinette feel bad, but the second Marinette has a bit more to do, it somehow has a negative effect on not only her, but also everyone/everything she cares about, like, what's up with that??

I’m reminded of “Lies” here and I hate it. :|

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the way the show treats teenage girls is horse ass. The show treats the teenage girls of this show as if they're stupid, naive, emotional, clumsy, and need a boy to tell them what opinions to have. Marinette is always treated like the show's punching bag and blamed for everything that goes wrong because she's "emotional" or "obsessed with Adrien", Chloe could've been redeemed but the writers would rather keep her a brain-dead Alpha Bitch Valley Girl(even though Gabriel and Felix, the latter of whom is a teenage boy introduced in one episode, get to be treated as redeemable, despite the things they do being far, far worse), and Lila is a conniving, self-absorbed fox.

And even though Kagami seems better, she's still roped into the "girls catfight over an oblivious guy" cliche and so far, all of her akumatizations have been because of Adrien. Whenever Marinette tries to move on from Adrien the other characters tell her what's good for her and steer her in the "right" direction because she apparently can't think for herself, and the writers LOVE to use the girl squad to tell us who Marinette should be with, because they apparently know better than she does.

Plus the show loves to treat all the girls as the same, making them all either fight over Adrien or be obsessed with shipping, as if teenage girls are all one assimilating, homogenized group(also when they treat Marinette as if she's "just as bad as Chloe", rinse and repeat for the other ladies.). Honestly, the show feels like it was written by those types of people who think "teenage girls are the worst" so they make them all mood-swingy, obsessive, showoffs, emotional, and downright clingy.

Plus the way Thomas Astruc talks about the female characters on Twitter is even worse, and only serves to make this more evident: he claims Marinette "has poor control over her emotions"(all the while calling Adrien "perfect"), that Chloe was racist in Kung Food "because she's stupid"(so rather than having that scene serve as a lesson on respecting other's cultures, he just did it to pick on Chloe and make her look "stupid"), that she's incapable of being redeemed, that Lila's unlikable but Gabriel and Felix aren't(even though he claimed Felix was a terrible character and a "cliche", that's not what the show says my guy), and other such nonsense.

Other Twitter users have also called out Miraculous Ladybug and its stereotypical treatment of teenage girls. The only shows I've ever seen do this worse are those pretentious "darker" Magical Girl "deconstructions" aimed at grown men such as Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna, as well as most shonen/seinen shows such as Naruto and Death Note, which says a lot. Honestly, whenever I feel like watching a show with empowering and respectful depictions of teenage girls that treats them as bright and intelligent and actually unique from one another, I just watch Equestria Girls, Liv and Maddie, LoliRock, ANT Farm, Moesha, PreCure, or Sailor Moon. Because the way the show acts towards them is deplorable, absolutely deplorable.

Yes to all of the above. Almost all of the girls are involved in love affairs in some way, the two teenage girls are irredeemable while Felix got a sympathetic backstory right away (Chloe took forever to get hers which is a failure), and Marinette is flawed because she’s “too emotional” (a misogynistic stereotype).

Anonymous said:

Hi, I'm the anon who got upset at the lady who made the "Miraculous Ladybug is a Mess" rant, and yes, thank you zodiacspirit17 for liking and agreeing with my rant! I'm glad someone else saw that video! And ugh, Marinette learning to love Chat Noir? Really? I don't remember that line but I also don't want to go back and revisit it to make sure so I'll take your word for it. Ew. That was actually one of the things I hated about the Glaciator scene. Chat was supposedly comforting Marinette by taking her to the rooftop where he planned Ladybug's date, and yet only Marinette finds out about Chat's crush on Ladybug and comforts him on that(while rethinking her feelings), while all Chat knows is that Marinette's heart was also broken. He never asks who it is, or tries to help her get over her crush even if he doesn't know it's coincidentally him.

I know it's because of the "love square" but it's unfair that only Chat's love problems are directly addressed. Come to think of it, the reason Chat took Marinette to the rooftop...I know he was doing it in-universe to help her instead of intruding on her personal feelings(which might have also been why he didn't ask her who her crush was, he was probably thinking along the lines of "we don't have to talk about it right now, we can just have fun!"), but meta-wise, since we know she's Ladybug, the writers were probably trying to tell her "See? This is what you could've been doing, but you missed it. Shame on you!" That's a huge issue I have with the show: characters will do things in-universe to help Marinette, but the show has a different motive in mind. Compare to how Tikki gave actual advice to Marinette in Puppeteer 2, but the writers intended that for the statue scene so they could embarrass her in front of Adrien and the thousands of eyes watching the show(except we're not laughing.). Even if characters do support her, the writer is using them as props for her ritualized humiliation. And yet Luka is the problem somehow.

If Marinette needs to learn how to love Chat Noir, then it should at least be balanced out by Adrien learning to Marinette. I'm sick of this double standard that "girls need to learn to accept boys who like them but guys can do what they want". Another thing she said was that "Marinette needs to learn to define herself outside of who she's crushing on." NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. You see, unlike Adrien, Marinette HAS a life outside of who she's crushing on: she has school, she has Kitty Section, she has her "girl squad", she has her parents, she has her outside family, she babysits Alya's and Nino's siblings, and she has OH YEAH HER FASHION DESIGNING! I didn't even count being a superhero since Adrien does that, too. She has so many things to do outside of Adrien, and yet the fact that she makes gifts for Adrien or dreams about Adrien or wants to have kids with Adrien somehow makes her nothing but an "Adrien fangirl"?

First of all, she's the bloody protagonist?! That's such a "Real Women Don't Wear Dresses" argument, that she can't have her own life AND be in love at the same time! And somehow her crushing on Luka also means her life revolves around him, too! But Adrien's life doesn't revolve around Ladybug even though he doesn't really have anything going for him in his ordinary life? Outside of being rich, hot, white, and male, that is? What are his interests and hobbies, besides what Gabriel lets him do to pass the time? He doesn't even like modeling! And the Agreste plot is more about Gabriel, Emilie, and Nathalie than it is about him.

And what about his friendship with Nino? He didn't even care that Nino was getting strung along by Lila with the others! What about his friendship with Chloe that also waxes and wanes? Granted, Chloe's not a GOOD person, which that lady acknowledged, but she at least tried to change and has more development than him, the writers just won't let her change. I hate when people come for Marinette for doing literally anything when the show won't let her have agency and progress. It's so unfair of her and I wish they could see that. These double standards are driving me insane and they're sexist(maybe even a little bit racist, too), and it hurts even more when a woman's doing those things.

(I had to cut off some of this ask because I didn’t get all of it, so I cut it off at the point where it still seemed like a full ask.)

I FEEL THE “GLACIATOR” THING SO BAD. It hurts even worse when you realize that “Frozer” has to take place after “Glaciator,” so Chat Noir heard that Marinette has love problems and then ignored it to ask her for advice about his own love problems later on. The total lack of insensitivity???

Also, the idea that Marinette’s life would revolve around her crush on Luka is stupid. It’s the exact opposite, in fact.

Meanwhile, Adrien has so little going for him and the “interesting” parts of him involve who he’s connected to or what his father has forced him into.

61 notes · View notes

whatifxwereyou · 3 years ago

Text

Firestorm Part 12: Chongqing

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

And now for an interlude where you go shopping with Chen and Lao. It goes just about exactly as you expect until Lao becomes serious Lao. You needed this.

A/N: longer chapter but had a blast writing it! enjoy, friendos.

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Chongqing was overwhelmingly loud and bustling. Your trio couldn’t have stood out more amongst the crowds of the busy shopping district. Kung Lao with his hat and tunic, Chen in her simple robes, you dressed like a vampire. Black had become your new favorite wardrobe color. The ink didn’t stain it quite as badly.

The perpetual lump in your throat was going to drive you completely mad. You’d never felt this kind of anxiety before. In fact, you had been used to being the butt of every joke in your hometown. Wherever you went people would stare. But you’d never actually put any of them in danger before. This was different.

It felt like you were wrapped tight in explosives and had to pretend you were normal while walking through a busy street. No one noticed you was explosive. Kung Lao seemed pleased to be out and about with you in the world. Chen stood next to him, scowling at Kung Lao for whatever reason. You had enough to deal with without trying to understand what Chen was mad about. Chen grabbed your wrist and checked your pulse. You sighed heavily and looked away. She’d done that twice since you’d left.

“It’s not going to get any slower.” You whispered and Chen looked to you disapprovingly, then wrote something down in her little book. “We really don’t have to do this.” This was about the seventieth time you’d said that this morning. Kung Lao had insisted you run your errand. “It’s a stupid little errand and it seems silly.”

“We’re already here, Y/N. Don’t stress so much.”

“Yeah, but we’re going to Andong soon and I can get what I need there. Really. There’s way too many people here.” The dangerous scenarios that repeated in your head were wild. Chen then stepped back and Kung Lao smiled brightly at you. He was confident as ever for a man who you’d maimed just the other day.

“It’s just a few hours, Y/N. Just the two of us.” He rested his hand gently on your shoulder. Chen cleared her throat behind you and Kung Lao’s smile fell. “And her I guess.”

“As rude as ever, Kung Lao.”

“That’s Master Kung Lao and if I didn’t have to bring someone who could handle Y/N’s health issues if they creep up then I wouldn’t have.”

“Well, you had to. Sorry to break up your romantic day out, Master Kung Lao.” Chen bowed but the sneer on her face was priceless.

“Romantic? No, no, no.” You thought this couldn’t be further from romantic. A trip to the biggest city in China to get birth control was more like a bad dream. At least right now. Maybe it was a little funny but only if everyone came out of it unscathed.

“Where to first?” Kung Lao looped his arm in yours and guided you down the road slowly. With a heavy sigh you gestured down the street.

“Anywhere. Even a drugstore would do.”

“What could you possibly need from a drugstore that we don’t have at the Temple?” Chen had volumes to say on the matter but was being on her best behavior.

“I’m sure Y/N has her reasons.” Kung Lao defended you and then leaned closer to whisper. “…but what do you need?”

“It is no one’s business.”

“Wow, defensive.” Kung Lao grinned. Chen pointed at him and nodded to agree.

“Lady stuff. Okay?” An easy answer to make Kung Lao stop asking you questions.

“Oh.” Both Chen and Kung Lao seemed disappointed that it wasn’t something more exciting.

“It was bound to come up eventually.” Chen narrowed her eyes suspiciously. You were grateful that Chen didn’t seem nearly as bold in front of Kung Lao.

“This is suddenly a much less exciting trip.”

“What did you think I needed to buy, Lao?”

“Clothes? Lady… things?” He looked you over from head to toe and your jaw dropped. You stopped your walk and pulled your arm away from his, resting your hands on your hips. Chen was trying very hard not to laugh, face turned away but beat red with effort.

“Are you implying that you thought I had invited you to come shopping for lingerie with me?” You gestured to yourself. Chen was now failing at her task of not laughing. She was open mouth wheezing, bent over with one hand on her knee.

“I feel like that’s something I would excel at.”

“I think that you would be the exact opposite of helpful.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous, Y/N.” Kung Lao grinned, delighted that he’d managed to turn your face red. Chen was practically crying tears of happiness.

“And just what would you do if I took you into a lingerie store, hmm? I’m calling your bluff.” You tapped your foot expectantly and Kung Lao stiffened up. If he wanted to tease you then you would tease him right back, Chen be damned. He stuttered, ran his tongue over his teeth, but then grinned and pointed a finger at you with no words to back it up. “That’s what I thought.”

“If that’s a challenge Y/N, then you’re on.”

“Are you sure? Tall man, already standing out like a sore thumb with that hat, towering above a store full of women shopping for lacy underthings? Really sure you want to do that?”

“I uh…”

“Because it will be awkward. Not the fun, sexy thing that you think it’s going to be.” You were winning and rather happy about it.

“I can’t breathe, you two have to stop.” Chen was coughing with laughter. You patted her on the back.

“At least someone thinks we’re funny.”

“Not for the reasons you’re thinking.” You muttered and then gave Chen another smack on the back and then cleared your throat. Chen wiped her eyes. “I do need clothes but it’s not urgent. And I’m not underwear shopping with you, Kung Lao. No offense.”

“We’re here so you should get what you need while we are. I’ll just be the creep standing outside the store.” Kung Lao slipped his arm around yours again and then led you further down the street, eyeing the shops. You had to dart between people as you walked and being in this big of a crowd made you visibly uncomfortable.

“We should get this over with quickly.” You didn’t mean to sound like you didn’t want to spend time with him. You were uncomfortable but only partially because you were out with Kung Lao and Chen.

“Come on, Y/N. Relax a little.”

“It’s dangerous to be around this many people.” There was no point in dancing around the truth. They didn’t seem to take you seriously. How many times had you wounded Kung Lao and Liu Kang? These were men that you cared about deeply. Unusually tough men with magic powers. Imagine what kind of damage you would do to Chen if you lost it. And the ten people who had just walked past you! You shivered at the thought. Chen patted your shoulder comfortingly then drifted behind you and Kung Lao as if to try and alleviate your worry.

“Try not to think about it.”

“Really? I… let’s just get it over with.” You laughed in disbelief. You wouldn’t ruin their mood just because you were nervous of what could be. Kung Lao led you into the massive store on the corner. It was a towering building. Just inside there was a sign along the wall listing each level and what was sold on them. This floor was convenience. The floors above were separated like a department store.

You pulled your arm free of Kung Lao’s and meandered through the aisles. There was a pharmacy at the far end. Yes, your target. You stopped in the middle of the aisle and frowned. You didn’t have a prescription. Damnit. What had you been thinking? None of this was working out the way you’d wanted it to. It was comically bad! You laughed at yourself and Kung Lao furrowed his brow next to you.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah. It just struck me how weird it is to be shopping with you like life is normal.”

“I do it all the time.”

“Does it ever stop being weird?” You had been lying and Kung Lao hadn’t noticed. Score one for you.

“People stared and pointed at you all the time when we were kids. I can’t imagine that changed much after I left. You can’t possibly feel weird about it now.”

“Well, there’s a man standing next to me with a big weapon-y hat and… we stand out in a different way. Plus I’m dangerous.” You nudged him. Kung Lao grinned.

“I’m happy to stand out next to you.”

“You’re so corny.” You pointed to the next aisle. “Lady things. My mission. You coming?” You dared him.

“Ugh, no. I’m going to go look at literally anything else. Ruining all my fun…” Kung Lao teased, patting your shoulder before walking in the opposite direction. Good. Chen was nowhere to be found. She’d probably been distracted by something or another. Good. She’d needed to get out too. With a sigh of relief, you made your way to the pharmacy counter instead of the next aisle. The woman behind it looked so tired that you thought maybe she was a prisoner there.

“Picking up?”

“Actually… and I know this is going to come across at stupid but… I’m from out of town and I’ve forgotten my birth control.” You lied. You sounded like you were lying. It was so terrible. You were the worst! You’d used all your lying skills up for the day. Thankfully, the pharmacist seemed so tired that she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I know that usually I can’t get it without a prescription but I was hoping there was something I could pay for outright over the counter, maybe?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. The only thing I have over the counter is for the morning after.” She was surprisingly sympathetic for someone who was most definitely not paid enough. “I can call your doctor’s office and see if they’ll fax over a prescription if you like.” That was helpful except that you were supposed to be dead so that didn’t work out.

“No, no. I don’t have a primary care doctor here and…”

“Oh, I can call just about anywhere.”

“That’s nice, um… no, it’s okay. Thank you though. I’ll take some of the morning after stuff if you have it.” You sighed heavily. It was better than nothing. You tried to figure out a way to sneak into a doctor that day but it didn’t seem possible without completely abandoning Chen and Kung Lao. Maybe you would be able to do it later with Liu. Ugh, you didn’t want to wait that long. Your face flushed just thinking about it. You couldn’t wait to share this story with Liu later. It was hilarious. You paid for the medication which you asked to be double bagged. When you turned around, you found Chen standing behind you, hands on her hips, a smile on her face.

“I knew it.”

“You knew what?” You tried to play it cool but your face had immediately turned red and betrayed you. Chen tapped the bag and the burning in your cheeks intensified. “What? My hormones are being whacky.”

“Bull. You’re a terrible liar. I knew something was up. You are trying to be prepared before sleeping with one of those boys. Or both if you’re smart. Trying not to get pregnant, right?” Chen pointed an accusatory finger at you but her eyes were sparkling with joy. The woman behind the counter was now watching you with delight.

“Shush! Quiet!” You grabbed Chen’s arm and pulled her further from the pharmacy counter. “Please.”

“If you don’t tell me I’ll get louder. Kung Lao isn’t that far away, you know.”

“Fucking fine, you are mean, Kung Lao was right.”

“I love when you curse.”

“You are the worst…”

“Yeah, I know, the worst monk.” Chen brushed off the insult. “Tell me! It’s been ages since I’ve had anything juicy.”

“Fine. Yeah, I wanted to try and get some birth control. But I’m a moron for… numerous reasons. I forgot that I needed a prescription. So this whole embarrassing and stressful trip was next to pointless.”

“You should have told me, Y/N. I work in the infirmary. You’re not the only girl in the temple who needs birth control. Some of the hormones in there are crazy. I’ll get you some when we get back.”

“…well, now I feel bad. That was nice.”

“If you didn’t buy birth control then what did you buy?” Chen narrowed her eyes suspiciously then in a flash snatched the bag from your hands before it could be pulled to safety. She stepped back toward the pharmacy counter out of your reach and then looked into the bag. “Y/N! You dirty girl!” She grinned. You yanked the bag back from her. “You slept with one of them and didn’t tell me?” Your face was so red you thought you might explode. There were no words, just embarrassment. You weren’t the one who was a gossip, this should not have been surprising. “By the way? You should buy some tampons to cover your tracks. I keep those in the temple too, by the way. You really should have just saved yourself the trouble and just talked to me.” You felt more and more like a moron. You deserved this. Your shaming had been earned. “Did you have unprotected sex with one of them? Here I was thinking that you were never gonna spread your legs and…”

“Wow, wow… okay shush… this is a rollercoaster and I need off.”

“You didn’t have to make this trip. All you had to do was talk to me.”

“Yeah, so you can have your weird vicarious fantasy.”

“Obviously.”

“And you’d help with the Plan B, huh?”

“Maybe. Did you sleep with Kung Lao? Bareback? Really? You want to breed with that?” Chen seemed to be considering if this were a viable option and you wanted to bash your head repeatedly into the wall until you were unconscious to escape this embarrassment. “I mean, I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing but you…”

“No! No I did not.” You were practically squealing.

“Oh.” Chen grinned from ear to ear and your face dropped. “So it was Liu Kang then.” Your face was so hot you were practically suffocating. It was not nearly as fun as the kind of suffocation being with Liu Kang had provided. The woman behind the counter was listening to you with rapt attention but pretended to go back to work when she realized she was caught.

“You have got to be quieter.” You walked away from Chen, down the aisle, grabbed a box of tampons then paid for it at the pharmacy counter. Then you shoved it deep in your bag. Chen was grinning so wide that you thought she looked deranged. Before you could say anything further on the matter Kung Lao joined you from the other end of the aisle.

“Oh, good. You look done. I was bored.” He looked you over and narrowed his eyes. “Your face is red.”

“Uh… hot in here, right?” You fanned yourself and Chen snorted with laughter. This had to have been Chen’s dream come true, short of walking in on you with one of them.

“…that woman is staring at me.” Kung Lao whispered, stepping closer to you, and nodding toward the pharmacist.

“It’s the hat, I’m sure. Didn’t notice.” Every word was a struggle to say without bursting into laughter. You then grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the pharmacy counter. He slowed you down, pulled his hand free, and then slipped his arm around your waist lazily.

“I was thinking that we could grab something to eat if you’re up for it. I’m hungry.” Thankfully Kung Lao hadn’t needed any answers. Chen joined you, walking on the other side of you. “There’s a pretty good sushi place around here if I remember correctly.”

“Do you think it’s responsible for me to sit in a restaurant?” You were in disbelief but at least your face was finally cooling down.

“You’re still allowed to live, Y/N.” Kung Lao’s grin finally fell.

“Yeah, live a little.” Chen added. You could practically see the devil horns sprouting on her head.

“You guys don’t… get it.” You pulled away from Kung Lao and stopped your walk, turning to face them.

“I really don’t.” Kung Lao pouted and then mouthed that he was hungry. For sushi.

“Look at yourself, Kung Lao.” You gestured to him. “You’re bruised to hell.”

“Bloodied too.” Kung Lao seemed proud of it.

“Wouldn’t know. He never comes to the infirmary unless he’s dragged there. Even then, he’s the worst.”

“I’m only the worst because you’re so mean.”

“Is that reason? Because if that were the reason then it would only be me dreading you visiting the infirmary.”

“I’m… going upstairs to buy some clothes. You can keep bickering and I’ll think about food.” You turned away and walked to the stairwell around the corner. You breathed a sigh of relief to be away from people and then fanned your still red face. Only seconds later, Chen and Kung Lao joined you. They were still bickering. The permanent look of disgust on Kung Lao’s face as they argued about his health was hilarious.

Let them argue. You walked up to the next floor and found it was women’s clothing. You searched the rack for some staples. Now that you thought about it, you really did want to buy some lingerie but you couldn’t dream of doing that with those two breathing down your neck. Instead, you focused on staples. You found a few things to sleep in, more pants, cute black shirts. Black was your new aesthetic, apparently. You couldn’t help but think that you were beginning to dress like the witch that everyone in your hometown had accused you of being. It was a little comical.

Kung Lao stood next to you and Chen disappeared in the stacks. You were trying not to laugh at how annoyed he looked. He shoved his hands into his pockets and then peered over your shoulder, purposely trying to catch your gaze and distract you.

“Yes?” You turned toward him.

“None of this is lingerie. Boring.”

“Wow, so funny.” You rolled your eyes but smiled. You gave him a hard time but it really was fun to be out and about with him. He made you laugh. This experience was stressful for too many reasons but he managed to make it a little less nerve racking.

“I’m sorry for being a dick about this.” Kung Lao rocked on the balls of his feet, avoiding your eyes. “I know that you’re afraid of hurting people. I’m just… used to deflecting everything with humor. Tried to ease the tension and made it worse. And your friend being here isn’t making it easier. I swear she has it out for me.”

“She does seem to.” You smiled sympathetically. Now that you thought about it, Chen had tried to tell you something a few days ago. It felt like a lifetime since then. Maybe her attitude had something to do with that.

“I was kind of hoping that we could find some alone time. I could sneak you into a movie.” That sweet smile was back and you had to avert your eyes. It was a cute idea but it also made your stomach drop.

“That’s probably not safe unless we’re the only ones in the theater.” The weight of your truth made your knees buckle. “Maybe after we figure this out.”

“I figured that’s what you’d say.” It was Kung Lao’s turn to look disappointed. “Maybe Liu is right to worry about you.” He slipped his arm around you again. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N.” Was it though? They really didn’t get it.

“I could explode with ink right now and you would be impaled.” You placed the clothing you’d picked up back on the shelf. Shopping didn’t seem so important anymore. Kung Lao cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “Those women walking behind us? Dead. The damage I’d do to the store and the employees would be irreparable. You’d be incapacitated if not dead. Who knows who else I’d hurt? I’d never forgive myself, Kung Lao. I don’t think anyone has really thought through the danger that I truly pose. Raiden seems to be the only one who gets it.” You didn’t like having this conversation with anyone, especially Kung Lao.

“Y/N… I…”

“Chen’s so busy teasing me about you and Liu that she forgets how dangerous this is. You… it’s sweet. You’re so confident that we’re going to figure this out and that we can handle whatever happens but one wrong move? And you’re dead.” You knew it was harsh to talk like that but you thought about it constantly. “You were confident about it in the arena too and look what happened, I…” You were upset and you didn’t want to be upset.

“Hey, hey…” Kung Lao placed his hand on your cheek to stop you from going on. Brow furrowed he pushed your hair away from your face. “Take a breath.” You did. It helped a little. He urged his hands to your shoulders and then down your arms. “I know all of that. I really do. I don’t mean to be dismissive… but I can’t help but think you have to take the risks. You can’t just hide away forever.”

“Am I hidden, Kung Lao? We are in… arguably the biggest city in the world. I’m here. Just… cut me some slack for being nervous. This is a new anxiety for me and I am learning to deal with it.”

“I don’t want you to stop living because of this. I want to make sure you still have fun.”

“I’m not worried about that! I’m not worried about having fun…” What did that have to do with anything?

“I know. And that worries me.” Kung Lao seemed exasperated. “This is so much stress and it’s going to eat you alive. Come on. Come with me.” He took your hand and started through the aisles.

“I’m shopping, Kung Lao.”

“It can wait.” He led you through the store and to the elevators. Pulling you inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. Your heart was suddenly racing. Kung Lao had been flirting on and off all day but this was different. You and Liu hadn’t drawn any lines in the sand about what you were but you knew she wanted to be with him. Don’t overthink it. That was all you had to do.

The elevator dinged and you walked onto the top floor that was filled with various appliances. Lao led you into the stairwell and you climbed the last staircase that led onto the roof. He pushed open the door and then walked with you to the edge of the building. A railing had been installed to keep people safe and there was a garden in dire need of watering. From there you could see much of the city. The air wasn’t exactly clear that day but it was still breathtaking. You hadn’t seen that much life in a long time. You leaned against the railing and watched the world below as it passed by. The wind howled that high up and whipped hair around.

“Everyone’s afraid of something. Every single one of those people down there.” Kung Lao had his arms folded on the railing, chin resting against them next to you.

“That’s true. But not everyone could kill the people they care about with the things that frighten them.”

“Maybe some can. Who are we to say?” He joked but then leaned up from where he’d rested his chin. “Y/N?”

“What, Lao?”

“I’ve been thinking and…” He hesitated but leaned one arm on the railing as he turned to face you.

“What is it?” You turned but felt your heart instantly leap into your throat. He took a step closer and towered over you. Panic. Sudden panic. Your first instinct was to stop him and tell him about Liu but nothing came out. The idea of hurting him was crippling. Part of you loved Kung Lao. You’d always loved him. You’d had a love affair without having ever been together. But this was different. He pushed your hair away from your face again, hand brushing gently down your cheek and then beneath your chin.

“You’re really special. You know that, right?”

That hadn’t been what you’d expected. What did he mean? And why?

“I’m sure that you feel as cursed as I tease you about being but… you’re special. Not everyone could handle the weight of what you’re dealing with. And not everyone would be responsible with it. Most people wouldn’t be, I think.” Kung Lao smiled. “Think of the kind of villain you could be. If you were to side with Outworld with this… insane power you have? The destruction that you’d be capable of… look, I’m not trying to convince you to do crimes, I’m just trying to say that you’re special. And you should know that.”

“Lao, I…” You furrowed your brow because through this whole thing you hadn’t thought of yourself as capable or special. But there Kung Lao was, rearranging everything in your head. How had he seen it but you hadn’t? Maybe you’d been given this gift and this curse for a reason. Maybe it was because you could handle it when others wouldn’t have been able to. His thumb brushed against your chin and then traced up your jaw. Okay, now he was going to try and kiss you. The mood was right but you kept thinking about Liu Kang and how deeply you’d fallen for him.

Then the door opened behind you.

Chen.

“Did you two really abandon me to have a romantic moment on the roof? Leaving me wandering the store in search of you for an hour?” She huffed and puffed but had several bags on her arm. She had enjoyed shopping at least. “I said to myself, I bet they’re on the roof. Having a romantic moment. Just had to sneak away. And here you are. Having a romantic moment. As predicted. Unbelievable.”

You took a step back and wiped your face, embarrassed. Kung Lao pulled off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and then replaced it again.

“Sorry. I got in my head. Needed to breathe.” Your face was red again.

“Sure, breathing is what that was.”

“I’m not sorry. Wish you’d been lost looking for us for a few more minutes.” Kung Lao sounded arrogant even as he slipped his arm around your shoulder and led you back toward the stairwell.

“Not at all surprising!” Chen called after you before joining you.

“Stop arguing. You’re making my head hurt.”

“But Y/N…”

“If you stop arguing, I will agree to get sushi.”

Chen and Kung Lao exchanged a glance and came to a silent agreement with a nod.

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random-imagines-blog · 4 years ago

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The Sky is Falling {Thranduil x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2871 Summary: Before you leave the shelter of Mirkwood, the King decides to tell you a story.

The wind that had been bad enough for you to appeal to Mirkwood for shelter seemed to subside until it was nothing more than a mutter against the tree tops. Weird weather during these odd times, you noticed. It wasn’t easy to be a traveler, even during this time of relative peace. You were just thankful that the elves had let you in, though you were not one of them. It was rare that they were so welcoming. Where you came from, they were nicknamed mountains, because they were tall and elegant, but harsh and cold at the same time. Despite that, they gave you a warm meal and a bed, and one that wasn’t in the dungeons, surprisingly enough. They tended to be mistrustful of others, but here you were, under your own quilt that you kept packed in your bag for the cold night, curled up in the bed. It was quite comfortable, but nonetheless, sleep was not coming peacefully.

You attempted to succumb to the black peacefulness of rest, but something kept interrupting - your restlessness. You enjoyed being on your feet, and being on the move. The longest that ever stayed in one place since leaving home was for a week, and here, you were already half way there. The usual itching that came from staying in a place too long was taking over you, and you knew that it was going to be a sleepless night.

The dark of the forest was intense, and as you rolled onto your back, you missed the stars, the moon. Nothing was beaming through the canopy above, protecting the homes of the Elves from rain and snow. Counting those stars was the best way to help you get to sleep, if a long day of walking didn’t do it for you. There was no use now - you tried to sleep and you couldn’t. You had planned on leaving the next day, continuing on your adventures but now seemed as good a time as ever. You would get a better sleep out of the woods, anyway.

You snacked on some of the honeycakes that the elves have given you, made from their own bees, supposedly. You never thought beekeeping would be a hobby of elves, but they did have the time for it, you supposed. You put a couple of those into your pack, tucking them into your quilt as you placed it into your pack, along with your spare sets of clothes and other supplies.

You were strapping the pack onto your back, and looking around to see if you had left anything behind when there was a knock on the door to your room and it opened to reveal a blonde elf. You knew this was one of the King’s lackeys, but you didn’t know which one. They all looked the same.

“Before you leave, King Thranduil would like to see you,” He said, with a bow of his head. You bit back your tongue, tempted to ask if he had been spying on you. And not even an apology for intruding into your room! But alas, given the hospitality that he had shown you, you could not decline an audience with the King.

“Lead the way,” You said, standing as tall as your frame would allow you to. It was nothing compared to the height of the elves, but you weren’t about to make yourself small in front of them. The elf bowed his head again, and held out his arm to the door. You stayed a short distance behind the elf, not wanting to lose him among the trees. There were winding pathways everywhere in Mirkwood. It would be far too easy to slip off of the path and become lost among the foliage. Despite the beauty of the place, you were ready to say goodbye and see what else was out there in the world. Middle Earth did have a border, and you were planning to walk from north to south, east to west and back again.

As you approached the throne room, you tried on different expressions. You weren’t sure which one would be the most appropriate to meet a King, since you’ve never met one before. Should you appear to be in awe of his majesty, or fear of his power? Happy to see him or sad to be leaving?

Walking into the grand room, you decided to stay neutral, not wanting to offend either way. Though you had planned on sneaking out, it was the right thing to thank him for his hospitality, especially since there were some honeycakes still in your pack.

The King was seated on a throne, with his back straight and proper. It must take him at least two hours out of everyday to comb through those long, blonde locks of his. The elf that you had followed in gave him more of a bow than he had given you, then walked back out of the doors that you had come through. Unsure of what to do, you gave a bow yourself, the way that you had been taught as a child. Just because you were a traveler didn’t mean that you didn’t have manners. Your parents had done their best to teach you well.

“King Thranduil, it’s an honor,” You said, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. You were surprised to find that his reaction wasn’t as formal as you had thought, but much more relaxed. In fact, he was chuckling as he rose up from his throne and began to saunter down the steps towards you. You admit it, you were staring at him with confusion, which was not one of the expressions that you had practiced.

“Y/N,” He said, then said your title; (y/g) of (y/f/n).

You were more than a little impressed that he knew your name, given that he was the King of this Realm. He had the time to learn the names of all the elves in his Kingdom, but a single traveler? Yes, impressive. “Lovely home you have here, Mirkwood,” You said, feeling the need to be kind and charming in the presence of such a royal. “I feel a bit of shame that I have to leave it.”

“And yet you woke with that very intention in mind,” He said, looking straight into your eyes. You lowered your own, feeling the force of that look.

“I did,” You admitted. “I’ve been traveling with the wind for sometime, and it is blowing me away again. I hope that at some point it will bring me back here, for it really is wonderful. The food, the bedding, especially the hospitality. I will always think of Mirkwood fondly, and speak of it so. But it is high time that I stopped taking advantage, and head on my way.”

“Do you assume that we look upon humans so little that we feel we are being taken advantage of?” Thranduil countered, with a raised eyebrow. You kept your eyes cast downward, attempting to think of anything to stop yourself from nodding. Think of dinner, think of honey cakes, think of anything but just don’t nod your head, you fool!

“I didn’t mean to assume, I just thought that as elves, you’re on a higher plane than us humans.”

Thranduil let out a little chuckle, which was better than these interrogation questions that he had been giving you. “Did you really find your stay pleasurable?”

“Oh yes, all except...” You hesitated as your mouth started to blurt what you were thinking.

You had spend far too long talking to yourself to pass the time on your travels, it seems.

“Except for what?” Thranduil’s voice came across as serious, though not offended which was a good sign.

“Except for I realized just how much I missed being beneath the stars,” You continued. It was difficult to stop once you had gotten started. “I like to look at the constellations at night. And track the moon so I know when the next full one will be. Those are the best nights to travel on, though they come with the possibility of bandits. Watch the sunrise early in the morning, and see the beautiful colors. The forest is beautiful, but the canopy is ... protective, a little too protective.”

“So you prefer the open skies rather than the cathedral of trees?”

“I suppose I do, Your Highness.”

You finally found the courage to lift your eyes to meet his. There was a glow about him, inexorably coming from within for it was night here. The lights were few and far between around here, since the elves had impeccable eye sight. They seemed to be more for the aesthetic than out of necessity.

“Before you leave, I would like to show you something. Come with me.” He offered his arm out to you as a request, which you could tell was just that, and not a question.

You accepted, curious despite not having a choice. You laid your hand gently on his forearm, and you were caught off guard by what you had felt.

While most of the elves that you had met were on the willowy side, Thranduil had strong arms under the soft and fancy fabrics that he donned.

You understood why he had offered you his arm as you walked away from the throne room. Once away from the floating lights, it was black as pitch out here. You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, not even your nose which was always out of focus, let alone your surroundings. You gave in completely, and allowed him to be your guide.

When you both emerged from the blackness of the forest, you were greeted by open fields and wide skies. What you had said apparently pushed Thranduil into taking a walk out here as well. Your breath hitched in your throat as the smell of the wheat, blowing softly in the grass, reached your nose. It reminded you of home. It wasn’t often you came across many cultivated fields like this. With the lights of Mirkwood being hidden by the trees, it really was just the two of you and the darkness of the night, along with the half-moon above. It looked like a crooked smile, with stars as eyes. You were still holding onto Thranduil and you gripped a little tighter as you saw a shooting star above. “Wow.”

“Varda’s gift,” Thranduil said. You looked up at him, finding his smooth voice to be a welcome addition to the night. You started to let go of him, and he didn’t counter that. But you stood close enough to feel the heat from his body. It wasn’t as much as a human man’s, but it was still enough to keep the main chill of the wind from penetrating into your bones. “The Queen of the Stars. She created them in the beginning of days. She fashioned them, and the constellations, for the awakening of the Elves. My father used to tell me the stories when I was a little elf,” You could just faintly make out the outline of his smile. “She established the courses of the Moon, and the Sun. They are illuminated with her own light, the light of Eru Ilúvatar.”

It was hard for you to see past what your own father had taught you. “I was taught that the stars are the spirits of our ancestors, looking out for us. Whole generations, going back to the beginning of time. It’s a comfort to think that we’re not alone when we feel that we most are. And that one day, I’ll be up there, looking upon my family.”

“I see,” Thranduil said in a voice which showed that he disagreed with what your belief was.

“But your story is more interesting than mine,” You admitted, wondering what a Queen of the Stars would look like. Beautiful, no doubt. “Was there a King of the Stars as well?”

“She was married to the elder King, Manwë. He was a kind and compassionate ruler. Free of evil, a rarity in all worlds, even this one.” He let out a little breath, as if contemplating on these last words.

“Sounds like the perfect man for one as good as her,” You said, putting your arms around yourself. Thranduil looked down upon you, remembered suddenly that you were a human who could suffer from temperatures around you - and you had not yet dressed for the weather outside.

“She is the favorite among the Valar,” He said, removing his outer cloak and putting it on your shoulders. Under the weight of it, you could feel just how luxurious the fabric was; fit for a King.

“I can understand why,” You said, relishing the warm feeling. “And it is ... it is wonderful that Elves respect the Queen in such a way. Among humans, it is always the men that are getting the praise. You only hear about the Kings, and very rarely are Queens and Princesses ever mentioned. There’s more equality among your race.”

“Again, you have underestimated us,” Thranduil continued, smoothly, making your cheeks flush. He had a point, you really had just thought that elves were snooty.

“I suppose that I have. Can you tell me more about Varda? I’d really like to know more about her. She’s all I’ll be thinking about when I look at the night sky, now.”

You and Thranduil stood on the edge of the forest, speaking about the history of the stars, according to his legends. And you even found yourself believing in it, imagining the unearthly beauty of Varda as she created the skies above. All through this, you fingered the lining of the inside of the cape, appreciating it’s grandeur.

You stayed until the sky seemed to brighten over in the East. The sun was starting to rise. The birds had started to sing. Dawn had snuck up on the two of you while you were talking.

“Thank you for taking the time, your Majesty, to tell me these things,” You said, realizing that it was far beyond time that you should be off. But you found yourself a little more reluctant than you had the day before. Your superstition about the moon guiding you through your adventures, warning you to leave, wasn’t as strong. In fact, the stories that you had heard told you that you really had no control over it, for Verda had brought you here, to Mirkwood. But you couldn’t take advantage of Thranduil’s time or hospitality any further. It was still time that you leave.

“Abandonment is an ugly habit,” Thranduil said, surprising you since that was not at all where you had thought the conversation was going. “And that includes abandoning what is best for yourself. You should stay a while longer, I have so much more that I could tell you. Teach you.”

“May I ask you a question,” You hesitated, though Thranduil nodded so you continued. “Why bother with a human?”

Thranduil turned to face you, his long blonde hair waving about so it sat imperfectly on his shoulders.

“You’re not just any human. I’ve been keeping my eye on you, since you’ve been here. You’ve caught my interest, Y/N, and it is rare that any mortal does that.”

“But my entire life is like a blink of an eye for you, it seems impossible that someone like I-”

“Why don’t you let your elder tell you just what is possible?”

Thranduil did have a point there, he had seen many things that one might have considered impossible at some time or another. Which made it all the more odd that he was interested in you, someone who you would consider to be pretty ordinary. “I suppose that I could stay a little longer, if you have more stories to tell.”

“A lifetime’s worth.” Thranduil gave you what you assumed was a rare smile, since it was the first time that you had seen it. He barely smiled at any of the other elves, you noticed. Not even his own son, a charming young elf named Legolas. Well, young for an elf, ancient to you. You started to shrug off the cloak to hand back to him, since the sun was warming up the day nicely, and you intended to get a little more sleep before the next story session began. But he put up a hand to stop you. “I think you should keep that - after getting it hemmed. You’re a short little thing, aren’t you?”

“Compared to you, maybe,” You said, grumbling but you couldn’t help but smile as you brought the cloak further on you, wrapping it around both your front and your back. It did drag on the ground behind you as he lead you back through the forest, but he didn’t even seem to mind that it was getting dirty.

It was yours now, after all.

#Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil oneshot #The Hobbit #The Hobbit oneshot #The Lord of the Rings #The Lord of the Rings oneshots #oneshot #one shot #LOTR #request

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thekrazykeke · 4 years ago

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See You Again [2]

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Relationship(s): Uta & reader.

Summary: in the sound of silence, we found sanctuary. in every word unspoken, love.

Warning(s): Angst, unspoken feelings. Pre-canon events but also very ambiguous timeline-wise. Disturbing mental imagery. Canon typical gore.

This little series was never meant to have a happy ending, so no screaming at me. I’ll accept your appreciation for my love of angst in reblogs, likes, comments or tears.

Seriously though, in all honesty, I hurt myself as I wrote this.

I dunno, I might indulge that impulsive urge of mine and write a one shot where they actually get together. Most likely not though, so no one hold their breath ahahaha.

[i.]

A smart person would never have returned to the little out of the way mask shop in the 4th Ward. You’d have chalked up the experience as weird and as common sense dictated, forgotten all about it.

That is the safer route, the sane option.

So of course, you decided to be stupid. You kept coming back to the shop, although you were careful with how you planned your visits, spacing them out in between sight seeing and being a general tourist.

The added bonus of your frequent visits being that although Uta’s face didn’t really change much expression-wise, you got the feeling that he was always a little surprised to see you.

“Do you really like it here that much?”

Pulling the oni mask away from your face, you glanced at Uta who stood a good distance away from you, hand in pocket, hip cocked against the edge of the counter. “What’s that now?”

“I said, ‘do you really like it here that much?’” Uta repeated himself, red on black eyes intently trained on your face. “This is the second time this week you’ve come by without buying anything.”

“Oof.” You exaggeratedly clutched at your chest. “That hurt, Uta-san. With how frequently I come by here, one would think you’d treat me as more than a customer. We’re friends now.”

“We’re not.”

The words are stated so bluntly and again, you clutch at your chest, miming being struck by an arrow. Uta didn’t respond to your joking around and playing, just stared at you. So, you cut the crap, reaching into your back pocket with a mock pout. “How much for this mask? I think it suits me.”

“10504.50 yen.” At the sight of your suddenly wide eyes and dropped jaw, Uta’s blank expression cracked, he smiled slightly and just for a split second. “Also, the mask doesn’t suit you.”

You turned your back to him, carefully returning the oni mask to the display it’d been set up on. The next second you turned around, you nearly jumped out of your skin at how close Uta is now. “Hey now! Shit, you need a bell or something.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t pay attention.”

You can’t even pull off your comedic routine and drop your head in an ‘ashamed’ manner because you’d probably most likely hit your head against his chest, he’s standing that close. Before you could ask him to either back up and inquire what was his reason for being in your personal space, a tattooed finger reached out, lightly touching your chin, encouraging you to look up, so that’s what you did.

“...I can create a mask for you. Something that suits you.” He’s now adjusting your face, the faintest touch causing you to move this way and that.

“Aww! That’s nice of you, Uta-sa-”

“The base color would be silver, perhaps. And the eyes would sewn shut, the better to hide your grief and... the anger.” He’s musing aloud, words quiet and almost a whisper, but you heard him. Part of you think it’s deliberate, that he’s making fun of you, mocking you.

And it worked.

You reached a hand up, setting it upon his wrist. Uta blinked, staring down at your hand, then his unique gaze switched to you, and he.... for a lack of better words, it’s like he snapped out of that artist’s mode. He dropped his hand and took one step out of your personal bubble then another and another before whirling around and started walking away.

He lifted a hand in farewell, waving it about in a sort of shooing manner.

“Come back again in two to three weeks.”

That should have been the end of you and his interactions.

Regardless of how intriguing he is, he’d pressed on one of your triggers, maybe even on purpose, and you already had too short of a life to put up with the bullshit. Then again, maybe it was for that reason entirely that you decided that you were gonna keep seeing him, even after he finished the mask, to annoy him to death of course.

Until he told you upfront to go away, you wouldn’t. That’s what you decided.

And with that resolution settled in your head, you could go about your business. You enjoyed the sights, the food, and although your judgement said it’d be a bad idea, you had a couple of one night stands. The first is a lawyer that you’re like pretty sure has kids and a wife, and the other is a stressed college kid.

The experience left you unsatisfied and irritated.

Since your last encounter with Uta had been...awkward and strained, you decided to bring a peace offering. Cream puffs for yourself with green tea and a cup of black coffee for him. You’d picked up on the fact that he liked the beverage without sugar and cream like the total heathen he is. You idly wondered if he even enjoyed sweet things or maybe he was one of those weird folks who liked sour and spicy stuff all the time.

The fact that you’re even thinking about this and it didn’t sink in as odd or out of place until the moment you crossed the threshold of HYSY Studios, taking note of the fact that the place is as gloomy and empty of customers as always.

“’Ey! Uta, where you at!?”

There’s a vibration against your leg. You juggle the items in your hold carefully before tugging out your cellphone and entering the passcode to unlock the phone. The most recent text message you’d received from Uta about four minutes ago informed you of the fact that he’s in the back of the studio, like the very, very back, where all the unused and returned masks were. Now the only reason you knew all this information is because of how often you pestered Uta about it.

You’re at an impasse.

You could do as he asked and bring your treat to him while you were at it or you could wait and avoid the potential jump scare that Uta was totally capable of inflicting upon you.

‘To go or not to go, that is the question.’

Everything pointed to the clear conclusion that no, you absolutely should not go back there. Every horror movie cliché ended with the female protagonist being killed or gravely injured because she was so stupid as to go in the dark, alone, by herself.

‘Uta isn’t a killer though.’ That’s what you tried to tell yourself, the argument weak and pitiful in your brain.

You did not know this man well enough to be in the back where it wouldn’t be easy access to the front door, where you couldn’t bolt if he did something strange. However, you did own a mini taser and always carried mace, just as a precaution, so...

So....

Slowly, reluctantly, you did as he instructed, every warning and life training you’d received up to this point in your life sending out red neon signs telling you to wait, not be an idiot, to please please stay where you are. And you ignored all those survival instincts, heading deeper into the studio, your footfalls loud and eerie the further in you went.

Until you find him.

He’s apparently unfazed by your belated presence, focus wholly consumed with his work. Red on black eyes glanced at you for but a moment and what you carried and then at the coffee. “There’s a mini fridge, leave everything there, except the coffee. I’m almost done.”

Having some mild experience with artists and creative sorts, you avoid looking at the mask he’s working on, instead setting down the coffee in an empty space he vaguely gestured to.

Then you walk the short distance to where the only mini fridge in the room is, reaching out, you pull it open. And it’s the scent that alerts you; the fresh tang of blood. It’s too late to stop yourself and you see it, everything. The jar of eyeballs, the carefully wrapped packages of ‘meat’.

‘I’m in a back room with the potential copycat Jeffery Dahmer or...or....’

You’re not an idiot, all these little things you’d casually dismissed because you hadn’t cared enough to pay attention, to see... And now here you are. Here you are.

Fuck.

Swallowing, you calm and dampen the inner voice sCREAMING, then casually as possible, grip wobbling only slightly, do you put your treat inside the mini fridge right alongside the human body parts and flesh, then close the door, turning around.

Uta is still hard at work on the mask but his movements are slowing down.

As if nothing is amiss, you stride over just as he finally pauses to take a sip of coffee. “This is one of the ways that you make masks. Really. That’s interesting…” And you meant it too. Legs crossed, you leaned against the table, watching the mask maker in his element.

He smiles at you in that enigmatic way. “Thank you.”

The visit continues without much else in the way of incidents and subtly unsubtle revelations.

You don’t really talk and Uta doesn’t make you.

Less than twenty minutes later, once he deems the mask complete, he stands up and stretches, arms raising overhead, revealing an expanse of creamy, pale, lean and muscled torso.

Glancing away a beat too late, you catch Uta as he smiles, again, the smile lengthens into a smirk. He reaches out and plucks up the half mask delicately, taking a step towards you and your heart traitorously lurches in your chest.

Self-preservation makes you want to run as he comes closer, closer, closer...

Logic keeps you rooted in place as he carefully puts the mask on you. Tattooed fingers brush the strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, lingering as he feels the flutter of your pulse beneath his fingertips.

“Your heart is racing like a hummingbird.” he muses. You stare out at him from beneath the safety of the mask, the bone surprisingly not pinching or cutting your skin. “And here I thought nothing could scare you.”

“Unfortunately fear makes up the majority of the human psyche.” You can’t help the quip, tone dry. “But you’re my friend, so it’s fine.”

That last comment causes Uta to blink and stare at you in blatant surprise for a minute or two. Then he pulls himself together and shakes his head, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. “...I suppose we are friends.”

“Cool. So how much for the mask?” You reach up, about to remove it but Uta swatted at your hands, the action hard enough to sting but not leave damage. You still squawk indignantly anyway.

“It’s free. Creating it got me out of my block, so thank you.” Bringing out a cellphone, he takes a couple pictures with you, making you turn, pose, and pretty much just show off.

Once he’s done, he snags your tea and cream puffs out the fridge, then walks you to the front of the studio, giving a small wave goodbye. Brain swimming with what you just learned, amazed that he hadn’t just killed you straight off, you glance at the chilled green tea in your hand then after mentally shrugging to yourself, you take a sip and shove a cream puff in your mouth.

Hell, after the day you’ve had, you deserve to be rewarded.

Time passes, as it inevitably does.

You receive more calls from Kiani, from other friends and family members, but you are resolute in staying in Japan.

Much to your surprise, you’d actually gotten comfortable being there. Though that might have had something to do with Uta, who you continue to visit, and if he’s surprised or put out, none of that shows on his face. It’s fun to drag him places, to be around him, and you can laugh at his jokes, even the deadpan, making-fun-of-humanity ones.

He even lets you meet his other ghoul friends, Itori and Renji.

Through it all, these changes and fun things, your health slowly, steadily, gets worse even as you and Uta get closer, muddling about in a rather confusing grey area of friends...and more...

As always, the two of you are hanging out, this time you’d dragged him to an amusement park, and he held onto some of the prizes you won, gamely snapped a couple photos of you in ridiculous poses and making silly faces, etc.

It felt like a date.

Like, you’re returning from a date.

When that thought ran through your brain, you automatically looked at Uta, catching sight of his profile in the light of the setting sun and your heart clenched as you realized that he’s beautiful.

It’s with difficulty that you manage to look away but not before he catches you staring from the corner of his eye. “You’re always looking at me… Yet, you never try and get closer…” Uta’s hands are in his pockets and he is barely a foot away. “Does fear keep you at a distance…” He took a step forward.

Coming almost uncomfortably close.

“Or is there another….”

Without conscious thought, you tilt your head up and your lips meet his.

The contact is light, barely a graze, and there’s the cool sensation of his lip ring...it’s odd but hardly distracting. Your heart is beating like a jack rabbit in your chest and you know this isn’t good for you.

As you go to pull away, to disconnect, that’s when Uta finally, finally, responds.

He places a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close before tilting his head, leaned in and kissed you again.

There’s nothing teasing or patient about it. He nipped your bottom lip, barely waiting for you to part your lips before his tongue twined and stroked, expertly playing with your own, and you felt a zing of excitement travel down you spine as your tongue lightly grazed his tongue ring.

Your right hand goes to his shoulder, squeezing, holding on desperately as your legs threaten to give out.

Effortlessly, Uta holds you up, his other hand going to the dip of your back, and when you break the kiss to get some air into your burning lungs, Uta peppers feather light kisses down the column of your throat, sucking a spot just behind your ear. Only when you gasp his name, a mere whisper of a breath really, only then, does he finally stop.

Uta tops that....bombardment off with a light kiss to your forehead, lingering. Then he murmurs into your ear, “That’s how you kiss me from now on.”

With his piece said, as if he hadn’t pretty much swept you off your feet and left you stuck in LaLa Land, Uta brushed a hand down his shirt, straightening out imaginary wrinkles, before he walked away. It took a few seconds for your brain to reboot and then you hurried after him, chastising him for being mean.

There are a hundred different words that lingered on the edge and never escape your mouth. A thousand questions you never got the answer to.

There are no more kisses between you and Uta.

You pass away in your sleep that night December 31, 2XXX at 11:59 P.M. alone in your rented hotel room, dreaming of an impossible reality; of happiness between yourself and the ghoul who for a brief moment, made you feel important, seen, and desired.

Almost as if he could love you.

#uta #tokyo ghoul #uta imagine #black reader #uta tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul imagine #uta x reader #tg #human reader #tg imagine #thekrazykeke

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years ago

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Hello Mayra! Hope you're doing well, perhaps a prompt to make you feel better? This is canon adjacent but also kind of AUish. Weresonamy but it takes place in the Storybook world (you knows those games). Sonic is now the big bad wolf and Amy is little red riding hood. At first she's afraid of him which hurts Sonic but there's a bigger threat and he jumps into action protecting little red. So the werehog saves the day and earns little reds trust and he realizes how much important Amy's support is

<3 I could always feel better lol But I’m doing great, thanks for asking! :Db

Also, still not sure if Canon Adjacent means Semi-Canon..? Eh? -help please I’m old and I don’t read fanfiction anymore lolol-

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN. You know the drill, don’t send any more prompts until they’re announced to be reopen again! :Db

My response and first impression of this prompt: Pajama Blogs - Prompt Requests Ep. 1 (x - 41:05)

Prompt:

I was told to immediately head to Miss Vanilla’s house with Cream and I’s cookies. I was holding her hand as the path grew dark and strange noises kept crushing the leaves that blew in the full moon night.

I heard grunting at different intervals, and as Cream clung close to me, I stroked her head but couldn’t find the strength inside myself to open my mouth and give her encouragement. Comfort... I greatly needed that too.

“M-Miss Riding Amy?”

She was a kind girl, Cream. A small rabbit, that any predator would make a gruesome snack out of. I was a traveling adventurer who just happened to be fortune telling when she asked me for this favor.

Her mother lived so far out into the enchanted woods... doesn’t she know the stories and rumors? Even in all my travels... I’ve never heard of a forest this dense with evil magic!

“What is it, Little Cream?” I asked, moving the basket from her arm and switching it to my other side, cradling her once burdened arm now tightly within my own.

Escorting was the easy part, but monsters were at the forefront of my worries.

“D-do you think mother is safe living so far from town?” She asked me.

‘How the heck would I know, kid?’ I made a sour face, but kept my slurring suspicions to myself. “She’s your mother, Cream.” I finished my thought out loud, even with the tone of my voice being rather foul. “Which means she’s got to be twice as strong and brave as you! Right?” I bounced her arm in mine, smiling down to her from my red hood with a white rim that coupled nicely with my dress. It was tied tightly around my neck and even looked good with my corset, something I had picked up along my travels. “Now then, stay close, and everything will be alright, okay?” I manipulated my voice to sound assured, the only comfort I had waited for my lips to speak seemed more for myself than anything else.

Still,... I wasn’t going to leave a helpless little bunny to the hands of these deadly forest.

I glared at them, as though warning them that at any wrong move, I’d hammer them!

We continued down the dark path before I couldn’t tell dirt from moss anymore, and the colors dulled into deep blues and blacks, the moonlight no longer helping from the shadow of the trees above...

“Hmm...” I frowned, trying to gauge by the wind if a storm was coming... I squinted my eyes through the cold and thought I saw a shadow turn and inch closer to a tree.

I took Cream’s hand tighter, “Let’s keep moving...” and continued my brisk steps towards where the compass pointed us too.

I didn’t see it till later... but scratch marks revealed the sign had been tampered with, and with the compass pointing north, but the sign saying that her Mother’s cabin was another way... I took the other path.

I shook the compass when it was clear we were walking on grass, with no more trodden down carriage routes, and then...

We heard the howl.

“Miss Riding Amy!” Cream jumped into an embrace at my waist, as I put an arm protectively to her back and looked around. I could hear soft, misty voices as creatures that looked like chameleons began to materialize as though invisible this whole time! Tracking us?! They crawled down the trees with hooks for feet, sharp bluish and purple bodies with horns, and their tongues flung out and wiggled themselves in front of us before they jumped to attack.

I summoned my hammer and threw Cream back behind me, and as my first powerful swing locked onto one of the nightly creatures, my hoodie flung off.

I also didn’t know... that a beast within the forest’s eyes dilated at seeing my face, who had secretly followed us in the hopes of guiding us back on the correct path... hidden this whole time as well, when he saw my face, he immediately disregarded his own reservations at staying out of sight, and used the cover of darkness to swing his massive fists, stretching far and wide, to make it look like my hammer throws were hitting them all.

I didn’t see through his illusion, instead, I thought I was whipping my hammer around so fast that the monsters couldn’t keep up, till one ducked and dodged both our tactics and walloped me right in the chin. I was flung back, with poor Cream’s basket getting thrown in the impact and landed with her cookies that we had spent so long making.

This quest was harder than I thought.

I scooted back on the ground as Cream cried out to me, but the monster tried to ready his tongue to lasso Cream, when an even larger beast finally sprung out into our sights, and began to throw a gorilla-like tantrum with his arms, banging the ground and causing it to shake.

He roared fiercely and grabbed the chameleon by it’s ankles, swinging him wildly as it looked like an unwanted carnival ride, round and round.

His fur shuffled in the wind as he finally released the foul terror and it slammed against a tree, twitching... before it’s misty hide disintegrated back into the forest’s magic power...

I quickly pulled myself up and gripped Cream in fright, but held my hammer out with harsh pants, still not fully quitting without a good struggle first.

The beast relaxed it’s shoulders... then slightly turned its head to us.

I continued to hold my hammer out, before shifting it behind my shoulder, ready to swing at any given notice.

He slowly reached his hand out, letting its true length be known and lifted it above my hammer as I swung to defend ourselves, but we were both surprised when he picked up the basket.

He then swiftly gathered up the cookies with precision in his claws and lengthy fingers, before withdrawing his arm back to it’s normal, monstrous-still size and presented it at our feet.

We were still both laying upon the ground, except my torso raised slightly, before he nodded and was about to walk away when we heard a woman’s voice shriek out in fright.

“Mother!” Cream called, looking behind me and taking off.

“Cream! Wait!” I didn’t even think about the basket, and took off after her. Dust in our wake, I suddenly looked back to see the blue, hairy monster carrying the basket in his mouth, and lowering his head, scooped me up and onto his back. “W-wo-AHH!!” I gripped his back like a baby monkey, just trying to not get jostled off as he raced on all fours with such velocity.

‘He doesn’t look to be hunting Cream.’ I surmised, and then for a moment, actually thought riding this beast was my calling... it was fun, it felt like I was meant to trust him... I only had this feeling when drawing tarot cards, and seeing the fortune of ‘Destined Love’ written upon it...

“I don’t know who you are-!” I immediately shouted out, positioning myself more comfortably upon his back as he dipped his head and was about to scoop up Cream to his back as well, “But let’s save this family!” before another even more frightening beast that looked like a phoenix swooped down and clamped its claws to her. “Ah!” I cried out in shock, it happening so fast.

“Oh no!” The burly voice of the monster had thrown the basket back up to me and I caught it instinctively, before seeing him reach out his hand to extend it again beyond normal means, and grab a branch.

Like a springboard, we were slingshotted to that branch as I let out another yelp of shock.

This... was surprisingly fun! If it didn’t mean my little friend and her mother were in danger.

“Can you go faster!?” I encouraged, and suddenly, the beast seemed to take offense to that.

“Hold on!” he called out, a harsh grumble in his voice he may have not meant to make, and immediately we began swinging and launching ourselves closer and closer to the flying bird creature, when I noticed another--adult--rabbit in it’s other talon.

“It’s got her mother!” I cried out, and his eyes seemed to bleed with the necessity to save them as well.

“Do you trust a monster?” He asked, dropping to the ground after each failed jumped couldn’t get us close enough to reach them.

I held my hammer at the ready, looking to the strange beasts as though the term ‘monster’ didn’t suit how heroic he was being in trying to help us.

“N-no.” I stated, and he looked down a moment, as though disappointed. “I trust you.” I stated, boldly and point-blankly. “You’re willing to risk life and limb just for a couple of girls... I wouldn’t know a monster that noble, but I do know heroes that stalwart and true.”

His head rose and for the first time, I could see his full face. He looked touched by my words... before nodding with a narrowing of his eyes. “Alright then, Miss Rose Rider. Prepare to ride to wind!”

“W-what?”

He shot his arms out and pulled himself back, just like a slingshot position!

“Ho, boy!” I bit on my hammer and kept it between my teeth, realizing I needed to hold onto this ride with both hands....

He strained, before finally whiplashing us both into the air.

“Now, go!” He reached back to grip me, as best he could without injuring me with his brute strength, and threw me like an arrow across the night sky to the belly of the beast.

“HHHAAAAA!!!!” I slammed my hammer into it’s gut and had it coughing up a storm, dropping it’s prey as the woman and her child screamed upon their descent.

“Hero!” I called out, deciding never to use the term ‘beast’ or ‘monster’ again for such a kind soul.

The Hero seemed to understand I was addressing him, and threw out his arms to grab the girls and tucked them into his chest... falling down... Oh no...

“NOO!!” He was taking the plunge for them!

I wasn’t able to think about it long though, as the dark phoenix cried out and came for me, but I whammed it’s beak away from devouring me and grabbed a talon, using its body to take the hit for me on the ground while I remained safe at the underbelly of it’s feathers.

Spitting out said feathers, I then frantically backed tracked further into the forest, before seeing Vanilla and her daughter crouched over the Hero, tears of regret in their eyes.

“He... He took the fall for us. All of it.” Vanilla admitted, seeing that I was the one with Cream.

“Oh, Miss Riding Amy...” Cream wiped her tears, holding her mother’s hand and pulling themselves away from him. “He was the bravest, nicest wolf I’ve ever known!” She then pulled me into that said hug, but my eyes never left the body of the Hero.

His fur swiveled in the breeze... and the forest moaned as if losing something precious.

“N-...No...” My cards never predicted this... I moved the grieving girl and mother apart from me,... crawling to the Hero’s fallen form. “Please... I still want to... I still want to know you... I want to thank you...” My voice began to break, gripping his fur in my white gloves. “I didn’t even know your name...” I sobbed more than I ever thought I could have...

“I... I love you... Mr. Wolf, sir.” Cream began, “Thank you... for saving both me, my mother... and my friend.”

I shook my head, “You and I... we fought like a supersonic comet... that bird didn’t know what hit’em.”

Then...

While the sun began to rise... his form twitched and rumbled as though something was happening.

I pulled away only when a bright light flashed and yellow streams of golden ribbons flew around him.

He was lifted into the air and the golden streams wrapped around him before revealing a handsome--more beautiful hedgehog man than I’ve ever seen in all my life--slowly floating down to the ground before blinking his eyes open.

“Who...” he began, rubbing his head and shaking it as he got upright, spooking us all as we were jaw struck. “Who said my name..? And that they... could love a beast?”

We had a big party that night at Vanilla and Cream’s home. Cream explained her mother didn’t like her walking the path at night, due to the trickery of the forest dwelling monsters, but that she always knew a kind, mysterious figure protected her and her daughter every time they crossed.

On this particular day, Cream was attending the Chao Kindergarten in the village and had played so long with the Chao, had forgotten the time. Vanilla was so worried she went in search of Cream, finding the wolf and asking if he was the one that kept them safe all those many years they lived there.

He agreed to go on ahead before finding Riding Amy with Cream, and stalked them to make sure they got to safety, but was too afraid to reveal his cursed form.

The curse could only be broken by someone speaking his name after a declaration of admiration and love.

“That’s... amazing.” I was still in awe at how handsome the young hedgehog man looked. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, but when he looked at me, my heart raced and I had to look away, pulling up my hood so he couldn’t see my blushing cheeks. “You should-! Ehem.” I was getting too excited... “You should come with me on my travels. I’m sure you could do a lot of good now that you’re not so afraid of what others may think of you.” I explained.

Though, in my heart, no matter what box this beautiful man came in... he was still a hero... just... more dashing in this form!

He smiled to me, and I felt my soul withdraw into his arms at such a sunny-disposition.

“I’ve always wanted to see the world, so that sounds great! But...” He looked to Vanilla.

“We’ll be fine.” She patted his arm. “You’ve been watching over us all in the village for far too long, time we took precautions for ourselves!”

We both didn’t realize that the Chao were formidable fighters... and ended up joining with each villager to protect them come night time, where their little forms could judo slam any monster that tried to trick in the night!

Sonic and I... We... hehe!

Well... The cards are never wrong.

I was destined to ride alongside the spirit of the wind!

#sonamy #sonamy prompt #weresonamy #sonic au #sonic au prompt #weresonamy prompt #weresonamy au #weresonamy au prompt #cutegirlmayra

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babiemingoo · 4 years ago

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lollipop boy || jeon wonwoo

summary: greaser!wonwoo is only kind of your friend when he comes up with a stupid (but brilliant) plan to piss off your ex boyfriend and test just what person you claim to have become

genre: greaser!wonwoo, suggestive? || wc: 2.6k

a/n: this is actually a snippet of my next series I have planned, so I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

This was awkward.

As you sat there, thumbs twiddling mindlessly in an attempt of a distraction from the tension, you couldn’t escape how awkward of a situation you were in. When your friend Sien had texted that she was running late but someone should already be there waiting, you had hoped with every cell of your being that the someone wasn’t Wonwoo. But when you opened the front door of the diner nestled in the middle of your hometown, the only member of your newfound “friend group” that had arrived on time was, of course, Wonwoo.

The diner was classic, with a neon sign hanging above the milkshake bar and a worn down jukebox near the corner window looking like it had survived every teenager in your town since the 1940s. The color scheme of red, white and gray made the boy wrapped in a shiny black leather jacket look even more so out of place than he already was. He never seemed to care, though, always sat in the exact same spot on a Wednesday afternoon, flipping through his auto vehicle magazine with a lollipop between his lips while his friends bustled about excitedly. Except, his friends were late, and now it was just the two of you together despite the fact that you had spoken more less 20 words to him since you met.

If silently sitting across the said boy wasn’t awkward enough, the diner was pretty dead for a Wednesday when most people your age tended to trickle in - except for, with your luck, your ex boyfriend. Him and your old friend group were huddled about in the opposite end of the diner, next to the jukebox that you knew they liked to hang around to play their favorite 70s songs while they loitered. None of them seemed to have noticed your arrival apart from the boy that you used to spend every Wednesday holding hands with. Now you two side glance at each other, looking away in the split millisecond when your eyes meet and pretend like it didn’t happen. You repeat the action probably five times before a deep voice pulls you out of the routine, “So much for hating his guts, huh?”

Wonwoo’s still skimming his eyes through the words printed next to a picture of a motorcycle in the magazine, but you know he was the one that had just spoken to you. “What are you talking about?” You question him, feigning ignorance. His deep chuckle cuts through the air as you observe the candy he has wrapped in his fingers, just an inch away from his mouth so he’s able to voice out his thoughts. One thing you had noticed about Wonwoo was that he always had a lollipop with him. Sometimes it was green, or purple, or even blue; but today it was his classic red shade. His usual soda was always red, all the candy he bought at the liquor store was red, and the chapstick that he would pull out every now and then was that of the same color and flavor; the one you have realized to be his favorite. Cherry.

“You tell everyone how much you hate him for what he did to you, but you keep making love eyes at him,” The boy across from you states in a tone that you’re sure is dripping with arrogance. “Not surprised though. I told Sien that you would run back to rich boy the first chance you got.”

You scoff at the audacity he had. The two of you may have been in the same friend group, and you’ve come to have a soft spot for a few of them - like Sien and Jun - but Wonwoo speaks as if he has a right to judge you or any of your past. Wonwoo was the only one out of the group of greasers that you felt hadn’t really taken to you and you’re certain it’s because of your old friends and boyfriend that he hated so much. Every part of you itched to prove him wrong about every assumption he had made about your life. “I’m not going to run back to him!” You say to him with determination, in a low voice.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Wonwoo closes the magazine. He quickly folds the corner of the page he was on to not lose his spot, shuts it, and pulls the lollipop out of his mouth again before saying, “Everytime we meet up at a spot and he’s around, you both make puppy eyes at each other like you’ll run into each other’s arms in a flower field and sing love songs. Even I can’t ignore it and I make it a point to half ignore everyone. Just admit you want to make your boy toy miss you, get your job done and go back to your perfect little life. Don’t drag my friends into this.” The way his voice comes out is laced with venom and you feel it. You always had a hunch that Wonwoo held dislike for you rather than indifference, but this is the first you’re hearing of his theory that you’re just using your new friend group to prove something to your ex.

“I’m sorry if the guy I was with for three years and had to break up with a few weeks ago still holds a little part of my heart,” You retort with sass. “But I’m not going to go back to him. What he did was so completely fucked up and even if I’ve been with him for that long I have more self worth, I know that I deserve more-”

Ding.

It was a bad habit of yours to leave your ringer on. A habit that had got you written up in class more times than you can count, one that got you caught during friend gatherings when you and Seungkwan were trying to sneakily talk behind the other boys’ backs. And now, it was a habit that had you caught up with Wonwoo. The brightness of your phone screen was almost mocking in the way that it illuminated the notification you had just gotten from your ex boyfriend standing across the room, letters sewed together in a text that said, ‘hey can we talk?’

You catch the text message in the corner of your eye and Wonwoo does, too. He laughs; a deep chuckle of satisfaction that matches his tone when he says, “Preppy boy is calling. Shouldn’t you go kiss and make up?”

It’s silent for a beat. Wonwoo is infuriating in the way that he’s never gone easy on you, even the first day you had met, Sien bringing you to their table with tears streaming down your face and his first sentence to you had been a tease. He’s infuriating in the way now that he’s fully expecting you to turn around and head in your ex’s direction to talk. He’s infuriating in the way that you consider actually doing it.

“Well?” He questions, head nodding towards the man who used to occupy all your time and all your thoughts. Instinctively you turn around and make eye contact with him for the sixth time that day and his eyes are pleading, waiting. Waiting. Just like you had been sitting, waiting for him all those days and weeks while he had been running around, betraying you, lying to you-

“Aren’t you going to go talk to your lover boy?”

“No.”

The answer leaves your lips before he can even finish his question. Truthfully you were hoping Wonwoo would look impressed, or a little surprised in the least. He doesn’t. All he offers you is a smug grin as his tongue peaks out of lips, lapping at the red lollipop a few times before he speaks, “Bullshit.”

You want to counter his cockiness but he beats you to it, adding, “Don’t string it on, sweetheart. The others will get here and then you’ll have to explain just how weak you are for your ex in front of all of them. I won’t say anything to them; you can do that yourself later. Just go back to your preppies where you’d rather be.”

Sweetheart? Weak? Where you’d rather be? Gosh, the nerve Wonwoo always had with you. You roll your eyes before crossing your arms at him, vision narrowing, “I’m not going to talk to him. I don’t want to talk to him. He fucked me over and now we’re done.”

“Really?” He questions with his eyebrows raised, but you know he’s mocking you. The boy wants to test you because he still thinks he knows you and that all his assumptions of you are right.

You want to prove him wrong. “Yup! I hate him and I don’t want anything to do with him. If I could make him see that him and I are completely done, I would.” The tone of your voice made every word come out with conviction. You wanted to make it a point that you think - no - you knew that you were done with your ex. Whatever the two of you had was completely finished after how he had mistreated you and your heart, and you needed to show that to Wonwoo. You need to show that to yourself. You wanted to prove him and everyone else who doubted you, wrong.

Ding.

Another notification. Another text message. Another attempt of your ex trying to crawl back into your life, your heart, the letters on your phone screen now fitting together to create your name in question. From the corner of your eye you can see his gaze; no longer pleading but begging. He wants to talk. The deepest, darkest depths of your heart will you to get up and listen. Your brain says to stay put. Another chuckle from Wonwoo.

“You sure you’re done with him?”

With gritted teeth, you harshly grab your phone and flip it upside down so the screen can’t mock you anymore. “I’m sure.”

Wonwoo finally looks just the slightest impressed by your reaction. But not convinced - not at all. Strangely, he gets up, says nothing as he walks around the table and sits next to you before facing you with a glint in his eye. His lollipop is wrapped around his mouth until he pulls it out again to say, “Prove it.”

This day is a bunch of firsts. The first time you’ve had a conversation with Wonwoo (albeit a negative one, but still), the first time you’ve gotten heated since you found out what your ex had done, and the first time you’ve ever seen Wonwoo so up close. Your eyes follow the creases of his lips, across his laugh lines which are - surprisingly - fairly prominent, past his nose and cheekbones and to his eyes, small but fierce and shaped in a way that has you wondering if you would’ve enjoyed looking at them under different circumstances. You try not to get yourself too caught up in the intricacies of his features and distract yourself by countering, “Prove what?”

“Put your money where your mouth is. You said that if you were able to make him see that you two were done, you’d do it. You said you don’t want to go back to him, then prove it.” The leather of his jacket squeaks a little when he shrugs.

“Wha- How am I supposed to-”

“Kiss me,” His tone is so casual in the way he says it, like every other word that he’s ever targeted at you hasn’t been spoken with condescending undertones and haughty implications. You want to keep your sassy facade but you begin to gape at him like a fish out of water, gasping for some sort of clarity on the situation. There is no way he could be seriously asking this of you when the two of you had barely established a frenemies relationship. In fact, it was more of the enemies than it is friends.

He smirks at the way you’re caught off guard (because he’s a little shit) and repeats himself while scooting closer, “You don’t have to, but as a guy I’ll tell you - if I saw the girl who used to be my everything kissing another guy after I had texted her asking to talk to her? I think I’d get the hint.”

You can’t help the way the cogs in your head turn together to make sense of what he says, even if it’s a bit out of left field. Technically, you did say that you would show your ex he no longer had a chance with you, if you were able to do so. You wonder if doing such a thing like kissing Wonwoo would give the boy across the room a big old fuck you like he deserved. Your gaze travels to the said boy, who’s eyes have changed to hold something of confusion and wonder. Was he confused at why Wonwoo had come to sit next to you? In an attempt to support or debunk your hypothesis, you scoot closer to Wonwoo, your hand finding it’s way against his jean clad knee where the frayed rips let you two meet skin to skin.

The emotions behind your ex’s eyes shift. They’re shocked now; angry. Hurt. Those were the same feelings you felt all those weeks ago when the world came crashing down at your shoulders and your relationship went with it.

You take your attention and put it back on Wonwoo, who’s breath you can feel against your face with how impossibly close you two have gotten. He’s smirking again. Similar to moments ago when your eyes scanned over his face, his gaze begins to do the same to you; memorizing the dip of your cupid’s bow and the tip of your nose.

The boy lets out a breath when his eyes find their way up, meeting yours. Hand on your waist. Head tilting, “Kiss me,” He repeats.

You lean forward. Your lips touch. He might have just meant a peck, just to get your ex riled up. But the way your lips fit together implied so, so much more than a peck. They move together, slotting against each other in a way that would’ve convinced anyone in the room that you two have been captivated by each other with adoration and nothing but. The thought of how mad your ex probably is begins to get buried in the back of your mind when you start to focus on him, Wonwoo, and the way that he feels. The way his right hand pulls you just the slightest bit closer even if there’s no more room. The way his left hand reaches behind your neck to cradle you in place like he wants the two of you to keep kissing for hours.

All thoughts of everything else that had been going on in your life begins to dissipate in your head as you get caught up in him. In this moment you only think one thing: Wonwoo. Wonwoo Wonwoo Wonwoo. Wonwoo in his leather jacket, Wonwoo on his motorcycle, Wonwoo holding his magazine, Wonwoo looking at you, Wonwoo holding you- It’s funny, because earlier today you were dreading Wonwoo. Now it seems like your subconscious craves him, head leaning forward as if he was going anywhere. You want to remember this; even if the future version of yourself is going to pretend like you didn’t enjoy it. So your tunnel vision goes completely there to his lips, his kiss. You make sure to note the way he tastes just so you can brand him and this kiss with it for the rest of your life. You’ll make sure to associate this taste with him forever so that every time you have another lick of it you’re reminded of this day that Jeon Wonwoo stole your breath straight out of your mouth. You memorize what your taste buds feel when you kiss him. Cherry.

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #caratwritersclub #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fics #seventeen one shot #kpop #kpop fics #seventeen x reader #svt #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #seventeen au #seventeen wonwoo

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thesculptedflower · 4 years ago

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A Firecracker

May I request a Riddler x reader, where they meet during a heist, and after taking hostages and what not, the Riddler nabs the reader as a prize too.

@craftyjellyfishcat

Note: I have to push the S1 Ed fic to tomorrow, I’m so sorry! Things came up at home, but it’ll be posted asap! Love you guys!

A Firecracker

’’Number 357!’’ The banker shouted, the queue moving painstakingly slowly. You glanced down at the number on your paper. 401. You sighed, prepping yourself for the next few hours you’d have to spend at the Gotham City Bank. You had fought your way up the cruel path of being a small business owner in Gotham, where basically anyone was a rival to you. People only look after their own gain, rarely wanting to see the neighboring business succeeding. You had faced many threats from businesses that were run by big and important families, but you didn’t lower your head. You fought back, even when they tried to burn down your place. It was a sloppy job, and they were quickly caught and brought to justice. Which was exactly why you were now queueing at the bank, the court had granted you a small fund to help you re-build. It felt good to be aided, but it also painted a huge target to your back.

It didn’t make you scared or paranoid, but it sure made you even more courageous to push back those who tried to bring you down. You knew you had it in you.

You had lost the track of time, when a small explosion pulled you from your thoughts. People were screaming and running all over the place, but nobody saw anything or anyone. The heavy safety doors sealed all the exits and people were starting to panic more and more. Suddenly all the lights went out, except for one. The light shined above the staircase to the second floor, and under it was a tall man in a green suit. The Riddler.

You tried to find a way out of the room, but the darkness around you made it impossible.

’’Fear not, dear citizens of Gotham!’’ Riddler announced extravagantly. ’’I’d like to play a game.’’

Some of the people screamed, causing even more fear in the others. ’’SILENCE!’’ Riddler shouted, clearly agitated that his speech was disturbed. His deep voice quickly filled the whole space. ’’If any of you try to run, I’ll press this trigger, that will let out a toxic smoke. If you get all three questions right, I’ll let you live.’’He explained, showcasing the trigger inside his jacket. You stayed as low as you could, trying to slowly make your way closer to him. You weren’t the strongest, but you thought you could distract him long enough for the police to arrive.

’’None of you shall be harmed, but only if you answer correctly to these three simple questions.’’ He was smiling like a maniac, walking down the stairs step by step, holding a gun in his hand. If you only could get that gun. ’’Let’s begin!’’ He shouted, the people below him shaking from the pressure. ’’I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?’’

There was a short silence, before people started whispering to each other, trying to come up with the correct answer. You were quick with your thinking, but you didn’t want him to notice you were getting closer to him. ’’An echo.’’ You whispered to a person next to you and kept walking.

’’An echo!’’ The person shouted, lowering his head afterwards to avoid being seen properly.

’’Excellent!’’ Riddler exclaimed joyously. ’’You see a boat filled with people. It has not sunk, but when you look again, you don’t see a single person on the boat. Why?’’

Whispering began once again, accompanied with a few desperate cries. This one was harder, but you came up with the answer in time, once again whispering it to the person nearest to you. ’’They’re all married!’’ They answered.

’’Correct once again. Maybe I chose the wrong bank.’’ His smile wasn’t faltering, he was so sure of himself, so confident.

You were almost at the base of the stairs, ready to jump for his gun any point now. You knew he had the higher ground, but you had to take the chance.

’’I have keys, but no locks and space, and no rooms. You can enter, but you-.’’ He started, but was interrupted by your sudden attack. You jumped out of the crowd aiming for his gun, but unfortunately for you, he had seen it coming miles away. He was surprisingly quick with his moves, ceasing you by the arm before you could even lay your hands on him. Now that you were forced to face him, you noticed how dark and dangerous his features were. The black bowler hat casted a sinister shadow on his face, making the already dark brown eyes seem even darker. The strong glasses framed his face perfectly, highlighting the strong jaw and high cheekbones. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were taken aback by how good he looked. And he was so intelligent, he saw right through you.

’’Like what you see?’’ He teased, a cocky grin playing on his lips. You could feel a blush rising to your cheeks, but thanks to the poor lightning, it wasn’t too obvious.

’’A little firecracker I see, daring to interrupt me in the middle of the last riddle, tsk tsk.’’

He was menacing, but you weren’t scared yet. You knew he loved his riddles, and he wanted to know if this poor audience could get away from him.

’’Now if you please, let’s rise our bets a little, shall we.’’

He made you stand perfectly still on one of the steps and aimed the gun at your head. It made few people shriek, but you tried to motion them to be calm with your hands. The Riddler watched you silently communicating with them and let out a quick laughter. ’’Now would you look at that, what a heroine we have in our midst.’’ He said moving to stand behind you, and you swore you could feel his eyes on you.

’’I’ll ask this one final riddle, and if you get it right, you’ll all get to go home.’’ He continued. ’’But, if you get it wrong.. Bang.’’ He pretended to shoot you in the back of the head. ’’She goes first.’’

People were crying and getting more panicked, but you remained calm.

’’Only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain, doing no harm and feeling no pain. What am I?’’ He almost whispered, him being so close to your ear send goosebumps down your arms. You concentrated, forcing yourself to think of an answer.

’’Is this too hard for our savior?’’ The Riddler teased, moving to speak to the other side of your head. ’’Time’s running out, and I’m right here, shadowing you.’’

That’s it.

’’A shadow.’’ You said almost too quickly.

You could feel the grin he had on his lips. ’’Well done, but unfortunately I can’t leave with empty hands.’’

You didn’t have time to comprehend his words before you were muffled with a cloth that smelled like, chloroform.

* * * * * * *

When you woke up, you felt like you were hit by a truck. The room was small and dimly lit, and you sure as hell didn’t recognize it. You panicked a little and tried to sprung up from the bed, only to realize that you were tied down, only one hand free.

’’Easy there, we don’t want you breaking anything.’’ A familiar, though more soft, voice said from somewhere in the room. Your eyes darted around, trying to find the source. A tall figure stood next to a kitchen counter, pouring two cups of coffee. He was wearing an ordinary flannel, and didn’t seem threatening at all. You had your guesses, which were proven right as he turned around. For some reason, you didn’t feel scared anymore.

’’Coffee?’’ He asked, setting the cup on the night stand next to the bed. You followed his every move with your eyes as he sat down to the end of the bed, carefully sipping his own coffee. Neither of you said a word for a while.

’’You told me the answer.’’ You said first. Riddler lifted his brown eyes to yours, smiling genuinely this time. ’’That I did.’’

’’Why?’’

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head a little.

’’You were telling the right answers to the others, trying to distract me from following you in the crowd. I wanted you to survive. You’re, different.’’ He explained, stirring his coffee with a spoon. The smell was delicious, and it was harder to protest the growing need for the coffee.

’’It’s my own blend, a little chocolatey and not too dark.’’ He said suddenly, reading you like an open book. You could feel yourself blushing again as you carefully reached for the cup. The aroma was heavenly, and so was the taste. In a different situation, you would have loved to spend time with a guy like him. ’’It tastes amazing.’’ You whispered, hesitant to compliment him. He smiled in return before standing up slowly, careful not to frighten you. He pulled out a key from his pocket and freed your other hand. Your eyes were looking for an answer, even if your mouth didn’t ask.

’’You trusted me enough to drink the coffee, I’ll trust you enough to let you go.’’

Almost immediately you jumped out of the bed, but the effects of the chloroform were still pretty heavy on you, causing you to almost fall to the floor. You weren’t sure if you were lucky or not, but you were caught by the arms of your capturer. He held you so gently, it really felt like he didn’t want to harm you at all. You stared up at his brown eyes, trying to find a reason why you felt this way. Why were you so okay with being in his arms, this close to him. You could smell his cologne, and you liked it. You knew it was wrong, so why did it feel so right.

He helped you back to the bed, where you took the coffee cup to your hands again. It was still warm. ’’Why are you being like this?’’ You asked carefully. He sat down next to you, now closer than before, but you didn’t move away.

’’I don’t really know, having you here brings out parts in me that I thought I had lost.’’ He answered quietly, showing a more vulnerable side of him. You turned to look at him and for a moment you could see a totally different person looking back at you.

’’But I do understand if you want to leave.’’ He continued, turning to look down at his cup.

’’I think I’ll stay, for a while at least.’’

You were totally out of your comfort zone, but you weren’t afraid of it. Maybe all those fights and struggles were preparing you for this moment. This moment you shared with one of the most dangerous man in Gotham. And you were okay with it. He wasn’t dangerous, not to you anymore.

#edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #edward nygma x you #edward nygma x y/n #The Riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x y/n #the riddler x you #Cory Michael Smith #gotham series #Gotham #gotham fanfic #gotham imagine

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gildedmuse · 4 years ago

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I'm a little late on getting this second part up, but it's not like tv shows have schedules or time frames or anything so it's fine.

Sora: Warrior Of The Sea

(A RedHawk Production)

BTS Blue Ray Extra: Costumes, Hair & Make Up (Part Two: Sora & Allies)

Boa's, Zoro's and X. Drake's (cast as Brími) as well as Ace's non raid suit are all pretty easy deals, since they're all upper ranking marine uniforms. Fortunately, officers are given a little more freedom with their uniforms, allowing Bon Clay to added some of the characters' personalities to their appearences.

So of course Boa Hancock brings in a team of her own fashion consultant to design Vice Admiral Reijin Umiko uniform form scratch. She couldn't bare to spend a whole who knows how many seasons in something forgettable and drab. And since Production Policy is "just try not to piss off Hancock" she ends up with the uniform she wants. Which is mostly just a marine cape, no sleeves, and a variety of designer outfits.

X. Drake's character, Himiya Brími , is a retire Rear Admiral, though he still stays in touch with his naval contacts, and acts almost as an outside consultant. So the costuming department decides to go with something navy like but without the officer coat. They go with a short white jacket with red fur accents that looks like Brimi might have worn it as a uniform at one point only the marine insignias are all gone. He wears black, leather like pants and gloves that go up to his nearly his wrist despite most of that being under the coat to cover the burn marks up and down his arm. The jacket is typically left unbuttoned, showing off the tattoo of his former division - the Fire Lizards.

Portgas D. Ace looks handsome as hell in full navy dress, identical to what Captain Akitsuyo Sora. is seen wearing in the comics, and also hates everything about it. Why are the pants so tight? He runs hot already there's no way he can deal with three (three!) Shirts. He wants to throw it in a dumpster and burn the whole thing.

Eventually they agree that he can go shirtless, but he has to wear the full proper captain's coat, not just hang it over his shoulders like most do. They get him some slightly more comfortable white trousers and let him wear black boots beneath them. Bon Clay accents the uniform in his characters colors and everyone but even Law eventually comes around and agrees it works.

Of course, Sora's more iconic look is his stolen Germa 66 Raid Suit. The costume department upgrades that design, same as they had the other Raid Suits, mostly by streamlining it, adding the more technological looking boots, adding in some detail to his gloves and.making the helmet a little less goofy (although of course it's still a must as neither Germa not the navy know Sora's identity at the start. At least it doesn't have a seagull on it like in the Saturday morning cartoon). Basically, they just being if closer in line with the other raid suit designs.

Somehow, even with the helmet, Ace looks amazing in that, too.

For Roronoa Zoro's uniform as Lieutenant Tadahiro Daichi, Bon Clay stats him off in just the basic lieutenant uniform, assuming Zoro will likewise have tons of notes. (It's a bit concerning he brought his swords with him). Surprisingly, he has no comments. He doesn't even bother looking in a mirror, instead making sure he can still move enough in sword fight, which he totally can. So he's fine with it.

Law thinks it might be an actual miracle.

Until Bon Clay speaks up. He really hadn't been expecting no comments and he refuses to accept it. You can't put him next to the main character wearing a genetic uniform. He pretty much demands Zoro strips on the spot so he can fix this travesty. Law is quick to leave before the headache starts.

When he comes back, Zoro's has a much baggier coat that goes just bellow his waist And is inexplicably light green. He has the sleeves, which would swallow him otherwise, rolled up high. Its technically on, except it's big enough that it keeps falling off his shoulders. By all rights it should fall open and off except just under the waist there's a belt has been added for his swords, making the V shaped opening look like a very short kimono.

To counter the lose fit of the coat his pants - dark green cause why not - seem impossibly tight. Laws surprised they got him in those without a fight. The only part of the once white uniform to remain the same color is a white sleeveless button down vest that, again, is way too tight for Law's liking and also somehow looks worse than if he were just shirtless. There's no way he can fight in that thing, he can probably barely /breath/.

Law keeps waiting for Zoro to start making comments but again, he has nothing to say. He does his little practice moves, slides the sword back around his waist and finally smiles.

"I like the belt, this is way more practical," he tells Bon Clay. Law wonders if he knows what the word practical means. Pants that cling to every curve of muscle and a vest with buttons clearly meant to be ripped off is not suddenly made practical just because there's an easy place to hang a sword. Also, he's suppose to be a high ranked marine but they can't buy him coat that fits instead of one that keeps slipping off his shoulders?

So of course everyone but Law thinks it's perfect (even though as far as he can tell Zoro never once actually looks in mirror. It seems the ability to still do his own sword fights really was his only requirement.)

Law can't explain it, just like he can't really explain why he dislikes Zoro so immensely, but he hates that costume.

Because of course this is before they even strat shooting, meaning Law would still be pissy at Zoro by this point, and suddenly he finds himself pissed off and turned on all at once.

Law is going to look back at this in a year and hate himself when it finally clicks. He just left Zoro, shirt already falling off, with Ace - who the whole crew agrees looks incredibly sexy in the uniform and that was before he lost the shirt - and not only is Ace not irrationally upset at Zoro, he's all too happy to help out the newbie actor even if it's just something like reassuring him how he looks amazing in costume and hey if Zoro has any questions or something he can always come to Ace. His door is always open to Zoro.

@devilfruitsaladfordinner

Law hates Ace in part because Ace is just so open about flirting and he does it so easily and he's so sexy when he does it and fuck, nope, not going there. Not going to that weird place where the thought of Ace and Zoro together makes him want to scream but it also conjures images of them together infront of him on a bed at his mercy and THAT IS NOT WHERE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO GO WITH THIS

BEPO I NEED A DISTRACTION

.....

Yeah basically.

Peng got his WHAT stuck WHERE?

@gildedmuse

He's angry and he's jealous but he's also about three seconds away from pushing Zoro up against Ace because Law can't help but find the idea of Zoro begging for two men so incredibly sexy it literally breaks his brain. Oh, he's still jealous as fuck, but that doesn't stop him wanting to rip that damn uniform right of the stuntman and see how far him and Portgas-ya could push him until he breaks.

@devilfruitsaladfordinner

Ace is confused but not upset

#sora warrior of the sea #a redhawk production #conversations with internet people #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece au #costumes #roronoa zoro #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law #boa hancock #x drake #bon clay #the zolaw au nobody asked for

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sanders-sides-rebloger · 4 years ago

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Cabin in the Woods

Tis the season to be frightening! Fa la la la la, la la la la!

Here’s a fanfic for your liking! La la la la la, la la la la!

A/N: As it is the spooky season I’ve decided make a Vampire Virgil fic. Because we deserve it and he’s amazing.

Thank you so much @ironwoman359 for beta editing for me! This could've turned out so much worst without your help XD

Word Count: 3,252

Summary: Roman stays in a fairly big Cabin in the woods for vacation that was owned by his Aunt Patty. He's aloud to stay as long as he wants. She figured he needed it after being in a slump from being rejected by one of the most awarding movie studios.

Not only that’s, It’s isolated with nothing but trees and woods surrounding the building and a narrow dirt path that’s an hour away from civilization. What could possibly go wrong?

Tw: drug mention, slight swearing (If there's anything i should add feel free to let me know!)

Roman stays in a fairly big Cabin in the woods for vacation that was owned by his Aunt Patty. He's aloud to stay as long as he wants. She figured he needed it after being in a slump from being rejected by one of the most awarding movie studios.

It’s even isolated with nothing but trees and woods surrounding the building and a narrow dirt path that’s an hour away from civilization.

There’s already plenty of food and water prepared for him already but it’s annoying at times to have to get groceries where the nearest store is an hour and half away but he got used to it. An experience like this is a challenge on Romans part.

Living somewhere that’s completely out of his comfort zone is new and exciting. The place even miraculously has internet and cable so that's a plus for him.

One day he decided to go out for a walk at sunset, enjoying the quietness of nature. The sun seemed to almost set.

Its been about fifteen minutes of walking when Roman hears hushed voices and the sounds of other men talking. He grew confused, close to no one should be around here. The area was secluded.

It turned out to be a drug trade going on, and Romans just stupidly walked in the middle of it.

Every inch of his body filled with regret. He should’ve known what he was getting himself into.

They see him and immediately jumped him. Roman was able to put up a good fight for a while until more of them showed up. For a hopeful second he was able to run away. He fled to the direction of his car so that none of them could know where he lives and try to get the hell away from them as soon as possible.

It was short lived as one guy grabbed him by the back collar of his letterman jacket and pulled him back. He threatens him and tells Roman other nonsense he could care less about.

The tears were pouring down before he realizes it. Tired, beaten, and defeated he could only struggle against the attackers arm around Romans neck and shoulders and beg for mercy.

As soon as he believes this could be the end, the thug’s grip was surprisingly pulled away and he was violently dragged far away from Roman. His screams of bloody murder echo behind him the further away he was.

The prince like man stumbles forward and turns around in fright mixed with confusion, and his eyes widen in terror, the thug disappeared as soon as it happened like no one was ever there. Romans eyes widen.

Who in the hell just did that? There’s no way the bandit possibly fled on his own. Someone else has to be here. Romans eyes quickly land on the three suspicious men, from before, coming into view.

They look at Roman like he was crazy, believing he was the one who possibly killed their friend. The three looked like they were about to attack him when suddenly something came flying into view. A blur of a human shape came knocking the attackers out within seconds, as if he was flying.

Roman stood frozen. Paralyzed with confusion.

Soon he realizes how odd the newcomers clothing is. It was hard to see but his clothing looked like it could’ve been from the Victorian era and his skin is completely pale white. It was all Roman could see since the man was moving too fast, he had the hood of his cape covering his eyes.

Before he realizes what’s happening, he feels something cotton grab his wrist that quickly takes Romans hand and drags them far away to the safety of his Cabin.

Romans mind is reeling at this point. He sighed to himself in relief.

Then it got worse, his heart dropped at the sight of what looked like long sharp fangs curving out of this guy's head. It made Roman want to run inside, lock his doors and windows, and get as far away from this thing as possible.

He was only able to incoherently mumble questions and frightened gasps. With its fangs still out and hissed towards Roman whenever he struggled against his grip. The stranger then grasps Roman and whispers in his ear in a low growl.

“I don’t know who you are, but the only reason I saved your sorry ass was so I didn’t have to deal with a dead body in my territory. Tell anyone about this, my fangs will be digging so deep in your neck, you’ll be completely deflated.”

It made goose bumps grow all over Romans neck. His heart felt like it was beating out of his ribcage. What made this action ten times worse was how the hooded man's voice had a deep dark echo to it.

And with that, the stranger shoved the man in front of him to the ground and disappeared into the night. Roman laid there for several minutes trying to control his breathing as his growing fear in his mind replayed everything that happened in one night.

He went away back to his apartment for a while. The poor guy couldn’t sleep properly for days and left immediately after. He told no one of his experience, he knew they would think he’s crazy for believing in something that sounded so made up.

The Princely character had time to think about his situation over and over. He wasn’t sure whether it was the fight he had been in or the meeting with the pale stranger that terrified him the most. A shiver went down Romans spine from just thinking of him.

He remembers the way the man's breath grazed his earlobe as he talked in that chilling low tone of his. His grip on the man's arms below his shoulders felt overwhelmingly too tight for a normal person.

The creature wasn’t exactly hiding who he was either. Even the very act of saving Roman in the first place to later on threaten him afterwards was beyond him. He could’ve just left him to die by those thugs, and it wouldn’t have been the man's problem either. He could’ve just carried on with his life without Roman in it.

But he didn’t. Instead he knocked every single one there was and dragged them away in the blink of an eye. Roman hoped the creature at least had some morals to not want to mess with him again.

A good few weeks went by for Roman to gain some courage to go back and retrieve his essentials. He was currently finishing with the last of carrying his boxes to the trunk of his car with no issue until he heard a very loud sudden cry.

It was a deep cry, like someone was in pain. It happened only for a second before Roman did his best to brush it off.

He soon heard it again, but this time it was much louder and echoed effectively through the trees around him. From what Roman had heard so far, it didn’t sound familiar and he started to genuinely worry. Someone could be out there who could be hurt or worse. It wouldn’t be noble at all to walk away from any injured human being.

He wasn’t stupid of course, he remembered his last incident in these woods. He brought his samurai sword out with him that he kept inside the cabin as decoration and wished himself luck. He had a lot of spare time on his hands when he was younger.

Little Roman practically begged his Uncle to teach him, saying he wanted to fight like a real prince. His Uncle eventually agreed and helped train him on how to attack with a sword, little by little until the young man today was an expert.

The deeper into the woods Roman was, the more he heard pants and groans of desperation. He was walking for a good five minutes until he finally reached the mysterious injured being.

Roman became stunned in place to see the unworldly stranger from before, back against a thick oak tree, breathing heavily and barely moving. Only the deep rise and fall of his chest indicating any signs of life. He could recognize that clothing anywhere, his most recognizable clothing being his deep purple gloves and darkly stitched black and silk red embedded hood. Yeah, it was definitely him.

He lowered his sword but still held it tightly in his hands. Roman slowly went in front of the stranger and knelt down on one knee, putting distance between them, and examined him more closely. His eyes were closed and he looked to be unconscious. His mouth was slightly agape, showing his impressively sharp fangs.

Oddly enough Roman can’t deny that the man is surprisingly attractive looking from physical appearance alone. His pale skin brought out the dark circles around his eyes as well as his red lips.

A sudden chill went down the back of his neck at the thought of the color being as red as blood. Roman didn’t know and chose to keep it that way.

Without touching him, Roman inspected what he could and found no injuries on the man. There’s no one else in sight except them, so that loud groan had to have been from the now silent man in front of him.

Thinking about it now, he doesn’t know why he’s still here after what this person did! He’s the same one who bared his teeth at him and threatened Roman with his life. The stranger even somehow knows where he lives and could easily kill him if he wanted to. Could he have been stalking him as his prey for the two weeks Roman’s been here?

Romans grip tightened on the handle of his sword he forgot he was holding. His eyes traveled towards the blade.

He could kill this thing. He could do so with no witnesses. The hooded figure isn’t even human, who knows what he’s capable of. It would be so easy...

Roman stood weakly and lifted the end of his sword above his knees and pointed it to the creature's neck.

However this was also the same person who saved him from those dealers. Someone who entered the picture right when Roman needed help most. There was no way this person couldn’t have seen what was happening except from watching afar.

And right now, the closer he inspected the faded purple haired figure he could see how torn he looked. He was currently immobile, his cries were loud just a moment ago and...he looked much skinnier than he previously did? Romans eyes could be tricking him, since there’s excess clothing covering the creature from head to toe, so he couldn’t tell.

Even though the thought of more of them being out there terrified him to death, throughout the miles and miles of woods beyond Romans cabin, who knows, he could have a family somewhere out there.

And Roman was just going to kill him with the only excuse being his fear, even though it’s completely reasonable fear right? And when was the last time Romans seen his own family?

Nevertheless, no matter what circumstances there were, he is grateful for what it did. He wouldn’t be standing here today without the creature's help.

Roman tossed the sword aside and ran his fingers through his hair nervously. He slumped his body to the ground, feeling stupid for not doing the only rational thing a person should do. He doesn’t want to hurt it though. Not after seeing more closely how it pathetically slumped against the tree trunk like dead weight.

The being didn’t even touch him, well- harass him in any way.

The only time he’d touched him was after he dragged Roman straight to his cabin. Also being what he is, he couldn’t have seen another human in years, so it sort of makes sense as to why the stranger threatened him the way he did. It still begs the question to why he helped Roman in the first place.

Instead, he sits on his knees and hesitantly shakes the others shoulder gently to wake him. He doesn’t move, but he’s now taking shallow breaths in contrast to his previous heavy breathing.

Roman moves his hand to the strangers chest. Are creatures like this even alive? The one in front of him surely doesn’t look like it. Not only is he as pale as a corpse, but he’s ice cold to the touch. To confirm himself that if the figure was indeed alive, Roman moves his hand to its wrist, neck or anywhere to indicate any sort of pulse.

From what the man could tell he was beginning to lose hope. Nothing about the scene in front of him was indicating any source of life.

Roman slowly drew his hand back, going over his options for what to do in a situation like this. Roman moves his hand to the strangers skin at his bare neck for good measure.

However he was pulled from his thoughts when Roman yelped loudly in terror at two hands tightly grabbing his shoulders and pinned him, sitting, against the thick tree trunk with the stranger on top of his lap. The weight on him felt like a ton of bricks.

Romans wrists were tightly grasped together over his head with one of the stranger's hands. He winced loudly in pain. The strong grip around his wrists squeezed, barely not cutting off circulation. The other arm pushed horizontally across Romans chest, trapping him even more.

He's almost nose to nose with the stranger in front of him, he stares straight into the eyes of the one who put him in his now captive state, frozen in place.

Roman could widely see the creatures distinct facial features. How it formed a wicked smirk, with its claw-like fangs poking out of its mouth, how the pools of brown looked into Roman with dark unknown intentions.

Roman could feel his heart drop to his stomach at that moment, eyes tightly shut and body trembling as his mind conjured different scenarios of his ultimate demise.

It all made sense now. How the creature defeated the dealers to stop them from getting to Roman. The way he knew the exact route to get to his cabin. He knew where Roman would be in due time and just waited for the right moment to strike in his vulnerable state.

Romans mind drew a blank, and he could barely function at that moment.

He kicked, screamed, and pushed away with all his might but nobody came. The stranger's incredible power which held him down did nothing for him. It only leaned back only a little and watched with a calm expression of pity on the prey's pathetic attempt of escape.

Roman panted heavily, out of breath and worn out. He needs to kill this thing. He should’ve done so when he had the chance.

That's when Romans eyes slowly drifted to his sharp sword in front of him, glinting in the moonlight. He longed for it to magically appear in his hand to help him attack this creature.

His breath hitched as the figure moved forward and toward Romans ear.

“I wouldn’t think about it if I were you~” The creature warned. He said lowly, sniffing Romans neck a little and smiling brightly.

Roman turns his head away the best he can as he whimpers, feeling vulnerable it's touch. He felt completely and utterly violated.

Soon though, Romans face pales and his dread grew when he saw those familiar sharp fangs at the corner of his eye and they were pointed right at his neck.

“Tell anyone about this, my fangs will dig so deep in your neck, you’ll be completely deflated.”

Roman could feel his tears pricking in his eyes, on the verge of streaming down his cheeks. He’s going to die here. He’s never going to live to meet his dreams of becoming a professional actor. He’s never gonna see any of his friends again.

The creature wanted him all to itself, and he was gonna be eaten alive. Roman hoped it would be a fast death at least.

“Please...” Roman whimpers again, his voice quivering as he pushed the back of his head against the tree in an attempt to further himself from the creature. Which only caused him a strong stinging pain in his head against the bark. He prepared himself for the sharp pang to dig painfully deep into his neck.

...

Except, nothing happened.

After what felt like forever, nothing was done to Romans body. He was still pinned against the bark like a prisoner, but no actual damage was done to him. He was confused and afraid to open his eyes, yet he was wondering what the hold up was after the creature stated exactly what he wanted to do to him.

Roman opens his eyes painfully slow. He regains his vision and he could see how the pale man perked up and leaned further away from him. In a flow of emotions its face went from confused to shocked to sympathetic in mere seconds. Roman didn’t understand.

That’s when the figure throws the pinned man aside to the dirt and backs away with almost a tremble in his step. He looks down at his hands with wide eyes, pondering his actions.

He stands up with distance between himself and his victim, running a gloved hand through his hair.

“Did I just...“ The man mumbles to himself.

He grew silent, looking to be in deep thought. He continued to speak softly to himself but it was incoherent from where Roman sat. The silent ring of crickets can be heard with the rustling of the trees.

Roman can see the man from his side view, standing there. It was like he completely forgot that he was there in the first place. Right now, Roman had no idea what to do.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s still pretty damn terrified. But just now, he thinks, the man looked so... scared. Like he didn’t know what he was doing.

Should he say something? Do something to break the ice?

That’s when the man finally noticed Romans presence. His gaze slowly drifts to the man's tense filled body on the ground, looking up at him with a wide stare. His eyes once looked so menacingly. A type of stare that would make anyone regret they were born. Now though the man looks at him with lidded eyes, a light in them that’s shown full of regret. It was astounding. Roman didn’t know what to think.

Roman gets up on his own. He decided it’d be better to say something rather than nothing at all.

“I don’t know what’s going on, what or who you are, but I need an explanation for what happened just now.“ He continued to ramble on about everything else, wanting an explanation, pacing as he spoke.

Roman didn’t notice but the pale man rubs the bridge of his nose in a somewhat annoyed manner. He couldn’t blame him though.

Roman turns again, this time facing him this time.

The man being interrogated slowly walks towards Roman. He sees this and his words slowly die out in this throat, staring at him questionably.

His breath was quite literally stolen from him when the man places a gloved hand over Romans mouth, effectively shutting him up.

“Listen, I know you don’t exactly trust me right now. But my name is Virgil, and I need your help.”

#sanders sides #vampire virgil #fanfiction #reblogger posts #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #slowburn prinxiety #roman x virgil #Cabin in the Woods #slight angst #ts roman #ts virgil #i may continue this #I may not #depends on how much time and willpower I have lol

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